Monday, September 1, 2014

Part 68

Blood froze where it had splattered and my eyebrows and lashes were frosting over as well.  I looked at the gapping hole where the door had been and nearly cried.  I know I was having a reaction but there just wasn't time for it.  The cold would kill me as surely as the puss brains had tried.  Then I realized if there were six there could be sixty.  All wandering in the night and storm looking for a tasty bucket of sustenance named DeeDee.  As a matter of fact, a picture of an old fashioned bucket of chicken kept floating through my head only instead of the bucket saying "original" or "crispy" it said "Spicy Popcorn Deandra Dawn".  Oh yeah, I was on the edge all right.  The edge of running into my own crazy.

I wasn't nice about it.  There is a time for respect for the dead and a time that you just pray they are already where they are going and don't mind what you do with the shell they left behind.  I pray that when I put a puss brain down that when they get where they are going they count it more of an escape than anything.  Guess I'll know one of these days but I hope that it is a long, long time off.

I just tossed the mess that I had made of the puss brains down my stairs and out into the night, whatever it took to get them out of the cabin.  I'd scrub the rest of the mess up later.  I actually hoped wild animals would find the remains outside and carry it off so I wouldn't have to deal with that too.  Then I manhandled the door back into the gap.  It wouldn't stay up by itself because of the wind so I pushed and shoved what furniture I had in front of it to hold it up ... a five drawer dresser full of cans, the little frig full of dried smoked fish and cattails, and a folding chair I used as a brace to hold everything in place.

Cold continued to pour in where the door frame had been damaged so I shoved what I could into the gaps.  The floor and walls were covered in frost, my drinking water (thankfully covered and undisturbed) was a solid block of ice, and the fire had gone out in the stove leaving me in almost total darkness except for what little light the wind up lamp created which itself was fast fading as the cold made it difficult for the batteries to keep a charge.

With the wind held at bay - definitely been reading too much of the Bronte sisters - I shuffled to the stove, my ankle and arm feeling like they were still being chewed on.  I got the stove going but it only seemed to warm a couple of inches of space away from its surface.  I wanted to look at the "bites" really bad but I knew if I took off my clothes to see them I would lose what little warmth I had.  I also didn't want to be less than dressed if another bunch of puss brains showed up.

I stayed huddled up near the stove for the rest of the night, straining to hear any unnatural noise in the storm.  Eveything sounded unnatural after what I'd done - no matter how I might talk I'm beginning to admit I'm not immune to the emotional muck putting puss brains out of their misery leaves behind.  I think I did hear something legitimately unnatural once or twice; and, after what I found when the storm finally blew itself out the next day I probably didn't hear quite a bit that I should have.

At some point I had fallen asleep, my body and mind shutting down both from shock and I suppose what was near hypothermia.  I woke in pain.  I had lost my balance in my sleep and fallen over on my arm.  I nearly screamed; and would have if Moses's training hadn't been instilled so deeply.  When I got my breath back I realized from the lack of sound that the storm was over.  I got up and hobbled over, and after moving a blanket aside, I peered out a gap in the damaged door frame that it was daylight.  I wasn't sure what time exactly but is was a couple of hours before noon if I was judging the angle of the sun correctly.

After debating with myself I finally moved everything out of the way and went outside.  Not because I had any great desire to be out there but because I needed to take care of nature's call.  I have to tell you the truth, I nearly had to change my underclothes whether I wanted to or not after finding that some puss brains had gotten so desperate they'd climbed down inside the outhouse.  What is left of them is still there and I now keep a bucket in the cabin for at night because no way do I want to go through that again in the dark.  Once was absolutely enough for multlple life times.

No comments:

Post a Comment