First Day of Snow
Brian woke to the grey light of dawn. He rolled over in his bed, pulling the sheets and covers with him. He looked out the window. It was frosted with grey fug. He set his feet on the floor, cringing slightly at the coldness of it, and walked over to the window. He wiped a pane clear, and saw that the hillside was covered with snow. Pure, white, snow.
Brian dress quickly and rushed outside. He laughed and giggled like a child, rolling and jumping in the white gold, diamonds. He felt alone and free, in a new creation of white and silence.
Brian rushed to take care of the chickens. He started the diesel generator that powered the heat lamps in the coops, and mixed in some corn. Cracked corn makes heat. Keeps them warm, he remembered an old man saying to him in the feed store. He went to groom and feed the horses, filling their troughs with extra hay and warm water. He set their blankets over their broad backs, caressing and kissing their velvety heads.
Lisa was dreaming. Children…children with bright eyes and fat, pink cheeks. Chubby knees…clumsy steps holding on to my hand. She opened her eyes. The day was too dim to be real. She seemed to have moved effortlessly from blurry sunlight to blurry winter dawn. She sat up, and draped the rode she had set on the headboard over her shoulders. She went over to the window. Everything was white and still, a single moment held in eternity. Lisa was jolted from her woolgathering by a splat against the window. White slush suddenly obscured her perfect world. She opened the window, leaning out into the cold. She was vaguely aware of her body, and how her breasts were threatening to slip out from the top of her nightgown.
"Oi!" someone called from the street below. She looked and saw Brian, waving a red-gloved hand. Lisa smiled and laughed. "Come on down! Its beautiful!"
"Okay!" she called. She rushed and dressed, cursing herself for not having a pair of snowpants. Oh well, its not that deep. Plus, they make my butt look big. She slipped on her favourite pair of jeans and a sweater. She grabbed her hat and scarf, seized her keys from the ring, and rushed out the door, only to dash back in momentarily to grab her jacket.
They walked together, white clouds of smoke trailing behind them. They went to the park and sat on a cold, wet bench, and watched the children enjoy their brief liberation from the drudgery of school. Lisa felt a pang of sadness.
"To think…I, of all people, hated school."
"I though you loved it."
She smiled, then took her hands from her pockets and breathed on them, rubbing them together for heat.
"I loved the learning. I hated the mob."
" 'Man can relate to one another in two ways: as an organized religious or social community, or as a mob'." He frowned. "Public school produces the worst type of mob: a mob of children, given to wickedness and passion and the utmost of heartlessness."
"Nice. I never knew you liked A. Huxley enough to quote him."
"Paraphrase, really. I couldn't remember the actual quote. Just like you couldn't remember that his first name is 'Aldous'."
Lisa chuckled, then looked down at her feet.
"I don't think any less of you for not knowing that."
"No," she said, shaking her head, "I was just thinking."
"About what?"
She looked off at the children playing in the snow.
"Children."
The statement stunned Brian. He was all at once filled with joy and dread, something of the same terror Lisa had felt. Producing something of me but not me. A child. My Child. Our Child. He looked at Lisa, his eyes anxious but determined. She smiled and raised one eyebrow, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
They picked Maggie up from snowboarding with her friends on the other side of Mt. Springfield, then took Eric home from the DeGeorge's.
"Oh, Lisa! Nice to see you! Hiya, Brian!" Marge greeted.
"Hi mom."
"Mrs. Simpson."
"Oh, Brian, please."
They stepped inside. Eric dashed off to his room to work on a fanfic he was writing. Maggie slouched off to the kitchen.
"So, what are you guys doing for dinner?" Marge asked.
"Oh, I dunno."
"Well, how about staying? Homie'll be home soon and I made meatloaf."
"Mmm…meatloaf…I mean, um, no thank you," Brian covered, having elicited an angry murmur from Lisa.
"Oh, and I have uh…mashed potatoes, and asparagus, and brocolli, and cauliflower…and…salt and pepper…oh, please stay!"
"Okay!" Lisa said.
"Whoo…hoo!" Brian said, realising that Lisa was still acting perturbed.
"Just for that, no meatloaf."
"D'oh!"
"And get your own catchphrase!"
"Sigh…"
Maggie re-entered the living room, a bag of chips in one hand, a can of soda in the other. She plopped down on the couch, and flipped on the TV.
Homer came home from work and they sat and ate dinner. They talked about work, and how Homer should retire, having worked for twenty five years at that plant.
"Yeah, but it hasn't been a steady twnty-five. I've been an astronaut, a body guard, a manager, a Kwik-E-Mart clerk, a private security guy, a trucker, a vigilante, a oil field worker, a missionary…"
"This could take a while," Maggie groaned.
Brian jerked slightly, feeling something on his leg. He noticed that Lisa had set her hand on his thigh. The simple act set his mind whirring. My, she's frisky today. What's gotten into her. I love. Yes, I do want her. No, were not married. Two more months. 'If not now…then when?'
Brian drove Lisa back to her apartment. They sat in silence for a moment. Brian seemed to be meditating whether or not he should put the car in 'park'.
"Are you coming in?" Lisa asked. Brian let out a shuddering sigh.
"Okay."
They walked up to the room. Lisa unlocked the door, then stepped away from it. Brian knew it was his last chance. But…a part of him knew he wanted to. He knew it was a more understandable failing, in the end. He opened the door, then looked at Lisa. She had begun to feel anxious as well.
"We can't stop it now, Lisa." He said, smiling comfortingly. She dashed through the door, and he after her. He closed the door and locked it. He turned, and was caught full-on by her kiss. She set her head on his shoulder. She was trembling. He set his hand on her cheek, and lifted her head. They gazed into each other's eyes for the longest time. He took her hand, and she led him to the bedroom.
"No words to say,
no words to convey,
this feeling inside, I have for you.
Deep in my heart,
Safe from the gods
Of intellect and reason.
Leaving me at a loss,
For words to express my feeling.
Deep in my heart.
Deep in my heart…
Look at me losing control, whoa-whoa.
Thinking I had it all, oh-oh.
With the feelings this strong,
I'm no longer the master of my emotions.
No words to say,
No words to convey,
This feeling inside, I have for you.
Deep in my heart.
Safe from the gods
Of intellect and reason.
Leaving me at a loss,
For words to express my feelings.
Deep in my heart.
Deep in my heart.
Look at me losing control, whoa-oh.
Thinking I had it all, oh-oh.
With the feelings this strong,
I'm no longer the master of my emotions.
No words to say,
No words to convey,
This feeling inside, I have…for you.
-Tracy Chapman, "For You"