Free Leftovers: A Novel by Arthur Wooten Page B

containers from him as he fought with his crutch and then shut the door.
    The snow was knee deep as Babs plodded her way towards Vivian’s house. Slowly, she carved out a path to the front door. Completely out of breath, she rang the doorbell, but there was no sound. She tried ringing it again and then knocked on the door. Getting no response, she dug out a spot in the snow with her hands and put the food-filled Tupperware down into it and then backtracked down the walkway and worked her way to the garage.
    So much snow had fallen since Vivian had parked the Buick that Babs couldn’t see any tire tracks. And with the garage door windowless, she couldn’t tell if her car was in there or not. She made her way to the kitchen door and pounded on it.
    “Viv!” she hollered. “Vivian, are you in there?”
    Still getting no response and beginning to shiver, Babs tried scraping off the ice that had accumulated on the back door window but she couldn’t see in. Her thighs started to burn as she trudged back to the car.
    She opened her door and fell onto the driver’s seat. “I don’t think she’s there,” she said breathlessly. “No answer and can’t tell if the car’s in the garage.”
    “What did you do with the food?”
    “Dug a hole and left if on the front step.”
    Stew shrugged his shoulders as Babs closed her door and shifted into first. “This snow isn’t going anywhere fast,” he said. “Wherever she is, the food will still be fresh and frozen till she gets to it.”
    They both laughed nervously as she drove off.
    In total darkness, Vivian sat at the kitchen table almost comatose. She was emotionally spent and nutritionally deprived. If only Babs could have seen in through the window, she might have noticed the red glow of Vivian’s cigarette as she took another drag.

FIVE
CHUBBY BUNNIES
     
    The next day it finally stopped snowing. It was sunny and cold and like all true-blooded Yankees, the townsfolk of Abbot quickly banded together clearing the streets and sidewalks preparing for one of their busiest shopping days of the year.
    Vivian had fallen asleep on the sofa and eventually woke up when she heard some sort of drilling coming from the front of the house. She got to her feet and feeling a bit dizzy, staggered to the door. She opened it and found to her surprise, Henry Laytner standing there, watching Carl Willows trying to remove the lock from the door.
    “Vivian,” Henry exclaimed, as he looked very tidy with his pant legs tucked into his galoshes. “You
are
home.”
    “Yes,” she replied.
    “We knocked for a long time,” Carl said, as if he was caught doing something wrong.
    “Vivian, this is Carl Willows.”
    Carl turned to Henry. “Viv and I went to school together.”
    “Yes, we did.”
    There was an awkward pause and then Henry cleared his throat. “Vivian, I’m so sorry, but we have to change the locks.”
    She looked at him, confused.
    “The bank posted several eviction notices on your house,” he continued as she looked at him vacantly. “You must have seen them.”
    “I suppose so.”
    “You had a couple of weeks to move your belongings out. The bank now owns the house.”
    “Oh my.”
    There was another awkward pause and Henry cleared his throat again. “Uh, we have to ask you to leave.”
    “OK,” she said unemotionally as she gestured for them to come in.
    At first sight, both Henry and Carl were taken aback at how the living room looked. Vivian had never picked up the objects she had thrown at Paul back in September, nor had she cleaned or straightened up the place. Newspapers, magazines, dirty glasses and dishes littered the room.
    Henry took out the handkerchief from his suit’s breast pocket and dabbed it to his nose. “Vivian, the bank will hold your possessions for a period of time and you’ll be able to reclaim them but . . . ”
    She cut him off as she headed upstairs. “There isn’t anything I want. I’ll pack a suitcase and come back