The Visitors

The limousine plowed a path in the accumulated snow on the highway. A single lane, for motorists brave enough to venture out, was all the driver could see.

“Ma’am, are you sure you want to continue? There’s a hotel in the next town where you can stay the night. This storm doesn’t seem to be getting any better.” Sam glanced in the rear view mirror at his employer.

Karen Quiggsly jerked her head up as the driver's voice intruded into her thoughts. She looked out the window.

When did all this snow start? Had it been snowing when they left St. Paul? The realization she had no memory of leaving the city, or where they were going, threatened to overcome her senses again. She rubbed her face with kid gloved hands. “Sam, I’m sorry. How long have we been driving?”

“We left the Cities two hours ago. We still have a couple of hours to go to get to Duluth. I can only travel the highway safely at this slow speed.” His voice was kind, not condemning her for her lack of judgment.

She looked out the window at the almost white out condition, “I think we need to find shelter, Sam.” The sentence came out in a breath that sounded more like a sigh.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Sam also gave an inward sigh of relief. His hands were shaking from the stress of keeping the big car on the road and in the right lane so they wouldn’t end up in a ditch.

The car’s navigation showed a turn off and a town with gas, food and lodging. He slowly guided the yacht-like vehicle toward the off ramp. The car slid a little on the road and Sam breathed a prayer, “God Help Us.”

“I don’t think God can hear or help anyone. He certainly didn’t help me.” Karen retorted with a scoff.

Sam felt the tires grab the road and the car moved safely to the end of the ramp. He breathed a silent thank you to God for his mercy. He didn’t answer his boss. She was hurting from her tragic loss. Words wouldn’t help. ‘Father,’ Sam prayed silently, ‘Show her your love again.’

He found a hotel, parked on the street as there were many cars lined in the turn out and ran through the snow to the entrance. The door struggled to open with the snow built up in the tracks. He squeezed through the opening and stopped. People packed the lobby area, they left little room for new comers. Most hollered about accommodations. He soon observed there were no rooms, in fact there seemed to be none available in the whole town.

“Tough luck old man. There's nothing here. We can’t even sleep in the lobby.” A man pushed his way past Sam to the door. “I have no idea where my family will stay until the snow is cleared.”

A whistle pierced the air and brought the noise to a silence. “Your attention please! We have a summer resort that’s willing to open its doors. They’ll be here in a few minutes. Please line up in two lines so we can process you quickly.”

The man next to him swore and began to push his way back toward the front. Sam stood near the door and waited for the crowd to fall into two lines.

“I don’t think you’re going to get a room there sir.” A man in a down coat, a deer hunter’s hat, large Surrel boots and fleece lined mittens nodded at the congested group.

“No, it doesn't look like it with this line up. I guess I’ll have to get my employer back on the road and head on up north.”

“Sorry, I just came to tell them the highway is closed.”

Sam felt the air whoosh out of his body. Now what was he to do?

After relaying the message to one of the staff, the man next to him put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Do you believe in fate?”

“No,” Sam answered. “I believe in God.”

“Then you’re prayer was answered. I have a large hunting lodge a couple miles down the road. Bring your man and he can stay with us.”

Sam smiled, “Thank you, but my ‘employer’ is a woman.”

“Better yet. My wife will love having her. I hope she’s the friendly type.” The man waited for Sam to answer.

“Normally she is. She’s just been through a tragedy. Her husband and children were killed in an accident.”

The man nodded. “No problem. Bring her. My name is David and my wife is Sara. Follow me.”

The two went back into the storm and Sam explained the situation to Karen. She just nodded and stared out the window.

Sam grimaced and drove the car at a safe but close distance to the big 4X4 pickup truck David drove.

At the lodge Sam admired the clean lines of the log building and the green tin roof. He would love to stay here. David came to meet him. “I’ll take your bags. You bring her on up to the front.

Sam hesitated but pointed out the ones to bring and opened the door for Karen. “We’re here Ma’am.”

“Where?”

“A lodge. It’s the only place out of the storm, Ma’am.” Sam took her arm and they walked to the front door where a woman waited for them onthe porch.

“Come right in. My name is Sara.” Sara wore her hair short and curled around her face. There was no way to tell her real age unless you asked. One look at the artillery hanging on the walls; it might not be a good idea, Sam thought.

Karen entered the massive great room with interest. The colors calmed her. She turned to Sara.

“Hello, my name is Karen Quiggsley.” She held her hand out to the older woman.

Sara took it in both of hers and gently squeezed it. She looked directly into Karen’s eyes. “You must be tired and hungry. Would you like to eat down here or in your room?”

“My room if it isn’t a bother.”

“No bother a’tall. Come and I'll show you your room.” Sara led the way up a short flight of stair and down a hall. She unlocked the door and Karen followed her in. The bed was a four poster with an colorful quilt. A fire crackled in the stove and a chair with a small ottoman welcomed her.

“Let me take your coat and hang it up. Make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be brought up in an hour.” Sara made sure her guest was comfortable and left.

Karen unfolded the afghan, sat in the chair and stared into the fire.

Her eyes drifted closed, just for a moment when she heard a knock at the door.

A young woman brought a tray of food into the room and set it on the table the tray wobbled and some of the cream spilled. “Would you like me to serve you?”

Karen looked at the service and the young woman whose crooked body caused her to lean against the table. “No,I can get it." Karen replied and went to the table and poured herself a cup of tea.

"I'm sorry, about the cream. I can bring more."

"No, I don't take cream in my tea. Are you alright?" Karen's concern came from her heart before dissenting thoughts could get in the way.

“I was born this way. There's a surgery that will repair my hip, but I have no money to have it or a way to get to Rochester to have it done.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Karen looked at the dinner and the smell caused her stomach to growl. “I guess I was more hungry then I thought. I’ll ring when I’m done.” The woman bowed her head and backed out of the room.

Karen ate the food and she was full. She went back to the chair and the flames of the fire put her to sleep again.

What seemed a short time later, she heard aother knock at the door and an old man came in carrying a large stack of wood in a leather carrier.

“I’m here to replenish the fire.” He nodded at the stove. Karen waved her hand. The man opened the stove and carefully stacked the wood watching it until the fire had taken hold and was roaring heat once again. He stood and Karen noticed his wool jacket had been patched many times. His gloves were torn and the leather patch in the palm was almost worn through to the skin.

“You need better gloves and a warmer jacket in this weather.” the words burst out without her ususal tact.

“I do Ma’am, but my wife is ill and all the money I make goes to her care.” He turned and started to the door, the heat warmed Karen and she didn’t notice the door close behind him.

It was dark the next time Karen woke and was thirsty. The little pitcher next to her was empty. She pushed the button on the wall but no one came. Thirsty and not wanting to drink from the bathroom faucet, she went down the stairs and found her way to the kitchen. At the refrigerator she pressed the button for ice. At the the bottled water dispenser she filled the pitcher.

The back door opened and Karen’s heart about stopped. She flattened herself against the wall. What entered the kitchen was a very young boy.

“My goodness you scared me!” Karen took a deep breath, her free hand over her heart as it pounded in her chest.

The boy looked at her, “Sorry Ma’am.” He went to a box in the corner and filled his canvas bag with staples from its contents.

“Are you stealing from these good people? I cannot allow you to continue.” She set the pitcher on the counter and went to him.

He straightened. “Why should you care if I were? They aren’t anything to you. I’m just a poor boy from a poor family. David and Sara, leave donated food for me to come and get.” He turned away and finished the job. His comment pierced her heart. Did she care if he stole from this couple? He seemed to know what he was doing. He probably wasn’t stealing. He must have permission. She kept her mouth shut. The boy saluted her and went off into the storm. Karen went back to her room and the warmth of the fire and chair.

The memory of her loss threatened to overwhelm her as tears flowed from her eyes and she felt alone. “God, why did you forsake me? Why did this happen to me? Don’t you care about me anymore?” The despair caused more tears and she sobbed.

“Karen, Karen.” A voice cut through her pain. She looked up but all was dark.

“Karen, I haven’t forgotten you. I had no control over Gary’s determination to drive that way home. I tried to make the lights red, slow traffic and the children tried to get him to stop for a treat but he was determined to take them home then get to his racket ball game. That drunk driver had no control over his car when he turned into Gary’s car. I cannot change a person’s will to do what they are determined to do.”

“But you have all the power.” Karen cried.

“Karen, I sent three people to you tonight. Not once did you offer to help them in their situation. The thought went through your mind but you pushed it away only to think of yourself. What more can I do for you? I love you, but you have to let me love and care for you. I promised to send the comforter to you. Will you let him in?”

Karen’s mind went back to the three people who had crossed her path. She was ashamed. “I will do something. I will ask Sara and I promise I will do better.”

“I ALWAYS keep my promises, Karen.” The voice faded.

Karen opened her eyes. The room was light but it wasn’t morning. A knock at her door and a young crippled woman stepped in carrying a tray. “Would you like me to serve you?”