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~0~0~0~ Jimmy slid open the overhead door on the loading
dock and was immediately hit by a spray of icy rain caught in a
sudden gust of cold wind.
He quickly shoved the door closed, shook his head and arms of the excess moisture, then paused
to glance out a window to figure out what was going on.
"Hey, guys," he yelled into the back of the work area.
"Has anyone checked outside lately?
It's looking bad out there." Yves appeared behind him, taking note of the
rat-tat-tatting of the freezing rain on the metal door and
shivering with the sudden drop in temperature for the short amount of
time that the door had remained open.
She had heard the reports earlier that a wintry mix of precipitation was expected
later that evening and was surprised by its apparent early
arrival. Checking her watch, she wove her way among the
shelving back towards the main entrance and made preparations to
leave. Curious as to what Jimmy had been yelling about,
Byers had turned on one of the televisions.
He found a local station announcing the winter storm warning for their area
along with a few reports of traffic tie-ups on the beltway.
"Yves, you shouldn't leave.
You'll never make it home." She continued to place her reports in her
briefcase. "I am a careful driver." "Yves, careful or not, that expensive car of
yours will find the bottom of the first ditch it comes
across," Frohike warned. "You
can't take that chance." "I can't stay here.
I have appointments to keep." Langly turned on the monitors that scanned the
alley where the vehicles were parked.
"Damn, they all iced over in less than an hour. That
storm moved in fast." He
sprinted over to one of the computers and logged onto the local
utility's site for an update. "Transformers
are popping all over Montgomery Counties.
It'll only be a matter of time before . . ." As if on cue, various monitors and lights
flickered and then faded, and the emergency lighting automatically
switched on. Equipment not already hooked up to the
uninterruptable power systems went dark.
While the others remained frozen in the semidarkness, Frohike stumbled towards an unlit
corner and opened an overhead cabinet, pulling out two
flashlights. Handing one to Jimmy, he motioned for the other to
follow. "You know the drill.
Let's get to the generators." The rest listened to the lone television as the
newscasters detailed the power outages and warnings of downed
electrical lines throughout the metropolitan area.
The Doppler radar was making predictions of a weather pattern settling
in over Maryland and Virginia for the next several hours,
of a dangerous mix of freezing rain and wind-chill
temperatures at or below zero.
"Sadly, I'm beginning to agree with the rest
of you. This does not look good."
Yves sighed, resigning herself to be cooped up with the misfits, charming though they
might be. "Is it too much to ask if there is enough
food in this place for all of us?" "We've been stockpiling since 1998, getting
ready for Y2K, and never broke the habit," Langly smirked.
"We've got heaps." Byers was more reassuring.
"Don't worry. Everything
is dated." ++++++++++++++ ~~ a few hours later ~~ Kimmy was standing off to one side of the room,
watching the others play cards at the dining table, providing a
running commentary and chiding them all when one would
make a misstep. "Why are you playing this ridiculous
game?" he whined. Langly coughed.
"Because Byers can't play poker."
He coughed again for the sarcastic emphasis.
Byers placed his dealt hand face down on the
table. "It's not that I can't play, I just don't play it well with
you guys." "You can't bluff.
That's your problem." "You have a `tell'," Frohike tried to
explain to him. "We know when you're lying." Byers shook his head in denial.
"I don't know what you're talking about.
I don't do anything differently from one hand to the next." "Oh, yes, you do, and since you insist on
sitting in when we get a game going, I'm not revealing it."
Frohike hid a smile behind his cards.
"I enjoy taking your money."
Langly slouched down in his chair, growing
impatient with the lull in the game.
"Yves, are you ever going to answer my question?" "Certainly."
She fanned her cards out, glimpsed at them one more time, and then peered over them.
"No, Langly, I do not have any threes.
Go fish." ++++++++++++++ ~~ a few hours after that ~~ "Well, it finally stopped sleeting."
Kimmy looked around the corner from the kitchen towards the others.
"I say that we send Jimmy to the roof and double-dog dare him to
lick one of the antennas." "Nah, he's seen that movie too many
times." Langly continued with the preparation of a peanut butter sandwich.
"Doesn't mean the big lug still won't do
it." Kimmy gleefully rubbed his hands together and left the room to
entice Jimmy outside. Frohike entered the kitchen, puzzled by the sudden
disappearance of the two up the staircase.
"Where are they going?" "Kimmy's gonna dare Jimmy to go on the roof
and tongue kiss an antenna."
Langly finished licking the peanut butter off of the knife. Byers had followed Frohike into the room and was
now concerned. "Doesn't
he know that Jimmy has seen A Christmas Story about a dozen times?" "He thinks that Jimmy will still fall for
it." The three Gunmen nodded silently in response and
remained in the kitchen. Langly
munched on his sandwich, Byers leaned up against one of the counters, and Frohike, arms
crossed, stood his ground in the middle of the floor.
They waited for the inevitable chaos.
It was not long before they heard the stomping of
feet on the roof entrance and the muffled yelling.
Byers sighed and pushed himself away from the
counter. "I'll go and get some blankets." "I'll get the portable heater from my
room." Frohike turned to Langly and motioned towards the stove.
"Why don't you start the kettle now?
By the time it gets boiling, maybe Jimmy'll let Kimmy in from off the roof." ++++++++++++++ ~~ later that evening ~~ Byers was the first to broach the most obvious
question of the evening. "I
suppose we should start discussing sleeping arrangements." Yves immediately pointed a finger in Kimmy's face
as a warning. "If
you value your life and your dental work, you will keep that mouth shut." Though tempted, Kimmy wisely kept silent. "Byers will be the gentleman and offer you
his bed," Frohike volunteered, "as long he sleeps somewhere
else, right? His room usually stays the cleanest.
The rest of us will double up and make do." Jimmy had something else in mind.
"We could just have a big slumber party in front of the TV.
You know, pull out all the blankets and sleeping bags."
He was disappointed when no one showed any interest in his idea.
"Come on, guys, pillow fights. I'm
game. How about it?" Yves gazed up at one of the outside monitors,
weighing the risks associated with lying in an icy ditch
against the dormitory antics sure to come.
"At the risk of inviting the most untoward of comments, I must point out that I
have no bedclothes in which to change." Byers again came to the rescue.
"Will flannel pajamas do?" Kimmy waited until the two were out of earshot
before turning to Langly. "You
should sell them on eBay later. You
could make a fortune." ++++++++++++++ ~~ a little bit later ~~ Yves licked her lips, cupping the wide mug in the
palms of her hands. She
took another short sip of the hot drink, swirling the liquid in her mouth with her tongue to capture
the flavor. "Frohike, this is absolutely delicious.
Where did you find the recipe?" "It's something that I've developed over
time." Frohike, plumped with pride, was elated for the compliment
from Yves; women, he thought to himself, had a deeper base
appreciation for chocolate than men.
He was pleased with the evolution of this particular recipe after having sampled
something quite similar in of semi-sweet chocolate squares, a pinch of sugar,
some nutmeg, and the secret ingredient - sweetened
condensed milk." He reached for a heavy glass bottle from a nearby
cabinet and asked in a sing-song voice,
"Care for a little amaretto with your cocoa?" "Why, Melvin, you naughty boy.
You've been holding out on me." Yves
lifted her mug. "I simply
must have a taste of it." Kimmy waited until Frohike had walked back into
the kitchen before whispering to no one in particular,
"I'll bet it's been a while since he's heard that from a woman." "I wouldn't be so sure about that."
Yves took a slow slip from her mug and pointedly avoided the stares of
the others. Jimmy loudly rapped his knuckles on the table to
get Frohike's attention in the kitchen.
"Don't we have any marshmallows?
I asked for marshmallows." ++++++++++++++ ~~ in the wee small hours of the morning ~~ "*What* are they watching?"
Kimmy attempted to explain to Langly, employing a
really bad imitation of Humphrey Bogart.
"Of all the movies on all the channels on all the satellite systems in the
world, they have to pick "They just don't understand, do they?"
Frohike sniffled and passed the box of Kleenex to Yves. She gently pulled a tissue from the box and dabbed
the corners of her eyes. "Uncultured heathens, the lot of
them." Jimmy, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front
of them, accepted the box from Yves' outstretched hand.
"I don't get it. Why
is Rick letting Ilsa get on that plane?" "It's for the greater good, Jimmy.
They both have work to do that will keep them apart."
She patted him on the shoulder in sympathy. "It's
a sacrifice, but it's a necessary sacrifice." "They love each other enough to let the other
one go. They never thought they'd see each other again, but
they did." Frohike sighed and blew his nose.
"They'll find each other when the war's over, that's what I always
hoped." Jimmy was still inconsolable.
"Rick should've stayed with her. Ilsa's
much prettier than Captain Renault." ++++++++++++++ ~~ mid-morning ~~ Kimmy bounded noisily down the stairs and into the
kitchen. "Well, it's official.
You are now out of hot water." Jimmy eyed him up and down, trying to discern any
telltale waterlogged signs.
"How long were you in there?" "Hey, don't look at me.
Blame the beauty parlor twins over there." Kimmy
pointed over at Yves, her damp hair wrapped up in a towel, standing behind a seated Langly.
"They took the time to wash their hair." Yves was about to make a comment that there could
not have been enough hot water to wash off the grime she
felt after spending so many continuous hours in the warehouse
but then remembered that she was still at the mercy of
their hospitality. She
continued in her attempt to comb out Langly's towel-dried hair.
"Hey, Kimmy, when the water heats up again,
you should take another pass . . ."
Langly yelped, unable to finish his sentence. "Ouch,
Yves, those are the tangles I've been trying to get through." Yves swatted Langly's shoulder to scold him.
"I've told you numerous times to put a good shampoo and
conditioner on your shopping list.
Just soap will simply not do if you are going to insist upon keeping your hair this
length." Kimmy nearly doubled over in laughter during this
last exchange. "Are
you going to give Langly manicuring tips later on as well?" he taunted. Kimmy was rewarded with a damp towel thrown in his
face. ++++++++++++++ ~~ later that afternoon ~~ Jimmy stomped his boots on the towel laid out near
the front door. "Okay,
the steps are cleared." He
quickly walked over to Yves and helped her finish putting on her coat.
"It's a bit slushy out there so you need to be careful,
but I've cleared a path to the cars." Yves tied the belt of her jacket.
"Thank you, Jimmy. As
quickly as that storm moved in, some milder
temperatures are now pushing it away.
At least it won't refreeze before we have a chance to get home." "Hold on a minute, Yves," Frohike called
out from the kitchen. He appeared a moment later carrying a Tupperware
container. "Here's some of the leftover curry.
I noticed that you had three bowls last night." "It was delicious."
She balanced the container in one hand and picked up her briefcase with the other.
"You know, I'd heard mention of your culinary talents, but I
wasn't expecting something quite so exotic on short notice.
You really outdid yourself during our little ice storm." Frohike walked with her to hold open the door.
"When I start feeling cooped up in this place, I start cooking.
It relaxes me." "It's a wonder the other two are still
relatively trim. I feel like I've gained five pounds since
yesterday." "You could stand to gain five more,"
Frohike absent-mindedly added. Three
seconds later, it dawned on him that he had said that out loud and tried to cover it up.
"Not that you're not quite . . . oh, never mind."
He steeled himself against the door for the expected backlash. Yves was in a forgiving mood, seeing as how she
was finally able to leave the warehouse.
"Thank you, Melvin. I
think." Kimmy followed her out the door but turned before
climbing the stairs. "Don't
I get a lovely parting gift as well?"
With the slam of the heavy metal door still ringing in
his ears, he started up the steps.
"They just don't make hosts as gracious as they used to." end |