SKATE CITY

Erica, Tania and I have been planning a skate date for ages. There’s a rink in the northland that has a an adult only skate night on Wednesdays, but every time we have set a date, life would intervene. This time, it was Tania who had to work late. So Erica and I decided to go, just the two of us. Erica and her family live just a few blocks west of me, on Terry’s street. I see her and her family playing in the yard and riding bikes all the time now. Josephine makes a point to growl at Erica’s husband when he jogs by us as we walk to the park in the mornings. We’re neighbors but didn’t know it until last year.

I drove over to Erica’s house last Wednesday for our skate date and walked into her kitchen. One child was in the middle of a melt down while the other one solemnly made themselves a snack. Erica’s husband said “I got this.” and Erica and I ran out the back door. It had been a rough day. For everyone. She said that they had not talked about the latest mass shooting with the kids yet, but the kids knew. The oldest is a third grader and Erica figured the kids talked about it at school. The youngest, who is six, was probably just absorbing the vibes around him. I almost asked her “At this point, what do you even say anymore?” but I didn’t.

As we were getting out of the car, Erica confessed to taking skate lessons as a kid and that she owned her own skates. They were white with pink pom-poms and when she said that I gasped. “So did I!” I exclaimed. We walked into Skate City and I looked at her and said “It smells so familiar in here.” Erica nodded and said “A mix of church and movie theater.” It smelled like our childhood. From the earliest time I can remember and well into middle school, the roller rink was a cornerstone in my life. If church was twice on Sundays and once on Wednesdays, then the roller rink was every Tuesday and sometimes Sundays. My skating was nothing fancy, just simple loops around the rink. Occasionally there would be a game of limbo. Occasionally we would all do the Hokey Pokey and turn ourselves around. The first time I ever held a boy’s hand was during a couples skate. I remember how we both wiped our sweaty palms against our respective pant leg afterward.

I do not remember the boy.

My first loop out on the rink wasn’t great. I was disappointed and thought to myself ‘skating should be easier than this’. Was it possible that I’d forgotten how to skate? It took two turns to realize that my wheels were too tight. I’ve never used a skate key in my life, but I instinctively knew how to loosen the nuts on my wheels. Then the skating was effortless. Erica and I swayed easily back and forth, skating loop after loop, admiring the more advanced skaters. Erica introduced me to a couple of her friends that are regulars at Skate City. I wanted to be best friends with both of them immediately. We stood as a pod in a one corner, sipping on fountain drinks and water bottles, laughing and telling stories. Then we skated more loops and for a few hours we were children again.

For a few hours the noise of the world outside was drowned out by loud hip-hop music and the sound of wheels rolling on hardwood.

Tania, we missed you.