Page 90 of Lonesome Moon

22

GRANT

December 22

All Activities Cancelled

BLIZZARD

Supper: Sandwich boxes

On the 22nd, Finley texted a warning to stay inside our cabins right before cell phone coverage died. Fortunately, the staff had delivered stacks of extra firewood and sandwiches just before the blizzard turned serious. I’d planned on going to Luci’s, but I’d waited too long. It was snowing too hard; I could barely make out her cabin. I did, however, catch a glimpse of her in the window. I waved to her and I think she waved back.

I went to the front window as if that would reassure me the storm wasn’t as serious as I thought. No such luck. I’d never seen anything like the fury of this blizzard. Gusts of wind rattled the window and made a hollow, aching sound through the trees.

There was no way I could get to Luci. I’d have to wait this storm out without her. This also meant I couldn’t talk to Jack today. I’d psyched myself up all yesterday, but had not found the right moment. Now we were all stuck inside for who knows how long.

I paced around for a while, then went back to the window. A lumbering figure was traipsing up the steps to Madeleine’s cabin.

Was it? Yes, it was Knox. What in heaven’s name was he doing?

I could barely make him out but he appeared to be pounding on her door. However, she must not have heard him because, a minute or so later, he stumbled back into the storm.

He seemed headed for the creek, clearly disoriented. He’d freeze to death out there. I didn’t stop to think it through. Seconds later, I had my jacket, hat, and gloves on and pushed open my cabin door. The wind pushed against it so forcefully that I had to use my shoulder to pry it all the way open. It slammed shut behind me. I was on my own now.

Finley had mentioned the ropes again in her text but I hadn’t needed the reminder. For weeks now, I’d walked by them, seeing how they were connected throughout the property. I also knew they were the only way I could safely get to Knox and still find our way back.

I grabbed hold of the rope, said a prayer, and lumbered toward Knox, nearly blinded by the slanted, angry snow. Wind howled. Trees bent over as if in protest. I put it to a beat, that storm. Eight counts. Then another eight and so on.

Hand over hand I continued toward Knox. He was stumbling around, falling at one point and getting back up. The pathways around camp were completely obscured by new snow, but the rope didn’t lie. I continued to grip the line until finally I was nearly to him. I’d have to let go of the rope to haul him toward me. I’d done this kind of course a hundred times when I was a kid. Blindfolded. Dad would tie an old strip of thick cotton over my eyes. Then he’d drive me out to some part of our property and I was to find my way home. Without taking the blindfold off. That was the key. I never had any idea if he would know I cheated, so I didn’t. Risking his wrath was not worth it.

The first time, I hadn’t made it. For hours I stumbled around, with no idea where I was, sobbing, sure I was going to die out there alone. He’d finally rescued me at the last of the daylight, angry with me. My punishment was to sleep outside. It was February.

After that, I worked out a plan. I started roaming the property every day, committing to memory how the ground felt under my boots, the rise and fall of hills, the texture of dirt or meadow, telltale rocks. I listened, memorizing the sound of leaves fluttering as a clue to where I was. I used my sense of smell too. What trees or shrubs held smells that would give me clues to where I was. I counted steps from various locations on the property. There wasn’t an inch of my father’s land that I didn’t know.

It took me a dozen times, but finally I made it home without assistance. My father had asked what took me so long.

Over the years, it became a subconscious practice. Wherever I was, I noted the sights, smells, and sounds. I counted how many footsteps there were between my destinations. One hundred and twenty to the restaurant from my cabin, for example. Only twenty-three to get to Luci’s cabin.

That would pay off today. Maybe that had been the reason for it all along. To bring me to this moment. To save my brother. Just use my instincts and my memory.

God stay with me, I prayed silently.

I let go of the rope and basically willed myself forward, calling Knox’s name. The wind swallowed the sound. He had no idea I was there. I trudged another few feet through the snow. And then I was close enough to haul my extremely dumb friend to safety. He was on his side, as if he’d accepted his fate. Not today, my friend. Yeti is here. I grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, hauling him to his feet.

“I’ve got you.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. “Don’t fight me. This way.”

We stumbled a few times but I didn’t let fear stop me. Eventually, we were back at the rope. Knox’s cabin was the closest, so I steered us in that direction. The rope caught under a drift but I pulled it free. A few more steps. Then a few more. And finally, my boot hit wood. The bottom step of Knox’s cabin.

With the last of my adrenaline, I got us both inside and slammed the door against the monster that had almost taken my brother from me.

We more fell than sat onto the rug near the fireplace. I got him out of his wet boots and jacket first, then wrapped a blanket around him and tossed two more logs into the fire.

I heard my father’s voice in my head.

Warm the core first. Then the extremities. Don’t rub them. Don’t put them near a heater.

Now the hard part. Knox had had gloves on but I was worried about those magic fingers of his. I took them in mine and held on hard, talking to my father inside my head.