Avalanche!

by Frieda Wishinsky

  For Diane Kerner, with thanks

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Author’s Note

  Facts About Avalanches

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  February 15

  Finally, thought Alex. A perfect day for a snow fort. Snow covered everything. It blanketed the roof of the old three-storey house. It whitened the tops of the rickety wooden shed and the black garbage cans at the side of the yard. It coated the branches of the skinny pine trees in the back and the towering maple at the front. Most striking of all, it enveloped Mount Ava, the tall, jagged mountain right behind Alex’s house. The mountain looked like a giant wrapped in a white fur coat.

  It had snowed for three days straight but now the sun sparkled. The air was crisp and cold but there was no wind. The firm, slightly wet snow was just right for building a fort. And now that Owen had joined them, they might finish the fort before dark.

  They were working so hard on the last wall of the fort that at first only Alex heard the rumble. He looked up as the noise grew louder. Closer. It sounded like a speeding train but there were no trains in Glory.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I heard something,” said Owen. “They’re probably dynamiting on the road. They do that to stop avalanches from crashing down near the highway.”

  “That boom isn’t down the road. It’s close. Really close. It’s like thunder. It’s like … Owen! Ben! Look!”

  Alex pointed up to Mount Ava.

  Waves of snow barrelled down the mountain, breaking branches, crushing trees, pumping out blinding clouds of snow — heading right for them.

  “Avalanche!” shouted Alex. “Run!”

  But they couldn’t run.

  The force of the fast-moving snow knocked them off their feet.

  CHAPTER TWO

  One month earlier

  Alex gripped the hard grey arm of the sofa. He stared at the images on the TV screen as the documentary narrator’s voice filled their darkened living room.

  “Snow roared down the mountain engulfing everything in its path. People screamed and ran — desperate for safety and cover. But the avalanche was too powerful. Too fast. It buried them under mounds of heavy snow. Some even died while asleep in their tents. And then the snow stopped. There was a ghostly silence. It was over.”

  Alex took a long, deep breath. He brushed his straight-as-a-ruler brown hair out of his eyes and pushed his black glasses up his nose.

  It’s not real. It all happened long ago, he told himself. It’s just a reenactment of something that happened over a hundred years ago.

  So why did it feel so real? Maybe because they were now living close to steep mountains in Glory, British Columbia. Glory was close to the Rockies and to Jasper and Glacier National Parks. There were avalanche warning signs all along the highway, but until tonight Alex hadn’t worried. He liked mountains. They sparkled in the sun, peeked through thick fog and shimmered like cathedrals on clear, star-lit nights.

  “Parks Canada still warns hikers to equip themselves with shovels, avalanche transceivers and probes so they can be located if caught in an avalanche.” Alex shuddered at the historian’s last words.

  His dad flicked on the lights. “So what do you think?” he asked.

  “What an amazing story, Luc. It’s going to make a great book,” said Alex’s mom. “I can’t wait to visit the Yukon this summer. It will be amazing to see where the Gold Rush actually took place.”

  “Is there still gold there?” asked Emma. Alex’s nine-year-old sister looked up at her dad with a mischievous look in her brown eyes.

  “Probably not,” said his Dad. “But we can check it out.”

  Alex’s dad was a writer. He was writing a historical novel set in the Yukon, during the Gold Rush. They were planning a family trip to the Yukon in July so his dad could get a first-hand look at the landscape he was describing.

  “Could an avalanche happen here?” asked Emma. She didn’t look scared, just curious. But Alex was glad she asked the question and not him.

  “You’ve seen those snow sheds on the highway — those structures that look like small bridges built into the mountain? They help protect drivers from avalanches,” said Dad. “And anyway most avalanches occur in the backcountry.”

  “But what about Mount Ava?” said Emma.

  “There’s never been an avalanche on Mount Ava. Probably because it’s restricted to winter sports to protect the elk herds up there. There’s little chance of an avalanche.”

  “Let’s have hot chocolate,” said his mom. “That’ll warm us up after all this talk of avalanches.”

  While his mom and Emma headed to the kitchen, Alex peered out the big picture window in the living room. The snow had finally stopped, but more was expected to fall. Maybe there’d finally be enough snow to build a snow fort. The snow was piling up on tall, spiky Mount Ava and all over the yard. It already covered the trees, the bushes and the bird feeder.

  Alex couldn’t wait to build a snow fort. His dad had promised to help him but he was busy with his book. He’d spent the three months since they first arrived in Glory researching online and at the small Glory library. He told Alex he’d try and help him build a fort in February, but February was two weeks away.

  Emma said she’d help too, but Alex couldn’t count on her. She always got bored before they were even halfway through. It was Sam he needed, Sam he counted on, but Sam was back in Halifax.

  Sam and Alex were best friends and expert snow fort builders. Sam would have loved the snow in Glory. He would have also loved Alex’s room in the attic with its sloping ceiling and its window facing the mountain. It wasn’t a big house but it had lots of hidden nooks and deep cupboards. It also had a big wide porch in the back with four red rocking chairs.

  Alex’s room was more fun than his small bedroom in Halifax. The only view from his Halifax window was the neighbour’s brick wall.

  If only he weren’t so lonely in Glory. It was hard to make friends at school. The kids in his class weren’t mean, except for Owen Slater and Owen’s buddy Nate Mendes. They kept snickering and calling him “New Boy.” As for the rest of the kids — they’d all known each other since kindergarten. Alex was the new kid. Worse — he was the new kid from out East.

  Unlike Alex, in Glory everyone knew how to ski or snowboard. Lots of families had snowmobiles and zipped around the trails on the weekends. As for hockey — Alex had wobbly ankles, so he wasn’t good at that.

  But he was great at snow forts. He wanted to be an architect when he grew up, and he liked all kinds of buildings. But snow forts were his favourite. The kids back in Halifax called Alex and Sam the “Fort Kings.”

  Alex’s mom carried out a tray of mugs filled with steaming hot chocolate. Emma passed around a plate of their mom’s peanut butter chocolate chip cookies — Alex’s favourite. His mom was a pastry chef and had her dream job at the Glory Mountain Resort and Spa, a sprawling, luxury resort that drew people from all over the world.

  Alex bit into a cookie. His mom’s cookies were as delicious as ever. If only he were sharing them with Sam. If only Sam were there. Then Glory would feel like home.

 
CHAPTER THREE

  At ten o’clock Alex climbed into bed, pulled the soft green and white quilt up to his chest and opened his new book. It was called My Friend The Alien and it was about two boys, Jan and Michael, who discovered an alien in their backyard. The night before he’d laughed out loud when the boys tried to talk to the alien. But tonight, before Alex could finish a page, his mind drifted back to the documentary. Why did we have to watch it? Now he couldn’t get avalanches out of his mind.

  Stop worrying, he told himself. There’s no chance of an avalanche here.

  Alex opened his book and tried to read again. Soon he was laughing — especially when the alien spoke to Jan and Michael in rhyming English:

  I am from far away.

  Don’t know how long I’ll stay.

  I hope it is okay

  to sleep in your room today.

  “Alex, lights out. School tomorrow,” called his mom. “Don’t make five minutes turn into ten or twenty. It’s late.”

  They went through the five-minute routine every night. His mom knew that if he was reading a good book, it was hard for him to stop.

  Fifteen minutes later his mom poked her head into his room.

  “Alex …”

  “Okay. I’m turning off my light.”

  Alex flipped off the old brass lamp beside his bed. Then he turned to his side, pulled the quilt over his shoulder and was soon sound asleep.

  * * *

  The next thing he knew he was running, tripping, falling — a mountain of snow speeding behind him.

  No! I’m going to be buried alive. I have to escape. But he couldn’t escape. The snow catapulted him over bumps and ridges. It tossed him into a crevasse. He was … No!

  Alex opened his eyes. His heart was pounding but he wasn’t buried in snow. He was in his own bed. He hadn’t been caught in an avalanche.

  Phew! It was only a nightmare.

  Alex yanked his quilt higher. He tried to push the image of the avalanche out of his mind. He looked at the clock beside his bed. It was 6:00 a.m. He still had an hour to sleep.

  He tossed from side to side but it was useless, he couldn’t sleep. He sat up and turned on his light. He slipped out of bed, walked over to the computer on his desk and googled “avalanche.”

  The first entry was terrifying — a video of a real avalanche thundering down a mountain. The skier who filmed it had almost been buried alive. She’d been rescued, but it was a close call.

  Alex scrolled down to an article about avalanches. His dad was right. Unlike the late 1800s, these days in North America avalanches almost always occurred in the backcountry. Then again, in far off countries, avalanches did hit communities. In 1962 an avalanche from Huascaran, the highest mountain in Peru, killed thousands. And then there was an avalanche that hit a village in Austria in 1999 and buried 57 people — many of them died.

  Alex scrolled down farther. He read about two skiers who were caught in an avalanche in the backcountry not far from Glory a few years ago. One died. The other survived. The one who survived was lucky. She was found quickly. The article said time was critical. When someone is buried in the snow for more than ten minutes, the snow starts to weigh down like cement and makes it hard to breathe.

  Alex was about to read more when he heard his mother’s footsteps. “Are you up, Alex?”

  “I’ll be right there.” He shut off his computer and straightened the quilt on his bed. He slipped on his new jeans and a blue shirt, ran a comb through his hair and headed downstairs for breakfast.

  His mom was alone in the kitchen. “Good morning. Want some cereal?”

  “Sure,” said Alex

  “We’ll have to get moving,” said his mom. “The school bus isn’t running this morning because of the icy roads. I’ll give you and Emma a lift, but it’s going to be a long, slow ride.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The temperature had climbed overnight and instead of snow, ice clung to everything — the streets, the trees, the electric wires, the houses and the cars. Long icicles hung from their roof like sharp knives. It took Alex, Emma and their mom ten minutes to scrape the thick ice off their car.

  “We’d better go,” said his mom. Alex slid into the back seat beside Emma.

  His mom took a deep breath, exhaled and turned on the ignition.

  Cars skidded along the roads and the highway. Alex’s mom gripped the steering wheel as she drove. Emma read in the back. No one said a word even when they passed two smashed-up cars in a ditch. The twenty-minute drive felt like two hours.

  Finally they reached the school. Alex’s mom leaned back against the car seat. She closed her eyes, took another deep breath and exhaled. “What a drive. I hope the roads are better when I pick you up. Thank goodness I only have a few blocks to drive to work.”

  Emma and Alex got out of the car and walked to the front door as their mom slowly drove off. School was quieter than usual. They passed the office. The secretary and vice-principal were just taking off their coats, but the principal hadn’t arrived yet. Lots of people were going to be late.

  “See you later, Alex,” said Emma skipping down the hall to her class.

  Emma’s class was beside the library on the first floor. Her teacher was there. As soon as Alex neared his classroom, he knew his teacher, Mr. Moore, was not. Kids were screaming. Paper airplanes flew into the hall. Alex slipped off his boots outside his classroom. There was a smaller than usual lineup of boots and shoes. He walked into the class.

  “Hey, you! New Boy!” Owen called. Owen and Nate were folding paper airplanes. “I thought you’d be too chicken to come to school today. I bet Halifax kids don’t have to deal with ice like this.”

  “We’ve had ice storms,” said Alex. “We have snow and cold weather. It’s just different in Halifax because there’s more traffic and no mountains.”

  Owen rolled his eyes. “Yeah, different’s the word.” He poked Nate in the arm. Alex headed to the back of the room to hang up his jacket. But before he could, Owen yanked his blue hat off and tossed it to Nate.

  “Give it back,” said Alex.

  “Make me,” said Owen.

  All the kids in the room looked up.

  Alex’s heart raced. He took a step toward Nate and then he stopped. “You know what. Keep the hat. I have a better one at home, and my sister wore this one when she had a cold last week. It’s probably full of germs.”

  “I don’t believe you,” said Owen.

  “Me neither,” said Nate.

  “I don’t care if you believe me,” said Alex. He hung up his jacket and walked to his seat in the second row. He pulled out a book and began to read.

  Nate sauntered over to Alex. He dropped Alex’s hat on his desk. “Here. Take your germy hat.”

  Alex didn’t take his eyes off his book. “Thanks.”

  Owen aimed a paper airplane at Alex, but it flew out the door and hit Mr. Moore as he was walking into class. Mr. Moore crumpled the plane and tossed it into the recycle bin. “Back to your seats. I want you to meet a new member of our class. Come in, Ben.”

  A boy with curly blond hair followed Mr. Moore into the class. “Ben Green and his dad just moved to Glory from Los Angeles, California. Let’s welcome them warmly, especially since this weather must be a shock after sunny LA. Ben, grab a seat.”

  Ben hung up his jacket and sat down in the third row bechind Alex. Alex turned in his seat. “Hi,” he said.

  Ben grinned. “Hi.”

  “It looks like we’ll have indoor recess later,” said Mr. Moore. “Alex, could you show Ben what books we’re using and fill him in on our work during recess?”

  “Sure,” said Alex.

  * * *

  After social studies and journal writing, the recess bell rang. Alex pulled out his books to show Ben. “What was it like living in LA?” he asked.

  “Warm and sunny most of the time. The ocean and mountains are close, but it never feels wintery. We lived in LA for four years. We’re originally from upstate New York.�
��

  “There’s a lot of snow in New York State, right?”

  “A lot. I used to build snow forts with my dad. Then we moved to LA for his job.”

  “How come you moved to Glory?”

  Ben cleared his throat. “Mom died last year. Dad thought we needed to get away.”

  “I’m sorry about your mom,” said Alex.

  Ben bit his lip. “Thanks. Mom was sick for most of last year. When the offer to be assistant manager at the resort here in Glory came through, Dad said yes.”

  “My mom works at the resort. She’s the head pastry chef.”

  “Does she bring pastries home?” asked Ben, grinning.

  “Sometimes. And sometimes she bakes at home. You have to taste her peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies. They’re amazing.”

  “I love peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies!”

  “Maybe you could come over and try her cookies and then we could build a snow fort.”

  Ben grinned. “That would be great. Dad and I built a tree house last year. It’s been so long since I built a snow fort.”

  The bell rang. Recess was over. Alex scribbled his phone number on a piece of paper and gave it to Ben. Ben wrote his number down for Alex.

  Alex smiled as he tucked Ben’s number into his jeans pocket. Maybe he’d finally made a friend in Glory.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Alex couldn’t wait for ten o’clock. Ben was coming over for the first time and they were going to build their first snow fort. They’d talked about it every day at recess. They’d each made a picture of their ideal snow fort. Alex wanted a tall one, like a teepee. Ben wanted a low, wide one, like a tunnel. They’d combined both their ideas and decided to make their fort medium height and wide, like an igloo.

  They’d have at least seven hours of light to build. It had snowed all Friday night and the snow was heavy and wet, perfect for snow bricks. It was a perfect day all around. The sun was shining. The sky was clear blue. The air was crisp but not windy. And the snow on the mountains was glistening like jewels.