We hope you had a fun and DRY Halloween. We were out walking in the rain that turned to sleet and then to hail, so THAT was a fun one....
Saturday, November 1, 2014
Spoiler Alert***
If you read my few and far between posts you have heard the story. But the kids with their dad's help or should I say Kale with his son's help created a story about their adventure for a Halloween writing contest...
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Alaska Adventure
A True Story
It
was a dark and stormy night. It wasn’t actually all that dark, yet, but that
would change. The storm was raging though, like it did so many nights in the
isolated Alaska town. The town had waited in great anticipation, wondering this
time if it would even happen at all…wondering if the people would survive if
the signal never came.
It was not uncommon for the signal
to come at night, sometimes it never came at all, but IT had always come during
the light of day. The people knew, we knew, that if the signal came this night,
so would IT.
The uncertainty of that thought, of
what would happen if IT came in the dark, was almost enough for all of us to
wish for IT not to come, at least until morning. We struggled within our own
minds about what it would mean. We most certainly needed IT if we were to
survive. We quickly wiped the thought from our minds. For me IT meant the
survival of my family, not only myself.
“If IT came in the dark, so be it!”
I thought to myself, but didn’t dare say out loud.
The
phone rang. The signal!
“I’ll
get it!” shouted my third son and ran toward the phone. Our baby girl tried to
reach for it as well. Fortunately my wife got to it before any of the children.
She
took a breath, then with steely determination I could barely pick out, she
pushed the button and said, “Hello.” It was excruciating watching her listen to
the person on the other end of the line. I tried to make out the situation by
reading the expression on her face, but I couldn’t follow the changes;
startlement, confusion, relief…too chaotic for me to make out. After what
seemed like an eternity, she said, “okay,” with all the brightness she could
muster and hung up the phone. Slowly, she turned to us and announced, “IT will
be here…tonight!”
After
a second of shock, I sprang into action. I quickly started to order the kids to
prepare for what we would now have to do. They had done it before, but like I
said, never in the dark. We should have practiced for this, we should have been
better prepared, but it was too late now. We gathered what we would need, at
least all that we could predict: outdoor
clothing, raincoats, boots, flashlights. Fortunately my daughter had not run out
the battery on her lantern; that might come in handy.
Just
when it started to feel that we might have this under control a blinding light
came streaming in through our front window. The children cringed because of the
brightness. My wife and I rushed to the window to discover both our hope for
the future, and the dread of what we would have to do that night. IT was here!
We
all froze. Then, we began to see and hear a bustling about town. Others,
unprepared as they were, were springing to action too. Lights flickered as
doors opened and closed, boat motors started, and people were moving on the
dock. It gave us courage and we continued our preparations.
We
were ready, as ready as we could be, so we opened the door to venture out. At
least the rain had stopped, but there was still a strong wind and darkness
gripped the land as though it was afraid to let go. Not too far, but what may
as well have been a world away, we could see the light of the place we would
have to go. That was where IT would be going to.
“Do
I have to do this?” questioned my second son.
“I
don’t want to go out there,” said my fourth son, stepping back from the
doorway.
My
oldest son stood stoically waiting, his firmness not quite masking just as much
uncertainty as there was in the rest of us. He knew he would be asked to do
more than any of the other children this night. He didn’t know if he would
break down before it was done, neither did I.
“Let’s
go,” I made the solemn pronouncement and we moved out.
We
saw others moving toward the place where IT was going; we could see IT moving
along the bay as well. I looked around and noticed that not all was right. Some
who were supposed to be there were not. In the dark, with the few lights we had
between us, it was hard to tell who had come, but it was clear that some had
not, that they would be needing help. My heart sank; I knew what I needed to
do.
“Bring
the cart up,” I told my two oldest boys, “and keep an eye on your sister. Stay
with her no matter what.” With that I moved on ahead of the rest and out into
the dark, leaving my young family behind to begin tackling IT on their own
while I went to the aid of those who had not arrived.
My
heart sank even further when I was halfway to my destination. I could hear a
faint voice, crying. I turned to see what I had feared the most: my baby
daughter, following me through the dark. Neither of us had a light and it was
only by the sound of her sobs that I found her. My oldest, I discovered, had
followed also. Thankfully he had brought a light. But, he had let her wander,
and left the younger children alone with IT, to get her back. I quickly scolded
him, but didn’t have time to explain to him the mistake he had made. We rushed
back to where the younger kids were; my wife was nowhere to be seen.
Again
I was faced with a heart rending decision. Do I leave my family to cope on
their own again, or stay with them and leave those who were not here without
the benefits that IT would provide? Finally a break; my wife came from the dark
carrying a light of her own! I passed the baby on to her and rush back into the
dark again, less concerned this time.
I
found the family that had been missing. They had not even been told that IT had
arrived. They scrambled to get their things together to come and help the rest
of the town at the place where IT had now made landfall and had begun
systematically filling the building where the light was.
We
arrived just in time to help. The wind was still blowing and it took several
trips between our house and the building before we had done our part in
handling IT. For my oldest, the endeavor lingered. He would be forced into the
fray again and again, even more times than I was. Handling not only our
family’s duties, but helping others with theirs. He trekked through the dark,
alone on the slippery path, not knowing what would happen to him on the way. I
breathed a great sigh when I saw him reemerge from that sticky darkness for the
final time.
In
the end all went well. The town had never been more efficient in handling IT. Within
half an hour, to the relief of everyone, it was over. Maybe it was because so
many of us had arrived at the same time, or maybe it was because of the
darkness – we all wanted this thing to be over as soon as possible – but all
had faced IT in a way they had not experienced before. How could something so
easy and even enjoyable during the day hold such mystery, danger, and confusion
during the night? It is a question I still haven’t answered.
And
that is the story of when we had to go get our mail at night because the
delivery boat came in late. The End.
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