She slipped and I reached out for her. Grace grabbed on to me, laughing. “It’s okay. I’m just clumsy.” She didn’t let go of my arm, which I didn’t mind. We walked down the creek toward the backyard, completely hidden to the world by the willows that grew on both sides creating an arched corridor.

“Have you ever tried skating on this?”

“I don’t know how to skate.”

“I do. It’s fun.” She slid across on one leg, the other out behind her, her arms spread wide. “Look, I’m Sonja Henie.”

“I like hockey,” I said. I reached in my pocket and took out a bottle cap, then dropped it on the ice and kicked it with the side of my foot. It only went a few yards before hitting the bank. Grace shuffled across the ice to where it had stopped and kicked it back. I stopped it and kicked it back to her. It went between her legs and maybe ten feet past. “Score!” I said.

“Yeah, wait until my next kick,” she said, sliding back. Suddenly there was a loud crack. “What was that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Don’t move.” Suddenly Grace fell through the ice. The creek was only a yard and a half deep but she fell sideways, and her head went under water.

“Grace!”

She sputtered and flailed about until she grabbed on to the edge of the ice. She leaned up onto it and it broke, dropping her back in the water. I ran up the side of the bank holding on to the willow branches for support and leaning out over the water.

“Grab my arm!”

She reached over and grabbed me. I pulled her backward, falling into the bushes with the weight of our motion. Then I pulled her the rest of the way out of the water. She was shivering violently. We edged along the bank until we came to an impasse of a thistle bush.

“We need to go back on the ice,” I said.

“No.”

“There’s no other way back. I’ll go first.”