“We’ll see them. And Santa will appreciate it. I mean, I know he’s all seeing and everything, but he probably doesn’t like landing in the dark.”
The girl puffed white plumes of warmth as she lugged the heavy box. Henry slid the tall ladder up against the back of the house, where the television was just a soft drone. He locked it into place and then turned to Marnie rubbing his hands together.
“Okay, your job is untangling and plugging them in to see if they work. I’ll staple them up, sound good?”
Henry fished the end of a long string of twinkle lights from the box and tucked a stapler under his arm.
“Should we use all of them?” asked Marnie holding up a small pink flamingo dubiously.
Henry shrugged. “Sure, why not? They have Christmas in Florida too. Maybe flamingos pull the sleigh in the south.” Most of the lights were plastic beer bottles or palm trees. Party lights. No one would have been here in the winter. Henry thought about pulling the caps off so only the twinkle lights were left.
“I like the peppers,” said Marnie, holding up a string of bright red chili lights. Henry grinned and started climbing the ladder.
I’m going to make a terrible father,
he thought, carefully stapling the little brown beer bottles to the eave. Elizabeth came out at last, while Marnie untangled one of the last strands and handed the end up the ladder to Henry.
“Here for the big reveal?” he asked cheerfully. Elizabeth’s eyes were red and tired, but she managed a small smile.
“I actually came to see if you two would like to have some hot chocolate.”
“With marshmallows?” asked Marnie.
“I think I can manage a few marshmallows, sure. Henry? How about you?”
“Sure, just let me staple this last bit. You go on in, I’ll be there in a moment.”
Marnie started running inside and whirled around. “Don’t turn them on without me,” she said.
“Nope, you’re the official switch flipper.”
They disappeared inside and Henry managed to attach the last few lights without stapling his hand. He began climbing down the ladder. He frowned and looked down as one foot slid on a rung. They weren’t that wet. He went a little slower, but he was still a few feet off the ground when his leg missed the next rung completely and he fell with a thump into the snow. For a few seconds he couldn’t breathe and then it came back with a cold groan, as if his lungs were a creaky door. Elizabeth came running out and into the snow.
“Henry, what happened? Are you hurt?”
He sat slowly up. “I’m okay. Just got the wind knocked out of me. I must have slipped.”
No I didn’t. My foot never even touched the rung. What is wrong with me? I feel like I’m drunk. And not just tipsy either.
The thought struck him almost as hard as the fall had and he sat in the snow as Elizabeth worried over him. Marnie came to the door and looked out, a porcelain cup in her hands. Henry got up and brushed himself off.
“Come on,” Elizabeth said, “You should get some dry clothes and warm up. You’ve been out here all day.”
Henry stomped the snow off his boots as he climbed the back porch steps. Marnie gave him the cup.
“For me?” he asked.
“I’ll take care of you if you take care of me,” said Marnie, her face serious.
“What’s that?” Elizabeth asked closing the swollen back door behind her.
“Nothing,” said Marnie and ran into the living room. Elizabeth watched her and Henry sank down into a hard wood chair at the table.
“Do you know what she’s talking about?” asked Elizabeth, turning to face him.
Henry pulled off a cold boot while he thought about what he wanted to say. He threw a wet clump of snow at the wood stove so he could watch it sizzle and pop. “I know it’s not really my place. I mean, I don’t know anything about kids Liz. I think the news is making her frightened. It’s not making me very comfortable either actually. Maybe you and Dave can– I don’t know, shut it off once in a while or turn it down?”
“We’re just trying to keep informed about what’s going on.”
Henry bent over to pull off his other boot. “I know.”
Elizabeth sat across from him, the pale kitchen light catching in all the tiny lines around her tired eyes. “I just want to get back for Christmas and have the whole thing behind us. I’m not sure how much longer we can stay out here. We’re going to have to go to town for food very soon.”
Henry sat up and looked at her sharply. “Do you and Dave have any kind of plan, in case we have to stay?”
Elizabeth laughed, but she started flicking a splinter in the table obsessively. “Oh Henry, don’t tell me you’re one of those doomsday people. The government will work it out. I’m sure it will only be a few weeks. The news is still broadcasting, there’s still power. Things can’t be that bad.”
Henry pushed a hand through his damp hair. He took a gulp of lukewarm chocolate. “Yeah, I know, the authorities will sort it out. But, Liz, what if we have to fend for ourselves for a few weeks more until they do? Someone’s going to have to go get some supplies and we’re going to need to button this place up some more.” Elizabeth didn’t look convinced. “At least so Marnie doesn’t get worried when things aren’t normal,” Henry continued. It was his last bid for help, the only appeal he thought would snap her and Dave out of their inaction. Elizabeth glanced into the living room where Marnie was playing on the floor behind Dave’s chair.
“Okay, Henry, what do you want me to do?”
Henry looked over at Dave. He watched the blue and green images bounce off Dave’s glasses for a minute and wondered how much was actually getting through. He turned back to Elizabeth. “Look, I’ll go. I know you have Marnie. And Dave– I know he’d rather be here to protect you. But I need some help planning it and getting ready. There’s no plow, so I’ll have to walk. We’re going to need to make a sled or something to bring it back with.”
Elizabeth nodded absently, already making a list in her head.
“And I’m going to need some kind of– of weapon. In case.”
“We’re in the woods Henry, there’s no one here.”
“I know, Liz. It’s just in case. I heard a wolf near the shed yesterday,” Henry lied.
“Let’s think about it. You don’t have to leave tomorrow, do you? Just give me a few days to work things out.”
Henry nodded. But as it turned out, they didn’t have a few more days.
Seven
Henry’s bedroom door swung open and hit the wall with a heavy thump. Henry sat up partway and then sank back for a second until his head cleared. He reached for the lamp and the switch clicked but nothing happened.
“Henry?” the small voice floated through the dark room. Henry rubbed his eyes and swung his feet onto the chilly floor.
“Marnie? What’s wrong? Where are your parents?”
“In the car. They’re fighting.”
Henry puffed out a silent sigh. “It’s okay Marnie. Can you turn on the hall light? I can’t see anything.”
“The lights won’t turn on. Here.” A bright round ball flashed on in the doorway. Henry laughed.
“What is that?”
“Pookta,” said Marnie.
“Oh,” said Henry and shook his head. Still, the stuffed animal’s belly did give off decent light. He got up and went to the doorway. “Okay, let’s go find some candles and start the wood stove again. You and Pookta lead the way.”
Marnie slid a small hand into his and Henry had to stop himself from pulling his hand back. Where was her mother? Hadn’t they noticed the lights go out? Kids were supposed to go to their mom when they were scared.
“At least we don’t have to listen to the sick people yell any more,” said Marnie as they threaded their way between the ragged armchair and the dark television.
Thank God for small favors
, thought Henry. “Check the drawers Marnie, see if you can find candles or a flash light. I’m going to open the stove so we can see. Don’t get near it.”
He yanked on the swollen back door and stepped, hissing onto the snow-covered back porch in his bare feet. He grabbed an armful of wood and tried not to notice the dark, open door of the wood shed and the hunched shadows of the trees devouring the yard. He could hear raised voices, but they were muffled. He assumed it was Elizabeth and Dave. At least they’d taken it outside. Henry went back in the house and poked the dying fire in the stove. He was glad he’d moved the wood up to the porch. Marnie was lining up small wax candles on the kitchen counter.
“Any flashlights Marnie?” Henry threw a chunk of wood into the stove. His feet ached with the cold. These old houses built on posts just never got warm. They’d have to find a way to insulate it better.
“No flashlights.”
“That’s okay,” said Henry. He lit two of the candles. “Don’t touch, okay?”
“I know.”
Marnie sat at the table, her legs dangling in the cold air. “Do you want to go get one of your blankets?”
Marnie shuddered. “No,” she said, “not by myself.”
Henry threw another log into the stove and added some cardboard. He heard the front door open and Dave swore as his shin hit something.
“Are you afraid of the dark Marnie?” Henry was asking. Elizabeth walked into the kitchen.
“Marnie’s never been afraid of the dark,” she said, confused.
Henry shrugged, his back to them as he coaxed the fire back to life. “It’s no big deal, I was afraid of the dark for a long time. And she seemed pretty scared when she came to get me.”
“It wasn’t the dark that scared me,” said Marnie, “It was the face.”
Henry felt a cold ache settle into his spine and shoulders. He turned slowly around. He kept his voice even and his face neutral. “What face was that Marnie?”
“There was a man’s face looking into my bedroom window,” said Marnie, “I think he was hurt. And he looked really cold. But I don’t think he saw me, I pretended to be asleep.”
“But that was just a dream, wasn’t it honey? Sometimes we see scary things in our dreams when we’re worried.” Elizabeth said, smiling.
Marnie looked doubtful and hesitated. Henry casually pulled on a wet boot and then the other. “Where are you going Henry?” the girl asked, avoiding her mother’s question.
Henry smiled and slid his coat over his t-shirt. “We’re going to need more wood and its too cold to go out with my bare feet any more.” He pulled his jacket from the hook. “Hey, Dave,” he called, “Want to help me grab some more wood?”
Dave came scowling into the kitchen. “I need to check the breakers Henry. You and Marnie must have overloaded a fuse with those damn twinkle lights. Can’t you get the wood yourself?”
Henry stared at him and thought about shaking him or hitting him to knock some sense into the man, but Elizabeth put a hand on Dave’s arm. “I’ll check the fuses Dave, why don’t you go with Henry. Besides, I don’t think its a fuse. Someone probably ran into a pole down the road. There’s not much we can do but wait until they fix it.”
Dave swore under his breath and pushed past Henry onto the dark porch. “You coming?” he snapped.
Henry glanced at Elizabeth. “You and Marnie stay in the kitchen and get warm. Besides all the candles are in here. We’ll be right back,” he looked at Marnie. “Stay here,” he said and pulled the back door closed with a thump. Dave was piling logs into his arms.
“Why’d you close the door Henry?” he fumed.
“Shh, Dave. I didn’t need you to carry wood. Marnie saw someone outside her window while you guys were in the car.”
“What?”
“She saw a guy, he looked into the window at her. She thinks he was hurt.”
Dave dropped the logs. “Jesus. What if he’s infected?”
“He probably just went off the road and had an accident, but I didn’t want to find him by myself.”
“Does Elizabeth know?”
“She thinks Marnie was dreaming.”
Dave shrugged, “Maybe she was.”
Henry grabbed a slim log of birch. “You want to chance it?” he asked and walked quietly down the porch steps holding the log like a club. He heard the back door open and looked back.
“Sorry Henry,” Dave hissed, “I have to keep my wife and daughter safe.” The swollen door squealed shut. Henry ground his teeth together. What was he doing with these cowards? He would have been better off on his own. Then Henry remembered hiding in his apartment as something scrabbled outside, eating his neighbors. He shuddered. Maybe this
was
better. He gripped the slippery log tightly and trudged through the snow toward Marnie’s bedroom. The snow was rucked up and piled everywhere from Marnie’s play, so Henry couldn’t tell if there were fresh footprints or not. He tried to catch his breath before he turned the corner of the house. He shouldn’t be this out of breath. He wasn’t a gym rat but he was fit and healthy. A dozen feet, even in heavy snow shouldn’t have worn him out. Henry told himself that it was just because he was scared. He swung himself around the side of the house in one quick motion, holding the log in front of his face, just in case. The moon was weak and the little piles of snow cast dark shadows in the hollow spots, but Henry could see there was no one next to Marnie’s window now. He checked the windows along the side of the lodge. All firmly closed. He looked around near his feet and saw some spreading blackness. A ripple of unease climbed his shoulders and neck. Henry looked around for more. A splash here, a dot there, a trail of night melting the snow. Henry followed it. The man was definitely hurt. Had he been attacked, or just had a car accident? The blood led away from the house and became a clear path of footsteps looping into the untouched field. Henry looked back at the house. There were candles lighting the kitchen now, but no one was even watching at the window for him. An ugly part of him rose up and wondered if he ought to just leave them now. Just walk back into town and take his chances. Let them deal with whatever dark surprise was waiting at the other end of the string of blood beads. But there was the kid. Whatever it was could grab her. It wasn’t her fault that her parents were worse than useless.