Page 60 of Loud Unspoken Memories

“I’m good. I’m good,” she says. “We lost phone service and power. But everything is fine. I’m still not sure when the roadswill be clear enough for me to get out of here, but Asher said the airports are up and running again so he’s going to catch a flight.”

She listens for a while. I wish I could see her face. But I’m imposing too much already by listening to her private conversation.

“Oh, Anita. I’m so sorry you had to do that. I wish I could have been there with you. But I understand why you had to tell Charlie. Do you think…” She glances back at me. I rummage through a cabinet, trying to pretend like I’m not listening. “Do you think he knows he’s gone? Like forever gone?”

Her words hit me square in the chest. She’s talking about her son. And his dead father.

“Okay, put him on the phone.” She blows out a deep sigh. “Hey, buddy… Yes, it’s me… I miss you too.” Her shoulders slump. “Yes, Charlie. I know about Daddy. I’m so so sorry. You know he loved you and didn’t leave you on purpose… Oh, buddy, no, he isn’t coming back… No, he’s not in Florida.” She sniffs and I can tell she’s holding back tears. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Have you played in the snow?... A snowman? I made one too. I called him Abe. What did you name yours?” She laughs. “That’s a perfect snowman name. I can’t wait to see Frosty… Yes, buddy, I’ll make snowballs with you. I promise… Yes, Grumpy is with me. I’ll bring him too. I love you, Charlie, and I’ll see you soon. Hopefully it’ll only be a few more sleeps… Yes, put Anita back on the phone now.” She makes kissing noises, then talks to Anita again.

They discuss plans for a funeral, or not a funeral, something else. That’s when I tap out and go outside, finding it all too close to home for me to deal with. I take the coolers with me and refill them with snow.

Still not ready to go back in, I call Luther, the tow truck driver.

“Mr. Montana, how’re things lookin’ up there?”

“Cold. I ran out of propane two days ago.”

“Damn. Good thing you got plenty of wood.”

“Good thing. So where are we at this point?”

“They’re working on Route 13. It’s bad, man. Two families got trapped in their cars. One old lady expired before they could get to them.”

I think of Abe, still sitting in his cabin. “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have any idea when the snowplows will get out this way?”

“Depends on the weather. It looks promising. They say there’s less chance for snow over the next few days. But I’m not gonna lie, there’s a lot to be cleared before they get to your road. We’ve only got one plow working all of Tug Hill.One. Everything else has been commandeered to work the more populated areas.”

“Best guess?”

“If everything goes as planned, and there’s no more snow, I’d say four days.”

“Four?” I blurt, surprised.

“They say this is worse than the blizzard of ’78. But I reckon you weren’t even alive back then to remember.”

“No. No I wasn’t. Hey, you have my number. Please keep me updated if things change.”

“You got it. You ain’t runnin’ out of food, are you?”

“No.”

“And the lady? She okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll keep in touch. Don’t know what else I can do from here, but let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thanks, Luther.”

I call the local police and tell them about Abe. They pretty much tell me what I told Marti, that it isn’t a priority, but I’d done right to move him inside and keep him cold.

I spend the next few minutes answering texts from family, assuring them I’m alive and okay. I crack the front door and listen. When I don’t hear Marti’s voice, I step back in, coolers in tow.

She cranes her head around when she hears me enter. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

I scoop a large helping of dog food into Bex’s food bowl then nod to the water warming on the stove. “Coffee? Hot Chocolate? Or…”

“Wine. Lots and lots of it.”

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