The Ice Rink - image 1 - student project

Two girls excitedly get ready in their room to go skating with their father. The eldest one tries to steady a bow in the mane of the youngest one but the youngest immediately fiddles with it. The eldest, Asha, pulls the youngest, Robin, firmly by the hair so that they are forced to look face to face and says, “If your hair isn’t firmly tied during skating, it can lead to accidents.” “But it hurtssss” Robin asserts. Robin pulls away and runs out of the room.

Asha rolls her eyes then pulls on the long socks she’s carefully chosen for today’s occasion. Her last pre-middle school winter skate. Every year the rink is dominated by the older kids. The cool kids. But this year Asha was both. It was her last chance to establish her place in the pecking order before middle school. A chance to start grade 6 on the right foot. A proper social standing is the foundation of a successful life, that’s what her mother always said. Elementary school had been an awkward time. But elementary school wouldn’t have to define Asha’s entire life. This day at the rink as Asha stepped on to the ice she’d cement what she was sure would become the beginning of a life long legacy of notoriety.

“Robbie!!!!” She just had to keep her 6 year old little sister from ruining it. Robin pops her head into the room and with a pout she says, “It hurtssss! I don’t wanna!” She disappears again and cries out “Daddyyyy!” in the distance. Asha returns her attention to steading her own hair bow in the mirror. Her father appears. He has a pervasive energy of “cool, calm, and collected”.

“Uh-oh. What’s going onnnn girls?” he sings. Asha is amused despite herself but she holds her serious demeanor firm as she speaks. “Daddy, PLEASE tell Robin that tied hair is non negotiable for the rink. JUST like it's non negotiable for the beam.”

Her father sighs and sits on the bed across from Asha’s grand stance in the mirror. “C’mere Bibi.” Robin stomps into the room and throws herself face first across the bed next to her father. She screams into the comforter, “NOOOOOOO, I know what you’re gonna say! But she’s not listening to me! No one ever listens to me.” Robin sounds to be near tears.

Her father makes eye contact with Asha in the mirror to maintain camaraderie with his eldest daughter but softens as he says, “Bibi, would you speak with me please?” Robin lets out a sigh but slowly bends her knees so that gravity allows her to slide off of the bed and onto the floor propped up by her legs to face her father. “Yes Baba?” she says with a pout and a great sense of indignation.

“Asha’s worried about you, baby. As your big sister it’s always going to be her mission in life to protect you. Even when you don’t want her to. It’s an extinction of the love your mother and I have for you two. Even when you don’t understand it, it’s important that you trust that I love you, that Asha loves you… and anything that we ask of you is a product of that love. Do you remember when you started gymnastics?”

Robin nods.

Her father looks at his hands before continuing, “You were so excited. And rightfully so, you are so physically gifted in movement. Anything you observe, you can recreate. I’ve never seen anything like it. I mean that. I do. And I’ve been around a long time now…”

“Long time!” Asha echoes as she playfully mocks her father by imitating an elderly voice.

Robin giggles as their father playfully gestures a threat for her to…. Watch (points to his eyes) Your (points to Asha) Back (points to his back). All erupt into laughter.

He continues, “I’ve seen a lot. And you’re gifted. But what does Ms. Bowen tell you whenever you excitedly charge for the beam before properly tying your hair?”

“Bobbi! You’re getting in your own way!” Robin exclaims. “Because?” her father prompts. Asha, now softened, but still aware of the amount of time this explanation is taking, now faces them. Her hair is done, her lips are glossed, and her bag is packed. It’s time to go. But she remains patient.

“Everything has a place and a place in it. When everything is in its place it creates order. And order is the universal law that makes the world go round. A sense of order gives us a sense of personal power. When we… When we…” Robin Stutters and Asha chimes in, “When we embrace order we embrace our personal power to help the world go round and become citizens of the world.” Robin is embarrassed but grateful. She then says, “When my hair is out of order, it limits my natural power of being a beam queen. If my hair is in my face, I can’t see the beam.”

“Exactly!” Her father chimes excitedly. “And if your hair is in your face you can’t clearly see the rink.” He gestures for the hair tie, “C’mere bibi. I’ll tie it for you and you can let me know if it feels too tight.” Robin hands him the hair tie before scooting around so that her back is to her father. Asha is pleased but she is desperately annoyed and ready to go.

Their mother peaks her head into the room with a sense of alarm, “What’s going on? Traffic’s going to be a nightmare. You guys should’ve left 10 minutes ago.” Asha shares an annoyed but knowing look with her mother. Their mother, Anna, sucks her teeth and scoffs, “Oh Robin, not again.” Anna shoots an accusatory look at her husband, suspecting him to be an enabler. She looks back to her youngest daughter. “A ribbon is a silly thing to build a religious stance against,” Anna resigns then walks away to practice restraint from chastising her youngest daughter further.

Robin is unphased with her mother’s disdain. “WHEN!” she calls out signaling that her father has tightened her bow tight enough. “Alright,” he drops his hands into his lap. “Let’s goooo!” He hops up and walks toward the door, “Meetcha in the car.”

Asha picks up her bag as Robin scrambles into her coat. But as Asha passes her sister she turns back. She stands behind Robin and allows herself a moment of indulgent glee before pulling the bunny ears of Robin’s bow to tighten them further. “Ooowwwww! ASHA!!!” Robin screams and chases her elder sister out of the room.

At the rink, Asha surveys the ice. She has pristine awareness of where everyone is, what’s happening, and the physics of her own body. She studies the 6th grade girls across the field. Maya, Neeti, Olivia, and Paige. The illustrious “MNOP” clique. She took a deep breath and began to skate toward them when, “ASHA!” Robin’s voice came blaring into her vision of power. Tugging at her sister, “Asha please, my head hurts, fix my bow!” Annoyed Asha barks, “Not now!” But Robin persists. “You’re literally fine!” Asha’s eyes now trained on Robin as she uses her body weight to pull away. Robin is momentarily distracted by a skater practicing axel jumps. “See! You’re not even crying! You’re just being a baby!” This snaps Robin back, “I’m not a baby! Take it back!” Robin now leans her weight in the opposite direction to keep Asha from advancing across the ice.

“STOP IT! You’re embarrassing me,” Asha yells. She could feel herself losing composure and cool points all at once. She could also feel the eyes of MNOP on her. “GIRLS!” Their father’s voice called out, “What’s going on?” Still locked in a battle of tug of war with Asha’s arm, they both exclaim about the other. “You’re such a brat! You’re doing this on purpose!” Asha yells. “I’m not. It hurts and I can’t fix it myself. You said you’d help! But you never help! How can you help if you don’t listen to me?” cries Robin. Now outraged Asha screams, “YOU! Never listen to ME! But fine! You want to be a loser with loose hair?” Asha yanks Robin’s ribbon from her hair as she continues to skate backwards leaning away from Robbin. Robbin screams and releases her sister. The force propels Robin against the glass. Asha yells “Don’t cry to me when you get hurt” as the force propels her toward the center of the rink. Asha turns to face MNOP and is immediately met with the blade of the axel skater.

Asha drops as if gravity has completely enveloped her. And it has. An eerie quiet swallows the moment whole as a wine color rapidly stains the ice. The silence is broken by the sound of her father’s voice crying out for her and for help. First responders appear immediately but there’s not much to respond to by the time they reach her. In a trance, Robin, follows them as they carry Asha’s unconscious body out of the park. Her father is in tow.

At the hospital, their mother frantically appears. She begs the nurse station for information and staff is required to calm her down. Anna paces. Robin and her father sit quietly as they stare blankly at the floor. “Over a fucking ribbon.” Anna mutters to herself. Robin is silently crying.

Eventually the surgeon appears. There was nothing they could do. She lost too much blood. Asha never regained consciousness. Her heart stopped before they reached the surgical floor and although best efforts to resuscitate were made… it never returned.

Anna crumbles forward crying out in her grief before turning on her husband and daughter. “You insolent little shit! Are you happy now?” “Anna!” her husband barks. “What?! What do you want me to say? You want me to say I’m pleased that the mistake that you wanted killed my pride and joy over a RIBBON?! If she’s old enough to ruin lives over an disorderly demeanor, she’s old enough to be aware of her actions!” looking directly to Robin, “She’s dead. Your sister’s dead because of you.” Robin wished she were dead too. She wished ribbons everywhere were dead. And that the creators of ribbons would die too. Everybody deserved to die if Asha died. The ice and ice rinks. They should die too. MNOP, dead. She couldn’t quite grasp what it meant yet… but if Asha was never coming home from the rink then maybe everyone else should die there too. Why would that happen? Robin asked herself. Why would this happen? How could this happen? Robin traced over the moment in her head with moment to moment precision and she couldn’t see how one action connected to the other. It didn’t make sense. If it didn’t make sense then Asha couldn’t possibly be gone. Asha is not gone. Her mother is overreacting. Asha is not gone. Asha would not die and go away forever because a ribbon was too painful to be worn on her head. That would not happen, so it did not happen. Asha is not gone. Her mother is simply being absurd.

In fact, she could see Asha sitting right there in the waiting room. Asha smiled at her conspiratorially then blew her the raspberry. Robin giggled aloud and as her mother moved to incinerate her, Robin evenly stated, “Asha’s sitting right there. She says you’re overreacting.”

Robin stands before her mother can retort. As she walks toward the exit, her sister stands, takes her hand and they walk down the hall toward the exit together. Their parents watch in awe as Robbin walks away alone without them. If her parents were going to turn their back on Asha just because she was dead then it would have to be Robbin’s mission in life to protect Asha now. They may not understand it, but they’d have to trust in Robin’s love for Asha.

Kady B

Digital Storyteller

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