Delaney Lawson crouched against the stone wall in the basement. With eyes closed in silent prayer, she clutched the hand of her landlord and friend, Meredith Champ.
“You know. It doesn’t sound nearly as bad as I thought it would.” Meri said.
Something about Meri’s British accent soothed Delaney’s nerves a bit, but it didn’t calm the butterflies in her stomach. Nor did her heart rate slow.
The wind howled over their head. Outside their fortress, the sounds of cracking limbs and shattering glass shouted tales of destruction. Hurricane Denese commanded the attention of every resident of the North Carolina coast. Her bullying ways forced everyone in her path to succumb to her whims.
Who knew how many lives she would change when tomorrow came?
*****
Delaney dragged a broken tree branch across the yard by its shattered end. Near the curb, she dropped it then kicked at it until it lay parallel to the street’s edge. Wiping her hands on the seat of her jeans, she turned to Meri.
“That’s the last of the big ones.”
Meri stopped raking. “I think it looks fairly good. Maybe we’ll be on the news, too.” She glanced at the local news van parked across the street. The camera panned their neighbor’s abandoned house where a giant oak tree, probably standing since the Revolutionary War, had fallen under the gale-force winds. It had crushed the roof almost completely across.
“Those poor people,” Meri continued.
“Yeah. All we had to do was get rid of some trash, limbs, and leaves. I hope they’re going to be okay.” Delaney eyed the refuse across the street. “Say… why don’t we have some lunch and start cleaning up their yard. After the news hounds leave, I mean. Do you think they’ll mind?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Okay then. You want me to make us some tea and sandwiches?”
“Marvelous. I’m absolutely famished.” Meri pushed a piece of her silver, sweat drenched hair behind her ear. “As soon as I get this last pile into the leaf bag, I’ll be in.” The sprite figure belied her strength and resilience, even two years into retirement.
Delaney turned and walked toward the storybook home, its stone exterior and oak clad door exuding strength and a feeling of security. It had been lovingly constructed for Meri by her late husband, Calvin, to remind her of the British cottages from her native countryside.
Entering the parlor, Delaney walked toward the rear of the house and to the right into the kitchen, which Meri called the scullery. Delaney smiled as she thought of it. The first few days she had lived here, she had politely refused whenever Meri asked if she could “bring her anything from the scullery.” Quite frankly, Delaney hadn’t been sure at the time exactly what she would get if she’d said yes. One day, Meri had asked with a twinkle in her eye whether or not Delaney would mind going to get a towel from the scullery.
“Sure,” Delaney had said, trying hard to be polite to her new landlord. She had stood and hesitated. Turning to Meri, she’d said, “Okay. I give.”
Meri laughed a deep belly laugh, tears springing to her eyes. “The kitchen, dear. The scullery is the kitchen.” She pulled a tissue from the box by the sofa and dabbed her eyes. “Oh, my.” She took a deep breath. “Such a yank! In all fairness, scullery is a fairly archaic word. A couple of centuries ago, it meant a room off the kitchen for washing and the like. I just like to use it because it sounds rather fancy, don’t you think?”
Shaking her head at the memory, Delaney opened the fridge; she pulled out a boiled egg and a blue plastic container. They would both want egg salad. Meri, however, would want sliced, hard-boiled egg, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise. Delaney would want hers with chopped egg, mayonnaise, and mustard mixed together. Lunchtime meant a glass filled with sweet iced tea for her and a hot mug of Earl Grey for Meri.
As Delaney shut the fridge, she heard the front door open and close, followed by the sounds of running water coming from the bathroom.
Meri walked into the kitchen. “Would you like for me to carry that to the table for you?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”
Meri plopped down in a chair. “I should be used to what you can do after living here nearly two months. I still find it fairly remarkable, though.”
Delaney shrugged. “Everybody does what they have to do. Right?”
“True.” Meri paused. “I don’t believe I’ve ever asked you exactly what happened.”
As she carried the two plates and drinks to the dining room table, maneuvering her crutches with the motion of her shoulders and upper arms, Delaney thought back over the short time that they had known each other. Meri hadn’t skipped a beat when they had first met to discover whether or not Delaney would be a suitable boarder. She had looked right past the crutches and Delaney’s amputated left leg.
“I guess you never did.” Delaney paused and glanced in Meri’s direction. “Would you like to know?” She smiled and winked to let Meri know it was okay.
“If you’d like. It doesn’t matter one way or the other.”
Delaney sat and took a long drink from her tea glass, then placed it on the table. “My parents and I lived in the southern part of Indiana when I was very small. Our home sat on this marvelous bit of land with a short hill, perfect for sledding in the winter. The snow had been around for a couple of days. It was packed firm. I went outside with my cousin to sled on one of those bright pink plastic sleds. He gave me a push down the hill. About the time he let go, a car came speeding down the road.” Delaney stopped for a moment, folding her arms. “We still don’t know why in the world he was driving at speeds like that in such treacherous weather.”
“There’s no accounting for people’s behavior sometimes,” Meri said.
Delaney shook her head. “Anyway, the sled went farther down the hill than we had thought it would and I ended up in the street. I stood up and just froze. The driver tried to slam on brakes, but the car skidded on a patch of ice. By the time the driver gained control of the car, it was too late. I don’t remember much after that. Just that by the time I regained consciousness, I had one less leg. Apparently, my left leg had been mangled too badly to repair.” Delaney had regurgitated this story to people her whole life. By now, it came off somewhat robotically.
“How old were you?” Meri asked.
“Four. My cousin was nine. We played outside in the snow all the time. It was just a really random occurrence.”
“Random. I’ll say. So you had to live your whole life like this?”
“Yeah. I think that living with a disability from childhood makes you a lot more able to adapt to living that way than it would be for an adult. Plus, I owe a lot of credit to my parents. They let me believe I could do anything that I wanted. Then, they let me set my own boundaries. For a stubborn kid who is trying to gain some control over her own life, that’s not going to be many.” For some inexplicable reason, the Monty Python song Always Look on the Bright Side of Life popped into her head.
And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the right side of life...
“You’re lucky to be alive. There’s got to be some reason you’re here.”
“So I keep hearing.”
