Ice

A dust speck swirled, high in the winter sky. Carried by the wind, it sailed… danced. It met a drop of water and grew six beautiful arms—an intricate shape, crystallized by the freezing air.

It fell in slow motion, dancing to the ground with all the other snowflakes to form a white blanket on the earth.

Those who appreciate snow’s beauty and function were outnumbered by others who saw it as an inconvenience—a danger, even. Cold temperatures aside, the snow made travel difficult, and with the snow often came treacherous, slippery ice.

*

Penelope Brown was snuggled warmly beneath her floral duvet when the alarm went off at five a.m. on a wintery Monday morning. She slammed her hand on the button and growled but forced herself out of bed anyway. She needed the extra time to get the sidewalks and driveways ready—not just hers, but her beloved neighbor, Sam’s. For it had snowed last night.

After eating a breakfast burrito, she dressed in jeans and long woolen underwear. Then she layered a sweater and a coat and wrapped a scarf around her double chin. A striped Kansas City Chiefs hat and boots finished the ensemble.

She gathered her shovel and sidewalk salt from the entryway and turned on the porch light. When she walked outside, a blast of cold air hit her face. It was still dark and quiet like night. She poured salt on the icy portions of her porch and got to work shoveling the snow from her steps and sidewalk. As she walked down each step, she saw her breath make a puff of smoke in the air.

When she had cleared a walkway and the driveway, she trudged over to her neighbor’s house in the snow. Sam Burns lived on the other side of the duplex. He was eighty-years old and full of energy. Still, he had a heart condition and Penelope didn’t want him to shovel snow. She dutifully salted and shoveled until he had a safe place to walk and drive. She was almost done when she slipped on a patch of ice and fell backwards on her backside. She was shocked, but not badly hurt. She crawled to a snowy place and put her hands on the ground and her butt up in the air like a crab, rising the front half of her body up on her straight legs. It was undignified, but resourceful. She wiped a tear from her eye as it froze to her cheek.

The sky was beginning to lighten, and Penelope went inside. She warmed her hands and feet in front of the radiator and ate a second breakfast of oatmeal to warm her insides. Now she had to face going to work.

Penelope was underemployed at Varney’s Groceries, where she had worked for twenty years. Ever since she had been kicked out of her house at age eighteen for getting pregnant. Her baby daddy did not bother to help—Penelope was on her own. Penelope traded her college dreams and aspirations for a beautiful baby girl.

Her daughter Phoebe, now age eighteen, was attending college at K-State, funded by scholarships and student loans. Penelope loved her and missed her. But now she had to face her own life. And for the most part, what a glum life it was.

Her own appearance was as shabby as her furniture. She saved money by not getting regular haircuts, and her hair was long, thin, and graying. She kept it swept forward over her shoulders to help hide her chins. Because she ate her stress, her tummy protruded like a round little fairy godmother. There was no point in makeup, she thought.

She did not have to be at work for another hour, so she bundled up again and knocked on Sam’s door. He answered, smiling at her warmly. He had big blue twinkling eyes, and what was left of his hair was black and white. In his deep voice, he said: “Hullo, there Pen! Nice to see you this morning! Can I feed you some pancakes?”

“Sure!” Penelope said, and she hugged him. He said: Thank you for doing that hard work on my sidewalks and driveway. I’m a lucky man!”

Penelope nodded and said: “No problem! Now I don’t have to exercise today!” She thought that Sam was one of the few people on earth who made her feel joyous. Important. Loved.

Sam led her to the kitchen island. His place was small like hers, but he had a big library of books, some cigars, and a propensity to laugh often and much. “I found this book today, Pen!” he said. He handed her a small black leather notebook. “It was Sarah’s. She kept a diary when I was stationed overseas. I thought you would like to read it!”

“Oh yes, I would love to!” Penelope exclaimed. She tingled with excitement. Sam talked about his late wife Sarah often. She was an interesting character. Sarah had immigrated with her parents from Argentina and became a pianist in the United States. She met and fell in love with Sam in a piano bar one Sunday night when he was stationed on leave from the Army.

Sam started the griddle and batter while Penelope flipped through the book. Inside were entries written in Spanish, pictures, some musical notes, and other drawings. Penelope would need a Spanish dictionary to read the book.

“Have you given any thought to going to K-State?” Sam asked, as he flipped a pancake. “I can’t afford it,” Penelope said. “I want to make sure Phoebe gets through her education. I’ll have to be happy at Varney’s.”

“You’re not using your brain,” Sam said. “You’re a big thinker. I’d love to see you get the kind of job where you can use your noggin’ and not your hands. Besides, you’re bored!”

“It’s true,” Penelope admitted. “But I’ve got to be practical.”

“Practical!” Sam cried. “Practical! You’ve had to spend the last eighteen years being practical. I’d like to see you have an adventure!”

Penelope smiled. “Maybe I will someday, Sam. Thank you for caring about me.”

“My pleasure, kid.” Sam said softly. And then, “Here’s your pancakes!”

Penelope didn’t tell him it was her third breakfast. She was just so delighted with his company. She scarfed down the pancakes and drank some orange juice, then told him she had to go to work. They hugged again as she left his house to get changed.

Her work uniform was a gray dress with a white apron and white shoes. She had no choice but to wear pantyhose. Penelope hated pantyhose. She curled them in her fingers and stretched them over her foot and then pulled them up her leg, then repeated on the other side. Then she had to get them pulled up over her abdominal flab, and get them to stay and not roll down. Often, they would go curling down if she didn’t get them pulled up high enough. It was especially hard to get them on today after three breakfasts.

After she was satisfied that her pantyhose would stay, she drove to work as the snow began falling again. Because she had been promoted to the snack shop, she brought customers food and drinks before checking them out at the register. She tried to keep her mind occupied. She often thought about her parents. Were they happy? Did they miss her? What were they doing? She thought of Phoebe, her pride and joy. And she thought about Sam, who was more of a parent to her than her parents had ever been.

When she drove home, she saw an ambulance in front of her house. She parked across the street and ran to it, heart pounding. “Sam!” she screamed. “Sam!” He was inside the ambulance sitting up on a stretcher. He waved to her, “I’m ok, Pen! I just need an adjustment!” And he gave her a thumbs-up signal. Penelope blew him a kiss and stuck up her thumb. “I’ll come and visit you!”

Penelope talked to the EMT personnel and found out that Sam was experiencing some atrial fibrillation symptoms but that he was stable. They told her they would call her.

She went inside, weeping from shock, and threw herself on the couch. She was relieved he was ok, but the tears kept falling because she knew she would have to lose him someday. She couldn’t bear the thought of it.

After some time passed, she wiped her tears and opened Sam’s little black notebook. She used an app on her cell phone as a Spanish dictionary and translated entries all night. The text painted a beautiful picture of adventures. Penelope longed to be as gutsy as Sarah. Most of the entries described how much Sarah loved Sam.

On the last page, the handwriting was different. In English, it said: Dear Penelope, Check beneath your couch cushion. I hope you will use this money to start college. I love you, Sam!

Penelope found $20,000 under a gray cushion of her couch. He must have snuck it under there a few days ago when they watched television together. It was a gift of love from Sam, and a chance to reset her life for happiness. Just as she had done on the ice outside, she had slipped on achieving her dreams, and Sam was giving her a hand up. Suddenly, she realized that she was worthy of that love and attention. Not only from others, but from herself. Let new adventures begin!