Ice Storm (18 page)

“Princess, you’ve told me what you don’t like about skating. I need to know what you do like about it.”

That was easy. “I love how fast I can go and I love the power I feel in my legs when I do back crosscuts. I love the solid feeling you get when you land a jump and you’re perfectly centered. I love to skate when nobody’s watching, when I’m doing it just for me.

“And I love it because Mom loved it.”

Dad nodded his head. “I thought as much,” he said softly.

They were nearing Saint-Hyacinthe. Alice recognized the farms on the outskirts. Dead animals were piled in fields. Alice couldn’t help but catch her breath. Her dad was looking at the twisted hydro pylons along the highway. The landscape wasn’t pretty any more. Maybe Sébastien’s
loup-garou
had come to town, waged war and transformed the South Shore into a battlefield.

“Alice, we’re nearly there. You don’t have to skate if you don’t want. So don’t worry. But you’ve given me a lot to think about, so can we finish the talk later?”

Alice nodded. “Of course, Dad, there’s other stuff to think about right now, I know that. But Dad?” Dad glanced over at her. “Thanks for listening. We don’t have to decide anything right now, but I feel a lot better now that you know.”

Dad smiled at her. “We’re a team, Princess.”

Alice gave a small smile. “You don’t have to call me Princess any more, Daddy.”

Dad raised his eyebrows. “I thought you liked it,” he said. “When you were little you kept looking for your crown.”

Alice’s smile turned into a grin. “So you made me one out of tinfoil! I remember. But Daddy,” said Alice earnestly, “I’m not little any more.”

Dad looked sideways at her. “So, you’re all grown up now?”

“Well, mostly.”

Dad snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

Dad turned into the lane that led to the farm. Alice looked around, wide-eyed. The little shelter Uncle Henri had built for the kids at the school bus stop was crushed to kindling. The lovely poplar trees that lined the lane were bent so low you could see over them, opening up the landscape. Alice could see for miles, she could even see the silos from the road. Dad rounded a corner and the house came into view.

Alice loved the house. Uncle Henri’s grandfather had built it himself. It was white clapboard with forest green shutters. It looked like it had weathered the storm just fine except for all the icicles hanging from the roof, and there was a comforting trail of smoke coming from the stovepipe over the kitchen. But it looked empty.

Dad parked the car. He and Alice slipped and slid over the icy drive and pushed open the kitchen door. “Anybody home?” yelled Alice. “We’re here!”

There was no answer. Alice went to the mudroom and found her hook. She had a hook and a set of barn clothes of her very own. She was very proud of them. It meant she belonged.

“They’re probably in the milking parlour,” said Alice. “I’ve got my own clothes, but Dad, here are some of Uncle Henri’s. You can borrow them. He won’t mind.” They pulled on the barn clothes and headed out the back door. The noise was terrible as they got closer to the barn. “That doesn’t sound good,” said Alice in a worried tone. “The cows aren’t supposed to be bawling like that!”

“Alice! Alice!” Sophie came running out of the barn. “You made it!”

Alice hugged her. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “I’ve never heard that noise before!”

“It wasn’t, but it is now,” said Sophie. “We just got a generator from the army. The cows are desperate. Come on, we can’t stop. We have to help. Hurry!” Sophie grabbed Alice’s hand and pulled her towards the barn. Dad followed behind. The grown-ups exchanged smiles and waves but they couldn’t stop working. The cows needed them. Alice helped Sophie hose down the cows and clean the teats, and Dad did his best to help Sébastien with the water pump and the alley scraper. Luckily Dad wasn’t too worried about getting ordered around by a nine-year-old, because Sébastien just couldn’t help himself.

Compared to regular milking, the process took a long time. Compared to ice storm milking, it was a dream come true. The generator was theirs alone. They didn’t have to share. They could get all the chores done in the proper order and nobody cared how long it took. But finally, finally the cows were happy. They were fed, they were watered, they were milked and the whole family felt like cheering except they were too tired.

As they trooped back to the house, Sophie’s mother said, “Showers for everybody! Before you collapse!” Sébastien drew up a schedule, putting himself last. “It’s been kind of nice not having to take baths,” he admitted to his uncle. “Maybe the hot water will be gone before it’s my turn.”

It felt so good to be clean. Alice hadn’t showered for six days, Dad for seven. Her aunt heated up one of her delicious casseroles in the wood stove and they sat together for a family supper. There were tired grins on everybody’s faces.

“How long can you stay, Pierre?” asked Uncle Henri.

“I can stay the night. I’m working nearby for a couple of days, then going back to Montréal. I told Hydro I had to get Alice to safety before I did anything else. Thanks so much for taking care of her.”

“C’est rien,”
replied Uncle Henri. “You are both family.”

“Uncle Pete,” asked Sébastien, “they say we won’t get power back for weeks. That can’t be true, can it?”

“It is, I’m afraid,” sighed Alice’s dad. “Here’s the problem. Some years ago Hydro-Québec built three major dams in James Bay. Most of our power comes from those dams.”

“James Bay is a long way away,” mused Sébastien.

“Yes, Sébastien. So how do you get all the power that Montréal needs from such a long way away? They had to design special high voltage lines that could carry more power than any line had ever carried before. These lines carry so much power that you don’t need as many of them.”

Everybody was nodding. That made sense. Alice’s dad went on. “That means there are only five power lines feeding Montréal. By Friday, four of them had collapsed. There is only one line left to power the whole city.”

“Whoa. Good thing that one didn’t go!” said Sébastien.

“It’s more than that,” said Alice’s dad seriously. “If we lose that last line, the whole city will have to be evacuated. Shut down completely. Not only does that create the problem of where to put three million homeless people, but it would take months to get the power grid operational again. Every service, like water and sewage and communications would shut down and when power came back, it would take ages to bring all the services back online, one by one. The whole economy would grind to a halt. Just think – three million people who aren’t working, studying or shopping. All the businesses would close, all the schools would close and all the stores would close. Nobody would have a job. All of Canada does business with Montréal, but there would be nobody in Montréal to do any business. It’s impossible to even imagine, but it nearly happened. And we’re not out of the woods yet. It still could.”

There was silence around the table. They had been listening to bad news for a week, but nothing this bad.

“That’s why the five power lines to Montréal have to be Hydro’s top priority. The grid can still fail. We can’t let it. It’s not that the farmers aren’t important, but the safety of the grid affects everybody. That’s why I have to get back to the main work in Montréal. I’m sorry, but your
‘Triangle Noir’
will have to stay black for a while longer,” said Alice’s dad.

Sophie patted his hand. “It’s not your fault, Uncle Pete. We know you’re working as hard as you can. Anyway, we’ve got a generator now!”

“Hurray!” they all shouted. Alice’s dad smiled wearily. It wasn’t too much longer before Maman called bedtime. None of them had slept well for a week, since the ice storm started. Tonight everything was changed. Alice was safe, the cows were safe and the grid was safe, at least for tonight.

Sophie pulled out the trundle bed in her room and got out the comforter. She looked at it critically then pushed the trundle back under the bed. “Climb in with me,” she said to Alice. “We’ll stay warmer.”

As Alice drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t have felt happier.

Six Weeks Later

A
lice came off her warm-up.
Mr. Osborne was glowering. He always glowered just before a competition. He frowned at the judges, sneered at the audience, and was grumpy with his students. As he made his way to Alice, a small smile tugged at her lip. It was time for Mr. Osborne’s famous “Don’t forget” speech.

“Now, Alice,” he began. “Are your laces tucked in? Underwear showing? Any hairpins loose?”

“All good, Mr. O,” replied Alice.

“Don’t forget to keep your head up. No spaghetti arms! If the double lutz goes badly –
it doesn’t matter!
Keep going. Don’t hold your breath when you prepare to jump. Don’t frown at me young lady, you know you hold your breath! Don’t forget to smile. And remember to have
fun!”

Remember to have fun. Mr. Osborne said it before every competition and that was when Alice generally threw up.

Mr. Osborne had been curiously silent when she told him this was to be her last competition. Finally, he said, “I’m not giving up on you, Alice. Take a year off from competition, sure, but keep skating as much as you want. Work with the beginners on Saturdays, if it pleases you. See how you feel next year.”

Then Mr. Osborne and her dad had talked for a long time. Neither one of them seemed mad, which Alice thought was a little strange. Especially after all the worrying she’d done about what they would say, about how their lives would all change.

So today she felt different. It wasn’t just that her skating schedule was going to change. The ice storm had changed her too. Before the ice storm, skating was her whole life. During the storm, just surviving became way more important. And after the storm, well, Alice wasn’t sure what was most important any more. Rescuing the power grid was important. It had taken thirty-three whole days, but Dad, Hydro-Québec and the linemen that came from six provinces and eight states had done it. Saving the cows was important. After Uncle Henri got the generator, not one more cow died. Other things were not quite so important. She did know that today, it didn’t feel like the whole world would end if she skated badly.

Sophie was squirming on the cold arena seat. This was always the hardest moment for her, that moment when Alice was about to go on. She looked so beautiful in her sparkly costume, standing at the boards talking to her coach. Sophie reached out and grabbed Maman’s hand. Maman smiled reassuringly. Papa and Uncle Pete were talking. They both looked serious. Sébastien wasn’t even paying attention to Alice. He was gazing wide-eyed at Guillaume. Sébastien had heard many stories about Guillaume the taxi driver from Alice, but she’d never told him that Guillaume knew a lot of stories about the
loup-garou.
Sébastien was mesmerized.

At the end of the row sat the Tickle Lady. Uncle Pete had collected her from the nursing home where she was staying while her roof was being repaired. Mrs. Hartley said she intended to move back next door as soon as her house could be lived in again, but that was going to take a while. So many houses needed repairs. Sophie could sure see why Alice had been terrified of her. Mrs. Hartley was fierce.

Even Alice’s new friend Rachel had come with her mom. Sophie hoped having so many people there to cheer her on wouldn’t freak Alice out too much. Maman had a box of Kleenex in her bag just in case.

It was time. Alice skated to her opening position and the crowd went quiet. The music began. Alice closed her eyes for a brief moment, took a deep breath and began to move.

The ice felt like it was a part of her. It was where she belonged. She barely noticed the first double-lutz, double-toe jump combination because she was flying. Alice landed so softly that she felt like the ice was cushioning her. She didn’t hear the cheers of the crowd. Instead she felt the power in her thighs as she stroked hard into the double axel. She couldn’t wait to lift into the air; she knew her landing would be perfect. Her footwork made her feel light as a feather and her corkscrew spin was so centered she nearly drilled a hole into the ice. Alice didn’t want her solo to end. She felt just like she did in her very best practice sessions. Alice poured everything she was feeling into her final spin, threw her arms into a “V” of victory, then raised her face to the crowd. It was only when the music ended that she could hear them cheering.