Vaughn Cort (F)

“Add to the account?”

“Yep, Pete. Thanks.”

The store proprietor wrote out the receipt. “Road crew from Kenora says they’re ready to run the plows this weekend if the forecast holds.”

“I heard the forecast.”

“Not ready to call it a season?”

“Not yet. Just think I can get in another week, maybe two.”

“Must be awfully cold in that old cabin.”

“Damn cold, truthfully. But just another week or so.”

“Okay, Vaughn. Maybe this week is the big one for you. Take care out there.”

Vaughn nodded and picked up a full sack in each arm. The walk down to the boat was short but steep. The gray cloud cover was low and the air hung heavy.

The ride out through the small passes between tiny islands, some not much more than rock outcroppings, took less than an hour. There were no gulls about, no loons, no geese. No sound other than his own motor. Vaughn was grateful for the lack of wind and the rain holding off.

Back at the dock, he tied off the boat and toted the groceries up the steps to the tiny prospector’s cabin. Vaughn set the bags on the counter and took off his coat and hat and tossed them on the small dining table. He lit the small gas stove to heat water for coffee, and as he put away his food for the week, he heard the wind come up.

He grabbed two of his 2-gallon jugs and jogged down to the pump. At least the lake water was still clean, and as always would be cold. Vaughn set the jugs down and began to pump. The line would take about 2 dozen pumps to get the water flowing.

Just as the water began to run, a chilly rain started to fall.  Vaughn slid a jug under the spigot. As the jug filled the wind blew a little harder and the rain intensified. He finished with the first jug and rubbed his wet bare hands on his jeans.

As he pushed the second jug into place, the first snowflakes appeared. He kept pumping as he felt the wind push harder against his back and legs soaked from the rain. Then the rain was gone, now all snow. Steadily he pumped, his hands turning red in the cold.

Vaughn gave his head a little shake. “What the hell am I doing out here?”

Lyman 2023