Polar Storm

by Deborah D. Moore

  “Very clever, considering how cold it’s gotten all of a sudden.” Parker rubbed his arms. “I think it’s time we put up those plywood walls! Maybe it will keep some of the wind off the house too.”

  They spent the balance of the afternoon setting the thin panels horizontally around each end of the long deck.

  “Now that these panels are up, do you think it will be enough?” Parker questioned, looking at the sixteen feet now blocking the view.

  “There’s still sixteen feet exposure,” David said. “If we get two more sheets and set them vertically, you will have eight additional feet of protection and still have an eight-foot entrance. If it still isn’t enough to keep the wind out, we can tarp it like we did the woodshed. It lessens the ventilation of the generator, though we can fix that with a dryer hose and vent it through a cut hole.”

  Parker grinned. “I think I’m really lucky to have such a smart friend. Let’s go to town and get what we need!”

  

  Parker backed the pickup truck near the porch, where they could put the additional panels right up. He dropped the tailgate and started to slide the first sheet of plywood out.

  “Ah, Parker …” David was staring at the porch.

  On the porch and steps, were his two tomato plants and a stack of the green bean plants, all ripped up by the roots and thrown in obvious anger.

  “This is past annoying,” Parker said in a low, gravelly voice. He pulled out his phone and took some pictures. Once he was sure the pictures were good shots, he stomped to the rear of the house where his garden was—or had been. Every last plant was torn up and tossed aside; not one thing was left in the raised bed, except for a single radish. In the smoothed dirt, someone had written GO HOME. He took a couple more pictures, and then smoothed out the writing.

  Parker stood, and took a deep breath, trying to steady his mounting anger. He let the breath out slowly and picked up one of the heavy tomato pots, heading for the porch.

  David watched quietly and then picked up the other pot. Silently, they repotted the tomatoes, hoping to salvage them. After watering, Parker set the two pots on the porch in the shade for the plants to recover and swept the porch clean of the dirt, and then they finished the work on the protective walls.

  “I really don’t feel like going back into town to file another report,” Parker said, opening a beer.

  “Okay, then let’s get the gennie going, and get the TV and Blu-ray hooked up!” David said, trying to lighten Parker’s dark mood. “What’s your favorite movie?”

  “Terminator.”

  David grinned and in his best Terminator voice said, “I’ll be back.” He laughed. “I really will be; I do need to feed Pythagoras first.”

  By the time David returned, Parker had the new grill heating up, the generator wheeled in from the barn and an extension cord ready to plug in. He had placed a power strip on the floor by the interior outlet for the TV and the Blu-ray, and was in the kitchen forming hamburger patties.

  “What took you so long?”

  “I couldn’t find Thag. I think he’s mad at me for being gone so much,” David confessed.

  “Does he travel well? You could bring him over here when it’s movie night,” Parker offered.

  “Really? I think he would like that! I’ll be right back.” David drove the jeep back to his place and returned within ten minutes, with a protesting Thag in his carrier.

  Once released, Pythagoras, true to the mild nature of Maine Coon cats, adjusted well, although he never left David’s side as he and Parker got the new electronics hooked up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  During the night, Parker slept through a vicious cold rain storm that had at some point, turned white. He woke up to six inches of snow on the ground.

  “Wow, that’s really … beautiful,” he said thoughtfully, forgetting about the destruction to his garden. He started up the woodstove to take the chill off the house, and to fix some bacon and eggs. Cooking on the old-fashioned stove was turning out to be easier than he expected and something he was actually enjoying.

  Parker stepped out onto the now enclosed porch to grab a couple pieces of wood when he noticed the blinking light of the trail camera fixed to the house and aimed at the porch steps. He removed the card from the camera and turned on his laptop to take a look.

  After forwarding through the shots of him or David walking by, triggering the motion sensor, the grainy black and white pictured showed a medium-sized person with a hoodie pulled up tight around a balaclava tossing Parker’s garden plants through the sixteen foot opening. Parker thought about the other two cameras and pulled those. The footage was similar and no clear shot of the person trying to run him off. Still, it was proof that someone was bent on him leaving.

  It didn’t concern him that David hadn’t been over. Their outside work was done, and the winter food storage was progressing. All the boxes stacked on the floor bothered Parker though. He wasn’t a total neat freak, though he didn’t like clutter. He measured the area.

  

  Deputy Gabe Smith looked at the pictures of the plants, the garden, and the writing, and stuck them in the hard copy file. Then he loaded the camera card into his computer.

  “Now we have some proof.” He smiled and waved over his partner. “Al, this is Parker Adams, the young man who bought my grandpa’s camp and who has been having the vandalism issues. Here is an interesting shot from one of the trail cams.”

  “Can you back it up some?” Al requested. “There.” He pointed to a scene where David and Parker had walked past the camera. “How tall are you, Parker?”

  “Six feet,” he answered. “And so is David.”

  “Judging by the comparison of the surroundings to you, your perp is five foot nine, maybe five foot ten and heavier. Not much help, but it does narrow the field some,” Al said.

  

  Parker made a quick dash to his truck. In the short time he was inside the sheriff’s office, the chilly air had turned warm again, and a heavy rain was washing away most of the snow, leaving large slushy puddles in the parking lot.

  While he was in town, and to not waste the trip, though validating the vandalism with the trail cam pictures was not a waste, Parker stopped at the hardware store first for his next project, and then the bulk food store and bought another case of macaroni and cheese. At Walstroms, alongside the six pounds of butter he thought would get him through the winter, he added a large bag of cat food, a new litter pan, and a bucket of litter to his cart. Parker liked having Pythagoras over.

  Back home, and feeling confident in the daylight, Parker brought more wood into the house and also added more to the emergency stash on the porch. Then he moved the food boxes out of the way and got busy putting his new shelves together.

  

  “This weather is weirder than I’ve ever seen it,” David said, knocking the mud off his boots. It was late afternoon when he made his way down the road.

  “Yep, I will never again doubt you or Keith again about getting wood in!” Parker said. “What do you think?” he asked, physically turning David to see the neat row of heavy-duty plastic shelving that now held his growing supply of winter food.

  “That’s amazing, Parker!” David walked up to the shelves to read the notes on the boxes. “I see you’ve organized them some too.” He turned and grinned. “It doesn’t look like as much on the shelves as it did stacked on the floor.”

  “No, it doesn’t, and it shows how much more we have to do.”

  “You know what’s missing? The non-food stuff we use every day. You know, like soap, paper towels, toilet paper, like that,” David pointed out.

  “You’re right, I hadn’t even thought about those things.” Parker was feeling stupid; no, not stupid, ignorant that he hadn’t thought things out. He had lived his entire life having access to whatever he wanted or needed, never
giving it a second thought to who may have put those things on his handy shelf. He added those items to his ever-present list.

  

  Two days later, Parker and David took another walk down to the river. They walked from one end where it crossed the 80 acres, to the other end, both clearly marked with the bright blue spray paint from the surveyor. On the end furthest to the west was a small footbridge that led them across the river and to the ten-acre wedge of Parker’s land.

  “What’s that up in the tree?” he asked David.

  “Looks like a hunting blind.”

  When Parker looked at him confused, David went on.

  “It’s like a tree house. Guys build them so they can sit comfortable, sheltered and unseen, waiting for a deer to come down the trail. It’s on your land, so it must have been Mr. Smith’s. Let’s go take a look.” On the opposite side out of view was a ladder nailed to the tree. David climbed up first with Parker right behind him.

  “This looks like it was used recently.” David frowned at the candy bar wrappers and beer cans.

  “Maybe we should put one of those trail cams aimed here,” Parker suggested, hands on his hips, not liking the thought of someone trespassing. When David started to pick up the wrappers, Parker stopped him. “If we clean up, whoever has been up here will know we know and maybe before we can set up the camera.” David nodded.

  They followed the west property line back to a logging road that took them back to the house.

  “SHIT!” Parker yelled looking at his truck. “I’ve had enough of this!” On the hood was one of the split logs that had been stacked on the porch, left there after someone had smashed the windshield.

  “Parker, this is getting serious.”

  “No shit, Sherlock!” Parker grumbled. He went into the house for his phone to take pictures, and then locked the door to the cabin, something he rarely did.

  “Come on, I’ll drive us into town, where you can call one of those glass places that will come out and replace it,” David offered.

  “It’s looking like rain. I’m going to back the truck into the barn so the interior doesn’t get soaked in case they can’t come right out.”

  

  “Is Deputy Smith here?” Parker asked Deputy Aho.

  “He’s on a call. What can I do for you, Mr. Adams?”

  “The vandalism has escalated,” Parker said, pulling the pictures up on the phone. “I’ve already called that safety glass company. They’ll be out in the morning.”

  “That’s good. Can you email us those pictures? Although I think this time Gabe will want to come out, if that’s okay with you,” Al said.

  “Of course.”

  “I suggest you go straight home to keep an eye on the place.”

  

  Sitting around the small kitchen table, the two deputy sheriffs listened to Parker’s retelling of their walk. Thunder rolled in the distance.

  “And you’re sure the candy wrappers were new?” Gabe asked while taking notes.

  “I’ve got a really good sense of smell and I could still smell the chocolate,” David said sheepishly, shrugging.

  “Tell you what, to be on the safe side, one of us will go with you to set up the new trail cam and the other will stay here,” Gabe suggested.

  “David is better with the geeky stuff,” Parker said, smiling.

  “Okay, since I know a shortcut to that corner of the property, I will go with David,” Gabe offered. “I doubt you will see any activity for several days. All these incidents are spaced close to a week apart. And maybe once winter sets in, all this will stop.”

  Forty-five minutes later, they were back, mission accomplished, and just before the first flash of lightning lit up the sky.

  Dark clouds, heavy with rain, moved in to quickly blot out the sun, leaving only a pale smudge in the western sky. An icy wind followed more faint rolls of thunder.

  

  Do they really think I don’t see what they’re up to? I’ll just use one of the other tree stands to keep an eye on MY cabin! I think I’ll mess with them a bit more first. After Gabe and David were well out of sight, he opened the trail cam he had watched them install and removed one of the AA batteries, turned it over, and put it back in, upside down so nothing would record. He laughed silently all the way back to his ATV, the rain pelting his bare head.

  

  “Parker, this is not something I would normally recommend except that I see you already have a shotgun,” Gabe said, pointing where it was leaning in a corner. “I suggest you get a handgun, if you don’t already have one. It’s a prudent thing to have living in the woods anyway. If you don’t know how to shoot, I can give you a few quick lessons.”

  “I appreciate that, Gabe. I’ve been shooting for a long time, and yes, I do have a handgun. It’s only a .22 automatic, but I’m a good shot, and if I can’t get someone or something to change their mind in ten shots, then shame on me,” Parker replied, thinking of the gun out in the barn.

  “Great, and Parker, carry it with you at all times here.”

  The wind and rain now pounded the cabin with a fury that surprised Parker. Heavy gusts of wind ripped at the tarps covering the recently filled woodshed.

  

  Five days later, the deputies returned to check on the camera card.

  “I think this time I’ll bring my laptop so we can check the card right there and I can download any movement straight to the file,” Gabe said, pulling the laptop case strap over his head as he and David headed along the same trail.

  

  “There should be something here, even a squirrel would trigger the motion sensor, but there’s nothing,” Gabe said, peering at the small screen.

  “I know we tested this before we left and it was working fine,” David said. “Let me see the camera, maybe the batteries are dead.” He opened the back and started to tap the AA batteries into his hand. “Shit.”

  “What is it?” Gabe asked, alarmed by the swearing, something he hadn’t heard the young man do before.

  “One of these batteries has been turned around: the power was essentially interrupted so nothing would record,” David said.

  “Are you sure—?” Gabe started.

  “I’m positive they were inserted properly, and we tested it, remember?” David reinserted the one battery properly, closed the case, and the green light came on. “Someone tampered with it.”

  Gabe thought for a moment. “A poacher would have taken the camera; whoever did this only wanted to disable it, and he didn’t take anything, not the camera, not the card, not batteries, so in effect, he committed no crime other than trespassing. Take it down; this trap has been blown.”

  

  When the second nuclear reactor accident happened during a Pacific typhoon, no one heard about it. The government involved was already covering it up within hours. That didn’t stop the massive discharge of radioactive wastewater into the already radioactive polluted Pacific Ocean. Although it subsequently only raised the ocean temperature by two degrees, on top of the three degrees from the first accident, the five degrees had a dramatic effect on the ecosystem of the water, including shifting the Jet Stream.

  The two constant air masses that affect the weather, the Polar Vortex, cold and dense to the North and the Jet Stream, hot and less dense to the South, are separated by an invisible boundary that was removed by the overheating. The difference in densities resulted in the weaker cold air mass slipping under the hotter and less dense air mass. The weaker Polar Vortex broke into two systems; when very weak, the flow of arctic air often becomes more disorganized and masses of cold arctic air can push even further south, bringing with it a rapid and sharp temperature drop. Where the two systems meet, the cold dry air mass and the warm moist air mass dictate the location of the polar front—and it was moving south at an alarming rate.
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  With the overheated Jet Stream pushing moist air into the cold, the Polar Vortex split in four masses. Feeding from the unusually high moist temperatures, the vortex split yet again, pushing even further south, dumping mass amounts of snow early in the season over a wide area.

  And then the system stalled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cliff Tucker turned the TV off. It was his habit to watch the news and weather early in the day to plan what needed to be done. Although he had hired a manager for each of his rental units, he was still an active owner and it helped to keep those managers pointed in the right direction. That direction right now was looking ominous.

  He tapped out an email and sent it to all of the managers to stock up on road salt and to gas up the company plows.

  “Justine!” Cliff called out, looking for his cook and housekeeper.

  “Yes, Mr. Tucker?” she called out from the kitchen where he joined her.

  “The latest weather report has a big snowstorm moving in soon; about two days out. It looks like a huge system and already they are warning about possible power outages. I know you recently did the weekly shopping; however, I think you should go again before the stores start getting crowded,” he said. As an afterthought, he added, “I want you to take Sam with you.”

  “Yes, Mr. Tucker.”

  “Oh, and I’m inviting Mary over for the duration of the storm, so you’ll be doing meals for the four of us so stock up heavy.”

  “I’ll be sure to get something extra special. Mary is a wonderful person, sir.” Justine smiled at her long-time boss. She was extra pleased that he not only found someone he cared for, but that he thought of his staff as members of the household enough to introduce them to her.

  Cliff found having a live-in married couple as the housekeeper/cook and the handyman/groundskeeper to be one of the best decisions he and Janet made when staffing the house. That they were very efficient and good at what they did was the key; being compatible enough to be married was the added bonus.