descriptive essay

Becky Harlan (lee)

Mr. Neuburger           

Eng. 101-103

05 February 2013

The Loss

            There I was, out in the middle of nowhere. I rather missed the city for a moment, but then again, it was like I was still there; the wolves were my only friends and the trees would wave at me like they were my nosey neighbors. The wind was like an enemy, which would stab me in the back, as soon as my back was turned to it. The birds were hustling around, fighting to get as many seeds as they could. They reminded me of little old ladies, trying to get the best items on sale before anyone else had a chance to even look at them. I began to feel right at home, and remembered why I was there in the first place.

            I looked at the old, rustic, run-down cabin, and thought about how I was going to be as miserable as a homeless cat in the rain. I stepped onto the first warped plank of the makeshift stairs leading to the porch. It creaked as if I was walking into an old haunted house. I took another step trying to pay attention to where I put my feet. I could practically see the tetanus on the nails trying to ambush me, like a lioness does a gazelle. Finally, I reached the door handle, and when I grabbed it, it felt like my skin was going to stick to the metal. The agonizing pain of the coldness was enough to make a polar bear shiver. I tried to imagine the warmth of the fire that would soon be in the fireplace as it melts my cold achy bones, as if they were ice cubes in a glass of sweet tea on a hot summer day.

            This was no camping trip, I had to be there, and I had no choice. The memories flooded my head like water bursting through a dam. I walked through the door expecting it to be the same as it was when I was a child. There would be this fresh aroma of red toro tobacco, lingering in the air from a pipe. The sun rays beaming through the windows, with dust particles dancing in it. There would be chuckling of laughter and happiness that filled the room with warmth. Instead, I was greeted with this sense of a stale, stagnant stench of isolation and loneliness. I soon began to think I couldn’t do this. The sorrow and hurt I felt was enough to make a grown man cry. I had to pull it together, and overcome this avalanche of mixed emotions.

            The sun was beginning to set, and I knew I had to get a fire started soon. As I was gathering the firewood off the floor, it dawned on me that I was not the only one in the room. I heard the scampering footsteps in the soot covered fireplace. Instantly, I thought it was a rabies-infested monster out to get me. I reached for the small iron shovel beside me. As I leaned over to look up into the drafty chimney, a huge fur ball came flying down so fast that it knocked me on my rear end. My heart was pounding so hard, I thought it was going to break through my ribs and fall flat on the floor. As I hurried to get to my feet, I saw the intruder. A full-grown raccoon came out from behind the antique chair that sat next to the fireplace. At this point, I was still shaking in my boots from all the excitement. All of a sudden, I felt the warmth of the adrenaline, coursing through my veins. The visiting friend looked at me like I was out of my mind for waking him up. He slowly walked away nonchalantly to the opened door and disappeared behind the cabin.

            An hour had passed; the fire seemed to liven up the room with shadows dancing on the walls. Finally, I could remove my thick down coat. As I tossed it onto the chair, it knocked over a couple of pictures sitting on the side table. Flipping them over I had realized how long it had been since the last time I was there. My Daddy looked well, and I was just a zit-faced teenager. The softness in his eyes was like a warm cashmere sweater that made me feel all cozy and covered in warmth. He was so full of life when he came to this cabin. This was the place he could rejuvenate his soul. It could calm even the fiercest wolverine.  A flood of tears poured out of my eyes as I remembered all the love he gave me when he was alive and breathing.  Just then, it felt like his brawny arm was around me, comforting me with a strong sense of compassion. He was there with me, not in body, but in spirit. With a heavy burden lifted off my aching heart, I finally felt at ease.

            I gathered the rest of his belongings in my arms, and laid them easily in the cardboard box. The fire had dwindled down to nothing, and it started to get cold again. As I walked to the door, I looked back at the empty room, and smiled. I was not going to be returning to that place physically but I could come back through all the great memories that I knew would never leave me. I said one last goodbye, turned, and shut the door.