Chapter 2 - The Dawn of Hope
Sam found herself swallowing frequently and shaking as she took the rental SUV up the long track through autumnal yellow and gold-tinted wooded hills to Jack's cabin. When she realised it couldn't be much further, she stopped for a full fifteen minutes before forcing herself to continue. As she pulled up on some open ground near the dark brown wooden cabin, her nerves had the better of her again. However, after a few minutes it was apparent that the place was deserted, and she ventured out. Walking slowly around, she noticed a large stack of logs under a rudimentary shelter next to a small barn. From the tyre tracks leading into it, this was obviously where he parked his truck, but it was empty now. Peering through the open door, she saw tools hanging on the side wall - a sizeable tree saw, an axe, rake, shovel, fork and large yard broom. Stacked against the far wall was a set of spare wheels with large chunky tyres, with snow chains draped across them. A stout work bench with woodworking tools stood along the opposite wall, under which were a chain saw and a leaf blower. His renowned fishing gear lay on a shelf higher up. Outside on the other side of the barn was an upturned rowing boat supported on vertical wooden stumps to keep it clear of the ground and termites.
She turned round and walked across to the cabin, noticing the old but well- polished oil lanterns hanging under the porch eaves. 'So this is the kingdom he cares so much about.' she thought. As she got nearer the fading smell of wood preservative hung in the chill air, scented with pine oil. She strolled around to the rear and came across a wooden jetty extending into a small inlet of a much larger lake. She stood silently on the planks, slowly taking in the magnificent view.
Her reverie was interrupted by the arrival of a large, tan-coloured shaggy dog which stopped as soon as it caught sight of her. It dropped the limp jack-rabbit it had carried in its jaw, stared at her and barked loudly. Sam stood still, not knowing whether to approach it in an apparently friendly manner, or stay rooted to the spot in the hope that it would go away. They stood like this for some moments before the dog decided for her and barked once more before turning around suddenly and rushing off along the lake shore.
"Sam!" *his* voice called loudly from out of sight. "Get your scrawny ass over here now! Sam!" Sam stood in open-mouthed amazement. Welcome or not, there was no way she would respond to such an ill-mannered form of address. She started to walk back to the cabin when Jack called again, "Sam! Come on!" followed by a piercing whistle. The dog came bustling back through the trees and went back to its abandoned rabbit, sitting and panting.
"Good girl!" said Jack as he strode round the corner. Looking up, he stopped in total astonishment. "Good God! Carter?" They stood motionless, staring at each other in astonishment until the dog barked again, when Jack looked down and patted its head.
"Of all the brass-plated, iron-clad nerve!" she cried. "You named your mutt after me?"
"Kinda." said Jack. "Sam, meet Sam. Hey! If you ask her nicely, she'll maybe let you share her rabbit this evening. Assuming that you're staying, of course? Are you alone?"
Sam was speechless. Of all the scenarios that had played through her mind on the long journey here, this was number five hundred on a list of four hundred and ninety eight. His question as to whether she had brought company took the wind from her sails though, and she looked away, shaking her head.
"Well, if you don't want to stay, the nearest motel's about seventy miles away. I can draw you a map..." he faltered.
"No." she said firmly. "No, I came prepared for anything." 'Well, almost...' she thought.
"OK." he said simply. "Welcome to the Ponderosa. Oil lamps, log range and fire - got hot water today, though. It's getting kind of chilly this time of year, so I hope you got some practical clothing with you."
"Is there any other kind?" she replied in a sarcastic tone, setting off towards her parked car. Jack walked over to the front door and unlocked it. He turned to watch her sauntering towards him, her bag slung casually over her shoulder.
As she entered, he pointed out the four rooms. "Kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, lounge. I'll change the bed so you can be comfortable tonight at least." he said. She made to protest but he just waved a hand and disappeared into that room. Sam put down her bag and took in the surroundings. The lounge was the largest room, dominated by a grand mantelpiece with space for a sizeable log fire. An old brass kettle on a stand was perched on the hearth, and on the shelf above was a picture taken years before of his ex- wife Sara standing with their son Charlie. The large leather couch was of indeterminate age, but with well-worn contours marking the times possibly a generation or two of O'Neill's had sat and lain there. An antique wooden table and chairs occupied the corner space.
The canine Sam sat down in the doorway, dropping her rabbit onto the floor again and whining. "Don't let her bring that in until I've skinned and dressed it!" Jack yelled from the bedroom. "She'll have to wait until I've finished here and then lit the fire. Help yourself to anything you can find in the meantime."
The shock of their meeting was beginning to wear off, and Sam was determined that she was not going to be a passive visitor here. It was therefore a total surprise to Jack when he emerged from the back room a little later to see her out by the lake shore with a large knife from his kitchen, expertly skinning and preparing the rabbit for the pot, with quadruped Sam sitting impatiently by her with adoring eyes and half a yard of tongue hanging out.
"We all had to do aircrew survival 101, Jack." she said calmly as she re- entered with the pot and her new companion for life on full alert lest it go astray.
Jack stared at his dog and muttered "Trollop!". Sam 2 looked away shame- faced but soon returned her gaze to the supper. Sam 1 couldn't help herself and laughed out loud. She hadn't felt this good in days - weeks, even.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Time flew, and it was by the soft light of an oil lamp that they ate dinner in the corner of the lounge, the rest of the room lit by the yellow glow of the fire in the hearth. Sam 2 lay gently snoring on the rug by the foot of the sofa.
Their conversation had been light, non-essential banter that was just pleasant, neither daring to touch on anything substantive that might ruin the unexpected good atmosphere.
"She's a lurcher." said Jack, after Sam's obvious question. "Cross between a greyhound and a Collie, with probably some kind of terrier thrown in for good measure. The gypsies in Europe used to breed them for hunting. I've no idea how she came to be here - we just kind of gravitated towards each other and she stayed. She's great at hunting biscuits in the house, by the way, so don't leave food within reach. She'll burn your soul with those eyes but then steal it anyway when you're not looking."
"And the name?" said Sam archly.
"Reminds me of good times." replied Jack in a soft voice. But before she could react, he changed the subject. "Did you switch off your cell phone? There's no signal round hereabouts. Don't waste the battery."
She asked the other question that had been on her mind. "Where's your truck? I didn't see it parked anywhere."
"Lent it to Will. He has a place about fifteen miles *that way*." he said, waving his arm towards the fireplace. "He'll have it back in the morning. I'll need it to get to work anyway."
"You have *work* round here?"
"Kind of. Unpaid, except for the trade-offs I can make with the folks I do jobs for. I hope the IRS doesn't send in the spies! You can come and see for yourself, if you like - unless you're planning to leave in the morning? You can stay as long or as short as you like."
Sam paused and drew breath. "I'd like to stick around for a little while, if that's OK with you? I mean, you can throw me out any time you don't want.."
"You're welcome, Sam." replied Jack. "I think you'll probably tire of the surroundings and lack of facilities before too long."
"What makes you think that?" she said, staring back at him.
"Oh, I recall you saying a year or so back that you missed being treated like a lady." 'When I lost you.' he thought, the first underlying, searing emotions seeping into his conscious mind. Seeing that she remembered it too, and the consequences, he quickly got up and said, "Coffee? Ain't nothing else on offer, I'm afraid. I'll have to speak severely to the head cook."
"Coffee it is, then." she smiled.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Sam didn't think she would be able to get to sleep easily, and was therefore surprised when she awoke in the early hours to the sounds of Jack's voice coming from the sofa. She sat bolt upright from under the thick quilt and immediately felt the chill of the night air. Pulling her slippers on and donning her fleece jacket, she prised open the bedroom door and crept out. In the moonlight she saw him tossing and turning, prone on the sofa, the blankets in a heap on the floor. Every few moments clear words could be distinguished.
"No. Can't. Not again." Then a space, followed by, "Only positive integers allowed and the power of n higher than two..."
'What the hell?' Sam thought. 'Fermat's last theorem?' Her mind raced as to why Jack could even place words in the same order as those in the mathematical conundrum. Then her blood ran cold as his ramblings continued.
"Sam! Don't die! Please God, don't let her die, not now. Not now. She's happy with him. Got who she wants... Don't die! Take me... No!"
She could see the sweat across his face as he turned his head from side to side. Suddenly he became still and his breathing slowed to normal. She realised that she had been holding her breath, and released it slowly. She lifted the fallen blankets and gently placed them back over him. Taking a handkerchief from her jacket pocket, she very carefully mopped his brow, but his sleep seemed to be deeper now and he didn't stir.
Eventually she felt the cold getting to her and crept back to her room, to find her namesake lying on the bedcovers, eyes pleading to be allowed to stay. She smiled and squeezed in alongside, revelling in the warmth. But her mind was racing, forbidding sleep to come. Eventually though, it did, her last drowsy thoughts being the realisation that for the first time in months, she had been consumed with someone else's problems.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Sam found herself swallowing frequently and shaking as she took the rental SUV up the long track through autumnal yellow and gold-tinted wooded hills to Jack's cabin. When she realised it couldn't be much further, she stopped for a full fifteen minutes before forcing herself to continue. As she pulled up on some open ground near the dark brown wooden cabin, her nerves had the better of her again. However, after a few minutes it was apparent that the place was deserted, and she ventured out. Walking slowly around, she noticed a large stack of logs under a rudimentary shelter next to a small barn. From the tyre tracks leading into it, this was obviously where he parked his truck, but it was empty now. Peering through the open door, she saw tools hanging on the side wall - a sizeable tree saw, an axe, rake, shovel, fork and large yard broom. Stacked against the far wall was a set of spare wheels with large chunky tyres, with snow chains draped across them. A stout work bench with woodworking tools stood along the opposite wall, under which were a chain saw and a leaf blower. His renowned fishing gear lay on a shelf higher up. Outside on the other side of the barn was an upturned rowing boat supported on vertical wooden stumps to keep it clear of the ground and termites.
She turned round and walked across to the cabin, noticing the old but well- polished oil lanterns hanging under the porch eaves. 'So this is the kingdom he cares so much about.' she thought. As she got nearer the fading smell of wood preservative hung in the chill air, scented with pine oil. She strolled around to the rear and came across a wooden jetty extending into a small inlet of a much larger lake. She stood silently on the planks, slowly taking in the magnificent view.
Her reverie was interrupted by the arrival of a large, tan-coloured shaggy dog which stopped as soon as it caught sight of her. It dropped the limp jack-rabbit it had carried in its jaw, stared at her and barked loudly. Sam stood still, not knowing whether to approach it in an apparently friendly manner, or stay rooted to the spot in the hope that it would go away. They stood like this for some moments before the dog decided for her and barked once more before turning around suddenly and rushing off along the lake shore.
"Sam!" *his* voice called loudly from out of sight. "Get your scrawny ass over here now! Sam!" Sam stood in open-mouthed amazement. Welcome or not, there was no way she would respond to such an ill-mannered form of address. She started to walk back to the cabin when Jack called again, "Sam! Come on!" followed by a piercing whistle. The dog came bustling back through the trees and went back to its abandoned rabbit, sitting and panting.
"Good girl!" said Jack as he strode round the corner. Looking up, he stopped in total astonishment. "Good God! Carter?" They stood motionless, staring at each other in astonishment until the dog barked again, when Jack looked down and patted its head.
"Of all the brass-plated, iron-clad nerve!" she cried. "You named your mutt after me?"
"Kinda." said Jack. "Sam, meet Sam. Hey! If you ask her nicely, she'll maybe let you share her rabbit this evening. Assuming that you're staying, of course? Are you alone?"
Sam was speechless. Of all the scenarios that had played through her mind on the long journey here, this was number five hundred on a list of four hundred and ninety eight. His question as to whether she had brought company took the wind from her sails though, and she looked away, shaking her head.
"Well, if you don't want to stay, the nearest motel's about seventy miles away. I can draw you a map..." he faltered.
"No." she said firmly. "No, I came prepared for anything." 'Well, almost...' she thought.
"OK." he said simply. "Welcome to the Ponderosa. Oil lamps, log range and fire - got hot water today, though. It's getting kind of chilly this time of year, so I hope you got some practical clothing with you."
"Is there any other kind?" she replied in a sarcastic tone, setting off towards her parked car. Jack walked over to the front door and unlocked it. He turned to watch her sauntering towards him, her bag slung casually over her shoulder.
As she entered, he pointed out the four rooms. "Kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, lounge. I'll change the bed so you can be comfortable tonight at least." he said. She made to protest but he just waved a hand and disappeared into that room. Sam put down her bag and took in the surroundings. The lounge was the largest room, dominated by a grand mantelpiece with space for a sizeable log fire. An old brass kettle on a stand was perched on the hearth, and on the shelf above was a picture taken years before of his ex- wife Sara standing with their son Charlie. The large leather couch was of indeterminate age, but with well-worn contours marking the times possibly a generation or two of O'Neill's had sat and lain there. An antique wooden table and chairs occupied the corner space.
The canine Sam sat down in the doorway, dropping her rabbit onto the floor again and whining. "Don't let her bring that in until I've skinned and dressed it!" Jack yelled from the bedroom. "She'll have to wait until I've finished here and then lit the fire. Help yourself to anything you can find in the meantime."
The shock of their meeting was beginning to wear off, and Sam was determined that she was not going to be a passive visitor here. It was therefore a total surprise to Jack when he emerged from the back room a little later to see her out by the lake shore with a large knife from his kitchen, expertly skinning and preparing the rabbit for the pot, with quadruped Sam sitting impatiently by her with adoring eyes and half a yard of tongue hanging out.
"We all had to do aircrew survival 101, Jack." she said calmly as she re- entered with the pot and her new companion for life on full alert lest it go astray.
Jack stared at his dog and muttered "Trollop!". Sam 2 looked away shame- faced but soon returned her gaze to the supper. Sam 1 couldn't help herself and laughed out loud. She hadn't felt this good in days - weeks, even.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Time flew, and it was by the soft light of an oil lamp that they ate dinner in the corner of the lounge, the rest of the room lit by the yellow glow of the fire in the hearth. Sam 2 lay gently snoring on the rug by the foot of the sofa.
Their conversation had been light, non-essential banter that was just pleasant, neither daring to touch on anything substantive that might ruin the unexpected good atmosphere.
"She's a lurcher." said Jack, after Sam's obvious question. "Cross between a greyhound and a Collie, with probably some kind of terrier thrown in for good measure. The gypsies in Europe used to breed them for hunting. I've no idea how she came to be here - we just kind of gravitated towards each other and she stayed. She's great at hunting biscuits in the house, by the way, so don't leave food within reach. She'll burn your soul with those eyes but then steal it anyway when you're not looking."
"And the name?" said Sam archly.
"Reminds me of good times." replied Jack in a soft voice. But before she could react, he changed the subject. "Did you switch off your cell phone? There's no signal round hereabouts. Don't waste the battery."
She asked the other question that had been on her mind. "Where's your truck? I didn't see it parked anywhere."
"Lent it to Will. He has a place about fifteen miles *that way*." he said, waving his arm towards the fireplace. "He'll have it back in the morning. I'll need it to get to work anyway."
"You have *work* round here?"
"Kind of. Unpaid, except for the trade-offs I can make with the folks I do jobs for. I hope the IRS doesn't send in the spies! You can come and see for yourself, if you like - unless you're planning to leave in the morning? You can stay as long or as short as you like."
Sam paused and drew breath. "I'd like to stick around for a little while, if that's OK with you? I mean, you can throw me out any time you don't want.."
"You're welcome, Sam." replied Jack. "I think you'll probably tire of the surroundings and lack of facilities before too long."
"What makes you think that?" she said, staring back at him.
"Oh, I recall you saying a year or so back that you missed being treated like a lady." 'When I lost you.' he thought, the first underlying, searing emotions seeping into his conscious mind. Seeing that she remembered it too, and the consequences, he quickly got up and said, "Coffee? Ain't nothing else on offer, I'm afraid. I'll have to speak severely to the head cook."
"Coffee it is, then." she smiled.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Sam didn't think she would be able to get to sleep easily, and was therefore surprised when she awoke in the early hours to the sounds of Jack's voice coming from the sofa. She sat bolt upright from under the thick quilt and immediately felt the chill of the night air. Pulling her slippers on and donning her fleece jacket, she prised open the bedroom door and crept out. In the moonlight she saw him tossing and turning, prone on the sofa, the blankets in a heap on the floor. Every few moments clear words could be distinguished.
"No. Can't. Not again." Then a space, followed by, "Only positive integers allowed and the power of n higher than two..."
'What the hell?' Sam thought. 'Fermat's last theorem?' Her mind raced as to why Jack could even place words in the same order as those in the mathematical conundrum. Then her blood ran cold as his ramblings continued.
"Sam! Don't die! Please God, don't let her die, not now. Not now. She's happy with him. Got who she wants... Don't die! Take me... No!"
She could see the sweat across his face as he turned his head from side to side. Suddenly he became still and his breathing slowed to normal. She realised that she had been holding her breath, and released it slowly. She lifted the fallen blankets and gently placed them back over him. Taking a handkerchief from her jacket pocket, she very carefully mopped his brow, but his sleep seemed to be deeper now and he didn't stir.
Eventually she felt the cold getting to her and crept back to her room, to find her namesake lying on the bedcovers, eyes pleading to be allowed to stay. She smiled and squeezed in alongside, revelling in the warmth. But her mind was racing, forbidding sleep to come. Eventually though, it did, her last drowsy thoughts being the realisation that for the first time in months, she had been consumed with someone else's problems.
XXXXXXXXXXXX