seymoure

“The Killing Freeze”

Just after Christmas (Oh God how Victor loved having eggnog just lying around in the fridge) was the event Victor would always remember as “The Killing Freeze.”

He had been through some dark times, lived though some hard places, but this was one of the worst set of days he could remember. Or vaguely remember, to be truthful about it.

Christmas had been excellent, with lots of sprouts cavorting and family and friends gathering. He loved living in a house so filled with love and family.

He actually imbibed just a bit too much nog laced with brandy one night, and it threw off his schedule for a couple of days.

Then it happened.

He awoke chilled to the very bone. It was hard to move. As things had gotten colder in the night, he hazily remembered going farther and tighter under his blankets, but there came the time when even that offered no warmth.

He was brought to consciousness as much by something not happening as happening. The garage door didn’t open at the regular time. When he peeked through the drop down door, there was no light in the garage.

He waited a long time and then went down.

Everything was frigid. He checked the ice box, and there was no light.

He then ventured into the silent house. No one was there. There was no heat, no light, no people.

When he looked out the plate glass doors at the rear of the house he suddenly understood.

The trees were glistening as though coated with diamonds. The ground was a sheet of glass. A mammoth ice storm had hit, and downed, undoubtedly, the electrical lines. Like most newer systems, the gas heat didn’t work without the electrical to regulate it.

Victor found himself shivering helplessly.

It was one thing to be cold, but this was more. He rushed into the bathroom and retrieved some tetracycline and a couple of other medications.

Then he gathered all the blankets he could find. If they found all this missing, they would have to think someone stole them or something. Without them he was sure he was going to die.

He had no idea how long the power had been out, but he knew that he was a cold as he had ever been. Even with those months on the street he had never been this god awful panicked by the
shivering. He couldn’t do simple things. He just hoped he could make it back into his perch before he fell apart.

He was barely able to do that. He didn’t take any pills. He didn’t eat anything. He was shaking so hard he couldn’t do anything but crawl under the pile of blankets and try to stop shaking.

He hoped they didn’t discover his body in the spring thaw.