Murphy's Law, of Course

Master Class: Week 7
This week, to keep things interesting, I asked Steph to choose the first line from the fifth chapter of any book of her choosing. She chose Three Junes by Julia Glass. The first line of the fifth chapter is as follows:

“Clever how the cosmos can, in a single portent, be ingratiating yet sadistic.”

Use this line to start your stories. Please be sure to include the sentence in quotation marks.  Congratulations Steph!

"Clever how the cosmos can, in a single portent, be ingratiating yet sadistic."

The day began as most, the grating alarm insisting that I get out of bed.  After long minutes in front of the mirror, I deemed myself ready to greet the world.

Shivering into the winter morning, I cajoled the car into drive.  A quick stop at the corner convenience counter for a glorified hot chocolate pretending to be cappuccino, and my daily scratch off lottery ticket.  Then back to the almost warm front seat.

Since I had some minutes to spare, I sipped my over sugared brew and grabbed my lucky penny. I always used the same coin to scratch the silvery mask from the ticket.

Winner. WINNER!! BIGWINNER!!!

Not enough to quit my job, but perhaps an impromptu vacation was in order. The car rocked along with my happy dance as I planned my sun and fun break.

I called off for the day so I could trek to the closest lottery office. Closest requiring a three hour drive to the Big City.

Halfway to my destination, winter threw the inconvenience of heavy snow frenzied by heavy wind. I belatedly remembered the winter storm warning from the morning news.

Travel quickly became travail as traffic slowed to a crawl on the freeway. Visibility was reduced to a few feet beyond the hood of my car, and evidently for the car behind me.

The seemingly gentle bump sent me spinning across the lane and over the edge.  It wasn't a long drop by any means, and at least the old beast landed upright.  But after a quick trip outside of the car, I could see there was no getting back to the road.

I considered trying to flag a ride. But who would see me?  Or worse, who wouldn't see me and ram me unprotected back to my car.

So, I huddled into the barely warm front seat. And the snow continued.  And the wind. It wasn't long before the reduced view became no view.

*****

I think its been three days now.  I start the car occasionally for heat, but the fear of carbon monoxide keeps me from running it very long. There's snow for water, but not even a candy bar in the glove box to eat.

I haven't heard a snowplow, or any other traffic sounds.

As I consider the cost of medical care for frostbite and starvation, not to mention therapy for post-traumatic stress, I'm pretty sure the sun and fun vacation is off.

I hope my job is still there when the spring thaw finally uncovers me.

Hot Chocolate

        The doorbell rang. Maudie was startled by the sound. How long had it been since any one had rung that bell?

It took a moment for her to pull herself from the chair. Stiff knees and aching hips slowed her progress. She shuffled painfully to the door, pulled the dusty curtain aside to peek out.

A boy of about ten or eleven, stood on the front stoop. His jeans were tucked into red vinyl boots. The collar of the puffy coat he wore framed cold reddened cheeks. He held a snow shovel.

Maudie sighed and opened the door slightly. “What you want, boy?”, she asked in a voice rough from disuse.

The boy looked up at her and smiled hopefully. “Shovel your walk ma’am? Only ten dollars.”

“I ain’t goin’ no where, boy. No need to shovel, it’ll just snow again anyway,” she started to shut the door.

“Please! How ‘bout if it snows again before Christmas , I’ll come back and shovel it again. For free.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Cause your’s is the only place left to shovel. And I only need ten more dollars to get my Ma’s Christmas present,” he flashed another hopeful grin.

Maudie hesitated, then gave in, “Alright boy, but it snows again, you better be here. And for ten dollars, I want you to shovel around to the back door too!”

“Yes ma’am! Thank you, an’ if it snows again, I’ll be back. Promise!” he jumped off the step and started shoveling.

Maudie shut the door and shivered from the cold. She looked back at her comfy chair, then decided to get something warm to drink. She shuffled to the kitchen to brew a cup of tea.

She peered out the kitchen window to see whether the young boy had given up yet. He’d cleared the walk in front of the house and was almost to the stoop again. His breath blowing out in frosty clouds.

She turned to the cupboard for her tea tin. But can of cocoa powder caught her eye.

She heated milk, cocoa, and sugar in an old pot, the spoon she stirred with scraping the bottom in time the the shovel scraping the walk. She poured the chocolate into a mug when the boy knocked on the back door.

She opened the door, “All done then, son?”

“Yes ma’am,” he puffed, “the whole walk. You wanna come look?”

“No, I’ll just have to trust you. Knock that snow off your boots and come in.” She started for the front room and her pocketbook, then stopped. She pulled a second mug from the cupboard and filled it with the rest of the hot chocolate. “Sit here and warm yourself, I’ll be right back with your pay.”

She came back and sat across from him, taking a sip from her own mug. “You got a good present picked out for your Ma?”

“Yes ma’am, a pretty scarf in her favorite color. With butterflies on it.”

“Sounds like a good choice.” She handed him three five dollar bills as he finished his cocoa.

“Ma’am, I only need ten dol…”

Maudie shook her head, “you just remember your promise, boy.” Then she shooed him out the door.

As ran excitedly toward the street, he turned and waved, “Thank you, ma’am!”

She watched him disappear from sight, a rare smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

Then the snow began to fall.