The Reservation is in the Pacific Northwest, normally an area that has very mild rainy green winters. But every once in a while, out of the blue, there comes a true winter.
As November continues, it gets colder and colder at night. Pipes freeze under some of the older cabins that have been there since the fifties when they were only inhabited in the summer. The random vegetation at the tree line becomes brown, lawns die down. Pets want to be indoors all day.
Then one day the morning sky will be white and low. There will be a peculiar silence. It sounds muffled, like the very atmosphere is soft and close. Then, if it is around 30 degrees, people will start to remark that there are a few snow flakes beginning to fall. They will just be isolated white spots on cars, walkways, patios, etc. Just little fallen stars at first.
That summer and early fall was a busy time for me. Some things stand out in memory. As November started I realized that we would have a white winter most likely. All the signs were there, and I tried to prepare.
First, I bought a late model used Passat for Judy. There would be no more waiting for the bus up on 3rd for Taylor. After what happened neither of us could bear the idea of her riding the bus. Another solution would have been for Judy to walk her to the bus in person and wait for it in the afternoon, but I was happy to provide a secure means of transportation.
Things had changed between Lloyd and I. We were still friends, but on a more equal footing. He never called me Chief again. I was Dan. Just Dan. I felt like I needed to make it up to him almost as much as to his granddaughter and the little one. I was working on that.
One day early in December I drove up to 324 Alder Lane with a small bushy conifer in the back of my pickup, a bag of new lights and other fiddle-faddle, and a couple of grocery sacks of goodies.
Taylor saw me arrive and came bolting out of the door hollering.
“Hey, honey, hi there, look what I have,” I said to her. I picked her up so she could see into the bed of the truck.
“Hi dad,” she said a little solemnly. Judy had instructed her to call me “dad.” I thought she was getting used to the idea of having a father, gradually.
“Would you like to carry a bag into the house,” I asked her, and she jumped at the chance. So, I gave her one of the bags of Christmas treats to carry.
Judy opened the door and said, “Brrrr! Come in! Look at all that fancy stuff Taylor! Wow!” She smiled at me as I carried in the tree, in its little pot, since it was a live tree. In one more trip I brought in the other bags.
The tree was small, so we put it on the table in the living room and spent an hour helping Taylor put the string of lights on it and hang the glass balls and so on. When that was done Judy had some things to do in the kitchen, since I was there to have dinner with them. I was there for dinner quite frequently. It had become a friendly, almost domestic habit. I was getting to know my daughter and she was getting used to me being around herself and her mother.
Just to make everything even more exciting, Taylor noticed that snow was beginning to come down. It had already turned the lawn into a frosted confection in appearance. In the light of the porch lamp, snow fell lightly and yet persistently.
We ate dinner in the living room with the curtains open so that we could see the snow falling. Across the bay, obscured by snow in the air, we could see Christmas lights in yards and living rooms of houses on the other side. A few vehicles were still moving around. I knew that I would have to leave soon, while the road was still drivable, since my parents’ house is on a sharp little incline.
It was a Friday night, so Judy allowed Taylor to stay up a little late, but eventually she got drowsy, and Judy tucked her in for the night. I thought that was a good time for me to head home.
I stood and put on my jacket while Judy was settling Taylor into bed. When she came out of the bedroom, I said, “I better go while I still might be able to get up the hill at home.”
“Thanks for everything, Dan,” she said. She took my hand and gave me a little smooch on my cheek. “Be careful, I know you will,” as I stepped out into the falling snow.
I was opening the driver’s side door and in the light coming from the interior of the cab, I noticed something unusual. The light covering of snow on the driveway was disturbed by footprints. Very large footprints. There was a trail of them up the driveway, across in front of the window, and then around behind the house. I smiled to myself. There was a time when I would have been frightened possibly, or at least very deeply confused. But at this moment, I felt only peace and maybe even love in my heart.
I wondered if maybe he just came by to see how we were all doing, in our odd human lives. I was more comforted than anything else, to think that my elder brother might have come to check on us.
I started my truck up, and drove home, up the little hill in the snow. It was just starting to feel a little slippery.
I parked in the carport. I locked the doors and went into the house. It was cold and dark and very empty in there. Switching the kitchen lights on, and then the living room lamp didn’t help a whole lot. My heart was elsewhere.
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