Shelter

Soon the sun would slink below the mountains folding its golden patchwork of brilliance into murky shadows of the forest. Squirrels, chipmunks and rabbits out gathering their evening meal scattered at the thunk of a car door slamming.

Shoulders slumped under the weight of luggage; she navigated the narrow boardwalk strung from the driveway to the cabin amongst a canopy of tall hickory’s oaks, pines, and cedars. Twice the shoulder bag wedged between the narrow handrails and crashed to the damp floor halting her forward motion.

“Ugh”, she looked up. Well aware that sunlight would soon be gone. “It’s getting late." A remnant droplet of the recent rain beelined into her left eye causing her to blink.

“Jesus!” She mumbled angrily.

Chilled and damp from the jaunt over the boardwalk, she dropped the luggage at the cabin door, groped under the window shutter for the front door key, and flipped on the light switch.

That’s right.” She said aloud backing out of the door and rummaging through the shoulder bag for a flashlight. She shook her head at her lack of memory. She’d been coming here as long as she could remember. She knew the generator had to be started before the lights would work. “I’m tired. That four hour drive through the rain wore me out.” She followed the narrow flashlight light beam to the back door.

She checked the gas level in the generator and pulled the cord relieved that it started without hesitation. She flipped on the back porch light and checked the water supply in the rain containment barrel. She made a mental note to go to town within the next couple of days and refill the gasoline tanks. She stacked a load of firewood in her arms, flipped the light on inside the cabin and built a fire in the ancient wood stove they had used for years for heat and cooking.

She walked to the kitchen area of the one room cabin and turned the faucet handle. Dark ooze soon turned to clear usable water. She filled the teapot and placed it on the already warm stove. She stood there for a minute warming her hands, her face, wishing that the warm, cheery fire would fill the harsh coolness she felt inside of her with its bright comfort.

The teapot whistled as she transferred the last package from the shoulder bag to the food shelf. She surveyed her food supply. “Enough for three, four days at the most”, she thought, “then I’m going to have to go to the general store in Valley View for supplies or go home.” She shook her head. “I’m not making that decision today.”  

She flipped off the overhead light, pulled an afghan from the lower bunk bed and wrapped herself in it. She lowered herself in the rocking chair crafted by her grandfather near the wood stove. She managed a small smile as she glanced around the room. Every piece of furniture in the cabin was made by her grandfather or her dad. Grandfather wouldn’t allow anything “store bought” in His cabin! Exhausted and soul weary she closed her eyes and was soon asleep.

She saw herself as a young child riding in grandpa’s old pickup truck bouncing up the steep bumpy gravel mountain road to the cabin, a load of freshly milled boards lashed tightly in the back end. Grandpa and dad were discussing the plans to the bunkbeds they were going to build for the kids while she lapped happily on a lollipop. Mom would soon deliver a baby boy and besides, she was getting too big to sleep with mom and dad.

She then saw grandpa and dad building the bunkbeds and her excited self crawling into the bottom bunk for the first time. She saw her Grandpa, Mom and dad and baby brother playing at the lake beach, baby brother happily squeezing sand between his fingers before tossing it at his feet. She wailed as she ran from her father as he chased her with a slimy, wiggly fish. Next, she saw her brother, baby sister, mom and dad having a picnic at the beach. She heard the five of them ooh and ahh over the brilliant colors of fireworks over the lake. She saw her dad teaching her and her brother to shoot a gun, first to protect them and second to hunt, as grandpa’s rule was they ate what they caught when they were at the cabin. Her vision opened up to her and her siblings hiking through the dense forest chipping a notch in trees to mark their trail, she carried a gun to protect them should they encounter a bear.  She saw all six of them hunting, fishing, boating, and bumping down the mountain to Valley View to pick up supplies and get ice cream.

And then she saw five people. Grandpa passed at the age of 89 while at the cabin. He just didn’t wake up.

Dad got sick a few years after that leaving four people who came to the cabin. The visits became less frequent.

Mom retired and lived in the house she and dad shared until she got sick and moved in with her. The doctors managed to put Moms cancer into remission giving them a few years of joy. Then Mom began to forget little things. The little things grew into big things. She quit doing the things she loved and just sat and watched TV. She began to lose her balance and required constant monitoring. One morning, a couple of weeks ago, Mom did not wake up.

She shifted in the chair as the quiet tones of the undertakers while making funeral arrangements reached her ears. She endured hugs and the quiet words of the endless line of people that came to pay their respects to Mom. She felt the tears. She smelled the flowers.

She saw Mom lying in her casket, face serene, hands folded over her waist in her sparkly gown. She and her siblings thought mom would have liked to spend eternity in that dress since she told them “I feel pretty” when she last wore it.

She saw three people at the cabin. She, her sister and her brother were sitting on the front porch in quiet solitude, a sunset casting golden hues across the treetops, their sad eyes a reflection of their soul.

She awoke with a jerk. Silent tears streaming down her face she cried aloud “Oh Mom! Oh Mom! How I miss you!”

She sobbed until her entire body ached. She stumbled to the lower bunk and crashed into a dreamless sleep.

Outside, the dark stillness of the forest folded around her.