{"id":2465,"date":"2023-01-14T16:16:06","date_gmt":"2023-01-14T23:16:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2465"},"modified":"2023-01-14T16:16:06","modified_gmt":"2023-01-14T23:16:06","slug":"the-freeze","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2023\/01\/14\/the-freeze\/","title":{"rendered":"The Freeze"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write about a character who, for whatever reason, retreats to a remote cabin.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The only thing worse than a poor night\u2019s sleep is the day after. When it happens every<\/em> night, however, the days turn into a smear of half-remembered impressions as the world passes by at what feels like double or treble speed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He answered the knocking at his door. \u201cYou here to wake me up? You\u2019re a few hours late.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re dragging again.\u201d There was a hint of pity in her voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be fine,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust like you haven\u2019t been all week?\u201d She moved closer to where he couldn\u2019t avoid her gaze. \u201cYou look like a raccoon, and I know you haven\u2019t slept decently since\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d he cut her off. \u201cThe sirens just\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She handed him a key on a lanyard, and a sheet of paper. \u201cYou\u2019re taking paid leave for a month.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cChief, I can\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNope. I\u2019m not taking any arguments. You\u2019re going to my cabin, and you\u2019re going to sleep as long as you need.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen did you get a cabin?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBeen in the family three generations. Don\u2019t worry, it\u2019s got solar power now, a working well and pump and indoor plumbing.\u201d She stopped. \u201cYou aren\u2019t sleepwalking, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood. Wouldn\u2019t want you to walk off the pier into the lake.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow will I get there?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m driving you up, so hurry up and pack.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou could just give me directions and I could\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou could try to drive there, fall asleep on the interstate and get yourself killed. Not happening.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be cut off from everything?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot completely,\u201d she said. \u201cYou can usually get enough of a signal from the pier to call or text. You won\u2019t be doing anything online there, though.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t suppose there\u2019s any way I can argue, can I Chief?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSmart boy. Now pack up some clothes, and your toothbrush. Everything you\u2019ll need is up there. Freezer, fridge, and cupboard are stocked, sheets and blankets are clean. While you\u2019re up there, just call or text if you need anything else.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Like the days previous, the morning trip to the cabin was a blur. He didn\u2019t remember unpacking, but he remembered that it seemed too large to be a \u201ccabin.\u201d At some point he\u2019d found himself in the bedroom and lay on the bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He woke to early evening sun streaming in the bedroom door from the large, western windows of the front room. His stomach grumbled and he moved to the kitchen to make himself a lunch\u2026or dinner\u2026a meal, anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Deciding to keep it simple, he made a peanut-butter and jam sandwich. When he checked his phone for the time, he was surprised to see the battery was almost dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat the hell?\u201d he asked, as if the phone would answer. \u201cI took you off the charger this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He found the charging cable in the bedroom and plugged the phone in. It took him a more than a few seconds to realize what he was seeing. He hadn\u2019t just slept away the afternoon, he\u2019d slept for twenty-eight hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hunger still poked at him, but he didn\u2019t feel up to making anything complicated. He checked the freezer and decided a pint of gourmet ice cream was just the ticket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carrying the pint of ice cream and a spoon, he went out the front door to the pier and sat down at the end of it. Birds sang in the growing shadows, the sun grew red and settled behind the trees, and he ate his ice cream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had a moment where he wondered if what he was feeling was contemplation or enjoyment or something else entirely. He shook his head and took another spoonful of the ice cream and let it melt on his tongue. It was better when he didn\u2019t try to think about it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A shadow in the sky resolved into a flock of geese flying north. As they neared the lake they began to honk and squawk. He finished his ice cream while they circled and began to settle on the lake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They were every bit as loud as the city, but it didn\u2019t grate on him the way passing cars and trucks and trains did. He felt tired, but not ready for sleep after only being up for a couple hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sun set faster than he\u2019d expected, and a dark, moonless night blanketed everything in silence. The geese slept where they floated in the middle of the lake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A chill began to fall, driving him back indoors. There was nothing to occupy his time, save a shelf of paperbacks in poor condition. He wandered around the cabin a few times; bedroom, front room, kitchen, bath, laundry room, pantry, small room with a battery bank on one side, the other set up for fly tying, and back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He pulled a book at random off the shelf and lay down on the bed to read. It was some sort of gunslinger, wild-west sort of novel that failed to hold his interest enough to keep him from drifting off to sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sirens! The sirens!<\/em> He couldn\u2019t move, mic in hand, frozen in place. The fire trucks are coming! Get out there! Move!<\/em> No matter how he tried, he couldn\u2019t make himself move. Not then, not this time. The sirens grew louder, it was going to happen again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He sat up, panting, his heart thumping as if to leave his chest. Early morning sunlight washed the room in gold, while the geese honked and brayed and shouted their messages to each other on the lake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was the noise that his sleeping brain had turned into sirens. They continued throughout the day, a cacophony of excited travelers eating grass and bugs on the edges of the lake, swimming about, then taking short flights only to return to the water\u2019s surface.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He tried reading more of the novel but couldn\u2019t make it through a whole page without his mind wandering. He put the book back on the shelf and perused the collection. It was mostly westerns and historical fiction, with a scant few old science fiction pulps scattered here and there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The rest of the day he spent much as he had the previous one; wandering about, watching the geese, eating when he felt hungry, and reading from the hilariously outdated science fiction novel he\u2019d taken from the shelf.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the geese went to sleep, he did too. The quiet made it easy, though his mantra of \u201cGeese are not sirens\u201d delayed it for a bit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mantra didn\u2019t work. Once again, he was rooted to the spot while screaming sirens moved closer and everything slowed down. The camera fell to the ground with a crunch and the fire truck\u2026.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He took a cold shower to wash off the sweat and wake himself. He stepped out of the cabin as the geese took off and made a formation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Despite hoping they were back on their journey, the formation did a few large loops in the sky before settling back down on the lake. He began to search the cabin, looking through cupboards and closets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not finding what he was looking for, he went to the kitchen and picked up the phone that was still plugged in. He carried it out to the pier, getting a weak signal when he reached the end.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow are you holding up out there? Need anything?\u201d Her voice dropped in and out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2026uh\u2026I need a drink. Any chance you could bring me a bottle?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs long as you don\u2019t mind me sleeping on the pull-out. I\u2019m not going to let you drink alone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFair enough.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll see you around five,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After first examining the fridge and scolding him for his eating habits, she made them dinner. They ate in silence while the geese continued their loud frolic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dinner complete and dishes washed and put away, they moved to the end of the pier to watch the sunset and share a bottle of wine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot really what I had in mind,\u201d he said, \u201cbut it\u2019ll do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019ll have to,\u201d she said, \u201cas it\u2019s all I had on hand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After the geese had settled and the waxing moon rose, she asked, \u201cCan you talk about it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He took another gulp from the bottle. The wine warmed his belly and gave him the courage to speak. \u201cI think so.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For long moments, he stared at the moon, then its reflection on the lake. She didn\u2019t push, giving him room to speak on his own time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe fire was behind me,\u201d he said, \u201ccamera in front. Normal news reporting, you know? I heard the sirens\u2026.\u201d Tears began to trickle down his cheeks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI heard them coming, then I saw\u2026I saw her; the toddler\u2026playing in a puddle in the street.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI knew I had to do something, but I couldn\u2019t move, couldn\u2019t speak. I just\u2026stared at her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe cameraman\u2026the new guy\u2026turned around to see what was going on. He dropped the camera and ran for her without a moment\u2019s hesitation\u2026just like I couldn\u2019t.\u201d He was wracked with deep sobs, and she put her arm around him and held him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf I\u2019d just gone\u2026I had time\u2026I could\u2019ve saved her. Instead\u2026,\u201d the vision of the fire truck trying to stop, slamming into both the little girl and the cameraman filled his mind again. \u201cIt\u2019s my fault. I\u2019m a coward.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She held him in silence, rocking gently until his sobs died down. \u201cIt\u2019s not your fault, okay? It\u2019s not your fault. You\u2019re not a coward just because your instinct was to freeze rather than run towards danger.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2014I don\u2019t want to be alone tonight,\u201d he said. \u201cIs it okay if you sleep in the bed with me? Not to do anything, just sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sirens!<\/em> He was back again, frozen in place, but he wasn\u2019t alone this time. Her voice cut through the sirens and broke him from their spell. \u201cYou\u2019re okay,\u201d she said, \u201cit\u2019s not your fault.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He woke to her wiping the tears from his face, only to break down in sobs of relief.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write about a character who, for whatever reason, retreats to a remote cabin. available at Reedsy The only thing worse than a poor night\u2019s sleep is the day after. When it happens every night, …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[214,210,209],"class_list":["post-2465","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-drama","tag-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-DL","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2465","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2465"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2465\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2466,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2465\/revisions\/2466"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2465"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2465"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2465"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}