Dead End Paradise

Chapter 4

I awoke under a pile of pillows and fluffy blankets. For the first time in a long while, I felt completely rested. I sat up and stretched, hearing the satisfying crackle of my joints. Sunlight streamed in through the sheer curtains on the window in front of me. I stood and pulled them apart, amazed by the miraculous sight before me. It was hard to believe that the violent storm last night had resulted in such a calm landscape this morning. The hills behind the house cascaded downwards, covered in a thick blanket of snow. I truly was lucky, as I could see no other building as far as the horizon. Other than Amelia's house, the emptiness stretched on for miles. Were it not for her beacon of light, I may have frozen out there in the dark.

I looked around the room, trying to get my bearings. It was late, and very dark, when I had made my way to bed. My own clothes were sitting on a chair by the door, appearing there as if by magic in the middle of the night. They were dry and folded, and smelled the same as the towels. She had washed them. When, I had no idea, but it must have been after I fell asleep. I changed quickly, the now familiar sound of music beginning to reach my room.

"I'm making French toast!" Amelia exclaimed, as soon as she saw me at the top of the stairs. She paced the kitchen, doing slow laps around the island in the middle. Every time she ended up back at the stove, she checked the French toast frying in the pan. It became apparent that she was physically unable to stand still. Even last night, as I sat on the couch, she stood and swayed as we talked.

"Thanks for my clothes," I replied, leaning on the counter. The island was covered in bowls full of fruit and jars of toppings. Two large jugs sat in the middle, each filled with some kind of juice. "When did you have time to do all of this?" I asked, catching sight of a clock on the wall and noting the time.

"I don't really sleep that much," she replied, refusing to look me in the eye. Motioning to my clothes, she added, "And I had to put in a load anyway."

We ate in silence after that. Gone was the witty banter from last night, replaced by the eerie silence of the house. The only sounds that rang out were those of forks against our plates. My mind drifted, trying to calculate the exact moment I had made things awkward. It was then that it occurred to me that Amelia didn't like to talk about herself. Even last night, it seemed like I had done much of the talking. She, of course, had made jokes and smart retorts; but every time I asked her questions, she would brush me off. She was fine this morning until I asked her about the clothes.

"We can try to dig your car out when we're done," Amelia said, breaking the silence and me out of my pondering. While I thought, she had finished her breakfast and was sitting back in her chair sipping her drink. She seemed more relaxed than moments ago; it wasn't until many days later that I understand her sudden changes in demeanor. Regardless, she was back to her confident self.

"If we can still find it," I shot back before putting down my fork and downing the rest of my drink. Amelia smiled, a twinkle in her eye telling me she knew something I didn't. She put her fingers to her lips and let out a shrill whistle. From the depths of the house streaked two fluffy black and white mounds. In seconds, the sleek huskies were sitting patiently at Amelia's feet, their heads in her lap looking for affection.

"Zeus and Hera," Amelia said, pointing to each in turn. "I had them downstairs during the storm," she continued, answering the question that must have been written on my face.

As soon as we had bundled ourselves against the cold, Amelia and I made our way into the garage. Zeus and Hera were close on her heels, only looking away from her when my fingertips would brush against their silky fur. With a word from Amelia, they were in the back of a massive black SUV. We climbed in after; made difficult by the copious amount of layers we were wearing. Amelia looked over at me, her hand hovering over the gearshift. She grinned before throwing the vehicle into gear. It leaped from the open garage and sped out across the fresh snow. I gripped the armrest, hoping I wasn't in for another snowy walk back to the house.