The Snowfall
It was the morning of December 19, and nearly every man, woman and child in Tranquility, Massachusetts, was feeling the holiday spirit and hoping for a white Christmas. The meteorologists at the Weather Channel had predicted unseasonably cold temperatures and a chance of flurries. But then, in New England, flurries are routinely predicted three to four times a week from the beginning of October through to the end of March and in some years into the middle of April.
So, when those first flakes started gently falling around 10:00 a.m., no one paid much attention to them. It was all too common for scattered flurries to quickly evolve into blizzard-like conditions, and then just as rapidly give way to clear skies—all in the course of a few minutes. However, by 11:00 a.m. it was still snowing hard, and the snow was already starting to stick to the ground. By noon the roads were covered in a layer of white.
Parents were duly notified that their children were being dismissed from school early. As the eager youngsters got off the school buses, many raced for their sleds, and some started to build snowmen while others decided to have snowball fights. All of them chose to play outdoors and enjoy the first real snowfall of the season.
Then came the evening rush hour—although in a town the size of Tranquility, there were not too many places where people could rush to. The dump trucks that had been out sanding the roads all afternoon were joined by the snowplows. Although road conditions were not too bad, most commuters decided to exercise a little extra caution on their drive home. Even still, there were a few minor fender benders on both the highway and the secondary roads. Some of the people who had not had the chance to put on their snow tires began sliding around on the slick roads. Inexperienced drivers hit their brakes and sent their cars spinning out of control. And, of course, there were those drivers who still drove rear-wheel-drive vehicles that could not make it up Mountainside Road. Yet despite these scattered incidents, everyone made it home safe and sound.
The town of Tranquility had survived the first day of the snowfall.
* * *
The residents of the small Massachusetts town woke early the following morning to the sight of the ongoing snowstorm. Most had to shovel their driveways and walkways in order to get out of their houses and get to work. Those without garages or carports had to dig their cars out from beneath the fallen snow.
Schoolchildren, even those who were impossible to wake up at other times, got out of bed way before their parents and listened hopefully for the fire alarm that announced the closing of school. The schools were, of course, closed as were a few of the local businesses. Many others delayed opening until after their parking lots could be plowed. The early morning disk jockey at the local radio station announced the weather-related closings and delays every ten minutes and urged listeners not to call the station. And, as happens during every snowfall, his plea fell on deaf ears as many people chose not to wait for the next round of announcements and phoned the station anyway.
There was no morning rush hour to speak of since people left for work sporadically after they cleared their driveways and walkways, scraped their windshields and let their cars warm up. Some commuters took the time to put chains on their tires before bravely venturing out into the storm. Then there were the not-so-brave ones who waited to see how others fared on their commute before attempting the drive themselves. Lastly, there were the cowards who were not about to drive on hazardous snow-covered roads for any reason.
The majority of people did manage to make it to work safely, although at a much later hour than they normally arrived in the morning. Once they got to work, however, they spent a good part of the day swapping stories with their coworkers about the harrowing commute, reminiscing about the big blizzards and ice storms of bygone years and looking out the windows at regular intervals to see if the snow had stopped.
By late afternoon, the schoolchildren, after another day of playing outdoors, were either growing tired of sledding, snowman construction and snowball warfare or were on the verge of frostbite. One by one they all sought the warmth of their houses and the entertainment of their video games, televisions or CD players. Mothers, babysitters and the occasional househusband were left to sort through mountains of wet coats, hats, gloves, scarves, long underwear, sweatpants and sweaters. Washers and dryers all over Tranquility were turned on, while mud and puddles of melting snow were being mopped off floors and scrubbed off carpets.
Most businesses closed early—usually, once the owners realized their workers were not being very productive. The plows, salt trucks and tow trucks were once again out in full force, making their rounds of Tranquility's roadways. There were more accidents the second night than on the previous one; more weary commuters anxious to get home; more people wishing they lived in Florida, Texas or Southern California; and more drivers swearing that their next car would have four-wheel drive. Most people did make it home safely, only to have to park their cars on the roads while they once again cleared the snow from their driveways.
After so long and exhausting a day, many people chose to eat dinner and go right to bed. Some took hot baths and drank steaming mugs of hot cocoa, coffee or herbal tea. There were even those who chose to warm their bones with brandy. Others relaxed on their couches and watched television with their fireplaces or woodstoves lit and their thermostats turned up. Warmth and safety had temporarily become their main priorities.
The town of Tranquility had survived the second day of the snowfall.
* * *
The following morning people awoke to yet more falling snow. Their children did not bother waking up early, since they had no need to listen for the alarm. They already knew there would be no school in this storm.
The tired disk jockey, who had to brave the elements at an ungodly hour to get to the radio station for his early morning broadcast, monotonously droned on, reading the ever-growing list of closings. A snow emergency had been declared, he informed his listening audience, and the state police issued their usual warning, advising people who did not have to go out to stay at home.
Some hardy people once again started clearing the snow from their driveways, walkways and vehicles, but the majority of the residents decided to stay inside and wait until the storm finally ended before tackling the back-breaking job of snow removal. Only half the children went out to play; the rest stayed inside their homes where it was warm.
A few Good Samaritans in Jeeps, Subarus and other all-wheel-drive vehicles drove into town for milk, bread and other necessities for themselves and their grateful neighbors, even for those they had not spoken to in months.
The meteorologists at the Weather Channel reported that the storm, the center of which was directly over New England, was spreading both west and south at an alarming rate. It was already snowing in Florida, Louisiana and Mississippi, and the storm was heading for Texas. Another snowstorm was building up over the Pacific Northwest and yet another over the Great Plains. In Europe, South America and Asia, conditions were similar. It was snowing heavily in Great Britain, Germany, Switzerland, France, China, the Middle East and Russia. What the Weather Channel forecasters could not say for certain was when the storms were expected to end.
Life in Tranquility, although it had never proceeded at a hectic pace even in the busiest of times, virtually slowed to a crawl. All but a handful of businesses were closed. The local Walmart, which ordinarily remained open twenty-four hours a day, was operating with only seven associates and had completely run out of flashlights, batteries, snow shovels, ice scrapers, rock salt, quick melt, sand and even kitty litter.
The A&P, the only food store in town that was still open, was being manned by a sixteen-year-old stock boy and a middle-aged, part-time cashier, both of whom lived within walking distance of the grocery store. Yet even the A&P would close shortly because it was running out of milk, bread, bottled water, candles, batteries and just about everything else. Its shelves were nearly as empty as those in Mother Hubbard's fabled cupboard. Besides, there were very few customers making an attempt to get out and shop.
As the third day of the storm came to an end, people all over Tranquility went to sleep, having first prayed that the snow would finally stop before morning.
* * *
The following day, however, the snow continued to fall at an alarming rate. There were no vehicles on the roads, not even salt trucks or snowplows. Even if the drivers could get their vehicles on the road, there was no place to put the plowed snow anyway. Huge white mountains already lined every roadway in town, and the falling snow was starting to pile up in the valleys. People who turned on their radios could tune in to nothing but static. Like everyone else, all radio personnel, including the disk jockeys, were trapped inside their homes. Of the multitude of television stations normally available to viewers, only the Weather Channel was still broadcasting. HBO, CNN, the major networks, the local and independent stations and all other cable stations were off the air.
One exhausted engineer at the Weather Channel was filling in for the entire crew of missing weather announcers. The news he conveyed was grim. For the first time in recorded history, it was snowing everywhere in the world. Plants and animals that were used to living in tropical climates were dying off rapidly. The people in those areas were not faring much better. Only a few had sought shelter from the snow; the rest froze to death. Highway networks across the world were paralyzed. Presidents, kings, queens and prime ministers were helpless. Armies, navies, air forces, national guards and emergency rescue teams were all snowbound.
A few people managed to keep up their spirits and holiday cheer while they waited out the storm. It was almost Christmas time, after all, they reminded themselves. So, they exchanged their gifts early, sang carols and thanked God that at least their families were safe and warm within the walls of their snow-covered homes.
* * *
Days passed, and the snow kept falling. Most one-story buildings were completely buried in snow. Water pipes froze, soon followed by the reservoirs and other water supplies. Land phone service was gone; too many lines were down and no crews could get out and repair them. Electricity had also stopped. Thus, people who relied on electric heat were among the first casualties. Not even fireplaces or wood stoves did much good since people could not open their doors or windows to gain access to their wood supplies. Desperate citizens chopped up and burned their wooden chairs, tables, interior doors and even portions of their hardwood floors. But once these makeshift fuel supplies were exhausted, the intense cold entered into a mortal contest with a lack of food and water to see who would finally claim the lives of the innocent victims trapped inside their homes.
In every country around the world men, women, children and animals were dying at an alarming rate. Of course, there was no way the few survivors could know this. All communication outlets—even the Weather Channel—had ended. People were isolated in their dwellings waiting not for the end of the storm but for the end of humanity.
In their final moments, some people thought ironically of the dire predictions of global warming. Unfortunately, mankind had forgotten to take into consideration just how adaptable Mother Nature could be. Others reflected on the long-held fears of Armageddon, that the world would be blown apart by atomic war, violent earthquakes and volcanoes, or a terrible accident at one of the world's nuclear power plants. A world so vast and populated as this one was sure to die a violent and explosive death. But as the few remaining people in the world either froze or starved to death, they realized that the world would not end with a bang but with a whimper.
While across the doomed planet, the snow continued to fall.
It would be tranquil indeed if Salem were frozen under the snow.
