Read The Winter People Online

Authors: Bret Tallent

The Winter People (24 page)

Gary
stumbled down the alley eagerly.  After a few moments of searching, he found
the hole, it had gone clean through.  Awesome!  The thing was awesome.  It had
gone clear through one side and maybe even the other.  Gary looked around at
the dumpster and decided he wasn't going to find out if it had today.  The
entire back side of the dumpster was set in the side of another huge drift like
the one at the other end of the alley.  In fact, as he turned and looked, he
realized that he was in a sort of trench, formed by snow.

He
walked back to the door and tried it, locked.  "Damn!” he said aloud.  He
tried it again but it was still locked.  He looked at the window, but it had a
steel mesh over it.  "Like there's anything in there worth stealing.” he
mumbled to himself.  "Damn.", he said again, then kicked the coal
chute cover.  He looked down at it then turned and looked around the alley. 
There was no way he was climbing out, that was for sure.  So he looked back
down at the chute with a look in his eyes.  The same look he'd gotten when he
saw a crossbow in a weapons book he'd read once.

The
cover had two doors that met in the center and were held together with a lock.
Gary thought for a moment.  There was no way he was going to break that lock. 
But the doors were wood and he might be able to pry the latch off of them.  So
Gary looked at what he had.  The snowshoes wouldn't work, not strong enough. 
Neither were the cross-bow bolts.  The cross-bow itself might work, but it was
awkward and the bow string might get in the way.  But he had nothing else.

So
Gary worked and wiggled and worked some more until he had one end of the bow
slid in beneath the lock.  He twisted it up so that he had some leverage with
the stock, and prepared himself.  He gripped the stock tightly and rocked, one,
two, and three... and shoved forward with all of his might.  The latch ripped
out of the rotting wood and Gary flew face first into the doors, catching his
lip on the butt of his bow.

"Fuck! 
Son of a bitch!  You mutha...” he cursed out.  Already he could feel his lip
thickening, and taste the warm blood in his mouth.  He reached down and grabbed
a handful of snow and shoved it up to his mouth.  It stung for a moment then
eased away the pain.  Gary threw the reddened snow down and spit a couple of
times.  "Some day.” he thought, not amused.

His
belongings gathered up, Gary opened up the doors to the chute and peered
inside.  It was a big black hole.  Even though he'd been wearing his
sunglasses, the brightness of the snow had dimmed his vision and all he could
see was a big black hole.  So Gary eased the snowshoes in and probed with
them.  There seemed to be a slide or ramp there, so he let them go.

Then
he let the bow go and there were no loud crashes, so he assumed the ramp was
intact.  Gary eased himself over the side and let his feet dangle.  They rested
on the ramp surface and he kicked it several times.  It seemed sturdy enough,
and Gary was in no position to argue.  He eased his butt down onto the slide,
holding onto the doors for support.

"What
the hell?” he muttered, and let go.  He slid down on his back side and came to
an abrupt stop on a pile of musty, dusty newspapers, one snowshoe digging into
his thigh.  Above him the doors slammed shut and blocked out most of the light
from this dismal little cave.  Gary sneezed once from the dust then coughed.

He
pulled off his glasses and squinted as he peered around the room.  As his eyes
slowly adjusted, he could make out only shapes and forms and shadows.  He
trembled then, it was spooky.  Then an eerie feeling came over him.  It was a
feeling that something evil was closing in on him.  That something very bad was
very near, and getting nearer.  He trembled again.  Then the feeling subsided
and was eventually gone altogether.  Gary sighed and shook his head.  Then he
set about exploring this cave.

Above
Gary, a shadow passed over the coal chute doors.  It moved quickly by and was
gone.  Had Gary seen it, he might have screamed out for help.  He might have.

 

***

Sarah
sat before the huge cold hearth in a daze.  The Mineshaft had been empty but
what she had found was far worse than she was prepared for.  Blood, there was
so much blood.  It was everywhere, even splattered on the high ceilings in some
rooms.  It was on the walls and the floor, smeared here and pooled there.  Bed
linens had been shredded and soaked in it.  The feathers from pillows were
stuck in it and frozen there.

Sarah's
mind started reeling and she couldn't get the awful color out of her head. She
leaned over then and vomited for the third time, only this time there was
nothing left to come up.  Her insides were twisting around in knots and her
mouth tasted like bile, but her stomach was empty.  She sat back down on the
splintered remains of a sofa and hugged herself, rocking back and forth, a
vacant expression on her face.

Absent
mindedly she thrust her gloved hands into the pockets of her ski coat and
rested her chin on her knees.  She sat there staring off into space, past where
her goggles lie on the floor, past the darkened fireplace.  Sarah began
thinking of a place far from where she was.  A different time and how she
wished she was there, a warm place where the sun could find her face. She found
a place in her mind where she was in control.

 

***

Sarah
adjusted her bikini slightly, its neon green a stark contrast to her tanned
skin.  Part of her chest and tops of her shoulders were freckled slightly but
the rest of her skin was unblemished.  She finished adjusting the creeping
garment then reached down beside the lounge and fumbled for her Mojito without
looking.  Finding it, she brought it up and finished it in several swallows. 
Its fruity flavor filled her mouth, the bubbles tickling her nose lightly.

She
sat the empty glass down with a hollow clink then rested her arms back at her
sides to maximize the sun striking her.  Off to her right she could hear laughter
and splashing from the pool, but she closed her eyes and ignored it.  The sun
was warm and it made her sleepy but she relished in it.  Sarah spent every
spare moment by the pool, working on her tan.  She even came home at lunch to
catch what rays she could.  Of course, working only a half mile from her
apartment helped.

Sarah
loved the sun.  It was warm and comforting, and full of life.  And those people
who never saw any, who were pale and wan, all looked sickly to Sarah.  She was
one of those that equated the golden tan to health, no matter what the doctors
said.  Skin cancer this and melanoma that, hell, if you listened to all those
doctors, you wouldn't do anything----and even if it was all true, she loved the
sun anyway.  Beneath her Ray-Bans she opened her eyes momentarily to make sure
it was still there, and then closed them again quickly.

To
her left, Sarah heard the fart, sputter, pop of suntan lotion being squeezed
from a bottle.  Lazily, she rolled her head to look and saw Danny staring at a
handful of white glop.  Sarah smiled and Danny looked up just then to catch her
doing so.  He shrugged his shoulders and started rubbing it on his arms and
hairless chest.

"So
sue me.  I'm Mister Whitey and I don't want to burn.” he defended.

"No,”
Sarah replied, "you just look like one of those tourists from New
Jersey."

"Oh,
you mean the ones who wear brown socks with their sandals?"

"That's
them."

"That's
cold."

"That's
life."

They
grinned at each other sheepishly then laid back and enjoyed the day.  It was a
typical New Mexico summer day.  The sky was a rich blue mottled here and there
by a few wandering clouds, a brilliant white against the sharp backdrop.  The
Sandia Mountains rose abruptly to the east, a great granite wall separating
Albuquerque from that part of the world.  A mild breeze meandered down from
those rugged peaks and cooled the city below.  And even though it was in the
nineties, it was comfortable.

Soon
their shadows were long and Sarah could feel the cool of the high desert night
beginning to creep in.  She sat up and began to collect her things when she
caught the scent of someone barbecuing.  Her stomach growled in reply. 
"Hey", she said to Danny, "do you wanna grill some steaks?"

Danny
sat up and nodded, "That'd be great, I'm starved.  You ran me ragged
today, Old Town, the Tram, forcing me to lay out here and relax like this.  You
should be ashamed.” he scolded.

"Oh,
I am, I am   c'mon, let's go."  Sarah was up with her towel and empty
bottles in hand moving towards the gate to the pool area.  Behind her she could
hear Danny gathering his things as well.  She climbed the stairs to her
apartment and had her jeans pulled up over her bikini before Danny made it
through the door.  She was just throwing on an old shirt as Danny entered.

"That
was fast!” he exclaimed upon entering.  "Are you a professional, or is
this just a hobby?"

"Years
of shopping.” she stated truthfully.  Danny moved past her and into the
bathroom to change.  He could hear cabinet doors slamming and dishes rattling
in the room beyond.  He thought about her.  Boy was she beautiful.  He'd had
the biggest crush on her in high school, and seven years later he felt it all
over again.  He was so glad he had taken the time to track her down yesterday.

"Hey! 
Did you fall in!?"

"Huh? 
Oh, no.  I'm just getting respectable.” he yelled back.

"It
would take a lot more than what I have in the bathroom to make you
respectable."

Danny
smiled.  It was amazing how comfortable they felt around each other, but he
realized that it was Sarah that was the catalyst.  She set the rules for the
relationship, she set the tone.  She decided on the boundaries and the penalty
lines, and Danny liked that about her as well.  As he tucked in his shirt, he
wished he'd kept in touch with her all along.  Maybe things would have been
different.

Maybe
his and her lives would have worked out entirely different.  Danny chided
himself; he was acting like a lovelorn post-pubescent zit marker.  They were
adults now, and engaging in a reunion, that was all.  He certainly didn't want
to ruin anything they had achieved by overreacting.  He finished dressing and
sauntered into the kitchen where Sarah had a couple of steaks thawing in the
microwave.  Danny crept up behind her and startled her.

"Oh
shit!” she jumped.  Turning to swat him with the towel she was holding,
"You ass!"  Then she pushed him away, "Go and fire up the grill,
before any one else beats you to it."  Sarah didn't wait for a reply; she
turned and began retrieving vegetables from the refrigerator.  Again she kept
in control of the situation.  She had read it on his face several times today
and skirted it well.  Danny wanted to be close to her, a lot closer than she
was ready for, or wanted.

Sarah
had been very cautious towards men after the divorce and it was a year later
before she actually dated.  She was somewhat gun shy that was true, but more
than that, she was trying to get her life in order.  Trying to get it under
control and the fact was Danny was just an old friend from her past.

But,
in seeing him again, it was like an old part of herself that she had lost had
been returned.  Like a piece that was missing was there again and made her
whole. Memories and people she had forgotten were fresh again.  It was a nice
little vacation she decided, but that was all it was.  She had her life going a
certain direction now and didn't want to risk a detour, as pleasant and
charming as it might seem.

So
they had their dinner and talked well into the night, it was a nice visit. 
Finally, Danny said his farewells and left Sarah alone; he had to catch a
flight back to Denver the next morning.  Sarah was really glad he had looked
her up though, and she wondered briefly about other people she had gone to
school with.  Then, several days later she received an email from Danny. It
made her smile, and then it made her cry.  It made her think about her life.

My Dearest
Sarah,

Seeing you
stirred many old feelings which I thought were abandoned years ago. Feelings
and memories not only of you, but of the many other old friends which I have
neglected to communicate with over the years.  I can safely say that I feel a
sense of profound loss for not pursuing the question, "What ever happened
to?"

It seems
peculiar how someone views his/her progress over time, in relation to the triumphs
or failures of past friends and your expectations of them.  However, when you
are reunited, these issues become irrelevant.  Sharing the moment and the
spirit of the person far exceeds any imagined expectations.  Perhaps this is
the purist meaning of the word "friend".  But I believe the most
important aspect of our meeting was being able to be spontaneous and responsive
in a non-intrusive or calculating manner, a quality that I had misplaced years
ago.

I feel sorry
for the tragedies that have happened to you over the last several years, but it
seems that you have done well.  However, I cannot help but sense that somewhere
in your life there is a great deal of pain.  Perhaps I'm wrong, but I would
like to extend this offer to you, since you helped me realize some things about
myself.  When ever you feel you need a friend to talk to, think of me first.

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