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Hello,everyone! February is the month of valentines and chocolates. But not everyone is a fan. When Valentine’s Day falls on Bowling League night and the area churches plan a “Festival of Love,” Ray is left wondering if his bowling alley will manage to stay afloat. Then came the ice storm…

 

 

Valentine’s at the Shangri-La

 

Ray seethed behind the shoe return desk absently spraying disinfectant into a pair of returned bowling shoes. The sound of a few pins falling pierced the silence in the Shangri-La. Making sure he was unobserved, he removed his spit bucket from behind the Size 10 shoes and spat out some tobacco juice. Why did goddamn Valentine’s Day have to be on a Wednesday? And why the hell did all the churches in town decide to have a “Festival of Love” on bowling league night? Everybody knew Wednesday was bowling league night. He’d fought for years with Wednesday being Bible Study night, but this was beyond all sense of fair play. With all the leagues cancelling, he’d be lucky to have twenty bucks in the till at closing time. He counted on every dollar coming in on bowling league nights to pay off the loan he’d taken out for new equipment and repairs to the bowling lanes.

 

The loud thud of a bowling ball made Ray wince. Hank Dawkins was over in lane three working off his anger issues which mainly involved lofting a fifteen pound bowling ball and pitching it halfway down the lane towards the pins. Hopefully, he’d be through his anger management program before Cheryl showed up for her shift behind the snack counter. Hank and Cheryl had history. Hank kidnapped a car salesman a few years back. Walked into the car dealership pretending to want a test drive. Took the salesman out into the back country and shot him in the leg. Hank was after the man who was running around with his wife. Turns out, he wanted Cheryl’s husband Chip, the tire sales guy, and got it mixed up in his head who the culprit was. After three years in the regional jail, Hank was back in town.
 

Cheryl divorced Chip who wasted no time running off and marrying Hank’s ex, Brenda (who divorced him after his conviction). Now, Cheryl babysits for the Millers, taking care of their kids before and after school. At six, when the Millers get home from work, Cheryl comes to the Shangri-La Adventure Park and Bowling Alley to work the snack counter until closing. Ray was wondering where she might be when the door to the bowling alley swung open.

 

The frigid air rushing in startled Ray. He almost dumped his spit bucket into the shoes as he moved to hide it out of sight.

 

“Ray,” Cheryl called out. “Ray, I brought them Valentime’s Day cookies like I promised.” 

 

His irritation with his sister’s tardiness was fleeting. He loved her slow, sweet Southern accent pronouncing his name in three syllables. She teetered in on red glitter stiletto heels clutching two large containers of cookies close to her chest. She handed the containers to him. Through the clear lids, he saw heart shaped cookies decorated like Sweetheart candies in pink and red icing on which Cheryl had carefully piped “Your My Valentime” and “Be My Valentime.” Rather than call attention to her spelling errors, he grinned at her. “Man, Cheryl, these look delicious.”

 

Cheryl beamed at the compliment, then frowned. “Those Miller kids was all hyped up from eating Valentime’s candy at school,” she said sauntering to the snack counter. Her bleached blonde hair was tossed up on her head in a kind of wild bun. Ray coughed on hairspray fumes as she swept past him. She was wearing a pair of painted on black leggings; a plunging, long sleeved black lace see-through top; and a red bra. On a normal Wednesday night, Ray would have gone through the roof over her attire, but hey, it was “Valentime’s Day.” Nobody was going to be coming in anyway.

 

The two teens from lane five finished their game and approached the snack counter. “Two slices of pepperoni and two sweet teas,” the t-shirted boy said. The girl had run off to the Ladies.

 

“Don’t you want the Valentime’s special?” Cheryl asked.

 

“Dunno. What is it?”

 

“We’ve got a special surf and turf dinner. Only $4.99.”

 

“What kind of surf and turf dinner is only $4.99?” the boy challenged.

 

“Well, it’s a hot dog on a bun, three deep fried shrimp, and coleslaw. Your choice of soda or tea. Fries are extra.”

 

The girl had come back from the Ladies room. She stood behind the boy putting her arms around his waist. “Oooh, that sounds good, don’t it?” She nibbled his ear. He blushed as red as Cheryl’s bra and swiped the girl’s lips from his ear.

 

“Alright, two specials, I guess.” He was jolted from behind. “Oh, and fries.” Another jolt. “Fries with both of ‘em.”

 

Cheryl bustled behind the counter preparing the food. The couple sat on the stools, twirling around and giggling at each other. After serving their food, she snapped off the lid from a container of cookies. “And, since it’s Valentime’s Day, you each get a free cookie.”

 

“You know, Cheryl, it’s really not Valentime’s Day,” Hank snarled walking up to the counter. “But it is Valentine’s Day. Only hicks say it wrong.”

 

Ray came over to the snack counter. “Leave her alone, Hank. And if you’re done bowling, turn in your shoes and go on home.”

 

Hank glared at Ray, then turned back to Cheryl. “If you’d a shown off them tits when you was married, things would have turned out a lot better for me.”

 

Cheryl fired back. “Well, Mister Shot the Wrong Guy, I didn’t have these tits when I was married. I went and bought ‘em with my divorce money, so there.”

 

Hank leaned against the counter peering at Cheryl through his thick black framed glasses. “Weren’t money wasted from what I can see. Can I get me a diet to go? One of them free cookies, too.”

 

Fuming, Cheryl handed Hank his diet soda and opened the container of cookies. Hank laughed as he picked out a red iced “Your My Valentime” cookie. He slapped a ten on the counter giving a departing shot, “Keep the change, Cheryl. Put it in a fund to fix the rest of you up to snuff.”

 

Cheryl scowled but Ray watched her tuck the tip money into her pocket. Hank returned his bowling shoes and left.

 

“Good riddance,” Ray muttered. The two teens had been quietly eating during the heated exchange between Hank and Cheryl. Shit, last thing I need is for them two to go home and tell their parents about this nonsense. Ray walked over and offered an amiable “Happy Valentine’s Day” to the pair.

 

Just as he was about to inquire about the special, the doors blew open with a frozen blast of air. Hank was back. He was limping. Worse yet, his broken glasses dangled in his hand. Ray rushed over. “Hank, what the hell —?”

 

“Your goddamn parking lot is an ice rink. I slipped and banged my knee when I was scraping ice of the windshield. My glasses went flying. Snapped the arm off ‘em.”

 

Ray was incredulous. “Ice?”

 

The phone rang. Cheryl answered then took the phone from her ear and held it out. “Ray, it’s Chief Whitfield. Wants to talk with you.”

 

“Yeah, Chief. What can I do for you? What? No, we didn’t hear anything out here. Power’s out in town? Everywhere? No shit… Warming Center? You want me to keep this place open as a Warming Center? Well, how long? Won’t the power people —, yeah …, well, shit. Okay. But my parking lot is a sheet of ice, apparently.” Ray shot a look at Hank. “Okay, you send the town trucks to clear my lot. Don’t want anybody suing me when I’m doing my civic duty…right. You bet, Chief. Glad I can help.”

 

Ray handed the receiver back to Cheryl. “Lumber truck was driving through town. Lost control on the ice and took out the town’s main transformer and power line. Power folks won’t come out to do anything until the storm passes. Nobody in town’s got power. Chief says it could be out for days. Guess we’re lucky to be on county property and co-op power lines instead of the town’s electric.”

 

“Ray, they don’t expect you to keep the entire town here for days, do they?” Cheryl wailed. “There’s not enough food here for that. I can’t fix food for the whole town. Not by myself.”

 

Hank cleared his throat. “Ray, call the chief back. Tell him to ask anyone wanting to come here to bring a bag of canned or boxed food. That will help with supplies. You got any big pots here? Like for chili or soup?”

 

“Nope, we’re strictly a dogs and pizza snack bar. We only got the shrimp for our special today,” Ray said. “But we have the grill, too, for burgers.”

 

Hank nodded, already on his cell phone. “Hey, Mike. I’m up here at the Shangri-La…yeah, had to bowl off some steam…hey, listen. You got no power, right? Well, the chief’s already called Ray asking him to keep the bowling alley open as a warming center… yeah, he’s on county co-op power. Can you grab one of your big stock pots and bring it here… yeah, thanks, Mike.”

 

Ray ended his call with the chief as Hank put his cell phone back in his pocket. “Chief says he’s gonna put out the word about bringing a bag of food donations. That was a good idea. Thanks, Hank…I guess you’ll be staying, too? Your place probably doesn’t have any power.”

 

Before Hank could respond, Cheryl called out to the teens who were headed for the door. “Y’all come on back here. You ain’t leavin’. Git over here and call your parents. Tell ‘em you’re safe and stayin’ for the night. And if they need to, they can come on over. We’re having the Great Valentime’s Day Sleepover at the Shangri-La. Free cookies while they last.”

 

Headlights from the town’s public works trucks beamed through the glass doors. As the trucks treated the parking lot, cars began pouring in from the highway. An ambulance flashing its red lights pulled up to the doorway. Ray ran out to assist the EMTs bring in an elderly couple. The woman tugged at Ray’s sleeve. “Your daddy and granddaddy would be mighty proud of you tonight, Ray.” It was Mrs. Stevens, his third grade teacher, long retired.

 

Ray pushed Mrs. Stevens and her wheelchair to the door. Cheryl opened it with a grand gesture, “Welcome to the Shangri-La.”

 

“Jesus, Cheryl. Shut the door! We can’t be a warming center inside if you’re going to heat the whole parking lot.”

 

Cheryl shut the door, her teeth chattering. Ray regretted his sharp words. The lacey getup was doing little to keep her warm.

 

“There’s a jacket in my office. Get it and get warmed up. Maybe we should get coffee on?” Ray suggested. He looked over at Hank. “And there’s duct tape in the bottom drawer of my desk. Let me see what I can do about patching up Hank’s glasses.”

 

“Good idea about the coffee. And I’ll heat hot water for cocoa for the kids. It’ll go great with my cookies.” Then, sourly, “I’ll look for the tape, too.”

 

As Ray worked with the tape to jerry-rig Hank’s glasses back together, Mike struggled through the door carrying the biggest stock pot Ray had ever seen. He handed the heavy pot to Ray. It was filled with cans of tomatoes and kidney beans, chili powder, tomato paste, onions, and hamburger. “Not quite everything for chili, but if folks get hungry, I doubt you’ll get complaints,” Mike said. “Glad Maggie talked me into getting a generator. Call me if you need anything.”

 

People continued to pour into the bowling alley. Most brought bags of food with them and blankets and pillows. Some kids had sleeping bags. Despite the weather and circumstances, everyone seemed in good spirits. Cheryl was occupied handing out cups of coffee and cocoa. The kids dove into the cookies getting pink and red icing all over everything.

 

Ray and Hank took the bags of food and sorted them. Ray was happy to find several boxes of instant oatmeal. He had worried about the morning and what to fix people for breakfast. A few bags contained unopened cartons of milk and eggs which Ray put into the walk-in along with the hamburger Mike included in his chili makings donation.

 

By ten o’clock, there were seventy-five people in the bowling alley. Since no one seemed ready to settle in, Ray went to the back and lit up all the lanes. He turned up the sound system and put on one of his dad’s favorite Doo-Wop discs. The space in front of lanes one through five became a makeshift dance floor with couples slow dancing to something by The Platters. Ray smiled as he saw the two teens join the dance floor.

 

Families gathered into teams for bowling. Ray handed out shoes. Cheryl ditched her stilettoes for a pair of bowling shoes. She and Hank worked in tandem at the snack counter, handing out pizza or the Valentine’s Day special. Mrs. Stevens had a group of young children gathered around her wheelchair while she told stories.

 

A man walked up to the shoe counter. Ray was on automatic. Without glancing up, he asked, “What size?”

 

“Ray, this is terrific. Had no idea you’d be able to pull this together.” It was Chief Whitfield. “Mayor asked me to tell you to keep track of your expenditures. The town’s going to reimburse you for your trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if the county didn’t kick in some, too. Sheriff is telling people on this end of the county to come here if they need to.”

 

Ray scratched his head. “Chief, I didn’t pull any of this together. If it hadn’t been for that accident in town, none of this would be happening.”

 

Ray and Chief Whitfield stood watching the activity. Chief Whitfield nodded towards the snack counter. “How’s that working out?”

 

“Détente for the moment,” Ray replied. “Actually, Hank’s been a big help.”

 

“Outta be. He was a cook up at the jail.” Satisfied, Chief Whitfield headed to the door. “If there’s any trouble around tonight, I don’t think it’ll be happening here.”

 

The bowling, dancing, and dining continued until midnight. Hank and Cheryl closed down the snack counter. Ray shut down the lanes and the music. He turned on the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Shangri-La is proud to be able to provide this warming center for you tonight. I hope everyone’s been enjoying themselves.” He heard thunderous applause. “Of course, we’re not equipped for a sleepover, but we’ll do the best we can. If the kids with sleeping bags keep their bowling shoes on, they can walk out carefully onto the lanes and spread their sleeping bags there. The rest of us, well, we’ll wing it somehow.”

 

Ray returned to the front and helped the kids get their sleeping bags spread out in the lanes. Adults slouched in the chairs at the bowling lanes or stretched out on the floor. Ray looked around for the two teens. He was glad to see the girl situated near an adult couple. The boy was a couple of lanes away. Relief came over Ray. One potential problem had resolved itself.

 

Ray’s next concern was Mrs. Stevens and her husband. He went to the wheelchair bound couple. “Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, what can I do to make y’all comfortable?”

 

Mr. Stevens tutted. “No need to bother ‘bout us, Ray. We’ll be alright in these chairs tonight. Not like we haven’t fallen asleep in them before, right, Clara?”

 

“True.” She laughed. “Although that’s mostly during the game shows on TV. No, we’ll be fine, Ray. Really. You’ve done a wonderful thing here tonight. We’re grateful.”

 

Content that everyone was situated as well as he was able to make them, Ray turned the lights down. He looked around for his sister and located her in one of the bowling lane chairs. In the chair next to her was Hank. Ray shook his head in disbelief. If that don’t beat all. Those two been laying blame on each other for years, now here they are all cuddled up at the Shangri-La.

 

Ray found his spot for the night behind the shoe counter near the front door. He decided not to lock the doors just in case there were any late comers. He was nearly asleep when there was tapping on the front door. The glass was steamed up but he detected a female figure outside. Opening the door, he recognized Mary Sue Patterson, the town’s librarian.

 

“Geeze, Mary Sue, get in here. You’re half froze,” Ray chided.

 

“Thanks, Ray. I’ve been at the library dealing with broken water pipes. I didn’t want any of the library’s collection to get damaged. Thankfully, the Fire Department got the water shut off so I think we minimized the damage,” she said. “Then, I skittered on the road all the way down here. The town’s kind of creepy with the total darkness and ice.” She laughed. “Would make the beginnings of a great cozy mystery story.”

 

“Don’t know what that is,” Ray admitted. “But the accident in town made this the best Valentine’s Day the Shangri-La ever had. Saw a lotta folks in here tonight that hadn’t been here in years. Even got a couple of ’em signed up for league bowling.”

 

Bright sunshine greeted them in the morning. Kids ate instant oatmeal. Cheryl handed out bowls of cereal with milk. Ray kept the coffee urn going. Hank manned the grill making scrambled eggs before turning his attention to browning the hamburger for chili. Someone shouted “There go the power trucks!” which sent up a cheer.
    
Later in the day, Chief Whitfield came through the doors. “Southside’s got power. Rest of the town should be restored by tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest.”

 

With that news, people in need of the comforts of home and a shower began to leave, including Mary Sue who gave Ray a peck on the cheek. One of the departing children asked, “Mr. Padgett, you gonna do this again next year, right?”

 

Ray caught the twinkle in Mary Sue’s eyes. “You betcha,” he promised.