way around the sofa, holding on to it with her free hand. From there it would be a straight shot to the kitchen, where she remembered leaving a flashlight on the counter, next to the coffee maker. Slowly, with one hand outstretched and searching for obstacles while the other hand clutched the afghan close to her throat, she made her way forward. The sound of her socks shuffling whispered across the floor and she could hear the click of the doberman's claws as he kept pace with her. She envied his keen nose, sure he could smell where he was going far more easily than she could see.
After a few moments she supposed she must have made it to the kitchen and she started shuffling left. She sighed with relief when her hip finally bumped into the counter. Then it was another minute of fumbling across the counter top until her hand found the flashlight. It fell over with a clatter and Charlotte grasped it with both hands, turning the cylinder until she found the switch.
A beam of white light shot into her eyes, and squeezing them shut, she tilted the light away from her. She opened her eyes again, blinking at the red spots that clouded her vision. After a few more moments, her eyes adjusted and she flashed the beam around the kitchen. She relaxed. Now that she could see she was much less anxious.
“Let's go have a look outside.”
Jumper, apparently reacting to the word “outside”, stood up and bolted to the back door. Shining the light through the window only showed her another beam of light and her own face peering back at her, darkened and more sinister. She lowered the flashlight and pressed her face close to the glass. She could barely make out the snow coming down. She reached down and twisted the door knob, and pulled the door open.
Immediately, a gust of wind burst through the doorway, blowing a sheet of white into the room. Charlotte pushed the door closed, leaning against it to combat the wind. Once she had the door closed she retrieved the flashlight, which she had dropped, and shined the light on a small drift of snow on the floor. Jumper came into the circle of light, sniffed at the white stuff, and gave it a lick. Charlotte shook her head at the pile of snow. There was no way she was going to go out there to start the generator.
She was thinking of the snow, the way the wind was blowing, and how cold it was getting, when the air began to buzz. For a moment she thought that a bee or wasp had somehow survived the freezing temperatures. Never mind that it was the middle of January and bees would have been hibernating, or whatever it is they did in the winter. The buzzing grew louder, the air seemed to be vibrating with the sound, and within seconds, it was zipping across her exposed skin. She could feel the hairs on her arms standing up underneath the fabric of her sweater. The buzzing intensified, Jumper began to howl, and run in circles. If he'd still had his tail he would have been snapping at it. The buzzing was in her skull now, she could feel her teeth vibrating in her sockets, and she clapped her hands over her ears, dropping the flashlight again in the process. There was electricity in the air now, and she could smell burning ozone. Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, the skull-racking buzz ended abruptly. Charlotte didn't have time to appreciate the sudden silence, when there was a flash of bright blue light, like cold lightning striking close to the house. It lit up the air, and for a second she could clearly see the back deck, and the snow still coming down thickly in stark detail. Then it all went dark just as a massive BOOM exploded in the silence. The walls shook. The windows rattled, but held. Then it was quiet again. The sound of the wind filled the emptiness the explosion left behind.
“What the hell was that?” Charlotte whispered. The sound of her voice seemed much louder than it should have been. Jumper was leaning against her for comfort, and she took her own comfort from the heat of his body against her legs. She found the flashlight on the floor (I should just tie it to my wrist if I'm going to keep dropping it) and with the yellow light she tried to see outside again. Nothing but snow.
She'd once been caught outdoors in a summer thunderstorm when a bolt of lightning had struck the ground ten feet away from the pavilion she had taken shelter in. The light had been blinding and the thunder deafening, but what she had just experienced was ten times worse. Could it have been lightning? She had heard of thundersnow before, but that explanation didn't seem right. What about the buzzing, the electricity in the air before the light? She had never felt anything like that before.
With a sigh she turned away from the door and went to the closet. She put on her coat and found her hat and gloves in the pocket. She pulled another, heavier blanket from the shelf above the rack and then went to the kitchen to find her cell phone. She checked the time: 3:37 AM, and of course she had no signal. At least four hours until sunrise, and in the meantime she had no electricity, no heat. And as was typical for Charlotte, she hadn't thought to bring any of the firewood in. It was all neatly stacked on the back deck, covered in several inches of snow, no doubt. She thought she could survive the next few hours, if she stayed bundled up in her winter gear and blankets. When the sun came up she would get the generator going, and make sure she was better prepared for the coming days.
She went back to the sofa, propped the flashlight on the cushion next to her, pulled the blankets closer, and waited for the sun to come up.
3
Though she tried not to, she dozed off again, and when she next opened her eyes, a weak gray light illuminated the room. The first thing she thought of was the blinding blue light, and the boom that followed it. Was that a dream? Several hours later, and with a nap squeezed in, the whole experience seemed surreal. Charlotte blinked and groaned. Her neck was sore and her body was stiff from her seated position. She disentangled herself from the blankets, and slowly stood. Jumper was standing at the backdoor, and when he saw her moving he gave a short bark and wagged his tail stub.
“Hold on.” Through the glass door she could see that it was still snowing, though it was lighter and coming down almost vertically. There was a pile of melting snow on the floor in front of the door. Seeing it she was convinced that the light hadn't been a dream.
“Looks a little better out there.” Jumper whined and his entire rear end wagged in excitement. When she pulled the door open more snow fell in through the doorway. Her jaw dropped open. There had to be two feet of snow piled up in drifts against the house. Jumper sniffed at the snow and whined again. “I know,” Charlotte said. “But we both have to go out there.” She leaned forward, peering around the corner. There sat the generator where snow had drifted up against it. She groaned, realizing that she was going to have to dig it out in order to get it working. She looked down at her jeans and at the dog who looked absolutely miserable. He was doing the doggy version of the pee-pee dance, but obviously didn't want to brave the cold and wet. “Give me a minute,” she said, pushing the door closed. Jumper whined even more pathetically.
She went to the closet and pulled out her snow pants. They were a bright purple, and Sam laughed at her every time he saw them, but it didn't matter what color they were as long as they kept the snow from caking, then melting, into her pant legs. She opened the door again and stepped outside.
There was a light breeze, nothing like the night before, and she ignored it. Jumper waited in the doorway, refusing to move. After gently cajoling, encouraging and cursing the dog, she went back inside and physically pushed him out onto the deck, where he stood, hunched and whining deep in his throat. “Just a few minutes. As soon as I'm done, we'll go back inside.” She walked through snow up to her knees to the generator where it sat pressed close to the house. She saw the snow had not reached the height of the start button, but it did surround the body of the machine. Using her gloved hands, she started shoveling the snow away from the generator, only pausing when Jumper gave a quick bark. She opened the door so the shivering dog could go back inside, and then returned to her work. Finally, when the snow was cleared away, she paused to catch her breath. Despite the cold she was sweating in her layers of clothes from the effort. She pressed the button and after a moment the generator coughed and sputtered, then roared t
o life.
She slipped off her boots and snow pants at the door, and went around the house, turning off the lights and the TV which only showed a blue screen with “No Signal” in the corner.
Now Jumper was standing over his bowl, waiting patiently for her to fill it. She poured herself a bowl of cereal. While she ate, she considered her day. She would have to call Sam, let him know she was fine. Then her mother. Then she would have to see what the damage was. She knew she had enough fuel for three days if she didn't run any unnecessary appliances, and kept the heat down. Judging by the snow on the deck she figured it would take a few days for everyone to dig out, but she hoped the power would be back on by then. They were in the boonies, but depending on where the lines had gone down, it might not take very long for it to come back on. She figured at the very least the road would get cleared in the the next day or so. She could shovel out the drive way, and if it really came down to it and the electricity was off for longer than three days, she could drive in to town, and stay with her parents, dad's allergies, and mom's gentle nagging be damned.
She poured