The Longest Winter
Chapter 7
The rain and light hail continued for the rest of the day. By the time it stopped it was almost dark. The storm brought with it a drop in temperature. The mare could see her breath as she woke up shivering. Her foals had burrowed as deep as they could into her belly fluff and managed to stay warm.
Their mother needed food but worried about disturbing their toasty positions. She decided to wait until their hunger overrode their desire to stay warm. Soon they were prodding her teats, shivering, and begging for milk.
The mare arose from her warm nest of leaves and moved over to the corner to eat a few onions and a bit of moss. It wasn’t much, but it would provide her and her babies just enough nourishment to survive.
She poked her head outside and looked around, sniffing the air. She smelled rotting corpses. She squinted to see a murder of crows pecking at one of the coyote corpses. Their eerie cries filled the sunset sky. However the rain clouds also created the most beautiful sunset that the mare had ever seen. Her eyes watched it for a moment. She was in awe of how death and beauty naturally co-existed in one scene before her eyes.
She heard her babies squealing in protest and pulled her head back inside the porch. She returned to the nest and let them battle over her teats. This time it was the unicorn runt that needed held while her brothers suckled. The mother sang her nursing song and buried the crying foal into her chest for warmth. Once there was a tiny bit of milk left she switched the tiny unicorn with her green earthy brother and let her drink the rest.
As usual the chubby green foal threw a fit after being pulled away from his food. He desperately tried to free himself from his mother’s firm grip. She could feel that he had lost a little weight. Her heart sank. She wished that she could eat all of the food she had and give them all full, happy tummies, but she needed to survive the winter. The nursing song didn’t work this time, the children were still hungry and wanted more milk. The mother stared hopelessly at her small pile of food rations as her babies pushed against her empty belly. It groaned with hunger as her mouth began to water.
She sighed and curled into a ball, muffling her babies’ cries as she did her best to keep them warm. The wind continued to howl around the porch, each crack letting in an icy cold breeze. It was going to be a long night.
Meanwhile, inside the cottage, the old woman sat in her chair and listened to the storm. The strong winds rattled every window in the house, but the fireplace kept her warm. She rocked gently and slowly in her old wooden rocking chair with her favorite homemade quilt over her lap, her slippers peeking out from the bottom.
She couldn’t help but wonder how the mare was doing out under the porch. Without proper insulation the porch was sure to be freezing cold in the storm. She had watched the mare frantically gather leaves for her nest, but would it be enough?
The old woman wondered how long it had been since the last time she had something to worry about besides herself. Her husband died overseas in the war many years ago and she never remarried. Her two kids had grown up and had lives of their own now. They only visited a couple times a year for the holidays. She recently had a cat, but it died of old age last spring. She was alone now. Just her and her old cottage home.
Her kids had tried to get her to move into a nursing home near where they lived, but she loved her little house too much, as well as the small town and all of its inhabitants. She knew practicality everyone who lived throughout the village - from the old folks she grew up with to their kids and grandchildren. Not to mention she loved the woodlands around her. The fresh smell of pine and the sounds of nature comforted her on daily basis. She’d die in this cabin, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
She watched the fire for a bit, thinking about the mare again. For the first time in months she wasn’t entirely alone. She looked at the old phone sitting on the table next to her. She picked it up and dialed the old rotary on the front.
“Hello?” The young man answered.
“Hello Jeremy, sorry to bother you at home.” Said the old woman politely.
“Oh, hello Ms. Ruth.” The young man answered. “Everything ok? Is the storm causing you trouble?”
“No, no.” Ruth replied. “I was just wondering if I could add a few things to my order this week.”
“Sure, no problem.” Said Jeremy. “What were ya needing?”
“I need you to stop by the general store, you know how they have that small pet section?” Ruth inquired.
“Yeah…” Jeremy said with a confused tone.
“I want you to get me a bag of feed. Something good for horses.” Ruth said.
“The general store won’t have that, but the farm supply might.” Jeremy said, scratching his head. “What do you need this for, Ms. Ruth? You ain’t got no horses.”
“Well…” Ruth said with a sigh. “I’ve got one of those fluffy ponies under my porch, and the poor thing is barely surviving out there. I’d like to…”
“Oh no.” Jeremy interrupted. “Ms. Ruth, those things are like rats! We need clear them out right away!”
“Oh no you don’t!” Ruth said sternly. “I know what you’re thinking, and I won’t hear another word. I know a thing or two about animals, and these weren’t rabid or dangerous.”
Jeremy sighed. “Alright then. I’ll ask around and try to get some supplies for you.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Ruth said with a smile. “And maybe stop by the library and see if they have any books on the subject.”
“Ok Ms. Ruth.” Jeremy said in a worried voice. “If you insist.”
Ruth said her goodbye and hung up the phone.
She wondered if she should go out and check on the mare under the porch before her and her babies froze to death. But she also didn’t want to frighten them again. Perhaps if she was careful she could just take a peek. She tied her robe tightly around her waist and grabbed her little flashlight off of the table and stepped into her rubber boots. She took a look at Debby leaning against the door, fully loaded.
“Nah.” She said, shaking her head. “I’ll just take Betty.”
‘Betty’ was a .22 Winchester Magnum Revolver hanging on the side of the cottage door. Ruth place it in her robe just in case. She carefully unlocked the cottage door and slowly pulled it open. She didn’t want to scare the mare sleeping beneath the porch.
She slowly made her way down the porch stairs and around the side of the porch. She clicked the flashlight on and checked the woods around her. Nothing seemed to be out there, and all she could hear was the wind. It blew right through her robe and chilled her to the bone. She needed to be quick lest she catch her death.
Ruth knelt down and slowly pulled the light up towards the hole in the porch. She squinted as her eyes adjusted. She could just barely make out the sleeping ball of fluff surrounded by leaves. She took an extra second to watch the shadow breathe, and she heard the hungry babies chirping.
They’re alive! She thought to herself. She smiled and nodded. She knew that little mother was too tough to quit! She stood up and quietly made her way back inside. As she came in and stepped out of her rubber boots, she nodded again. She had made up her mind. She was going to help those fluffies, and nothing would stop her.
The old woman made her way to the wood pile and grabbed a fresh log for the fire. The cottage would be warm tonight. She placed Betty back on the hook by the door and the flashlight back on the table. She slumped into her chair and slowly rocked herself to sleep.