As the boys walked, they kicked stones and honkey nuts along the footpath. The nuts, when kicked right, spun on their axis and whirled off to one side before collapsing under their own spin. The wind was strong; it throttled the surrounding trees. A puddle on the road dipped and rippled under the weight of the weather.
Five blocks down from where a nut collapsed, rotated once and lay still by the curb; five blocks down, a figure skater spun on the ice at a million revs per second. She became a blur of pink. Cameras flashed in the audience and spray and chips of ice sparkled from around her spinning skate. Suddenly, she lost her balance and broke off into an awkward face plant.
The skating partner, who had released her into the brilliant pirouette, rushed in to help. He lost his balance and collided into her fragile pink frame.
The specialists called it a 'hairline' fracture, and bandaged her leg. She was in crutches for three weeks. The padding on the crutches gave her a rash.
Some time later, the leg fully healed and the rash long gone, Mick, who had kicked the honkey nut on that windy day, lay in bed while the ice skater played piano. He watched her small bare feet work the pedals of the piano and he felt safe and at peace. He felt ready to take things further.
