Lions-on-Line Spring 2010

white snow. This blizzard has hit so abruptly that no one could have done anything to prepare for it.

I decide to look out the front door, so I briskly walk to it, and pull on the handle. It won’t move, so I yank with more force, but it still won’t budge. The combination of ice and snow has sealed the door shut. I try to open the rear door, but the exact same thing happens. The only other access point to the exterior is the loading door, so that’s where I head. When I get there, I immediately know that these are sealed shut too. Ice is budding in the narrow cracks around the edges of the loading door. Regardless of what I already know, I heave as forcefully as I can on the handle. The door isn’t persuaded to move by my efforts to escape. My heart starts to pound vigorously enough that it is capable of being heard and I slide to the floor while the room starts to spin and my head becomes heavy from the immense amount of shock that fills me.

After my vision becomes clear, I rise and walk to the phone so I can call someone who can help us. I pick up the phone, and to my surprise the line is dead. Dizziness creeps back up, but I shake it off and rapidly make my way to the lounge area. I get no reactions from the four absorbed beings. At least not until I pick up a wine glass from the counter and hurl it against the wall across the room. The high pitched shatter of the glass forces all four of their heads to shoot up at the exact same second. Panic covers all of their faces.

As I give an explanation for my behavior, they sit in silence. I finish clarifying, and we all go to a table to formulate a plan. The young man named Jacob is exceptionally creative and he comes up with the idea to construct a device that would melt the ice on the outside of a door.

He jokes about having his imaginative brain turned on since he’s been working on his poetry book all night. Stanley, the college professor uses his vast knowledge of science and numbers to create the measurements for the device. Savannah, the teenager, puts her love of art to good use and draws the blueprints for the machine with the help of Jacob and Stanley. The middle aged woman’s name is Beth and she and I both know how to speedily make coffee, which is a key component in the melting device. Beth justifies her coffee-making skill by revealing the problems that take place in her home. She makes coffee numerous times a day so she can stay awake because the previous nights are spent either fighting with her husband, caring for her kids, hiding from her husband after she is beaten, or figuring out what kind of future she has in store for her and her children. Her openness and honesty is a refreshing change after I have been pondering about each of these individuals for over a month. A short period of time passes and each of our jobs is complete. It is time to break free from the confinement of the Front Porch Coffee House.

Jacob carries the tire-sized machine with ease towards the front door. His muscles stretch and conform to the sleeves of his shirt. He places it gently on the floor and steps away so Stanley can make a few final adjustments before we get started. Beth and I pour the steaming coffee into the pump for the device to use. The heavenly fragrance of the alluring aromatic coffee swirls around our bodies and takes us far away for a moment, but we return swiftly and get back to business. Everything is set up properly and we are all eager to get out of the coffeehouse, so we continue on with the operation. Savannah turns the machine on and coffee travels up the tubes that are connected to the top and sides of the door. Steam is being produced from the scorching coffee and the arctic air. This indicates that the heat of the coffee has melted 58