Snuffed

Winter had settled over the Nebraska landscape, leaving the plain covered in a sheet of white. Anne longed for the warm breezes of Spring to arrive and herald the greening of the Earth, but Winter hadn't even technically began. The short days and long nights were less than comforting to Anne. The cold and darkness crept into her soul, reminding her of the past despair and heartache she had suffered in her life. Her birthday had fast approached and brought presents with that were memories of faceless parents and what if's to plague her imagination.

Anne hoped that the Cuthberts wouldn't realize her birthday was the 4th, today. December was always busy and what were the chances that Marilla would remember such an insignificant day. Afterall, it was just another Tuesday on the calendar, thought Anne to herself as she scrubbed the wooden floor in the kitchen. Birthdays are really for the children, not for me. Anyways, I wouldn't know what to wish for when I would blow out the candles on my cake, reasoned Anne.

"Anne!" exclaimed Marilla as she came into the kitchen, "You are such a dear child for cleaning the floors without my prompting."

"I thought it would be nice for you to take the afternoon off, Marilla," lied Anne as she plunged her rag back into the metal bucket of sudsy water.

She didn't want Marilla to see what a mess she had made in the previously tidy kitchen. The fiasco had begun while she tried to make Matthew some cream puffs for his coffee break later that afternoon. Anne knew Marilla would be furious if she saw the splattered batter wasted on the floor and cupboards after she had accidentally dropped the bowl on the floor. She now had a mess and nothing special to serve sweet Matthew. Anne sat her rump on the floor and gazed out the window past Marilla. Large snowflakes floated in the gray sky coating the already frozen terrain.

"Anne, I think we are in for another storm. I suppose you should fetch some extra wood and corn cobs for the stoves. We wouldn't want to freeze or starve now, would we?" politely ordered Marilla as she put on her faded pink apron and tied a large bow in the back.

Anne nodded her head and took the dirty water and rags to the back door. Thankfully, most of the cleaning was finished and Marilla wasn't any the wiser. Slipping her feet into a pair of black rubber boots, she managed to push her arms into the tattered gray coat she wore around the place for chores. Anne shivered when she looked outside at the snow falling, gradually getting heavier and heavier. It would be beautiful if she were someone else, but for some reason snow had been associated with death in her mind since she was a child . With a loud humph, she grabbed her blue scarf, wrapped it around her ears and braided hair, and shoved open the door. The Arctic air rushed around her, making her teeth chatter and her hands shake as she stuffed them into a pair of knitted gloves that matched her scarf. The cows were in the barn and Matthew had talked about shodding the horses' feet this afternoon. Anne would look there first before bringing in the fuel for Marilla.

Cold snow sifted its way over the tops of her boots and down around her ankles as she shuffled through the glittering crystals toward the barn. Lumps and mounds of white now stood where equipment, flowers, and buckets had once been. It was amazing to Anne how one form of weather could completely transform the only world a person knows into something foreign and new. Snow must possess a magical power to tranquilize the world- making everything appear silent and somber.

The heavy door of the barn dragged against the snow, but Anne managed to squeeze inside the cozy shelter. Aromas of animals and hay filled the dimly lit room. Matthew stood next to the bay horse that was his pride. The elderly man ran his aged and rough hands over the mares brushed hairs. He seemed at peace with the world and himself, Anne secretly longed for an acceptance of herself like Matthew had. He had little to say, but when he did speak only true and reflected wisdom greeted the recipient. She was always one for rambling on and on, saying what came to her mind. Anne was known for her tongue, but she really just wanted to be understood and loved. Matthew knew.

A shrill whinny of the horse announced Anne's arrival into the barn. Matthew looked up at the girl and she swore tears were in his eyes. Anne dreamed that he was pining for a great lost love. She had no concept in her red head that he was deliberating about telling her a tale of love and how it was snuffed out by death.

Anne walked next to Matthew and patted his shoulder with her gloved hand. She didn't feel the urge to talk continuosly around him. He was a great comfort to her, a kindred spirit. Anne stood next to him, almost matching his slumped height, and looked at the horse. A quiet bubble of space surrounded the patriarchial couple, leaving unspoken thoughts to fill the void.

Finally, Matthew broke the tension, "Anne, I have something I need to give you. I was going to save it for Christmas, but seeing that it is your birthday and all, I thought you could get it now."

Matthew dug a small folded handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Anne. His hands shook as she gently took the present from him. Anne stuffed her gloves into her pockets and rolled the soft cotton fabric over in her hands, trying to guess what lay wrapped inside. Her fingers gently opened the edges to display an old skeleton key. At first, she just looked at it and then slowly ran her finger along the cool black iron. She picked up the relic and noticed a delicate, shiny, gold chain looped through the eye. Matthew gently took the necklace and undid the clasp to help her put it on. Anne turned around and lifted her hair while he fidgeted with the chain. A jingle later, the key hung around her neck and a smile crept across her face.

"Matthew, I don't really know what to say," hesitated a surprised Anne, "It's amazing. Did you make it yourself?"

Matthew nodded and then proceeded, "It's not much, but Anne, that key should always hang near your heart. It was from the place you were born."

A look of shock replace the surprise in Anne's eyes. What could Matthew know? Anne stood silent and listened to the man stutter.

"Anne... I knew your parents... I mean... they lived down the road... you know the place you called sad... the key goes to that house... you were born there... ," explained Matthew.

"This is the key to the house where I was born?" questioned Anne as she flipped the key carefully through her fingers.

"Yes child. Your parents gave me that key to look in on the place when they would go to visit family or take a trip to Lincoln. I have held onto it all these years," Matthew said to his shoes because he couldn't look into Anne's teary eyes.

"Oh Matthew!" exclaimed Anne as she ran to the gentleman and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "This is the best present I have ever received. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it. Marilla would have told me it was in bad taste to give someone an old dingy key. I did buy a gold chain for it," whispered Matthew into Anne's ear as he relished the loving embrace.

Anne stepped back and gazed into his wise and thoughtful eyes, "Would you tell me about my parents?"

"Sure maybe later, but not today. Today is your day," smiled Matthew.

Anne gazed down at her present. It wasn't a beautiful diamond or even a ruby, but to her it was worth more than any precious stone. She finally had a connection to her past and someone who could help her learn about it. She clasped the key and thanked Matthew again. He nodded silently and went back to brushing the horse's coat. Anne took her cue and gathered an armful of corn cobs from the bin in the corner. Marilla was sure to be wondering what she was up to.

At supper time, Marilla had set the table with her best plates and red checked table cloth. They usually used the plain plates and a table cloth with a few stains on it. Anne wondered if company was coming when she noticed two extra places set at the table. She started to prod Marilla for a clue when a loud knocking came from the front porch.

"Anne, go see who could be here at this hour," ordered Marilla.

"Yes m'am."

Anne scuttled to the front door, turned the knob, and revealed Diana Barry and Gilbert Blythe standing in the snow holding presents.

"Diana! Gilbert! What brings you here?" asked Anne.

"Anne you know I can't resist a party. Happy Birthday!" Diana said as she hugged her amazed friend.

"I just had to come and check on you. I didn't want you to harbor any possums or skunks from the snow," teased Gilbert.

Anne shot him a look of disapproval, but soon she was laughing with a confused Diana. Anne ushered them in from the cold and took their coats and hats. Marilla met them at the dining room and encouraged them to have a seat.

Anne sat across from Marilla and next to Diana. Gilbert politely sat next to Marilla, while Matthew sat at the head of the table. Chatter and friendly banter accompanied the fried chicken, boiled potatoes, gravy, and canned beans. Marilla excused herself from the table and soon returned with a double layer chocolate cake, Anne's favorite. Matthew shut the lights off and lit the candle on the cake with a match from his pocket. An off key chorus sang "Happy Birthday" to Anne, while she sat a little dumbfounded and surprised.

The flickering light illuminated only Anne's face as she blew out the candle with her breath. In that tiny instant, she had snuffed out regret and longing for the past. Hope and an understanding of her background made her realize that life was worth celebrating.

The lights came back on, causing Anne's eyes to adjust to the new brightness. She was finally seeing how enjoyable life was and that she already had a family. Anne smiled at Diana and looked to Gilbert just in time to see a wink. He was always up to something, laughed Anne.

Marilla served everyone a huge piece of cake, making sure Anne got the first one. The night seemed absolutely perfect and Anne feared when it would end. Soon empty plates sat around the table and Gilbert excused himself. He reappeared seconds later with an armful of presents. He handed Anne a rather large box that was loosely covered in fabric.

"Anne, this is from me. I hope you don't mind, but I decided you needed a surprise of your own," beamed Gilbert.

The weight in the box shifted, almost causing Anne to drop it. She sat there, almost reluctant to open the gift. She was afraid of what she might find.

"You better hurry, Anne-girl," coaxed Gilbert.

She slowly untied the flowered fabric and found a box with small holes punched along the sides. Air holes! Anne pulled back the folded box flaps and revealed a small calico kitten. The frightened cat looked up at Anne and mewed loudly. The look on Anne's face had everyone laughing, including Marilla.

"I hope you like it Anne. I can guarantee you that this is a real bonefide cat, I even saw her birth," joked Gilbert.

Nobody seemed to understand the hidden clues in his words, but Anne did.

"I told Gilbert it was a fine idea. We have needed a good mouser around here for quite some time now. I hope you like it Anne," said Marilla.

Anne smiled and nodded. She carefully took the kitten out of the box and held it up high in the air, "Patches. That will be your name."