Paul Curtin - Gray Snow

“See what?”

“Just come on.”

Michael didn’t let it show in his face, but he wished he could refuse. One fewer moment with Sean was one fewer moment he had to concern himself with saying something inappropriate.

It wasn’t expected though. To refuse.

Pleasantries.

THE CONCRETE STEPS under their feet may as well have been made of ice. They descended the staircase into a dark, cold cellar. The walls were a smooth gray stone, and the floor was concrete at the landing. A chill hung in the air—not as bad as outside, but enough so that he had to wrap his arms around himself.

Sean walked ahead of him into the middle of the room and pulled a cord hanging from the ceiling. The light swayed and illuminated the space with a weak, yellow glow that left most of the basement crevices shrouded in darkness. Glass jars reflected the light like thousands of glistening eyes. They filled shelves on every wall, floor to ceiling. Sean looked back at him with a grin of self-satisfaction.

While not as dirty as he had expected, the cellar seemed to Michael like a dark, serial killer nightmare. He couldn’t tell what the jars contained, but he imagined human fetuses and horse hooves.

“We got into canning since you last came up. Elise has an organic garden outside—well, not right now with the winter, obviously—but we’ve been canning, jarring, dry-packing things up just in case.”

Michael approached a shelf and picked up a jar. “Canning what?”

“You can preserve just about anything. Vegetables, meat, fruit. Some of it’s from the stores too.”

“Horse hooves?”

“I don’t know why you’d want that.”

“I’m just poking fun. Lighten up.”

Sean laughed, but it puttered out within a second.

Michael said, “So how much do you have down here?”

“Never enough.”

“But how much?”

Sean clicked on a small LED flashlight from his pocket and washed the light over the shelves. “For my family, about two-and-a-half years worth. By next year we hope to bump that number up, but we also have to make sure we use up what we have before it goes bad.”

Michael perused the shelf, picking up an item or two and setting it back down. “You planning on getting snowed in or something?”

“I’m planning for anything.”

“Anything?”

“You never know.”

“I know I’m unlikely to need two-and-a-half years worth of food.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It’s better to be prepared in my view.”

“Well, if anything happens, I’ll make sure to come to you guys first.”

Sean stared back at him but said nothing. He always had a deadly serious look on his face when he talked about his paranoid fantasies. Michael didn’t prod him. It was best to play the role of buddy at Sean’s place. Things went much smoother.

A blinking light in the corner caught his eye. “What’s that?”

“A camera. Motion-operated. Battery-powered. It can run for months without me having to touch it. Feeds to my cell via bluetooth if I want. No cell service required.”

He shook his head.

“Listen, I know how you feel,” Sean said. “About me.”

So there it was. The real reason for coming down here. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“It’ll be a long week and I want to keep things civilized.”

“Who said we wouldn’t be civilized?”

“I never said we wouldn’t. But I want to make sure we will.”

“I plan on having a pleasant week with my family. How about you?”

Sean stared at him. “You have nothing you want to say?”

He looked him straight in the face though the light was behind Sean now, his features concealed in silhouette. “There’s nothing to talk about,” Michael said.

“Sure?”

“Positive.” He put on his lawyer smile, with all the charm. Sean opened his mouth but nothing came out. Michael put his hands on his hips, sweeping his eyes up and down the shelves and then back to Sean. “Do we need something down here?”

“Chicken stock.”

Michael grabbed a can. “Right in front of me.”

He tossed it to his brother-in-law. Sean caught it and motioned for Michael to lead the way upstairs. As he went, Michael could almost feel Sean’s eyes glued to his back.

Like they were burrowing.

MOLLY WAS IN the kitchen at the top of the stairs. “Hey, Uncle Mike,” she said, hugging him.

“It’s good to see you,” he said and pulled away.

“Was my dad down there with you?” As soon as Sean emerged in the doorway, his daughter said, “Can Andrew stay for dinner?”

Sean became rigid, so Michael pressed in. “Who’s Andrew?”

“Andrew’s my—”

“Friend,” Sean said. “Her—boyfriend.”

Michael kept himself from grinning. Molly said, “Can he?”

“I don’t know, Molls. We don’t get to see your family very often.”

“Mom said it was okay.”

Sean made eye contact with his wife across the room. Michael always found it amazing what he could discover in those brief, nonverbal exchanges. The look in Sean’s eyes read that he wanted his wife’s blessing to say no, but she arched her eyebrows and tipped her head down just a grade. A short conversation. No words.

Sean turned back to his daughter with the defeated look of a man used to getting his way. “I don’t know. Your uncle and aunt have traveled a long way. I think it’d be better just to visit with them for the night.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Michael said. “I’d liked to meet him.”

Sean smiled instead of bursting with anger. “Sure. We’ll set another place at the table.”

Pleasantries were always expected.

THE KIDS SET the table while Elise showered. She cranked up the heat as high as she could bear. Her skin reddened, becoming like prunes on her fingers. She leaned her head into the pounding water and let it stream down her face and hair. She moaned. The thoughts drained out of her head as if the water were carrying them away.

A draft kicked up as the door opened, and she snapped out of her daze. The stress about dinner gathered back into her clenched muscles. Sean said, “I got the purple sweater. The one on the left side of the closet, right?”

He closed the door. The handle squeaked when she turned the water off. She threw open the curtain and shivered at the blast of cold air. Water vapor hovered like smoke. Sean stood in the corner of the bathroom, the purple sweater on a hanger in one hand and her underwear in the other. His eyes fixed on her breasts.

“Eyes up here, buddy,” she said with a grin, grabbing a towel off the rack.

“I wish we didn’t have to be downstairs so soon.”

She smirked.

He said, “You’re amazing.”

She shook her head. Her features had rounded since they had gotten married, and carrying children had left permanent marks across her abdomen, but Sean didn’t seem to notice. He looked at her the same way he had twenty years prior. “Let’s try later, okay?”

He nodded, hung the sweater on a hook, and set the underwear on top of a shelf. “Hey, about earlier.”

She stopped drying her hair.