Don't Fix Me; A Short Story

This is a story taken from my collection of short stories, My People, My Stories. It contains 50 short stories. It is available in Kindle version or paperback.

Don't Fix Me

Hank met Gregg for coffee at a quiet coffee shop not far from Gregg’s work. They ordered the usual. They sat near the window to stare at the falling snow.

“I like the snow,” Hank said. “It reminds me of my childhood.”

“It reminds me of shoveling our driveway all day long,” Gregg said. “Hard work, that’s what it reminds me of.”

Hank sipped his coffee and thought for a moment.

“But there was always a pleasure in accomplishing it,” Gregg said. “One must take pleasure in his accomplishment, don’t you agree?”

“Certainly,” Hank said. “Otherwise everything is drudgery. The coffee is really good this morning.”

Gregg pulled the cup from his lips. “That’s why we go here. The coffee is always good.”

Hank smiled. “The baristas take pride in what they do.”

“I read your blog this morning,” Gregg said. “It seemed depressing to me.”

“Yes,” Hank said. “I wrote it last night. I wasn’t feeling all that well.”

“You should have given me a call,” Gregg said. “My wife and I would have delighted to have you over for company.”

“That’s kind of you to say that,” Hank said. “But I would have been best by myself.”

“You seem to put a lot of time into your blog,” Gregg said. “Who reads it?”

“Well for one,” Hank said, “you do. But I think it’s more important that it is written rather than read.”

“Blogging seems so impersonal,” Greg said. “You sometimes spill your emotions to those who don’t care.”

“Like I said,” Hank said. “It’s good just to say things without bothering those who you know. You don’t always want or need help. Sometimes friends want to jump in and fix something and they end up breaking something. So I just write.”

“Don’t you want to be fixed if you're broken?” Gregg said.

“All of my friends and most importantly me, love the broken me,” Hank said. “Who knows what the fixed me would be like. I may not like snow or coffee.”

Shepherd's First Winter; Cold and Love, Episode 27

This is the twenty-seventh episode of the novel Shepherd's First Winter. It is available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle 

format. 

Cold and Love

With the sun in full view, Daniel and his family boarded their snow machines and buzzed north and disappeared into the stream bed that led to the river that would lead them to their home.

Loneliness descended on Shepherd as if an angel of death swooping from the mountains to the north carrying abandonment and foreboding. Angry clouds like galloping grey steeds wielding frozen swords of pain invaded the wilderness around Shepherd’s cabin.

Shepherd split wood at a furious and fearful pace and stacked it on the porch.

He stood before the fire to warm himself and listened to the radio. The barometric pressure plummeted.

He split and stacked more wood. Pal and Trap looked on as if lending moral support. Shepherd puffed and blew vapor from his lungs like a steam locomotive.

Above him, he heard the wind pass through the pines like a bow over the stings of violins. It was the hideous sound of a mad and demented composer. In moments, a coldness swept by him as if somebody suddenly opened the door. He split feverishly like bailing water from a sinking boat.

His instincts alerted the weather coming like nothing he had ever experienced. He began to doubt his survival. It was like watching a wave advancing in which there was no hope, only the inevitability of being swallowed.

He closed the shutters and secured them.

Shepherd stood at the front of the cabin a short distance away facing the wind in defiance. His thoughts drifted to Daniel and his family but assured that he was wise of the ways of the wilderness and home safe. Suddenly without warning a warmth came over him. It was like embers laying deep in his chest and radiated to his entire body. His muscles relaxed. It was Nan; sweet, pure, strong, vibrant, and comely - a jewel of the north.

Shepherd turned to the cabin as if in a trance and it was a trance. He stumbled on the first step. He sat on the steps as the cold rushed around him. He thought, “I have instincts for everything, but emotions and love.” A thousand frames sped through his mind; the smiles, the glances, the tears, the expressions, the words; all the signs that

Nan was falling in love with him… and he with her.”

Shepherd's First Winter: Nan's Tears, Episode 26

This is the twenty-sixth episode of the novel Shepherd's First Winter. It is available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle 

format. 

Nan’s Tears

Shepherd cooked all morning long. He was anxious about his visitors. He checked the clock that hung on a beam in the kitchen. He constantly heard the hum of snow machine engines that Pal and Trap couldn’t hear. He felt a strong bond with Daniel’s family. It was nothing he had experienced before. Pal and Trap had the feeling something special was planned. It made them fidgety and restless.

Shepherd prepared a big meal: a canned ham scored and with cloves, candied yams, green beans, cranberry jelly, biscuits, dinner rolls, pumpkin pie, blueberry pie, apple cider, and white wine.

The sun was three-quarters over the southern sky when the dogs reacted to the buzz of distant snow machines.

Daniel and his family arrived and soon the cabin was filled with joy, laughter, and noise. They ate and played cards and games. At times Shepherd stopped to observe the joy of family. At times his eyes became moist.

Shepherd stood back and watched Daniel, Maggie, and the boys playing a highly competitive and animated game of slapjack. Nan stood on the other side of the table opposite Shepherd.

Nan edged to the other side of the table and whispered to Shepherd, “Are you alright? You seem to be crying.”

“They are called tears of joy,” Shepherd whispered. “I never thought I would be around people this happy and feel this happy.”

Nan gently squeezed his hand and returned to the other side of the table.

The game ended with Maggie the declared winner to a chorus of boos, but she regaled in victory. The only one to cheer for her was Shepherd.

“I see a guitar in the corner,” Nan said. “Do you play it or dust it?”

“I really don’t play well,” Shepherd said.

Izzy walked over to the corner and picked it up. “There is dust on his bookshelf, but none on the guitar,” he said.

“Izzy!” Maggie said. “We are guests. That is impolite.”

“He’s making a point,” Shepherd said, “I play the guitar more than I dust.”

Izzy handed the guitar to Shepherd. “Play us something.”

“I’m shy about it,” Shepherd said.

“We are friends,” Daniel said. “There is no better way to know one another than to share your embarrassment.” Daniel nodded. “Let us be friends.”

“Sure,” Shepherd said, “I’ll play something, but whoever laughs sleeps on the porch.”

Shepherd cradled the guitar and tuned it. Then, looking into the fire, he sang "I Am I Said" with a few alterations.

“Alaska’s fine, the sun don’t shine most the time

The feeling is laid back

Pine trees grow and temperatures low

But you know never thinking about

Making my way back

Well, I'm New York City-born and raised

But nowadays, I'm lost between two shores

Alaska’s fine, now it’s home

New York's not home to me no more

I am, I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair
I am, I cried
I am, said I
And I am lost, and I can't even say why
Leavin' me lonely still

Did you ever read about a frog who dreamed of being a king
And then became one
Well, except for the names and a few other changes
If you talk about me, the story's the same one

But I got an emptiness deep inside
And I've tried but it won't let me go
And I'm not a man who likes to swear
But I've never cared for the sound of being alone

I am, I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair
I am, I cried
I am, said I
And I am lost, and I can't even say why

I am, I said
I am, I cried
I am…”

Everyone applauded except Nan. Shepherd saw a tear roll from her moist eyes.

Shepherd's First Winter; Change, Episode 25

This is the twenty-fifth episode of the novel Shepherd's First Winter. It is available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle 

format. 

Change

The men at the council meeting a few months ago are good and honorable men,” Daniel said. “But there are a couple who live in fear.”

“Fear of what?” Shepherd said.

“In their lifetime they will see their ways disappear,” Daniel said. “You represent that fear.”

“All I want to do is live out here and be left alone,” Shepherd said, “and help where I can.”

“Most of the men know that,” Daniel said. “They could see it in your eyes. They all recognized the risk of coming all the way from your place to out here and into Ruby. They know you are a good and brave man for doing that. But there are some, that no matter what you do, it will never be enough.”

“I don’t want to change anything,” Shepherd said.

“We are not afraid of change,” Daniel smiled. “Some change is good. It is our identity, our culture, our ways. But everybody’s ways change. Few cultures live like they did three hundred years ago. Even the ones who don’t want change want to hold on to snow machines, rifles, TV sets, and liquor?”

“They fear the white man,” Shepherd said.

“Yes, my friend,” Daniel said.

“And a friend of the white man is their enemy,” Shepherd said.

Daniel and Nan glanced at each other uncomfortably.

“Is this visit to tell me we can no longer be friends?” Shepherd said.

“That will never happen,” Daniel said, “I only want you to know there are others willing to be your friend also. Don’t be afraid to look beyond our family.”

“We only want you to be cautious, Shepherd,” Nan said. “We want nothing bad to happen to you. We will do what we can.”

“Do you know of specific threats to me?” Shepherd said.

“No,” Daniel said, “there will be a coldness by a few and perhaps someone will sneak out and slip sugar in your tank.”

“How long will it go on?” Shepherd ask.

“Until they know you are not going to move or you shoot one of them,” Daniel said.

“Well,” Shepherd said, “I don’t want to shoot anybody.”

“Sometimes if you just come close that will be enough,” Daniel said.

“Yeah,” Nan said. “Enough to let them know you are serious.”

“Well,” Shepherd smiled, “I’m not leaving. This is still better than where I came from.”

“We are glad,” Nan said. “The boys said if Amoruk cannot scare him…”

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” Shepherd said.

“Nan says it’s okay. I know the boys will want to play with the wolf. I must okay it with my wife, but I think she would like to eat out sometime,” Daniel smiled broadly. “There are so few places.”