The Gift by Ed Zaruk (best book reader TXT) 📖

Jake glanced out a window, falling snow darkening his mood. “What do you mean by missing?” Jake asked, glancing at his wife. Intuition, he thought, wondering how women knew when something was amiss.
“He left Red Lake and never arrived here. That’s all we know for certain.”
“Mechanical problems?”
“Let’s hope so.”
Jake asked the question he dreaded hearing the answer to anytime things went wrong. “Weather?”
“Touch and go. There was a front moving in from Manitoba, but he should have been able to skirt it.”
Jake grabbed the towel as it began to slip loose. “You send anyone to look?”
“No. This developed as it got dark.”
“Okay, Ken. Get all our mechanics to come in early. Have every plane we’ve got ready by sunrise. Phone enough people to put two to a plane. Give Keith over at Parsons Airways a call. No never mind, I’ll do it. You think of anything else?”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll be in at five-thirty. Call me if things change.”
“Will do.”
“What?” Vivian asked as Jake set down the receiver.
“Pat’s missing.”
“Oh God!” Her thoughts turned to Sharon.

Chapter Five

“There!” Ken pointed to rising smoke.
Jake banked right. “Well at least he knows how to build a fire.”
“Probably got oatmeal cooking for us,” Ken said as Jake flew toward the wreckage. Ken truly liked Pat, liked him from the moment he hired him. Although he’d made it a policy not to demand his pilots fly in bad weather, there were times when things came up that took the decision out of his hands. So he’d made it his policy to ask his pilots, knowing that very few would refuse when things were marginal at best, ugly at the worst. Yet, he felt yesterday was well within the margins of safety he and Jake had worked hard to establish.
Jake banked in a tight circle over the wrecked plane. “Looks like he caught a wing tip and cartwheeled in. He’s lucky to be alive.” Easing off the throttle, and lowering the flaps, he touched down and while taxiing up to the wrecked air plane, a lone figure got up from the fire. Both Jake and Ken recognized Stan Holstrom, one of the fishermen they regularly hauled fish for.
“Where’s Pat?” Jake hollered as the engine rattled to a halt and he reached for his seatbelt.”
“Dead.”
Hearing the word, Jake stopped undoing his belt and hung his head.
Ken struck his hand on the instrument panel. “Damn.”
Joe waited for the men to speak.
Pat’s death settled on Ken, an overwhelming responsibility for sending the kid out yesterday gnawing away at his insides. He could only stare out the front windshield.
“Where’s his body?’ Jake asked with a sigh.
“At my cabin across the lake. Both men are dead.”
Jake took a moment to look over at Ken, then reached for the microphone, they needed a bigger airplane. “Al, you there?”
Ken shook his head as Jake’s eyes asked the question.
“Yeah, Jake. Go ahead.”
“Pat’s plane’s down here on Deception Lake.” Jake paused. “Where are you?”
“Out by Big Grassy. Ah, I’d guess about ten minutes away.”
“Okay. When you get here, land by my plane, got that?”
“Your plane. Right.”
Joe had climbed into the cabin and was seated in the back. Jake closed his door then taxied across the frozen surface, parking where Joe’s tracks left the lake shore.
Ken took the mike from Jake and raised Red Lake. When Shirley answered, he told her what happened and issued instructions.

Chapter Six

Vivian hesitated before ringing the doorbell. Gathering her thoughts, she wondered how her courage would hold out. She liked Sharon, liked her a lot. The girl was a good mother and certainly in love with her husband. And here she stood about to destroy all that.
Shirley’s instructions had been clear. She was to come directly here before the news got out. Having thought the worst through a sleepless night, Vivian was prepared for the bad news. Sharon wouldn’t be. Jamming her finger against the button, she fought the inclination to turn and walk away.
“Come in.”
The front door opened directly into the living room. Vivian stepped in to see Sharon feeding the baby under her blouse. Life doesn’t make this any easier, she thought, calming her heart, and walking over to sit beside the nursing mother on her sofa.
Sharon read the entire message in Vivian’s eyes. "No!”
“I’m so sorry.” Vivian reached to touch Sharon on the shoulder. But as the baby slipped from her arms, Vivian took the child, cradling it as Sharon buried her face in both hands and broke down.
Vivian looked across the room and saw gift-wrapped presents under a small Christmas tree.

Chapter Seven

December twenty-fourth is the worst day to hold a funeral. People have travel plans made and are trying to squeeze in last minute shopping. It’s supposed to be a time of birth and joy. For that reason the grief over Pat’s death was all the more intense.
Enough people attended the funeral at the Knox United Church to fill the front half dozen pews. All the English Air people attended, including Shirley, three pilots, and the mechanic from Red Lake. Keith and Lil Parsons, along with Bud sat toward the rear, Abe Williston and Cindy in front of them.
A black veil covering her face, Sharon sat up front between her parents. Her mother held the baby, while little Katie sat beside her grandfather, holding his hand.
Vivian, two rows back, held Jake’s hand as the minister talked about God wanting Pat in heaven at this time. She squeezed her husband’s fingers so tight he looked at her, then set his free hand on hers.
Death was no stranger to Vivian. She’d been to other funeral’s including her mother’s, but this was the first time the deceased was younger than her. She firmly believed in God. Nights spent out at Scenic Lake counting the stars in a black velvet sky had convinced her of His existence. She believed He was loving and kind, but taking Pat from his wife and babies was just mean spirited. There had to be another reason why people died. Her train of thought was broken when Ken got up to give the eulogy.
It snowed at the grave site. Cold harsh snow. Such was the feeling of death.

Chapter Eight

Christmas day, Vivian awoke to the squeal and delight of her children opening presents. Jake brought her coffee with Irish Cream in bed and after the commotion died down, they got up, and together walked into a living room strewn with torn wrapping paper. Jake hugged his girls and son as they showed off their presents, then broke free and picked up a small package with holly and candy-cane wrapping.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, handing it to Vivian.
She took it, a picture of unopened presents under Sharon’s tree overlaying the moment. Unwrapping his gift, she smiled. “It’s beautiful!” Holding the diamond necklace to the light, she watched it dance with fire, then put it around her neck. “Thank you.” She kissed Jake before picking up his gift. While holding it in both hands, Sharon came to mind again, sitting alone with her present for Pat in an empty room. As Jake took the package, she impulsively encircled him with both arms, squeezing tight, why, she didn’t know. At this moment, all that really mattered in this world was to be close to her man. Laying her head on his chest, she reflected on life, hanging by such a tenuous thread.
Releasing him, she stifled a tear, unable to say, “Merry Christmas,” as he undid the wrapping. “I love you so very, very much,” she whispered as he opened the box containing a glass dome which housed a clock that would run for 400 days.
Jake set it on the mantle above the fireplace. Removing the glass dome, he wound the clock and it began ticking off the remaining minutes of their life. Vivian watched her husband carefully replace the dome, praying he’d be around to wind it a second time.

Imprint

Text: © 2009 Haakon Publishing
Publication Date: 12-23-2009

All Rights Reserved