The Girdwood Gaffe

Snow squeaked beneath Randall Stephens’s boots as he hurried across the base area of Alyeska Ski Resort. Cold air tickled his nose, and the tall Alyeska Tram rose above him, its bright cabin sliding up the mountain like a small red box.

“Keep up!” called his friend from beside the ticket windows.

Randall grinned and slowed down. He was twenty-five, but on a morning like this, with fresh snow on the trees and the mountain shining in the sun, he felt ready for anything. His friends had come with him to Girdwood for a day of exploring. They had one simple plan: slip into the busy resort, find a fun place to hide, and begin the day with a harmless surprise.

The entrance area buzzed with cheerful voices. Skis tapped on the floor. Boots thumped over the mats. Warm air drifted from the buildings, carrying the smell of cocoa and cinnamon.

Randall glanced at the tram. “We should start there.”

His friend patted a bright lanyard around their neck. “I have the pass. We can get near the tram before anyone notices.”

Randall raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a plan that might work.”

“It will work,” came the reply. “Probably.”

That last word made Randall pause. His friends often had big ideas. Their ideas were exciting, but they also had a way of growing legs and running off in unexpected directions.

Still, the morning felt too bright for worry. Randall waved them toward a side entrance near the tram building. A group of guests stepped through at the same time, and Randall and his friends blended into the crowd.

For three steps, everything went smoothly.

Then the lanyard slipped loose.

“Wait,” said Randall. “Your pass!”

His friend turned, but a family carrying skis moved between them. The lanyard swung once, caught on the edge of a sign, and popped free. It landed on the floor with a soft slap.

Before Randall could reach it, a gust of air from the opening doors pushed it across the smooth floor.

“There it goes!” he said.

The lanyard slid beneath a bench. A child’s mitten brushed it aside. Then a rolling basket of folded maps passed over it, and the lanyard disappeared from sight.

Randall crouched beside the bench. “I can see the blue strap.”

“Can you reach it?”

“Almost.”

He stretched his arm under the bench. His glove touched the lanyard, but at that moment someone opened the door again. Cold air rushed in. The strap slipped farther away and bumped against a stack of empty paper cups.

The cups wobbled.

Randall’s eyes grew wide. “Nobody move.”

His friend froze. “That never means something good.”

The top cup tipped. It nudged the next cup. Soon the whole stack leaned like a little white tower.

Randall reached out to steady it, but his elbow brushed a nearby tray. The tray slid from the counter and bumped a box of paper napkins.

The box tipped.

Napkins fluttered into the air.

One landed on Randall’s hat. Another floated onto the bench. A third sailed toward the tram entrance and stuck to the glass.

A guest pointed. “Look at that!”

Randall pulled the napkin from his hat. “We should fix this.”

They hurried after the loose cups and napkins. Their first attempt only made things busier. One friend grabbed the cups, but the cups rolled under a table. The other friend chased the napkins, which had begun to skate across the floor.

Randall caught three napkins at once. He felt proud for half a second. Then he noticed a small paper sign leaning beside the tram door.

The sign said, PLEASE KEEP THIS AREA CLEAR.

His shoulder had bumped it. It began to fall.

Randall caught the sign before it touched the floor. “I have it!”

“Then I have the cups!” called his friend.

“No, you have the napkins!”

“I thought you had the napkins!”

Randall looked down. The three napkins had blown from his hand. One rested on a bench. One sat on a guest’s boot. The last had landed on the floor beside the tram gate.

A soft bell rang as the tram doors opened.

People began to line up.

Randall tucked the sign under his arm and hurried toward the gate. He wanted to help, but the crowd made the entrance feel like a puzzle. Everyone was moving carefully, and no one wanted to step on the scattered cups.

A small child pointed at the napkin on the boot. The guest laughed and picked it up.

“Thank you,” Randall said.

The child picked up another napkin and handed it to him. “This one too.”

“Thank you again.”

For a moment, Randall saw the mess clearly. It was not a great prank anymore. It was simply a mess that other people had to walk around.

His cheeks felt warm, even in the cold building.

“We need to stop trying to be sneaky,” he said.

His friend looked at him. “But we wanted to start the day with a surprise.”

“We did,” Randall said. “The surprise is paper flying everywhere.”

The friend sighed. “That was not the surprise I imagined.”

Randall set the sign safely against the wall. “Let’s work together. You look under the benches. I’ll gather the cups. Then we find the lanyard.”

They began again, this time slowly....