A. R. Shaw's Apocalyptic Sampler: Stories of hope when humanity is at its worst

by A. R. Shaw

  The few employees Maeve kept did inventory in the evenings and worked part-time on the weekends while the others filled in. Maeve kept herself for Ben most weekends and worked days until he was out of school. That way, he would have some semblance of a normal life. That was how she saw it in her mind anyway. A normal life for a little boy without a father. One she could never replace anyway.

  After turning on the cash register computer system, Maeve checked the back door and looked for any packages left for her. She’d been expecting a shipment from Ingram Content any day, and though today would mark the shipment one day late, she wasn’t worried. The ice on the roads was holding everything back; she’d already received a shipping delay notice in her e-mail.

  A familiar jingle caught her attention. She returned to the front of the store, only to find Elizabeth, the lady that ran the sports store next door, standing inside.

  “Maeve.”

  “Yes, I’m here,” she said as she rounded the many shelves containing the books she loved.

  “Did you hear?”

  “Hear what?”

  “The water pipes in my unit froze and burst. There’s no water.”

  “No, I didn’t hear. Are they coming to fix it?”

  “No, not yet. All the condos above are also out of water. Isn’t this something? Three degrees at the end of October? At this rate, we’ll be in a deep freeze by Christmas.”

  “Oh gosh, don’t even say that.”

  “Well, it’s true. Didn’t you hear about the preordained Ice Age? Many scientists have predicted this for a long time. It’s all over the news. I remember my mother talking about it when I was a teenager. She said the same thing happened back in 1645 and the Thames in southern England froze over. They ice-skated on the river. There are old paintings about it. ‘It’s happened before. It’ll happen again,’” she said. “Like an abusive husband.” Elizabeth laughed.

  “Are you going to close up shop then?” Maeve asked, thinking closing up might be a good idea for her, too.

  “I have to stick around and wait for the plumber to show up. If he shows up. But you could go home. I doubt anyone’ll venture out today anyway. The streets are terribly slick, and they’ve closed the theater.”

  “School’s open, though.”

  “Ben went in then, did he? I heard they were going to let out early.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, I should just call Angelina and Justin and have them stay home. I’ll just pick up Ben and go home and watch movies all day. Maybe make some soup and popcorn.”

  “That’s a splendid idea. You deserve to take some time off, Maeve.”

  Again Maeve half smiled and backed away. Her widowhood always came up, no matter how subtle the conversation. She backed a little more and said, “Well, call me if anything happens, then. I’ll just close up the store and head back and pick up Ben on the way.” Maeve flipped off the cash register and then asked, “Did they say what the high today would be?”

  Her friend stepped back inside the store quickly. “I heard this is it. Three degrees. That’s why it’s such a big deal. I bet I don’t get any trick-or-treaters tonight with this cold weather.”

  “Ugh, that’s right. Halloween. I might take Ben by your place, but the roads are so slick, and if this keeps up by dark it’ll be more like zero degrees. Too cold to take little ones out.”

  “I agree, and not safe to drive on the frozen streets. Do you have anyone nearby to walk him to?”

  Maeve shook her head, “No, we’re out in Beauty Bay. Might as well be the boonies. We like it that way, usually.”

  “You could bring him to our house. Sam’s home—I’ll call him to have something ready; it’s on your way home anyway. Then head back. I bet Halloween will be canceled for a lot of children this year. Too bad, but it’s safer that way, certainly not worth frostbite.”

  “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you, but like you said, we’ll just go straight home.” Maeve could always count on her friend for quick parenting advice. “I’ll lock up and go get him now.”

  A few minutes later, Maeve pulled up into the school parking lot. As she walked toward the green-painted school bell of Fernan Elementary School, she wasn’t surprised to see they’d put down salt on the icy parking lot again to keep the parents from colliding into one another. She also wasn’t surprised to see that several parents also had the practical idea of picking their kids up early on this treacherous weather day. The parking lot was full to overflowing. Why they didn’t cancel classes in the first place confounded her.

  “Hi, Maeve. Ben is in the cafeteria with the rest of the class,” his teacher said as she passed by. “Did you get the text alert on your phone? Some parents are saying they didn’t receive theirs.”

  “No, I just thought I’d close up my shop and come by early to get him because of the weather.”

  “That was smart of you. The furnace isn’t working here, and we can’t hold class in the frigid classrooms, so we alerted the call-in system, which apparently isn’t working either.”

  “Gosh, I hope you get home early, too. It’s supposed to get even colder in a few hours.”

  “I know. I’m worried. We live out toward the Palouse hills, and my kids have to walk quite a ways to our farm from the bus stop, and it’s way too cold for exposed noses. I have to get my entire class home before I can leave and try to catch them before they start the walk home.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s the opposite end of the lake for me, or I’d offer to help. Well, I’ll get Ben out of here. I hope you get to leave earlier,” Maeve said on her way to the cafeteria. She jogged a little down the hall and felt guilty, but something was telling her to hurry home. In the pit of her stomach, a funny feeling advised her to get Ben and get home now. Maeve rounded the corner of the cafeteria when she heard the principal, Mrs. Campbell, announce to all the children:

  “Boys and girls, sometimes we have weather emergencies that might affect our plans. So I would like for each of you to please be responsible for yourselves and your younger siblings. It’s simply not safe for trick-or-treating tonight, and so we are thankful that you’ve each been able to spend your holiday indoors with us today. When you go home, I want you all to stay safely inside. The cold temperatures are just too dangerous to be outside for any length of time. Your parents may have plans to do something else fun inside for the evening instead. In such cold weather, you could easily lose your fingers and toes, and that’s not a very nice trick on Halloween. So enjoy the treats you’ve received here at school instead of going out this evening. Perhaps enjoy Charlie Brown on television or play family games instead. Be sure to bundle up, because no one is leaving these doors without their winter weather apparel on their person.”

  Maeve listened and was very thankful the school was taking the harsh weather seriously. She’d hate to think of children getting stranded off the school bus on their way home for any length of time in this dangerous cold without their coats on.

  Maeve scanned the crowd for her little cowboy, and soon she spotted him with his floppy brown hat on. It must be a parent thing. I can look into any group and zone in on my own child almost instantly.

  Ben spotted her too, and as she stood there shivering, she motioned with her hand for him to come to her. He got up from his spot on the floor and waded through the other boys and girls dressed as everything from princesses to a creative slice of pepperoni pizza.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said, dragging his school backpack and coat behind him.

  “You ready?”

  He nodded.

  “You heard the principal. Put on your coat and gloves.”

  Ben didn’t protest this time since he saw several of his buddies also putting on their outerwear. “They canceled Halloween?” Ben asked quizzically, trying to make sense of what the principal was trying to convey.

  “Sort of. It’s way too cold, so it’s not safe to be exposed outside right now. Let’s hurry and get you in the car before the parking lot turns chaotic.” She too
k her son by his gloved hand and led him outside. One step into the frigid air and the sharp cold took their breath away. Once Ben was strapped securely in his car seat, Maeve checked the rearview mirror again. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her son. He’d had far too much of that already in his young six years. And a parking lot crash wasn’t a good idea either since she’d had a bad driver reputation to overcome since that morning.

  His unruly brown mop was turned sideways as he contemplated the issues outside of the window. “Mom? If we don’t do Halloween tonight, can we do it when the temperature gets warmer again?”

  With an inner sigh of relief, she smiled. “Yes, of course, Ben. I’m certain a lot of other parents are considering the same thing. Sometimes Mother Nature makes you change even the best-laid plans. We’ll cuddle up by the fire tonight and eat popcorn and watch movies. Does that sound like a good idea?”

  “That’s a very good idea, Mom,” Ben said.

  3

  Though Maeve slid on the ice in the shadows of the large pine trees along the way, the trip home was uneventful, and she gave the stranger credit for it because she’d heeded his advice. The man had been on her mind all day. She knew just about everyone that her Roger had known, and not once had she ever run across this particular man with the deep-set blue eyes. She would have remembered those eyes, so piercingly blue you couldn’t help but compare their vibrancy to every shade in nature.

  No, she doubted she’d ever met him before, but he knew her by name. Meaning Roger had to have mentioned her to him over time. Roger did say a few of the fellas that came back with him after their third tour were too lost to serve again. He’d stated that they simply slipped into the forest and were rarely seen. She thought it must be a temporary situation, them just needing some time to adjust to life again. Others in town picked up the story. Maeve believed it was only a small-town rumor, but now she began to consider what fact might lie in those tales. Perhaps some who returned were too far gone from society to fully return. No one could blame them. Roger, when home on leave, suffered from nightmares. Even when he was still home with them, she’d lost a part of him to war even then.

  Like most evenings when she returned home, she changed into her black leggings, wool socks, and Roger’s denim button-up chambray work shirt that hung nearly to her knees. She’d worn the shirt more than Roger ever had, but the soft shirt reminded her of him, and she imagined she could still smell his scent between the fibers.

  “Come on, Mom!” Ben called from the living room.

  “Patience, son.” Maeve shuffled the pot filled with kernels over the gas burner. Of course she could have just microwaved the fluffy stuff, but the kernels never turned out as good. She preferred the old-fashioned method. So with one hand held tightly over the lid, she moved the pot lightly over the gas burner to keep the corn kernels from burning as they heated and began to pop. As the sound of the grains rattling around the bottom of the pan lessened, she held the pot higher over the burner. Then, she quickly poured the contents into a large bowl and poured melted butter and kosher salt over the kernels, tossing the popped corn as she went; each bite held the perfect amount of each ingredient to perfection. “I’m almost done.”

  “Smells so good!”

  She held the large round popcorn bowl with one arm and grabbed napkins with the other, and as the fireplace sparked and crackled, she cuddled up under a plaid fleece blanket with her son; between them, the popcorn bowl rested.

  Ben looked as if he were in nirvana when she placed the bowl down in front of him. Together they watched the latest movie hit rated PG, but even so, Maeve kept the remote close at hand in case anything inappropriate showed up. She’d learned as a parent how to easily pretend to “accidentally” change the channel whenever something too risqué happened to be shown. So far Ben had not caught on, or so she hoped.

  As evening began to set in as early as four, she remembered she needed to set food out for the stray cat Ben had named Jet, who often slept underneath their back porch. “I’m going to feed the cat before it gets too dark. I’ll be right back.” So as Ben watched the dinosaurs lamenting the newest villain in their midst, Maeve tiptoed into the kitchen to pour kibble into a bowl. When she opened the door, an intense cold blast stunned her in place. Closing the door behind her, she flipped on the back porch light. Then, in slippers, she made her way down the wooden porch steps. So cold was she, just in the chambray shirt, that she clutched her free arm around her middle and began to shiver right away.

  “Jet,” she called out, knowing she sounded silly—As if the cat knows his name—but that was the routine she and Ben had begun. The cat usually came running out of the brush but always held back a distance. It seemed he was a reluctant domesticate. Actually, the man she met today reminded her of the tomcat. Somewhere between the wild and what should be. Never to be fully tamed again and always a little broken, or so that was how they preferred life to be, him and the cat. Never committing fully to the assimilation of man or beast, but somewhere in the in-between.

  Those like them were never accepted fully in any part of life. So they remained on their own and preferred it that way.

  “Jet! Come on, it’s too darn cold out here! Brrr,” she shivered.

  But Jet never emerged from the woods as he always did. She was reluctant to leave food out near the house to entice other creatures of the forest, some of which could be dangerous, but she made an exception on this cold night. “Well, I’m going to leave your bowl here,” she said, and in case the cat watched her from behind the trees, he would know where she placed his dinner.

  Maeve tiptoed back inside and locked the door. Then she hurried back to the warmth on the couch with her son and the fireplace.

  “You’re freezing, Mom,” Ben complained as she slid in next to him under the covers on the warm couch.

  “I know. It’s freezing out there for this time of year. After the movie, we should watch the weather report again and find out what’s going on before we go to bed.”

  As soon as the film was through, though, Ben lay asleep leaning against her side. She changed the channel and turned the volume down.

  Bob Madeira appeared again on the news channel, and she’d never seen the charming meteorologist look so troubled.

  “I don’t see an end to this, folks. Nothing in the forecast would indicate a lessening of the current trend. It’s winter no matter the calendar date. Expect snow in the morning up to eight inches in the Coeur d’Alene area. Keep your pets inside and make sure your children are bundled up if they go outside. Please limit their time to ten minutes. It’s that cold. Schools are closed across the region, and please stay home if you don’t have to go to work. Check in with elderly residents and make sure they have sufficient heat. Be careful out there, folks.”

  “Snow? Eight inches? Great.”

  Maeve lifted Ben up, and at six years old he was becoming too big for her to carry him for much longer. She was five foot five and hefted books all day long, but she conceded now to herself that the days were numbered when it came to lugging her son’s weight around. It was a sad realization. Had his dad been alive, he would have had a few more years of a parent carrying him around on occasion.

  She climbed the stairs and placed him gently in his bed but didn’t close the door so that the heat could continue to penetrate the cold, empty space. She tucked him in and then went to the hall closet to retrieve another blanket to spread out across him. “Good night, Ben. Sweet dreams,” she whispered.

  Maeve padded back downstairs into the living room and added another log to the woodstove, poking the inferno around a little with the pointy end of an iron poker that she kept nearby. The cord of wood Roger had chopped the last time he was home was quickly dwindling away, and she’d have to order some more or split some herself to keep them warm through the winter because the furnace just wasn’t keeping up with the low temperatures. Their property backed up into the Coeur d’Alene National Forest, so there was plenty of downed wood
to choose from. She’d have to go and see if she could round up a few smaller logs as a last resort.

  Looking into the flames, she sighed deeply, trying to keep her sadness over Roger at bay. It was a daily battle. She knew it did her and Ben no good to keep mourning him. His death had been nearly a year ago now, and she wasn’t crying herself to sleep at night anymore. She knew if she kept going down that long, dark, fruitless road, not only would she lose herself, but her son as well. She could not forsake Ben.

  Maeve had muted the television, but she caught a glimpse of the school closures streaming at the bottom of the screen, and there flashed all of Coeur d’Alene’s school districts reporting closures for the rest of the week. “That does it,” she said to herself, picking herself up off the floor and retrieving a wine glass from the cupboard and a bottle of her favorite Smoking Loon Merlot. After she had armed herself with a corkscrew, she brought the items back into the living room and sipped a glass while picking at the remaining popcorn kernels that were stuck to the bottom of the wide plastic bowl while she gazed into the flames of the fireplace. That evening was the first time she’d had a drink and not sunk into the abyss of missing Roger. Of course she missed him, but she’d crossed that bridge, and now she could enjoy the taste and honor his memory as well.

  Then, suddenly, she heard a cat screech, and she nearly spilled the wine when she jumped up from the couch. “What the heck?” she said and set the glass on the end table before going out to investigate.

  Remembering the intense cold, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders before she opened the back door. Something had tripped the motion detector light Roger had installed, and Maeve believed the perpetrator was nothing more than Jet, the cat.