A Tale of Deception
SPINNING AND SWIRLING, the white flakes fell densely to the ground. If she didn’t leave soon, she wouldn’t be able to.
Dusting the snow off the passenger door with her gloved hand, she unlocked it and reached into the glove compartment, grabbing the ice scrapper/brush tool. Trudging around the car, she brushed off the windows, and then turned the tool over to scrape the ice beads that remained.
Once done, she rushed to the driver’s door and quickly got into the seat, kicking the snow off her short boots, and shutting the door against the icy, cold wind outside.
With her cheeks red, and her breath floating softly inside the frozen car, she trembled as she put the key into the ignition. With relief, it came to life. Rubbing her hands together to warm them, she patiently waited for the car’s heat to function.
She was freezing. On went the air control to defrost, and then the fan to its highest setting, trying to get the air moving over the windshield, to remove the fog off the glass, to get out of the parking lot before it was too late.
Apprehension started to build, as her resolve to wait for the windows to clear diminished.
What am I going to do, if I get stuck? I can’t stay in the car overnight. I’d have to go back into the Kingston building. But, where would I stay? - In a chair? - On the floor? Yet, it would be warm in there. I wonder if there’s even a hotel nearby. Please, Lord, I want to go home. Help me to get home.
With fervent prayers she prepared to leave the security of the parking lot and drive out into the spinning, swirling world of white.
After wiping the moisture off the windshield with her gloved hand, she could see just enough to inch her way out onto the street.
With the sound of crunching snow under her tires, she slid and spun several times as she moved toward the road.
Keep moving, just keep moving. Don’t stop!
Her car slithered onto the street and a few minutes later neared the freeway on-ramp.
I hope I’m going fast enough to get up this thing, she worried, as she increased the speed a little, trying not to lose control.
It’s a forty-five minute drive on a good day. I wonder how long it’s going to take today. Everyone must have left town hours ago when it first started to snow. The streets are so empty.
Easing behind another wayward vehicle, inching its way onto the freeway, Ann followed. She could barely see the red tail lights in the white storm.
Straining to keep her car going, she followed at a safe distance. When she fell too far behind, the red tail lights diminished and she could see nothing but snow churning around her. Anxiety grew as she clutched her steering wheel harder. She pressed on. She didn’t want to lose her way in this white, silent world.
Time advanced, and minutes turned into hours as she crawled toward home. Before long, darkness descended as huge white flakes continued to fall, twirling in the gloom in front of her head lights.
Wrapped in the dark cocoon of her car, the lights from her dashboard illuminating her isolated world, she strained to see her way. The hum of her engine and the sound of the flop… flop… of her windshield wipers struggling to remove the snow, kept her company.
Once in a while, large gray images loomed out of the darkness overhead, ineffectively illuminated in the storm, revealing themselves to be traffic signs telling Ann where the next exit was. She strained to read them.
Looking out her windows, she could see abandoned vehicles deserted in mounds of white. She prayed she wouldn’t become one of them. Firmly gripping her steering, she strained to follow the traffic ahead of her.
Once in a while, a vehicle would leave the loose line of traffic to exit the roadway, while others tried to merge in the white swirling snow, following a vague line not easily seen.
Drivers seemed to recognize the need to go slow, pump their breaks, and leave room as they kept moving.
Four hours later, well after 9 o’clock she exited the freeway into her neighborhood. She was almost home.
The snow continued to fall heavy around her in a shower of white. The absence of snowplows was evident, by the deep ruts left behind by others who had gone before her. Roadways were bogged down with the white substance. Ann fought to navigate around more than one stranded vehicle, abandoned where their drivers had given up the fight to go on.
Straining and crawling her way to the lake, she held her breath as she descended the incline, pumping her breaks, trying to maintain control. But now there were no tracks before her. Abruptly, control was lost, the car slid as she tried to correct its path. She watched helplessly as her vehicle slide off the road. Several times she tried to get it going again, but her car was done, she was done. Just a few blocks from home, she could go no further.
Turning the car off, she sat there in the dark, watching the cold, white world outside. Her hands were sore from gripping the steering wheel for so long. Squeezing and stretching her fingers, she tried to work the stiffness out of them, while the wind moaned softly, and the snow continued to swirl, descending to the ground.
Now, the windows started to fog up from the warmth of her presence. It was time to go. She’d have to leave the comfort of the car and venture out into the cold, dark of the night.
Suddenly the snow eased and she could see the lights of the bridge, far in the distance. Those warm lights and the thought of the gatehouse beckoned.
Sighing, she dragged on her wool hat, pulled her gloves on tighter, buttoned her coat to the top, and secured the scarf around her neck.
Stepping out into the cold night, her feet sank deeply into the snow. Her nice boots were made for walking on plowed streets or icy sidewalks, not for trudging in deep snow.
Looking down the hill once more, the lights called to her, as the cold wind swirled, finding its way into every exposed area on her body. Bowing her head, she started trudging down the slippery surface of the hill, as the snow continued to fill her shoes, freezing her feet, turning them into ice. Adjusting her scarf to cover as much of her face as she could, with only her eyes looking out into the early winter storm, she struggled toward home.
Soon she was covered in snow, dissolving into the white swirling world of the stormy night, unseen.
Time passed, with the snow unrelenting, Ann put one foot in front of the other, trying not to slide, to fall, to injure herself in the unforgiving world of snow. Slowly, frozen, exhausted, she walked over the bridge spanning the frigid, black water below.
On heavy, fatigued legs she walked toward the glowing lights of the gatehouse, holding onto what little strength she had left. Tired, oh so tired. How she wanted to sleep.
All she sought now was relief from her cold, frozen, and wet things, to get warm. A hot cup of coffee sounded wonderful, anything to get warm, and to sleep.
Then she remembered she’d have to call the house, and then the Hendersons.
“Darn,” she said trembling from the cold.
Numbly, she stumbled up the steps, and pounded on the door. As she leaned against it, she almost fell in, when it was opened. Dougal MacClaryn grabbed her. Jumping up, Jamie rushed to help, lifting her in his arms and taking her to the large chair by the fireplace.
“I’m okay,” she said softly, her teeth chattering, as she reached down, trying to get her feet out of her snow packed boots.
“I can see that,” Jamie said sarcastically. Gently he pulled off her shoes, then helped her remove her hat, coat and gloves.
Dougal brought her a glass of brandy. “Drink dis lass,” he stated firmly.
“I don’t drink,” Ann said through clinched teeth, shivering.
“Tonight you do,” Jamie told her.
Ann looked at him in defiance, but when she saw the compassion and determination in his eyes, she realized both of them were only trying to help.
“Ye muss lass. We cannae get ye aid this night,” the old man said kindly.
Ann looked at them both and realized the truth in what they were saying. It won’t kill you, just this once.
Trem
bling, she took hold of the glass with both hands and took a sip. It was like swallowing liquid fire. It burned going down, tasted fowl, and took her breath away. But it warmed her quickly, deeply, and eased her shaking.
“Drink it all doon, lass,” Dougal encouraged her.
Ann closed her eyes, made a face, tried to comply.
Jamie came from a back room with a towel. Kneeling, he started drying and rubbing her feet vigorously, attempting to get the blood circulating, and to get them warm.
Dougal brought a heavy, old wool sweater and wrapped her in it. It smelled of pipe tobacco, the earth, and of him. Soon, she was holding a hot cup of tea, heavily sweetened. Slowly she was warming up in the comfort of the old gatehouse.
“Now, may I ask who you are?” Jamie inquired of her.
Shocked, Ann realized they had never met, though he was taking her mother to school.
“She’s Mrs. Drummond’s new assistant, laddie,” Dougal told his son. “Mrs. Henderson is nae it?”
“Yes… I’m Ann,” she answered the man sitting next to her.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Henderson,” Jamie said with a knowing smile. “Your mother and I have talked a lot about you on our drives to school.”
“Have you now,” she said understanding his teasing look. “I hope you’ve been entertained by her story telling,” Ann teased back.
Remembering she needed to contact the house and call the Hendersons, she asked to use the phone. Faye answered.
“Ann! I’m so glad to hear your voice. Are you all right?” she said with concern.
“Yes. The MacClaryn men have rescued me and made me very comfortable. I’m sitting by the roaring fire, thawing out. Can I speak to my mother?”
“She’s right here. I’ll tell the others,” offered Faye.
Ann explained her harrowing experience in the snow to her mother. “I wish I could’ve called you. But I couldn’t pull over to use the cell phone, I was so afraid of getting stuck. All I could do was concentrate on keeping the car going, staying on the road, and not hitting anything or being hit, if I could help it.”
“We understand,” said Emma with relief. “We’re just so glad you’re safe. We saved dinner for you. It’s on the stove and still hot if you want it.”
Ann looked at the men in the room. “Can we get to the house tonight?”
“Noo lassie. It’s ta dirk, an th’ snows ta deep, we cannae get ye thru. Maybe in th’ morn,” Dougal told her. “We have a guest room, an we’ll make ye snug fur de night.”
“Mr. MacClaryn said it’ll be too hard to get there tonight, Mom. He’ll bring me out in the morning, if he can.”
“All right, dear. Can you tell me how your meeting went with the Henderson?” Emma asked.
“It went fine, in fact its wonderful news, but I’d like to tell you later, okay?”
“Sure,” Emma said a little disappointed, but Ann must have her reasons. “Marty wants to talk to you too.”
“Hi, Mom, you okay?” her daughter asked, wanting to hear her mother’s voice for herself.
“I’m much better now that I’m warming up and getting dry, dear. You stay safe and snug and I’ll see you as soon as I can, okay?”
“Okay. I miss you,” she said from her heart.
“Miss you too sweetie. Get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you soon,” Ann blew a kiss to her over the phone.
Emma got back on the line.
“Mom, would you do me a favor. Please call the Hendersons, their phone number is in my address book, on the desk, and let them know I’m okay?” Ann asked, too tired to do it herself.
“Sure, honey. I’ll do it right away. See you when you get here, and I’m glad you’re safe,” Emma stated.
“Night Mom,” Ann said, hanging up.
The bachelors made a valiant effort at making their guest comfortable. With a hot bath, borrowed pajamas too big for her, and a warm bed, Ann slept deeply through the night.
The next morning, with the rising of the sun, the snow began to melt as fast as it had fallen. Puddles, minor ponds, and miniature rivers flowed, sparkled, and made merry music as the liquid make its way downhill.
Ann ate a hearty breakfast, and sat near the fireplace sipping coffee.
The growl of a Jeep was heard pulling up to the gatehouse, outside.
Jamie opened the front door, poked his head in and cheerfully stated, “It’s a mess out here, but the Jeep should get us through this slop, if you want to go to the house, Mrs. Henderson.”
Smiling, Ann grabbed her hat, coat and gloves, donned her dry socks and shoes, yelled her thanks to Dougal, and rushed to the front door. “What about my car?” she asked, as she almost ran Jamie over to get onto the vehicle.
“I’ll get it to you as soon as I can,” he told her, smiling at her eagerness to get home. Teasing, he said, “Not in a hurry to leave us so soon, are you?”
Ann smiled warmly at his poking fun, then tossed him her keys. With exaggerated big eyes and a big smile, she shook her head back and forth in a big no, implying a “not at all” look.
Jamie laughed. He liked her spirit and her sparkling eyes.
Jamie fought valiantly through the slushy mounds of melting snow, piled high, here and there. With the Jeep constantly slipping and sliding, the engine roared its defiance at the terrain it was seeking to conquer, speech was impossible. Soon, she was at Drummond Hall, and home.
Ann was so elated at being there, she almost turned and hugged the man at the wheel in gratitude. In that split second, she thought better of it, and jumped out of the vehicle, instead.
Jamie noticed that he’d almost been hugged.
“Thank you Mr. MacClaryn for getting me here,” she called back to him as she darted for the door.
“Jamie! You can call me Jamie,” he yelled as she disappeared into the house.
Changes