There was a bone–chilling dampness in the night air created by the previous day’s thaw. The sky, completely cloud–covered, contributed to the blackness surrounding Tim as he made his way to the shed to get a lantern, some rope, and the red sled that had delighted him as a child on winter days. He then stopped off at the house to collect the items needed for the trip, so he could put them on the sled and haul them to the icy shore. Occasionally the moon managed to break through and shoot down a few splinters of silver moonbeams, illuminating small patches of snow.
Inside, Maggie was intent on making the one–room house tidy for its new occupant. On the way out the back door, Tim looked over the blankets piled in his arms and said, “Maggie, I’ll be back to get you as soon as I tie everything down. It’s mighty dark out there, and I don’t want you walking to the dock by yourself.”
Satisfied that all was in order, Maggie put on her long wool coat, wrapped her scarf around her neck, pulled her cap down over her ears, and doused the lamplight before putting on her mittens. As she stepped outside, she could see Tim coming up the path carrying the hurricane lantern, its flame licking and beating against the glass, casting eerie, dancing shadows into the night; its light was quickly devoured by a jealous darkness waiting to reclaim its space.
As she watched him approach, a thought struck her like a cold, icy hand.
I’ve asked him to give up his home, his job, his friends.
She had been wrapped up in her own misery, and not until this moment had it occurred to her that what she’d asked of him was pure selfishness on her part. As soon as he reached her side, she threw her arms around him.
“Oh, Tim, I love you so much! How can I ever thank you for all you’ve done for me?”
This spontaneous display of emotion Tim interpreted as happiness and excitement, relief to finally be freeing herself of a town whose shameful treatment of her had caused her such unhappiness. The fact that she was looking forward to this particular distasteful journey was proof of that, and he was glad he’d finally consented to make it with her.
Although he’d been adamant in his feelings when she’d first brought the idea to his attention, it was the witnessing of the town’s behavior toward her at Father Charles’ funeral that had won him over to her way of thinking. Lifelong friends and neighbors treating her like some kind of pariah—sweet Maggie, who had never deliberately harmed anyone. And that mother of hers! The only word for her was cruel. Where was her heart?
With all Maggie had been through, first the rape, then her mother’s scorn, the pneumonia, the town’s rejection, and the death of a man she adored, Tim had become truly concerned for her emotional wellbeing. If this was what it would take to make her a happy woman, then so be it. He would do all in his power to protect her on their journey.
He leaned down and kissed Maggie on the forehead. “It’s time to go, my love,” he whispered.
They walked down a path bordered on either side by mounds of snow that jumped and danced to the rhythm of light and shadow and arrived at the shoreline, where the sled awaited.
Tim girded the sled’s rope around his waist, leaving just enough slack, picked up the lantern, and they started out. Their silent footfall sank into the soft snow, imprinting a pattern of where they had been. It was five–thirty in the morning.
First light came in like a whisper, desperately trying to wash away the darkness. Their world was now colored in shades of gray.
Having walked for about an hour, Tim decided they should stop to rest. They used the sled as a bench and sat looking back to assess their progress.
A dark outline in the distance wrapped itself around the horizon, all tied up with a ribbon of lights. Maggie wondered which one of those lights twinkled from 7 Erie Street.
“Let’s go,” she said, standing up and turning her back on where they had been.
When the sun made its appearance, they once again stopped and looked toward the east to observe the sunrise performing its majestic golden ritual. The sky, now cleared of gray cloud cover, marked it as one of those rare Canadian winter days. By the time the sun had reached its full omnipotent magnificence, they both instinctively shielded their eyes from the shimmering brightness that surrounded them. The lake was a desert of snow, blanketed overhead by a deep periwinkle blue pillowed with down.
They were distracted by a tick–clicking sound behind them and looked about three hundred yards to the west to discover two young otters chasing each other.
Maggie delighted in their playful antics. It reminded her of the first day she had ever spent with Tim, the day she and Rosemarie had gone out on the lake fishing with him.
The two frolicsome creatures ran in circles, making it difficult to know which one was chasing which. Soon the mother otter poked her head out of an ice hole with a large fish in her mouth. With a swing of her head, she flipped it onto the ice, then disappeared to search for more.
Two greedy little otters screeched to attention and pounced on the fish, each pushing and shoving to get the lion’s share, when Tim said, “Look up there, Maggie.” He pointed to a dark form soaring on a current of air. “It’s an eagle.”
It quickly approached the two unsuspecting otters.
“Oh, no!” Maggie shrieked, covering her eyes to avoid witnessing what was about to take place.
Just as the eagle began to circle for the kill, the mother otter poked her head out of the ice, holding another fish in her mouth. She threw it on the ice and spoke in a language her two children understood perfectly. They dove into the hole with her just as the eagle plummeted with an efficiency of motion, scooped up the floundering fish, and flew away.
“It’s all right, Maggie. You can uncover your eyes, now. They got away.”
“Where’d they go?”
“They’re under the ice with their mother.”
“But what if the eagle comes back?”
“Otters are pretty smart,” he said. “This lake is riddled with holes for ice fishing. That’s one of the main reasons I brought the lantern along. Wouldn’t want to step in one. She’ll likely lead them into shore following a pattern of holes, bringing them up for air at each one. That’s probably how they got out this far in the first place.”
They continued moving on, taking off hats, mittens, and coats and putting them on the sled as the warmth of the sun permeated their woolen layers of clothing. They had taken on a giddy optimism about what they now called “our big adventure” and talked incessantly about nothing and everything, making strong strides southward.
Tim had put a lot of thought into this trip. Although it had been impossible to pin down a date, he knew that when the right time came, they would be ready.
Everyone he’d spoken to about it had said it was folly. “Wait until spring for the little woman’s sake,” they’d said. But he knew it was not an impossible undertaking and didn’t want to go into any explanations as to why this trip was so imperative for the “little lady” herself.
The weather had certainly cooperated by freezing the lake over, and this break in the weather had given them the perfect opportunity to leave. Their destination was around thirty miles away, directly south, from Herron’s Point to Erie, Pennsylvania, which he reckoned would take all of fifteen, maybe sixteen hours if they paced themselves right. That should bring them to the other side about eight o’clock in the evening, he figured.
When the sun was directly overhead, they stopped for lunch. They took both blankets, spread them one on top of the other on the snow, and laid out the banquet of food. Penelope had outdone herself, both with variety and quantity.
“Isn’t this wonderful!” Maggie said as she chewed on a piece of fried chicken.
Tim had already consumed a chicken leg. He licked his fingers and reached for a ham sandwich. “I swear, she must have thought she was feeding Napoleon’s army. Look at all this food. And all of it delicious.” His face grew wistful. “I’ll sorely miss her, Maggie.”
The same overwhelming sense of guilt Maggie had experienced that morning returned. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"Tim, I hadn't realized until today how much I was asking you to give up. Please forgive me for being so selfish.” A tear splashed on the blanket.
It wrenched his heart to see her so. She didn’t need this to add to her plate of sorrow.
“Maggie, love, you are my happiness. I said I would miss Penelope, but I’m only happy if you are. We’ll make a wonderful life for ourselves in the States. And it’s not like we’ll never see Penelope and Clifford again. They promised they would come over and visit us this coming summer, remember? Now, how about a big slice of that chocolate cake, and then I think we’d best get moving on.”
Tim noticed that Maggie had slowed down considerably after lunch. They’d made their best time in the early hours. He knew the rest of the way would be a lot slower moving, but was quite satisfied with their progress. It would be nightfall within the hour, and soon after that, they should be guided by the lights from the Erie shore.
Completely absorbed in the goal ahead, they hadn’t noticed the darkened sky behind them. They did become aware of a definite chill in the air and stopped to put their coats back on. That’s when they saw the winter storm approaching.
Soon the wind picked up, and the entire sky was blackened. Snow began to fall, at first in gusts, and then so heavily they could barely see in front of them. Tim was disheartened, but he knew that for Maggie’s sake, they had to go on.
With his compass in hand, he assured Maggie that it would be best to continue. She agreed.
They took the blankets Penelope had so wisely insisted they take along to protect themselves from the strong wind that assaulted them unmercifully as it heaped huge drifts of snow in their path. As the darkness of the storm surrounded them, it was difficult for Tim to read the compass. At one point he lifted his hand close to his face to take a reading, and the compass slipped out of his ice–covered mittens and fell, sinking into the deep snow at his feet. After several minutes of futile searching, they decided to go on without it.
The storm alone would slow them down considerably, but Tim knew he had to get Maggie to shelter sometime before this day was over. The storm subsided as quickly as it had come, lasting just long enough for the sun to set.
There were no lights to direct them to the shoreline. It became so difficult to make their way through the new–fallen snow that Maggie’s legs began to cramp, and Tim knew they could go no further.
“Maggie, I’m afraid we’re lost. I’d put you on the sled and pull you the rest of the way, but I’m not sure what the right way is. I guess we have no choice but to camp here for the night.” His voice was filled with concern.
They threw themselves wholeheartedly into rolling up snow, and within minutes, a circle of wall took shape. Leaving a small opening, the pair stepped inside the shoulder–high haven.
Tim turned to Maggie and said, “Welcome to Paradise, my brilliant wife.”
Maggie walked to the edge of the wall and looked to the silent, inky night beyond. Tim stood behind her, his arms around her thickened waist, resting his chin on the top of her head. “It’s almost like we’re the only people in the world. Just the two of us and a frozen lake,” she mused.
“Fiercely beautiful,” he responded.
Neither was cognizant of the direction they were looking, for the view was the same in any direction they might choose to face.
“I’m starved,” Tim said and turned to light the lantern he’d hooked to the sled. “You know, Maggie, Penelope lined the wicker basket with newspaper to keep the food from freezing. We can use it to cover the snow and put the blankets on top. That way, we can cuddle and keep each other warm after we eat, and if need be, we can use some of the items in the valise to help keep us warm.”
“I only packed one change of clothes for each of us,” Maggie said. “Just a flannel shirt for you and a wool dress for me, along with some personal items. But we’re both layered to the skin with wool, and thank goodness the temperature’s not too bad. We’ll be fine.” She flashed the best smile she could muster.
Both were quite hungry, and the selection of food was enough to sustain them for the next three days: pickled eggs, applesauce, baked beans, ham sandwiches, fried chicken, cookies, cake, and a peach pie. They ate with relish and washed it down with small doses of snow.
Overtaken with exhaustion, Maggie fell asleep in Tim’s arms immediately after they had cleared the blankets of food. Before sleep overtook Tim, he doused the lantern and looked up through his roofless abode, happy to see that there were no stars. This cloud cover would keep the temperature from going down too far. Protected from the wind, he knew they would survive the night.
When Maggie became aware of Tim stirring, she groaned and stretched her stiff limbs. “Just give me a minute to put this body of mine back together.” She stood up and stretched her aching muscles. “I think it will be another cold day in Hell before I attempt to sleep in an igloo,” she groaned.
Tim laughed, amazed at the tenacity of a woman six months pregnant with such a will to go on. The depth of Maggie’s unhappiness in Herron’s Point was such a driving force, she would endure any hardship to escape it.
“It’s still dark,” Tim said. “I have no idea which direction we should take. But since we put the opening to this wall facing the direction we were headed, I think it best that we keep on moving that way. The temperature’s tolerable, and perhaps by dawn, we’ll be able to get our true bearings.”
Maggie agreed, and they set about packing up the sled, leaving their little snow castle behind. They had no idea how long they’d walked before dawn’s first light, but realized at its onset that they had been heading west.
Unlike the previous day’s sunrise, this one arrived to bathe ribbons of clouds in orange and silver. There was a stark beauty about the day, and although the temperature was still holding above the freezing level, they knew they wouldn’t be shedding their coats.
“Well, Maggie, we’ve taken a bit of a detour, but I have no doubt, barring another storm, that we should reach land before this day is over. We have to be somewhere fairly close.”
They immediately turned south and walked for hours, stopping often to rest. When they had first discussed the trip, they knew it would be necessary to take a sled but feared it would be a real impediment to their progress. Now they realized it was a blessing. Not only had it assured them of food and warmth; it afforded them rest in relative comfort while Tim massaged Maggie’s legs to keep them from cramping.
When they first saw the outline of a land formation, they were ecstatic. It took what seemed forever to reach the rugged, deserted shoreline, its rocky beach rising to a crest of bare trees. With a burst of energy, they plowed through the rock–covered snow. Climbing a small hill, they came upon a rutted, snow–covered road bordered by snow–laden evergreens.
“There must be people close by,” Tim said. “These sleigh tracks and horse prints are fairly fresh. Looks like someone’s been off in the woods collecting firewood.”
“Oh, I hope so,” Maggie sighed wearily. “Wouldn’t a good, hot cup of tea be just about the best thing ever right now?”
They followed the trail of life for about a quarter of a mile. Smoke rose from a small white cottage on their left with a welcoming warmth. Exhausted and spent, they turned into the walk leading to the front door.