The Ice Storm

"Stop crying! Boys do not cry, at least not twelve-year-old boys!" I scold myself as I wipe the tears off my face with my good arm. But my left arm is really hurting and I fear that I had broken it when I slipped on one of the icy twigs scattered everywhere in the woods.

It is not easy to find a place to sit down for a much-needed rest. Everything is wet and slippery, all covered in a thick layer of ice. Some of the trees, branches and twigs, unable to bear the weight of the ice, have fallen down, lying about like pick-up sticks. It is still drizzling, for the fourth day now, and the ground is icy.

I manage to find myself a huge trunk lying across the trail and slowly try to slip off my school bag without hurting my left arm too much. As I sit down, I realize that the trunk is part of the huge maple tree that my dad and I used to pass by during our walks in the woods. Just a few months ago, we had marveled at how its red and gold leaves shone in the setting sun. Now, half the tree is left standing in the freezing rain while the other half lies lifeless on the wet ground, branches all crushed under its own weight. I just hope that the remaining half will survive all this and continue to show off its colors for many falls to come.

"Swoosh…swoosh…swoosh…" I look up and jump out of the way as a branch makes its way down, past other branches, raining icicles along the way, and then crashes with a thud, splashing shards of ice all over the place.

I now realize that I can be in as much danger in the woods as out on the streets and am beginning to wonder if I should have taken the bus home. Well, maybe not. I still remember those close calls I had this morning when I was slipping and sliding on the icy sidewalks, while cars were skidding out of control on the streets. Even the bus I was on almost skidded into a lamppost. I could have been killed when a car went out of control and headed towards where I was waiting for my bus.

Perhaps I should have stayed home today altogether. This morning had gotten off to a very bad start when Dad shook me awake, telling me that I was late and so was he. The power had gone out at 2 a.m., so our alarm clocks were not working. Just before Dad rushed off to his meeting, he had suggested that maybe I should stay home for the day. But I love school and, rather than staying in a cold house with nothing to eat but cold food, I decided to go to school.

After nearly an hour to get to school, I almost cried with disappointment and frustration when I saw the sign saying "School Closed". If the power had not been out at home, I would have learnt about the school closure on the radio. Not wishing to risk breaking my bones walking home on the treacherous sidewalks or being run down by out-of-control vehicles, I decided to take the shortcut through the woods, against repeated warnings from Dad. Walking through the woods is not as easy or as safe as I thought, however, now that everything is either soaking wet or covered with ice. Besides, the fallen twigs and branches and even trees make walking and following the trails difficult, while the falling ones pose great danger as they can fall on me and knock the life out of me!

But then, looking at the winter wonderland around me and smelling the moist and cold air, I don’t think that I would have missed this for all the world. The crystalline forest is incredibly beautiful, like nothing I have ever seen before. The thick coating of ice on everything has turned every bush and shrub and tree into exquisite objects of art. As for the air, I have never imagined that the air can smell this clean and fresh.

My stomach growls and I remember I had missed breakfast this morning. I’m really thankful that I had listened to Dad’s advice to always make lunch the night before. I carefully take out my lunch with my good hand and take a couple of quick bites out of the tuna sandwich. I hear a little meow, or do I? I turn around to see a wet, little kitten with matted white fur covered with brown and gray specks of dirt. It is staring hopefully at my tuna sandwich. When I offer it half of what is left of the sandwich, it gingerly approaches me and hungrily munches on it. Then it meows "Thank you" and rubs its head against my calf, purring happily. It looks like a well-cared-for little kitten, despite its rather filthy appearance from walking in the woods. I wonder where it comes from and what it is doing in the woods on a cold, drizzly day like this …

Is that a cry I hear? I strain my ears to hear and get up to follow the sound. It is a grayish brown bunny crying in pain because a frozen branch is crushing its front left leg. With some effort, I remove the branch with my good hand. The bunny limps away but doesn’t go far. It licks at its wound a bit and then stands staring at me with its beady eyes, its nose twitching and sniffing. It occurs to me that it may be hungry. I have some carrot sticks in my lunch box and I am still very hungry, but I guess the bunny needs them more. The bunny limps towards the carrot sticks hesitantly, sniffs at it briefly and then chews on them happily. As I watch the bunny munching on the carrot sticks, I can’t help but notice that both of us have broken our left arms. I hope it is not feeling as much pain as I am. I wonder why it is not hibernating in some cozy and warm rabbit hole. Could it be that its peaceful sleep through the winter had been interrupted when a tree toppled over, exposing its home? If so, what is to become of this bunny? Without its home, how is it going to survive the rest of the winter?

The pain in my left arm has finally subsided a bit. I had better start heading home, as I am feeling cold, wet, hungry and tired. As I start to walk, the kitten and the bunny both try to follow me, but they seem to have difficulty walking, especially the wounded bunny. I pick up the bunny with my good hand and stuff it inside my snow jacket, but the shot of pain in my left arm almost leaves me breathless. As there is no more room inside my jacket, I put the kitten into my school bag and hope that it would not make a mess of it. But putting the school bag back onto my back hurt so much that I end up just half carrying, half dragging it with my right hand, while I try to keep the bunny inside my jacket with my left arm. As we walk along, every slip that I make, every fall that I take and every move that the bunny makes bring tears to my eyes.

My heart jumps on hearing my name. Just when I am thinking that the walk home would never end and that I would never make it home, I hear my Dad calling my name. I can hear the fear and the worry in his voice, but it is the most wonderful sound I have ever heard in my life!

I will always remember the relief and joy on my father’s face the moment he sees me. Many years from now, when I have grown up and I tell my children and grandchildren about the Ice Storm of the Century, I may not remember all the details of what my Dad is telling me now: how he struggled home after State of Emergency had been declared for the Region at ten this morning, how worried he was when he couldn’t find any sign of me at home, how he desperately telephoned everyone he could think of, how he searched everywhere for me, etc., but I will always remember the warmth and love I feel now as I walk home with my Dad in the freezing rain.