The Burnt Orange Sunrise

by David Handler

  “Why, it’s a miracle,” Carly exclaimed in mock astonishment. “The furnace monkey spoke an entire sentence.” She didn’t say this to anyone in particular, but she did say it loud enough for Jase to hear. The offhanded cruelty of her remark stunned Mitch.

  Jase, too. He peered at her with a surprised, hurt look on his furry face before he turned back to Norma and said, “Is… Jory okay? Where is she?”

  “In the cellar, dear. She was fetching a bottle of wine when the power went out. Les has gone down with a light to find her.”

  They heard footsteps in the kitchen now and Les appeared in the doorway, candelabrum in hand. “You’ll never guess who I found wandering around in the laundry room.”

  “Where is she?” Jase asked him anxiously.

  “Right here, sweetie.” Jory appeared next to Les in the candlelight, giggling. “I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”

  “But you’re okay?” Jase moved over toward her, acting very protective.

  “Of course. Not to worry.”

  Outside, another tree landed with a thud.

  “Folks, we may be in the dark for a while,” Les informed them. “There’s a supply of hurricane lamps and flashlights at the front desk. If you’ll follow me, I can hand them out.”

  “We’re all yours,” Teddy said gamely. “Lead on.”

  “Mitch, may I borrow your elbow?” Ada asked, clutching him by his right arm.

  “Absolutely,” he said, as someone else grabbed his left hand.

  “I’m afraid of the dark,” Carly explained, her hand small and cold in his. “It turns me into a snarling bitch. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t. But Jase might beg to differ.”

  The three of them followed Les and his candelabrum through the blackened entry hall. As they passed the taproom, he could hear Des in there talking on her cell phone.

  At the front desk Jory produced a tray filled with kerosene lanterns. She swiftly fired up enough of them for everyone, bathing the three-story entry hall in a golden glow. She also pulled out a carton of flashlights. Les, meanwhile, checked the telephone at the reception desk. The line was dead.

  From upstairs, a male voice roared, “Will someone kindly tell me what the devil is going on?! It’s pitch-black up here!”

  “That would be our red-meat American,” Ada observed dryly.

  “The storm has knocked out our power, Aaron!” Les hollered up to him.

  “I have no lights up here!”

  “No one does!” Norma called out. “It may get a tad nippy, too, but we’ll just have to muddle through!”

  Muddling through was something that Mitch had gotten quite used to. Out on Big Sister, he lost power pretty much every time they had an electrical storm. On at least a half dozen occasions, he’d gone without power for twenty-four hours. And the darkness was actually the least of it. Without electricity the well pump couldn’t produce water and the fuel pump couldn’t feed the furnace. That meant no water, hot or cold, and no heat—which was why Norma had said it might get a tad nippy. Try frozen.

  “Stay where you are, son!” she called to Aaron as he started down the stairs to them. “I shall bring you a light!”

  “Surely you have a back-up generator for this type of situation,” Aaron blustered as Norma met him on the winding stairs, clutching two lanterns. “They sell the damned things at Home Depot.”

  “We did have a diesel generator,” Les acknowledged. “But our guests complained about the stink and the noise. They prefer to go without. We’ve got plenty of firewood. The kitchen stove runs on gas. And our stereo system can run on batteries.”

  “Oh, goodie,” Ada cracked.

  “Besides, it’s a bit of an adventure,” Les added. “People think it’s fun.”

  “Fun?” fumed Aaron. “Freezing to death in the dark is not my idea of fun!”

  Mitch went over to the big front door and flung it open, shining his flashlight out into the blackness of the howling night. What the flashlight beam revealed was a shimmering, bejeweled world unlike any he’d ever seen before. A gleaming layer of ice had coated every single exposed surface. Every branch, every path, every stone. And the frozen pellets continued to hammer down as the raging winds whipped and tossed the trees out beyond the parking lot, snapping their frozen limbs like bread sticks and slamming them to the ground with horrifying force.

  “God, how I wish I had this on film,” marveled Ada, gazing out at it in wide-eyed wonderment.

  Des appeared behind them now in the doorway, wearing her game face.

  “What have we got, Master Sergeant?” Mitch asked.

  “A T-l emergency, that’s what,” she reported crisply. “Power lines down all over the state. As many as a half million people are without electricity. Most surface roads are impassable. The major highways are skating rinks. They’re shutting the airports down. The governor’s about to declare a state of emergency.”

  “I don’t get it,” Mitch said. “The weatherman said that this storm would be passing out to sea way south of us.”

  “Mitch, the weatherman was wrong.”

  “Any idea when it’s supposed to let up?” Spence asked her apprehensively.

  “By dawn. It’s supposed to get very cold. And then it’s supposed to snow—another six to ten inches.”

  “But I’ve got Hollywood celebrities flying in tomorrow,” Spence protested.

  “I very much doubt that anyone will be flying in tomorrow,” Des told him.

  “You mean the entire event might be canceled?” Les was utterly distraught. “This can’t be. It just can’t. We’ve ordered tons of food and liquor. We’ve taken on extra staff…”

  “You’ll be reimbursed,” Spence promised him. “The studio will make good on it.”

  “It’s not the money,” Les insisted. “Ada was really looking forward to this.”

  “I was not.” She growled. “You were.”

  “We all were,” Les said. “This is a big, big event for us.”

  “Les, if people can’t get here then they can’t get here,” Norma said to him patiently. “We must accept it.”

  Des fetched her shearling coat from the coatroom, climbed into it and started for the door, her hood up, a flashlight in hand.

  “Wait, where are you going?” Mitch asked her.

  “When there’s a T-l, every available trooper goes on emergency assistance detail. That’s why they paged me. I have to find out whether I can get out of here or not.”

  “May I come, too, Des?” Ada asked excitedly.

  Des looked at the old woman in surprise. “Why would you want to do that, Ada?”

  “I want to be out in it.”

  “You’d better not. You might slip and fall.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “Please, Mother, it’s not safe.” Norma took her firmly by the arm and ushered her away from the door. “Just think what would happen if you broke a hip.”

  “Such a frightened little mouse you are,” Ada sniffed at her. “But you always have been, haven’t you?”

  “Whatever you say, Mother,” Norma responded wearily.

  “Hang on, I’m coming with you,” Mitch told Des as he went for his parka.

  “No, you absolutely aren’t,” she insisted. “This is a work thing, Mitch. I can’t put you or anyone else at risk. But send out the dogs if I’m not back in five minutes.” She flashed her mega-wattage smile at him, then headed out, her long lean body hunched into the howling wind.

  Mitch watched her make her way down the icy stones of the front path. She slipped and slid but stayed on her feet. She was lithe and nimble. Careful, too. Still, he kept watch over her, her flashlight growing steadily dimmer as she made her way farther and farther out into the stormy darkness.

  “I’ve never been in a blackout before,” Hannah said, her voice quavering with fear. “It feels kind of like the end of the world.”

  “It’s certainly the end of mine,” Spence said heavily. “I don’t know what
to tell the West Coast.”

  “You Americans are so spoiled,” Ada said reproachfully. “It’s a power outage. The French get them so often they don’t even bother to light candles. They just find someone to make love to.”

  “Typical French behavior,” Aaron said sourly.

  Des had made her way across the drawbridge now. Mitch could just make out their iced-up cars in the distant beam of her flashlight.

  “Why do you right-wingers all hate the French so much?” Ada wondered. “Is it because they know how to enjoy life and you don’t?”

  “No, it’s because they’re spineless.”

  She let out a mocking laugh. “You didn’t exactly sound like Monsieur Spiny yourself just now when the lights went out. You sounded like a scared little girl crying for her mommy. Norma had to come rescue you.”

  “Grandmother, I’ve had just about enough of you tonight,” Aaron shot back. “Kindly leave me the hell alone, will you?”

  “No, please don’t, Ada,” Carly begged her. “This is the most fun I’ve had in months.”

  “Me, I’ve been through three New York City blackouts,” Teddy said. “Know what? They’ve checked out the birth records, and it’s amazing just how many babies were born nine months to the day after each of them. Which is to say, old girl, that the French don’t have the market cornered on l’amour.”

  Des’s flashlight beam was growing brighter now. She was starting back across the drawbridge toward them.

  As she made her way closer, Mitch called out, “How is it?”

  “We can’t get out!” she called back, darting under the castle’s covered entryway. Her hood and shoulders were crusted with ice. Droplets of water had beaded on her face and glasses. “There are two huge trees down right at the top of the driveway, completely blocking it.”

  “Those must be Astrid’s sycamores,” Norma said, her voice heavy. “She planted them there more than seventy-five years ago. They were quite lovely and spectacular, poor things.”

  “How are the power lines?” Les asked.

  “Don’t know. Couldn’t see them.” Des shook the ice off of her coat outside, then came back in, slamming the big door behind her.

  Mitch took the coat from her and gave her his handkerchief for her glasses. “What are you going to tell the barracks?”

  “That they’ll have to cover for me. I’m stranded up here.”

  “They can’t send someone to come get you?”

  She shook her head. “They’ll be stretched thin for bodies as is. Can’t spare other troopers just to come get me.” Clearly, Des was not happy about this fact. She wanted to be out there doing her job.

  “Well, that settles that,” Spence declared decisively. He yanked his cell phone from the breast pocket of his camel’s hair blazer and hit the speed dial button. “Hi, it’s me… No, everything is not okay. We’ve got a natural disaster here.”

  “I’d better warn Wolf Blitzer’s people,” Aaron said, reaching for his own cell phone. “I was supposed to do his show tomorrow. They’re sending up a cameraman.”

  Des got busy phoning in as well. The sudden flurry of cellular activity reminded Mitch of a herd of commuters at Grand Central after Metro North has announced a train delay.

  “Mitch, I was kidding around with you earlier,” Les said. “But it looks like you and Des will be staying over with us.”

  “Looks like. Not a bad place to be stranded for the night, if you ask me.”

  “We’re happy to have you. And just so there’s no confusion, you’re our guests, not paying customers.” Les pulled him aside, lowering his voice discreetly. “But being an innkeeper does mean you have to get rather personal sometimes. What I mean is, one room or two?”

  “One, please.”

  “Fine, fine.” Les went behind the reception counter, poked around and presented him with a pair of keys to room six. “Norma can fix you kids up with toothbrushes. And Jase will fetch you extra firewood and blankets. You should be cozy enough until morning. I’m sure the power will be back on by then.”

  “Dunno, Les,” Jase said softly. “Last time this many trees came down it was three, four days before the crews got to us.”

  “Did your pipes freeze?” Mitch asked him.

  “Would have, if I hadn’t bled them,” Jase replied.

  Les said, “Mitch, if you’d like a nightcap, the taproom should stay pretty snug for a while. But if I were you, I’d go up and get a fire started in your room.”

  Mitch glanced at his watch. It was not yet ten, but the darkness had a way of making it seem a lot later. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I’ll clear the table,” Jory informed Les briskly. “I can cram everything in the dishwasher until morning.” To Jase she said, “Sweetie, you’d better…”

  “Firewood, right.” Jase went tromping back toward the kitchen, lantern in hand.

  By now Des was done phoning in. Norma unlocked the gift shop for them and filled an Astrid’s Castle tote bag with travel toothbrushes and toothpaste, bottles of mineral water and matching Kelly green Astrid’s Castle flannel nightshirts, size extra large. Also a disposable razor and shave cream for Mitch in case there was hot water by morning.

  “If you need anything else, anything at all, do let us know,” Norma said. “Shall I show you up to your room?”

  “We can find it, thanks,” Des said.

  They said their good-nights and started up the winding staircase together, their lanterns casting a soft glow in the darkness. Des had her shoulder bag thrown over her left shoulder. Mitch had been involved with her long enough to know that her SIG-Sauer and her shield were in there. She had to keep them with her at all times. If she left them unattended somewhere, anywhere, they could be stolen. Mitch remained amazed that he’d gotten mixed up with a woman who was always armed.

  “Sorry about this,” he said to her as they climbed. “I know you want to be out there, making sure people are safe. And instead you’re trapped in this castle with a family of feuding crazy people.”

  “No big. It reminds me of Thanksgiving dinner at my Aunt Georgia Mae’s. The only difference with this bunch is that nobody’s throwing punches. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Still, it’s my fault that you’re stuck here.”

  “Mitch, I’m glad I came. And way glad I met Ada. She’s special. But you’re right, I do feel like I ought to be out there.”

  “Same here. I’m worried about Mrs. Enman and Tootie and Rut. They all live alone. They could freeze to death and nobody would know.”

  “I just spoke to First Selectman Paffin. The Center School emergency shelter will be up and running by midnight. We have a plan in place for dealing with the elderly. I’ll make sure your three are on the watch list. The fire department can get them to the shelter if they have to.”

  “Thanks. I’d hate for anything to happen to them.”

  “It won’t. I promise.”

  “Did you reach Bella?”

  “Our phone’s out, and she refuses to get a cell. I’ll keep trying her.”

  “I put down plenty of food for the cats. They’ll be okay by themselves, right?”

  “They’ll make you pay for being somewhere else, but they’ll be fine.”

  “I wish I felt as confident about my houses out there. All I keep thinking about is trees crashing down, roofs caving in, pipes freezing. I’m responsible for that whole island.”

  “Mitch, you’re not responsible for the weather. Besides, Big Sister has withstood a lot of pounding over the years. Compared to a hurricane, this is nothing.”

  The darkened second-floor hallway felt genuinely spooky as they started their way along it with their lanterns, the carpeted floorboards creaking softly underfoot. Those old photos of the celebrated long-dead looming there on the walls certainly didn’t help.

  “I am starting to get definite vibes from The Shining,” Mitch had to confess. “If I see a pair of identical twin girls standing together at the end of the hallway, I’m spending the night ou
t in my truck.” In fact, all he could make out was a glass-paned door reflecting their lantern lights back at them. “Where does that go?”

  “To the tower, and please don’t tell me you want to go up there.”

  “Not even a chance.”

  “Could you believe Ada wanted to go outside with me?”

  “Des, she flew a plane solo when she was sixteen. That’s who she is. If she ever changed, she’d shrivel up and die.”

  Their room was the third door on the right. Mitch unlocked it and set his lantern on the mantel, gazing around. It was cozy and charming, with a huge old oak bedstead. Des took her lantern into the bathroom and deposited their gift-shop loot in there. The room was already plenty cold, so Mitch immediately got busy building a fire.

  “I wonder what they use for kindling around here,” he muttered, pawing through the wood basket in vain.

  Someone tapped on their door. It was Jase, wearing a hiker’s headlamp over his knit cap so that both hands were free to hold canvas carriers of firewood. He looked like a miner standing out there in the darkened hallway.

  “Just the man I wanted to see,” said Mitch, as the squatly built caretaker dumped more logs in their wood basket. “I can’t find any kindling.”

  “We don’t use it here. Too much of a fire hazard. Here…” Jase reached a rough hand into the pocket of his wool overshirt and gave Mitch a sealed plastic packet of something called Firestarter 2. Inside, there was a shapeless blob that distinctly resembled earwax. “Don’t open it. Just light the whole packet.”

  “What’s this stuff made out of?”

  “Man, you don’t want to know. You folks need any extra blankets?”

  “You won’t hear me saying no,” Des answered sweetly.

  Jase went and opened a vacant room and came back with two heavy wool ones. Des thanked him and got busy piling them onto the bed. Outside, another tree gave way under the weight of the ice and crashed to the ground.

  “Will you and Jory be okay tonight?” Mitch asked Jase, who’d retreated back out into the hall.

  “Shoot, yeah. Got us a couple of kerosene space heaters out in the cottage. We’ll be fine. Have yourselves a good night.”

  “Back at you, Jase,” Mitch said, closing the door after him. “He’s a nice guy. I couldn’t believe Carly called him a monkey right to his face.”