The Christmas Phoenix (3 page)

 

Jake trudged out his back door, carrying Charlie under his arm. The puppy shivered, but not from the cold. He was still terrified to go outdoors, but he needed to do his business. And he needed the exercise. Jake set the dog on the ground, but Charlie spun around and ran back toward the house. He emptied his bladder by the door, and then yapped, wanting to be let in.

Jake sighed. It looked like he was still going to be cleaning up after Charlie. Picking up the puppy, he glanced out across the yard. A lone figure trudged across the snow from the house across the gully. The petite woman looked up, as if greeting the day, and then went over to her woodpile. The power was out in the entire neighborhood, and Jake had been thankful for the gas fireplace in his sister's house. His house had warmed up quickly.

But if Jess had to depend on wood, she'd need a lot more than the tiny pile in the back of her house. Where was that kid of hers? He should be out there helping her.

Jake glanced over again. Jess was wielding a heavy scoop shovel, trying to knock the snow off the top of the woodpile. The snowfall in the last few days had been heavy, and she had her work cut out for her, especially with that huge shovel. He'd better go and help her. Opening his back door, he set the puppy inside and watched as Charlie dashed to the basement. He closed the door, went to the garage, and started up the snowmobile.

He rode down the hill to the makeshift bridge and across, and then up toward her house. Jess continued to knock the snow off her woodpile.

"Need help?" he asked.

She yelped, and turned toward him, holding her shovel in front of her like a weapon. He backed away, holding his hands out in front of him.

"Whoa. I come in peace. If you want me to go away, just say so. I saw you across the yard, and it looked like you were having trouble getting to your woodpile. So I rode across. I didn't mean to sneak up on you, but I figured you'd hear the motor." He gestured toward the snowmobile.

Her features relaxed and she put the shovel down. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone."

Jake nodded. "Your power out too?"

"Yes. It's getting a little chilly in there, so I wanted to bring some of this wood inside."

"I'll help."

Together they knocked off the rest of the snow. A thick layer of ice had formed under it. They cracked through the ice, and uncovered the wood. Jake frowned at the pile. "Do you have more wood somewhere else? That's not going to last you very long."

"I know, but it should at least warm up the house a little, and then I figured I'd gather up more of the branches and stuff around the yard. If I have to, I'll call someone to see if I can buy some."

"You've got a lot of wood all around the house."

"Yes, but I've never used a chain saw. There's one in the shed, but it hasn't been used since Doug died.”

“I'll take a look at it. If it works, I'll help you cut up some of these dead trees,” he offered as they carried some of the logs inside to the wood stove in the den.

She beamed at him, and he felt his heart speed up. "Thank you. That would be great."

Jake watched as Jess opened the damper and started a fire in the stove. He had always admired a self-sufficient woman and this one in particular managed quite well on her own. He wondered how long she'd been a widow, and then chastised himself for his curiosity. There was no way he could burden her with his problems. He was so deep in debt he had nothing to offer, and with a bum leg he was no prize. Still, he couldn't stop the feeling of protectiveness he felt whenever she was near. Maybe it was because she was so tiny compared to his six-foot-plus frame, but he wanted to take care of her, even though she seemed capable of taking care of herself.

Rory shuffled into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of orange juice and took it into the den, where he plopped down onto the couch and picked up the television remote.

“Mom, the TV's not working.”

“I know. The power's out. That's why I've been outside getting wood.”

“Oh.” He put down the remote and picked up a video game.

Jess' phone rang and she excused herself to answer it. While she talked, Jake looked over at her son.

H
e was taller than his mother, and looked pretty healthy. Why was he sitting there on the couch while his mom did all the work?

"Hey, kid."

The boy's fingers stopped, but his head didn't move. It was difficult to see his eyes through the hair covering his face. He'd just have to assume he had the kid's attention.

"Your mom's been working pretty hard out there. Why don't we help her out?"

The boy didn't move for a while, and Jake wondered if he'd overstepped. Finally the boy shrugged, and stood. Jake stood almost eye-to-eye with him. He wanted to shake the kid and ask why he would let his tiny mom work so hard, but held himself back. He didn't have the right. Better to just suggest strongly and hope the kid got the message.

"If the power is out for a long time, you two will need a lot of wood. More than what she has out there. I'll start cutting, and you can bring it to the side of the house. Okay?"

His words were again met with a shrug, but at least the kid was up. Jake wondered what it would take to elicit a verbal response, but decided a shrug was better than a refusal. Best to pick his battles, he supposed.

He held his tongue again when the boy grabbed a sweatshirt before following him to the shed. Did he really think a sweatshirt was good enough to protect him from the sub-zero temperature? Well, the boy was old enough to know better.

Jake found the chainsaw and got it to work. He and Rory went around to the north side of the house.

Hearing a door open, he turned and saw Rory go back inside. He took a deep breath to calm his anger. How had Jess saddled herself with such an irresponsible punk? Grumbling to himself, he pulled the chain and started to
trim a fallen tree
. He had a dozen or so pieces cut when a pair of gloved hands picked one up. Ah. The kid had finally realized he needed to dress for the weather. He now sported a snowmobile suit and a pair of boots.

The suit was a few sizes too large for the boy. It must have belonged to his dad. But though it hung loosely, the arms and legs were just the right length for him. Rory apparently had his father's height. Must be the dad's boots, too. Poor kid.

He went back to cutting wood.

Jess came out to join them and by noon, the wood pile had grown to a stack about ten feet long and about four feet high. She and the kid had worked hard. Jake's legs ached, and he knew he'd have to sit down. Time to quit. If Jess needed more, he'd come back. He started walking back to the house.

Rory came to him, his hands outstretched. "I'll put the saw back in the shed."

It rankled him that a young kid would need to ease the way for him, but this would save him several steps. And his leg was getting sore. He handed the saw to Rory, and hobbled the rest of the way to the house.

Jess was in the kitchen, stirring something
on a camping stove set up on her counter. She looked up when they came in.

"I figured we all deserved a hot drink after all that work."

"Hot chocolate?" The kid's voice squeaked when he got excited, Jake noticed.

"Yup. Sound good?"

Rory nodded, and Jake noticed the kid was less sulky than before. The exercise must have been good for him. He and Rory took off their snowmobile suits an
d left them on hooks in the mud
room.
Their boots were placed on a rubber mat.
Rory went into the living room and soon began a phone conversation with one of his friends. Jake stayed on the bench, thankful for the rest. He'd been standing for a long time. Hopefully, he hadn't overdone it.

He massaged his leg, thankful for the warmth the friction generated. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall.

"Jake? The hot chocolate's ready. Want to join us?" Jess stood in front of him, a worried frown lining her face.

"Mmm? Sorry. I must have dozed off." Jake pushed against the bench, but his leg wouldn't support him. He flopped back down. "Uhh, would you mind if I drank mine here? My legs aren't quite rested."

Jess' eyes widened, but she nodded and left. She was back a moment later with a huge mug and
a bundle
wrapped in a towel.

"I thought maybe you could use this." She held out a hot water bottle.

Jake started to shake his head, but realized pride wouldn't help his leg. He took the rubber bottle and settled it on his aching muscles. The warmth immediately eased the pain. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” She waited until Jake had the heated bundle where he wanted it, and then extended the mug of steaming cocoa toward him. “Thank you for taking the time to cut all that wood. Did you hurt yourself out there?”

“No, it's an old injury. Iraq."

“Oh. I guess we should have quit earlier."

"It's no big deal. I need to exercise more to strengthen the leg muscles."

"You got your exercise today. I forgot to ask. Is Charlie doing better now?"

“He's not hiding under the pool table any more, but he's still afraid to go outside. And he's not eating much.”

“That's awful. He needs to be outdoors. Say, Rory has a way with animals. Maybe he should go over after school tomorrow and help you take care of
him
.”

“If he can get that dog to eat and play outside, I'd be in his debt.”

“No, we'd be even again, after all the wood you cut for us. I'll find out if he has plans. If not, he should get there around four o'clock tomorrow. The stream is frozen over, so he should be able to walk across to your house from here.”

Jake leaned back and sipped his cocoa. There it was, that funny feeling he got whenever Jess was near. What was it? Was it contentment, being with someone he could trust?

Or was it fear, the awful feeling something bad would happen if he started to enjoy himself too much?

 

Jake hunkered down in front of the ice block and attached his paper pattern to it. In a few hours, this block would become a vase. A local florist wanted a set of six and planned to set fresh flowers inside them. The flowers would be protected from the ice by a clear plastic container.

He put on his headphones to protect his ears and switched on his chainsaw. Carefully, he cut through the pattern to create a two-dimensional figure. Then he placed an identical pattern on the other flat side of the block and cut through, making a square version of his vase. Now he would need to round it out.

Back in his old shop, he could have simply set the block on a lathe for a much fancier design. But he'd had to sell much of his equipment when he liquidated to pay off his debts. Now, he had to do this the hard way. He bent and gently touched the blade to the ice. He worked slowly, shaving off only a little bit each time. The corners gradually smoothed into curves, and soon he could begin adding the detail with a chisel.

The back door to the garage banged open. It might as well have been an explosion. Jake's upper body straightened and the blade jerked, slicing the entire top of the vase off. It fell to the floor, shattering in a hundred pieces.

Jake turned off the motor on the chainsaw, took a deep breath, bent his head, and started counting. The shrink at the rehab center had told him to count before reacting. If he turned around now, he'd probably behead whoever had interrupted his concentration. All his work for the afternoon was now gone. He didn't even have the piece to reattach. He might have to start over.

He counted to fifty, and just to be safe, continued counting. He took the headphones off and set them down.

"I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you do that." The voice was quiet, with a slight quiver. It was the kid. Rory.

Jake sighed. "I know you didn't."

"Um. The basement is clean. Charlie is outside. And—I'll go home now. Unless you want me to—fix that, somehow."

Jake shook his head. He heard the door close. Quietly. He might be able to fix the vase. The cut was clean, so he should be able to attach another block of ice to it. He grabbed a spray bottle of water and wet down the cut surface. Then he took a spare chunk of ice and held it against the wetness, waiting for them to freeze together. He put the entire piece in the freezer to solidify.

Next, he went to work on a second vase. Two hours later, the second vase was shaped. He sat back on his stool and checked his work.

The knocking was soft, and it took a while for his mind to digest what it was. He put his tools down and opened the door.

Jess was there.
Great. Another distraction.

"Yeah?" He hadn't spoken in a few hours, and his voice had a gruff edge he hadn't intended.

"Rory told me what happened to your sculpture. He feels really bad about it."

Jake shrugged. "Stuff happens."

"True, but that was a lot of work that went down the drain. We'd like to make it up to you."

He frowned. "Can you carve some floral vases? I have a big banquet this weekend."

"Well no, but—”

"I suppose I should put a sign on the door when I'm working in here, so people don't barge in. I need to put a lot of work into this project in order to get it done by this weekend. That doesn't leave much time for distractions."

"Okay, how about this—Rory can come over and take care of Charlie after school each day, and I'll leave you something to eat each afternoon so you can concentrate on getting your sculptures done. Will that help?"

"It sure would. But I can't ask you to do all that."

"You're not asking. I'm offering. We owe you. I'll send Rory over tomorrow right after school. And I'll get started on a meal or two to put in your fridge."

Jake watched her walk out of the garage. The woman had a great figure to watch. That was worth a broken sculpture or two any day.