Restart: Chapters 5–8

Just as the thought crosses my mind, she loses her grip and tumbles off the top of the twisty slide. I’m there like a shot, catching her and swinging her around like it’s part of the game. She squeals in exhilaration, spreading her arms, and I get into the spirit, making airplane noises.

He laughs with delight. “There are a lot of athletes out there. But only a few of us can make it rain. There’s something special about Ambrose men, Champ. Don’t let your mother coddle it out of you like she did with your brother.”

“Don’t!” she squeals so loudly that we’re the instant center of attention.
I’m mystified. “Let me help you pick up those—”

Bear is impatient. “We don’t have time.”
“Why?” I query. “There’s no practice today.”

“So we got”— I’m nonchalant, but it takes some doing — “arrested?”

At last, she says, “You’ve just been through an awful ordeal. How can it help your recovery if I tell you a lot of things that are just going to upset you?”

We stop by my place to pick up the tricycle. Chase even takes it for a test drive on the street, practically cackling with mirth. I laugh too, because he looks pretty funny.

The frigid blast has my heart beating so fast it’s practically popping out the top of my head. I try to tell myself to get used to it, but it’s not possible. I’m hyperventilating to the point where I can’t get any air in.

Sure enough, there’s Chase, filming. I experience a surge of relief. The only thing worse than going through this would be going through this for nothing.
My reprieve is short-lived. The soap is next, pelting down on me like wet snow.

We watch the video from the GoPro first. It’s pretty insane — a blizzard of flying foam and torrents of water, and a lot of whimpering I wasn’t aware of at the time. I might have been trying to yell for help, but I couldn’t form actual words.

When the freezing-cold water hits, my entire body writhes, belly dancer style, only at triple speed.

For example, when you see the GoPro image flying all over the place, and then jump to me, jerking and flailing, struggling to keep my perch on the trike, it’s even more hilarious because it explains why the picture inside the car wash is so wild and chaotic.

He enters the room, tentative but smiling.

That does it for Dad. He goes off on a diatribe against the players, the coaches, even the guys who make the chalk lines on the field.

It’s a flashback of Helene. She’s probably what triggered it, because in my memory, she’s squealing just like she is now.