Rising Abruptly Read Online Free PDF

caramelized sugar. With each breath, their nostrils stick together and the glacial air pinches their lungs. At the bus stop, they stamp their feet, endure the cold knocking on their foreheads. And the bus fails to appear. Jeanne suggests that they play the game of hiking the trail that climbs to the summit. Soon, the paved road that parallels the trail disappears behind fir trees loaded with snow. Between the trees, the cousins glimpse several buses driving back to the city.
    Jeanne climbs the trail with much energy. Rachel follows more slowly, pulling the toboggan tied to its red cord. In the snow between the stems of the naked shrubs, sparrows’ tracks have left exclamation marks.
    Jeanne waits for her cousin: Come on, Rach. My turn to pull the toboggan.
    No, no. I can do this. Walk!
    They resume the hike, watching the city lights below, a scene straight out of a Christmas card. ’Tis the twelfth month, Christmas is very much on their minds.
    When they reach the lake, not quite at the summit, Jeanne looks around: Eh, Rach! See that? The place’s deserted. Where’s everybody?
    That’s right. The snowy slopes have been abandoned. On frozen lac des Castors, not one soul is skating. And, out of the loudspeakers, not one note of a waltz streams into the cold air. The girls don’t understand this anomaly, since in the glittery season, the place crawls with winter-loving people, even on weeknights. The parking lot lies empty and the windows of the lodge are dark.
    Rachel feels all funny inside, disoriented and uneasy. As if a giant hand had dropped her in a strange land.
    Let’s go back down, Jeanne. I’m really, really cold.
    Oh, Rach, this is great! How often do we get to have the entire mountain to ourselves!
    Jeanne’s right. A tiny part of Rachel wants this adventure. But how she wishes it was already over. How she wishes she was back home, dissecting. Still pulling the narrow sled, which seems heavier now, she follows her cousin, leading the way toward the summit.
    Jeanne searches for the deepest powder, the girls sinking in up to their knees. Giggling, Jeanne kneels on the toboggan and remains afloat: Look, Rach! Like a magic carpet!
    Catching the thrill, a little, Rachel also kneels on the magic carpet. Then, the girls stand up, pretending to surf like those boys in the Hawaiian TV show. Only, they lose their balance and fall into the snow as into the sea. Sharks! they shriek. Still in the shelter of the fir trees, they make snow angels before trudging toward a fallen log to catch their breath. They look up. Spot one star. Fancy it is the Star of Bethlehem.
    With one whip of wind, clouds pack into the parcel of sky visible above the trail. The star vanishes. Raving through the trail, the wind throws bullet-hard snow pellets at the girls’ faces. The blast latches on their mouths, stifling breath. To draw air, they must turn their backs to the wind. Around them, the treetops now swing wildly, their trunks creaking.
    Jeanne, this is omin… This is not good!
    To be heard in this hurricane, Jeanne has to shout: You’re right. Let’s go back down.
    Unlike Jeanne that, to agree so quickly. Which should have sounded an alarm. But doesn’t. Instead, Rachel sees herself back home in one hour. Tops. The cold makes her want to pee, but hating public toilets, and hating even more to pee in the open, she will hold the flow. Once home, she will rush into the privacy of the warm bathroom to relieve her bloated bladder. Sighing with pleasure, she will dissect the hike in cold and snow, the challenge, taken up and won.
    The girls walk, heads dunked into coat collars, eyes fixed on their boots, as if the footwear could show them the way. No longer a shelter, the trail has transformed into a wind tunnel filled with a wall of snow. Red dots dance in front of their eyes and they can no longer see the firs that, up to now, guarded their adventure.
    Rachel bumps into a tree hidden in the