Read On Pointe for Free Online Page B

the car.
    He gets my boots and socks,
    and I pull them on.
    â€œReady.” I grab the pack from the backseat
    and hand him his walking stick.
    We lock up.
    â€œHere’s the trail.” He starts off
    through the bushes.
    I follow.
    Ferns stretch over the path.
    Sun shafts slice between the firs.
    I breathe in the sweet
    growing, decaying smell.
    The moss is spongy under my feet.
    Grandpa leads the way.
    I follow.
    â€œWow. Look at those roots
    on that fallen tree, Grandpa.
    They must be twelve feet across.”
    â€œLooks like an old cedar.”
    The trail switches back,
    and we walk the length of the downed tree.
    â€œSure the forest is beautiful.
    But don’t you think
    this rotting tree is awesome too?”
    Grandpa says, “Definitely.”
    He puts his arm
    around my shoulder. “Look at all the life
    that can grow on it now.”
    Moss, baby ferns, even a couple little trees
    are springing from its side.
    â€œAmazing,” I whisper.
    I pull back my tights
    and dip my feet in the river.
    â€œAhhhh.”
    Grandpa laughs at me.
    â€œWhat? It feels great!” I say.
    â€œI’m sure.” He gathers up our trash
    and tucks it into the pack.
    The water burbles around my ankles.
    The cold prickles and needles my skin.
    I yank my feet out.
    Mmmmm.
    The rock is warm,
    and my wet footprints
    evaporate in seconds.
    A ladybug creeps onto my hand,
    then flies off.
    The alpine meadow rustles around us.
    â€œHear that?” asks Grandpa.
    â€œThe marmots?”
    â€œWe always called them whistling pigs.”
    I laugh.
    The whistles drift away.
    â€œSo you’re really getting ready
    for ski season, Grandpa?”
    â€œWouldn’t miss it for anything.”
    â€œBut you’ll wear the helmet Mom got you?”
    â€œYes, I will.
    And no backcountry without a buddy.”
    â€œGreat. That sounds a little safer.”
    â€œYou can join me if you want,” he jibes.
    â€œYeah, right.
    You know I hate heights, cold, and speed.”
    â€œThat about describes the entire ski experience.”
    â€œExactly. The only time I like speed
    is when I’m spinning on pointe.”
    â€œFair is fair. You speed across the floor
    on your tiptoes,
    and I’ll shoosh down the slopes.”
    â€œDeal.” I grin.
    He stretches and gets up.
    â€œTime to go, Clare.”
    I pull on my socks and boots.
    We hike down the dimming trail
    side by side.
    â€œWhoa!”
    â€œGrandpa!” I catch his arm.
    He regains his balance.
    Little pebbles
    tumble over the side of the hill.
    He squeezes my hand. “Thanks, love.”
    â€œSure. This switchback is steep.”
    â€œAnd I’m old. I’d actually
    do better on a pair of skis.”
    â€œI bet!”
    He gives me a shaky laugh
    and grips his walking stick
    for the next step.
    I keep close by.
    Grandpa steers the car
    down the dark dirt road.
    I tilt up his old Army canteen.
    Nothing. “I’m so thirsty.”
    â€œI’m sorry I didn’t bring more water.
    I forget how much you drink after class.”
    â€œThat’s okay. Thanks for sharing yours.”
    â€œWe should always bring tablets to purify
    the river water.”
    â€œYeah.” I screw the cap back on.
    We pass a deer crossing sign.
    I suck in some air through my teeth.
    â€œWhat?” asks Grandpa.
    â€œOh, the deer sign makes me nervous
    that one is going to jump out in front of us.”
    â€œI’m watching. You help.”
    The car bumps along,
    its headlights bouncing and jarring.
    â€œThere!” I yelp.
    Grandpa slows the car.
    A doe is running up the hill
    away from the road.
    She leaps gracefully
    over the rocky ridge
    and disappears in the dark.
    â€œBeautiful,” we say together.
    Thousands of tiny ladybugs
    pour out of my heart
    and rush over my body.
    I’m covered head to toe,
    and they begin to glow.
    I dance in front of the black sky
    perfectly.
    Faster and higher.
    Spinning and