On Ice (9 page)

“
I'll have to think on it, Ma'am.” Ben furrowed his brow. “I left it open so the heat could get up there. It's nice and cozy-like in the winter. I'll have to think on it.”

After Ben’s visit, Rene put Sara down for a nap. Seth surprised her when he curled up on the sofa with his pillow. They still hadn't gotten used to the time change. Tucking a quilt around him, she dropped a kiss on his head.

She poured another cup of coffee and opened the used book she purchased from Pinky. She was deeply engrossed when she heard a timid knock at the front door. Steadying her nerves, she wondered if she would always jump when someone knocked. She crept behind the blanket-curtain to peer out the window above her bed. Sara slept peacefully as Rene knelt over her. She held her breath. A strange truck parked beside her borrowed vehicle, much shinier, much newer and much redder. A tall, thin man with long hair held back in a pony tail got out of the truck. The small knock sounded again. Craning her neck, she saw children hovering close to the door. This time, Seth awakened and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“
It looks like we have company.” She said as she opened the door.

“
Are you the new teacher?” the tallest of the three girls asked.

“
Yes,” Rene said as Seth poked his head around the door.

The pony-tailed man had reached the porch and took off a baseball cap of indeterminate color. “Hi,” he said with a friendly smile. “I'm Tink Culver. My wife, Angel and I own the hotel. We want to welcome you to Sad Horse.”

“
I’m Rene Nichols. Please come in.” Rene held the door wide. Grabbing the quilt from the sofa, she invited them to be seated. The two smaller girls sat close together, smiling shyly, while the oldest handed her a packet wrapped in a bright square of calico fabric.

“
Mama made this for you,” she said.

“
Please thank her for me.” Rene accepted the packet and peeked inside, finding plump flaky biscuits. “These look great! We'll enjoy them, I'm sure. This is my son Seth.”

“
And our oldest is Lark. She's ten. Skye is seven and Star, our baby, is almost five. Angel’s real sorry she couldn't come but somebody has to stay at the hotel.”

“
I didn't see a hotel when I went into town.”

“
We're on the street running behind the Post Office and the drug store. You can't miss it.”

“
We're short of chairs, Mr. Culver. Would you sit with me at the table and have a cup of coffee?”

“
We don't drink caffeine, thanks just the same.” He took a seat at the table.

Rene poured juice, serving the girls and Seth on the sofa.

“
Angel and I want you and your family to come for lunch at the hotel on Sunday, you know, after church.”

“
How nice.” Rene tried to recall how long it had been since she had stepped into a church.

“
Angel puts on a big, fine meal. Everybody in town comes.” Tink smiled at her hopefully. “Since school starts up again Monday, we thought this would give you a chance to meet everyone.”

“
Thank you. We'll be there. I gather these are my students?” Rene glanced at the girls who were talking to Seth in low voices.

“
Yep. Two of your best students, if I do say so myself. We were glad when Brett said you were coming. Angel's been working with them so they won't get behind, but, it’s not like having a real teacher.”

“
What grade are they in?”

“
Don't know. The last teacher wasn't very good. Didn't learn much of anything.”

“
I’ll test to find each students performance level.”

“
They can show you where they are in the books.”

“
Mr. Culver, going through books is no way to teach. I’ll have to do evaluations to see if they're learning the information being taught.”

“
Makes sense to me,” he said pleasantly.

“
What time should we come on Sunday?”

“
That depends on whether you're Catholic or Protestant. There's only one church and not many people. The Catholic service with Father Paul is at nine and then there's kind of a social hour from ten to eleven. The Catholics stay and the Protestants come early for it. Then the Reverend Goodnight delivers a sermon to the Protestants at eleven. So the Catholics come to lunch after eleven and the Protestants come at twelve. Those who lie abed on the Lord's day come straggling in whenever they wake up. It works out well, because we wouldn't have enough space to seat everyone.”

“
I see," Rene said. “We'll figure it out by Sunday.”

“
Mommy.” Sara called from behind the hanging blankets.

“
That's my daughter,” Rene said. “Come out, Sara and meet our company.” Sara walked across the floor in her stocking feet to climb into Rene's lap and survey the visitor’s from that vantage point.

Star Culver came running over to meet her and waved cheerfully. Sara climbed down and wordlessly the two little girls walked hand-in-hand to the other children.

“
She's still sleepy,” Rene said. “Does Star go to school?”

“
She hasn't, up to now.”

“
Sara's going to be in school because I'll be working so if you want her to get some pre-school just bring her. I don't know the ages of the children yet, but I guess we'll work that out on Monday.”

When the Culvers departed, Rene sat on the sofa with her children. “It seems that the entire population of Sad Horse is happy we're here and they welcome us with food. I'll weigh a ton, but I think I'll enjoy getting that way.” She smiled, remembering how Mark had ridiculed her if she gained an ounce.

She didn’t hear the next vehicle pull into the clearing, but the knock at the door startled her to her feet. She repeated the process of surveying the visitor from the window. A man about her height with thick, dark eyebrows and a misshapen hat jammed down on his head stood drumming a pen against the notepad he clutched.

“
I'm Roger Dale, from the Sad Horse Sentinel,” he blurted out as she opened the door a few inches. “I'm here to interview you for the next edition.” He moved forward, as though to enter the cabin.

Rene blocked the door. “We're just going out.”

“
This will only take a minute,” he said, patting the camera hanging from his shoulder by a worn leather strap.

“
It's not convenient,” she said.

“
But, but,” he sputtered. “We have to put the paper to bed tonight. It comes out Saturday morning.”

“
Sorry!” Rene shut the door and leaned against it. The pushy little man frightened her. He could be the chink in her very thin armor. She waited until his vehicle started up and pulled out of the clearing to exhale.

Rejoining her children on the sofa, she drew them into her arms. She held them until they were startled from their comfortable nest by the sounds of a commotion at the back door. Ben struggled to unload pieces of wood and tree branches from a wheelbarrow.

“
How 'do Miz Reeny?” He waved gleefully. “I did some thinking on the loft, like I told you I would. I’m gonna make it safe for the little ones.”

“
What did you come up with, Ben?”

“
Well, see'n as how you liked the aspen branches, I thought I'd use them to make a railing. I can space them just right so nobody’ll fall out, but the heat can still get up there.”

“
That sounds lovely and a lot safer. Be sure the spaces aren't big enough for Sara to get her head stuck.”

“
Why, Ma'am, do you think she'd do something like that?” Ben looked puzzled.

“
Ben, children do all the things you don't think they would possibly do.” She smiled at his perplexed expression. “That's why we have to try to protect them from all the possibilities.”

“
Yes Ma'am, I'll do my best, but I don't know nothin' about children.”

“
I'm sure you'll do a great job.” Rene patted his shoulder in encouragement. He seemed to be extremely embarrassed by this simple act. “I'm sorry, Ben. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“
That's okay, Miz Reeny.” He put his hand on the shoulder she had touched as though the sensation still lingered. “It's just that I can't rightly recall the last time nobody touched me, ‘specially a lady. I liked it. Really I did.”

“
I'm glad, Ben, because so far, you're my first friend here.” Rene's heart warmed at his delighted smile. “A friend should be able to pat another friend on the shoulder. Right?”

“
Yes Ma'am, that's a fact.” He ducked his head and continued to unload the wheelbarrow. “I got to bring another load, Miz Reeny. Then I'll get on the railing first thing in the morning.” He started to trundle the empty wheelbarrow down the path when Rene stopped him.

“
Can you tell me how to get to the school? I thought we could drive by to see it before supper.”

“
Yes Ma'am. Go back like you was goin’ to town, but instead of turning right, you just keep goin' straight on the road to the mine. ‘Bout a half mile past town on the right. Can’t miss it.” He trundled off with a jaunty step.

The children put their jackets on and loaded into the truck, seemingly ready for adventure. The motor started right up and died with a lurch as Rene failed to get it into the correct gear. She drew a deep breath and started it again, this time trying for a smooth choreography of pedals and gears. They crept down the road crunching pine needles beneath the huge tires in second gear. When they reached the main road it died again and Rene had to repeat the process. She managed to get into third on the bumpy, rutted road to town and, following Ben's directions, passed it by. Shortly thereafter, they spotted the very old wooden structure sitting back from the road. Dark red paint contrasted with the green of the trees. An actual bell tower pointed skyward. Rene pulled up in front and turned off the ignition. They stared through the grimy windshield for a moment.

“
Shall we go inside?” Rene knew the answer even before the scramble to rid themselves of lap belts began. They approached the front door almost reverently. A small plaque beside the door dedicated the building to the children of Sad Horse and it was dated 1899. Rene touched it gently, causing a few flecks of paint to fall off. She fumbled to put the key into the lock and turned it stiffly.

As the door creaked inward the smell of chalk dust and mustiness assaulted their senses. Rene flipped the light switch, but no light relieved the gloom. Their footsteps sounded unnaturally loud as they walked across the bare wooden floor. A desk and a collection of chairs and tables were stacked in a corner. She tried raising the shade on the closest window but it fell at her feet with a clatter. Some of the shades were operable, but most were totally spent, resting limp at the limit of their extendibility, refusing to rise even one more time. The windowpanes were old, the glass thick and bubbled. A generous coating of grime obscured the fading sunlight.

Chokingly thick dust, raised by Rene's endeavors, caused her to sneeze repeatedly. It coated every surface in abundance.

She felt helpless to alleviate the dank melancholy of the classroom. “What we need is a magic wand.”

“
I've got one, Mommy,” Sara called.

Rene turned to find her daughter gleefully dancing around with a long pointer. She waved it imperiously with no results except to stir more dust.

“
This one doesn't work, Mommy, but there's another one.” She pointed to a second long piece of wood tipped with discolored brass.

Rene examined it and saw that its hook was used to pull down any one of the large collection of maps mounted over the blackboard. “I think these are fresh out of magic.” She placed it with the pointer in the chalk railing. “Let's go and get some cleaning supplies. Tomorrow we can do some scrubbing when we’re fresher.”

They stopped at the grocery store in town. Rene lifted Sara into one of the three shopping carts. She got a plastic bucket and sponges, glass cleaner and an all-purpose cleaner as well as furniture polish.

“
My goodness,” said a pleasant voice behind her. “I would have sworn I cleaned the cabin for you.”

Mrs. Jolly's inquisitive face peered into the cart.

“
Not the cabin,” Rene said, still peeved over the way she had grilled the children. “This is for the classroom. It's filthy!”

“
Filthy? You don't say?”

Another white haired woman, more slender and with intelligent clear blue eyes approached them. Rene sensed tension between the two ladies.

“
Good afternoon, Eugenia.” The woman gave a curt nod to Mrs. Jolly and turned to Rene. “I'm Mrs. Horace Pindar.” She paused. “That's Lottie Ruth Carmichael-Pindar.” She stressed the Carmichael slightly. “My dear, departed Horace was the Post Master and I have been thrust into his position. No one else knew what to do and it seemed appropriate that I should carry on in his place. You must be our new teacher.”

When Rene nodded, she went on. “We can't have the children starting back to school in an unclean environment. I'll help you with the cleaning.”

“
Thank you,” Rene said. “It's going to be a big job. It doesn't appear to have been cleaned in years and the lights wouldn't come on.”