The wind whistled like the villain from my worst nightmares, and I shivered.Clank.Something heavy dropped on the floor.
Shit.
I gritted my teeth, picturing warm beaches and bonfires for imaginary warmth. “I’m coming down.”
“No,” he grumbled and let out a string of curse words. “Another window broke.”
That’s why I’m freezing my ass off.
Worry trickled down my spine, but I remained in problem-solving mode. “Okay, what do you need? Tape? Do you have a tarp anywhere?”
“I have a tarp. Can’t get it to stay with tape.”
“Hammer and nails?” I took two steps down the stairs. Aside from a little flicker of a small flashlight, it was dark. I sprinted to the living room and grabbed the larger flashlight and then returned and trained the light on the steps. “I can hold the light for you if that would help?”
“Sure. Bundle up. I’m freezing my balls off right now.”
I threw an extra blanket over my shoulders, making myself resemble a walking burrito, and then grabbed a coat for Harrison, a hat, scarf, and a pair of gloves. With one final breath for courage, I descended the stairs.
I was barely halfway down when the first blast of frigid air hit me, almost as though I had walked outside. Taking no mercy, the wind whipped around the unfinished basement, bringing with it puffs of fresh snow until every surface had been covered with a fresh layer of powdery white. A huge gym was set up to the left, with a bench and a bunch of weights. There was a treadmill covered in snow and a large black box. My first thought was to wipe it off, to make sure it wouldn’t leak into the machine. But come on, Becca, there would be no melting!
On the west side of the basement was a gaping hole. Beside it, Harrison—shaking from cold and wearing only the clothes he’d worn in bed—held a tarp up to the window. Around him, shards of glass covered the floor in every direction.
“Harrison, you need more layers!” I shouted.
He dropped the tarp to the floor and ran toward me. “I d-didn’t think it would be th-this bad.”
“You’re shivering. Come here.” I pulled him close and wrapped my arms around him as far as they would reach.
He wrapped his large arms tightly around me, his chin resting on top of my head. It was like hugging a Popsicle.
“Do you need to head upstairs to warm up for a minute?” I asked.
“No. We need to stop the c-cold before it gets w-worse.”
He buried his ice-cold nose into my neck, making me jump in shock, but I held on tighter. “You head back up if you g-get too c-cold, okay?” he said.
“Let’s do it together.” I broke our embrace, assessing him head to toe. A slight bluish color tinted his lips. We needed to fix this, fast. “Where are your tools?”
“Here.” He hustled toward an organized shelf and pulled out a nail gun. “I hope it’s charged. If not, we might be shit out of luck.”
“Try it.” He’d been down here five minutes but it was already dangerously cold.
Please work! Oh my God, please work.
My pulse skyrocketed as the temperature plummeted further. I pointed the flashlight at the broken window as Harrison climbed a stepladder. Holding the tarp at the top of the window frame with one hand, he settled the nail gun against the vinyl and pulled the trigger.
Bam, bam, bam.The staccato of the nail gun sounded like mini gunshots.
“Thank Christ, it works.” He copied the movement ten more times around the top of the tarp and then sealed the sides and bottom. “Can you grab another tarp from the green bin over there?”
“Yes.” My teeth chattered, but my eyes scanned over the room.
Green bin. Green bin.There. Finding the bin, I brought him the second tarp.
Harrison attached the second tarp over the first and grabbed a roll of duct tape. Pulling out a long strip, he tried ripping it. “I can’t—I can’t tear it. My hands are too cold.” His face fell in disappointment.
“I’ll do it.” We traded the flashlight for the tape, and I ripped the pieces we needed. We sealed the tarp around the window well, our synchronous teeth chattering the only sound besides the wind. There wassomuch glass on the floor, though.
