It was late, about 1am on the Iowa side of the Mississippi river. Pete was meeting some of his friends from work up here at his friends cottage. Just a weekend getaway. Just beer booze and cards. Then maybe a trip into town to the casino and strip club. He was supposed to have gotten here before sundown, be he had to stay late at work. He had told them he would meet up with them later. Now he would have to make the crossing by himself in the dark. He found their cars, and parked. It was the middle of winter, it was cold now, but it had been unseasonable warm up to this point. But they had said that the ice was fine and they should be able to cross.
Well that was a fine plan, when he heard it, but now that he was here it was a different story. Before unloading the car he walked out to the doc. He found a note.
It read ‘Pete, we crossed at 4:45. We put up this rope. Hold on to it when you cross and you should be fine. Cya later. -- Dave’.
It was surreal out here. The sharp coldness, the eerie quietness, the full moon reflecting off the snow on the ground and trees. It was beautiful, yet foreboding. Dave looked at the river and started having a mental battle with himself. There were a few cottages on the other side, but they looked empty. If he did fall in, he would be screwed. But his friends crossed, didn‘t they? He didn’t see any holes in the ice at least, and their cars were here. They had to have made it! So all he had to do was cross, then make the mile trek to the other side of the island and he would be fine. Sit by the fire, drink some beers, smoke a little weed. Tomorrow they were planning on dropping a few hits. This was going to be a cool weekend. Yes! But was it worth death? Aah don’t be a fucking pussy! You’ve driven 2 hours out to the country, you’ve come this far. They got across. It’s colder now then when they crossed. The battle raged in his head. They he finally said fuck it.
He went back to his car and grabbed his gear, a backpack, a sleeping bag, bedroll, and case of beer. At the edge of the doc, the cold hand of fear again gripped him. The doc was moving up and down slightly with every step, or shift in weight and there was about a foot’s width of open water before the ice started. Although Pete was kind of a free spirit, he wasn’t stupid. He knew his 6’4’’ 245 lbs frame would put strain on the ice. But he thought if he did fall in, he would ditch his equipment and pull himself out with the rope, then get warm in his car. He was a weightlifter and kept himself in shape. Surely if he fell in he could claw his way out. If all else failed and he couldn’t he brought a whistle and had it hanging around his neck. If he did fall in, and couldn’t get out, he would make a shit load of noise. Not that anyone would hear it. It seemed desolate out here. But he never really thought he would need it. It was just something he read in a survival book at some point. Always bring a whistle if you do try to cross ice. He did admit it gave him a little bit of confidence.
Ready to go now, Pete threw his backpack out on the ice. It slid to a stop. So far so good he thought, so went the sleeping bag and bedroll. Now, holding the case of beer in one hand and grasping the rope in the other he extended his foot out. Now or never he thought, he would have to commit. He put his weight now on the ice. Crack. Ripple, thud. (Words cannot describe this sound. Unless you have been on treacherous ice, you cannot know this sound, or the feeling it evokes in you as you hear it)
But the ice held, he slowly gathered his belongings and started on the trek. Granted this was not the Mississippi he was crossing, this was just a little inlet of it. Just 70 - 90 ft and he would be across it and on to the island. The ice was crackling, but it seemed pretty sturdy. He continued. Pete was kind of a klutz though, as he was moving along, he slipped. As he fell and tried to catch himself, his belonging scattered. Face down on the ice, he heared the ice crack again. Phew! he was okay, but DAM! his sleeping bag had skidded out 7 or 8 feet from where he was. (and where the rope was. His friend told him to stay on the rope. But the ice was good so far? Just a few feet. He stayed on his belly and slithered slowly out to get it. Stretch aaaah got it! Just then the sound of doom. Crack. He tried to spin around, as he did so, the ice gave way.....
The effect of the water was to jolt his heart, like someone had given him an electric shock! He almost had a heart attack. His clothes instantly became like lead weights. His sinews felt their strength being sapped by the cold. He struggled to get back to the rope. He felt a slight current, trying to pull him under. He struggled with all his might.. He blacked out.. when he came to he vaguely remembered what had happened... the angels...the voices...falling hitting his head and waking up in heaven.....
Susan and Jenny were getting ready for bed. Jenny 19 and on Christmas break was here helping her mom. (actually her adopted mom, Susan and here husband had adopted her at a young age. They were the only parents she ever known) Even in her long underwear and flannel you could tell that Jenny was really put together. Lean long legs with lot of curves. A well rounded derrière and young firm breasts. Yet, even under those layers you couldn’t help but notice that they had some size to them. She was HOT!
Officially Susan was 39, she had been ‘39’ for a few years now. But the years had been kind to her. Even though her face was experienced. It was still very attractive. Her body was the essence of woman. Large well defined hips, and rounded butt, tapering to lean legs. And she was very well endowed in the breast department. She had a little tummy, but who doesn’t. She was drop dead gorgeous!
Susan was heart broken. Her husband had just left her. He had run away with some young little whore. Effectively abandoning her and Jenny. It came as a shock to her. She thought things had been good. They got along, or so she thought. And the sex had been great. She flashed back to those passionately encounters. The touching, the closeness, the feeling of skin on skin, his manhood filling her, the loving words said in the darkness afterwards. But this just made the pain worse, she started to sob inwardly. How could he be so cruel? How could he do this to her? She still loved him, but she hated him! And she hated herself for still loving him. And she chided herself for being so trusting. She really had believed him when he said he was working late, or going out with friends. Ooh, she was such a fool!
Jenny, came in the room and saw her mom crying. She comforted her. Putting her arm around her, she told her what a great mom she was, and thanked her. She continued, ‘And I miss Dad too. But ....he’s....(she searched for the right word, asshole, jag off, fucking bastard! she settled with jerk) a jerk! I feel betrayed too mom. How could he do this to you? You were nothing but kind to him. But he’s chosen his road. And that is not our fault. The sooner you can put him behind you and continue with your life the better. For all of us.’
‘Yes honey you are right, thank you’. They hugged, then Susan continued,’ yes, tomorrow we will start with that. The sooner we can sell this place the better. It has too many memories.. ‘
..
She flashed back to her and her husband, skinny dipping in the river, laughing, messing around then running up to the cottage naked! Coming inside to make passionate love by the fireplace on the carpet. The fresh smell of the forest, windows open, the heat of the fire warming their naked bodies, his shaft sliding in and out of her...
..
Coming back to reality Susan, continue, ‘yes, lets get a good nights sleep, then we’ll start early tomorrow.’ Their plan was to take an inventory of everything in the cottage. Later in the spring they would sell it....
‘Did you hear that?’ ‘What?’ Shhhhh, listen.
They could faintly hear the sound of a whistle. ‘What is it?’ They both scrambled to the front door. The frigid air blasted them as they opened it. The noise was louder, fear drove them out on to the porch.
‘Oh my God!’ cried Jenny.
In the glow of moonlight they saw a figure fighting for it’s life trying to climb out of hole in the ice! Cold no longer, they were simply frozen in fear. Each time the figure tried to pull himself up the ice broke and he would go back in. The whistle was becoming less strong and frequent. Any second they expected him to disappear beneath the ice forever.
Susan, snapped into action, she shouted, ‘ HOLD ON! HOLD ON WERE COMING!!’. With that she grabbed Jenny’s arm and they ran back into the house and grabbed their coats and shoes, they immediately spun around and ran out of the house and down to the river!
Pete, although on auto pilot at this point, was finally able to get back to a solid enough piece of ice to pull himself out, he frantically got back to the rope, leaving his gear he started back to the car, but then he heard the most beautiful voices.
The figure was moving the other way from them ‘hey’ ‘Hey!’ ‘HEY! OVER HEAR! Finally he turned around and came towards them. They dared not go out on the ice. But when he got to them he collapsed. Teeth chattering, you could barely make out the pitiful ‘hhhhelp meee’. ‘You have to get up! We cannot carry you! Please get up, we will help you’ The panic in Susan’s voice, spurred him to get up. They helped him back to the cottage.
