Just a Memory

by Lois Carroll

  She guessed she’d gone about a mile, but there was no way she could be sure. With every step, she wished she’d taken up jogging long ago to stay in shape. Trudging through snow was many times harder than running on a dry road. She picked up her speed and the pain in her side didn’t return as intensely. Her feet and hands hurt. Her feet were so cold and wet, in fact, she found it difficult to get them to flex. Her stiffened steps were jerky and painful.

  She passed another curve. Still no sounds but her own and that of wet snow falling from the trees. She tried to picture how much farther she had to go, but could not. The road had so many curves she couldn’t identify them and soon she couldn’t guess how far she had come or how far she had to go.

  I’ve got to do this. Do it for Mac.

  Talking to herself seemed to help. She had to make it. She was responsible for Mac’s future–a matter of life or death. Carolyn needed to get Mac out of that cabin and to a hospital. He had faith in her and she would not let him down.

  “I can do it, Mac. I can run some more,” she murmured. The night swallowed the breathy sounds of her words.

  The snow blew in her open mouth as she breathed hard and almost choked her. She coughed, losing the cadence of her stride, but at that moment her second wind seemed to come. She sped up and, when she wasn’t on the slope of a curve where her footing was less sure, she ran full out as she’d done at first.

  She wished a car would come by that she could flag down for help. At once she realized she couldn’t take the chance. It might be Harry or his boss Brown Eyes. She had to watch for any car coming so she could hide. Snow-covered now, she thought she had a good chance of going undetected if she just threw herself into the deep ditch and lay still until the car passed.

  Left, right, left, right.

  Carolyn’s head jerked up as she became aware of a noise. Not the sound of a car, but a new sound filled the night. She stopped and turned her head to identify the direction it came from.

  Slowly she maneuvered a long curve without falling and realized she heard a creek rushing with the newly melted snow adding to its volume. The creek. The bridge. The dark form rising ahead had to be the bridge.

  She broke into a run. If a car came now, there was no ditch to hide in. She had to get across the bridge fast. She was halfway across when she thought she saw a light through the trees upstream beyond the bridge.

  The cramp in her side was back and stronger this time. She wanted to stop and cling to the metal sides supporting the bridge. Instead she pressed her icy, numb fist into the pain and kept moving.

  Her steps were becoming a stagger and she couldn’t seem to get any air into her lungs. Every breath hurt her chest. She made it to the far end post of the bridge. She clung to it and bent over gasping for breath. Her gasps turned into wrenching coughs.

  Suddenly she straightened. She saw Mac’s face in the darkness before her. She could see tremendous pain in his eyes. She heard him call out her name. She watched his eyes glaze over and the vision of his face disappeared.

  Carolyn looked back in the direction of the cabin. “Mac?” Something terrible had happened back there. She had to get help before it was too late. Her cold stiff fingers pushed at the frozen hair that had fallen across her face.

  “Mac!” Her anguished cry echoed in the darkness. Tears mixed with the snow on her face. She rubbed them away the best she could with the snowy sleeve of her coat so she could see. The skin of her cheeks hurt from the rubbing.

  She pushed off the post toward town and began to run again. She had to. No one else could help Mac. No one even knew where he was.

  “I can run some more, Mac.” Her words were separated with gasps for breath. Her hand pressed against her ribcage to relieve the pain searing her lungs with each inhalation.

  Over the crunching of her feet in the snow, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart and her lungs drawing air into her shivering wet body.

  Her feet, unbending with the wet cold, slapped against the road. She kept going because she knew every step brought her closer to help for Mac.

  Mac fought the light that beckoned him from the darkness and urged him back into the cabin. Carolyn was gone. There was no other reason he would want to return.

  Harry, standing over him shaking him and yelling his name, saw things differently. “Mac! Wake up!”

  He called Mac one name after another, referring to his parentage and then resorted to shaking his wounded shoulder, apparently hoping the pain would bring him to. Mac hated the fact he was right. When he was lost in the darkness, his damn shoulder didn’t hurt. With Harry pounding on him, it was all he could do to keep from passing out again.

  “Mac, where is she? She went to the bathroom an hour ago. I just found the water still running, but she ain’t in there. The window is open so I know what she done.”

  Harry had a knee on the bed and held Mac’s shirtfront, wet from fresh blood. Mac tried to pull away, but there was no way to escape with his good arm still handcuffed to the headboard. Quickly deciding his best defense was no defense, he acted less than conscious. That was easy because that was the way he felt with the new searing pain in his shoulder. He kept his eyes closed.

  Harry gave one more yell in desperation. “Mac!” Getting no more response than a groan, he held Mac with one hand and eased his frustration with the back of the other hand across Mac’s face.

  That was all it took to send Mac back into the cold black hole where he’d been since Carolyn left.

  Harry dropped his grip on the front of his shirt. While making slurs about Carolyn’s possible vocation and private personal preferences, he grabbed his coat and ran out the front door to trudge through the snow to his car. He swiped the snow off the windshield with his coat sleeve, cursing the whole time. He gunned the motor and with the wheels spinning he exited the cabin driveway and turned onto the road to find the nearest farm where he was certain Carolyn would head.

  The cabin door he’d slammed bounced on the doorframe and popped open again. The cold wind blew inside. By the time Harry pulled out of the driveway onto the road, snow, looking blue in the light from the television, had begun to stick to the threadbare carpeting.

  Carolyn could not go any further without a rest. Her shoulders stooped with fatigue, she wiped the snow from her eyelashes with both stiff hands and looked around her. Light and dark shadows rose in all directions. Had she gone past it?

  She squinted and tried to make out a tall narrow shadow that broadened at the top. It looked too odd-shaped to be anything in nature. It was covered with snow, but that had to be it. She angled her steps across the road and brushed away the snow from it with her arms. Her fingers came in sharp, painful contact with the blades, and she cried out. Then she just cried.

  She’d found the miniature wooden Dutch windmill she’d been watching for. “Thank you, God, thank you,” was all she could say as she leaned on the side of the decorative mailbox to rest briefly.

  When it wasn’t weighed down with snow and frozen in place, Carolyn knew from having been here before that the windmill’s light blades turned in the wind. Right now it was the most beautiful kitsch she’d ever seen.

  “I’m almost there, Mac. Hang on. I’ll get you help.”

  With her strength and determination renewed, she pushed off from the mailbox like a swimmer pushes off the end of a pool. She ran up the driveway leading into the woods. She couldn’t see the yard light from there by the road, but it must have been the light she saw before the bridge. Just a quarter of a mile more. She had come so far, she could go a little farther.

  “It’ll be okay, Mac,” she choked out before talking became too hard for her.

  Totally dark in the woods, she lost her sense of direction and couldn’t make out which way to go. At each clearing in the trees, she wondered if she was to turn in there. She had to slow down and watch each step. She learned the hard way the one-lane gravel road cut through the tall trees on a raised bed. She fell and slid into the ditch af
ter stepping off the edge. She cried out, landed on her hip and one hand.

  Maybe she could just sit there for a while and rest. Her side didn’t hurt now as she lay with her knees pulled up against her chest. It didn’t feel so cold here either, deep in the woods and out of the wind. There wasn’t even as much snow falling beneath the tree branch canopy.

  Carolyn dropped her head onto her arm. She would just rest for a minute or two and then go on. When she closed her eyes, she saw Mac’s face and felt his pain once more. Her face jerked up and she called his name. “Mac! I’m almost there. Help is coming.”

  Carolyn stiffly climbed to her feet. She was careful to walk more slowly and keep to the center of the cut through the woods. Rounding a curve closer to the house, the yard light showed her where the road turned. When she ran out of the woods onto the driveway, she saw the totally dark house and barn before her. Only the high yard light spotlighted the snow.

  They’ve got to be home. They’ve just gone to bed. Please be home!

  She ran in a stooped, straight-legged gait to the porch. “Alice! Alice VanVleet. It’s Carolyn Blake,” she called as she crossed to the kitchen entrance. “Please, Alice, you’ve got to open the door.”

  She pounded on the storm door with both hands. Her icy fingers felt so cold she couldn’t tell if she’d managed to curl them into fists or not. She began to slip and then could only use one hand to pound at a time while she used the other to support herself. She no longer felt the pain in her wrist from her falls. The sharp pain in her fingers and toes seemed to be lessening, too. It’s going to be okay, Mac.

  She was getting no response from within the house. She frantically looked around the doorframe. No doorbells in the country, she remembered. She turned the knob of the storm door with her nonfunctioning fingers and after several tries she got it open. Stepping around it she pounded on the inside kitchen door.

  “Mrs. VanVleet, please open the door. Help me. I’ve got to help Mac…”

  Carolyn’s whole body leaned on the door. Her forehead rested on the cold glass. When she found the strength to lift one, a fist pounded on the side. If only she could just rest.

  No. Can’t sit. Mac needs me. Thinking of Mac kept her standing.

  A light through the glass suddenly shone into her face. She shut her eyes against the brightness and buried her face in her folded arm. Muffled voices in the kitchen beyond the door called out, “Who’s there? Who’s out there?”

  Carolyn lifted her head from the door and looked in. Someone was in there. She slapped the window. “Alice. Arthur. It’s Carolyn Blake. Mac needs help.” Carolyn took another breath to tell them where he was and pain cut across her rib cage. Her breath caught. She winced as the pain threatened to squeeze all the breath out of her. Her legs too weak to support her any longer, she slid down the door in slow motion and would have fallen on the steps if the door hadn’t opened.

  Two white-haired good Samaritans stared down at the icy, snow-covered form on the floor before them and then looked at each other. The stiff body that fell onto their kitchen floor looked more dead than alive.

  The VanVleets rolled Carolyn over on to her back and closed the door. Alice recognized her. “Carolyn! Oh, Arthur, it’s Carolyn, the lady that helped me with my wedding dress.” She struggled to get to her knees and brushed the snow from Carolyn’s face.

  “Let’s get that wet coat off her,” Arthur said. Working together, they managed it.

  “Poor thing is soaked and cold to the bone,” Alice judged. “Arthur, get some dry clothes of yours so she can change out of these. Mine will be too small for someone as tall as she is.”

  Arthur nodded and rose to go get dry clothes.

  The scene in the kitchen played in Carolyn’s mind as if it had been happening at a great distance. She knew Alice had left her side and then returned, but she couldn’t move easily or speak.

  “Carolyn, can you sit up, dear? I’ve poured some tea. Here, let us help you.”

  Arthur lifted her head and Carolyn sipped the tea Alice offered. Her hands hurt so badly when she touched the warm cup she couldn’t hold it. Alice held it for her.

  “Now then, dear, whatever happened? Did you have car trouble?”

  “Alice, call the sheriff. Mac’s been shot. He needs an ambulance. Please. And Terri. I have to let her know I’m okay. She must be very frightened by now.”

  “What’s this?” Arthur asked.

  “Call the sheriff. Please,” Carolyn begged. “You’ve got to get help for my friend.”

  Arthur reached for the phone and Carolyn saw the frown on his face. “Line’s dead.” He held out the phone for them to hear the silence.

  “But the power lines…?” Carolyn asked.

  “Our electricity is out, too. The generator keeps the yard light on when the power fails,” Arthur explained.

  “The power goes off with every snowstorm like this because of the weight of the snow. We knew it would. That’s why I had the thermos of tea all ready.” Alice beamed proudly.

  “What am I going to do? Mac’s been shot and he needs a doctor. We’ve got to call the police and get him help.”

  “Oh, dear. Only one thing to do then, Arthur,” Alice told him confidently. “You go get dressed and bring the tractor to the house. I’ll help Carolyn change out of these wet things and then I’ll quick get dressed. We can get to the tree farm and then we’re in business. Mabel told me just a few weeks ago they got a cell phone. That’ll work even with the lines down in the storm.”

  After Arthur helped Carolyn up into a chair, Alice helped her change. She went to the coat rack and pulled down one of Arthur’s jackets. “This sure isn’t as pretty as your coat, but it’s dry and you should be warm in no time.”

  When Carolyn was bundled up, Alice said, “Will you be all right here while I get dressed?” Carolyn assured her she would. She crossed her arms on the table and laid her head on them.

  Arthur passed through the kitchen on his way to the barn. “I won’t be but a few minutes,” he said as he bundled up in another jacket, hat, and boots.

  Sitting indoors in the jacket and with her clothes exchanged for dry overalls and a flannel shirt, Carolyn began to warm up. She wished she hadn’t when her face, ears, hands, and feet began to hurt. They throbbed with pain. She touched her face with her fingers and the pain brought tears to her eyes no matter how hard she fought them.

  Arthur returned to the door just as Alice appeared dressed and ready to go out. “Here. I just knitted these to give to the church for the Mitten Tree this Christmas. Right now I think you need them just as much.”

  Alice helped her put on the mittens, but Carolyn had to grit her teeth to keep from crying with the pain in her fingers. The courageous old couple bundled Carolyn up in a blanket and despite her being taller, they practically carried her to their huge closed-cab tractor. Carolyn was sure they were in their eighties, but they didn’t let a little thing like that stop them.

  “Don’t you worry now, Carolyn. The tractor can get through the snow and keep us dry and fairly warm too. We’ll be there in no time.”

  Huddled in the broad driver’s seat surrounded by clear plastic windshields on all sides, they studied the ground in the headlights to pick out the unplowed roadbed now buried deep in snow. At the road, Arthur assured Carolyn that he saw no lights in either direction. “No tire tracks either. No car could get through this,” he added.

  They turned away from the cabin and drove at a nerve-wracking slow pace, but made it to Cooper’s Tree Farm back toward town. From the time they reached the cellular phone, the events of the night were hazy for Carolyn. Al Cooper immediately called the sheriff’s office. A county plow came out that far, allowing the police cars to travel behind it.

  Hines got there first in Mac’s four-wheel-drive vehicle. He was with men Carolyn had never seen before. Once Hines was at her side, she reached out, but couldn’t touch anything with her painful hands. She wept at seeing him. He knelt beside the couch she lay on
and gently wiped tears from her cheeks. “It’s okay, Carolyn. You’re safe now.”

  “No, not me. Mac. He needs a doctor. He’s been shot. He’s in the motel north down this road. The one with the row of little cabins.”

  “I know the one,” one of the other men said.

  Hines started to rise to leave with the others.

  “Wait,” Carolyn called as loudly as she could manage. “Mac said to tell you Brown Eyes killed his partner and shot him. Brown Eyes.”

  Mac had been right. The name did mean something to Hines. “You’re sure he said Brown Eyes?” Hines asked urgently.

  “I’m positive. Go to him before Harry wakes up, Hines. Quickly, before it’s too late.”

  While the story of Harry kidnapping her and what happened in the cabin spilled out to the other men present, Hines stopped only long enough to reassure her Mac would be all right and then he left with two others.

  Carolyn wanted so much to believe him. She felt so tired. So sleepy. So cold. Her face and fingers felt like they were on fire. Everyone was moving around, and she just wanted to go home to Terri and sleep.

  Red lights flashed through the Cooper’s kitchen window. “The ambulance is here,” a woman’s voice announced.

  “Tell him to radio for another one,” a deep male voice called.

  Someone lifted Carolyn from the couch onto a stretcher and urged her to lie down. That felt better than trying to sit up, but the blanket they put over her was too tight. It hurt her toes. “No, not me. Mac. Mac needs an ambulance, not me. Help Mac.”

  Would they get to him in time? Her last thought was of Mac as blessed unconsciousness took away the cold and pain.

  With no closed door at the cabin to stop the blowing cold, it quickly permeated the room to the far bed where the cold actually helped bring Mac to a hazy consciousness. He struggled to look around the room and saw Harry was gone, but Mac didn’t know how much time had passed since he’d left. Harry could get stuck in the snow and return on foot at any moment.

  Mac didn’t want to think about the fact that Harry could find Carolyn out there and bring her back. If he let her live long enough to do that. Harry had no reason now to keep Carolyn alive until Morris got here. Finding strength in thinking about the real danger to Carolyn, Mac freed his hand from the handcuff on the headboard.