Page 75 of Falling Slowly
“No signal.” He stared at the screen, frowning.
Were we going deeper into the dead zone with no cell phone coverage? Did that mean we were getting even more lost? There was no way we could return, not with me hanging on Charlie’s back.
“And now it’s dead,” he informed me after tapping the screen a couple of times. “I don’t have a battery pack, sorry.”
“We went for a two-hour hike, Charlie,” I reminded him. “No more apologies.”
“I feel awful that you’re hurt and hungry and we’re lost… This is so not what I wanted for you.”
“Don’t worry about me. My ankle doesn’t hurt that much anymore.” I slid off the rock and placed my foot against the ground and leaned on it to test how it felt. The sharp pain made me wince.
“Stop that! You can’t walk.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Charlie filled his water carrier from the stream and we both had a drink before I climbed back on his back and we continued our way down the hill. After a few more minutes of frantic praying, I spotted something shiny between the trees. A roof! It had to be a roof.
“Charlie! There’s a house. I think there’s a house. Or some sort of building. Or hallucination.”
He picked up speed, nearly jogging over the bumpy landscape. As we got closer, the building took shape. It was small and rusty red, maybe a shed of some kind. But where there was a shed, there was a house.
Once we reached the shed, I saw a small, windy path leading from it towards a larger farmhouse with a wraparound porch. After our long journey, the house looked so homely andinviting that I blinked, half-expecting the vision to vanish like a mirage. But as we got closer, I noticed the dirty work boots and flowerpots by the front door. Signs of life!
Charlie lowered me onto the steps before rapping on the door. I held onto the banister, balancing on my healthy foot. After a moment, we heard footsteps and the door cracked open a little, then all the way. A middle-aged woman with kind eyes and an apron tied over a blouse looked at us quizzically. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, but we got a bit lost when hiking out there and followed the creek down the mountain, hoping we’d find our way back.”
“Oh, dear Lord!” Her eyes widened with compassion. “How long have you been out there?”
“Just one night,” I clarified. “We had water, we’re fine.”
“Except Bess here hurt her ankle and can’t walk.”
“That sounds like a rough journey.” She blew a breath, shaking her head. “How can I help?”
“If I could charge my phone, I could maybe call an Uber or something.”
“There’s no Uber in Cozy Creek. There’s Huber, though.”
“There’s what?” Charlie angled his head like he hadn’t heard that right.
“Jimmy Huber’s rideshare. He doesn’t let his drivers come all the way here, though. Says it’s too far. Anyway, come in from the cold. I’ve got a fire on.” She stepped aside and Charlie helped me into the house.
“I’m Charlie. Charlie Wilde.”
“Anna McGreedy. Welcome to our ranch!” She shook Charlie’s hand in the doorway and led us into a spacious hall, closing the crispy air outside.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Traveling on Charlie’s back, stealing his body heat, I’d kept reasonably warm, but I’d stopped moving. Without the exercise keeping my blood flowing, the coldhad crept up my arms and legs, making the non-injured foot feel so cold it was almost numb.
The living room was cozy, a fire blazing in a small stove. Judging by the paneled windows and worn-out wood floors, the house had history. Charlie set me down in a cozy, quilt-covered armchair, then followed the lady to a large shelf of books and board games. And there, right at the edge, a collection of tangled cables grew out a multi-plug like an electronic hanging plant.
“Lightning cable. Perfect.” Charlie threw me a smile over his shoulder, immediately plugging in his phone. “It’s charging, Bess.”
“Thank you so much,” I said as I caught our host’s eye.
She smiled. “You two are from out of town, aren’t you?”
Charlie looked a little flustered but returned her smile. “Is it that obvious?”
