Rising Abruptly Read Online Free PDF Page A

I mean. I looked at my belly in disbelief the day I strained to buckle up my harness over you. The thing growing inside me that took control. I could no longer self-arrest. An internal rope tied us together, a rope that you would cut only at the time of impact. You birthed yourself, a puzzle that had nothing to do with me. Sam, on this clear, clear morning, you, so intimately tied to me, seem all of a sudden too far to reach. I’m thirsty. At an incredible distance from my head, I glimpse my feet shod in scuffed boots.
    Boots! So that’s what made me peel off. I think back to last night, switching from rock shoes to hiking boots for warmth and comfort. And this morning, forgot to switch back again. Holy scree! How distracted am I?
    I can only laugh. The nurses assumed it was maternal happiness that made me giggly. It wasn’t that. It was thinking I had just given birth to twin cracked-leather boots. Staring at my feet through tears of mirth, failing to understand how I could have been allowed to deliver a child, in a hospital, with my boots on, I formed the notion that I had, at last, expelled my congenital fear.
    Not so. It had never left me. This morning acknowledging my distraction, it’s all too clear. Forever, I’ll climb, fall and climb again, pushing before me the rock of my dread. If there is one consolation, it is that, in the delivery room, I didn’t pass that damn emotion on to my daughter. My only wish now is for her to stop trying so hard to experience it. Staring at the sky, I imagine Sam up on the ridge above, egging me on, both of us clinging to our jagged little peak, and, despite the sharp pain across my ribs forcing me to shallow my breathing, I can’t stop laughing. Here I come, love. Here I come.
    I swallow dryness, my tears distorting Sam’s face and the light.

Benighted on Mighty Mount Royal
    AS IF RACHEL WANTED to go tobogganing. The cold, the snow. Her father died in the cold in the snow. In those distant mountains. The wool sweaters that make you itchy. The tuque that makes you look ugly. The mitts that make you clumsy. His tuque and mitts and itchy sweaters did not keep him from turning into a snowman. The slushy streets, the boots always damp. Damp. As if Rachel wanted to go tobogganing.
    But the game, Rachel! We must play the game.
    Yes, Jeanne. The game.
    Rachel understands that she and her cousin must play the sacred game. And this afternoon, Jeanne wants to go tobogganing, so that they can play the game. And when Jeanne wants something…
    Don’t worry so much, Rach. On Mount Royal, the snow will be friendly. Nothing like the snow on those giant mountains. So very far away. Jeanne also reminds her cousin that, once back home, Rachel always says she loved the game. The aftermath , the power.
    The aftermath. A word Rachel’s mom had taught the cousins. Sounds like after the math. Homework done, problem solved. The reward, out of the cold, safe from the snow, Rachel slurping a hot chocolate, her feet toasty in her slippers. Rachel dissecting the game. One thing she loves above all else is dissecting. In the coziness of aftermath, she keeps adding to the game events of epic proportion. So as usual, she yields to Jeanne’s persuasion.
    When they reach the foot of Mount Royal, the December afternoon is already drawing to a close, the temperature dropping quickly, and forecasting a frigid night. In the fading light of day, Jeanne notices dark clouds forming over the mountain.
    Her mouth hidden behind her wool scarf, she curses her cousin and her crazy ideas: Let’s go home, Jeanne. Before my toes turn into hard candies.
    Come on, Rach, don’t be a crybaby. We’re eleven. Not two. Make yourself tough. You’ll see. When we start sliding, we’ll warm up and you’ll love it. Let’s run to the bus stop.
    Pulling the toboggan, they run against the wind. The sharp air brings tears to their eyes. Under their feet, the snow cracks like