Wolf

Wolf When she finally came out of it, Beth stayed on the bed, belly down, hands tucked like two crumpled leaves beneath the pillow. It was winter, and where the heavy curtains nearly met the sill, she watched the black line of glass turn cold indigo. Not counting the afternoon Emma had had to shake her awake in the back of the snowcat—because she wasn’t sure it had really happened then, and she wanted to be sure when she counted— seventeen times Beth had woken from a night’s sleep or a nap and been unable to move. After those first terrifying episodes, she’d stopped trying to fight it and had finally learned to let it pass: feel her heart beat against the thin mattress, count the small thumps, a helicopter in her chest revving and relinquishing but never taking o√, until by some flick of a switch she was released. Now she pushed herself up from the bed, and like a wet dog, shook herself all over. This was Beth’s third winter working at the Old Faithful Lodge, and as in previous years, it was part of her job four days a week to drive a snowcat to West—the http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Prairie Schooner University of Nebraska Press

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Abstract

When she finally came out of it, Beth stayed on the bed, belly down, hands tucked like two crumpled leaves beneath the pillow. It was winter, and where the heavy curtains nearly met the sill, she watched the black line of glass turn cold indigo. Not counting the afternoon Emma had had to shake her awake in the back of the snowcat—because she wasn’t sure it had really happened then, and she wanted to be sure when she counted— seventeen times Beth had woken from a night’s sleep or a nap and been unable to move. After those first terrifying episodes, she’d stopped trying to fight it and had finally learned to let it pass: feel her heart beat against the thin mattress, count the small thumps, a helicopter in her chest revving and relinquishing but never taking o√, until by some flick of a switch she was released. Now she pushed herself up from the bed, and like a wet dog, shook herself all over. This was Beth’s third winter working at the Old Faithful Lodge, and as in previous years, it was part of her job four days a week to drive a snowcat to West—the

Journal

Prairie SchoonerUniversity of Nebraska Press

Published: Aug 7, 2016

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