Page 7 of Catch and Cradle
The stealing Jim plan seems extra stupid now, but it feels good just to be in the building. Everyone else is smiling too. ‘It’s good to be back’ vibes are radiating off us like one of Jane’s obscure candle scents.
“Let’s walk around.” I lead the way forward. “Damn, I missed this place.”
I trail one of my fingertips along the wall of the hallway. The whiskey must still be at work; I feel like I can sense the building’s heartbeat pumping along with my own. This is where the roar of a thousand crowds have cried out in victory and groaned in defeat. This is where stars have been born, where heroes have risen, where families have been forged with ties stronger than blood.
Yeah, it’s definitely the whiskey.
Our shoes squeak on the fresh floor polish that’s yet to be worn down by hundreds of students trudging through these halls every day of the semester. I start steering us to the lacrosse closet.
All we get is a closet. They at least gave us a bigger closet when we qualified to play for the Eastern Canada League. UNS is a well-known university, but it’s not anywhere near as big or as well-funded as schools in places like Toronto or Montreal.
“Jim! I hear him calling!” Iz rushes past me as soon as the closet door comes into view. They stumble a little but make it down the hall without tripping.
I’m ready for our mission to end in defeat as I watch them reach for the door handle. A gasp bursts out of me when the knob twists and the door swings open. Iz lets out a whoop and starts doing a Backstreet Boys-style happy dance.
“Is he in there?” Paulina’s Amazonian legs carry her past Jane and I, getting her to the closet in just a few steps. We jog the rest of the way to catch up.
Iz’s voice filters out of the closet. “Jim! Mi amor! We are here to rescue you!”
When I make it over, Paulina is in the narrow closet lined with floor to ceiling metal shelves, doing her best to grab the edge of one of Jim’s plastic claws where it dangles over the edge of the top shelf.
“Think tall thoughts!” Iz urges.
The tips of Paulina’s fingers miss the claw by a good six inches. “I’m gonna have to climb, you guys.”
“NO!” Jane steps past me and grabs Paulina’s arm. “No climbing! You do not know how well those shelves are attached to the wall.”
“Paulina should boost someone!” I cut in.
“Yes!” Iz raises a hand to high five me. “Teamwork makes the dream work!”
Jane shakes her head and raises her eyes to the ceiling like she’s praying for patience. “Did you two really just high five over that? It’s not exactly a groundbreaking idea.”
Iz and I are too busy trying to measure which one of us has longer arms to answer. I end up winning the contest, and Paulina squats down so I can scramble into a piggyback position.
“This is not where I thought this night was going,” Jane grumbles as Paulina straightens up and wobbles a little before securing us both.
“You brought out the whiskey!” I accuse.
I focus my attention on Jim. To be honest, he looks pretty happy chilling up there, but we’re too invested to give up now. I push on Paulina’s shoulders to lift myself a little higher. She staggers underneath me but catches herself. My fingertips brush the seam of the claw for half a second, but I don’t have enough grip to pull him down.
“Fuck,” I hiss. “So close.”
“Try again! I believe in you!” Iz calls.
A few more attempts end with the same result. I lower myself down and jump off Paulina to give her a break.
“What if you got on my shoulders?” she suggests.
“Jumping Jesus!” Jane’s fisherman’s wife voice is coming out in full force.
“One more try,” I tell her, “and then we’ll go home.” I turn back to Paulina. “Uh, how do we do this?”
“I think maybe if I like, lean forward, and then Iz helps you climb onto me?”
We try a few variations of that and nearly send me crashing into the shelves, but after a few minutes of struggling, I’m settled on Paulina’s shoulders. Now I’m tall enough that my head is in danger of hitting the ceiling.
“This is perfect!” I whoop. “Just move me a little closer to Jim, and we’re good.”