Blizzard Benevolence: A Serendipitous Encounter

Outside my window, there is a flurry of white specks falling across the now crystallized grass below. I’m frantically tearing through the house, tossing things toward my room, scrambling drawer to drawer and stumbling over clothes scattered on the floor all throughout. My suitcase is crammed to the max and I have to bounce on it, nearly breaking off the zipper as it strains to maintain the chaos within. 

My usual calm demeanor is replaced by adrenaline as I rush out beneath the looming clouds above…there is no time for caution, I have to go. Quickly, I swing my luggage in the back and close the door with a slam capable of breaking the windows. I crank the ignition, swerving out of the driveway and narrowly avoiding a collision on my way down the street crowded with parked cars. The roads grow slicker as I approach the depths of the mountains which greet me with waves of snow, rendering my windshield wipers useless. Clenching the steering wheel tightly, I sit forward and squint, trying to see beyond only a few feet before my car. The wind whistles outside like a taunting song of doom as I veer closer to the edge of the road, unaware of what’s ahead. I always left town well before winter so I never got special snow tires or even a winter coat… there’s no turning back now… I have to make it. 

For a moment, my car loses traction and swerves, I’m unable to control the spinning as it careens off course and I’m tossed violently to the side with a fleeting sensation of weightlessness followed by immense force and pressure from all directions before all fades to black.

When I wake, my body aches, and I am enveloped in darkness, my face feeling wet and cold. Painfully, I try to sit up and move. My first incoherent thought is that my fingers and toes have been ripped off but the blue discoloration tells me the cold has only robbed me of some feeling. With the little strength I have left, I shift my weight hard to the side, collapsing into the plush snow below, wincing as pain surges up my spine. It’s noticeably darker now and somehow the wind has picked up, slashing my face to shreds with icy spears. I don’t know how long I was passed out and I’m too scared to dare look at my body to survey the damage. Beside me, my car is crumpled up against a tree, the front wheel completely bent and the door dangling from its hinge while the airbags wave eerily in the wind with an incessant flapping noise. Disoriented and delirious, I begin wandering aimlessly in a direction, hoping that divine intervention will guide me to safety. Shooting pain in my neck keeps it locked downward as I watch my steps plunge into the ever deepening snow until I fall face forward into an unexpected hard surface. I thought I must be hallucinating as I looked up to see a small cabin. The door is cracked open as if someone is waiting for me and without hesitation I stumble in, greeted with a cozy space. Desperately, I plunge toward a stack of blankets in the center beside the fire place, wrapping myself tightly as I lie on the ground.  

It’s only a few seconds of quiet before I hear a loud creaking followed by a slam. Shit. A tall figure looms, dark and inscrutable, its gaze fixed on me. Fear paralyzes me until the figure, seemingly indifferent, kneels beside the fireplace, striking wood together creating a small flame. The fire illuminates the cabin in a soft orange glow and reveals the figure's hair, a tangled mess creating wild depictions on the ceiling above. Curiosity replaces fear as he lurks back to the other side of the cabin, seemingly not noticing me. The crackling fire catches my attention with the flame enticing me into its hypnotizing dance. I scooch closer to warm my hands. 

A small pull to my arm draws my attention with a jump, the stranger's dark eyes pierce into mine and he backs away, retreating again to the other side of the cabin. To my surprise, beside me, sprawled out on the floor is an array of medical supplies including bandages, tape, healing creams and stitching tools. Maybe I’m judging him too harshly. The growing shadow returns as he offers me a warm drink which I wrap my icy hands around in comfort letting my face soak in the hot steam emanating from it. Taking a sip, it’s surprisingly good. The storm rages outside, whipping hard against the wood and I worry the cabin will collapse around us at any second but when I look over, he sits toward the fire, looking calm and relaxed as he sips from his cup, not at all interested in me or worried about the storm. 

It takes a while for the groggy, dizzy feeling to fade and the storm outside has noticeably calmed. 

“Do you… live here?” I ask hesitantly. He remains still and I wonder if he heard me or if he’s ignoring me.

“Yes,” he says flatly. 

“Why?” I ask, not realizing how rude the question was. He looks at me with a small grin. 

“I’ve been here… as long as I can remember…” he replies and I get the hint that he’s hiding something but I refrain from prying. 

“I crashed my car.” I blurt out, uncomfortable with the silence. 

“I know.” He says, his voice dry and patchy. He takes a few gulps to cleanse his throat before continuing, “I found your car but you were gone by the time I got there… must have missed you in the storm. What were you doing driving in this anyway?” 

“I always plan to leave town before winter rolls in but I never expected it to come this early. I was hoping to beat it and get through the mountains. Obviously… that didn’t work.” 

“Not a fan of winter, I take it?” he jokes, easing the tension.

I nod and take a long sip of the warm cocoa. 

“Why?” he persists. 

My mind lingers on the question, “I didn’t always hate it, in fact, when I was little it was my favorite… I guess it all changed the year my mom died, it was right before Christmas. All the lights, festivals and holiday cheer just felt insulting and it still does… it’s no time to celebrate… besides, I always hate the cold.” 

“I see…” he replies. Suddenly feeling embarrassed like I overshared, my cheeks flush with heat, but why do I care what this odd looking stranger thinks of me anyway?

We sit quietly by the fire until the cocoa is gone and the flame subsides to a low glimmer. My eyes feel heavy and the last of my energy dissipates as I drift off. When I wake, the bright white earth is pouring into the cabin windows and I shield my eyes as they adjust. The cabin looks different in the day, each wood plank seems intricately carved and cut. Rusty pots and pans are strewn on one side of the cabin with wooden shelving along the other. I sit up, the ache surging through my body as a painful reminder of what happened the previous night. When I look down, there is a bandage on my right hand and I cautiously pull back the blankets to inspect further, finding another on my leg where my jeans are torn as well as on my side where more pain is originating. I graze my hand along my face to feel a series of small bandages along my forehead, brow, left temple, jaw and mouth. Coming to a stand, I ignore the pounding in my head, stretching and bending my arms and legs to loosen the stiffness. Peering out the window, I’m met with a sight of pure white as though the world has been wiped, erased away leaving little more than the small hint of trees and dried grass below. 

The door swings open and he stands there looking at me with a big playful smile. I can see him clearly now, his hair is long and disheveled and his beard jagged as though he cut it himself with nothing more than a hunting knife. His eyes, a deep brown and teeth, crooked and yellow making it clear he’s been out here for more than a while. He’s wearing layers of clothes with black pants and boots that create loud echoes through the cabin as he stomps the snow from them.

Quickly, he unzips his overcoat and tosses it at my feet, then bends over to grab my shoes, throwing them to me also. 

“You’ve got to come see this!” he exclaims with the excitement of a child on Christmas day. 

Reluctant, I oblige and put on my shoes along with the coat that smells strongly of pine cones and fresh wood. He guides me out into the white wonderland, my feet plunging deep into the snow. I don’t know where he’s taking me and why I’m following but something about him just feels comforting at this moment. He stops and looks at me and I try to figure out what I’m supposed to be seeing. There’s nothing around, only tall trees coated in white and the snow above is falling lightly down. I look up and close my eyes feeling the flakes tingle my skin like small kisses. Something about this is calming. It’s quiet, extremely quiet. I feel like I can think, like everything from the outside world doesn’t exist here and it’s just the trees and the snow. I’m snapped out of my daze by something hitting my stomach, a snowball and I look up to see his wide childish grin as he balls up another one. 

For the next hour we run and laugh in giddy excitement amidst this vast, serene forest surrounding us. I forget the aches and pain and relish in the feeling of complete freedom and detachment from the worries of the world. I pause, basking in the memory that returned to me after years of carving it out of my mind. The times when my mom and I would make snow forts and sled hills in the yard. When we’d drunkenly walk along the icy sidewalk, laughing and crying amidst the pink stained world around as the sunset kissed the snow covered land below. 

Maybe I don’t have to run from this. Maybe the cold isn’t so bad after all.