Chapter 4 #2
Mr. Michael Keaton settled down, lying flat on my belly, his excited pants tickling my nose. His eyebrows lifted curiously, and he gave a little yap.
“Ah… you’re guessing a secret third thing?
Very interesting wager, old boy. You’re on.
Loser has to take over journaling for a week.
” I rolled over, pushing his bulk from me as I slid off the bed to get dressed.
“All I’m saying is, I feel pretty confident about the talking bear, so best you start working on your penmanship. ”
The remnants of Gemma’s call still clung to me as I went through my closet, leaving me feeling more agitated than I cared to admit. I glanced down at Michael Keaton, who’d taken up a spot by my feet, his warm eyes watching me with almost human understanding.
“You probably think I should journal about it, huh?” I quipped, offering him a wry smile. He cocked his head to the side as though he were considering the idea. “Yeah, I thought so.”
But I had a better idea. It was a distraction, something to pull me out of the whirlwind of emotions that the morning had stirred up. I got dressed and went to the door for my coat and boots.
“Bundle up, buddy. We’re going out.”
With Michael Keaton at my side, I trudged out into the frigid air, the wind howling around us as the storm continued to build. It would be landing soon, no doubt, and I wanted to be sure I was prepared.
It was a mission getting to the small shed at the side of the cabin, but we fought our way through it. In from the cold, I stared at the mountains of fresh firewood I had stored there. We’d probably be losing power at some point and keeping warm was a top priority.
“I’ll be damned if we end up being one of those stories from an archeological dig a thousand years from now,” I muttered, deconstructing one of the neat piles closest to me. “Woman and dog skeletons found clinging to one another, frozen in death the way they likely lived. Together.”
He jumped up against my leg and barked loudly, his tongue coming out in a playful pant. I ruffled his fur and smiled.
“I know, I know. A love story for the ages. But still… How about we try to avoid that particular method of ultimate demise?”
I loaded up the wheelbarrow with as many pieces as the old, rusty thing could take. Then we made our way back. The snow was already deep enough to make every step a struggle. I could feel Michael Keaton’s warm presence beside me, his fur brushing against my leg.
Back inside, the cozy warmth of the cabin was a welcome reprieve from the deathly cold outside. I carefully stacked the wood beside the crackling fireplace and glanced over at Michael Keaton. He’d taken up his usual spot on the rug in front of the hearth, seemingly exhausted from our little trip.
The corners of my mouth tugged into a smile.
“How about a game of chess when I’m finished here?
” I suggested in a teasing tone. He responded with a low, mournful whine, as if he suddenly remembered all the times his attempts at the game didn’t end in his favor.
“Come on.” I laughed out loud. “I need all the wins I can get today, boy.”
Michael Keaton’s sad eyes stared back at me. But before our playful banter could continue, chaos erupted.
A sudden, powerful gust of wind slammed into the cabin like a freight train. The door burst open, hinges protesting as it swung wildly on its frame, banging and knocking against the wall with an unsettling intensity.
Papers, books, and pretty much everything in the cabin that wasn’t nailed down went flying. I jumped to my feet in an urgent attempt to get to the door, but Michael Keaton was faster. Ever sensitive to sudden disturbances, he bolted from his spot on the rug and made a mad dash outside.
I got to the door in time to catch a glimpse of his golden coat being swallowed by the raging storm. “Micheal Keaton, no!”
Panic surged through me like a lightning strike, and I sprinted out after him.
“Stop! Come back!” I yelled into the angry gloom, my desperate voice barely audible over the roar of mother nature.
But he didn’t stop, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to come back.
Michael Keaton seemed to be on a mission of his own.
He ran over to the base of a small hill, his senses fully engaged, sniffing and circling around something I couldn’t quite make out in the blinding snow.
His loud whining rose up over the wind like an alarm bell, leaving me no choice but to follow him.
The wind tore through me with blistering, icy cold, making my teeth chatter violently as I pulled my coat tightly closed around me. When I finally reached him, the storm still whirling dangerously around us, my heart sank.
There, half-buried in the snow, lay a woman, her face pale and unmoving. Snowflakes clung to her like a frosty shroud.
“What you got there, boy?” I murmured, a hint of trepidation in my voice.
She looked dead. She was probably dead. I could take my dog, turn around, and go back to life as normal without a smidgeon of guilt. Call the mountain ranger and have them deal with it. They did people better than I did, anyway.
Hell, anyone would be better at people than me.
Michael Keaton licked the woman’s face and… My eyes could’ve been playing tricks on me. What, with the wind blowing my hair in my face, and the snow, and the storm and…
But he licked, and there was a twitch of an eyebrow. Minuscule, but a twitch.
“Well, shit.”
Michael Keaton barked insistently, dancing on the spot, his paws digging deep trenches around the woman’s head. He wouldn’t budge, and his barking sounded like a plea. It was as if he knew what I was thinking and wanted me to choose the opposite.
That’s when it hit me. Our little bet we had going.
The woman lying passed out in the snow certainly wasn’t a talking bear. And she wasn’t a fantastic tornado that would up and away us to a far-off land. Which meant I was staring down at Michael Keaton’s guess—a secret third thing.
“Okay, fine. You win.”
Without another thought, I scooped the woman into my arms, feeling the cold seep through my coat.
She was light, fragile, and her body felt stiff from exposure to the biting conditions.
My heart pounded as I began the laborious journey back to the cabin, with Michael Keaton trotting happily alongside me.