It finally happened

Word Count 1000 It Finally Happened


Brian was certain the pictures were fakes at first. The aerial view showed low scrub, seared brown and hunkered down against the brutal daily assault of a merciless sun. In the middle of that setting, that expanse of cracked and parched earth was a pond, set like a brilliant blue-white jewel . Not a small one either. How it would survive in this devil's oven would have been a mystery. That it existed though, paled in detail to the fact that it was also frozen over, right down to its unknown bottom.

The house was astonishing as well, located in this back of beyond. It was surrounded by trees, creating its own oasis. It was a house such as the pioneers made, though why anyone would drag wood hundreds of miles to build a house in this desolate place, also required much thought. The deep tin-roofed porch contained a single rocker, table, and a hound dog. Seated on any given day was an old gentleman, who matched the house perfectly, for he was out of place. Out of time as well. From his shotgun to his flannel shirt and suspendered jeans, he was every inch the mountain man.

When the first scientists made their way out to this place, the house, and its owner were already there. The dog would watch them, at times stirring himself to give a half hearted woof. On occassion though, something would get his attention, and he would raise his great head, listen for a moment, and, in sudden shift from repose, he would be off, the sound of his baying echoing eerily long after he was gone from sight. No one every saw what his quarry might have been.

Many tried to talk to the old man, but to no avail. He would nod politely if spoken to, but never spoke, and people rarely tried more than once. His would simply stare at the unlucky soul who had approached him, until that person gave up. There was something slippery and uncommunicative about him, much like the ice.

In regards to the pond, no matter how much the scientists tried to chip the ice away, an almost impossible task despite the heat, by the next morning the surface would once again be smooth and unmarred. The chemical analysis of the ice shifted and changed, with no consistency. No theory of origin held any promise, yet.

Each morning as well, the old man would take his place in the old rocker. tea at his side, dog at his feet with the old rifle propped up against the wall, in easy reach. He would watch the scientists going about their scurrying, probings, chipping and mutterings.

Each day he would wear the same small smile, one that peaked out from the depths of mustache and beard.
A deep satisfaction seemed to radiate from him.

The day Brian arrived with his crew he was awed and amazed at the heat, the sheer number of people, and the expanse of ice sitting in the middle of it all. He noticed the house was given a wide berth by all. The man and his dog were left undisturbed, watching the goings on with his usual contentment. When Brian would have approached the house someone touched his arm and advised not to, not until morning. Brian looked over once more, and after a moment concurred.

The next morning Brian had stationed himself near the porch long before the man came outside. He was determined to get his story and get out of this wretched place before noon.
As the front door opened however, Brian found himself suddenly reluctant to mount the old wooden steps and approach the man. He shook the mood off, reminding himself that this interview would be an exclusive, one that would put his byline on a front page or two and forced himself to move briskly onto the porch. By then the man had set his pitcher and glass down and settled himself into his customary position on the rocker.

Brian thought he saw something flicker in the mans eye, but blinked and dismissed the odd moment. He was still tempted to turn and leave, but the discipline of the reporter held him to his task. He cleared his throat and checked his notes.

"Sir, may I ask you a few questions?" Brian asked.

The man merely looked at him without responding.

"I was wondering how this all came about, what are you doing here?" Brian continued.

Again the man just stared at him, the silence stretched.

Finally the old man's small smile widened and Brian caught a distinct flicker, deep, in the mans eyes.

'Well" the man answered softly " I couldn't stay THERE anymore, now could I?". The man waved a hand at the Ice.

"There?" Brian asked.

"There" the man replied pointing again to the Icy surface. "It finally happened"

"What happened?" Brian asked again.

"It froze over" the man chuckled softly, "so many people said it, and it finally happened" The gentleman leaned slightly forward, and his dog suddenly sat up, now staring intently at Brian. Flamed flared in the Man's eyes, and deep within the dogs as well. That flame banished any thoughts of bylines and questions form Brian's head.

But though his mind froze he was already backing off the porch, body responding to the inherent threat long before his mind. His feet found their own way to the waiting chopper, and he gave the signal to take off immediately. He was airborne when the shaking started, deep inside at first and then it took over his whole body. It was a long time before it stopped.