Shelter from the Storm

"Really? Small world. Do you live there?"

"Right now. I'm a grad student at Ohio State."

"You, too? I'm a grad student - or rather I was - east of here."

Jim had finished drying his face and hair and handed the towel back to Lisa who quickly took it back into the bathroom. When she returned he had his jacket and the hooded sweatshirt off and she took them to hang in a small closet. They moved over to a couch in front of the stone fireplace, cold and inert at the moment, and sat. Jim could feel the blood returning to sweep away the heavy chill he had acquired on the walk from the car. Two hundred yards! He had often walked many times that far in weather thirty degrees colder when he lived in northern Michigan. But then he was also dressed in a parka, thick socks, and insulated gloves. Besides, at those temperatures the snow was dry.

"Was a grad student?"

"Well, technically I still am." Then Jim found himself telling this total stranger about the events which had led him on his journey. "So, I'm taking the semester off to work at the firm up in Columbus. At least until the storm at school blows over. But I'm not real sure it will ever blow over enough to let me go back there. I guess I'll just have to wait and see."

While he spoke she listened quietly, a sympathetic look on her face, while she studied the man. He was three or four inches taller than her own five foot seven. His dark brown hair was mussed where he had dried it with the towel but looked like it would be thick and soft when fully dry. She guessed he was about her own age and looked like he took care of himself. No extra fat and, as he had used the towel, she had noticed the ripple of well toned muscles. And his eyes... Green with small gold flecks that gave his intelligent looking face the look of empathy.

When he had finished talking, she couldn't think of anything to say. Instead she changed the subject. "I expect you're probably a bit hungry now." He had mentioned that he had missed lunch. "I was just getting ready to fix supper. Just a hamburger dish."

"That sounds wonderful! Can I help with anything?"

She got up and showed him where the dishes and tableware were. There was a small table at the side of the kitchen and Jim set two places as Lisa browned the meat and stirred in the box of seasonings and noodles. She added the tomato sauce and some water, all the while continuing to talk casually.

"Oh, there's some rye bread and butter, if you'd like." She pointed to show him where the bread was. "I'm afraid I don't have any coffee. I drink tea."

"Tea will be fine. I don't really drink coffee myself."

"Really? Sometimes I think I'm the only one."

"Well, I drank it my first two years at school. You know, everyone did. But one day at the beginning of junior year I suddenly realized that I didn't like it at all. Haven't drunk any since then."

Lisa laughed. "Well, I never did care for it, but I'm happy to meet another convert. Would you like tea with the meal or, I guess, water? I don't think I have much else around here."

"Water will be fine. Maybe some tea afterwards." She pointed out the glasses and said there was ice in the freezer part of the refrigerator. Jim filled a pair of glasses and placed them on the table.

With the table set, Jim stopped to watch Lisa finish the cooking. She was really a very pretty girl, he decided. Maybe not beautiful in the classic sense, but more of a fresh faced girl next door look. Dark blonde hair, worn down, falling just onto her shoulders. Blue eyes. Not a dark indigo, but a lovely medium blue. She obviously took care of herself. She was slim but not skinny. Her muscles were firm and well developed but not bulging as a workout fanatic's might be. And her legs and ass... Jim had to pull his eyes away before she noticed him. He would guess she liked a lot of outdoor activities, but whatever she did kept her figure in fine shape.

The only slightly sour note he saw was that she seemed to be under some pressure or strain, as though she had had a lot on her mind. He casually asked, "If you're a grad student, what brings you down here in the middle of the semester?"

She seemed to freeze for just a second. Then, as though she had made up her mind to explain, she began to tell him about her father and mother and the last year. She actually seemed a little relieved to be talking about it, but when she stopped Jim said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything unpleasant."

She turned and smiled at him. "That's all right. Really, I don't mind. In fact it feels good to let a little of it out. Oh, I hope it doesn't feel like I'm putting any kind of load on you. I just haven't been able to talk much with anyone about it."

He gave a short laugh. "I certainly don't mind. And, anyway, after I unloaded my problems on you earlier it seems only fair."

She smiled at him again. "Great! Let's make a pact. We can dump our problems on each other and neither of us has to take it seriously enough to be bothered."

His laugh answered her teasing. "Agreed."

"Agreed," she responded. Then added, "Besides, if this storm keeps up we may have enough mutual problems to keep both of us busy."

When the meal was ready she brought the skillet over and spooned some on each of their plates. After she had placed the pan back on the stove and returned, Jim surprised her by holding her chair as she sat.

She turned and smiled at him, surprised. "A real gentleman. Thank you." Her tone made it clear she was not making fun in the least but appreciated the gesture.

They talked some more while eating, but nothing too serious. Just finding out a little more about each other. About halfway through the lights flickered for a fraction of a second. Both glanced up but when everything returned to normal they continued eating.

Just as they were finishing, the lights flickered again and then a third time a few seconds later. Lisa set her plate on the counter by the sink. She reached for the water to rinse the dishes and then suddenly stopped. She looked around towards Jim. "You know, I'd forgotten, but if we lose power we also lose water. The pump won't work. When we lived here we always kept a couple of jugs ready. We should probably see about that just in case the power does go down."

She led them over to a storage pantry off the kitchen and looked inside. Below a set of shelves there were four blue, five gallon plastic cans and four more smaller ones. She picked up one and shook it. "Still full, but I'll bet this has been here for at least a year or more. We should probably dump them and fill them with fresh."

She picked up two of the smaller jugs and Jim grabbed two of the five gallon ones and followed her into the bathroom. She dumped out the first but just as he was starting to empty the first of the five gallon cans the lights flickered again. "Better only empty one at a time in case the power fails before we get them all filled." He nodded in agreement and put the can back down.

Over the next ten minutes they managed to empty and refill all the containers. The power remained steady but Lisa still looked relieved when the task was finished. "OK, now we should be alright if we do lose the electricity."

"I see the stove is gas and I suppose the furnace is also?" Jim looked at her questioningly.

"Well yes, both are LP. The stove will work alright, but the furnace needs electricity to function. But don't worry. We can always build a nice fire in the fireplace. There's at least half a cord of wood out back. Speaking of which, maybe we should bring some more inside." There was a small pile by the fireplace, but not enough for more than a couple of hours.

"OK, tell me where and I'll go out and get it."

"Come on, it will be easier if I show you and we both carry some inside." With that she went to the closet and handed him his jacket and also picking up one of her own. Hers had a hood attached but she looked at his sweatshirt and then his own hoodless jacket. Reaching back into the closet, she pulled out a knit hat and handed it to him. "No use getting that nice hair all wet again."

"Thanks. I'm sure I can manage. After all, I'm from northern Michigan. You know, where summer falls on an afternoon in late July."

She laughed and led the way to the door. As they stepped outside Jim saw that the storm had changed its nature somewhat. It was still blowing as hard as ever but now there was only a little snow in the form of small, hard bits, mixed with a lot of sleet and ice granules. From behind him Lisa exclaimed, "It's turned into an ice storm! We had definitely better get some wood inside."

He stepped down and nearly lost his footing. The ground, the rail by the steps and the nearby bushes were all coated with a slick layer of ice. "He called back, "Watch out. It's really slick." Her acknowledgment was lost in the driving wind.

She passed him and led the way around the side of the house to where a small shed, covered on three sides, held cut and split firewood. They each picked up an armload and carefully made their way back inside. Lisa indicated a place near the fireplace and they stacked the logs. Then she turned to him and asked, "Do they have ice storms in Michigan?"

"Not that I know of. At least not in the northern part. I have heard of ice storms but I've never experienced one."

"You haven't missed much. We get one here every few years. Not more often, thank goodness. By tomorrow morning there may be half an inch or more of ice on every branch of every tree. We can lose a lot of branches and, yes, a lot of trees from one. You'll also find a lot of trees - particularly cedars - that will stay bent over and distorted for up to ten years afterwards. Also, it certainly isn't uncommon to lose power from one and it can take several days to get it back."

He looked at the wood they had just brought in. "Maybe we should bring in some more?" he asked.

"Probably a good idea." They made two more trips and finally had a sizeable pile if it were to be needed."

When the jackets were hung back in the closet, Lisa said, "We probably ought to get out some candles and flashlights or something, just in case." She led the way back into what had been her parents' bedroom and opened a large closet. Jim could see there were only a few items of clothing inside. He supposed that most of it had gone to Columbus with her parents when they went because of her father's sickness. But there were still a number of items stored on the shelves and beneath the rods for hanging clothes. Lisa pulled out a kerosene lamp and a can of oil and handed it to him. She pulled a box down from the shelf and extracted a half dozen candles which she also handed over. Jim turned and took these back into the living area, setting them on a coffee table, before returning.

Lisa was just emerging with an old fashioned, glass chimney candle lantern. She turned and said, "There's another one of these on the top shelf there. Can you get it, please?"

"Sure". He leaned into the closet and retrieved the lantern. As he started to step back, he saw something standing in the corner. He reached in and pulled out a guitar. He turned towards the girl and held the instrument up. "Is this yours? Do you play?"

For several seconds Lisa just stared at the instrument. Then she shook her head. "No, on both counts. It belonged to my dad and he used to play." Then she looked up at him. "Do you play?"

"Some. I used to play a lot of folk and stuff when I was in high school. Haven't done too much of it lately though."

He started to put it back when Lisa suddenly said, "Bring it out. If we lose power the stereo won't work, so you can entertain us," she teased. There had been quiet music playing since he had arrived. Since he often had music playing himself, he hadn't really thought anything about it.

He looked at her. "You wouldn't mind if I did play it? I mean, it was your dad's and I wouldn't want to bring up any unpleasant memories."

She smiled and shook her head back and forth. "No, I used to love it when he played and sang for us but that's past." Then almost to herself she said, "I need to lay these restless ghosts." She looked up at him and smiled wider. "No, bring it along."

They returned to the living area and placed the lamp and guitar out of the way. "Well, while we've still got hot water, I guess I'd better do the dishes."

"I'll be happy to do them."

"No, I will, but you can dry." She moved into the kitchen and in only a few minutes the few dishes were washed, dried and put away. While they were working the lights flickered off and on a couple of times. Once they were dark for six or seven seconds, but mostly it was just a quick flicker.

Lisa pulled a kettle from a cabinet and put some water on to boil. "I'm making some tea. Want some?" she asked.

"Thank you, that would be nice."

She reached up and pulled a teapot from a cabinet. Jim was watching her and as she stretched to reach the high shelf, he was suddenly taken with the view of her firm figure against her clothing as she stretched. He shook his head. He certainly wasn't planning on making a pass at her but she was definitely a nice looking girl.

The lights flickered once again. In another minute the water was boiling and Lisa added it to the teapot along with a couple of tea bags. As she set the kettle back on the stove, the lights once more went off and this time remained off.

For a full minute neither of them moved, waiting to see if the power would return again. When it didn't come back on Lisa sighed and said, "Well, I'm not surprised with all that ice." She reached over to the kitchen counter where she had placed a flashlight, picked it up and the beam sprang to life. Placing the teapot on the counter, she said, "Come on. I guess we'd better get some candles going."

Jim followed her back into the living room. She picked up a box of matches from the mantle over the fireplace and handed them to him. He moved over to the coffee table and first lit the oil lamp. Lisa had picked up one of the candle lanterns with the glass chimney. She removed the glass and held it out for Jim to light, replacing the chimney when it was going. She moved over and set it on the mantle. "I suppose we should probably get a fire going, too."

Jim immediately moved to the fireplace. Growing up in northern Michigan he was no stranger to building fires and shortly had a nice blaze started. Lisa had brought the teapot and two mugs in and set them on an end table at one end of the small couch facing the big fireplace. "Do you want sugar or anything?"

"No, thanks. I usually just drink it straight."

Filling a mug, she handed it to him and replied, "All right. Tea, black."

He laughed. "Coffee may be black. I guess this is tea, brown."

She laughed also. "Actually, it's tea, green."

They sat on the couch facing the fire and for several minutes were silent, just sipping the tea and watching the flames. The stereo had, of course, died when the power went off and the only sound was the occasional cracks and pops from the fire and the storming wind and sleet outside. Lisa suddenly shook herself. The quiet ghosts were once again trying to get to her.

"Well, the electricity did go off, so I guess you now get to play and sing for us."

Jim laughed. "Isn't it bad enough we're trapped here in the storm without inflicting that on us?"

Lisa smiled. "I doubt it would be in infliction. Seriously, I would like to hear you play. Singing is optional."

"If you really would, I'll try. But remember it's been a few years since I've done much of this." He set his cup aside and stood to pick up the instrument before returning to the couch. "What would you like to hear? I'm afraid most of what I know is just folk music."

"That would be wonderful! I love folk. That's mostly what my father played."

Jim touched the strings and made a slight face. He found some picks in a small bag tied to the neck of the instrument and took one. He applied it to one string and adjusted the tension until he thought it sounded right. Then he proceeded to use the beat notes to adjust the remaining strings and when he was satisfied ,struck a couple of chords. He closed his eyes in thought for a few seconds and then began to strike a few new chords. Lisa immediately recognized "Barbara Allen" and smiled. Her father had often played that himself. Jim strummed a few bars and then, in a quiet but firm voice, began to sing the words. Lisa sat'nearby, entranced. He had a great singing voice. Not quite a bass, but deep and resonant.

When the last chords died Lisa exclaimed, "That was wonderful!" Then she teased, "Now if you just knew some real authentic regional folk for this part of the world... But, of course, they wouldn't have those in northern Michigan."

He looked over at her. "Want to bet?"

"You're bluffing. All right, it's a bet. What are the stakes?"

He smiled at her. "We'll just leave that open at the moment."

He closed his eyes for a few seconds and struck a few chords. Then he started to play and sing.

In the hills of Eastern Kentucky

In the houses by the mine

A father sought his daughter

With news to trouble her mind

"Oh, Daughter, my dear daughter,

I fear my words unkind

But I have heard that your promised one

Is lost in the mountain pines

He left the mine for Greenwood

To buy ribbons for your hair

He crossed the pine topped mountain

But never arrived he there"

As soon as the song had started, Lisa had frozen. This was not going to lay any restless ghost but she reveled in the sound of the chords and words. As Jim started the chords for the next verse, she suddenly opened her mouth and began

"Oh, Father, my dear father

I will not believe him lost

Perhaps he's sheltered in a house

And not tried to continue across"

As soon as she had begun, Jim stopped singing and just played the music. Then, when the next verse came, he again sang

"Oh, Daughter, my dear daughter

Alas this can not be

There is no house along the way

Nothing save the tall pine trees"

At the next one Lisa once more took up the song.

"Then Father, oh my father

I will not stay and pine

I will seek him on the mountain top

Among the mountain pines"

Then she remained silent, entranced, as Jim finished.

She gathered her boots and mittens

With nary a single word more

And wrapping her cloak about her

Hurried on out the door

She set right out and up the hill

Into the storm's raging teeth

She followed the trail to seek her love

And try to bring him relief

She came upon her loved one

Nearly frozen to death in the storm

She wrapped them both in her traveling cloak

And through the night kept warm

In the morning the storm was ended

And the sun began to shine

She came down the hill with her lover

Safe from the mountain pines

Finally, as the last haunting chords died away, she breathlessly asked, "Wherever did you learn that? My dad used to play that all the time and I loved it! I thought it was just a local ballad."

"It probably is. I didn't mention that I had a thing for Appalachian Folk music. Actually, I don't remember just where I learned that one, but I found them in a lot of different places." Then he suddenly realized that the song might have brought back some unpleasant memories. "I hope I didn't hurt you by making you remember things."

She smiled at him and shook her head, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "No, it did bring back memories, but good ones. I loved hearing it once more."

He let out his breath. "I'm glad. I don't mean to make anything harder for you."

"You didn't. I loved it."

They continued to sit in front of the fire. Occasionally he would play some more and one or the other or both of them would sing. Lisa had a very good voice also, perfect for folk. They found he knew a few of her other favorites, but nothing brought the response "Mountain Pines" had. It had been simply chance that he had played it, but something in that song touched Lisa deep in her soul. She had him play it again and this time she joined in with him for the last four verses.