FICTION

Arms Length: Part 1

Reaching from Within

Twenty-two hours of relentless snow. It began as a sudden gust, a freak blizzard that no one predicted would sweep in off the lake. Stevie couldn’t blame the local weather people for missing the mark. The changing environment was wreaking havoc everywhere, making forecasts a virtual impossibility.

After a few hours, the winds calmed and the deluge turned to continuous buckets of cotton balls falling from above, Large clumps of snowflake fell softly to earth on a rising bed of porcelain. Lines that demarked roads from sidewalk, and then to lawns, no longer existed. A vast pale quilt was all that remained.

Classes were officially canceled for a second consecutive day, and with no let-up in sight, it seemed more likely the whole week would be lost. Stevie managed to contact the parents of every student in her special-needs class, just before the internet went down in her neighbourhood. She was going to miss the impromptu snowball fights, and the class snowman building contest she was planning for the group. It made her happy though, that families would have quality time to spend together. Snow days were for kids, after all.

For Stevie, the forced isolation gave her a chance to recharge, and maybe get some long-overdue tasks done around the house. She might even be able to get through a book or two. She stood at her front window and stared blankly at the giant white glob in the driveway that was once her car. Buried, just like everything else. For now, she thought, a nice cup of hot cocoa would do wonders for the inner spirit.

Turning away from the large bay window that looked out on the massive white plain, she walked into the kitchen and plugged in the kettle. A sliding glass door beside her breakfast table looked out over a small wooden deck that led to the backyard, and a sloping ravine beyond. Even more snow here, if that were even possible.

Mickey, the four-year-old Labradoodle, bounded up to the glass door and sat beside Stevie. His tail wagged electrically as he peered out at the mass of snow. “You want to go play in that, don’t you boy?”, Stevie asked as she turned toward the counter. Then, as if on cue, Mickey started barking.

At first, his yaps seemed normal, but then, Mickey’s barks were intermixed with growls. Wondering what the fuss was about, Stevie turned again to look outside. That’s when she noticed the lone figure, standing at the edge of the ravine.

Through the falling snow, she could barely make out the image of a person dressed in a dark khaki overcoat, shoveling snow into a giant wagon. A fur-lined hood lay loosely on his balding head, and his ankles were bound with what looked like rags to keep in the heat of his body. The coat was ancient, the kind you would find in a surplus shop, and his hands were bare. He was definitely a man, she could see, but frail and slender at best.

Startled at first, Stevie tried to calm the dog down, but to no avail. So she took two insulated mugs down from her cupboard shelf and poured hot cocoa into each vessel. Slipping on her winter boots and feather downed jacket, she opened the sliding door and Mickey, leaped onto the deck and bounded down the stairs. Stevie followed with the mugs of hot chocolate and as she trudged closer, she saw that the shoveling man was much older than she expected.

The wagon was nearly as tall as its owner, with sled blades affixed to the bottom instead of wheels. Working silently and seemingly without over-extension, he looked to be at least seventy-five or eighty. The man kept a keen concentration on his work as Mickey galloped up to get a closer look at him.

“What a curious thing to be doing in a snowstorm”, Stevie thought as she drew closer to the edge of her property. “I thought you might appreciate some inner warmth”, she said as she held out a mug toward him. At this point, the old gentleman stopped what he was doing and plunged the shovel, standing upright, into the snow.

“That is very kind of you miss”, he said accepting the warm drink. Deciding there was no threat intended by this stranger, Mickey ran off to play in the bushes of the forest below.

“So. Can I ask, sir? What are you doing shoveling in my backyard?”, Stevie asked curiously.

“Is this your yard?”, he said looking about, “Who can tell with all this snow?”

“Fair enough”, Stevie replied as the stranger took a sip of cocoa. “But, why do you need this snow here to pile in a wagon?”

“That is a reasonable question to ask”, he replied politely. He handed the thermal mug back to Stevie and picked up his shovel. “This snow is much fresher, better for drinking”, he said as he loaded another pile into the wagon. “I won’t use road snow.”

Stevie’s curiosity was piqued. The poor soul must be very poor, she thought. She watched quietly as he topped off the wagon with the last shovel full, and asked the stranger, “Do you live far from here? Are you able to lug this sleigh home all by yourself?”

“Not too far. I believe I can manage”, he said. “The work fills my day and it keeps me fit.”

“I’d be happy to help you”, Stevie answered. “Schools are canceled today, so I won’t be teaching my class. Let me lend you some extra muscle, such as it is.”

“You are very kind young lady”, the old man accepted as he wedged the shovel into the wagon,. “What about your dog?”, the man asked.

“Mickey will be alright”, she answered. “He can play out here for hours if I let him. He’s never happier than when there’s snow. The silly dog.”

Together, the two set off along a path at the edge of a steep slope that looked down into the riverbed. After about twenty minutes of hard slogging, pushing, and pulling the sled in unison, the pair came upon a small log cabin at the foot of an escarpment, nestled among a small group of evergreens.

“This is it”, the grateful old man said as he maneuvered his giant sleigh of snow against the front, outer wall. “Please, allow me to give a hot cup of water and lemon for your troubles.” As he opened the cabin door, the sweet aroma of burning birchwood wafted out the entrance.

Stevie accepted the man’s offer without reservation. He seemed very tired, and his kind eyes lit up with a grateful twinkle. She had no worries that MIckey would find his way home, and enter the house through his flapped dog door.

Once inside, Stevie removed her coat and sat down at a small wooden table with two chairs. The man busied himself with the kettle while they chatted about the enormous amount of snow that had fallen. Presented with the lovely aroma of hot lemon, she accepted the mug and took a few tiny sips.

“Better?”, the man asked as he sat down across the table.

“Perfect”, she said. She placed the cup down and rubbed her eyes.

“Is everything alright, miss? You look a bit, sleepy.”

“I guess that was more work than I’ve been used to lately.” Stevie took another sip from her mug and set it down again. “I should probably get going while I still have daylight.”

That was the last thing Stevie said before her world went dark and she slumped in her chair.

Thanks for taking the time, and please stay tuned.

Liam Ireland Tree Langdon, CPA, CGA Terry Mansfield Phil Truman Agnes Laurens Britni Pepper Dr. Mehmet Yildiz