A Bridge Named Susan by Sharon Chase Hoseley

Author:Sharon Chase Hoseley [Hoseley, Sharon Chase]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781524590338
Publisher: Xlibris US
Published: 2017-03-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 34

Survival

The end of January saw a huge dip in temperature. The old thermometer given to us on the Lame place registered ten below zero. Branches easily broke off in our hands, frozen solid. The challenge was keeping the animals warm. We tied two blankets on their backs with rope and hung the woodpile tarp across the front of the lean-to to shut out the wind. The cow no longer gave milk. The horse shivered constantly and gave us hopeless looks with his big brown eyes. We spent hours tearing away ice-crusted snow with the pick to break off grass for them. Thank God for the grain the folks had brought at Christmas.

Temperatures slid to fifteen below by the end of February’s second week. We stacked wood inside, hoping it would dry quicker. Wet wood smolders and wheezes forever before catching fire. The woodpile dwindled, forcing us to hunt for old snags not buried in six feet of snow. We were surrounded by trees, but newly cut green wood doesn’t burn at all. Our tent home was never what you’d call warm. It was especially body-shaking at night. The grass in our tic mattress froze, crunching with every move. We clung to every bit of heat we could find, never changing clothes, just adding layers.

One night, Tom, needing more body heat, reached over to wrap an arm around me. My cold body permeated even through layers of cloth. He touched my hands and face; they were frigid. “No. No. No!” he screamed, jumping out of bed. “I’ve killed my wife! She froze! She’s dead!” He shot out the tent flap and ran circles, yelling, “I’m sorry, God. I’m so stupid to think we could do this. Susie! Susie! You’re gone! It’s all my fault. She’s frozen. She’s frozen. No! No!”

I woke with a start to the screaming. “Tom!” I yelled but he couldn’t hear. “Tom!” Reluctantly, I crawled out of bed and looked out the flap, “Tom! What in the world is going on? Have you lost your mind?”

In the dawn light, I saw him stop and stare as if I were a ghost. He grabbed me and began to sob, “It’s you, it’s really you. I thought I’d lost you.”

We lost reality in the next few weeks. Our Christmas gift food was gone except for a little flour. Snow, cold, hunger. It was getting easy to give in, quit the fight. In our survival stupor, we didn’t notice the rising temperatures.

What now? I awoke to a strange sound on the tent. Rain! It was raining! “Tom, Tom, wake up! It’s raining!” Water falling from the sky never looked so good. In two days, it washed away most of the earth’s white blanket, letting green grass show its tiny head. Hope sprang up with the grass. We had survived. The problem of food still reared its ugly head. We led Blacky and Bessy out to the greenest spot we could find. They chowed down, picking the earth bare. We spent painstaking hours brushing their thick, matted winter coats.

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