Learning Experiences by Allison McDonnell

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Ice skating. John Danziger could not believe that the woman had somehow talked him into ice skating. It had all started the prior winter when Bess had told him the story of her third date with Morgan in which he'd taken her to a synth-arcade. He'd arranged for their own private booth and they'd spent the entire evening in VR at a place known during the twentieth century as Rockefeller Center. She described steel buildings with windows that reflected the clear blue sky, tall golden statues and hundreds of colorful flags representing countries that had vanished long before they were born. There was even a hot dog stand that gave you extra sauerkraut if you asked nicely. And in the middle of it all was an outdoor skating rink filled with people cheerfully gliding around the ice, clueless to the death and destruction that awaited their children and children's children a few decades in the future.

She and Morgan had spent the whole night skating and talking as they got to know one another better. Bess loved it so much that she'd had Morgan bring her back several more times. In fact, he had surprised her with her own personal copy of the program as a wedding gift. It was the first VR chip that she owned or ever wanted to own. Sadness had crept into her voice when she'd explained to Danziger how the program had been left behind during their frenzied escape from the Roanoke.

John couldn't recreate Rockefeller Center for Bess, but he could make her a pair of ice-skates. Luckily, she wore the same shoe-size as Denner and it wasn't too difficult to fashion an additional layer of sole and a metal blade to the bottom of a pair of her boots.

When he'd surprised her with the finished product, at first he thought he'd made a terrible mistake. She examined the gift like it was a fine piece of porcelain and her eyes glistened with tears. John surmised that the skates were a reminder of happier times with her husband that she'd never get to experience again.

Yeah, great goin', Danziger, he sourly thought. He started to apologize when the Earth-res, skates still in hand, threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly.

"They're perfect. Thank you," she quietly sobbed. "Thank you so much for this."

Now John was completely confused. Didn't he just screw up? "You aren't mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" she pulled back and asked, wiping away her tears of joy at the sweet gesture.

"I dunno," he shrugged.

Bess seated herself on a dining room chair and slid her feet into the unlaced boots. "Wow, a real pair of skates. I can't wait to try these out at the lake tomorrow."

She crossed her leg to inspect the craftsmanship more closely and admiringly ran her finger along the edge of the blade. Suddenly, she looked up at him in puzzlement. "So, where's your pair?"

"Huh?"

"Well, it's no fun skating alone," she said in a persuasive tone. "You need to make yourself some skates of your own."

"Oh, no, no, no," he shook his head emphatically. "There's not a chance in hell that you're gonna get me out there on that ice."

Bess decided that drastic times called for drastic measures. She batted her eyelashes and drawled, "But, Jaaaaaahhhhhnnnnn-"

Danziger winced and threw his hands skyward. "Shit."

On days like these, John was almost glad that it was just the two of them living in the mountain range. This way, there were no witnesses to see him falling on his ass (or, as Bess so eloquently put it, possibly breaking a hip as old folks with brittle bones like him are prone to do). In actuality, by the time last winter had drawn to a close, he'd gotten much better at skating. Of course, Bess was a natural and had no trouble at all navigating the ice. She also took immense pleasure in showing him up and razzing him mercilessly about his grace or lack thereof.

They went skating almost every day the weather permitted them traveling outdoors. When spring had finally arrived and Bess packed up their skates and winter clothing, Danziger was amazed to hear her mention that she was looking forward to the next frost so they could go back out on the ice.

This year, an intense cold front had moved in during the late autumn. Although there was only three inches of snow on the ground, the valley had experienced two full days of sleet. Icicles dangled from the frozen leaves that still clung to the trees. Branches drooped toward the ground under the massive weight of the ice and many large limbs snapped as if they were flimsy twigs. The path leading to the lake became a winding obstacle course of downed and low-hanging branches.

But Bess didn't care about any of that. She just wanted to skate.

"Come on, John," she said excitedly. She was already out there reacclimatizing herself to the liberating sensation of coasting across the ice. Danziger was seated at the banks leisurely changing from his shoes to his skates.

"All right. All right. I'm moving as fast as I can," he answered as he removed his gloves to lace up one of the boots. "Just watch where you're going, okay? There might be some patches where the lake hasn't frozen completely."

Bess skidded to a halt in front of him and gave him her best Southern Belle look. "Why, John Henry Danziger, are you suggesting that I might be skating on thin ice?"

He sat back and folded his arms in front of him. "In more ways than one," he quipped dryly.

The Earth-res winked at him as she skated backward in the opposite direction. "Grouch."

"What?"

"Nothing. Hurry up."

John couldn't help but chuckle as he watched a gleeful Bess lightly engraving figure eights into the frozen floor. It was good to see her enjoying herself so much. After watching her a few more moments, he diverted his attention back down to the ground and reinitiated tying his boot. Suddenly, he heard a powerful cracking sound and Bess scream out his name.

When he looked up, she was gone.

"BESS!" he yelled as he took off across the ice, one foot in a skate and the other wearing only a sock.

He could see her flailing body trapped under the ice. He dove the upper part of his own frame into the hole in which she'd fallen through in an effort to grab her. However, the current was gradually pulling her to the mouth of the river and she was already too far from his grasp.

"HOLD ON, BESS! HOLD ON!"

It didn't take long for the cold to siphon Bess' energy from her. Her body was in shock and refused to obey her command to swim back toward the punctured ice. Her lungs burned from the lack of air and she was fighting to stay conscious. Bess also knew that she was drifting out of the alcove and toward the rapids and, once there, she wouldn't survive.

Then, she heard John's muffled calls to her from above her icy tomb and she felt a renewed sense of strength grow within her.

She was not going to die. John would save her. She was absolutely certain of it.

Danziger ascertained the course she was traveling and sprinted about twenty yards ahead of her. He threw himself onto the ice and started desperately trying to break through with his fists and feet to no avail. He could see Bess slowly approaching his location and knew time was of the essence. He removed the skate from his foot and dug the blade into the ice with both hands. With all of his strength, he swiftly carved an 'X' deep into the floor. After discarding the shoe, John let out an animalistic roar as he drew back his right hand and punched a hole squarely through the 'X' and into the frigid waters beneath. He seized Bess firmly by the hood of her brown coat and yanked her up onto solid ground.

Bess exited the water gasping for breath and Danziger turned her to her side as she furiously coughed the liquid out of her lungs.

"Oh, God, Bess," he said, gripped with fear.

He was about to remove her coat and replace it with his own when he realized that his clothes were soaked through as well.

"J-J-J-J-John," was all she could manage through her shivers.

Without hesitation, Danziger scooped her up into his arms. "It's okay, Sweetheart. Just hold on tight. I'm gonna get you back home."

With Bess clutched tightly to his chest, John bolted at full blast back toward the cabin. He hurdled over fallen logs and ducked under sloping limbs. He knew that he should probably be feeling some amount of pain as the thorns and jagged protrusions from the bushes and fallen branches cut into his feet and legs. He could hear the occasional sound of his pants and jacket tearing as he ran like a bat out of hell through the forest. But the only thing that concerned him at that point was getting his friend home before it was too late to save her.

After entering their cottage, he delicately set her down in front of the fireplace and hurriedly tossed in a few logs to increase the blaze. He instructed her to remove her clothing while he went into the other room to draw a bath of lukewarm water. Bess had become so disoriented, she was unable to figure out how to untie the laces of her skates. When Danziger returned, she was still completely dressed and looked up at him with confused eyes. He pulled off her shoes and jacket and carried her to the tub, depositing her fully clothed into the water.

"Ow, John, it hurts. It burns," Bess cried as her body was immersed. "Please make it stop stinging."

"I'm sorry, Honey, it's gonna hurt for a little while until your temperature rises. It'll get better, I promise," he tried to soothe.

Danziger's own hands stung as he took off her outer clothing and checked her skin for frostbite. He noticed that the braid in Bess' hair was frozen solid and would probably snap in two if he exerted any force against it. He grabbed a large cup and began pouring water over her head and shoulders until her hair melted. A few minutes later, Bess' eyes began to shut and she slouched back against the rim of the tub.

"I wanna go to sleep."

He gently pulled her back up to the seated position. "Nope, not yet. You need to stay awake for now. When you stop shaking and I'm sure that you're out of danger, then you can sleep to your heart's content, okay?" She faintly nodded and John asked, "Does the water still sting as much?"

"No, it's feeling better."

"That's a good sign. Do you think you can drink anything? Maybe some water?"

Bess let out a light chortle and mumbled through chattering teeth, "I think I drank enough water to last me a lifetime."

He tried to smile as he stood up. "I'm gonna get you your thermal pajamas and your robe to change into. I'll be right back."

When he returned, Danziger lifted her out of the tub and handed her the dry clothing and a towel. Bess' motor coordination was still severely impaired and she was unable to hold anything or stand on her own. Much to her embarrassment, it was necessary for John to dry her off and change her clothing. He knew how uncomfortable she was and Bess appreciated that he averted his eyes to give her as much dignity as possible.

When the task was completed, he carried her into the living room and swaddled her securely in a blanket. They sat on the floor directly in front of the fireplace and Danziger cradled her in his arms until her shivers subsided. It wasn't long before she was fast asleep.

It was several hours later when Bess gradually reawakened. She could no longer feel the comfort of John's arms around her nor could she hear the crackling sound of the fire nearby. She opened her eyes to find herself in her own bed buried under a pile of warm blankets. The only light in the room was the glimmer of the twin moons as they shone through the window. She turned her head slightly and noticed Danziger sitting silently in vigilance at her bedside.

"John," she said softly.

The mechanic sprang forward to attention. "Hi, Bess. How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad," she responded. "My face feels funny though."

Danziger examined the welt-like marks on her cheeks and nose. "Yeah, you have some frostbite. Not too bad a case though, all things considered." He pulled back the covers and gingerly removed her socks. "Can you wiggle your toes for me?"

After she complied, he took off the gloves he'd placed on her hands to keep them warm. "How 'bout your fingers?" Bess waggled them lightly and he was pleased that the coloring of her skin was slowly returning to normal.

Replacing the blankets, he determined, "Good. I'd say that you're a very lucky woman. All you might get out of this experience is a case of the sniffles."

"How are you doing?" she asked as she began to inspect his disheveled appearance.

"Me? Never better," he reassured. "Got a bit of frostbite on my hands and a few cuts and bruises. Nothing serious."

Observing his watery eyes and flushed complexion, she noted, "You look like you might be coming down with a cold."

Danziger gazed at the floor awkwardly knowing that his health had very little to do with his overall demeanor. "Yeah, maybe," he quietly replied. "Guess this means that you're gonna be force-feeding me some of that herbal swill."

"Elderberry tea isn't that bad, John," she challenged with as much defiance as she could muster. Bess decided not to mention that she planned on adding some bitter tasting yarrow to the brew to counter their cold symptoms. She'd let that be a surprise for later.

"Well, for now, you get to drink some broth," he said, reaching for the half-filled cup next to him.

She leaned her head forward with great difficulty and could barely manage to grasp the mug. "It hurts to move."

"Well, you were shaking so hard, you pulled some muscles in your neck and back. I can see the swelling in your shoulders." John gently placed one hand behind her head and steadied the cup with his other hand to help her take a few sips of the liquid. "You'll be fine after a few days bed- rest."

He carefully eased Bess back onto her pillow and set the leftover broth on the neighboring dresser.

As the mechanic retucked the covers around her, she inquired, "Did a Terrian come for me when I was trapped under the ice?"

He shrugged, "To be honest, Bess, I didn't notice. I was kind of busy at the time."

She expressed in a resolute voice, "I'll bet they didn't come. I wasn't going to die and they knew it, too." She smiled at him affectionately. "I was positive that you would save me."

Danziger furrowed his brows and gave her a sideways glance. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I think your survival had more to do with your ability to hold your breath than anything that I did," he answered modestly. He didn't feel it necessary to argue with her about how close she had really come to dying that afternoon. And how close he had come to losing her forever.

"You probably need to get some rest, too," Bess related in between yawns.

"I will, but I want to stay here a bit longer if it's all the same to you," he remarked.

She nodded her approval and closed her eyes. Much later, Danziger fell asleep in the chair with his head resting on the dresser.

When she woke up the following morning, he was still there by her side.

__________

Bess was dreaming. She knew that it was a dream because it was one that she'd had almost every evening the past few months. It had started around the time of the first frost when she'd fallen through the ice and nearly perished. Now, ten weeks later, it still continued, each time with Bess venturing just a bit further along than the prior night.

She would climb a steep cliff, the wind whipping through her hair as she slowly edged her way up the mesa. Those first few times, she had suffered mild abrasions as the sharp rocks nicked her skin, but, through repetition of the dream, she'd learned the route and could now endeavor upward without injury. Last week, she had reached a small plateau with a ladder which appeared to be embedded into the side of the mountain. She had considered whether or not to continue onward, afraid of where she could end up. She was also a bit nervous about the height, but the ladder would make the ascension easier and besides, she'd never fallen before. Deep down, she knew that she wasn't in any real danger.

In yesterday's vision, she'd reached the very top of the mountain and, much to her dismay, her entrance was barred by a locked metal gate. How many more obstacles am I going to encounter before I get to where I'm supposed to be, she asked herself. Bess had knocked, but received no answer. She'd shaken the door, but it was sealed tightly. Moreover, the wall was too tall for her to scale over to get inside.

This night, Bess believed that she had figured out the secret and knew what had to be done. She closed her eyes and focused intently on creating the instrument necessary for her to achieve her objective. She hesitantly reached into the front pocket of her khaki pants and astonishingly pulled out a small, silver key that had not been there before. Her hands quivered slightly as she inserted it into the lock and turned, unbolting the latch and sending the door wide open.

The Earth-res gasped in exhilaration as she gazed upon a brilliant field of wildflowers and trees bearing blossoms of every color imaginable. She ran toward the edge of the cliff, enjoying the fragrance of the blooms and the warmth of the sun on her face. She wanted to see how far up she was and excitedly peered down into the valley below. She must have climbed even higher than she first thought because all she could see were puffy white clouds beneath her.

Suddenly, she felt a presence beside her. "You probably feel like you could almost touch the Heavens, don't you, Honey?"

Bess swung around and threw herself into her husband's arms. "Oh, Morgan, Sweetie, it's so good to see you," she cried.

She pulled back to look at him. He was impeccably dressed in a gray suit with just a bit of shine to it. Every strand of his hair was neatly tucked into his ponytail and his pale skin was indicative of his upbringing on the Stations.

She turned back to the ledge, inquiring, "Where are we? Is this New Pacifica?"

Morgan smiled as a breeze whisked around and below them. The milky clouds swirled into a fine mist and then dissipated into the air allowing her to see the entire canyon. She immediately recognized it as the valley in which she inhabited. She had an overhead view of the forests and meadows, the raging river along with its alcove, the cemetery, the croplands and their cabin complete with smoke billowing from its chimney. And it was beautiful.

"No," he answered. "But it is home, isn't it?"

She stared at him in puzzlement. His question was obscured by her realization of something else. "I haven't dreamed about you in a while, have I?"

"No, you haven't," he offered simply.

Bess pulled him back into a hug, declaring, "I've missed you."

"I know you do... but not as much, right?"

The widow bowed her head in shame and took a step backward.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Oh, don't be sorry, Bess," Morgan said warmly as he closed the gap between them. "You not dreaming about me all the time is a good sign. It shows that you're healing. That you're moving on."

She looked up to meet his gaze. "But I don't want to move on."

"You don't have a choice. None of us do. We don't get to choose the road on which we walk. We just follow the path and see where it takes us."

Because those words were a bit profound to be espoused by her husband, dead or otherwise, she asked nervously, "Is-is this a Terrian dream?"

"No, Bess, this is a regular dream," he assured, breaking into a grin. Morgan tapped her temple lightly with his index finger. "You're confused about some things right now and this is how your brain is trying to sort it out."

"By dreaming about you?"

"Yes," he answered as his arm dropped down and took her by the hand. "It's okay, Bess. You don't need my permission."

"Permission for what?" she asked, still with a bit of uncertainty in her voice.

Morgan began leading her through the field of sweetly perfumed flowers as he relayed, "I can't tell you what would have become of us if we'd reached New Pacifica. Maybe we would've settled down and had a boatload of kids. Maybe not. We never got the chance to find out."

He stopped and turned to her. "But, Bess, I've been dead for almost five years now. It's okay to feel the way that you do."

"It is?" came the stunned reply. She became somewhat alarmed that he was aware of her recent thoughts. She had to remind herself that this was only a dream and Morgan was just a creation in her mind.

"Of course, Honey. You're still alive," the bureaucrat said as he caught a stray hair with his free hand and wove it back in with the others. "And for the first time in a long time, you're happy."

Bess let the affirmation sink in and grappled with the intense guilt that accompanied it. How could she possibly be happy? Her husband and most of her friends were dead and she was serving a life sentence in prison. How could she feel protected and safe in a world where she was classified as the enemy because she was human? How could she spend her days gardening and swimming; watching the sunset and engaging is carefree conversation by the firelight?

Oh, God help me it's true, she thought, I am happy. She could no longer deny it to anyone, including herself. Furthermore, she came to the conclusion that it was time to stop mourning. It was time to let go of the past.

"Will I still dream about you sometimes?" she asked meekly.

"Sure. There will always be a part of you that will care about me. It just won't hurt so much to remember."

As he spoke, Bess was reminded of someone else very close to her making a similar statement regarding the loss of his companion several years before.

Morgan continued, "Follow your path, Bess. You might like the journey."

"So this is good-bye?" Bess could barely believe that she was saying the words. However, in her heart she knew that she was truly ready to close this chapter of her life.

"Yes," he stated plainly as he enfolded her in his arms.

Choking back a tear, she said, "Good-bye, Morgan."

He pulled back to glance at her once more. "Good-bye, Bess." He tilted forward and, just before their lips met, he whispered, "I love you."

Bess closed her eyes as they shared their final kiss. As they parted, she felt a heavy burden being lifted from her. She slowly opened her eyes to view a different man standing before her. In truth, he'd been there the whole time. He'd always supported and protected her even if it meant putting his own life at risk. He took care of her and understood her well enough to know that she needed to take care of him as well. He was the only person other than her father to tell her that being from Earth was nothing to be ashamed of. This man believed in her and accepted her completely for who she was.

Bess smiled in awe at the emotions that his presence evoked within her. There was joy, security, desire and something much deeper.

She reached up and gently began to caress his cheek with her fingertips. Unable to hold back any longer, she leaned in and brushed her lips across his.

"I love you, too, John."

Bess never had the dream, again.

__________

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