The Lonely Living

by McMurray, Sean

  “Umm…What should I do with these?” She asked.

  I stared blankly at her for a second before responding, “I can wash them if you want me to?”

  “Umm…I was thinking I would throw them away.”

  “Oh! Here, I’ll take care of them. I have a burn barrel out back.” I walked over and grabbed the dirty clothes from her. I took them outside and tossed them in the burn barrel just off the back porch. When I returned from outside, the young woman was toying with a record player in the corner of the living room. “Do you want me to turn it on?” I asked.

  She shook her head.

  “I guess I’m glad you said no, because I’m not sure I know how to turn it on.” I admitted almost shamefully. “I was just trying to impress you.”

  She smiled and I actually felt warmer.

  “My father used it sometimes. I think it came with the house.”

  “Your father is John Winters.” She said. “His senior picture still hangs next to the gym doors back at school next to his football jersey. You look like him.”

  Hearing his name angered me and I blurted out, “That’s where the similarities end.”

  There was an awkward pause before she realized she struck a nerve and changed the subject. “I saw that you have some pop, do you mind?

  “Yes, I mean, no I don’t mind.” I answered. “It’s kind of flat though.”

  “Thanks.” She turned and walked away.

  At that moment, I realized I still didn’t know her name and as if she was reading my mind she stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and said, “My name is Samantha, but you can call me Sam.”

  “Ok.” I responded.

  Sam went into the kitchen and I went upstairs to take a shower. I didn’t get to take hot showers very often, so I didn’t take that one for granted. I stood under the steady stream of warm water for a long time. I wondered if I had come off as a jerk when Sam brought up my father and I decided that I had and that I would apologize when I got a chance. Mostly, I pondered the future. I’d found another survivor and brought her to my home, but what happens now? What if she doesn’t like me or like living here and wants to leave? I determined then that if that was the case I would let her leave. However, I hoped very much that it wouldn’t be.

  When I had finished my shower and changed, I went downstairs. Sam was next to the fireplace with her back to me. As I reached the bottom of the steps, she heard me and glanced over her shoulder. She quickly wrapped up whatever she was doing and hastily slipped something into the pocket of her sweats.

  “Are you ok?” I asked.

  She swiftly turned around, “I’m fine.” She lifted her hand to her face and tucked a rogue strand of hair behind her right ear. “Really, I’m fine.”

  My eyes narrowed on her pocket, but she nonchalantly blocked my view with her left hand,. “Actually Blake, there is something I want to tell you.”

  I took an apprehensive step forward. “Yes.”

  “Umm…” She paused then said quickly, “I’m sorry I brought up your father.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I answered. “I’m sorry I was jerk.”

  “I really wouldn’t call that being a jerk.”

  “What would you call it then?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but it really doesn’t matter.”

  “Well,” I said agreeably, “whatever it was, I apologize.”

  She smiled. “Apology accepted.”

  I changed the subject. “Is there anything you need to do before I turn off the electricity?”

  She flashed disappointment.

  “I’ll turn it on again. I promise. I just don’t have enough fuel to keep it going all the time.”

  Sam replied resignedly, “I understand.” She paused. “It felt almost normal you know.”

  “It always does.”

  With those words, I lit some candles and then went outside and turned off the generator. The house darkened dramatically and all was quiet again. As I stared out across the island and over the frozen lake, for some reason, the dark didn’t seem as dark anymore.

  11

  When I got inside, Sam was sitting on the couch with her feet curled up underneath her, watching the fire flicker and pop.

  “Are you warm enough?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Good.” I said as I sat down into my chair.

  There was quiet for a few moments as Sam and I allowed ourselves to be hypnotized by the flickering flames of the fire. Eventually Sam broke the silence.

  “So, what do you do to keep busy around here?”

  “There’s lot to do actually.” I answered. “It’s mostly work. It’s not very fun, but it’s something to do. When I’m done with my chores I usually sit right here in my chair by the fire. Boring huh?”

  “Doesn’t sound too bad.” She said. “Back at the school, I actually would do homework, just to pass the time.”

  “Really?”

  Sam leaned forward. “Yeah. Algebra, Social Studies, Grammar. I even learned some Spanish.”

  “I don’t care how bored I got,” I offered jokingly, “homework would be last on my list of things to do.”

  She laughed me off then said solemnly, “It just felt normal.”

  My stomach churned with a bit of guilt, and after a moment of quiet I asked, “How long were you at the school?”

  “Since the beginning.” She looked deep into the fire. “I was there with my mother the night it happened. She worked third shift and sometimes I would go with her to work and…” She trailed off.

  “What did your mom do?” I asked.

  At that moment tears formed in Sam’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” I offered. “I didn’t mean—”

  She waved it off. “It’s ok.” She paused and collected herself. “It was just me and my Mom pretty much my whole life. She was a janitor at the high school ever since I could remember. When I was younger I loved to come help her work, but as I got older that changed.” She dropped her head and peered back into the fire. “I was embarrassed by the fact that my mom was a janitor. I even told my friends that my Mom wasn’t home at night because she had to work late at the office. Eventually I stopped going with her all together. I was only there that night because it was her birthday and she guilted me into it.”

  The tears were running down her face now. I wanted to reach out and touch her on the shoulder and tell her it was alright, but I felt so helpless. Eventually she began to calm down.

  I asked sorrowfully as I handed her a paper towel, “She was the woman I found you with wasn’t she?”

  She took the paper towel, wiped her eyes and nodded. “She was sick for a while before they got in and when we were trapped in that room, she refused to eat or drink anything so that I would have enough.”

  I leaned forward. “Enough for what?”

  “Enough to get me through until you found me.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to her comment. She acted as if she knew I would come. After a brief silence I said, “What do you think of the house?”

  She smiled like she appreciated the change in conversation. “It’s nice, my Mom would have loved a place like this.” She paused. “I do have one question though. What’s the deal with all the eagles?”

  She was referring to the eagles elegantly carved into the banister and the portrait hanging over the fireplace that depicted one of the giant birds soaring high above a rugged mountain range.

  “I have a thing for Eagles.” I answered.

  She looked at me strangely.

  “What?” I said defensively, “They’re majestic creatures.”

  She tried to keep a straight face. “Ok…”

  I smiled coyly. “I’m just playing. It’s because of the island.”

  “The island?”

  “The one were on. It’s named Little Eagle’s Island.” I answered.

  Sam looked at the portrait of the eagle. “Why Little Eagle?”

  “It’s a kind of cool st
ory actually.” I shifted in my seat. “My dad…well I heard it when I was a kid and we first got this place.”

  “Well?” She folded her arms. “You gonna tell me the story?”

  I glanced at the portrait then my eyes returned to her. “I don’t know if it’s true or anything, so don’t hold me to it.”

  Sam nodded. “Okay.”

  “Supposedly Little Eagle is the name of an Indian boy. He was the son of the Chief and when he was young, he and his father were on a hunting trip when a heavy snow began to fall. It was dark and windy and the Chief decided it was too dangerous to attempt to make it home, so he and Little Eagle made for a nearby cave for the night. When they arrived they found the cave inhabited by a pack of wolves. Realizing the imminent danger, the Chief told his son to run while he stayed behind to buy him some time. Armed with a tomahawk and a knife he fought valiantly, killing all the wolves but the alpha-male before finally succumbing to his wounds and collapsing to the snowy ground. The alpha, angry with the fate of his pack, sought revenge against the Chief. He pursued the Chief’s son with a relentless fury. Little Eagle, hearing the howl of the angry wolf ran as fast as he could through the mounting snow. However, his efforts were in vain and soon enough the wolf had caught up to him. Little Eagle, realizing there was no escape, pulled an arrow from his quiver and turned to face the great beast. The wolf, hungry for the flesh of revenge, approached him purposefully, salivating at the thought of what was about to ensue. Little Eagle, hands shaking, took aim with his bow. Just as the wolf was about to pounce on him, he unleashed the arrow. The arrow flew straight and true, but the wolf darted out of the way at the last possible second and the arrow lodged into the ground behind him. The brave Indian boy dropped his bow and pulled his hunting knife from his belt. The wolf growled, its eyes keen on his prey and prepared to pounce yet again. Little Eagle stared unblinking into the beast’s eyes and readied for its attack. The wolf bent low on its haunches and just as it was about to leap for him, a cracking sound echoed through the woods. Quite suddenly the ground below the wolf gave way, for it was no ground at all. The wolf clawed desperately against the broken ice, but all was in vain and Little Eagle watched from the solid ground of an island as the wolf disappeared into the cold black water below.” I paused and let it all sink in. “That was this very island.”

  There were a few seconds of silence before Sam spoke.

  “You made that up.” She said.

  I shrugged my shoulders and smirked.

  She smiled. “Whether it’s true or not, I liked it. Makes you think that something out there is watching out for you.”

  I shrugged my shoulders again and said tepidly, “Maybe…”

  She yawned and stretched are arms above her head. “I think I’m gonna go to bed. Umm…where should I sleep?”

  “Oh…” I leaned up in my chair and thought for a second. “You can sleep in my old bedroom. It’s the second door on the left upstairs.”

  She leaned forward and touched me on the arm. “Blake,” she offered amicably, “thanks for everything.”

  I answered sincerely, “Your welcome.”

  Sam stood from the couch and went to the stairs. Half way up she stopped. “Oh Blake, there is one more thing.”

  “Yes.” I said.

  She glanced down at her clothes. “As much as I love the Ninja Turtles, is there any way we can get me some clothes?”

  I laughed, “I will work on that tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.” She turned and headed back up the steps. “Good night.” She said as she disappeared upstairs.

  I got up and tossed a couple large logs onto the fire, then extinguished the remaining candles, save the one I used to light my way up the steps to my bedroom. I blew out the candle and threw myself onto my bed. Thinking of Sam, I fell asleep.

  12

  I got up with the first morning light the next day. I made a quick breakfast for Sam and me, ate mine and then got ready to go to town. Sam was still asleep, so I left her breakfast on a t.v. tray next to the fire before departing. The trip to Red Lake was uneventful and I returned with a large amount of woman’s clothing. Sam was very appreciative when I gave them to her. If she had any reservations about them, she didn’t show it.

  I won’t lie. I liked having Sam around, but I still felt that I couldn’t get to close to her. I couldn’t escape the feeling that at any moment, it would all end and I would be alone again. So, I kept my distance and kept up my normal routine as much as possible. Still, in spite of my efforts I grew closer to her and her to me. One afternoon when I was out by the shed splitting wood she approached me.

  “You need help?” She asked.

  “Thanks,” I answered, “but I got it.”

  “You sure?”

  I took another hack at a large log. “Really, don’t worry about it.”

  Concern shown on Sam’s face as she said, “You’ve done nothing but work since I got here.”

  I stopped and leaned on the handle of my axe. “I did nothing but work before you got here. I like to stay busy.”

  “Why?”

  An image of Abbey flashed in my mind. “Because…I…I just do.”

  She shrugged. “To each his own I guess.” She started to walk away but stopped and turned around. “Even the busiest worker bee needs to have fun every once in a while.”

  I didn’t respond I just went back to work. I brought the head of the axe down upon the log.

  There’s no fun left in this world.

  Two hacks later the log was nearly severed, but before I could bring the final blow I was hit in the back of the head with a snowball. I whipped myself around to find Sam standing about twelve yards away with a sly smile strewn across her lips.

  “It wasn’t me.” She said playfully.

  I paused, then bent down and scooped up a handful of snow from the ground. “If it wasn’t you, who was it then?”

  She brought her hand to her lips and made a zipping motion.

  I padded the snow into a ball in my palms. “Oh, I see. You aren’t telling.” I took a step closer. “We’ll see about that.” I unleashed the snowball, but Sam ducked and it sailed over her head.

  Sam glanced back at the snowball and then at me. “You throw like a girl.”

  I quickly made another snowball, as she turned to run. I fired away and missed again.

  “Whoa, that was a close one,” Sam said laughing over her shoulder, “If only I was eight foot wide that might have hit me.”

  I bent down and scooped up some more snow. Smiling, I gave chase.

  Sam continued to mock me as she ran. “You think someone who spent they’re whole day working would be in better shape.” I shook my head and sped up. I soon caught up to her and she turned around. “Alright, you caught me. I rescind my last statement.” She paused and then laughed, “But not the previous two. You still throw like a girl.”

  Laughing, I wound my arm. “Are you gonna talk?”

  “I told you it wasn’t me.” Answered Sam. “You know why?”

  “Why?”

  She fell backwards onto the snow. “Because I am an angel,” she spread her arms and legs and made a snow angel, “and we always tell the truth.”

  I smiled at her and she smiled back then reached out her hand. “Help me up.”

  I took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. She looked proudly at her angel. “See, no hand prints.”

  We stood side by side for a moment admiring her work and then Sam said something that made me sad.

  “It takes two to make the perfect snow angel.”

  Abbey, shortly before she died, had said those same words after making a row of angels in the snow.

  Sam noticed my sullenness and asked cautiously, “Blake, are you alright?

  “You asked me a few minutes ago why I liked to stay busy.”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  I turned and looked into Sam’s eyes. “Because I am haunted by every quiet moment.”

  With those words, I
dropped the snowball from my hand and turned back to my work. Sam watched me for a few moments and then went inside.

  We barely said a word to each other for the next two days. She kept her distance and I kept mine. She wasn’t mad at me and I wasn’t mad at her, but there was a bridge between us that neither of us was certain we wanted to cross. Still, while I was working I would catch her out of the corner of my eye watching me from a kitchen window and for my part, I found myself making up excuses to go in the house to see her. Then one evening, while I was writing in my journal, Sam came downstairs carrying an old box.

  “Look what I found.” She said excitedly. “It’s an old board game.”

  She pulled it out of the box and I recognized it immediately. It was Life or the game of Life.

  “We should play it.” Sam suggested.

  I closed my journal and shrugged. “Why not?”

  We quickly set up the game and began to play. Sam made it to the career tile first and chose a career.

  “Doctor.” She said enthusiastically. “Just like I always wanted.”

  “Is that really what you wanted to be when you grew up?” I asked.

  “Dr. Samantha at your service.” She laughed, “If only it were true.”

  I spun the dial and landed a six, just enough to reach the career tile.

  She held out three cards. “Your turn to pick.”

  I chose one.

  “Well?” Asked Sam.

  I said glumly, “I’m a plumber.”

  Sam laughed and said smugly, “Well you would have had more career options if you would have went to college.”

  I glared at her.

  “Oh, don’t be upset Blake. We need plumbers too.”

  “Yeah,” I said sarcastically, “call me Mario.”

  After a moment of laughter she became sincere. “If you didn’t want to be a plumber, what did you want to be?”

  I rubbed my head. “Honestly, I never really thought about it.”