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The Blizzard Before Christmas
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Part Two
“Hello Miranda,” Margaret was at the elevators. The gray tabby winked and kept walking out of sight. After six months they were on greeting terms. When she stepped out in the lobby there was a small crowd gathered, “What's going on?”
Donny was clutching his hat to his head, “He's not gonna make it, he's not gonna make it!”
“Helloo! Margaret! Where are you off to? It's nearly dinner time!” John was still sitting, not at all phased by the commotion. Beyond the plate glass window, in the swirling snow was a small brown car spinning it's tires trying to make it up the circular drive.
“Going out after cigarettes and tea bags. Need anything?”
Marie, who was power walking the hallways stopped, “Can you get me a green tea?”
Margaret hit the auto door bar. “Sure. I'll be back in a few.”
“If you're not back in an hour I'll send out the dogs!” John called after her.
Twenty minutes later Margaret wiped the snow away from the side window of Dave's car. No Dave. The little brown heap was parked nose into the bushes under the community room windows. “It's amazing they still let him drive,” she laughed. Stomping and shaking off the snow, she poked her head into the community room. She left the green tea with Marie and went back to the elevators. Aside from Marie, who was watching the TV, no one was about. The elevator smelled of smoke which meant the card game was on up on 7. As she let herself into her apartment Margaret was pretty sure she could hear Dave shouting Bob Dylan lyrics.
By 9 pm the storm had spun completely around and was a true Nor'easter. Sometime after midnight the cap on the ventilation shaft blew off the roof, allowing 40 mph gusts to blow through the bathrooms, kicking on the heat, causing the revelers on 7 and 3 to open their windows. Shortly before dawn a pipe burst on 2, setting of the alarms. At 5 am Saturday morning Margaret removed the pillow from her head and screamed “What The Fuck!” at the ceiling.
“Hello Miranda,” Margaret was at the elevators. The gray tabby winked and kept walking out of sight. After six months they were on greeting terms. When she stepped out in the lobby there was a small crowd gathered, “What's going on?”
Donny was clutching his hat to his head, “He's not gonna make it, he's not gonna make it!”
“Helloo! Margaret! Where are you off to? It's nearly dinner time!” John was still sitting, not at all phased by the commotion. Beyond the plate glass window, in the swirling snow was a small brown car spinning it's tires trying to make it up the circular drive.
“Going out after cigarettes and tea bags. Need anything?”
Marie, who was power walking the hallways stopped, “Can you get me a green tea?”
Margaret hit the auto door bar. “Sure. I'll be back in a few.”
“If you're not back in an hour I'll send out the dogs!” John called after her.
Twenty minutes later Margaret wiped the snow away from the side window of Dave's car. No Dave. The little brown heap was parked nose into the bushes under the community room windows. “It's amazing they still let him drive,” she laughed. Stomping and shaking off the snow, she poked her head into the community room. She left the green tea with Marie and went back to the elevators. Aside from Marie, who was watching the TV, no one was about. The elevator smelled of smoke which meant the card game was on up on 7. As she let herself into her apartment Margaret was pretty sure she could hear Dave shouting Bob Dylan lyrics.
By 9 pm the storm had spun completely around and was a true Nor'easter. Sometime after midnight the cap on the ventilation shaft blew off the roof, allowing 40 mph gusts to blow through the bathrooms, kicking on the heat, causing the revelers on 7 and 3 to open their windows. Shortly before dawn a pipe burst on 2, setting of the alarms. At 5 am Saturday morning Margaret removed the pillow from her head and screamed “What The Fuck!” at the ceiling.
Part One
It started in the early evening on the Friday before Christmas. The day started cold, by 2 the wind had picked up and by 4 the world was swirling white Snow had been forecast for Saturday and Sunday so the day'd been pretty busy. Shuttles to the grocery, deliveries from the pharmacy, MealsOnWheels weekend packs dropped and for a lucky few, family taking them for the holiday week.. The tenants of the Elderly/Disabled Building at Mountain View collectively held their breath waiting for the Building Manager and the Maintenance Staff to clock out and head home for the weekend.
Shelly was on the third floor checking fire doors and locking windows. “Shell, you there?”, Dean on the radio. “Third floor Dean.” “OK, I'll meet you on Four.” In her early thirties now, Shelly'd been managing the building for ten years now. Dean had started around the same time and was now the head of Maintenance. This was the Friday routine. Shelly would start on one and Dean on eight, checking doors and windows, supply closets, and any of the tenants at risk. Meeting in the middle they'd go over any problems then head down to lock up the office and maintenance room. Typically Fridays were easy and Mondays were hell. Today she sensed the anticipation was more quiet than usual. “Probably not a good thing.” she told Dean as they were locking up. “Forty old and disabled people snowbound just before Christmas” she shook her head. “Should make for some hysterical Monday viewing though” Kenny laughed. He was checking the alarm and surveillance systems. Each apartment had two emergency cords, each floor had two fire alarm boxes, and every hallway and staircase had surveillance cameras. Standing in the lobby bundling up they glanced at the three men sitting there. John, Bill and Donny. Quietly looking out at the sky. It was 3 pm and the clouds were rolling in.