“Been watching you out the window. What’sall the bloody commotion about?”
Stay strong! “I was trying to call foryou. The snowblower is completely blocked. I got the majority of the lanecleared but the last little bit is still covered because of the blockage. Itjust stopped working the minute it became blocked, sorry.”
“Fucking useless so you are. Getting a boyto do a man’s job, should’ve known you weren’t up to it. Well, you needn’tthink you’re getting out of it that easy. I’ll get it cleared and youwill finish it off.” As he says ‘you,’ he pokes me quite painfully in thechest. I take an involuntary step backwards. Then, he slurps up the remainderof his tea and beckons for me to follow him.
I maintain a steady distance behind him,watching him as he strides purposefully in the direction of the snowblower. Ifonly you knew! I thought we were getting a reprieve, but it was clearlyshort-lived as the earlier snowstorm which had left had now returned inearnest. The wind had also re-joined us and even the act of walking was provingdifficult. I had a wobble – what if he turned around, choosing instead to letthe storm pass and to clear the blockage later? However, he was showing nosigns of slowing down. I am quite sure he had other plans for this afternoon,and they certainly wouldn’t involve clearing out a snowblower.
He is trying to communicate with me, but Ican barely hear anything with the storm now in full force. We reach ourdestination, and he indicates to me that I should climb aboard. I do as I aminstructed. Again, I hear snippets of words, but it is all indecipherable. Ifeel sure he is cursing, judging by the look on his face. He approaches me andleans right in, realising I can’t hear a word. I feel like recoiling, barelysuffering the stench of his breath so close to me. He barks his orders; “Makesure she’s off and your foot is nowhere near the clutch. The spark plug shouldbe disconnected but fuck it, I’m not pissing about with that in theseconditions!”
OK, here goes nothing. Time to put thisplan into action. The engine was still idling but the noise of it wassuffocated with the roar of the wind. There was a very slight shaking motion tothe snowblower since it was still idling but would he notice? The plan had beento turn the engine off then put it back on as he set about clearing theblockage but was that necessary if he didn’t realise it was still on? Keep yourcool, I tell myself. Just wait a minute or two and see if he notices. The stormI had been cursing not so long ago for making my job difficult was now workingto my advantage. He didn’t seem to notice that I hadn’t turned it off. All thereassurance I needed came in the form of a sequence of hand gestures. Wecouldn’t hear one other whatsoever, so he did a motion in the air with hisright-hand mirroring turning the engine off. This was closely followed by bothhands outstretched in a gesture which depicted ‘well, have you done it?’ Heregoes nothing. I reciprocated by giving him the thumbs up and he copies,providing me with a thumbs up. He was ready to go in.
It did occur to me that he might haveequipped himself with a broom or shovel to assist him but no, he was going in withboth hands! He had put his trust in me to turn the engine off. What a fool! Atthat moment it felt as though time had stood still. His fate and mine were inthe hands of the gods, inexplicably intertwined. I watch intently as he removessome of the blockage from the top of the chute, his hands nowhere near theimpeller unit. Encouraged by the ease of which he managed to remove the toplayer of compacted snow and debris, he goes straight in again without delay.This time I watch memorised as he heaves a large boulder out of the chute.Those blades attached to the impeller unit were going to fire into actionimminently …
He digs deep a third time and there is nocontaining the shriek. It pierces and cuts through the storm. I watch the sceneunfold as though I’m seeing it through the eyes of someone else, feelingsomewhat detached from reality. I have never heard father scream before, and itis a sight to behold. He is a writhing, screaming, snivelling wreck; his facedevoid of any colour, clearly in shock. Then I see the blood. The perfect rubyred droplets land on the brilliant white snow and the contrast is striking. Itis my sole focus in that moment, and I am completely unaware that he isdesperately trying to communicate with me.
Thankfully, he makes steps towards me andit is enough to jolt me into the present moment. I act quickly, cutting theengine off dead. He is completely unaware of my actions; too consumed withtending to his bleeding hand. I cannot ascertain the extent of the injury hesustained since the snow is coming down thick and fast and is being blown inevery direction, making visibility extremely difficult. I mentally preparemyself as best I can for what I am about to witness. Caroline’s words areringing in my ears – ‘He has it coming to him.’ I think of Juliet and mother,both so helpless and easily manipulated by him and it helps me strengthen myresolve.
He is right up by my side now and hebrandishes the bleeding digit in my face. Sadly, he has only sustained aninjury to one of his fingers – the thumb of his right hand – so not as gruesomeas I had anticipated. It was difficult to tell in the storm, but it looked asthough the majority of his thumb
