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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: White (10/29/09)

TITLE: White Out
By
11/04/09


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The blizzard had barely subsided before the phone rang. It would be Bill, of that I had little doubt. And it was. This time his furnace wasn’t working. Usually his car needed towing out of the snow. Didn’t matter if we had four feet or four inches, self-sufficiency wasn’t an integral part of his make-up.

I pulled on my muck boots and gloves. The flaps of my hat already covered my ears. My neighbor didn’t belong in eastern Montana. No survival skills, no gun, and his body had a lankiness to it that made you think the individual parts were held together with string.

We only lived half a mile apart, but this accumulation was too deep to skip chains on my Blazer. Frustration made me indignant. It was this kind of indignation that made me vilify him at the bar on a regular basis. I liked to complain about how he put me out. I never mentioned his grown daughter, Adele, or that what I disdained in him, I loved in her. Her meager figure, her gentleness of spirit. Every call for help meant I’d get to see her. This I never mentioned when I groused.

By the time I arrived at his farmhouse, the sun was cutting in horizontally through a thin cloud layer—not that it mattered in the unending white. Bill, bundled up like the Michelin Man, waited for me on his front porch. “Thanks for coming,” he said by way of greeting. “The furnace is out.”

“So you said.” I slammed my door shut. “I want to check your oil tank first.” My money was on a frozen line. I glanced over at the mound that was his Subaru—all wheel drive—like that was enough. No head-bolt heater, either. I’d be called out again tomorrow or the next day to start his engine.

The stairs had been shoveled, but Bill came down them one at a time like a two-year-old. I imagined Adele had worked that chore. At the moment she stood framed in the parlor window, looking smaller than usual, a blanket wrapped about her shoulders. She waved tentative fingers amid fluff. I nodded.

On the last step, Bill almost slipped but righted himself before falling. Lord, I said, looking up, directly into the glare of white reflected off white, light unfiltered—this man can't possibly have been created in Your image.

“This way,” said Bill, as if I didn’t know where his oil tank was. I kept my mouth shut and followed—my eyes beginning to burn. We were passing his barn—two horses the extent of his farming—when the burning turned to searing. My eyes watered from both corners. No shadow, no nuance or poking out of color remained—only glaring white. I had allowed myself to go snow-blind. Bill said, “Hang on a second—I need to crack the ice in the horses’ water trough.”

I didn’t answer. I heard the unlatching of the barn door. He must have turned then because he wanted to know if I was okay—what was wrong?—what did I need him to do?—he wanted to help after all I’d done for him. Those were the last words he uttered (that I heard) before I felt the roaring thud of a snow-laden roof collapsing onto the snow-laden ground. Not a decibel of sound lingered. It was as if all of it had all been sucked up into a wind tunnel that had been turned on, then off—gone in an instant.

I rushed forward, my arms stretched before me. My shin slammed into something impenetrable, and I face-planted onto the packed surface. Noise returned to the landscape. It was me in agony of mind and body. I made it the last few feet to the wreckage. It might as well have been a ton of steel. I don’t know, maybe there’s somebody somewhere that could have moved it, but it wasn’t me. I wasn’t strong enough. Without my eyes, I wasn’t smart enough.




I don’t go to the bar anymore. It took more than a year before I could return to church. God had long since forgiven me, but the realization that there were some mistakes nothing could correct plagued me. Even after I was used to a state of humbleness, it took many more months to reach out to Adele as a husband.

Though she too had forgiven me such a long time ago.


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This article has been read 553 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Beth LaBuff 11/05/09
Your contrasts are so vivid. Bill -- "his body had a lankiness to it that made you think the individual parts were held together with string." and eastern Montana (that required) -- "survival skills, a gun, muck boots, gloves, and a hat with flaps." Then I had to smile at, "this man can't possibly have been created in Your image." -- great characterization of your MC. Your white out descriptions were literally dazzling. The helplessness of your MC after the roof collapse was palpable.

Your creativity and inspiration are amazing in this wonderfully crafted entry.
Loren T. Lowery11/05/09
My favorite line: “…I never mentioned his grown daughter, Adele, or that what I disdained in him, I loved in her.” Aside from the physical attraction, it reveals a part of each of us that is somehow willing to forgive some, but not all equally. It is interesting that your MC seemed to know this before the “incident” at the barn, but was never convicted of it until he became blind. Your piece illustrates that redemption has its price
“that there were some mistakes nothing could correct plagued me” How true and how humbled are we that we struggle so intensely with such non-existent chains of guilt.
Verna Cole Mitchell 11/05/09
Your characters are so real...so human...and your MC so in need of forgiveness... is this wonderfully creative story. I was holding my breath to see what would happen, and then the end blew me away. Outstanding writing!
Sheri Gordon11/07/09
Oh, wow. You have such a gift of placing the reader right into the middle of the story...into the heart of the MC. I had to read this twice to fully appreciate every sentence, every description. The ending totally took me by surprise.
Jan Ackerson 11/09/09
This is very visual, and very real. Love, love, love the little epilog. Beautiful writing.
Barbara Lynn Culler11/09/09
Not sure if I really understand what happened in this story. Did he need forgiveness for his attitude?
Marita Thelander 11/09/09
I like the discriptions in the beginning and i loved this line: this man can't possibly have been created in Your image. But I was a little lost towards the end, too. Maybe I'm just not as deep of thinker as everyone else.

Henry Clemmons11/09/09
Very engrossing tale. I couldn't stop reading. Snow blindness was a unique take on the topic; a very symbolic interpretation of white. This could be a much longer piece because there is a lot of back story I wonder about. Good job.
-Henry
Patricia Turner11/10/09
I knew he was going to get the girl - figured that was the real reason Dad wanted to get him over there so much. But your ending delivered so much more than that! Wonderful!

I love how God uses the weak in this world to humble the arrogant and you showed this so very well.
Sherrie Coronas11/10/09
You create vivid images with tightly written sentences throughout. Another great story that made me wish these pieces could be longer. So enjoyable to read and layered with meaningful messages. Love it.
Betty Castleberry11/11/09
Great hook at the beginning. You had me. I loved the ending, too, not to mention the middle. ;0)
larry troxell 11/11/09
you took my breath away with the descriptions and pulling me into your story. great, great writing.
Mona Purvis11/11/09
You never fail to maze me with your writing. It's all the little extras. What a tale!
Splendid in every way.

mona
Edmond Ng 11/11/09
I love the story and I wish to have it go a few chapters more. The sense of conflict and the emotions are so well captured in the story, I can feel and visualize the goings-on and the surroundings of thick white. All of us certainly need to be humbled at times to appreciate God's gift of the people around us.
Dee Yoder 11/11/09
Oh wow, this is wonderful writing. I felt so sorry for this man at the end...and sorry for the lanky misplaced character who was Adele's dad. Such depth of meaning in this short story.