The Snowstorm

by S. K. McClafferty

  He wasn’t the only one, Lara thought, all but overwhelmed by a sudden wave of intense gratitude. This big rough man and his simple life had worked their magic, finding a way to salve a wounded heart. And somehow, miraculously, he had reached little Eli.

  The snowfall had far exceeded the predicted amount, and eighteen inches capped the roof of the small cabin, blanketing the yard in untouched white. Finally, on the morning of the second day, the clouds thinned, and the sun broke through. Blue shadows lay deep beneath the trees and bushes, and the silence was complete. Lara had come outside with Eli, only this time, she did not look away for even one second.

  Samuel had uncovered the woodpile and was busy gathering an armful of split wood for the fire. When he finished, he stood watching Lara play with her boy in the snow. The temperature had risen over night, and the frozen precipitation had begun to melt, losing its fluffy consistency. It was just wet enough now to allow them to make a snowman.

  Lara rolled the balls around the cabin dooryard, an activity that fascinated Eli, who rushed to emulate her movements. He pushed the snowballs with her, grunting happily, and when they became too big to move, Samuel stepped in and stacked them one on top of another. They added an old hat from inside, and propped his axe beside it.

  “S-s-s,” Eli said, delighted by their handiwork.

  Later that evening, with supper long past and the fire blazing on the hearth, Lara sat in the rocker, watching Eli sleep. Samuel occupied a corner of the hearth, his long legs stretched out before him. An old book lay open on his lap, and from time to time he turned a page, but otherwise, he was silent. “It’s easy to see why you love this place,” she said, after a while. “There’s a peacefulness here that doesn’t seem to exist out there.”

  “It has its charm, I suppose,” he replied. “It does get lonesome, though, from time to time.”

  “Have you ever thought to find someone, to share it with you?” It was a very personal question, but she truly wanted to know, and did not take it back.

  “I had a wife and a little boy, a long while back. Sarah and Adam.”

  “What happened?”

  “They took sick and passed away. They’re buried side by side in the churchyard a few miles from here. It’s a nice place to rest, but I sure do miss them. I’d give anything to see them again.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

  “No need to be. I do all right on my own. I got my work, and enough to get by on, and God is kind. Just when the lonesome gets too bad, someone like you will stop by and stay a night or two. It helps break the monotony. And it’s enough for a man like me.”

  Lara went to him then, bending down to kiss his rough cheek. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done. You saved my son, and me—and though I don’t know how—you were able to reach inside of him, to break through the walls and help him to take the first step out of his world into mine. It’s invaluable to me.”

  He put an arm loosely around her, his big hand resting lightly on the middle of her back. “He’ll be just fine. No need to worry over that.” He glanced at her and then away. ‘The trail to the cabin where you are staying is passable now, and it’s almost balmy out there. If you’d like to get back, I can guide you.”

  She left the cabin without so much as a diaper, and Eli needed attention badly. “I would like that, thank you.”

  And so, they headed out. As they topped the rise, capped with tall pine and naked maple, beech and elm, Lara looked back with a small pang at the place where she’d narrowly avoided disaster. Smoke plumed from the chimney into the frosty air. The last thing she saw before starting down the other side of the low ridge was the snowman, standing silently in the dooryard.

  Lara returned to Beaver and following her pediatrician’s advice, enrolled Eli in the Rainbow School. He started with a half-day, and as he adjusted to his surroundings, and his new routine, they extended his hours. Lara missed him terribly, but seeing the strides he was making helped to ease the anxiety of their separation. His autism was not as severe as they’d feared. Winter faded, and the big oak tree outside the apartment window sprouted new red leaves. Daffodils and tulips bloomed along the borders of the courthouse lawn, and her divorce from Michael was finalized.

  By early May, Eli was talking. Just a word or two, but it was a start, and Lara was overjoyed. Of course, his very first word was “snow.” It made Lara think of Samuel, and everything he’d done for them. He’d saved both their lives, and though she didn’t understand how it happened, he triggered the miracle change in Eli. A brief visit, and a heartfelt thank you, seemed the least that she could do.

  On a beautiful day in early June, she packed the diaper bag for an outing, strapped Eli into his car seat, and headed north. She remembered that a two-lane blacktop ran a half-mile from Samuel’s cabin, but she could not seem to find the exact spot. She drove around for over an hour, following a maze of dirt roads, with no success in finding that lonely cabin. Nothing looked quite the same.

  Confused, and maybe just a little disappointed, she pulled into a small convenience store parking lot, took Eli, and went inside.

  The woman behind the counter was as round as she was tall, and had a cherub’s face. “Can I help you with something, dear?” she asked, when Lara approached the checkout counter.

  “I hope so. I seem to be a little lost. I’m looking for a cabin near here, owned by a man named Samuel. It’s just one room, and small, but in a lovely location. Do you know him, by any chance?”

  The woman’s expression went from open to wary in an instant. Though she still smiled, that smile was tight. “There are a few Samuels who live around here. Maybe if you describe him for me?”

  “He’s a big man, and very kind. Gentle and soft-spoken, with dark hair and eyes. I owe him so much, and I’d like to thank him again. He saved our lives not long ago, when we got lost in the snow.”

  “That sounds like Samuel Harken, but honey, Samuel doesn’t live here. Why he’s been dead for fifteen years.”

  “Dead?” Lara said with a laugh. “It can’t be the same Samuel. He was very much alive when I left here in January! We stayed at his house for two nights. I didn’t dream it up. It was very real.”

  “Would you like a cappuccino? It’s on the house.” She served the drink in a Styrofoam cup, leading the way to a booth along the big plate glass window. “I believe you, dear. It has happened several times over the last fifteen years. Folks get lost in the snow, and Samuel finds them. He’s saved many a life since he took his own.”

  “He—I don’t understand.”

  “Killed himself the winter after his wife, Sarah, and little Adam died. He left no note, but those who knew him well weren’t surprised. They said that the lonesome got to him, and he needed to follow them into the spirit world. The strange thing was they found his old hound dog beside him. Poor old thing had just lay down beside Samuel’s body and died. Guess he didn’t have any more heart to go on without his master than Samuel had to go on without his wife and child. Kind of poetic, when you think about it.”

  Lara raised a hand to her brow, still in shock. “That doesn’t make sense. He was as real as you or I!”

  “Maybe it would help if I took you out there. Seeing the old place for yourself will help clarify things—and maybe like you say, it wasn’t the same Samuel.”

  Lara jumped at the chance, certain the woman was somehow mistaken. She must have been thinking of another Samuel—though the names of the wife and son of the man who’d taken his own life were identical to the man who’d saved her and Eli and given them shelter from the storm. It had to be a coincidence. There was no other explanation that made sense.

  “Lawrence?” the woman called. And then, when a thirty-something man appeared, “Mind the store for a while, will you, dear? I’m going to take a drive with this nice young lady, and show her Samuel Harkin’s place.”

  “Not again?”

  “Looks like it. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” She got into her Jeep
Cherokee and led the way, while Lara followed. Down the highway and onto a two-lane blacktop, then left onto a dirt road with weeds grown high in its middle. Forest crowded the lane, and wild roses grew proficiently everywhere. By mid-June, it would be a place of enchantment, fit for faeries and elves. It was beautiful, but it in no way resembled the sturdy cabin where she and Eli stayed for two days and nights.

  Finally, the Jeep came to a stop in the only spot that was not choked with encroaching wilderness. A few yards away stood the ruins of a cabin. It was approximately as big as Samuel’s, but that was where the similarity ended. The roof was bowed, and tarpaper hung in ragged sheaths from the rotting roof boards. The steps to the porch sagged, and the door hung awkwardly on its hinges.

  “Here it is,” the woman from the convenience store said. “But I wouldn’t go in, if I were you. That roof could give way at any minute.”

  Lara ventured close enough to look inside. Sunlight slanted through a hole in the roof, pooling before the stone hearth, the only thing that remotely resembled the home that she remembered. Next to the hearth, the skeletal remains of a rocker stood. The wooden arms had withstood the elements, but the deeply padded seat was torn to bits—the foam lying all around in clumps.

  Something caught her eye, drawing her inside against her better judgment and her companion’s warning. She walked cautiously to the windowsill, where Eli’s snow globe sat, covered with dust, but nevertheless confirmation that something had happened here. That she wasn’t losing her mind.

  As she left the ruins, she turned back once and whispered a thank you to Samuel. Maybe he would hear, and understand how grateful she was to him for his help during a dreadful time in her life. She thanked the storeowner for her help, and as she opened the driver’s door, a fitful breeze kicked up. For an instant—just an instant—Lara thought she heard the soft reply, “You’re welcome.”