The Cry

The saying goes that the night is darkest before the dawn, but watching the sun break the darkness into the light, I would disagree. Especially with the snow reflecting the light as it drifts to cover everything it touches. Walking over I pour another cup of coffee. My sapphire blue eyes shoot back to the window when I hear the cry. Knowing that cry, it is one that I have heard often, so have the predators that keep to the forest. Walking back to the window my reflection stares right back at me. I look like the shell of what I once was. My eyes that were once bright and vibrant are dull, sunken in and lack life. My collar bone protrudes showing how much weight I have lost. My already pale skin is almost translucent from keeping myself locked away from the outside world. Turning away from my reflection I feel the hollowness that has been housed in me for far too long. Closing my eyes I take in a deep breath counting to ten and slowly letting it out. Moving away from the window I know what will happen and I cannot watch.

Going through the motions of the morning, email, reports, and work in general life has become the motions of doing things, instead of living for the pure joy of living. With how the world is right now working from a cabin in the woods has its perks. The calm and quiet helps with my focus on getting things done. Using work as an escape was not the plan. Living in the cabin that at one time held so much laughter, joy and hope is a torturous balm from what happened. Hearing the cry again, it sends a chill down my spine. If she was still here, we would be out there right now saving the pup. She is not though, because I failed to save her. Death is part of life, causing people to question why it happens and how they could have prevented it. It also lets us remember that we are still living, breathing … that you are still here. Putting on my wireless headphones I turn on my R Mix, time to block out the world.

Rolling my shoulders I feel the tension in my back ease slightly. Rolling my head the pop lets me know that a break is much needed. Pushing my chair out from the desk I stand twisting back and forth trying to get the blood flowing. Bending to touch my toes my headphones fall on the hardwood floor sending the noise echoing throughout the cabin. Taking in a deep breath the tears threaten to break the surface. I cannot let that happen, I have cried enough over what was out of my control. Rubbing both of my hands over my face I count. Shaking my head I walk over to my cell phone. Seeing that I have a text from Regan I smile. She has been the one constant even when she is not. 

R: Please, tell me that you are coming back before the storm Sam?

S: Sorry sunshine, the storm has already hit. (;

I know that she is going to be pissed. I miss her so damn much, but I need time. With everything running through my head, I would become a beast of a person. I would say something that I never meant to, I would hurt the people I love the most. I would hurt her. With the open floor plan I walk into the kitchen. Pulling out simple ingredients for angel hair pasta with portobello mushrooms, artichoke hearts, and spinach, I begin to chop. Cooking is my calm, my comfort, my language of love. I have no recipe and even if I make the same dish twice it never tastes exactly the same. It would be why I walked away from culinary school, I wanted to cook my way instead of the expected way. Turning on the gas stove I walk over and switch the music from my headphones to the kitchen speaker. My body moves with the music as I make lunch. Almost done I begin to plate and as I go to put the final touches on the dish I hear the cry again. Stopping, my heart is beginning to ache with each. I walk back over to the large picture window overlooking the lake and I see a baby fox on the ice alone.

I bring my plate over to the table next to the window. Running my hand over the coffee bags that I stained into the top I smile. Building this was a labor of love, but I never doubted how I was going to finish the top. These bags are what got me through the bad days during that time. Pulling out the chair I sit down, looking at the meal before me. I pride myself on the artwork that is my food. You consume food first with your eyes, food is the only artform that uses all of your senses to not only crate but consume. Beginning to eat I watch the fox pup on the ice. Smiling softly it is clever as most foxes are, being on the ice it has a chance. It does bring to mind however why its mother abandoned it, was it the weakest, did it get lost, is it injured, why was it left to die? Rolling my eyes at how dramatic my thinking has gotten I finish my meal trying to remember that nature does not need a reason to do what it does, it just does it.

Sending off the rest of my analysis for the day I stretch. Hearing my cell buzz I smile. Walking over I unlock it opening up the message from Regan,

R: I hate when you stop talking to me.

S: I hate it as well, but sometimes you need a little space from all that is me. I miss you so damn much.

R: Please come home soon! I need you here! We all do!

S: I will be back before you know it.

R:WHEN?

S: LOL Soon, I promise.

R: I love you! By the way where are you and what are you doing?

S: I love you too! And I am at the cabin and about to go rescue a fox pup from the lake. What about you?

R: My Hell! Do not get rabies or die! I mean who besides you does that?!

S: Noted I will text you once we both are safe.

R: Please be careful, please.

S: Always.

Hearing the pup cry once again my eyes close as I take in a deep breath. I had lost her because I failed to save her. I will be damned if I do not save this innocent creature.

Looking at what I have I end up pulling on my snowboarding bibs, jacket and gloves. I know that I have a small kennel on the deck leading down to the lake. I know that the ice covering the lake might be thick enough to hold my weight. I also know that with the fresh snow that is still falling, it could be unstable in spots. I know the risk, yet I have to do this, even as my stomach clenches at the thought of falling through the ice like she did.

Standing on the edge of the dock I can see that the pup is only about three hundred feet out. Attaching a rope to the deck I loop it around my waist after feeding it through the pulley system she rigged to the deck to help pull the boats in. She rushes through my mind, what would she have thought of me doing this. I smile because I know that she would be out here with me and it would not have taken her so long. In that moment the pup's eyes meet mine. I can see them, pleading for help.  There is only one thing to do, so tentatively as my breath shutters, I step onto the frozen lake.