Page 104 of Unbreakable
“When are we going tubing?” Alice cut in.
“I’m going, I’m going,” Dylan said, shuffling off to the lodge to get our lift tickets.
We arrived just before 10 a.m., finding the park decently full but not overcrowded. We got our tubes, and the kids sat in theirs while we dragged them along, Dylan taking the older two and me handling Bella.
I’d never been snow tubing, and when I saw the hill, I grew a little leery.
“Dyl, that’s . . . really steep. And a lot of bumps,” I said.
“Their website said people rarely get hurt. People don’t fall out,” he said. “And I checked reviews that confirmed that.”
That last part put me at ease. We got in line to ride the lift, where our tube handles clipped onto a rope and were pulled to the top. Bella thought this was a modern miracle, her mouthhanging open. We watched some groups go down the slopes with their handles held together and Alice called back to me, “Mom! I want to do that!”
To make me feel more secure, Dylan rode along with Bella for the first run to make sure she knew not to let go while I raced Alice and Grey.
I didn’t expect it to be that fun. It’s simple, really, just sledding on steroids. But I was exhilarated when I caught air off the first big bump. Plus, Dyl whirled me backward at the start of one of my runs, which for whatever reason had me hysterically laughing.
It was one of those family fun moments you hope the kids will remember forever.
We took a break for lunch, everybody chowing down on simultaneously mediocre and wonderful chicken tenders and fries. I got Dyl’s attention while the kids were eating like a bunch of rabid foxes and made my hands into a heart. He winked and leaned in to kiss me.
“The best ones,” he said. “I’m the luckiest.”
We decided we’d go out for one more hour before calling it a day. Greyson and Dylan were dedicated to figuring out the tricks of the trade: which lanes were the fastest, what positions and techniques made them go farther. Greyson desperately wanted to go down on his stomach, but the guy working the lift yelled at him for trying. Dylan was able to sneak in a run on his stomach, giving a “shush” motion to Grey so he wouldn’t tell. And Dylan’s superman run was uneventful.
I remember exactly where I was standing, and how helpless I was watching it happen. I’d just gotten to the bottom of the slope, Alice and I waddling back to the lift. The lift worker wasn’t looking at Grey, and he made a break for it. He ran at the fastest lane, prepared to go down on his stomach.
He got a little too much of his weight forward and after going off the biggest bump, he flipped forward, landing on his elbow. The tube slid down the rest of the way without him, leaving him halfway up the slope.
I felt the way my baby screamed in my soul.
They say moms can lift a car if their child is trapped under it. I don’t know about that, but I ran up that hill in my bulky winter gear like my ass was on fire.
Greyson was both freakishly loud and disturbingly still. Something was very wrong. He alternated crying and yelling for me.Mommy. He hadn’t called me that in probably a year or more, deeming himself big enough to call me “Mom.”
“Mommy, my arm,” he cried when I got to him, the tears going cold on his face. Dylan arrived next to us maybe a minute later. I already had all fifty-five pounds of my son scooped into my arms and was ready to run.
“I got him,” Dylan rushed out, trying to take him from me. If I were a cat, I’d have hissed at him.
He was the reason Greyson was hurt. He encouraged bad behavior, and now my son was in agony.
“Get the girls and call 911,” I bit out, already starting down the hill. I couldn’t even look at Dylan, I was so mad. “We need to go to the E.R.”
“Mommy, it hurts so bad. I’m scared,” Greyson wailed.
“I know, sweet pea. We’re going to get you some help,” I panted, the adrenaline still carrying me through. I had a stray thought that maybe I should work on getting my strength back up because while the super-strength was convenient in the moment, it’d be nice to have all the time.
I waited by the road with Greyson on my lap. “It’s alright, buddy. We’re going to take a ride in the ambulance. That’ll be something new!”
Dylan and the girls trotted up beside us, sitting on the bench with us while Dylan was on the phone. “I’m here with them now,” he said to the operator. “He’s awake. Just looks like maybe a broken arm.”
“A broken arm?” Greyson went into a further panic. “Mommy, I don’t want a cast. That’ll be so itchy.”
“I’ll sign it!” Alice chimed in.
“Not helpful, Al,” I murmured. Silently, I prayed he didn’t need surgery, and if he did, I didn’t want him getting it at a rural hospital. The bulge under his coat sleeve was enormous, and I was terrified to take his coat off. I didn’t even know if you were supposed to, or to leave it on to contain swelling.
“Hang in there, bud,” Dylan said, kneeling in front of us. “I know this is scary, but you’re being so brave.”
