All posts by Brittany Lyons

A follower of Christ, occasional blogger, teacher and world traveler who makes sense of the world through many many words.
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En route to Korea: Day zero

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Well it happened. It finally happened. After four years in Virginia (See blog post from June 2016), The Lord released me back into the air, and here I am, sitting on my Queen-ish size bed overlooking a sun closet, overlooking my new campus in Jeju, South Korea, where I am quarantined for the next 13 days.

Peculiar design. Or genius?

I arrived at Seoul International Airport around 6:00 pm and had to get to Gimpo Airport in time for my 9:00 pm flight to Jeju. Flights are rare and expensive from Seoul to Jeju, so it takes a road trip to get to the other airport. It is a 40 minute ride. The process was just what you would expect as an international arrival during a pandemic. Lines. Paperwork. Lines. Paperwork. Masks. Sweat. No social distancing. None. Did I mention the paperwork? I filled out so many forms that I almost memorized my Korean address. Almost. 

I showed person after person my documents, one of which was on my phone because I forgot to print it, to help them understand that I really am permitted to self-quarantine in the residence I really do have on Korean soil. You see, short term visitors are required to complete their 14 day quarantine in a government facility. Most blonds don’t have a residence in Korea and aren’t long-term residents. They seemed to get it when I showed them my visa for special professionals with a stay of two years… the second or third time I showed it to them. They were confused though because I couldn’t present a residency card. Residency cards are issued after 30 days of residency.

It started at Dulles International Airport, where I had to promise the check-in staff that I really was supposed to self-quarantine and that I really did have a residence there. They made me sign a notice that I would be required to quarantine at a government facility anyway at my own cost ($100.00 per day) for 14 days but assured me that it would be ripped up once I got to Korea and presented my documents there. It was the first of many Korean documents I signed along the way that I couldn’t read.

Once I checked my luggage and it started moving up the conveyor belt, I noticed what looked like my mom’s black e-cigarette stuck to one of my bags (There were lots of straps and tape on that bag). The lady checked it and said it was part of the bag. I had just borrowed the bag from my nephew. I seem to remember this wilderness backpack having a drinking device, so I figured that was the straw end. Problem solved. On it went.

I had my first experience with TSA precheck. I didn’t even see a non TSA line. Or a line. I guess not many people are flying these days. I wonder why. 

Photo by Anna Shvets from Pexels

I kept my shoes on. I didn’t remove my electronics or liquids, and the TSA staff made small talk with me along the way rather than grilling me about why I was traveling abroad — as is customary. They simply asked if I worked for the state department. Next time, I’ll give them a better answer other than “No, I’m an international teacher.” I’ll wink at them and say, “I just can’t tell you… it’s safer that way.” Why don’t I think of these things sooner?

Now to find my gate. It helped that the entire airline staff for my plane was in front of me the whole time.

My Korean Air crew. Probably. I dipped into the store before they got to the gate.

I stopped at the Hudson shop to purchase a few bottles of water for the journey ahead… then I saw the candy and the lady said it was buy two get one free. Who needs three 26 ounce bags of candy? No, thank you. Then I remembered my fate. 14.5 hour flight. Followed by 14 days in self isolation. Naturally, I got four bags of candy and two large bottles of water. Gummy Bears and every kind of M&M.

While boarding, I noticed how wonderfully spread out everyone was. There was one person for every three seats, so EVERYONE got to lay out at will and sleep during the flight unless they were unfortunate enough to book a block of seats for a family. If you’ve ever flown international economy class, you know this is the dream situation! I never used to get swollen ankles when I flew, that is except for the few times I sat in my seat without getting up for the entire 15 or so hour flight to China (I was young and stupid!). Now, I can’t drive more than an hour without getting swollen ankles. 35 is very different 26, which is the difference between my first flight to China and my first flight to Korea. My ankles did swell a bit, but I was able to stretch out so much that I don’t remember my ankles being swollen when I got off the plane. I had a severe pain in my outer thigh though and worried about a blood clot the whole time since I have done a lot of driving lately, but when I looked in the mirror later, I saw a giant bruise. What a relief. Just another visible sign of my clumsiness. Or my Vitamin D deficiency. Or my Fibromyalgia. (Yes, I get some visible bruising. No, it’s not textbook. Yes, it’s been checked. Yes, they ARE clueless.)

Flight #1 ready
Super cozy paper thin slippers made the flight much more comfortable. No joke. It’s easier than putting my shoes back on every time I get up.
My first Korean meal. Not bad for airplane food. I’m in love with the spicy red paste.
It seems we veered a little to the right to avoid flying over North Korea. Probably wise. We flew over Russia and China though. I guess it seemed like a good idea to someone. I don’t remember this flight path on any of my other trips to Asia.

Onward. 

Reread paragraph 2 for the lines. The sweat. The paperwork. The masks. The lack of social distancing. The lines. I never did see anyone rip up the original paperwork, but I did get self-quarantine letters (yes, plural) with an official looking red stamp on them.

Once I got through passport control, baggage claim, and customs, I exited the restricted part of the airport and entered the lobby where I stood dumbfounded, waiting for someone with a badge to shuffle me off somewhere. There is a sense of security for me in being obviously foreign. I showed them my paperwork. Again they were confused by my not having a residency card, but after I showed them my residency certification letter and stamped self-quarantine documents from the previous five lines, they directed me to a waiting area for a government van to drive me to Gimpo Airport. Along the way, a man asked me where my lanyard was. I remember reading a blog about international arrivals in Korea being given color-coded lanyards to quickly identify those who were to be led to a government facility. I told him I was a resident and going to Jeju via Gimpo Airport. He hesitantly backed off. I’d worked very hard to sound confident. 

I entered the semi-quarantined area and waited for the government quarantine van to take me to the next airport. The police officer let me out of quarantine to change money on the other side of the lobby. My luggage stayed, and this did not make me nervous or uncomfortable in any way. I ended up riding with another teacher from my school who had just returned from her summer in the states. We finally pulled out of the airport at 7:53 PM. My next flight was scheduled for 9:00 PM. I wasn’t sure if I would make it, and I since I didn’t have time to get a Korean SIM card because of my close connection, I used the WIFI signal as long as I could to keep my HR person informed. She said it would be a very difficult situation if I missed my flight and asked me if I had a lot of luggage to check. I couldn’t reply though because I lost my WIFI signal after the van pulled off. About ten minutes later, the driver pulled into another terminal and talked to us for about 10 minutes in Korean. A nice older Korean woman told us he wanted us to stop talking so we wouldn’t spread the virus. The rest of the 40 minute trip was mostly silent. 

From Seoul International Airport to Gimpo International Airport. See the windmills? I wonder too.

When we got to the airport at 8:30 PM, it was the easiest check in EVER. Almost. I had to recheck my luggage and let them know I already paid for my extra bag at Dulles. I stood there for several minutes and was then asked to go through a set of restricted doors. That’s an odd way to the gate, I thought. I walked into a bleak room with a long conveyor belt and they asked to inspect my luggage. Nope. This was not the way to the gate. They asked if I had an e-cigarette. “No… I don’t smoke.” The lady pointed to the very item that I thought was an e-cigarette nearly 20 hours prior at Dulles. And so it was. My mom’s e-cigarette really had been stuck to my bag and made it through an international flight and two airports before being found. I was worried because there is quite a list of restricted items in Korea. Could I go to prison for this, I wondered. Yes, I actually wondered. She quickly answered my unspoken question by handing it to me and telling me I needed to carry it. “Oh. I don’t want it. Wait, I can just carry it? Okay. Thank you.” And off I went to the real gate. Explains why TSA searched my luggage in DC… but apparently couldn’t find the culprit!

Security was easy. I arrived at my gate in the middle of boarding and was moved to the back of the plane with all of the other international arrivals. (It’s safer if those of us infected with Corona walk through crowds of people and sit together in the back of the plane.) It worked out though because I met two other new international teachers and we quickly became friends.

This time through the airport, I had companions. We were the last to leave the plane and we were all shuffled to another station where we filled out more paperwork with the exact same information as the other paperwork we had filled out along the way. Then we got our luggage and carted it ten minutes across the airport, across the street, and into a parking lot where the Corona test site was set up under tents. Station one was paperwork. Again. Station two. The test. A person in full PPE gear was behind a glass wall with two arm openings. Long plastic gloves were placed through the holes for the person doing the testing and another staff member in full PPE was standing there to hold each person still during the test. Is that really necessary, I wondered. When it was my turn, I was told to open my mouth wide and go “Ahhhh.” But I didn’t know that because my eyes were closed and I don’t speak Korean. I figured it out and did it. No problem. They swabbed my throat. Unpleasant but quick. Then the nose. A device. A swab. A something was inserted into my nose (Again, I don’t know what because my eyes were closed.) and I immediately understood why someone was there to hold my head in place. Such a thing is not natural, and gravity or self-preservation pulled my head back to get away. The staff member was there to keep that from happening. It caused a sting and when it was over, it still felt like something was crawling around up in my nose and nasal cavity for several minutes. But it didn’t hurt and I didn’t get a headache. Off to the air conditioned bus that took all of to our new on campus housing.

We had to sit at least three seats back so we didn’t infect the driver.

The two other new teachers, Rhonda (and her son, Christian) and Jennifer, are quarantining in my building together with me, apart. If Jennifer and I both stick our heads out of our windows at the same time, we can talk. I’m thinking of developing a pulley system to send her notes. Just because. Rhonda lives on another floor and her windows face the opposite direction. I’m thinking a paper airplane would be more effective.

When I entered my apartment, I noticed it was the tiniest little space! Very much like a glorified college dorm room. The couch looks like a hospital bench, and I have sunroom which I now affectionately call the suncloset.

It felt very claustrophobic to me at first, but it’s growing on me. Just wait for the after pictures (AFTER quarantine when I can go shopping!)
All in one. Works for me since I always get the entire bathroom wet whether it’s designed for it or not!
My view: The student dorm (Awkward? Kids aren’t here yet so not sure) and the track

It was around 11:00 PM when I arrived and around 4:00 AM when I finally got to sleep. Before the residency staff left, they showed me how to punch in the code to get into my apartment and asked me not to wear shoes in the house. I don’t remember how to enter my apartment. I guess I’ll figure it out in two weeks when I’m allowed to leave for the first time. I’m reminded of my first attempt to return to my apartment in China nine years ago the day after I arrived. I went from building to building waving my key card at the entrance until one of the doors opened. Then I called the school to ask what floor I lived on. The good life. 🙂

And that’s day zero (Day zero crosses several time zones and possibly involves time travel).

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A Modified “Add to” Poem Because I Have Swirls in My Mind and I Can’t Turn Them Into Long-winded Words (Yes, I guess that’s the title and a bit ironic).

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A Modified “Add to” Poem of Psalm 91 (NIV) Because I Have Swirls in My Mind and I Can’t Turn Them Into Long-winded Words (Yes, I guess that’s the title and a bit ironic).

By: Brittany Lyons 

March 23, 2020

Today, I feel small.
The economy is crumbling.
But God!?

I feel small.
School is cancelled for the remainder of the year. I really miss my kids. I may NEVER see them again.
But God!?

I feel small.
I quit my secure job for an exciting and possibly less secure one on the other side of the planet.
Surprise! I haven’t told my grandma yet! [Details will be forthcoming when I’m ready to share.]
And the US is on a level 4 travel advisory to everywhere.
Do not travel.
Period.
BUT GOD!?

I feel small.
Coffee shops are closed. My place of refuge and peace.
But God!?

I feel small.
BUT GOD

“He who dwells in the shelter of the most high will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust.”
A disease rages from continent to continent. Threatening to overtake.

I feel small.
BUT GOD

“Surely He will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.”
And I feel small.
BUT GOD

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”

And I feel small and–

“You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.”

And I feel small and helped and–

“A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked. If you make the Most High your dwelling– even the LORD, who is my refuge–then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.”

And I feel small and helped and seen and–

“For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.”

And I feel small and helped and seen and remembered and–

“You will tread upon the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.”

And I feel small and helped and seen and remembered and LOVED.

“Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.”

And I feel small and helped and seen and remembered and LOVED and hope.

Because GOD.
I’m glad I’m small.

 

Daily Faith, independence day, Uncategorized

A Declaration of Independence: Be Free

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I have been studying the beginning of my faith these past few days, not the beginning of my personal walk, but the beginning of God’s recorded faithfulness: Genesis and Exodus. It’s quite timely that this morning, on our great nation’s Independence Day, I walked, so to speak, with the Israelites through their own independence from bondage in Egypt and into their first years as a baby nation. I got to see the formation process of their first set of laws, their first official leaders, and their first ruler: God Himself. 

I wanted to breathe in the knowledge of truth and just sit and soak in the verses surrounding the Exodus from Egypt and learn more about these roots from the Spirit of God. In some ways, it parallels the exodus of many of the people groups in the Americas from their motherland for the purpose of religious independence. Though the details are far from identical, the craving for autonomy and freedom transcends time and culture.

So what stands out to me most from my reading of the foundation of the nation of Israel? Well first, they were an oppressed people and they cried out to God. Additionally, their women were faithful even when their lives were in grave danger. The midwives were instructed by Pharaoh to kill all the boys upon birth, but the women “feared God,” didn’t follow this order, and were blessed with their own families as a result. When the rulers of the day wanted to annihilate Israel, their faithfulness led to their expansion (Exodus 1:20-21).

Something else that stands out to me occurs while Moses was on the run: God saw Israel, and He was “concerned” about them (Exodus 2:25). Now this word, “concern” seems to be a bit downplayed in this translation. Not to get too theological, but… well just bear with me as I get a bit theological!  The Hebrew word here for “concern” is Yada, which means to know, to be known, to deeply respected (Strong). It is the same word used to describe a sexual union between a man and a woman in the covenant of marriage (side note: the word for sexual relations when not referring to a man and a woman in a marital covenant is usually a totally different word with entirely different implications… totally worth looking into–something, by the way, I learned at Dannah and Bob Gresh’s Sexual Theology and Healing Training Master Class last week and highly recommend attending in the future! Visit purefreedom.org to find out more!). It is the same word used to describe the relationship between God and His people throughout the whole Bible. It is the highest form of relationship. In their agony, they were seen. They were known. They were understood. And they were rescued!

Finally, I am keen to mention the relentlessness of God’s heart. After rescuing Israel, God is relentlessly concerned with their well being. Something I didn’t realize before was that He reminded them of what He had done for them and offered to make them His “own treasure (Exodus 19:5).” They agreed to it! God did not force Himself on Israel! They cried out to Him. He heard them. He delivered them. Then, He OFFERED Himself as their King. They responded. “Everything that Adonai has spoken, we will do (Exodus 19:8).” And friend, He will not force Himself on you. (And neither should we try to force Him onto others.) But He will relentlessly pursue you when you’ve EARNESTLY said yes to His invitation.

He repeatedly instructs Moses to remind the people not to touch the mountain where He was located because it would kill them. Over and over again, he reminds Moses to remind the people. He had ongoing compassion and care for them. 

Then, He gave them a series of ordinances that were quite liberating! Remember that they had been in bondage, with no will of their own for hundreds of years. This was their constitution. It freed them to live in a society that was not lawless and oppressive towards even the least of them. 

And in this constitution, He gave them a day of rest! After hundreds of years of slavery, do you think they struggled to take a day off? I imagine they were quite addicted to productivity. I know how I get when all I do is work, work, work! It can be hard to force myself to turn my brain off and rest. And this new ruler required rest for everyone! Even the slaves and cattle! He even justifies the sabbath rest in Exodus 23:12, “You are to do your work for six days, but on the seventh day you will rest, so that your ox and your donkey may have rest, and also the son of your handmaid and the outsider may be refreshed.” Everybody wants Saturday off, and God started that! He made Saturday a required day off. (So why do we go to church on Sunday? Oh dear… that’s another, for some reason, controversial topic for another day, but please do look into it!)

He freed them from bondage, slavery, oppression, and violence and gave them a united identity, a set of laws to keep order and to protect all life and innocence. He ascribed value to the individual, including women and children! He took them from a nation with a bounty on their male infants and made it an offense punishable by death for anyone who hurt a pregnant woman, ending either of their lives (or causing severe harm) (Exodus 21:22). 

God declared their independence from the ways of an oppressive world, and in return they pledged allegiance to Him alone. 

Now that is a God to whom I want to pledge my allegiance! And I get to! We non-Israelites were invited into the family of God and declared spiritually and eternally independent from wickedness under the blood of Jesus. Through the blood of Jesus, like the Israelites through the blood of the passover lamb, we too have been emancipated. 

So today I ask you to look deeply into your relationship with God (and I invite you to ask Jesus to come into your heart and lead you in all your ways if you do not yet have this relationship) and ask yourself–Have I yet been declared independent? And if so, am I living in the freedom for which I was set free (Galatians 5:1)? 

Be free. Set others free.

Happy Independence Day! We have much to celebrate.

References:

The Bible. Tree of Life Version, Baker Books, 2015.

Strong, James. Strong’s Expanded Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2009.

Daily Faith, Uncategorized

Intimacy and Eternity

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I wrote this some time ago as an introduction to a book that has not yet been fully birthed. I don’t know when it will be, but it is time to stop storing up the words the Lord has laid on my heart in the depths of a computer file.

*

Many years ago I spent almost the entire summer seeped in the Word of God. It was the first time I had ever yearned for knowledge of God in such unquenchable amounts. I woke up in the morning, sat at the kitchen table with the sunlight pouring in over my books, and read the Bible. I started in Genesis and used the New International Version.

Prior to that summer, I had never read much beyond the creation and only parts of the new testament. But something happened while I finally sought to know the God who I had adamantly chosen to believe in and follow—I became genuinely interested in every word that dripped from His mouth (His Word, His Book). I had heard the Bible stories and read them in parts over the years, but I had never absorbed the narrative as a whole. I had never followed the lineage of Adam, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and the rest. I had a very cursory knowledge of His-story.

That summer, I ate up the text, falling more and more in love with the author of creation daily. I would sit there, many days, until sun set. I realized that this Book upon which I based my life was… get this… interesting! Raunchy! Raw! And dare I say… feminist literature like no other! (Please put aside all modern associations of the word “feminist” and think only of the word as I use it here in terms of equally valuing women and holding them in high esteem, not degrading them or calling them lesser than men.)

What I experienced that summer was deep, intense intimacy with The Lord. It was the first time I had such intimacy despite being a Christian for nearly the twenty years prior.

And it led to years of spiritual disappointment. Yes, I said disappointment. Over the next several months, I didn’t have the kind of time I’d had over the summer to spend time in the Bible and in prayer. I tried to spend time in the mornings and evenings with Him, but I was just so busy—being a high school English teacher—and I was tired. I was also busy with ministry and emotional recovery from various issues.

I remember my pastor telling me that the time I had in the Word that summer was a gift and that it couldn’t always be like that, but I was miserable without it. After so many years knowing that my relationship with God was not what it should be, I had finally captured it. I had experienced extended intimacy with the Lord, and I thought that it was supposed to be like that all the time. It should be like that all the time. Nothing less could satisfy my soul.

*

Over the years, I began to understand that God gives us times of refreshment, times in deep waters to fill us and prepare us for drier times. He prepares us. The two years following that intense summer, and even the year prior to that summer, was filled with trials and attack on so many levels. In retrospect, I don’t know what I would have done without that time to let my roots run deep.

What I experienced was a glimpse of the Creator, an eclipse, a moment or rather, a series of moments of intense in depth eternity. I chased that experience for years until I realized that I could never actually recapture it. But what I discovered was that the more I paid attention, the more I could experience other glimpses and in fact if I could be seeped/soaking in His essence every moment, I wouldn’t miss it. I wouldn’t yearn for it, I wouldn’t groan for it.

*

You see, the earth is broken. The garden of Eden was closed down… for now. While eternal intimacy with the Almighty is within reach for all those who believe in the Son, Jesus Christ, until we are in Heaven, we will never fully dwell in His presence. That is the ultimate brokenness in which we live. Darkness, sin, disease, despair, isolation, loneliness—all of these are temporary gaps in which we temporarily dwell, and in which we develop a hunger and thirst for eternity. Through the pits, we glimpse the glory and goodness. And if we are careful, if we watch closely, if we pay attention, we will see glimpses of His presence all around of us. The rocks will cry out. The earth is filled with his glory.

*

Please share your thoughts with me on this topic or similar experiences you have had!

Follow me on IG or FB: @gracefulpersistence

Daily Faith, Repatriating, Singleness, Uncategorized

The Hole in our Hearts

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My Youtube Video Link: The Hole in Our Hearts 65460943_611211712704970_5449716742982991872_n

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Chapters 5 and 6

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Chapters 5 and 6 have been omitted. Please move on to chapter 7. 🙂

comedy, fiction, humor, romance, short story, Singleness, snow, Uncategorized

Chapter 7

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Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3    Chapter 4

*
A Note from the Author

Before I begin chapter 7, let me share that I realize my fragmented experiment with narration in chapters 5 and 6 didn’t quite work for many of you. I was going for almost a “How I Met Your Mother” narration style. And since those chapters didn’t really alter the plot, let’s just pretend they were a sort of dream sequence, like the Halloween episodes of “The Simpsons.” Or that they didn’t happen at all. 

Chapter 7 will be a direct continuation from chapter 4. Thank you for bearing with me as I sometimes succeed and sometimes blunder in my very experimental adventure through novel writing.

*

Chapter 7

With a silly grin, he made his way back up the hill and plopped down next to me in the snow. “I’m Chad,” he said extending his olive toned hand. “Perhaps an introduction is warranted given how intimately we have recently become acquainted.”

“Well, I do need a name to use when I tell all my girlfriends about that little ditch predicament you, sir, just found yourself in.”

“As do I. As do I.”

“To tell all your girlfriends about my little ditch predicament?” Flirtation activated.

His grin widened. “Indeed, but of course,” he corrected, “to tell all my boyfriends about your ditch predicament.”  Flirtation aborted.

Horror crossed his face. “That’s not what I meant. Girlfriends. Girlfriends. That’s what I meant.” I stared at him, soaking up every moment of his adorable descent into awkward embarrassment. To help the situation, I remained quiet, studying him intently, one eyebrow raised.

“Not that I have a ton of girlfriends.”

“Of course not,” I grinned. Awkward flirtation back in session.

“That would be bad.”

“Very very bad,” I replied, feigning seriousness. I wondered how uncomfortable I could let him get before it crossed from flirtatious banter into flirtatious cruelty. A little further. I waited for more explanation.

“Yea, just a few—actually one—just one.”

I sighed. Oh well. Flirtation aborted. Again. I guessed this wouldn’t be my Hallmark romance ending after all.

He must have noticed the disappointment cross my face and it made him realize his latest verbal blunder.

“I mean none. No girlfriend.” He was shaking his head back and forth.

He’d made a pointed effort to emphasize that he was both single and straight. And of course awkwardly adorable.

Flirtation reactivated.

I decided to end his torture and smiled wide.

“Relax! I understand. Straight and single.”  Nope. I just had to keep it little uncomfortable. It’s what I do. With that, Chad finally laughed.

With a sense of humor.

My mental man list was well on its way.

And chivalrous for picking me up out of the snow.

And strong. Check, check, and check. Boy crazed Carolyn may have grown up but she could never stop being boy crazy. Or rather, man crazy as her age would have it.

“I’m Carolyn,” and we shook hands, left hands, to preserve what feeling I still had of my crushed fingers.

“So, what brings you here, Carolyn?”

“Honestly? It was the only plowed exit I could find, and I really had to pee.”

“And have you had any success in that department?”

“Nope.”

“I have something that might help.” If we weren’t talking about using the bathroom, this would have sounded like a shady conversation.

“A bathroom?” I asked enthusiastically.

He grimaced. “Even better.” I was intrigued.

“Even better than a bathroom… I’m hooked.”

“Visualization. Close your eyes.”

A few butterflies buzzed in my stomach, subduing the urgency to use the bathroom; I closed my eyes.

“Now imagine you are sitting in a green field full of flowers. You hear the birds chirping. The breeze blowing… and the subtle sound of a waterfall—” I punched him as hard as I could in the arm and instantly recoiled from the pain.

I’d accidentally used my crushed hand.

His laughter was ruthless but was was offset when he immediately reached for my injured hand. I tentatively let him take it and he examined it gently.

“Doesn’t feel broken. Maybe deeply bruised.” Maybe he was a doctor after all.

“Are you a doctor?”

“Would you be impressed if I said, yes.”

“Not really.” I smirked. I totally would.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not.”

“Good thing. So what do you do Mister—”

“Cook”

“What do you do Mister Cook?”

His smile widened. “I’m a fighter, actually,” clearly impressed with himself.

Liar. Not that kind of strong. I shook my head.

“What, you don’t believe me?”

A laugh escaped, but I stopped myself. “I absolutely, positively… do not believe you.”

He laughed again.

“I’m actually a Firefighter and Paramedic.”

“That explains how you could carry me up the hill so easily. That was impressive.”

He shrugged.

“But it doesn’t explain the tumbling down the hill…”

“Ice,” he accused.

“Right.”

“So how about you, Miss—” he waited for a response.

“How do you know I’m a Miss?” I teased.

“Well if you were a Mrs., I doubt you would be driving alone, in the snow, in the middle of the night alone.”

“A bit presumptuous are we?”

He shrugged unapologetically.

“How do you figure?”
 “Well, my Mrs. would not be driving alone at night in the snow.”

“How very traditional.”

He looked a bit offended, but not too offended, at my accusation. “And is that wrong?”

Not at all, I thought. Not one bit. But the strong independent woman in me had to at least put up a little fight.

I looked intently into his eyes trying to read as much as I could from them. He looked back into mine, refusing to break eye contact. Tension steadily rose, and I could feel the heat in the pit of my stomach. He had sharp features. Symmetrical. Severe dark chocolate eyes and short, well-groomed hair to match. There was definite chemistry in the works. In fact, I couldn’t help but think what a perfectly romantic moment this would be for a kiss, but that would be a bit premature even for boy crazy Carolyn. A bit, nontraditional. I gave him a tight smile. Just a little rope for the poor guy.  I’d almost forgotten his question when I became suddenly aware that he was still holding my hand. Or maybe he was holding it again. I wasn’t sure. The warmth radiated between us.

I allowed my facial expression to soften further.

“Traditional is okay.” I smiled and nodded. I quite liked traditional actually.

“Really?” He said, pleasantly surprised.

“To an extent.”  I was strong and independent, sure, but it didn’t change the fact that I wanted a strong guy. Even a protective one.

“Well I’m a traditional guy… to an extent.” He was trying to impress me. It was kinda cute.

Our gaze still intent, I gave another tight smile and he did the same.

He looked forward, breaking the tension.

“So Miss Carolyn, what do you do?”

“I’m a teacher.”

“Ah a caretaker… how very traditional.” Now he was teasing me.

“Ha. Yes, suppose it is traditional, but I’m more like a zookeeper…. or ringmaster… or a cat wrangler.” Really, I could go on forever with the metaphors.

“What grade?”

“5th”

“That must be fun.”

“Circuses are fun.”

We locked eyes again. The smell of his cologne permeating my senses. I’d never been so attracted to a smell before. I inched in closer, again drinking in his scent, very aware that I had a problem. A I-cannot-resist-the-smell-of-a-well-groomed-clean-shaven-masculine-cologned man problem.

I knew it was too soon, but I wanted him to kiss me.

Our gaze deepened.

My feelings were conflicted.

Kiss me.

No, it’s too soon.

Look away, I thought.

Break the tension.

Say something.

I think he’s actually gonna kiss me.

“Chad?” I couldn’t contain myself any longer.

“Yes?”

“I really have to pee.”

That broke the tension.

 

fiction, romance, short story, Singleness, snow, Uncategorized

Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

I know what you are probably thinking.

This dude is going to carry her into his festively lit living room, the pop of the fireplace crackling about, the smell of pine incensing her nostrils. He will set her down gently on the living room couch and help her stretch out her injured leg across the table, which he will first, with one swift brush of his arm, sweep all things to the ground to clear the way. He will tell her to relax and be still and that he will take care of her wounds. He will then disappear into the kitchen to gather gauze and other such first aid supplies.

While sitting alone in the candle lit living room, she will look around and notice pictures of him in a white lab coat, with a stethoscope around his neck, in a remote Southeast Asian village, surrounded by smiling, clearly impoverished children, one of which will be sitting on his shoulders and pulling on his ears while laughing hysterically. He will, of course, be wearing a smile as wide as his heart, revealing his brilliantly white and unnaturally straight teeth.

A superstar of Doctors Without Borders. An adventurer who just happens to be living in this town to help his ailing grandma and sickly cousin but maintains close ties to his international connections and is ready with an overnight bag and passport at a moment’s notice.

Then, in crashes the missing puzzle piece to his extravagantly humble life, the damsel in distress school teacher with a latent travel bug and freshly renewed passport, ready to be whisked off her injured feet and superimposed into her very own international edition of a Hallmark romance.

The End

***

But that’s not what happened.

As I was “drinking in the scent” of his perfectly cologned neck, en route up the hill, impressed by his strength, grace, and chivalry, the brute dropped me flat on my wider-than-I-would-care-to-admit-but-still-not-cushioned-enough-to-dull-the-pain-derriere and then proceeded to, himself, tumble down the hill into the very ditch from which he had just pulled me.

Fantasy abated.

The weight of my own body against my tailbone sent shudders down my legs, stopping along the way to mingle with the pain already settled in them before releasing itself into the atmosphere and allowing me once again to form cogent thoughts.

The first of which was concern for the durability of this guy’s neck, but my concern was pacified when, as soon as he landed, his arms sprouted into the air and gave me two enthusiastic thumbs up. Still laying on the ground with arms in the air, he exclaimed to me with spirited reassurance, “I’m fine! I’m good! Everything is good here.”

His house had better smell of pine, I thought.

*

Chapters 5 and 6 have been omitted. Please move on to chapter 7.

If you have become a consistent reader, please drop me a comment!

fiction, romance, short story, Singleness, Uncategorized

Chapter 3

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Don’t forget to read chapters 1-2 first!

Chapter 3

The crushing weight of nothing lighter than a large grizzly bear on a sled pinned me to the ground without warning. And before I realized I’d even been knocked over, the grizzly bear rolled off and was whimpering like a sick cub beside me. Simultaneous sensations spread throughout my body, one of being sucker punched and the other, of being massaged down my left leg by a large cactus. The pins and needles peppered across my flesh like quickly blinking Christmas lights. Out of place ones. Like those random single color red ones that lined just half the length of our neighbor’s house when I was a child. I stammered on, once again attempting to hold back another round of curse words, which I will, as usual not color the page with.

A monstrous woman’s voice hailed from the hill beside me, a hill I did not even notice until after I was mauled by that grizzly bear going midnight sledding.

“Jake! I told you to be careful!” A red coat emerged from the snow next to me. The grizzly bear was none other than a child not exceeding three feet tall and clearly going by the name of Jake.

“Get in the house, now!”

A gentler voice, that of a man approaching, followed.

“Hey little man, you okay?” The man shuffled quickly over from a neighboring yard, lifting the wild little grizzly cub and standing him on his two feet. The child wiggled free from his grasp, said nothing, grabbed his much-too-large tobogan, and ran up the hill to his berating mother.

“You know that tobogan—” his voice trailed off in resignation. And to himself, he uttered, “is mine.” The man shrugged, clearly used to his next door Dennis the Mennis.

I sat up the best I could under the snow and began the futile business of dusting the slush off my legs from the underside of my lower pant legs. I shuddered when my hand made contact with my left shin. It was hard to see, but I was almost certain it was bleeding. A warm liquid sensation, contrasting greatly with the cold wetness from the snow, spilled out from the wound. The pain was almost agonizing. Almost—simply because the adrenaline of my overall situation, that of being lost in a snowstorm, in the middle of the night, in a strange town, alone, kept me from dwelling too much on the impact of the crash.

At the sound of my grunt, the man suddenly noticed my peculiar presence in the middle of the midnight snow.

“Oh goodness.You okay!?” The man, about thirty years old, if I could guess right through the concealment of the dark, begged, concern in his voice. He rushed at me with an outstretched hand, a hand that I readily accepted, careful to respond with my left, less injured hand. Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but notice how small my hand felt in his and how gentle, yet firm his grip was. Per usual, without much forethought, I casually glanced at his left hand to look for a ring. Of course it was pointless, given he was wearing gloves. Like a sane person would. Unlike myself.  

“Do you live nearby?” he questioned. I shook my head, delivering a quiet laugh at the whole of my circumstances and the the difficulty I would have at explaining my situation and the series of unfortunate events that landed me here in this very moment. After a moment of awkward laughter on my part, and no doubt awkward incomprehension on his, I replied.

“You know those moments we often console ourselves in the middle of by telling ourselves, ‘When we look back at this in ten years, we’re gonna laugh?’

He gave a nodding grin. “Sure.”

“Well, that’s my night,” I said confidently with an awkward laugh. And with that laugh, I bared into my left leg, attempting to walk, and instantly, it gave way to gravity pulling me straight towards the ground. I shrieked at the pain.

Unbelievable.

In complete astonishment, I found myself suddenly caught and quite literally whisked into the air and into the arms of this unexpected man. My shriek was followed by a yelp at the surprise, and though the pressure of him holding me as if carrying me across a wedding threshold multiplied my leg pain, sudden warmth at being held as if being carried across a wedding threshold filled my stomach and made the pain inconsequential.

Yet, my independent and cautious nature led me to struggle against the assistance.

“It’s okay,” I assured him as I pulled away, trying to get down. His strength was impressive as I’m not what you may consider a small boned lady. I definitely had enough meat on my bones to feel awkward at being carried, but the ease at which he seemed to carry me gave me some unexpected comfort.

“You can’t walk.” He stated very matter of factly, as if his words settled the matter. “Where do you belong?”

I laughed at the question, again thinking of my present circumstance, but understanding his meaning, simply responded, “My car broke down and I got snowed out of it. I live two hours away.”

He turned to me with a look that could only be described by “Seriously?” or perhaps, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” It wasn’t an angry look though. He uttered a quiet, audible laugh and turned his tracks towards the house at the top of the hill.

The situation I was in wasn’t lost on me. I very well knew that I was in the arms of a strange man and about to enter his house with little ability to escape should I need to. I had no knowledge of what was held inside, whether it be a lair where he kept women chained up in the basement or a cozy cabin with a cheerful wife and three adoring children. Or perhaps, he was just a bachelor waiting for the woman of his dreams to show up injured and in need of a knight and shining armor at the edge of his driveway in the middle of a romantic snowy December night. I was hoping for the latter but would have happily settled for the former.

But still, he could be serial killer.

Unable to do anything but hope and being thoroughly impressed by the ease at which he carried me up the hill, I relaxed momentarily and drank in his fragrance. He smelled of fire but not like a fireplace or like a burning building. Like a cologne with a burning sweetness. I found myself pressing my face into his neck, not so forcefully as to be noticeable by him, but enough to block the wind a bit and to feel the heat of his 5:00 shadow.

Ch. 3 to be continued ____________________________________

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fiction, romance, short story, snow, Uncategorized

Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

As soon as I realized what I’d done, I pulled at the door handle, jiggling it feverishly. I succeeded at getting it open nearly an inch when my left fingers slipped. Instinctively, my right hand reached to catch it, and in that same moment, traction gave way beneath me, pulling me into the door and slamming it shut on three of my right fingers. Or maybe it was four. The ache was moving more slowly than it normally would due to the wintry temperatures.

I couldn’t tell if the snap I heard was was from my fingers or was the sound of the door handle slinging shut. I let out a short, curdling scream, perhaps a few curse words that I won’t admit to, and proceeded to inhale slowly and deeply, consciously imagining the pain releasing out of my fingertips. Visualization. I’d heard of it. I wasn’t entirely sure this is what it was though.

Within seconds, the pain had moved deep into my fingertips and settled into a slowly pulsating throb.

Visualization was for the birds.

*

Even if I could’ve wedged the door open more than a few inches than before, my pulsating fingers couldn’t handle the pressure now. At least the coldness will soon numb the pain.

As the reality of the situation sank in–as well as the pain, I was beside myself. I had no idea where I was beyond being in Mechanicsville. And other than passing the sign for the town hundreds of times on the way to and from my grandparents home over the years, I’d never actually stopped there to find out what sort of place it was. Was I in the middle of an empty town? A small city? Was there a Main Street? Was this it? Was there a gas station within walking distance? How many miles had I already been driving in this neighborhood, and how many more would it be before an exit could be found?

And of course the biggest question. What was I going to do now?

I knew what was behind me. Miles of unplowed roads, houses, and a virtually empty main drag. I didn’t know what was before me, so I walked on. Trudging through the ever deepening snow, I looked around for the couples I had seen just fifteen minutes prior. Or maybe it was much longer than fifteen minutes. I really wasn’t sure. Not one one in sight.

I thought about my students as I moved. I pondered my lack of available sick days due to family illnesses and at last, sighed over the supposition that I couldn’t really control this situation exactly. Though I wasn’t quite convinced of this fact. I also wasn’t quite convinced I wouldn’t make it back in time for morning classes. Worry over how I would contact the school to get a sub filled me: While trapped. On foot. In a snowstorm. In a strange city. Alone. In the middle of the night.

Anxiety crept over me. Anxiety over my messy desk and the sudden presence of an unexpected stranger judging me. Touching my desk. Organizing my stacks. I shuddered at the thought. Seeing my soon to be three day old half cup of coffee left over from Friday morning still sitting on my desk. Would serve them right if they touched my stacks, I thought, grimacing at the thought.

Suddenly aware of the frosty wetness seeping into my shoes, leaving my toes with a bitter cold burning sensation, made me keenly aware of the deranged mental health of teachers. I shook the thoughts from my head and continued on.

Once again, I wondered where the people were who had been strolling through the snow earlier. Looking around, I realized very little was in sight. The snowfall and wind speed had picked up somewhere between smashing my fingers and having vengeful thoughts towards my future substitute teacher and all the intelligent people had taken cover in their homes. The rest of us were wearing ice sculptures shaped as tennis shoes, no socks, and slowly moving into the first stages of hypothermia.

The severity of the situation hadn’t quite hit me.

But a high speed wooden toboggan did.

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