Authors: Laura Dower
Mom covered the receiver and whispered to Madison, “She’s talking a mile a minute. You talk to her.”
“Gramma?” Madison squealed when she took the phone.
Gramma squealed right back. She explained how she’d been watching the Weather Channel like she always did from six to six-thirty on weeknights, when she saw something particularly peculiar on the travel report.
“There’s a great big mess of a snowstorm headed right for Far Hills!” Gramma exclaimed. “They said the name of the town and everything right there on the TV, would you believe it?”
Madison gasped. “A snowstorm?”
With phone in hand, she wandered over to the bay window in the living room, pressed her warm nose onto the cold window, and looked outside. All she could see were shadows on the porch from streetlights. No snow yet.
“Are you
sure
, Gramma?” Madison asked.
Mom called out from the other room. “She’s right! The Weather Channel has a special warning for our area.”
After Madison said good-bye to Gramma, she made a secret, secret wish.
“I hope we have a super-snow day tomorrow,” she said to herself. “Like the biggest snowstorm ever.”
Madison imagined giant white snowdrifts everywhere, with snow that kept falling even when she begged it to stop. No one would be able to go anywhere or do anything.
No school…
No math test…
And most important…
NO skating.
B
RRRING! BRRRING! BRRRING!
Madison opened her eyes. It was so dark.
She couldn’t feel her feet because they were buried down under the blankets on her bed. Her entire body was wrapped in the comforter like a mummy, so it took effort to roll over to see her alarm clock. It was 6
A.M.
Phin, who had been nestled on the floor inside the folds of an old blanket, jumped up on the bed. Madison heard her mom talking on the phone but didn’t hear exactly what she was saying.
Only the teeniest peek of light was coming in around the edges of her curtains. It was between night and morning, that just-before-dawn time when anything could happen.
“Madison?” Mom whispered from the doorway.
Madison’s eyes snapped shut. She pretended to still be asleep.
“Madison?” Mom said, a little louder this time. “I know you can hear me. That was the PTA phone chain. School is canceled today. There’s more than a foot of snow on the ground.”
“Mo-om?” Madison’s voice croaked. Her body tingled. She’d wished for a snow day, and now here it was.
Mom walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. A little more light was beginning to sneak in through the curtains, so Madison could see the soft outline of Mom’s face. She was smiling.
“Why don’t you sleep in for a little while, honey bear?” Mom said, tucking her in even tighter than before. “Sleep in, and when you get up, we’ll make waffles.”
Phin was walking around on the bed, with his curlicue tail in motion.
“Yum, waffles,” Madison said softly.
Mom kissed the top of her head and grabbed Phin, who was getting frisky like he wanted to go out. “I’m going to walk Phin before it gets any snowier. You close your eyes and go back to dreaming, Maddie.”
Unfortunately, the last thing Madison could do right now was sleep. As soon as Mom disappeared with Phin, Madison wriggled out of her mummy wrap and began tossing. The light was getting brighter and brighter because outside was getting whiter and whiter.
Madison jumped up and ran to the window.
Wow!
While she was sleeping, someone had dumped powdered sugar all over the neighborhood—or at least that’s what it looked like. No one from the city had plowed or driven on the street yet, so every patch of pavement was covered in white. And snow was still falling.
“Mooooooom!” Madison yelped as she tugged on her jeans and socks. She pulled them on right under her Lisa Simpson nightshirt and then threw a sweater on over that. “Mooooom!”
But Mom didn’t answer. She was outside with Phinnie.
Madison went into the back hallway to get her winter snow boots and laced them up tight, put on her green gloves and jacket, wrapped a scarf around her nose and mouth, tugged on her rainbow-striped woolen cap, and opened the front door.
Madison could see one set of people prints (Mom’s) and another set of pooch prints (Phin’s) going down the path toward the street.
“Mom? Phinnie?” Madison called out. Her voice echoed in the still morning air.
“Quiet, Maddie! Everyone can hear you!” Mom shushed her from up the street, hustling back home. She let go of the leash, and Phin ran as fast as his chubby little body would take him, all the way to Madison.
They wandered around outside for a little while longer, skidding across the soft snow. Madison brushed clumps of white off the tops of bushes. The snow was too soft to make snowballs. It disintegrated in her hands like flour.
Around the neighborhood, people had begun to wake up. Madison could see yellow lights burning in a few windows. The retired fireman who lived across the street was already up, shoveling his driveway. Way off in the distance, Madison could hear the vroom of a plow making its rounds. Soon the powdery street snow would be packed up against the curb.
“I can’t believe we don’t have school!” Madison said, grinning from ear to ear. She rubbed the bottoms of Phin’s paws, which were icy and wet. He was shivering.
“We should go inside,” Mom suggested.
Madison followed her up to the house. Along the way, she saw a row of icicles on their porch post and pulled one off. Clutching the icicle made her remember. Sucking on ice was something she used to do all the time in second grade, when she and Ivy Daly were best friends.
Second grade.
That time seemed so long ago from right now.
Madison moved an icicle into her mouth carefully so it wouldn’t stick to her lip. She remembered how Ivy once put two small icicles on her lips, letting them stick there and pretending to be a walrus.
Ivy used to be so good at making Madison laugh.
It’s a bad storm, folks.
Yes, indeed, up to two feet inland and a foot along the coast.
And we’re not done yet! Expect more snow this afternoon
.
Madison flipped the channels to see what other stations were saying about the weather. She couldn’t believe this snowstorm had dropped so much snow—and wasn’t over yet.
“It’s cold out there!” Mom said, moving the boots from a slushy puddle in the hall to the porch. “Let’s make some cocoa, too.”
“Mmm—yummy,” Madison said, nodding. She went to the cupboard and got the hot chocolate and the waffle mix. “Mom, it’s almost eight. Do you think it’s too early to call Aimee?”
“Not at all. Her father is probably over at the bookstore already,” Mom said. She was talking about Book Web, a bookstore and cybercafé that Aimee’s parents owned in downtown Far Hills.
Madison dialed, but the Gillespie line was busy.
She tried Fiona’s house next, but Mrs. Waters answered and said her daughter was still sleeping. “May I please leave a message?” Madison asked sweetly. Mrs. Waters said Fiona would call as soon as she woke up.
Madison dialed Aimee’s house for a second time. It was still busy.
There was a chance that Aimee was online, so Madison dashed upstairs to get her laptop computer. She’d get in touch with her BFF this way. Madison checked to make sure the wireless router had not conked out in the big snowstorm. Then she logged onto the TweenBlurt.com Web site.
The site home page was
swimming
with members.
Hotstuff76
Jessica_01
Qtpiegal2
BryanSarah
Peacenluvll
BalletGrl
Aimee
was
there! For someone who had only just learned about using computers, Aimee was on the Web more than anyone else Madison knew.
Madison sent a surprise message to her friend.
^
D
After Madison signed out of the conversation, she returned to the home page to check her e-mail. But before she could even select the MAIL key, someone else popped up on the screen to chat. Fiona!
<Wetwinz>: Hi Maddie
Madison saw that she had mail. Maybe she had a note back from Bigwheels.
Bigwheels hadn’t written, but there
was
e-mail from Dad.
From: JeffFinn
To: MadFinn
Subject: SNOW
Date: Tues 16 Jan 7:11
AM
What do you get when you cross Dracula with the snowstorm in Far Hills? Frostbite!
Hey, sweetheart, I’m here in Denver with Stephanie. Oh, boy, there’s so much snow there and here, I can’t even get a flight out until tomorrow. How is it there? How is Phinnie? He always hated walking in the snow because his feet got frozen.
Needless to say, I’m stuck here in Colorado. I will try to call or e-mail later on today. As soon as I get back, I’m taking you out for dinner and a movie, too. How does that sound? Write back to me.
Love,
Dad
Madison was a little sad about Dad’s not being able to see her this week, but the joy of the lucky snow day was taking over.
Nothing could get her down today. Madison was free as a bird. She’d watch a video for starters. Then she’d catch up with her friends later.
“Maddie?” Mom called to her from the other room.
Madison bit her lip. Something in the tone of Mom’s voice told her that she wouldn’t want to hear what Mom had to say.
“Maddie,” Mom said again, appearing at the bedroom door. “There you are! I’ve been calling you for five minutes.”
“I was online,” Madison mumbled.
“Well, I got this terrific idea and I need your help.”
There was that word Madison dreaded most:
Help.
“Help for what, Mom?” Madison asked cautiously.
Mom chuckled. “It’s nothing bad, so you can get that look off your face. I think it’ll be fun. I want you to come up to the attic with me and look around in the old boxes. I need some backup materials for the documentary I’m working on. I can’t find some of the paperwork, and I’m sure it’s up there.”
Madison buried her face into a pillow on her bed and then lifted her head up quickly again. “Help go through boxes? Today?” Madison asked.
Mom crossed her arms and smiled. “Today,” she said simply.
Madison knew what that meant.
No escape.
“W
HEN WAS THE LAST
time you were up here?” Madison asked as they entered the attic. It smelled like wet carpet from when there had been a leak last summer.
“Oh, I don’t know. I brought up all those cartons that had been sitting in my office. Those over there.”
Mom pointed to a few boxes with yellow labels that read
BUDGE FILMS
, the name of Mom’s production company.
“Then what are all
these
?” Madison asked.
She pointed to a mountain of other boxes in all shapes and sizes that were pushed up against one wall. Some were ripped on the sides, and others were covered in dust. No one had touched most of these boxes in years. In the middle of the floor was a half-open box with tinsel coming out. It was their Christmas ornament box. Mom still hadn’t put away all the decorations.
“You know, Fiona’s attic isn’t this messy, Mom,” Madison said.
“Well, Fiona just moved here from California. We’ve been here for a little while longer.”
“I guess,” Madison said, shrugging. She looked around some more.
On one wall of the attic, the sun glimmered in through a round window. One of the coolest-looking parts of the house was the attic window. Madison had never really noticed how beautiful it looked until just now.
“So what are we supposed to do?” Madison asked her mother.