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Authors: David Warren

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BOOK: FROSTBITE
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Chapter Eight
 

“Over a dog?” Alex mumbled as the stretcher was loaded into a nearby ambulance. Several onlookers had gathered around, and gazed curiously at the sad scene that had unfolded in front of them.

 

“Oh, it wasn’t just the dog,” I said to him. “Larry had all sorts of problems, as you had earlier pointed out.”

 

“Maybe if I had been nicer to him at the station,” Alex continued, choking up. “If I could have seen what Spike had meant to him…”

 

“It’s not your fault Alex,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “None of this is.”

 

He stared at the ground for a long while. Then he said, “They’re dropping like flies around me.”

 

“What?” I asked, perplexed.

 

“That’s three people in less than a week,” Jones replied.

 

“Three? We don’t know that Alice and Norm are dead,” I said, trying to comfort my friend. Although I had a dreadful feeling in my heart that Alice and Norm
were
dead, and that it
did
have something to do with whatever killed Larry’s Rottweiler.

 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, smiling slightly.

 

“You’re doing the best job that you can,” I said, which I truly believed.

 

“Well, I can take things from here,” Alex said as he looked up at the darkening sky. “Go on home and try to get some rest.”

 

“I think I will,” I replied. It had been an exhausting and very unpleasant day and I was extremely tired. “Is Deputy Rogers still out in the woods?”

 

“Yes,” Alex answered. “But tonight is the last night. I’ve already notified all the surrounding precincts and they have people looking in their jurisdictions as well.”

 

“Good,” was all I could think of to say.

 

“Every inch of those mountains is being searched thoroughly,” Alex said, regaining his composure. “The state police have been notified…I’m doing all I can.”

 

“I know you are,” I smiled at him. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

 

“Thanks,” he said. “Good night Fred.”

 

“Good night Alex,” I responded.

 

***

 

Unlike the night before, I slept all the way through the night and wakened refreshed. Despite everything that had happened the past few days, I found myself whistling as I made my way downstairs. I walked over to my window and spied my newspaper on the front walk. I quickly retrieved it, settled into my chair, and opened it up. BLIZZARD TO HIT WITHIN 24 HOURS was the first thing that I laid my eyes on.

 

At the bottom of the front page of the Parker Hills Herald was a picture of Larry Wallace, followed by a brief article. I started to wonder about the funeral arrangements, if any. Larry must have some surviving family members. I seemed to remember his mother visiting him from time to time. Well, I decided if there wasn’t enough money for a proper burial, then I would fit the bill for it.

 

My good mood quickly evaporating, I put the paper aside and walked through my family room and into my living room. It had been painted light blue about a decade ago, at Sarah’s request. It had a matching couch and recliner and, in between them, my television set. Settling into the recliner, I turned on the television.

 

I never did watch much television, so I didn’t bother getting any sort of cable. Just whatever I could pick up with rabbit ears was fine with me. “At this time,” a female reporter was saying. “It looks like this is going to be one whopper of a storm.” There was a map of Colorado behind her, with a large swirling green blimp covering a large portion of the state.

 

“All this green means trouble for anybody living within the area,” she continued. I looked at the approximate area where Parker Hills would be and grimaced. We were going to get it, all right. Right then I made a mental note to take one more trip to Smith’s Market to stock up on a few things before the storm hit. It looked as though we were all going to be housebound for a while.

 

“Certain parts of the state are calling for three feet or more of snow,” she went on, pointing at the screen behind her. “The governor has already declared Colorado in a state of emergency.”

 

“Figured he would,” I said aloud. Then I remembered saying that very same thing to Larry Wallace just yesterday. Thinking of him made me upset, so I tried to readjust my mind-set. So, I thought of Alice Saunders instead. Poor Tom and Elizabeth, I thought. To have something like this happen, especially so close to Christmas…

 

I abruptly stood up and switched off the television. There was no sense in sitting around the house dwelling on such terrible things. I walked back into my family room and then stopped in front of my little, three foot tall Christmas tree.

 

After Sarah died, I had decided not to put up a big, elaborate tree anymore. It didn’t make any sense, since it was just me now. However, when we were younger, she would have the entire house decorated from top to bottom, inside and out. Seven feet tall trees, garland everywhere, and mistletoe hung at the entrance to the kitchen, where she would grab me and kiss me…

 

I grabbed my old, tan coat and quickly left the house. I decided I wasn’t going to torture myself, not today. I hated when I got into these moods. The best way I found to get out of them was to stay active. Therefore, I got into my car and backed out of my driveway, with no particular place in mind to go.

 

***

 

I drove down my block and made a right hand turn onto Clark Avenue and then another right onto Maple Street. As I slowly made my way up Maple Street, I made a conscious effort to clear my mind of everything and just try to relax.

 

I even tried breathing slowly through my nose and out my mouth, the way someone once told me was the correct way to breathe when you were upset. It was amazing how fast my mood went from being cheery to being dreadful. I looked out my window and stared at the fountain in Duncan’s Park. All of the sudden, I wished that it were summer, and that the large fountain was once again shooting water high into the sky.

 

A lot of old folks retire and move to Florida, where it was nice and warm. But not me. I lived in Parker Hills my entire life, save the two years I was in Vietnam serving my country, that is. If I were to move anywhere, however, it would not be Florida anyhow; it would be California. I think the landscaping out there is gorgeous and I had always liked the Pacific Ocean.
California Dreamin.

 

Just past the fountain, I happened to turn my head and spotted Brad and Kevin Conner, having snowball fights out in the middle of the vast park. Brad was maybe fourteen years old, while little Kevin was around the age of ten. They looked to be having a great time as they threw large balls of snow back and forth to each other in rapid intervals.

 

Then, my mouth hung open. Little Kevin Conner was standing directly in front of a large mound of snow, very similar to the one that I had seen in the woods the other day. I slammed on the brakes and quickly pulled over to the curb. I unbuckled my seatbelt and then paused. They are okay, I told myself. Nothing is going to happen to them. You cannot run around scaring kids out of the snow because of what you think
may
be underneath it. Then, visions of Spike’s head filtrated its way into mind and I bolted out of the Honda.

 
Chapter Nine
 

I plunged into the snow and methodically made my way over to the boys. As deep as it already was, it was hard to imagine that this was only the beginning. As I got closer, I noticed that the snow mound was actually just a small hill, with the snow simply piled on top. Slowing down, I reached the youngsters and stopped short. Ten yards behind little Kevin was a burrow that looked large enough for a man to be able to crawl through.

 

“Hi kids,” I said rather breathlessly.

 

“Hi Mr. Harrison,” they replied in unison.

 

“What are you guys up to?” I casually asked.

 

“I’m destroying Kevin here in our snowball war,” Brad snickered.

 

“Liar,” Kevin countered. “I’m killing you!” he said and flung a snowball with all his might, which sailed far to the left of his target. I stole a glance behind Kevin and stared at the burrow. I had no idea what had made it, but there didn’t seem to be any signs of movement. As I stood there watching the kids play, I started to feel foolish again. Why was I acting this way? Did I really believe that something in the snow was abducting people? On the other hand, there was no denying Larry’s dog either. I decided that it was better to be safe than sorry.

 

“Say,” I cleared my throat. “It’s mighty cold out here.”

 

“Naw,” Brad chortled. “It’s not that bad.”

 

“I’m a little chilly,” Kevin piped in.

 

“Wuss!” Brad cried as he hurled another snowball.

 

“You boys think it is about time to go home?”

 

“No way,” Brad replied as he flung another snowball. “This is fun.”

 

Kevin quickly ducked the latest attack and spotted the burrow. “Wow!” he cheered. “Check it out- a tunnel!”

 

“Um,” I stammered as Kevin kneeled down in front of it. “How does a nice cup of hot chocolate sound to you fellas?”

 

Kevin paused. “Really?”

 

“Really,” I answered. “Plus some of Mrs. Lovell’s homemade jumbo chocolate chip cookies. I was just on my to the diner anyway when I spotted you two and thought that you could use some warming up.”

 

Kevin looked over at his older brother who was nodding vehemently. “Sounds good to me.”

 

“Okay then,” I said. “You boys go pile into my little Honda and I’ll swing you by your house just to make sure that it is okay with your mom first.”

 

The boys quickly made their way toward my car. Of course I wasn’t really planning on going to the diner, but if it meant that the boys were safe then I was all for it. Plus, some hot chocolate and a snack didn’t actually sound that bad either. I turned and stared at the burrow for a moment longer, then I followed suit and made my back to the Honda.

 

***

 

After a quick stop to see Mrs. Connor, the boys and I headed over to Lovell’s Diner. The eatery has been in town since 1952 when Emma Lovell’s mom and dad opened it. Of course upon entering the establishment, you would swear that it still was 1952. The décor had been refurbished over the years, but Emma wanted to keep that cozy, old-time feeling to the place.

 

Immediately to the right of the entrance was a wooden coat rack that had been there since its grand opening. I hung up my old coat and took a look around. Against the wall to the right was a brightly colored juke box, which at that moment was playing
Baby its Cold Outside.

 

The back half of the diner was made up of a long silver counter, with red stools spaced every few feet. Behind the counter was the soda machine and glass cabinets, full of delicious looking treats. To the left of that was a swinging door which led to the kitchen.

 

The front half of the small diner consisted of a row of red colored booths with silver tabletops. We took a seat at the third booth in the row. I glanced toward the rear of the diner at the very last booth. That was Sarah and I’s booth. That’s where we would get chocolate milkshakes and dream about our futures…

 

I forced myself away from the bittersweet memories and refocused on the present. The whole front wall was made up of large windows, and from where I sat I had a good view of South Main Street. I could see Thompson’s Pharmacy and I could also see the CLOSED sign in the Saunders’ Bakery window.

 

The aroma of fresh coffee and the warmth of the diner help to dissolve the depressing thoughts that were scurrying through my mind. After a minute of idle chit-chat, an attractive red haired young lady wearing a pink uniform approached us. “What can I get for you?” she asked as she pulled a pad and pen out of her apron.

 

“Three hot chocolates please,” I answered. “Two of your jumbo chocolate chip cookies and…” I stared over at the glass cabinet behind the counter. “I will have a slice of that cheesecake over there.”

 

“I’ll be back shortly,” she smiled and hustled away.

 

“Wow,” Brad snickered. “She’s hot.”

 

I smirked. “Hot huh?” I recognized her as Elaine Bernhard. She was studying to be an ultrasound technician, if I wasn’t mistaken.

 

Brad nodded. “I’m a teenager now Mr. Harrison.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I need to find myself a girlfriend,” he continued.

 

I laughed. “You need to worry about getting good grades in school. Then all the girls will come flocking to you.”

 

“Because I get good grades?” Brad scoffed. “Man, you’ve been outta school a while.”

 

“That’s true,” I confessed. “Are you saying that I’m not, what’s the word, ‘hip’?”

 

Brad laughed. “You’re hip in my book.”

 

“Why thank you,” I replied. Turning to Kevin I said, “What about you young man?”

 

“Him?” Brad cut in. “He’s only ten and still thinks girls are yucky.”

 

“That’s okay,” I said. “There will be plenty of time for that later on.”

 

Just then the waitress came back with our order. As she laid the snacks down, Brad spoke up. “So,” he said, giving me a quick wink. “How are you this fine day?”

 

She looked at Brad quizzically and said, “Just fine. How ‘bout yourself?”

 

“Good,” he answered, spying her nametag. “Thank for asking Elaine.”

 

“Anyhow,” I cut in. “It’s pretty dead in here this afternoon,” I said taking a quick peek around. Other than ourselves, there was only a long haired, bearded man sitting at one of the stools across from us. I recognized him as Harry Meadows, an avid motorcyclist that lived on the outskirts of town.

 

“Oh yeah,” Elaine said, looking over at me. “Everybody is probably over at Smith’s Market buying bread and milk in preparation for the big storm heading our way.”

 

“I can’t wait!” Kevin said. “It’s gonna be so cool!”

 

I made a mental note to hit the store after I dropped the boys off at home. If what they said was true, it was going to be the storm of the century. “It’s supposed to hit about this time tomorrow,” I added.

 

“Yep,” Elaine replied. “As a matter of fact, Mrs. Lovell already told us that we aren’t even going to attempt to open tomorrow at all. She said to just stay home and be safe.”

 

“I think that was very wise of her,” I concurred.

 

“Enjoy,” she said and turned to refill the other gentleman’s coffee.

 

Brad continued to gawk after Elaine long after she left. “So hot.”

 

“Do you like any of the girls at school?” I asked.

 

“Not really,” Brad answered, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. “I mean, some are okay but they’re not, I dunno…”

 

“He means none of them are interested in him!” Kevin piped up.

 

“That’s not true!” Brad defended. “I’m just very picky.”

 

“Sure” Kevin smiled. “That’s it – picky.”

 

I smiled as I listened to the brothers banter back and forth. I was an only child and growing up I would have given anything to have a sibling to argue with. With Sarah gone and no kids or grandkids to speak of, I really did feel like I was all alone in the world.

 

That’s one of the reasons why I hadn’t sold my house and moved out to sunny California. Parker Hills was my home. All of my memories, good and bad, lingered here. The people of this town were the closest thing that I have to family and I wasn’t ready to give them up just yet.

 

Midway through enjoying our dessert, I happened to take a peek outside my window and spotted a tiny snow flurry swaying along with the breeze. It went left, then right and then finally settled right onto my window. Looking up, I saw dozens of other flurries darting down from an increasingly darkening sky. The storm had arrived…a day early.

 
BOOK: FROSTBITE
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