Time has changed, no longer just a’changing, as Bob Dylan sang.
I cannot say for certain what is to blame; is it due to natural causes, or is HARP or the Chemtrails or The Large Hadron Collide/CERN to blame? For all I care, it could be aliens or angels. Learning to live with the changes is what I worry about. Not for me, of course, I am old - and I have taken precautionary measures to assure my survival. It is the young of today, especially those with children, who seem to be incapable of planning ahead so as to handle the sudden pockets of Winter Holes which flash into existence at any time of the year, lasting from seconds to weeks.
I stared at the snow flurrying in patterns past my window as strong winds blew. It is the strangest sight ever, for some of the winds are those of normal summer and as they cut across the snow the flakes melt as if a laser has been focussed on them.
The television announcer warned of snow drifts in the mountains, some deeper than four metres already. My bones tell me this winter hole is going to last for weeks, if not more than a month. The summer winds only make matters worse, for they blow, melt some of the snow and instantly the winds die and the water freezes. I thought of the small town high up above me, in the mountain. There are people I like there, who greet me when I visit for a beer or coffee as if we are friends. I know they will not be prepared and will die, unless someone does something to help them.
Unfortunately, I am the only one who can help. I have built the only all-weather vehicle which neither snow, floods nor shotgun-gusts of wind can stop. I built it to save me from Man, not from nature! Still, I have provisions in it that can feed fifty people for a week (if we are all willing to go hungry) and, if the lines are down, a generator which can light and heat two homes for ten days. It will take that long for the government to provide real help, so I have no choice, I must go - even if it makes me angry. It always makes me angry when I am forced by my own weakness to sacrifice that which I have sacrificed for, for those who did not have the courage to raise their eyes to see what may come their way.
Once I reached snow of over thirty centimetres, the computer let down the skis and released the skirt. Now, with wheels, skis and hover-skirts, the computer concentrated on compensating for drift caused by sudden gusts. The driving itself I handle, I only trust my own hands.
Once I arrived, I soon had everyone moved to the large pub-restaurant. I disconnected the electricity lines so that they do not drain my generator and connected to the building, providing them with lights and heating.
Altogether there are over seventy people, but being stranded in a restaurant means there is extra food. My problem is, I cannot stay in my vehicle and I hate crowds. If I have to stay among them for more than a day I’ll go crazy.
The owner of the restaurant, John, listened to my explanation of why I need a room, even if it is tiny, for myself, and led me upstairs to his home. He had a spare bedroom so I soon calmed down and even came out to sit in the sittingroom to watch the cartoons his daughter was watching, as I sipped at a pea soup I made from my supplies. The child thought it was funny of me to drink soup from a mug, but she enjoyed the taste and I’m certain it also helped warm her insides.
She switched off the television and sitting by me on the sofa, she told me her name, Jennifer, and asked if I have any stories I can tell her. I told her I do not, only anecdotes about my life, and those will bore her. She pleaded for one and soon the hours slipped by as I continued talking, inspired by the enthusiasm of my little listener. She did listen, not just pretend, for she asked questions. The way she stared into my eyes when she talked to me, it was as if she had two Summer holes in her face, glowing with her feelings.
As I’d hoped, the first men from outside arrived within three days and on the fifth day I prepared to leave, as trucks had arrived - they even thought to bring a large generator, so I was no longer needed. Without a word to anyone, I disconnected my vehicle and left, returning to my home without telling anyone, apart from Jennifer, who I am or that I am leaving.
The experience had proven useful and I was able to better provision my vehicle for any future emergencies, so my memories of those days did not leave a bitter taste in my mouth, as I had expected them to. Otherwise, all I did is do as I have done for years; keep to myself so that none may have a claim on me when the shtf.
Seven days after my seventy seventh birthday, all sevens seemed to fade away. If your house was on 176 Colbert Drive, it would now be on 1 6 Colbert Drive. I instantly thought of the girl with the Summer eyes, who I recalled would now be seven years old and her image, the warmth of her unspoilt spirit, it called to me. I drove as fast as I dared and within hours I arrived at their restaurant.
The doors were open and when I asked, I was told John is upstairs with his dying daughter. I rushed up the stairs, without greeting, grabbed at her and pulled her to me as I shouted at her, “I am a double seven, it makes me stronger, join me, take my two sevens, make them a part of you. My Summer heart, you must live. Live!”
I pulled out my knife and slashed at the veins in my neck and as I faded, I saw my double seven blood flood over her. I had time to think, 'she will live, it was worth it.'
Right, I’ve told you about me, so how about you explaining to me how it is I am here in this cell. How am I alive and why is the door locked?
Are my sweet Summer eyes still alive?
Has the Seven Hole gone, did she survive it?
Αλέξανδρος Ζήνον Ευσταθίου - (Alexander Zenon Eustace)
Written: 28th May, 2019
* posted on Publish0x 13th July, 2019
* posted on Steemit: 29th May, 2019
