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Fiction Sad Friendship

The one clock hung over the mantle was still. Both hands stuck between the number eleven and the number twelve, just before midnight. John and his wife Ruth were asleep and hadn't notice the hands on the clock had stopped moving. Since that night endless walls of sleet, hail, and snow had whitewashed the woods where their beloved cabin was located. John peered out the window as the snow fell heavily; the full force of the blizzard continued to wreak havoc all around the cabin that was sheltering them from the elements. It was the middle of the night again and the outside was pitch black. There were no visible streetlights or ambient glows from neighboring houses, not that he could see them through the storm if there was. It was one of the things John and his wife loved about their vacation spot in the woods, way out in the mountains, and far away from the city. 

There was no reason for John to fret at the start of the storm. It happened all the time. The snow would begin to fall lasting only a day or two at most, during which time John and Ruth would make a game of it, "Well, can't go outside now!" They would say, both laughing to each other. Ruth would light her favorite candles, John would pick board games, or cards, and they would read their favorite stories to each other out loud. Once the snow stopped, they would go back to whatever it was they were doing before. John would go back collecting the firewood they needed to get through the night and Ruth would continue reading her mystery novels and slaving over the crock pot for their evening supper.  

It was John's idea to wait it out this time and Ruth agreed that they would weather this storm as they had with all of the others before it. Except this time the snow kept falling and the weather got worse as the days progressed. Food was getting scarce since they only ever brought enough on these trips to last for a week's long stay. Not that John felt much like eating anyways with his stomach in knots at the thought of being walled in by the incessant snow fall. Ruth hardly ate at all. She could make a week's supply of food last a month if she had to; and by then she hoped they would be back home safe and sound. 

Since John and Ruth's trip had come to an end, Ruth began packing their belongings, so they were ready to move out at first light. If there was a first light. There hadn't been for days now. What little light that did show through in the morning was shaded to a densely shadowed gray. Yet, they were determined to make it out of there and back to their home in the city. Their backup plan had a backup plan. Their plan B always had a plan C. If they weren't going to be able to stay, then they were going to drive, if they weren't going to be able to drive, then they were going bring only what was necessary to survive and go on foot. They always kept a set of snowshoes for recreational purposes. Ruth loved snow shoeing and she loved dragging John with her on these long winter hikes even more. John hated it, but he never complained. Not once, not ever. Since they knew the area, walking out wasn't going be a problem as long as weather permitted.  

John didn't like their chances with any of the three options, but the odds of them driving out had long passed with the snow piling higher and higher with every passing minute. Staying didn't seem like much of an option either. Their supply of food was the least of their worries. What really bothered John was their dwindling supply of firewood and even more scarce supply of fuel for the generator. There was enough food for two days, maybe three if they rationed well. They figured both the fuel and the food would be better spent towards the energy they would need on the ever-impending trek that they were going have to endure to get out their current situation. 

John's main concern was staying warm long enough for them to take their leave. They were already doing everything they could to conserve the little bit of fuel and wood they had left. The current temperature was already well below freezing, and in blizzards like this the wind could draw the heat out of the cabin in a matter of hours, turning their vacation home into an icy tomb. The term conserve became the subject of debate, disagreeing about the word in and of itself and what it even meant, so much so that it almost became an argument. 

Then the lights flickered, they both looked up. 

"Ruth, the generator! It's almost out of fuel. There's one can left under the porch. I'm going to put it in the tank." 

"Shouldn't we save it?" she replied, "The Cabin is already heated, and we can huddle together and wrap in blankets to keep ourselves warm. Besides it's too dangerous for you to be going out there alone." 

"We have to add it to the tank now. We might not have a chance to do it later if we get snowed in, and if we let it run dead then we will end up wasting what little gas we have left trying to heat the place back up later. It's our best chance of lasting through the night."  

Ruth hated the idea of her husband going out into the cold, but his reasoning was sound. She couldn't argue with him anymore and once his minds made up, that's it, there's no talking him out of it.  

"I'll fill the tank up. Once it runs out, we will use the firewood to last through the night. With any luck there'll be a break in the weather, and we can finally get out of here," said John more assertively, knowing there weren't any actual facts to support what he had just said. 

"Okay, then you better make if fast. I don't want to die in here alone." 

John put on the warmest winter coat he had along with his snow boots, a pair of gloves, a fur lined trappers' hat, and a scarf his wife provided him with that would hopefully keep him warm long enough to get the job done. He gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek and made his way for the door.  

As John opened the door the howling wind got louder, almost deafening. He pushed the lever of the latch on the screen door. If it weren't for the excessive amount of snow that had already built up, the screen door would have most certainly torn out of his hand and slammed against the logs that made up the exterior of the cabin. Instead, he had to exert enough force to push the snow back, then he high kneed and stepped out into the cold without looking back at Ruth.  

While taking a moment to gain his bearings, his eyes began to water from the cold. The flickering lights from inside the cabin were just enough light for him to navigate around the cabin to the generator. John kept his hand on the outside of the cabin, gripping anything he could get his hand on to use as a hold to stabilize himself. It didn't take John long to reach the back side of the cabin where the generator sat outside of the master bedroom window. He half expected to see Ruth standing in the window. She wasn't. She probably could not stand the thought what could happen to him if something went wrong.  

John looked down from the window to the generator that was sitting in front of him. It still looked in good condition considering the beating it had been taking from falling branches and constant assault from the weather. Three steps later he was at the porch where the gas can was sitting, berried underneath the snow. He would have to tunnel down to get to it. Without hesitation he got on all fours and began to dig.  

Burrowing through the snow didn't take much effort, the powder was still fresh and hadn't had time to compact or freeze over. John grabbed the can and pulled himself using the porch rail. As he did there was faint creaking sound coming from somewhere in the background. Then it got louder. Not quite sure where it was coming from and not wanting to find out, he decided to move fast.  

In the exact spot where John was standing just seconds before, a very large branch, maybe a foot to a foot in a half in diameter, came crashing down from one of the nearby trees, destroying the rail and the first two rows of supports that the deck had been built on. If John wasn't on edge before, he sure was now. He kicked into overdrive. Making a clearing on the generator to set the gas can so he could locate the cap to the generator's tank. He removed the cap, filled the tank and put the cap back in its place. The generator went from a sputter to a putter, then it whirred back to its normal sound. John tossed the can, thinking they probably won't be needing that anytime soon and quickly made his way back to the front of the house and safely back inside. 

John wasn't halfway through the door before Ruth was slapping him on his chest saying, "I told you, you shouldn't have gone out there alone." 

"So, you were watching." He said forcing a half smile through staggered breaths and hiding the fact that he knew she was right. 

"Only after I heard the crash, it's a good thing you got back as soon as you did, I was getting ready to go out there after you myself." 

"A very good thing, indeed. At the very least this should buy us a few more hours with the cabin heaters." 

John recovered quickly after the incident with the falling tree and didn't want Ruth to waste any more of her breath on it. Ensuring that his efforts didn't go to waste they both devised a plan that involved keeping the lights off, using candles and flashlights only when they needed them, and saving the firewood for when the generator finally runs out of gas. The rest of the night was spent cuddled closely together wrapped in blankets in their favorite spots on the couch enjoying one another's warmth, only leaving each other's side to stoke the fire. 

Morning had arrived. John and Ruth had fallen asleep on the couch after the last log was put on the fire. Ruth was the first to open her eyes. The generator was out of gas, the wood was gone, and the fire had smoldered out. Their cabin was cold. She could see the condensation from her breath in front of her face. She didn't want to move. It was still warm under the blankets, lying next to her husband. But she knew it wasn't going to last forever. She nudged John once, then twice. After the third nudge he finally woke up still in a haze from the few hours of sleep that he got.  

"We have to get moving." she said 

John slid out from underneath the blankets and stood up to look out the window, shivering as he did. It wasn't what he had hoped. There were no clear blue skies, no rays of sun showing through the tree's canopy, no songbirds or animals of any kind. Just the same gray emptiness they have woken to for the past four days. He looked to his wife and shook his head in defeat. It was a very long walk back to the closest town, two days at least, even in ideal conditions.  

Ruth saw the look on his face. It wasn't good. Whatever he was thinking she wouldn't allow it. "There isn't anything self-loathing is going to do for us now. Whatever has to be done we have to do for ourselves." She demanded that they get going. There wasn't much left to do besides to put on their warmest winter clothes and pack the food that they had left in their bags with a few survival items that Ruth had packed the day before. "It's time to go," she said. 

Just before they were about step out the door John wondered, "What time is it do you reckon?" 

Ruth stopped. John and Ruth turned and looked at the one clock hung over the mantle. Then they turned and looked at each other. Neither of them said anything as they walked out into the blizzard. 

December 22, 2021 05:45

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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