Stormy Weather Ahead

STORMY WEATHER AHEAD

Susan W. Hudson

The supermarket was warm, despite the much-anticipated blizzard that had just begun. It was a couple of hours ahead of the predicted time, hitting just as Court ended at 5:00 p.m and she left work for the day.  Since the market was just a block and a half away from her apartment, Kylie thought she would have time to pick up a few items and hoof it home before the storm was full-blown.  Suddenly, deep in the market, Kylie felt a cold chill climb up her spine and massage her scalp. She realized that, even though the storm was in its very early stages, she was the only person in the market. There were no shoppers, no clerks, no managers. She quickly decided that she should leave and head to the safety of her home. She would build a nice fire in the fireplace and watch the storm come to full bloom. She would worry about getting back to work tomorrow morning. She worked her way up the aisle,  and she was within spitting distance of the door when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a baby carrier, filled with blankets, on the floor before her. What could she do? She must help this infant. She grabbed for the handle of the carrier, and it disappeared. She was grasping at air. She ran out of the store and booked home as fast as she could. The sharp barbs of sleet smacked her in the face and stuck to her eyelashes and eyebrows. The silence of the storm was deafening.  When she found the key and opened the door, there, in her living room, was the carrier with visible activity inside.

Kylie ignored the carrier/blanket bundle. She started a roaring fire in the fireplace and made herself a big sandwich. She watched the weather channel to see if she might be able to get to work tomorrow.  She knew John would be late. He is a much-overworked firefighter/EMT. He would ramble in, lock the door, peck her on the cheek, and collapse into their king-sized bed, to sleep for 12 hours or so. Kylie fell asleep by the warmth of the fire. When she heard John come in, she kissed him goodnight and noted that the blizzard was now full-blown. 

Kylie’s curiosity got the best of her. The fire had dwindled down and the carrier was still there. She gingerly pulled back the blankets and found a baby pig. She named him/her Wilbur (how do you tell with a baby pig?) He was squealing. He was warm and comfortable but seemed hungry. What do you feed a baby pig? She heated up some milk and concocted a nipple out of a sandwich bag with the end clipped off. He took the food well and went right back to sleep. Kylie was so tired, she slept between the carrier and the waning fire. 

When Kylie woke, she heard John getting ready for a new, grueling shift. The carrier and the pig were gone.

Kylie had suspected for a while that she was pregnant. She had not, as yet, taken the test. John pecked her on the cheek and left. She wondered where the baby piglet was.  Kylie drank a cup of coffee and watched the latest news. “Blizzard of the century.” “Don’t leave home unless you have to,” they reported. She decided to shower, just in case she would be able to go to work. When she closed the shower door she saw the carrier, filled with blankets and activity inside. This time she didn’t wait. She crept over and gingerly removed the blankets. It was a bunny and her four babies. Kylie named her Cocoa because she was dark brown and powdery looking. She named the bitties Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail and Pete, after her favorite childhood book. Here we go again with the food. Lettuce for the mommy and little tiny bags of warm milk for the babies. All seemed happy.

Kylie was hoping, despite the storm, she would be able to get to work. She had tried to call the Clerk of Court’s office but got a recording warning about the dangers of the storm.  She was a stenographer for the court system. She dried her hair and dressed in a business suit. She watched the weather channel with despair but tried to remain hopeful. When she checked on the bunnies, they were gone, along with the carrier.  Kylie realized that she would not be able to get to work today. She decided to just tough it out. She made a new fire and some popcorn. She turned on the TV and tried to watch some news and a crazy soap opera. She waited for John as she was accustomed to doing. It was hard on their marriage. 

Kylie loved her job. Her marriage was shaky, and it was inevitable that she would find someone at work who would fill the void in her life.  She drifted off to sleep on the floor in front of the fire. She dreamed of Paul. 

When she and John were first married, they teased each other about who was the blonder and who had the bluer eyes. Kylie stands about ½ inch short of 5 feet 2 inches tall. John is a hair shy of 5 feet 6 inches.  She has always loved John’s blond “Prince Harry” beard.  She is thin, svelte, and well constructed. John is stocky, but his job keeps him muscular.  They make a beautiful couple. 

She fell in love with Paul at first sight. He is smolderingly dark with black eyes. No, he is not a Judge, a District Attorney, nor even a lawyer. He is a Baliff, brown-skinned and rugged. He is 6 feet tall and thin but muscular. When they make love it is secret, tender, and magical. She loves it.

When Kylie awoke again, the carrier was there beside her with visible activity and little whines. She peeked in and found a tiny, dark brown puppy. Again, determining the sex of an animal infant was not her forte. So, she named it Jo Jo, after her namesake. Her father’s name is Joseph Kyle. Her parents decided on Kylie long before she was born. 

Kylie went through the whole process, again, the warm milk, love, and cuddling.  She dozed again with the puppy in her arms, sweet, happy sleep.

Kylie has awakened abruptly with huge bright lights burning her eyes. She could vaguely see four people with surgical masks on their worried-looking faces. She saw John’s face swimming in and out. She saw Paul in the background, waiting in the wings. She could have sworn he was holding a dark brown puppy.

One of the doctor-faces is talking. “Hello; welcome back.” “Blah, blah, blah.” . . . . “. . . passed out in the supermarket.” “Baby is okay; about three months.” “Must rest; vitamins every day; no coffee or alcohol.” “Must prepare John for dark and smoldering.”