Page 19 of Double Exposure

There’s the muffled sound of someone wrestling with cloth. Jade’s trying to pull the blankets off. Again. She’s relentless. My eyelids fly open. Though the fire has died down somewhat, there is enough light to see her struggling out of the layers. The room is not as warm as it was. The small woodstove is clearly not an all-nighter.

“Hey,” I say, half off the sofa. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“I have to pee,” she says. “Bad.”

I slowly help her up. Standing, with that black mane of hair down her back, I am struck again with how perfect she is. Small and perfect. She can’t be more than five feet.

“Thank you,” she says, gripping my arm. She’s still a little unsteady.

“There you go.” I release my arm from her waist and just leave a hand at her back—just in case. “You okay?”

She nods.

“Do you need help?” I pause. Awkward question.

She glances at me. “I’m good.”

Reaching down, I pull the blanket I was using from the sofa, and drape it around her shoulders.

“I don’t need this either,” she says as I tie the ends under her chin.

“Oh, you will. The one-holer is a bit drafty. Believe me.”

I point her to the door to the left, “You are going to want to make it quick.”

The advice isn’t needed. She’s back in less than a minute. Her hair is dusted with small flakes of snow that must have sifted in between the slats of the wall. They instantly melt in her hair, sparkling like threaded diamonds.

She stares at the mattress for a moment, then me, then the sofa. Pulling the blanket further around her, she glances at the kitchen.

I follow her glance. “You hungry?”

“What time is it?”

I glance at my watch. “Two am.”

She shakes her head.

“It’s my dad,” she says in a chattery whisper, and her dark eyes flicker with fear as a loose window rattles and captures her attention for a moment.

“I know,” I say. “We’ll find him.”

“He’s a photographer. I was supposed to go with him.”

“We’ll do a search when the storm is over. No one can do anything for him in this storm.” I pause. It’s never easy asking the important but hard questions. I feel her knitted hat hanging off the back of a chair and slip it on her head. “How are his survival skills?”

She nods. She knows where I’m going with this.

Her eyelids suddenly drop. “I'm really tired.” A shaky sigh escapes her lips.

“That's okay,” I say. A single tear slips down her left temple. I reach over and wipe the tear with my thumb and stroke her hair back from her forehead with my other hand. “We’ll find him.” I pull out a chair. “You really need to eat something.

She looks around the darkened room. “I have a can of stew and granola bars in my pack.”

The fire pops as I hand her the pack. She fishes around for a few seconds and pulls out a large, squat can.

“I’ll take that,” I say and retrieve the can opener. Lid off, I set the can on the woodstove. “I’d like you to get checked out at the hospital.”

Jade lights the hurricane lantern on the table and for a moment I think it’s just going to sputter out and die. It flickers a few times, then spits to flame. The light bathes her and I can see the worry in her face.