Ice Storm (17 page)

“Soph, is that you? It’s me, Alice!”

Alice could hear shrieking on the other end of the line. “Soph?”

Then it was
Tante
Evie. “Alice, Alice, are you all right?”

“Of course,
Tante
Evie. Well, sort of. I don’t want to be here at the shelter, I want to be with you!” Alice just blurted it out.

Then it was Uncle Henri.
“Ma petite,
where are you? Your dad is so worried!”

“I’m at Place Ville-Marie. I was at the Eaton Centre, but the ice kept falling and it was so scary. Uncle Henri, soldiers came to my house! They made me and Mrs. Hartley leave even though I didn’t want to because Dad wouldn’t be able to find me, but they made us because Mrs. Hartley was old and sick and hurt from where I pulled her out of her house after the tree fell on it!” Alice stopped to catch her breath. “You say my dad is worried – you’ve talked to him? Is he okay? I’ve been so worried too!”

Uncle Henri was so relieved he laughed out loud. “We have all been worried,
ma petite,
but everything is fine now,
c’est vrai?
I will call your dad and tell him where you are. Now here is Sophie. Please, talk to her before she explodes!”

Sophie grabbed the phone. “Alice, we were crazy with worry! When the bridges closed, we thought you were with your dad and he thought you were with us, so when he called we all just about went nuts!”

Just hearing Soph’s voice made Alice feel warm inside. “I have so much to tell you,” she said.

“Me too,” replied Sophie. “You have to get here to the farm. You have to, right away. Papa won’t let me talk any longer because he wants to call your dad.
Come right now!”

Alice couldn’t talk any longer either, because the guy behind her in line was starting to tap his watch. It didn’t matter, Alice felt so good. Why hadn’t she thought of the phone before? And now she had something useful to do with her day. Alice handed the phone to the impatient man behind her and marched back down to the end of the line. She would stand in line for another turn to call Sophie. Then another, and another, until she could leave the shelter. Now,
that
was being productive.

It wasn’t so bad, waiting in line. Alice had never understood it when she heard about people waiting all night to get concert tickets and stuff but now she did. It was the goal that counted. It made the waiting almost pleasant, knowing that at the end you would get exactly what you wanted. And what she wanted was to talk to her family.

Three lines later, Alice had told Sophie about Mrs. Hartley and the tree and the pills and the muffins. Sophie had told Alice about the generator and the Mennonites and the sugar bush and Sébastien’s chart. Next call, Alice was going to talk about the
Lotto-Douche.
But just as she reached the head of the line, Alice stopped in her tracks when she heard a familiar voice. She whirled around.

“Daddy!” she cried, running to the entrance and throwing herself into his arms. They held on to each other as if they never wanted to let go.

“I was so worried,” Dad whispered into her hair. “I couldn’t find you!”

“Oh, Daddy, I’ve been just fine. You didn’t have to worry about me,” replied Alice. “But what about you? I was worried too! Are you okay? Did you get my note?”

“What note?” said Dad as they found a couple of chairs. “There wasn’t a note. All this time I thought you were at the farm, having fun with Sophie. And I finally got to a live phone last night and called to talk to you because I missed you, and that’s when I found out you weren’t there. I just about went mad and raced home and there was no note. Alice, that’s our rule! Our special rule so we never lose each other!”

Alice hugged her Dad as tight as she could. She had never doubted that he loved her, but she’d never been so sure as she was today.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” said Alice. “I did leave a note. I know that’s our rule. Didn’t you find it?”

That’s when Dad had to tell about the vandals. No
tv
, no computer. No note. Alice was sad, but not as much as she thought she’d be. Saskia had lost her whole house. Mrs. Hartley lost her roof. Sophie lost her cows. Alice felt saddest for her house, left
abandoned so anything could happen to it, as if nobody cared. That was assuming a house had feelings, which was utterly ridiculous. But Alice couldn’t shake the thought.

“You’re safe and that’s all that matters. And I’m taking you to the farm myself – so I’ll know for sure you’re there, safe and sound!”

To the farm, hurray! “Right now? Should I get my stuff?” Of all the things that she’d thought might happen today, going to the farm had not been on the list.

“Sorry, Princess, not yet,” replied Dad. Alice frowned. “The bridges are still closed. As a matter of fact, they’re asking for volunteers to knock the ice off the bridges so that traffic can start to move. I’m volunteering. Then I’m coming straight here to take you to the farm.”

Alice was quiet. “Is it dangerous?” she asked in a small voice.

“No more dangerous than anything else, Princess. Who will take care of you if I get reckless on a bridge?” Dad laughed. Alice didn’t. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
More promises,
thought Alice.

She hated to see her dad go, but he was determined to get the job done and come back for her. After another tight hug, he was off. Alice went to take her place at the end of the phone line. She had to tell Sophie their plans.

Day Eight

Monday, January 12, 1998

“W
hat’s the hurry, girl?”

Alice stopped short. She’d wanted to say goodbye to Mrs. Hartley, but now she wondered. Could she leave her? Should she?

“My dad’s ready to go. He’s taking me to my cousins’ farm.”

“About time, too,” huffed Mrs. Hartley. “Leaving his own daughter to fend for herself in an emergency. Hmmph. He needs to take better care of you.”

“He takes care of me just fine,” Alice shot back indignantly. “We take care of each other. And it’s a good thing he didn’t take me away before, because you’d still be stuck under a tree!”

Mrs. Hartley grinned, which looked a little evil since she didn’t have her false teeth in. “That’s the spirit, girl. Fight back!”

Alice was confused. Mrs. Hartley was like two different people in one wrinkled bag of skin. Sometimes she was nice and sometimes she went back to being the Tickle Lady, nails or no nails.

“Mrs. Hartley, I want you to come with me. Aunt Evie can look after you, and I know she wouldn’t mind. They don’t have power, but they’ve got a wood stove to keep us warm and cook food and stuff. Nobody would steal your medicine there. It would be way better than this place.”

Mrs. Hartley gave Alice a hard look. “You’ve done enough looking after me, girl,” she said brusquely. “I don’t like to be beholden. Go on, go to your cousins. I’m fine here, don’t you worry about me.” Mrs. Hartley
rolled over on her side. She didn’t say goodbye.

Alice sighed and picked up her stuff. That was one weird old lady. The craziest part was that Alice was actually starting to like her. She headed off to find Rachel. They’d promised to exchange phone numbers to stay in touch, assuming anybody ever had phone service again. Then Alice was ready.

“Is the car downstairs?” she asked her Dad as they rode down the elevator.

“No,” replied Dad. “We’re taking this.” Alice started to laugh. Parked outside on St. Catherine Street was Dad’s big hydro truck. “Now that’s transportation!” she laughed.

“It’s the safest thing,” said Dad. “I’ve arranged to work in the Triangle of Darkness for the next couple of days. That’s why I’m allowed to take the truck down there.”

“What’s the Triangle of Darkness?” asked Alice curiously.

“It’s the area around the farm. It’s like a war zone down there, Princess. And I’m afraid they won’t get power back for weeks.”

Driving across the bridge to the South Shore was like traveling from darkness into light. It sure didn’t look like a “Triangle of Darkness” to Alice, at least not in the daytime. The other side of the bridge was like a fairyland. Every house, every tree, every pole, every mailbox and every car was coated in ice. The sun sparkled on the ice, making the whole world intensely beautiful, full of diamonds and crystals. Strange ice sculptures sat in people’s yards. Alice and Dad made a game of guessing what was under them. That one was a bicycle, that one a birdbath.

But under the shimmering ice also lay the twisted and shattered corpses of homes, animals and the power grid. It was a cruel fairyland.

Alice had to remind herself that the sparkling ice was killing people. It was killing animals and making people sick. It was closing schools and burning down houses. How could it do that when it was so very beautiful? Alice felt very confused, and not just about the ice storm.

“Dad, I’ve been thinking,” she began.

“That sounds serious,” teased Dad.

Alice nodded solemnly. “It is.”

Dad took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready. Lay it on me, Princess.”

“I don’t want to skate competitively any more.”

The words dropped like stones into a pond. They were heavy. Alice could see that Dad was thinking about how their lives would change if she didn’t compete any more. After all, every single thing they did was organized around her skating.

Finally Dad said something. “But you have so much talent. Do you really want to throw it away?”

“No, I love skating more than anything,” said Alice quietly.

“Well, now I’m confused.” Dad sounded a little frustrated. “Do you want to skate or don’t you?”

“I want to
skate.
I don’t want to compete,” replied Alice. “I know you’re my biggest fan, Dad, but even you have to admit that I’m a lousy competitor. I get so upset before I go on that I throw up. Then I fall apart. I mop the ice on almost every jump, jumps I’ve done a million times in practice. You know what’s it’s like!”

Dad said nothing.

Alice was getting revved up. “And I’m so tired of all the
tv
announcers talking about my ‘potential’ and how I’m not living up to it. About how my ‘career’ is such a disappointment. I’m twelve, Dad, I’m too young to have a career!” Mrs. Hartley’s words echoed in Alice’s head.

Dad still said nothing.

“And what I really, really hate is that I don’t have any friends. I don’t have time to make any. And even if I had some, I don’t have time to do anything with them. I can’t go to their house after school or join the track team with them. I can’t go to the mall and hang out. By the time I get home from practice, it’s too late to even call anybody. Daddy,” pleaded Alice. “I want to have some friends!”

Dad lifted his eyebrows. “One of the reasons your mom and I put you in skating was so that you
wouldn’t
have time to hang out,” he said mildly.

“Well, it’s not like I want to make a career of that either. It would just be nice to do it sometimes.”

Dad was quiet for a whole lot of kilometres. Finally he sighed. “So you want to quit?”

“No, not really,” replied Alice. “I thought I did at first. Competitive figure skating is kind of all or nothing. But then I was talking to Mrs. Hartley and she said that when you’re twelve, nothing is all or nothing. Everything is possible. So I started to think about how I could skate some of the time, just not compete.”

“And what did you figure out?”

“Well,” Alice took a deep breath, “I was thinking I could coach.” She hurried to explain. “Not like a real pro or anything, but like a helper. I could work with the little kids on Saturday afternoon. Teach them how much fun skating can be. And teach them right, so they get good edges and control, so they build their strength up properly, like I was taught. That way I could still skate, sort of, but only on Saturday afternoons. And...” Alice took a deep breath. “If Mr. Osborne says I can, I’m going to ask him if I can keep doing one freeskate a week. Just for exercise, of course. Just so I don’t forget.”

Dad went quiet again. It didn’t really matter what he said now. She’d told him, and that was the main thing. And it felt good. Really good. Alice waited.

A few more kilometres went by. Dad looked at Alice sideways for a second.