Jenn McKinlay - Due Or Die

As if sensing his utter defeat, Heathcliff sidled up to Charlie and licked his face.

Charlie grinned. “So, who’s the new addition?”

“Lindsey’s dog,” Carrie and Nancy said together.

“No, he isn’t,” Lindsey said, feeling a sharp stab of guilt when Heathcliff looked at her. “I’m simply fostering him until I can find him a good home.”

“We call him Heathcliff,” Nancy said.

“Good name,” Charlie said, demolishing his sandwich in three bites.

“Oh, and this is Carrie Rushton,” Nancy said, obviously just remembering that Charlie and Carrie had not been introduced. “Carrie has been staying in your apartment while you’ve been gone.”

“That’s cool,” Charlie said with a shrug. He looked longingly at the tray, so Lindsey slapped together another sandwich for him.

“See? I told you he wouldn’t mind,” Nancy said to Carrie.

“Thanks for letting me stay there,” she said to Charlie.

“Sure, what happened? Did you lose your crib?”

They all stared at him until his meaning finally registered.

“Not exactly,” Carrie said. “My husband was murdered.”

She caught Charlie on an inhale and he started to choke. Lindsey thumped his back a few times and Nancy handed him a glass of milk.

“Wow, not what I expected,” he said.

“For me either,” Carrie agreed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You can stay in my place. I can bunk with Naners.”

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother,” Carrie said. “I should probably move back to my own house now anyway.”

“No, really, you can stay in my apartment,” he insisted.

“You’re a good boy,” Nancy said to him. “But I never really could get the man stink out of your place. Carrie will stay with me. That’s final.”

Lindsey turned to Carrie and said, “I hope you didn’t really think you had a say in the matter.”

Carrie gave a small smile and said, “Thank you. Thank you all.”

“Don’t be silly,” Nancy said. “We’re your friends and this is what friends do.”

Lindsey fell asleep in one recliner of Nancy’s while Charlie crashed in the other. She didn’t think she’d actually sleep, but the warmth of the fire soon lulled her into a lethargic state, and the thought of climbing two flights of stairs to her cold apartment above did not appeal. Somehow Heathcliff managed to wedge himself against her in the chair, and she was grateful for his furry warmth.

At some point in the late hours, Nancy draped a heavy comforter on top of her and another on Charlie. She and Carrie took to their beds. When they awoke in the morning, they found that the power was still out, the fire had been turned low so it was just a flicker of blue flame and it was still snowing.

Lindsey brought a portable radio down from her apartment and put fresh batteries in it. She dialed into the local New Haven news station to get the weather. It had been snowing for twenty hours with no sign of stopping. The gale-force winds had diminished, but it was still blustery outside. Along the shoreline, over twenty thousand people were without power.

Knowing that they may not get power back anytime soon, Charlie went up to his apartment and dug out his propane cookstove from his camping gear. They set it on the kitchen counter, opening the window behind it to let out any fumes it gave off.

Charlie then whipped up some coffee and scrambled eggs. Lindsey didn’t know if it was the bone-chilling cold or the fact that a hot meal had seemed impossible, but she was sure these were the best eggs she’d ever eaten.

Feeling better with some food in her belly, she ran up to her apartment to change her clothes and get her cell phone. She had left it charging last night before the power went out. She had enough of a charge to check in with all of her staff today. She called each one, letting them know that they would not be opening the library.

The only one who didn’t answer was Beth. Lindsey tried not to get anxious, but Beth lived alone in a small beach house close to the shore. If the waves had gotten high, she could be in trouble.

She paced Nancy’s living room, debating what to do.

“Well, how about I teach you how to crochet, Carrie?” Nancy offered. “You’re not going to be able to go home for a while, so you may as well keep your mind and your fingers busy.”

“All right,” Carrie said. She looked relieved to have something to do. Lindsey was about to go retrieve her own crochet project when the sound of a motor broke through the quiet morning. They all hurried to the window to see a snowmobile zip across the snow-buried yard.

BRIAR CREEK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

It only took Lindsey a second to recognize the hot pink ski suit. She had been skiing with that snowsuit before, and it served as an excellent visual marker against the relentless white of the slopes.

“It’s Beth,” she announced. She expelled a huge sigh of relief and hurried to the front door to let her friend in.

“Excellent,” Nancy said. “I hope she has news.”

Beth came in on a blast of arctic air. It took both her and Lindsey to shut the door against the incoming wind.

As Beth unwrapped her head, she took the cup of coffee Charlie offered with a grateful smile. “Hot coffee? It’s a miracle!”

“Where have you been? Why haven’t you answered your phone? Is your place okay? Where did you get that ride?” Lindsey peppered her with questions.

Beth held up her hand and took a long sip of the hot java. “Okay, I think I can feel my feet again. Let’s see, to start with, I’ve been mostly at home, but I just took a quick tour of town, the battery on my phone is dead, my house is fine, so far, and the snowmobile is my neighbor’s, but he’s too old to ride it so he lent it to me.”

“Is it totally fun?” Charlie asked.

“Totally,” she assured him. They pounded knuckles and Lindsey rolled her eyes. There were times she was pretty sure Beth was a twelve-year-old boy trapped in a thirty-two-year-old woman’s body.

“So, tell us,” Nancy said as she pulled Beth into her apartment and pushed her into a chair by the fire. “What’s it look like out there?”

Beth sobered immediately. “It’s bad. The drifts are already six feet high and getting higher. You can’t even tell what’s buried under them. The waves crested with the high tide, and Jeanette Palmer’s Beachfront Bed and Breakfast took a pounding. I think the only thing that saved her from losing her back porch to the sea was Ian Murphy and Sully spent most of last night hauling in sandbags from the highway department.”

“Is Jeanette okay?” Nancy asked.

“She’s fine,” Beth said. “The B and B was open today for business, and she was out sweeping her front steps when I stopped to check on her. She says this storm is nothing compared to the ones in ’52 and ’78.”

“It’s not over yet,” Nancy said, looking out the large bay window where the snow continued to fall.

“Which reminds me,” Charlie said. “I’m going to get out there and start shoveling before it gets too deep.”

“I’ll just call a snow plow,” Nancy said. “You don’t have to go out in this.”

Beth shook her head. “There isn’t a plow available. They’ve all been called out to do the roads. They’re hoping to get them at least partially dug out before the second half of the blizzard hits.”

“Is the library okay?” Lindsey asked.

Beth smiled at her. “That’s the first place I checked. The drifts are halfway up to the front door, but otherwise the building looks fine.”

Lindsey felt her shoulders lower in relief. She hadn’t realized she was so worried until Beth assured her that all was well.