Gaurding Snowangel

Even as the captain informed the passengers via intercom that the turbulence was perfectly normal, and should only delay their arrival at Montpellier by a few minutes, Kathleen was still apprehensive. She squeezed her husband's forearm tightly...a little too tightly by his grunt. But he squeezed her hand back reassuringly. Her husband and her best fiend, Kevin, of 20 years was calm and collected, at least outwardly so. He had always been her protector, her rock, her knight in shining armor, and she loved him now more than ever, if that was possible. But the small twin-engine commuter plane was bucking so wildly in the blizzard, that even his eyes, usually stalwart, showed concern. And that was what frightened her even more than the platitudes offered by the pilot. Because when Kevin was concerned, then there was something to be concerned about. Kevin in fact wanted to rent a car in Boston and drive back to Stovington. But she had to insist they fly as she just wanted to get home, and besides the weather was bad, and she didn’t want to travel by car some 200 miles through a blizzard.

As Kathleen was mulling that over, a loud “pop” reverberated throughout the aircraft, bringing gasps and shrieks of panic from the 10 or so passengers, including herself. A little girl of about nine, traveling with her parents, began to sob and even her mother’s attempts at comfort had no effect. Kathleen looked away and was on the verge of panic. She dug her fingernails into her beloved husband’s arm, who didn’t seem to notice, so intent was he on the developing circumstances. It was then that the plane dropped suddenly, leaving her stomach some distance above her, and the plane begin to lose attitude at an alarming rate. People were screaming, and crying. The little girl began to cry uncontrollably, and an old couple was silently praying.

“This is you pilot. We have lost hydraulic pressure in some of our systems and will be making an emergency landing. Please fasten your seatbelts and place your head between your legs as previously instructed!”

And emergency landing, Kathleen thought! In the Green Mountains of Vermont? Not bloody likely. They were going to crash! It was then she looked in her husband's eyes, and he quitely replied, “Do as the captain says,” and then he added: “It’s in God’s hand now...I love you.”

Kathleen started crying softly, but followed her husband’s advice. As they both placed their heads between their legs, he reached out to her hand. “Kathleen, darling, no matter what happens I will make sure you are safe. This I promise on my father’s grave.” It was then that a calm came over her, because not once in 20 years, had her husband ever broke a promise to her, and she knew he wasn’t about to start now.

The plane bucked and shivered wildly, and her ears popped in response to the rapidly changing air pressure. Just as she was wondering when they were going to make this “emergency landing,” the plane clipped some evergreens, and belly-flopped into the snowy ground. As the plane hopped across the snowy land like a stone skipping over a pond, carry-on bags and other personal belongings begin to fly this way and that as the plane, with the "assistance" of the conifers, desperately tried to shed its momentum. People and metal were screaming, and then WHAM...the world faded to black.

A gentle shaking awoke her. “Hon? Hon?!”
“Uh, what...Oh, Kevin, we made it didn’t we?”
He nodded, but there was a strange look in his eyes. Distant. As if they gazed upon the frontier of infinity. Not scary, just peculiar. “Are you okay Kathleen?” She replied that she was, and then on second thought, she realized that her left leg felt like it was on fire. “No, Kevin, I think my leg is broken.” And then she added an “OWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!” for emphasis.

Kevin replied that he thought the same. “We are the only two who survived Kathleen,” he said. “Just you and me.”

“Are you okay then Kevin?”
“Yes, I think so...just some cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. Listen, the storm is getting bad, and I don't believe that a rescue party will be up here anytime soon. We don't have much in the way of food, and we need to get you to a hospital. As I remember, we are only about 20 miles from Stovington. Granted, it is across some pretty rugged terrain...heavily forested...and in some pretty inclement weather, but if I splint your leg, and build a travois, I can carry you out of here.”

Dismissing the obvious subject change, Kathleen was fairly certain that he could. Although both of them were forty-five years old, they had kept in relatively good shape over the years. However, this was a monumental undertaking and would tax Kevin’s abilities and stamina to the limit. But what choice did they have? It would be hard on them both, especially on her husband. Luckily they had good winter clothes, and Kevin had taken some more from the bodies of the victims. She shuddered a little at that, but their survival was on the line here. Kathleen also tried not to look at the little girls’ lifeless body, but she couldn’t help it. The little girl’s eyes were wide open, a look of absolute surprise on her face.

First then he did was carry her some distance from then plane so he could build a fire for her while he gathered the necessary materials. He would have liked to have left her in the wreckage of the plane, as it least afforded some protection from the elements. But he couldn’t risk setting off a fire from any fuel that may have been released by the crash. So he carried her about 50 yards from the plane and set her up next to a rock about the size of a small house. He built her a roaring fire, covered her with as many of the deceased’s winter clothing as she could stand, and then proceeded to get to work building a travois. He had found, oddly enough, a hand-ax and a hunting knife in the wreckage of the plane. It struck Kathleen as odd that such essential tools would be readily available on a plane, but she quickly forgot about the idiosyncrasy of it, as she began to drift in and out of consciousness. She was going into shock, but because of the fire, and all the warm clothing her husband had provided for her, she was at least safe from hypothermia. At least for the moment. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was that it was a miracle that the only two survivors of the plane accident were her and her husband. And it was even more of a miracle that despite his claim of a few cuts and bruises, she had not seen evidence of either, and he seem to be completely unscathed by the wreck. But she gave up this rumination, and as she dozed off, she was just grateful for the circumstances as they were. They could have been worse. A hell of lot worse, in fact.

An eternity later, but in reality, only a few hours she was awakened by an abrupt jolt.
“Wha...?”
“Sorry hon, slipped a little on the snow.”
It was then she realized that she was firmly secured to what could only be a travois, and her husband was carrying her through the wilderness of the Green Mountains. Although he was breathing a little hard for her comfort and she was becoming concerned for his health, his breathing was steady and he was dragging the travois with her 135-pound frame at a fairly constant pace. She was thankful in many ways that they had kept in shape over the years. First, she was thankful that Kevin was in shape enough to at least feel he could accomplish this enormous undertaking, and for her, that she had kept the weight down, thus making his job easier, albeit by only a matter of degrees in severity. Make no mistake, Kathleen thought, they would both be lucky to survive, and as sure as she was in Kevin’s abilities and strength, she was still plagued by doubts brought on by the extent of their situation.

Over the next several hours Kathleen traveled in and out consciousness. She was in shock, and even with all the clothing she was bundled up in, the storm was still bearing down on them, and the chill was beginning to seep through. She was alarmed, but it seemed far off, and not worthy of much notice. She then, being aware of the nature of advanced hypothermia, became more immediately alarmed, because she felt warm. But before she could react, a steaming cup of hot beef broth was placed to her lips.
“Drink this honey...it will make you feel better.”
By God, her husband had found beef bouillon somewhere and using snowmelt and a metal cup had warmed it in a roaring fire. She was warm, because she was supposed to be.
“We’ll have to camp her for the night, Kathleen. It’s getting dark.”
Kathleen hadn’t felt so safe and secure since just before the plane crash, and as she dozed off to a safe, sound sleep, she only vaguely wandered where and how Kevin was going to sleep. He was just sitting by the fire, feeding it more and more wood, and he seemed not at all tired. The last sight of him before she drifted off to sleep, was him smiling that crooked...that wondrous smile of his...but only...his eyes somehow didn’t seem quite right. Almost wistful in appearance, like he was grieving. Not worried for her safety, but like he was grieving for something already lost. She hadn’t time to dwell on this revelation, and just as she dozed off, she dismissed it as the result of fear, exhaustion and the trauma of her broken leg. But still...

She was awakened the next morning, once again by an abrupt jolt.
“Sorry, hon...the terrain is pretty rough here, but we’re making good time. I believe we made at least 8-10 miles since yesterday, and we should make Stovington, or damn close by either tomorrow, or the next day at the most. That is if the storm doesn’t get worse.”

Kathleen, didn’t have the strength to respond with much more than an ‘okay.’ She was fading fast. Despite her husband’s best efforts, she was succumbing to hypothermia, and she believed that her leg might be getting infected. She vaguely remembered some blood on her leg, and it dawned on her that she could have a compound fracture, which probably pierced the leg. If that was the case, and it seemed very likely by now, infection, and gangrene would quickly follow. She reached down as far as she could, and while she felt what she thought was dried blood (and a lot of it for that matter), she didn’t feel any fresh. Apparently her husband had not only splinted her leg, but also bandaged it fairly well with a cloth. Kathleen took stock of her situation in a rare lucid moment: Hypothermia, possible infection, and possible blood loss. At least 10, and possibly 12 miles from the nearest town (assuming her husband's since of direction was accurate), and the likelihood of worsening weather. On top of this, it was not a sure thing that Kevin could hold out and could very well likely drop dead from exhaustion or a heart attack. In short, their situation was dire. Kevin could make it to Stovington and get help much faster if he would leave her. Build a fire, leave her next to it and hightail to town. Bring back help. When she finally gathered enough strength to run this “plan” by her husband, she was reproached and heatedly so, and by the look in his eyes, those eyes, that didn’t seem to be quite right since the crash, she decided that considering she really had no control over her situation right now, she would have to acquiesce to Kevin’s decisions. God, she loved him for his bravery and, well, for the 20 years she had known him.

In all those years he never had raised his voice to her (except now, when she presented her "plan" to him), and he had never treated her in any way but with the utmost respect and care. Sure, they had their differences, after all, all couples in healthy relationships did. In fact she would be truly concerned if they didn’t fight. But their "fights" always came from mutual respect of the other’s opinion. They may disagree, and quite often they would have to agree to disagree. And after the fight ended, they would drop it, make mad, passionate love, which after twenty years, was even more enjoyable than it ever was. God, he was such a good lover, and she wasn’t too bad, either if she didn’t say so herself. Hell, occasionally she would just pick a fight so they could make up afterwards. And she strongly suspected Kevin did the same. This brought a smile to her face and warmth to her heart.

Yes, Kevin was her hero, especially now, more than ever. He was literally risking his life to save hers, and deep down, she knew that he would die for her. She had terribly mixed feelings about this, because she felt the same way about him, and while she was immensely grateful that he was risking her life to give her life, if she had her ‘druthers, she wouldn’t let him. But she was helpless and had no control over her fate at the moment, or his. She was completely at his mercy, and she knew that in his infinite mercy he would die, rather than give up in his endeavor to bring her to safety. She began to sob quietly at this, and prayed to God to give them both the strength to see this through.

She dozed, only to awake once again to the blaze of a roaring fire and the warm, smooth taste of beef broth. And once again as she dozed, she wondered how he was sleeping and why he was not sleeping with her within the warmth of her body and the comfort of the travois he built. But all he did was tend the fire and try to smile at her reassuringly. The strangeness of his expressions, however, was anything less than reassuring. Again, the routine of the past two days reasserted itself. She awoke with him lifting up the long poles of the travois, cradling them strongly in the crook of his arms. And then, slowly at first, he began to put one step in front of the other in the deep snow until he built up at least some small measure of momentum. The weather promised to be worse today that it had been. But if Kevin was correct, they should reach Stovington by this afternoon. The thought of it brought a sigh of relief and warmed Kathleen more than any blanket of winter clothing could. But her joy was not to last. Her leg was hurting her more than she thought possible, and every jolt brought on by the rough terrain, and Kevin’s occasional stumble, elicited the most exquisite pain imaginable. She knew that she might probably lose her leg, if they survived, that is.

It was slow going today, as the weather did indeed turn for the worse. High winds, a noticeable drop in temperature and large, fat snowflakes throwing a veil of white and gray over the landscape. As evening drew near, Kathleen knew that they would have to spend at least one more night out here. She was not entirely confident of her ability to survive it. Kevin, must also be thinking the same thing as he was making no attempt to stop and make camp. He must be exhausted, she thought, and if they both were going to survive, she had to assert herself, right here and now.
“Kevin,” she whispered. When he appeared not to hear her, she managed a shout: “KEVIN, GODDAMIT, STOP!”
With that, they came to an abrupt halt, and Kathleen, stretched her neck to look over her shoulder, and at once she became alarmed. Kevin was standing completely still, holding the poles of the travois, but she could both hear and see his ragged breathing. He was exhausted.

“Darling,” Kathleen continued, in her best soothing voice, “we are not going to make Stovington tonight. You and I both know this. So let’s pick a spot and try to get out of the weather at best we can and wait it out ‘til morning. Whaddaya say?”
“Perhaps you are right, hon. I see a rocky outcrop about 100 yards off. It would make a fairly good shelter for the night.”

As Kathleen felt, once more, the motion of the travois being dragged over the snow and ice, she actually was somewhat relieved. She had wanted to talk to Kevin for the past couple of days, but only now with the pain screaming at her, had she been lucid enough to try. She had been having, for the past two nights, terrible dreams. Dreams of both of them dying in that aircraft and she wanted to talk to Kevin about it. Because of her dreams, she no longer felt grateful that they alone, of the ten passengers and two crew, had survived. It seemed too miraculous even for one of such strong faith as her. She knew that they were alive, however, but something was gnawing at the periphery of her psyche. Something she couldn’t quite see. And it bothered her. She never liked mysteries.

Kevin was indeed correct; the crop of rocks afforded a nice little overhang just large enough to keep the snow off them and to give them some protection from the wind. Kevin in short order built a roaring fire, and if not for the gravity of their situation, Kathleen thought it could almost be romantic. As her beloved prepared the fire, she looked long and lovingly at him. He truly was her hero...her guardian angel. He was saving her life, and she shooed away all doubts as to his succeeding in his endeavor. But since the plane crash he seemed so distance...so aloof. She tried to chalk it up to the fact that she really wasn’t all here to begin with, but still...and that tickling at the back of her mind once again toyed with her patience. Before she could discuss with him her concerns, she dozed off.

She awoke, and was initially quite alarmed. She felt warm, comfortable and all was white. She thought she might either be dying, or already dead. But then she heard the telltale sounds of medical equipment communicating with each other in their indecipherable beeps and chirps. “She’s coming around,” she heard a female voice. And then a nurse’s face came into view and Kathleen knew she was in a hospital. They made it, goddamn, they made it!
“How’s my husband...how’s Kevin? Kathleen inquired urgently, “I know he was in bad shape when he brought me in.” This drew a curious look on the nurse’s face. She honestly had no idea what she was talking about.
“Let me get the doctor, Ms. Grant.”
Kathleen began to panic. Somehow she knew Kevin didn’t make it, and that was not all. She was getting that funny feeling again that Kevin never made it at all. She was still wrestling with the impending truth when the doctor came in.
“Mrs. Grant?
“Yes.” Hesitantly.
“Mrs. Grant I can’t begin to tell you how you got here yesterday, but the day before you were found at the ER entrance, the plane in which you, your husband and 10 other victims were in, was found. Your husband, Kevin Edward Grant, was among the fatalities. Aside from you, there were no survivors.” The doctor and his staff couldn’t understand the subdued smile that formed on her face. Nor could they understand they single tear gently down her cheek. Her husband had kept his promise.