Ice Storm (3 page)

“She’s strong,” smiled Papa. “And determined!”

“Does she have a name?” Sophie asked, stroking the calf’s soft nose.

“I was waiting for you,” replied Papa.

“Mélisande,” breathed Sophie. “It means strong and independent; I looked it up.”

“Mélisande it is,” agreed Papa. “She’s nursing well and ready for her second feed of colostrum. Interested?” Papa smiled his slow smile. Sophie didn’t even need to answer, just reached for the bottle of special milk that Papa had ready. “Colostrum” was the name for the milk a mother cow gave right after the birth of a calf. It was full of special nutrients that were important for baby calves to grow and stay healthy, so all farmers made sure that newborn calves got enough of it. Papa made a note in his book. “M-é-L-I-S-A-N-D-E,” he murmured to himself as he created an entry for the newest member of their herd.

When the bottle was empty, Sophie and Papa left Adalie and Mélisande together in the maternity pen. Adalie would soon have to go back to the regular barn and Mélisande into a special calf pen, but for now mother and daughter could stay together. After the warmth created by the cows in the pen, the weather outside felt truly ferocious. Not only was the icy rain still falling, but a nasty wind had blown up too. Stinging pellets burned Sophie’s face as she and Papa hurried to the kitchen. They were both soaked by the time they got there.

“Baths, both of you! You first, Sophie,” commanded Maman. “Only way to get you warm –
marchez!”
She marched.

|||||

Alice was worried.
Dad was never late. But it was pretty easy to guess why. The lights in the arena had flashed off several times during practice. She could hear sirens all over the place, which meant the driving was even worse. Either Dad was stuck in traffic or he had been kept late by the power company to repair downed power lines. Their rule was that if he was delayed she had to first try to reach him by cell phone. That was usually pretty hard, as he might be up at the top of a power pole. So Alice was supposed to leave a message, then wait no more than an hour. After an hour she had to call the taxi company to take her home and leave another message to tell him where she’d gone. Almost an hour had gone by, but tonight Mr. Osborne stayed with her. He was worried.

“If your dad doesn’t come soon, you’re coming home with me,” he told her. “This storm has a bad feel. I don’t want you alone in your house.”

“It’s okay, Mr. O,” said Alice earnestly. “I’m not afraid to be by myself.”

“Well, I can wait a few more minutes,” said Mr. Osborne.

And a few more minutes was all it took before Alice saw her dad inch his way into the icy parking lot. He shook hands with Mr. Osborne.

“Thanks for staying,” said Dad.

“No problem,” smiled Mr. Osborne. “We’ve got to keep our Princess safe, don’t we?” Alice gave him a smile, but inwardly rolled her eyes at the nickname.
Alice, the oh-so-famous Ice Princess.
“I’ve cancelled tomorrow morning’s practice. Even if it stops raining, the roads will be icy. By afternoon, the world should have melted.”

“I was going to suggest the same thing,” said Dad. “Power is out all over the place. A lot of alarm clocks won’t ring tomorrow.” The two men laughed.

Alice climbed into the car and soaked up the delicious heat coming from the seat. She stayed quiet so Dad could concentrate on his driving. He was nearly as good as Guillaume, if not so fast, so they made it home safe and sound.

Alice dropped her bag in the mudroom and turned to her dad.

“What do you want for dinner, Dad?”

“I’m sorry, Princess, but I have to leave. Like I said to Mr. O, power is down all over the city. The ice is starting to accumulate on the wires and it’s getting really heavy. A lot of folks are going to get pretty cold tonight if we can’t get the lines back up. The power company needs everybody, and we might have to work through the night. Will you be all right?”

“Oh, Dad,” sighed Alice. “Do you have to?”

“I have to. You don’t want people to freeze to death, do you?”
As if that was going to happen,
thought Alice.
It’s just a little freezing rain.

Dad gave her a quick hug, then bustled about getting his foul weather gear ready for a long, cold night outside. Alice turned on the coffeemaker to brew some coffee for his thermos, and while she waited, switched on the television.

Hydro-Québec is reporting limited power outages throughout the city of Montréal as a result of today’s freezing rain. Broken trees and branches have fallen on power lines, bringing them to the ground and causing blackouts. Hydro crews will work through the night. Power should be restored to all areas by morning. The rain is expected to stop by noon tomorrow.

|||||

Alice sighed again,
then filled Dad’s thermos.

At the door, Dad stopped. “Maybe you should go stay with one of the neighbours. Maybe Mrs. Hartley next door?” he said in a worried tone. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”

“No!” Alice practically shouted.
Not Mrs. Hartley!
“I’ll be fine, Dad. You’ve left me lots of times. I’ll put my cell phone by my bed in case you call. And I’ll go to Mrs. Hartley’s if things get really bad. I promise.” Alice crossed her fingers behind her back so she wouldn’t have to keep that promise. She absolutely would not go to Mrs. Hartley’s for any reason, but no need for Dad to w
o
rry.

“That’s my beautiful Princess,” smiled Dad. He gave her a hug and went out into the storm. Alice stood on the porch to wave goodbye. He’d probably be home in a couple of hours. Then she went back inside to begin the Alone Routine. After Mom died, Dad had looked for a regular babysitter, but Alice was at the rink so much they couldn’t find anybody willing to work her complicated schedule. So that’s when Dad got her a cell phone and taught her the Alone Routine:

Lock front and back door

Check that garage door is down

Check that all windows are shut and locked (in summer, check screens)

Put cell phone in pocket (cell phone only to be used in emergencies to talk to Dad, all other calls on regular phone or ALICE PAYS BILL!!)

Put flashlight on kitchen table

Alice had added a few of her own ideas to Dad’s routine.

Check in every cupboard and under every bed for bad or scary things

Turn all lights on in basement

Microwave a bag of popcorn

Call Sophie

Dad had found out about the long distance calls to Sophie because they were listed on the telephone bill. He didn’t get mad. Instead he got a long distance phone plan and said she could call Soph whenever she wanted as long as the calls weren’t on her cell phone. Dad was pretty cool.

Alice did everything on the list, put the popcorn in the microwave, then pulled the phone out to call Sophie. But she didn’t punch in a single number.

Instead, Alice burst into tears.

The competition was so close. She was going to blow it – again. Alice ran upstairs to her bedroom and threw herself on her bed. Clutching Juniper, her ratty old green teddy, she cried into his plush fur until he was soaked. Then she threw him across the room. That made her stop crying. It wasn’t Juniper’s fault her nerves were making her feel like throwing up. She got up from the bed and picked up the soggy bear.

The popcorn was still in the microwave. It was cold. Alice punched in Sophie’s number.

“Allo?”

“Bon soir, Tante Evie.
May I please speak to Sophie?”

“What’s wrong?” demanded her aunt.

“What do you mean?” spluttered Alice. “Nothing’s wrong!”

“You’ve been crying,
ma petite.
Where’s your dad?”

“He’s at work,” replied Alice, a little sullenly. She wanted to talk to Sophie, not her aunt.

“That’s it, then,” said Aunt Evie firmly. “You’re lonely. I’ll get Sophie.” Alice heaved a sigh of relief. Sometimes Aunt Evie could get her to talk about stuff she didn’t want to talk about. Like how she hated competing. Nobody but Sophie could know that.

“Alice, the calf is born and she’s beautiful! I named her Mélisande and I’ve already fed her with a bottle!” Sophie’s words came out in a rush. Alice had forgotten about the calf.

“Tell me about her,” said Alice, in a weary voice.

“No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Same old, same old, Soph. You know. I can’t stop thinking about the competition when I’m alone. And because of the stupid storm, Dad has to go fix the power lines. And to make matters worse, he nearly made me go to the Tickle Lady’s house!”

“Why don’t you like Mrs. Hartley?” asked Sophie curiously.

“Because she...well, she’s really...” Alice hesitated. “Because nobody likes her,” she finally said tentatively.

“But why?” persisted Sophie.

Alice sighed. “The kids in the neighbourhood used to play shinny in the street. She always yelled at them for making too much noise. Then one day this kid really roofed it, the ball went over the net and through her window. She came running out like a crazy lady. The kids went nuts, ’cause it turns out she has these incredibly long fingernails, like four inches or something. She chased after the kids waving these claws in the air, and the story got out that if she caught you she would take you inside her house and tickle you until her nails scratched you to death.” When spoken aloud, the story sounded lame even to Alice.

Sophie burst out laughing. “That means you should go over there and see if it’s true. Then you can tell everybody that you are
très courageuse
and they will make you their hero!”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Alice quietly. “I don’t have time to play shinny. I don’t even see the kids on the street any more. Sophie, tell me everything about Mélisande. Don’t leave anything out.”

The two girls settled in for a long talk. Neither noticed that the wind outside had picked up and the freezing rain was falling even harder.

Day Two

Tuesday, January 6, 1998

S
leepily, Alice reached over
to push the off
button of her alarm. How she hated that thing. It kept buzzing and buzzing. She rolled over, still with her eyes shut, and pushed the button a second time. The buzzing still wouldn’t stop. Alice opened her eyes. It wasn’t the alarm. It was her phone. She grabbed the cell from her bedside table.

“Daddy?” she asked.

“It’s me, Princess,” Dad replied. “How are you doing?”

Alice’s brain was starting to wake up. There was light coming through her window; it was morning already. That felt weird. She always got up in the dark. “What time is it?”

“It’s 7:30, sleepyhead. Practice is cancelled this morning, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Alice felt groggy from sleeping in.

“And it’s not the only thing that’s cancelled,” Dad went on. “School is closed as well. Montréal is a mess. Power lines are busted all over the place and there are lots of people with no electricity. The police want everybody to stay home until this blasted freezing rain stops.”

Alice switched on her bedside lamp. Nothing happened. “Daddy, our power is off too! Last night the television said it would be all over by this morning.”

“I know. It’s a little worse than we first thought. Look, here’s the plan. I’m going to work a few more hours, then I’m coming home for a bit of a sleep. After that I have to go back to work. I want you to get warm clothes on and stay put. Try not to open the refrigerator door too often, because we want the food to keep cold as long as possible. Did you put the flashlight on the kitchen table last night?”

“Yup,” Alice nodded into the phone.

“Good. There are some candles in the bottom kitchen drawer. Get them, some saucers and the matches. Melt the bottom of the candles a bit with the match flame, just enough so you can stick them up on the saucers so they won’t tip and start a fire if we have to light them. Next, go around the house and unplug everything you can think of – the
tv
, the computer, the coffee maker and the clocks. Then look in my top dresser drawer.”

“In your bedroom?” asked Alice.

“Yes. There’s an old-fashioned radio in there with a little windup handle. This is important, Princess. If you wind the handle, it powers up the radio. No electricity needed. You can tune it to a local station to hear what’s going on around town, even if the
tv
or the regular radio doesn’t work. Thank goodness for the good old days, eh?!” Alice rolled her eyes.