In those trying moments, it feels like time stands still for us, but keeps moving for everyone else. We begin to drown in memories. The past wraps us in an invisible blanket, and we suffocate with grief. Memories of what we once were, who they were, and what we wish we had said or done before the loved one passed away sometimes haunt us. Though this book, “Black Ice,” is not about death and grief, despite the hero, Jack, having lost his son prematurely, it is a story about faith, hope, rebirth, love after pain, and transformation. About respecting time. About becoming something new.
It’s about rethinking priorities and letting go of ideologies that no longer serve us. It’s about not throwing out the baby with the bathwater, but instead, changing the bathing environment from turbulent waves to calm streams. One’s mental, physical, and emotional health are key. Without them, everything else will fall apart. Jack, our hero, is drowning in sorrow and rage, and doesn’t even know it. He is not an emotional man. He is a doer. He’s faced many demons – some within himself, and others in human form who dare to stand in his way. Then he meets our heroine, Kim, a talented woman who is sick and tired of the world she left behind. She’s learned to adapt and now, she’s a runner. She runs from pain. Runs from indignation. Runs from humiliation and torment. While Jack, on the other hand, hunts terror head on. Therefore, it’s no surprise that these two run smack dab into one another, and create an avalanche of desires, lust, and love. When they collide, they do so just in time … when they need each other the most.
Come with me to get into a story that is full of everything that makes us human. Thrivers. Lovers. Survivors. Pour yourself a drink and get comfortable. Oh, and watch your step… You’re treading on black ice…
Prologue
I drove deep into the snow-covered valley, and when I stopped, I immediately smelled frozen death. As a ranger and Alaskan hunter and trapper, I knew that scent all too well. I walked closer to the structure in the near distance, following the path of uneven footprints that were shorter and narrower than my own. A second pair appeared occasionally, but then, as if a sentinel demon had come to the rescue, they vanished into thin air. Someone had something to hide.
I wished I’d never seen what I saw next…
My throat grew tight, and my lips and tongue were wicked of moisture.
I knew, before I looked into his dead eyes, that there lay the body of my child. I could see the broad shoulders, similar to my own in stature and form, slumped against the aged, gray wood. The young man had once stood six foot four, but was now reduced to a shell of his former self, all wrapped within himself like a ball of yarn, his skin whiter than the snow. Ice covered bits of him like clear ornaments, with sharp edges here and there. My heart quickened, and the painful thump in my swelling lungs vibrated right down to my screaming soul as my boots crunched over blood-stained sleet with each urgent step. As I neared my son’s remains, now more certain than ever, I slowed down. Something caught me by the throat. Fear of grief. Perhaps if I walked slower, it wouldn’t be true? The truth would go away. That’s what I tried to tell myself. Maybe if I closed my eyes, even for a split second, I’d wake up in my bed, and it would have all been a bad dream?
So, I did just that. I paused. I closed my eyes. I swallowed and imagined a world where my boy was still alive. My heart jerked inside of me as though having a seizure and I inhaled a deep, ragged breath. I stood there thinking, weaving together a tall tale. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. I’d never been a good liar, and the truth came knocking against my skull. There was death fifty feet away from me. The best part of me was slain. Gone. No amount of imagination would change it.
I gave myself a few seconds to gather my wits, balling up my gloved fists and clenching my teeth. Think. Think. Think. I delved back into denial. Something else I wasn’t any damn good at. Have some hope! This is the moment when I can still believe it’s someone else. This is the time when it’s still not true, until I confirm for real. Hold on to this moment. Hold it tight.
I stood there, my thoughts racing once again. I let go of the frozen fantasies. They melted and left me hot and distraught, becoming fuel.