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Arlana exhaled a discernible sigh of relief as Jorken informed her that he would have to work on New Year's Eve.
Jorken emitted a loud, mock sigh followed by, "What do you have to sigh about? What's so wrong with your life now?!"
"I'm allowed to breathe," Arlana protested, "and I have asthma."
Was sighing a symptom of asthma? She hoped he wouldn't ask Google.
Internally estimating how many hours of tranquillity she had been granted, Arlana turned her attention to how she'd spend the evening. Once Aziel was in bed, she frequently played games on her laptop, but this was New Year's Eve and she aspired to do something different. Ordering pizza was out of the question - she didn't have enough money. Games with Aziel were her only other option. After that, she pulled a mental blank.
Within an hour, Aziel was giggling at her side, playing her childhood game of "Pop Pop." Aziel loved the game and was surprisingly good at it, normally joining his mother as they ganged up on their mutual foe: Jorken. They didn't care who won the game as long as Jorken was eaten and sent back home, but Jorken was at work, leaving mother and son to play against each other.
"Let's not eat each other, okay? It's really gross eating your eyes, bones and skin," Aziel's features were earnest, his reaction slightly dramatic for the colourful game pegs.
"Then what do you want to do instead?"
"How about we just bop each other on the head?"
And with that the game resumed, accompanied by peals of laughter,
A shrill beep suspended their play. The living room light was off and the digital clock on the stove was now black. Arlana never anticipated losing their electricity on New Year's Eve. She could hear her father in her mind, "See how much you need Jorken!"
No, she didn't require Jorken - not by a long shot. That being said, it was Arlana, not her father who was going to have to experience Jorken's vengefulness when all their food was spoiled. It didn't matter to Jorken that she paid for the groceries out of her meagre funds, his weekly cheque going on everything else.
Jorken worked hard - maybe she was at fault in resenting his alcohol consumption - but she had never desired her son to grow up around an alcoholic. How far had she come! Like a dog, she laid down and accepted her fate, shame tormenting her. Aziel was being affected, influenced by Jorken.
Although he hadn't paid for the groceries, Jorken would scream at her - making her feel lower than gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe if something should happen to their food.
Panicking, Arlana asked Aziel to help her unpack an oversized Rubbermaid tote brimming with clothes much too large for her son. They made swift work of it, then struggled to carry the bin down two flights of narrow stairs to the kitchen.
Aziel clutched the handle while Arlana stocked it with their precious food supply - hamburgers and half a box of chicken strips topped off with one bag of milk from the fridge.
"Alright, let's get this outside," Arlana chattered with her best friend, her four-year-old who was pushing the opposite side.
Perhaps it was the pioneer blood surging through her veins, or more plausible, the dread of the man she lived with that incited the adrenaline pumping in her veins. Unfastening the patio door, Arlana thrust the bin over the ledge forcibly, letting it glide onto the grass.
***
PERHAPS ARLANA OUGHT to glance out the window more frequently. There wasn't a single snowflake on the ground. In fact, the air was unseasonably mild, like a pleasant spring day. Worst of all, it was raining, great droplets ricocheting off the top of the powder-grey lid.
Jorken was going to be livid.
Heading upstairs with the flashlight's beam lighting the way, Arlana breathed a silent prayer for the safety and well being of her meagre groceries, not just a little embarrassed at how pathetic she was.
They hadn't reached the top of the staircase when the lights came back on.
"See Mummy? I told you I had a great idea leaving all the lights on so we know when we get the electricity back."
He had a point.
"Good job...but we have to bring the groceries in again."
It was three days away from Arlana's birthday and the truth was that she didn't know if electricians would be working on New Year's Eve. It was prudent to err on the side of caution, wasn't it? Not to take the risk? If they had lost their groceries, she never would have heard the end of it.
Standing in the rain, Arlana pushed while Aziel pulled.
The youngster giggled, "You're crazy Mum!"
He wasn't being disrespectful; Aziel had a kind heart.
What must the neighbours be thinking?
As swiftly as she was able, Arlana restocked the small freezer on top of their refrigerator, attempting to recollect the precise position everything had been when Jorken had last opened the freezer.
Stress.
Jorken was anal retentive and their lives revolved around his whims.
***
AZIEL SETTLED DOWN on the couch, snuggling up in a fuzzy throw, his head supported on a Disney's Frozen pillow. He had wanted to stay up to welcome in the New Year for the first time, yet by 9 pm he was fast asleep, his hand tucked beneath his chin.
Arlana switched off his cartoons, then reached for her laptop.
Losing electricity for three and a half hours had given her much to think of. Arlana had assumed she was ready in case of an emergency. Sure, unlike her sister Jaira, she didn't have a stockpile, but she had food to last nearly a week.
That had all changed when the electricity went off. None of it could be eaten without the electricity needed to turn on the stove. What good was raw hamburger and packages of pasta if you can't cook them? The townhouse she lived in did not allow backyard fires and even if they did, she honestly had no idea how to cook macaroni on an open fire. Gone were the days of her ancestors. Modern conveniences were all she knew and they would not feed her son in an emergency.
Time was passing much too quickly, just days away from her birthday. It seemed like yesterday she had feared to turn the big seventeen. Where had the time gone?
Arlana thought again of her novel - she needed it published more than ever. Her father, one of the main characters, now had snow-white hair. Each day she endured was gone forever. Soon, she too would be forgotten. What would Aziel's children and grandchildren remember of her? Would they know her name?
Melancholy thoughts enveloped Arlana on New Year's Eve. It was up to her to create that change. She'd learned the hard way that no one was coming to rescue her.
Too long she had been desolate. Jorken always apologized, but she had discovered that they were just words. He loved keeping her isolated, away from friends and family. The butterfly she once was, now a reclusive hermit, but not by choice.
Staring at the blank white screen, the sound of rain tapping on the windowpane behind her head, Arlana allowed her mind to wander.