About five PM, Robyn got up and went to check on Tim. Finding the snow almost completely melted, she decided to go out and get some more. The bags had leaked too, and now the top of the bed was soaked but she couldn’t do anything about that right now. Donning her jacket, she took fresh bags and opened the door to the camper. Her breath was immediately taken away by the wind and the bitter cold. She was almost blinded by the snow, and filled the bags by feel. When she had finished that chore, she turned to head back but couldn’t find the camper. Where is it? her mind screamed. I only took two steps out of the door! Where is it? Panic was starting to set in when she saw for a brief moment the red and green Christmas lights Tim had strung up. Fumbling blindly towards them, her hand finally found the trailer and she fumbled alongside until her hand felt the latch to the door. She virtually launched herself inside, slamming the door behind her.
Robyn stood there breathless until the panic had subsided. She pulled off her coat and took the bags of snow over to Tim. Sitting down on the edge of the bed again, she placed the snow filled bags under his armpits and along his head, and then took the damp rag off of his forehead.
“Daddy, I just had a bad scare, but I’m okay now. I’m going take care of you until you’re better,” she said, taking the moonshine and rubbing him down with it again. She’d love to be able to give him some medicine, but she didn’t know what to give him or how to administer it to him in his unresponsive state. She would have to just do what she was doing and hope for the best. He was still burning up and the fever showed no signs of breaking, so she just did the best she could. Tim was sweating profusely; she wiped him down and tried to make him comfortable. By this time it was well after dark, and Robyn could hear the wind whistling through the awning rails. She had an alarming thought as she turned off the outside Christmas lights: What if the generator runs out of fuel? I’m going to have to go out there and fill it back up! In that weather! I may get lost and never find my way back! She pushed the bad thoughts to the back of her mind and shut off the rest of the lights in the camper. The snow outside made it bright enough inside to be able to see everything, so she stripped and put on Tim’s t-shirt, and then climbed tiredly into bed. Sleep didn’t come easy even though she was bone tired. She lay there, watching Tim’s dark outline, and could hear his ragged breathing. She watched his chest fall and rise for well over an hour before sleep finally took her.
That sleep didn’t last long. It was well after midnight when she was awakened by a terrible scream. Tim was thrashing around in his bed and talking loudly. She quickly jumped out of bed and ran to his side. Turning on the light, she saw his skin was a bright pink color and he was bathed in sweat. His eyes were open, but she could tell he couldn’t see her. It seemed to her like every bad dream from every person who had ever lived had been bottled up and planted inside Tim’s brain, being released at this exact point in time. The look on his face was one of absolute terror. He flailed around on the bed violently and it was all Robyn could do to keep his arms by his side and keep him from hurting himself. Her mama called them ‘night terrors’, and that’s exactly what it looked like. Tim spat out streams of expletives in a tirade of abuse directed at some unseen enemy in his nightmares, and even though Robyn had heard them all before, she still blushed. This went on for a half hour or so until Tim finally collapsed in a heap on the wet sheets. He was so soaked that it looked as if he’d just gotten out of a swimming pool.
She removed the now empty snow bags, got the damp rag and wiped away the sweat on his brow, then his chest. His breathing was a little more regular now, and when she felt his forehead, she realized that whatever had transpired in his dreams— the night terrors, his delirium— the fever had reached its pinnacle and had burned itself out. Taking the moonshine again, she gave him another alcohol bath to calm him. An unpleasant smell hit her nose and she realized with a groan that Tim had soiled himself. She got another washcloth, soap and a bucket. Putting on the teakettle for some hot water, she returned to Tim’s bed and unceremoniously stripped off the rest of his clothes without a hint of shyness. There wasn't time for that now. Holding the offending clothes at arm’s length, she walked out to the door of the camper, opened it, and tossed the whole mess out into the still falling snow.
The teapot was just about to boil. Turning off the burner on the range, she poured a good amount of the boiling water into the bucket, then added cold water to it until it was just the right temperature. She tossed the rag and soap into the bucket, and carried the whole lot back in to Tim, where she quickly washed him up and cleaned as much off the bed as possible. She wasn’t shy about it at all. She figured the mattress was ruined at this point, but couldn’t do a thing about it. She just knew she couldn’t let Tim lay in his own filth. After she was finished, she rolled him over and got a towel underneath his bottom. That done, she rolled him back and pulled the sheet up to cover him then sat down on the edge of the bed and took his hand. It felt cool and dry now, and that comforted her.
“Daddy,” she said in a whisper, “you get some sleep now. I’ve got you all cleaned up and your fever broke. So just rest up and get better, okay?” She leaned down and kissed him again, turned off the light, and went back to the dinette table. She opened the blinds and saw that it was growing light, and that the snow had stopped. She made a pot of coffee, contemplated her situation, and recalled that she’d never been so scared in her life. Even when The Event happened and her mama died she wasn’t as scared, and that shamed her a little bit. When the coffee was done, she poured herself a cup and sat back down, looking at the newly fallen snow. She thought about the generator again, and knew she’d have to go out there and check on it at some point. At least now it wasn’t a blinding blizzard.
When it was full light, she got dressed in her warmest clothes and sturdy boots, tied her hair back into a ponytail, and donned her rabbit fur hat. She looked in on Tim, and he was sleeping peacefully, his breathing steady and rhythmic. She went to step outside, then stopped at the open door.
“I can’t forget my American Express Card!” She picked up her carbine, slung it over her shoulder, and headed outside. When she got a few feet from the door, she saw Tim’s soiled clothing lying in the snow. She went over to them and checked his pockets to find his wallet that he still carried around with him. She pocketed it, wondering why he still carried it, and took the soiled clothing, putting it all into a barrel Tim had set up to burn the paper trash. She looked in the direction of the generator. In the quiet of the newly fallen snow, she could hear it chugging away. She slogged her way to where they stored the diesel fuel and picked up a five gallon jerry can, then started her way towards the generator.
Almost two feet had fallen overnight, and that, on top of the six inches that had fallen the previous day, made for hard going. The snow was almost up to Robyn’s waist, and she could hardly pull the fuel can through it. Then she got the idea of tossing it a few feet in front of her, then trudging her way to it, and do a sort of leapfrog all the way to the generator. It was hard work, and it took almost an hour to make it the two hundred yards to the generator. When she got there, she was drenched in sweat and took a moment to cool off by removing her hat and unbuttoning her coat. She looked to see that Tim had already taken two fuel cans out, and one of them was still completely full. He probably did that yesterday when he came out to check on it, and she mentally kicked herself for dragging another can out. But she really hadn’t known, and it would have been worse if she hadn’t brought fuel out with her only to find there was none there when she got to the generator, making for a double trip instead of one.
She took the funnel Tim had left and emptied the remainder of the half full can into the generator’s tank, and that topped it off. She saw how much fuel it had burned, and she figured it would run like this for probably seven to ten days. Good! No slogging around in the snow! It was cold enough as it was, she didn’t need to be out in it any more than absolutely necessary. Besides, she had to take care of Tim. She repl
aced the fuel cap and put all the fuel cans underneath the generator, then turned to make her way back to the camper. An unfamiliar sound caught her attention. She turned slowly and froze. A coyote was standing in the snow not ten feet from her. It was covered in mange, and was missing one ear. As soon as she was facing it, it bared its teeth and snarled. Tim had told her to stay away from what was normally a nocturnal animal, like raccoons or coyotes, if you saw them during the day because that usually meant rabies. Get bitten by one, and it was not a really pleasant way to die.
“What the fuck else can go wrong?” she asked aloud. She slowly and carefully reached behind her, picked up the carbine and pulled it up to her chest, snapping open the folding stock.
“Nice doggie, nice, nice doggie!” she said, and it took one step towards her in the deep snow. She cocked the gun, slamming a round home in the chamber, which made the rabid animal jump. It was definitely rabid. She could see the foam dripping from its maw. It was growling at her as she slowly brought the rifle up to her shoulder, and when she had acquired a good sight picture just like Tim had shown her, she squeezed the trigger rapidly three times.
Crack! Crack! Crack! The carbine barked, jumping minutely in her hands.
The coyote spun like it was a top. It yelped loudly and fell into the snow. She lowered the rifle and took stock of the still form lying only a few feet from her. It was the first time she’d fired it, and she was quite happy. There was little recoil, and it was easy to regain the sight picture after each shot; almost as easy as the .22. It was just as Tim had promised, and had made short work of this little bastard. Walking over to it, she saw that it was still alive, so she brought the rifle up, putting one final round into its head, and after the report of the last round, the only sound she heard was that of her rapidly beating heart, and the sizzle of the expended brass shell cooling in the deep snow.
“That’ll teach you to fuck around with girls in this neck of the woods!” Robyn said. She folded the stock back, and placed the weapon on safe, slogged her way through the deep snow back to the camper. On returning, she ejected the round in the chamber, reloaded it into the magazine, and propped the rifle up next to the door. She shucked her jacket and hat and looked in on Tim. He was still sleeping soundly. She sat tiredly at the dinette table, and with a deep sigh, looked at the little tree they had gotten for Christmas. Surely this would be a Christmas she’d never forget. Over the next four days, she busied herself around the camper, and read her book in between taking care of Tim. She had to clean him up several times, and did it robotically, but with great care. He was starting to get dehydrated though, and she tried unsuccessfully several times to get some fluids into him, and she was beginning to worry.
On the morning of the fifth day, she was just getting up and making some coffee when she heard stirring from Tim’s bed. She looked over and saw him sitting up on the edge of the bed with the sheet pulled up to cover his lap.
“I feel like fifteen miles of bad road,” he said, scratching his head. “And I think a bobcat snuck in here and took a shit in my mouth.”
“DADDY!” Robyn screamed, and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck.
“Whoa! Calm down. Not so loud, my head’s pounding!”
“That’s because you’ve been really sick,” she said. She got a huge glass of water and two Tylenol, handing them to him. He took the glass and the pills and downed them both in a few quick gulps. She took the empty glass and refilled it from the tap, and brought it back to him. “Drink it up. You’re dehydrated.”
“Yes ma’am!” he said. “How’d I get undressed?” he asked, giving her a sideways glance.
“I undressed you. You’d messed yourself and I had to clean you up,” she said, looking away.
He felt the mattress, and felt it was still wet. “You cleaned me up?”
“Yeah, several times, you were a mess.”
“Several times? How long was I out?”
“Five days.”
“Five days? Holy shit on a stick!”
“You had me shit scared. When I found you lying out there in the snow I thought you were dead.”
“Last thing I remember was walking back from the generator...”
“Yeah, and I almost peed my pants when I found you. Dragged you all the way in here and got you in bed.”
“You did?” he asked in disbelief. “Oh, baby. Come here,” he said, holding out his arms. Robyn came to him and they hugged tightly.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again, alright?”
“I won’t,” Tim said, still holding her tightly.
“I’m not joking, Daddy. Tell me next time you’re not feeling well.”
“I’ll tell you. I promise!”
“You’d better!” she said, stepping away from him. “Want to try some coffee?”
“Maybe in a minute, I’d like to get a shower and get dressed.”
Robyn turned to leave and pulled the privacy curtain closed. Tim shook his head and smiled. I was out for five days? he thought. Jesus. I must have been really sick. He still wasn’t feeling a hundred percent, but he was alive, and that was good. He headed to the tiny bathroom with his shaving kit, and was shocked at what looked back at him in the mirror. He was pale and gaunt, and must have lost fifteen pounds. His skin had a gray tint that reminded him of a dead fish. The five days’ growth on his chin made him look even worse. He got into the shower, not bothering with a submarine shower, and let the hot water cascade off of him until it ran cold. He shut the tap off and dried himself, brushed his teeth, and lathered up to shave. He scraped the whiskers off his face, and went back into his sleeping area to survey the mattress. Maybe he could just flip it and get by until winter was over. Once he was dressed, he went back out to the dinette where Robyn had some margarine, toast and a cup of coffee waiting for him.
“Thank you, baby,” he said, sitting down and taking a bite of the toast. As soon as he bit into it, his stomach growled, letting him know it was empty and needed refilling. He literally inhaled the toast, and Robyn got up and made him some more.
“Here’s some more,” she said, “but that’s it. You need to take it slow for a few days. I’ll make you some soup for lunch if you want.”
He nodded and thanked her, taking a sip of his coffee. He really was amazed at the change in the girl since he first encountered her. Not only had her backwoods accent almost completely disappeared, her vocabulary had grown in leaps and bounds, and she had matured emotionally so much it was kind of scary. She was soaking up information like a sponge.
“So, I guess it was a little scary for you, huh?” he asked.
“I was shit-scared, but I remembered what you told me about intestinal fortitude so I Rangered up and did what I had to do,” she said, looking him dead in the eye. She then went on to tell him how she had dragged him all the way into the trailer, how she’d packed snow in bags around him to get the fever down, and how she rubbed him down with the moonshine.
“Sorry about that, Daddy. I reckoned you wouldn’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. And what’s with this ‘daddy’ stuff?”
“Well, I figured since you and me are together like this, and how you’ve taught me all kinds of things, and the way you treat me, it must be like how a daddy is. And since I don’t have one… well… now you’re my daddy and that’s that!” she said.
“I guess that’s settled then, huh?”
“Yep, and you can’t get out of it now.”
“I suppose not. I’ve got the job whether I want it or not. I’ve been volunteered!”
“Drafted!”
“And here I was thinking all along we now had an all-volunteer Army.”
“Stuck like glue!” she giggled.
She went on to tell him of her trip out to the generator and her encounter with the rabid coyote, and he was really impressed. He thought back to his nieces and nephews, and how they might have reacted if they were in this position. They’d probably be dead by now. Looking ba
ck on how they were, he thought sadly that they would have just curled up and died because they had no one to do anything for them. His brother and sister-in-law gave them everything they wanted, and the never had to earn anything. He recalled one Christmas he was home, and he and Connie had spent it with his brother’s family. His brother had gotten one nephew some toy, he couldn’t remember what it was, but it had cost him over $400. Apparently it wasn’t the ‘right’ one, and the seven year old boy threw a fit and smashed it on the wall, and his brother said nothing. Looking back, he wished he could have taken those four little brats to some of the Third World shitholes he’d been to, and shown them real poverty, but he thought that that lesson would have been a waste of time.
“So I take it the carbine works fine?”
“Oh yeah, it’s sweet!”
“Did you clean it?” he asked, reaching behind him and getting the rifle. He opened the bolt halfway and saw that there was no round in the chamber, just like he’d instructed, and he was satisfied that all he could smell was Hoppe’s No. 9.
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