for english. we had a short story assignment and it was the week after CR died and i wrote a story about a skier that dies. sad shit. My mom actually cried over it.
well anyway. my teacher reads it and loves it. now a fucking author wants to publish it.
so yeah since its about skiing i figured id get the NSers opiions so here it is tell me what you think.
Everything is gone. I knew I was dead, but it wasn’t like that drifting off feeling that you see in movies or books or whatever but I had just gone to a different place. Almost like one of those transporter machines that you see in space movies. I however had transported into just blank space, a sheet of white as far as the eye could see and it was unmoving. I can smell absolutely nothing, and there are no itches, no breeze on my arms, no pain.
I hate it.
I just stand there and there is nothing I can do. What would happen if I take a step? Is there gravity? Would I shoot straight forward with nothing to stop me like one of those laws of physics I should have learned in my freshman year? Could I even move? It occurs to me that I don’t even know if I have use of my arms or legs. I’m expecting it to be a great struggle but my first step into nothing was easier then walking in grass. I look down and to my surprise I have created a patch of grass. It grows at an unnatural speed until it is about 4 inches tall. My brain kicks into action and I think about walking in snow instead of grass and take another step.
And then there was snow. I couldn’t help myself. Laughing like a little boy on Christmas I run around with my mind erupting with different thoughts, items, feelings and whatever flowing. After a couple of minutes I turn back to look at my handiwork. An oasis with palm trees and snow-shooting geyser are off in the distance while closer to me is a small beach and a Kid Valley burger joint.
All of the happy thoughts from my mind whisk away and I whip around. Sitting there is an old man. He couldn’t have been more then 5’ 2” and weighed probably 90 lbs, but his voice was deep and silky and his presence calmed me, making me want to curl up into a ball and allow him to protect me for the rest of my life.
He smiles and says, “I’m sorry, but my job requires me to ask you a couple of questions.”
This is the last thing I expect him to say and I decide to say something intelligent and deep. I say, “You have a job?”
I want to kick myself.
The man smiles and says, “Yes. I own my own company.”
“Wow,” I reply. “So I get the honor of talking to the CEO of a company?”
“Exactly!” he smiles. “And I’m also the janitor and the mailroom clerk and the vice president and everything else!”
Now I am confused, but he continues to smile and then says, “So how about those questions?”
I sit down on the ground while the elder man conjures a magnificent and puffy chair for himself.
“So,” He says, “You obviously must have realized that you’re dead by now. Can you recall how you died?”
“I died in-”
“Oh no no no. You don’t need to tell me, just remember it. Access your mind.”
So I think back. I remember I was driving on the highway at night. I was alone and tired but I had not been drinking or smoking or any of that bad boy stuff. In fact, I was coming back from a late night skiing adventure with Derrick and Alan. Then there were bright headlights, the airbag deploying and the sound of steel crunching in on itself screeching tires and then silence.
I look up at him and he smiles and says, “Well I won’t quiz you more on how you died, that was just grand.”
I was very thankful for that. It was starting to make my head spin.
“So on to question #2 then,” he says. “Who would you like to see most right now?”
The first thing that pops into my mind is my girlfriend Sarah, but after thinking for a bit I realized that I’d like to see the crew. What the school calls the five inseparable kids that do absolutely everything together. Me, Travis, Derrick, Alan and Nick practically lived together. Our parents all never really cared about us, all of us loved to ski and we all were the same age. At the moment we all are seniors in high school. Well, I was a senior in high school. It suddenly struck me that the crew was going to be incomplete. What would they do without me? I felt terrible for not thinking about it until now.
The old man’s smile disappears and for the first time he looks very, very sad. After several silent moments he speaks.
“Would you like to see them?”
I nod. He closes his eyes.
“Then my work here is done.”
And then I am back. I am with them, next to them, yet they cannot see me. They are skiing, but it’s not the usual happy skiing that we always have. They are stony silent. I notice that they have all unbuckled and have hiked over the ridge to our secret powder valley, the spot that only we know about. Alan has my skis tucked under his arm. They go over the ridge and put my skis in the snow sticking up like an x. derrick puts a sign on the skis that reads, R.I.P CR. they sit down in the snow, wordless and stare at the skis. After what seems like an hour they one by one start to leave. Travis leaves last, kissing the skis before he goes.
So it’s just me. I look at the mountainside. I look at the trees. I look at the tracks from the boots of my very best friends, knowing that I will never see them again. I look at the sign and think that I don’t want to rest in peace. Resting isn’t my style. I pick up my skis and set off on what is to be an eternal powder run. I shred in peace. And you know what? Somehow I know that the crew will always be enjoying the run with me.
In Memory of CR Johnson
May he always shred in peace