Chapter 7
Sam was snapped back to the here and now by yet another bone rattling shiver that started at his toes and rippled all the way up his body until he felt like his ears were going to turn inside out. “Na, I don’t think that first one could have been a 7.2. My gosh, the aftershock I just had was at least a 9.”
Sam was still talking to himself and laughing as he stretched his wretched old frame and tried to get some of his frozen joints to loosen up. He grabbed the big wool blanket off his bed, wrapped it around him, and walked across the wood floor to the old cast iron stove. He nudged the door open and jammed a couple of logs in. He stuck the poker in and stirred up what was left of the glowing embers trying to stir up enough heat to get the fresh fuel to ignite.
Sam shuffled back to the warmth of his bed and pulled the covers over his head. This last five years had seemed like an eternity. He had truly become the man that they sang about in one of those old country western songs, “He was tired of living, but too scared to die.”
He laid there under the covers thinking of the things he had to do that day. After all it was December 24th, Christmas Eve day. Mary and he would have been married 57 years today if she was alive, because it wasn’t just Christmas Eve, it was their wedding anniversary too. Even though he was all alone, there were still some things he did every Christmas Eve that were tradition when he and Mary were together. In honor of her memory he still did those things, because he knew that’s the way she would have wanted it.
The cabin started to warm as old faithful started to devour the logs Sam had fed her earlier. The warmth of the morning sun started to stream through the windows and helped hurry along the warming process. Sam finally got up and put on his old plaid long sleeved red flannel shirt and pulled on his overalls. He put a kettle of water on top of the potbelly to start warming and opened a can of beans, and slid it alongside the kettle. “OK so it ain’t hot oat meal but in a few hours I’ll be able to fumigate this place and kill any bats that might have snuck in during the night.” A voice in a different tone responded, “Yeah well the strength of your fumigation process combined with the open flame in that old stove may just cause an explosion that blows your sorry carcass all the way into Good Hope.” Beans in the morning, definitely not what your mom used to make for breakfast, but they filled the hole.
Sam looked out the window and was relieved to see that the storm that had been predicted had not come during the night. It was cold, but there was only about four inches of old packed snow on the ground, and at least the sun was shining.
Sam put on his stocking cap, heavy tattered jacket and his gloves. He grabbed his .22 rifle, and his small hatchet and was out the door by eight o’clock. He had to get himself a rabbit for his traditional Christmas Eve dinner. First he’d clean it, then roll it in flour with salt and pepper, then fry it in bacon grease. Then he’d put it in a dutch oven with about a ½ inch of water and let it steam itself for an hour until it was cooked to falling off the bone perfection. He’d mix up some of those dried mash potato flakes he’d been saving for this occasion and use the juices and leavings in the bottom of the dutch oven for gravy. Umm, his mouth was watering just thinking about it. He might even try to make a few biscuits if he had any biscuit mix left.
Then he had to cut down a little tree for Christmas. Mary always waited until Christmas Eve to put up the tree and decorate it. It was part of the fun and anticipation for her. He didn’t have any lights, but he had collected colorful pieces of clothe that he tied together and used as a garland, and he had a wonderful assortment of hand carved ornaments. Why there were probably over a hundred little hand made animals and snow flakes and stars and little nutcracker soldiers that he had whittled over the years. Then there was “The Angel.” He had taken great care to carve “The Angel” that adorned the top of the tree, because a long while back he had found the most unusual nugget he had ever seen. It reminded him of a halo. He had carved that angel with such precision and care, that when he was finished he was able to snap the halo shaped gold nugget right into the intricate groove he had carved around the angel’s head. It was magnificent, if he didn’t say so himself.