“That’s okay, I’m sure it won’t go to waste.”
That’s all that she said about the food I bought. I was expecting more sass from her, but I’m glad it didn’t come. I have a need to take care of her and her son, and I’m not sure why. She tells me about the blizzard, losing power, being snowed in for over a week, and hearing about Larry’s death. Then I realize why my buying her food isn’t an issue. She shows me the newspaper article about Larry’s death and I sit down to read it while she makes us some tea. I haven’t had time to do more than scan the newspaper I bought at Campbell’s.
She asks me, “Why wouldn’t he have accepted the help that was offered to him?”
“I don’t have that answer, Savannah Mae. I wish I did. The only thing we can do is give him the memorial that he deserves.” I take a drink of my herbal tea. “We’ll talk with others to see if they know what his wishes were. Maybe his neighbors or friends would know what he wanted.” She sits beside me and I can tell this worries her. “This is just a preliminary article; as law enforcement officials get more details, the newspaper will update the story. We’ll know more in the next few days.”
We talk for a few minutes and I finish my tea before I ask, “Can I leave my truck parked here? I need to run up and check on Momma and Pops.”
“Sure. Other than the deputy, I don’t think anyone’s been up there,” she says.
“I doubt it. I appreciate them making the climb up the hill to check on them. I know it wasn’t easy.
She laughs, “Daddy said the deputy looked like a polar bear comin’ off the hill.”
“I’m sure he was covered in snow. It looks like you got a few feet of snow.”
”We did. It snowed for a week straight. You got warmer clothes with you?” she asks.
“No, I wish I did.’
“Hold on. I think I have some coveralls that’ll fit you.”
I change into the coveralls she offers me. I don’t ask, but I’m pretty sure they belong to her ex-husband, Ethan. “Are you going to be up later?” I ask as I slip my feet into my boots.
“You comin’ back?”
“I was thinking I would if you’re still going to be up.”
“If you’re comin’ back, I’ll still be up.”
I kiss her goodbye and make the climb up the steep driveway to see my parents. Before I see the light on in the barn, I see smoke roaring out of the chimney. It’s bitter cold and I know they are going through an excessive amount of firewood trying to keep the house warm. Even with a coal furnace, it’ll take extra heat to warm this old house. The house is dark with just a faint flicker of light coming from the kitchen and living room.
Making the climb up the snowy driveway was more difficult than I expected. Carrying four plastic sacks of groceries didn’t help. Momma and Pops don’t know I’m coming and I don’t want to startle them. I fear what I’ll walk into. My worst fear is that they’ll be huddled together trying to stay warm, or they’ll be hungry, or both. The article about Larry’s death has brought a real problem to light for all of us.
When I get to the front porch, I’m surprised when I hear laughter coming from the kitchen. I knock on the door before walking into the house. Momma and Pops are sitting at the kitchen table with a candle lit in the center. The room is warm, and they look happy. Nothing like the image I had in my head. It’s 9:00 p.m. and I thought maybe they would be in bed for the night. “Am I interrupting?” I ask jokingly, but it really isn’t a joke. I’m amazed and thrilled at how well my parents get along, and how well they both look.
“Well, there he is,” Momma says, standing up from the table. Pops also stands up.
I put the groceries and milk on the table and bend over to hug Momma. Lights come on in the kitchen, lighting up the entire room. Why were they sitting in the dark? Do I dare ask?
“I was so worried about you,” Momma says.
“I’m fine, no need to worry about me. How are you both doing? From the looks of it, you’re both doing great.” I hug Pops next and Momma sits back down at the table blowing out the candle.
“We’re good. Nelly made some peach cobbler, do you want some?” I look at the table and I see two plates with crumbs on them and two coffee mugs. I laugh on the inside. There’s a blizzard and Momma makes peach cobbler. I know the heat from the oven will help warm the house, so I imagine that while they had electricity, Momma did a lot of baking and cooking.
“I do. I brought you some groceries. I thought you might be running low.” Picking up the sacks of groceries, I set them down on the kitchen counter. Momma, Pops, and I put everything away before Momma scoops me out a hefty portion of peach cobbler. To my surprise, it’s still warm.
We sit down and I tell them I stopped in and saw Mia and Levi on my way into town. They are relieved to hear they are both all right. Momma explains that the electric just came back on last night. They also ask about Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson. Pops opens up the newspaper I bought and he looks shocked when he reads the headlines. He reads the article about Larry aloud to Momma and me. I wish I had mentioned Larry to them before Pops opened the newspaper. It may have softened the blow of his death, but then on second thought, I don’t think anything would have softened the blow. It’s shocking and devastating, no matter how you hear about it.
We talk about Larry, the snowstorm, and the stockpile of food and wood my parents have in the basement, and in the barn.
“What kinds of food are you storing in the basement?” I ask.
“What kind of food you lookin’ for? We have a freezer full of meat from the animals we slaughter. The garden was pretty good to us this year, don’t cha think, Nelly?”
“Oh yes, mighty good. Don’t forget about the peach tree and the walnut tree.”
I should have known that they would have plenty of food. After all, they live on a farm. That’s their job — raising food. I’ve been away a long time to forget that. I find it amusing that I didn’t consider that my parents would have been prepared for such a situation. They aren’t new to this, and this isn’t their first winter on the farm. Seeing how well they get along and how well prepared they are, I have to wonder if they don’t prefer being snowed in together.
Savannah Mae
I don’t have the words to describe how excited I was to see Abel Lee standin’ at my front door. I didn’t want him to know, so I gave him a sassy attitude about not answerin’ his cell phone. I’m afraid if he knew the feelin’s I had about him, that might scare him off.
I check on Sawyer Jackson and leave his bedroom door open so more heat can flow into his room. These old houses get cold quickly. I lie on the couch and cover myself up with one of my grannie’s homemade quilts. I’m reading Beyond Secrets by DB Jones when the knock at the door scares me. I jerk so much that I drop the book and kick my legs up off the couch from terror. I hear laughter and I know Abel Lee was watching me through the window in the door.
I stand and straighten my clothes before answerin’ the door.
“Did I scare you?” he greets me walking into the house after he stomps the snow off of his boots.
“No, not at all,” I lie.
He stops and looks at me. “Are you sure? Because it looked like you were scared the way you jumped off of the couch in a hurry.” He smiles and I can see the single dimple that I’ve missed so much. “I wasn’t spying, but I could see you through the sheer curtains hanging over the window in the door.”
“I’m sure.” I watch as he walks over and picks up the book I dropped out of fear. I close the door and lock it. These days, I always lock the door. I make a mental note to replace the sheer curtain with something thicker and heavier. I never once thought about killers or peepin’ Toms until very recently. I might have thought of Peepin’ Abels, but I don’t think he’s a peeper.
“I think you dropped this,” he teases as he hands me the book.
“Thank you,” I take the book and set it on the coffee table. I look at him and then his mouth. Oh, that mouth. I q
uickly look away. He removes his boots, hat, gloves, winter coat, and the overalls I gave him to wear. I almost wish he wouldn’t stop there.
“How are your parents doin’?” I sit on the couch and pat the seat next to me to indicate that he should sit down.
“They’re doing better than expected. In fact, I almost felt like I was intruding on them.” He walks over and takes a seat next to me.
“Intrudin’ on what?” I ask, coverin’ myself with the quilt. Abel Lee looks at the small flame burnin’ in the fireplace before he stands to add another log.
“Like I was intruding on… I don’t know, on their alone time or something.” He watches me and comes back and sits down beside me.
“Alone time?” I ask. “They’ve been stranded up there for almost two weeks. Are you sure?”
He laughs and says, “Yeah. They were sitting at the table in the dark having peach cobbler and coffee, laughing like they were on a date. The peach cobbler was still warm.”
Smiling, I say, “I think it’s good they get along so well.” When we get quiet, I ask, “Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m okay. I think maybe it’s too late for me to be here. Maybe I should leave.”
“Do you want to watch a movie with me? I can make us some popcorn if you’d like.”
“You don’t want to be alone? It’s getting kind of late.”
“Not really.” I look at him and then I see the book on the coffee table. “I was readin’ that book earlier and it was kind of scary.”
He smiles and leans up and turns the book over. “No popcorn but a movie sounds good.”
I jump up, euphoric that he’s stayin’ awhile longer. “What do you want to watch?” I hold up several DVDs for him to choose from.
He laughs. “I don’t want to watch Pretty Woman.” I take Pretty Woman away and lay it on the floor.
I say, “I don’t want to watch Tombstone.” I remove it and lay it on the floor on top of Pretty Woman. “Your turn.”
He smiles, “I really don’t want to watch Toy Story.”
“Are you sure? You bought this for Sawyer Jackson and it’s now our favorite movie.”
“I’m sure that you’ll get tired of seeing it before Sawyer Jackson does so there’s no need for you to watch it now. Put it on the floor with the other do-not-watch films.”
“Okay, your loss,” I tease as I place Toy Story on the floor. “Two movies left,” I say, waving the DVD’s in front of me. “Which one will it be?” One movie is behind the other and he can see only the top movie.
We both laugh. He begins to speak, and I interrupt, “Nope, it’s my turn to pick.”
“Fair enough, as long as you don’t choose Pitch Perfect to watch,” he says, pointing to the DVD that he can see.
“I do not want to watch Pitch Perfect,” I laugh loudly and place Pitch Perfect on the floor with the other movies. I wave the final movie — Pitch Perfect 2 — in the air and sing, “We’re watching this one; we’re watching this one.”
I put the movie in and Abel Lee and I lie on the couch, watchin’ the show. I laugh and he kisses the top of my head. After awhile he becomes silent, and I don’t think he’s watchin’ the movie at all. By the time the movie is almost over, I believe Abel Lee may have fallen asleep. I slowly get up from the couch, and he doesn’t move. Lookin’ around the room, I decide to cover him up and let him sleep here. I gently kiss him goodnight before turnin’ the television off, and goin’ to bed.
Chapter Five (Forever Country)
Abel Lee
I wake up in an unfamiliar house. Blinking a few times, I remember last night. I’m at Savannah Mae’s house. I have a kink in my neck that I try to work out before I stand up. Sitting on the couch, I realize how uncomfortable I am. Should I leave? Should I stay? Do I make myself at home and make coffee? I really want some coffee, and I want to go to the bathroom, but I can’t remember if her floors creak. What will Sawyer Jackson think if he sees me?
I hear the coffee pot before I smell the coffee. Thank God, Savannah Mae’s up. I stand and walk into the kitchen, expecting to see her standing at the sink. When she isn’t there, I look around the small house. No Savannah Mae; the coffee pot is on the automatic timer. The floor didn’t creak when I walked across it. I go to the bathroom and I’m surprised when I come out and Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson are still in bed asleep. I quietly wait for the coffee to finish brewing while I stand at the kitchen window and look out at the pile of wood in the backyard. I also notice a few dead trees around the old school that need to be cut down. If they fall on their own and hit the building, it could cause a heap of problems.
I pour myself a coffee and drink it while looking outside. I think I’m afraid if I move, I’ll wake up Savannah Mae and her son. There are a hundred things I need to do and I’m not getting anything done standing here. I need to leave, but I don’t want to leave without seeing Savannah Mae. Looking around, I’m grateful when I find a stack of Post-it notes and a pen in a drawer in the kitchen. I jot down a quick note, and after I check on Sawyer Jackson, I quickly put on my boots and coat, add a log to the hot embers, and leave.
On my way walking to Momma and Pop’s house, I see the preacher getting out of his truck. He takes a few items from his backseat and walks into the church. It’s still bitter cold, but at least it’s not snowing. I decide to stop by and see the preacher before going home. The death of Larry is weighing heavy on my mind. Maybe Pastor Jenson will know something about his funeral and his death. I need a newspaper to see if anything new has been posted.
I knock on the door before walking in. I yell, “Pastor Jenson, it’s Abel L… Kennedy.” I clear my throat. Now Savannah Mae has me calling myself Abel Lee.
“Yes, Abel, please come in.”
I hear him, but I don’t see him. Closing the door tightly behind me, I can still feel the chill in the air. I used the back kitchen door to enter the church. It’s the same door he used to come in. I stand by the door and wait to be invited in further. It’s the house of the Lord, but I still feel like I need an invite on a non-Sabbath day. He appears from the other room and invites me in.
“What brings you here today?” He pulls out a chair for me to sit on at the table.
“I just got back into town last night and I heard about Larry.”
“Ah, Larry Adams.” He nods and says, “There’s been a lot of talk about him these last few days.”
“I’m sure there has. I didn’t know him outside of the church.” I look at him and say, “Is there any news other than what’s being posted in the paper?”
“I called the Sheriff’s Department to try to find out what I could, then I went to Larry’s neighbor’s house when the police couldn’t tell me anything. It seems that Larry was the last living relative other than a few distant cousins who live out of town.”
“He really was a loner. Is there any news of how or why he died?”
“Did you read the Zanesville Times Recorder?”
“I did.”
“According to the neighbor, all of that was the truth. He asked Larry to ride out the storm with him and his wife, and Larry refused. He went back to check on Larry a few days later and that’s when they found him dead. The neighbor said that when he didn’t see smoke coming from Larry’s chimney, he knew something was wrong.”
“So it’s true. He froze to death.” I look at the preacher and he looks as sad as I feel.
“Not sure until the autopsy report comes back, but that’s what it looks like.”
I stand and walk towards the kitchen door of the church. “Was there food in his house?” Please say yes.
“The house had very little food in it, according to the neighbor.”
“This is a real problem, isn’t it?”
“For some people in this area, it is. That’s why we are so grateful to your folks. They do so much for the community and it is so appreciated.” He stands and walks towards me. “I need to thank you for the generous offering you gave to the church a few w
eeks back.”
“Please, don’t thank me for paying my dues. I should have already had those taken care of years ago. God has been very good to me, and I should’ve paid my offerings for that.”
“Our God is a very kind and forgiving God, Abel. We try to live our life like He would want us too. If we do wrong, we try to correct it. We aren’t perfect and we don’t pretend to be.”
“Thank you.”
“The church is very thankful for your generosity, and we plan to use the money wisely. That’s why I’m here today.” I look down at him and he has a kind smile, “The church is in need of a furnace, and with your help, we are able to get a new one. They should be here very soon to install it for us. Please, tell your Momma that on Sunday, the church will have heat as long as the power stays on.” He chuckles and I know he’s referring to the snowstorm and the lack of electricity recently.
“Momma will be happy to hear that. I need to get going.” I begin to open the door to leave and I remember I didn’t ask about funeral arrangements for Larry.
“Is there any word on a funeral or a memorial service for Larry?”
“No funeral. Larry donated his body to Ohio University in Athens. He made clear his wishes to his neighbor, and he also carried a donor card in his wallet.”
“To the Department of Osteopathic Medicine?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Momma and Pops are also future donors. It’s a great cause and many people will benefit from it.”
“Yes, they will.”
“Thank you, Pastor Jenson, for your time.”
“Anytime, Abel.”
I leave and walk up the steep driveway to Momma and Pops. I get a call on my cell phone from a private number. I answer it, but no one is on the other end. I wonder if it’s a prank call or poor phone reception. The snow is frozen and makes it difficult to walk on the ice. My mind races with thoughts of Larry Adams and of Anna Harris, the girl in New York I helped just a few days ago. I hope she is able to start over. She seemed sincere. Was the money I gave her enough to make a difference in her and her son’s life? I hope so.
I have breakfast and take a quick shower. Pops has been taking care of the chores while I’ve been away, and Levi has been snowed in. Momma, Pops, and I talk about Larry Adams. I learn that awhile back Momma and Pops were discussing their plans to donate their body and Larry was very interested. They are pleased to hear that he made the decision to give his body to help others. Thinking about dissecting a body is gruesome, but it is an important part of a doctor’s training. Often, one body is used to train two doctors. One medical student dissects the left side of the body, and the other medical student dissects the right side. Two doctors can save many thousands of lives during their careers.
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