Saturnalia

At 10am on Friday there were 37 customers stranded in Jane’s. It took Ray a split second to figure that out – all 32 seats were occupied and there were 5 people standing, not counting Skid, himself, the Sheriff,or, of course, Jane. Jose was off somewhere, which was unfortunate since they sorely needed help. The novelty of beind isolated in a farmhouse during an ice storm was wearing off. The Sheriff had made a simple announcement that it would take at least several hours before power was restored and the roads were cleared of fallen trees and other debris. Until then the winter storm emergency would be in effect and no motor vehicle traffic was allowed, except for a veritable emergency (no, the Arts Festival does not qualify.)

The Sheriff advised that he would be in constant touch with his deputies and the state police and would pass along any news as soon as he heard. Although the temperature was well above freezing the sky was overcast and many roads were slick with black ice. The afternoon forecast was for winds gusting to 30mph, and more freezing weather and snow was possible. A low pressure front had stalled a high pressure front, or something like that, leaving it anybody’s guess what would happen next.

Sheriff Thom looked around the dining room to check the reaction. The people could not have been more subdued. The last two days of the Festival were the most exciting, especially the parties, which ran continuously from Thursday night to Sunday morning. Everyone wanted to be on campus, or at least in Greektown. Breakfast had been great, but now they were stuck at Jane’s with nothing to do.

A young man jumped up and scolded the man sitting next to him: “I told you we should have stayed on campus.” He stalked out of the room, into the front yard.

Sheriff shrugged.

David Prendergast stood up and called for everyone’s attention, feeling obliged to make a statement to the attendees. “I’m sure we all wish we could get back to the Festival. Sheriff Thom is doing everything he can to help. We’re fortunate that he happens to be with us. Meanwhile let’s just relax. We can’t control the weather, or how long it will take to clear the roads.”

Sheriff nodded at David, pleased to let someone else hold the reins. He slipped off upstairs to the bedroom he was using as a makeshift office. It was possible that the roads would be cleared before dark, but more likely not. Noon Saturday was what the state police were saying, and they were usually pretty close. He had held that back from the assemblage.

The front door opened and Professor Donald Loomis stood in the doorframe, his face ruddy from exertion. He tapped his ski boots against the frame to remove snow and ice. “Well,” he announced to the room with a smile, “ that took longer than usual.” There was enough snow in places. Most of the route was bare, or icy, so he walked more than skiied. Even klister didn’t work well on the muddy nice. It was possibly the last ski day of the season so he just had to get out. Early birds were heading north already.
“Hey Professor!” cried Skid. “How’s the skiing?” Few in the room knew the Professor, but it was evident he had come some time and distance, which provided an instant topic of conversation. Some of the stranded had already reached their threshold for boredom.

Professor was surprised that the room was full so late in the morning, and disappointed that his usual table was taken. He had hoped to read the newspaper over coffee by the fireplace before heading back to his house. It had taken over 3 hours to get to Jane’s and he expected it would take as long to get back. Casper offered the Professor his own seat but the Professor declined.

Jane led him into the kitchen and fed him there, cobbling together an omelette of green onions, tomatoes, and woodchuck bacon. Professor was too hungry to notice the last, wolfed down his food while Jane made small talk about the weather and the restaurant. It had been an auspicious three weeks since the place opened, now Jane was beginning to think ahead to Sunday, when the festival would be over and the town back to normal.

“Well, you’ve got one steady customer” offered the Professor. He took a sip of coffee and wiped his mouth, thinking that the bacon had been oddly greasy. He looked up and innocently met Jane’s eye. If he had had a child, he reflected, he would have been proud if she turned out like Jane, self-reliant and content to remain in Chenango County and keep the farm operational. He wished he had been more of a neighbor over the years. So much had changed.

“A penny for your thoughts, Donald”

“Well” Professor harrumphed, “I’m just a nostalgic old man but I love what you’ve done. I do like company, you know. I know I’m regarded as an eccentric loner, and I suppose I am, but...but that’s just one side of me.”

Jane smiled encouragingly. She never thought of the Professor as eccentric or a loner. He was a neighborhood celebrity, if someone who lives several miles away can be considered a neighbor. Everyone else in the area was a farmer, or an outsider.

Then she considered whether she was a loner, too. Although Jose lived in the guesthouse she had been living alone in the house for over 20 years. Earlier on she had lots of friends, and a social life. But her friends got busy with their own families and many moved out of the area. Apart from Veronica Verploenck she was barely in touch with anyone.

“Well I don’t know if people think I’m eccentric but I guess I’m something of a loner.”

Professor decided to change the subject: “Seems like that David Prendergast is another steady customer,” he caught her eye again, “ maybe more than that.”

Jane laughed, would have blushed if she hadn’t. “I don’t think he’s interested in me. He probably has girlfriends in New York City, or on campus, all those coeds you know?”

Professor didn’t know, certainly not empirically. “If that’s so why does he come here all the time, alone?”

Ray knocked and entered without waiting for a cue. “Hi, Professor. Jane, what are we going to do about lunch?”

“And you have Ray, too” Professor observed. “I think you have a success story here, Jane. You might not get rich but it’ll help. Anyway, this is best thing to happen here in years.” Like 50 years, thought the Professor.

“There’s no telling what this place might become” opined Ray, firmly believing his words. “In nice weather people will drive out from town and a lot of places – Afton, Bainbridge, Oxford, Sydney, even Binghamton or Cortland - a drive in the country and a hearty breakfast, or lunch. Hell, we might even open for dinner.”

“Dinner!?” Jane arched her eyebrows, wondering what other thoughts Ray had about the restaurant. “Hmm. Hadn’t thought about that. Let’s talk about today’s lunch – can I get you anything else, Donald? Do you want to stay around? I’ll bring down some more chairs and see if I can get you your table by the fireplace.”

Professor had a hard time disguising his enthusiasm for the idea. He was actually excited by the crowd in the dining room. He only knew David, and the German fellow Casper. The others were a very Bohemian sort. He would like nothing more than to read by the fireside and surreptitiously observe the room. Come to think of it David and Casper were the same type, but also met Professor’s standards for being gentlemen.

Jane ordered Ray to bring down a few more chairs. Ray asked again about lunch but Jane said not to worry. She went out into the dining room to see about the Professor’s table. As it turned out it was David’s table at the moment. Casper, Rodrigo, and Pygmy were with him. They shifted their chairs to allow for a fifth chair for the Professor.

Casper was elated at the opportunity to continue talking about Washington Loomis, Jesse James, and the wild west. As a boy in Cologne he went to Western movies every week. He knew of course that New York was on the east coast but so what, it was on the same continent. He also knew that Jesse James died in Minnesota, so if Minnesota why not New York, why not Chenango County. However he was too well mannered to impose on the Professor, who seemed to want to read quietly. They had all day, after all, and perhaps longer.

“Jeez I’m bored” someone announced to no one in particular. It was just past noon. An optimistic few hoped that the Sheriff would pop out at any time and tell them it was okay to go back to campus. Ray put on the country music radio station for entertainment. Jane held back on bringing down the television from her bedroom, figuring to do that in the evening if they were still there. There wasn’t much to do. Nobody was really dressed for the weather. It was wet and very windy, a clammy sort of cool. The ground was either mushy or slippery. Still, people went out just to have something to do, walked out to the road and walked back and forth on the blacktop, skirting around the fallen limbs and other debris. Cell phone use was discouraged, and service was problematic at best.

Someone asked Jane if she had Monopoly, a chess set, or a deck of cards. No to the first two but she found a few old decks of cards in the attic and a couple of other board games. She also allowed anyone who wished to read to rummage through the boxes of books up there. By 1pm things were as settled as they would get, each to his own devices to pass the time.

She checked in with her brother to see how things stood. He was uncharacteristically curt with her: “I said I would tell people the news when I got any news.” He seemed depressed to her, sitting by the telephone, worrying over a folio of police documents.

“I’m going to be fixing lunch pretty soon. Can I bring you up something?”

“Sure. Anything. Take your time. I’m fine.” He didn’t look at all fine. She knew he was stressed out over a homicide investigation, and of course the ice storm. Now he has Paul Giardino filing a complaint about Jose rustling his yak. Her brother was only 4 years older but his years as sheriff had taken a toll.

Pygmy and David volunteered to help Jane and Ray in the kitchen. They spend more time gabbing than cooking so lunch isn’t ready until after 5pm. People eat very slowly, hoping that before they finish the Sheriff will come out and allow them to leave. At 7pm the Sheriff finally appears and tells them the roads will be opened at 8am on Saturday.

“But it’s Friday and I haven’t gotten laid yet!”

Sheriff Thom recoiled, then had the notion to arrest the brazen young man who stood face to face with him. He chose to ignore the man. The room knew that there was no question about it, they would be spending the night at Jane’s. Everyone felt inconvenienced, and Jane had to somehow accommodate them all. Nearly everyone would have to sleep in chairs or on the floor. Professor could have the sofa. Her brother would sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. Pygmy would get the other, along with three other females. Jane reflected that there was a 7:1 male:female ratio.

Just when Jane was thinking ‘cheer up, things could get worse’ Sheriff told Jane about the complaint against Jose.

“Why in hell would Jose rustle any animals? And what the hell is a yak?”

“That’s not all – someone at the county offices told Cornelia Cabot Holmes about it and she has gone out and retained counsel for Jose. So two Johnnie Cochrans are going to fight over it. Takes it out of my hands.” Sheriff raised his hands, palms forward “I’m already over budget for the year, and no, I don’t know what a yak is either, but there was, supposedly, elk and buffalo. Personally I wouldn’t be surprised if it was black market livestock, but that’s just between you and me.”

About 8pm the wind died and rain stopped. The temperature was still rising, slowly, hovering at 50. It seemed crazy not to be able to leave. Ray took the television downstairs and set it up in the dining room, where it could only get PBS so for the first hour it was “Wall Street Week”. followed by “The Albany Report.” The Lawrence Welk Show made a few fans that night. When the station signed off with “The Star Spangled Banner” the entire room sang along. Then Jane just said it was time to dim the lights and the house quieted down and went to sleep.

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