Читать книгу We Who Survived - Sterling Noel - Страница 18

THE GROUP WENT OUT on the porch. The temperature had nose-dived twenty degrees since midnight and was down to 18 above zero. Gabe Harrow stood with a chronometer in his hand and called off the minutes.

“Two-eight,” he announced. “Temperature eighteen, wind about five knots from the West.”

Marge was shivering and I put my arm around her. “I’d better get my jacket,” she said.

“I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s in the hall closet—it’s black and has a beaver hood.”

I went inside and found the jacket, then hurried out.

Gabe intoned, “Two-eleven, temperature steady at eighteen. Wind freshening. About eight or nine knots, I would judge.”

“Thanks, darling,” said Marge as I helped her into the jacket. I kissed her and she clung to me closely.

“Two-twelve,” said Gabe. “Temperature seventeen. Wind at thirty knots at least. . . . My God it’s coming up fast!”

“The next announcement is it,” said Elaine.

We all waited without sound or movement. Marge dug her nails into my arm and I could feel her body quivering.

“Two-thirteen,” called Gabe. “No sign of snow. Temperature at sixteen. Wind now blowing half a gale.”

“No snow!” exclaimed Jack Osborne.

There was genera! movement in the crowd. Alice Wernecke said in a high voice, “Stop it, Tony!”

Suddenly several voices called in unison, “There it is! Snow!”

“Two thirteen and a half,” said Gabe loudly. “Well, Jack, we were thirty seconds off. . . . Must have been the wind.”