The next morning Hobart was just donning the last of his gear when her heard a familiar voice behind him, “Hold up,” said Hobart’s mom,
…he turned around and spoke the words she’d need to hear, “I promise to be back home the minute—-,”
Hobart’s mom cut off his sentence by handing him a thermos & three metal camping mugs with the letters “G,B,D,” engraved on the front of each one. She leaned over, and kissing him on his forehead, said in her soothing voice,
“I know, just go & have some more fun in the snow! That has some hot chocolate for you & ‘the boys’.”
Hobart smiled as if he had just heard the most beautiful song ever & hugged her.
As he did so, she handed him a scarf, he examined it, and was a bit puzzled, it was a 4ft long piece of red cloth with the phrase “I’m gonna sing, in the middle of the storm…”
…it seemed to be cut off! He looked up at her, and she said,
“…should a blizzard ever hit, hum that lyric’s song! And when it gets to that line…”
“I’m gonna roar that into at the howling wind!”
His Mom endured an enthusiastic fist bump!
Inspired by his mom’s words he realized and said, “this scarf holds a power doesn’t it!?”
she grinned saying, “yes, now go ahead, don it with pride, but if you think it’s embarrassing…”
“No way!” He interjected! “I won’t let you down”
holding thermos & his mug in his left hand; Ben & Dean’s mugs in his right, and after putting on his scarf he grabbed a couple of snow chains for his bike, opened the door, took a deep breath,
“Time to saddle up, and get to work!” Heading over to the garage, he went straight for his bike! It was always ready for his use! He put the thermos & mugs into his bike basket, applied the snow chains, hopped on & raced to the site!
As a they arrived at the path that led to their snow fort, their eyes filled with horror! There in the snow were tracks coming from the direction of Brock’s place.
They hitched into high gear, and hearts pounding they raced toward their little encampment! Hobart felt a tear in his eye that ran down his cheek, hoping against hope!
As they rounded the last bend, they saw him! Brock! He was jumping up and down on the roof! At first it sounded like maniacal laughter, but it was quickly changing to frustrated whimpering! They shouted…
“Brock! Why would you!?!”
Brock looked in their direction, and ran from the spot, putting on his highest speed he high tailed it off in the direction of town.
Heavy hearted Ben, Dean and Hobart plodded up to the door and looked in… all clear! The roof was a solid dome of ice! Impenetrable! Brock must have been more frustrated than he’d been ever! Ha! It only took a few minutes to pile some fresh snow over the bits that Brock had packed down.
Just as they paused, his two friends asking about his bike basket,
“Oh! Yeah! Mom has furnished us with some refreshments!” That’s when they heard a sudden YELP! And the sound of branches, snow and snapping timbers.
Ben put on his snowshoes, Dean quickly put on his cross-country skis, and since Hobart already had on his trusty, moccasins they all were soon headed in the direction of the noise they’d heard. Coincidentally it was the same direction Brock had disappeared into. They started down a steep hill, so naturally, Dean zipped ahead of them, and made a nice stop, sending a shower of fresh powder snow into the air, just at the crest of the Big Dipper’s topside. He slipped off his skis, went down on his stomach, and peered over the edge. There was Brock!
“Hey, Brock! You alright there buddy?”
Brock looked up at Dean, “Hey… I’m sorry, ok?”
Dean shook his head, and rolled his eyes a bit, “Hey, no worries! Are you ok?”
Brock gave him the two thumbs up, and as he tried to move, he gave out another loud YELP… by this time Ben and Hobart had arrived, and looking over the top of the crest, they looked down on Brock. His leg as in a pretty weird position, not the least bit natural!
“Hang on there Brock!” they all shouted, then retreated a few feet back, and without need to discuss, they looked in Hobart’s direction.
“OK! Dean, you are swift as a deer on those things, so you go get Mr. Marchenko, or anybody that you can find, and bring them here.” Hobart said with a high five and a fist bump. Dean donned his skis and was off like a shot!
Hobart then turned to Ben, “OK! You high tail it back to the Quinzhee, and get the sleigh, blankets, and the hot chocolate!”
“You got it Macky Mack!” Ben replied, high five and a fist bump, and away he sped.
Hobart once again lay flat on his belly, and peered over the edge Brock, “Hey, help is on the way, ok?”
Ben, of course, was the first to arrive back once again, and he also had that rope they’d always had stowed in the tree fort. “Good thinking my man!” Hobart shouted as he held out his hand for the rope.
He quickly tied one end of the rope to the nearest, strongest tree, and tied the other end around his waist. He held out his hand for the things he’d need.
“OK! Once I get down there, you put these things inside the blanket, and send the bundle down with the rope!”
“Right!” Ben agreed.
Hobart repelled his way down the steep cliffside, a little way to the south of Brock’s position. Once on the ground he unfastened the rope, and gave it a yank for Ben to pull it back up. He headed over to Brock, and began reassuring him.
“Not gonna lie, Brock, that leg’s gonna take some fixin!” he said with a little chuckle.
Brock just moaned, and once again apologized about the Quinzhee.
“We’ll talk about that later,” Hobart assured him, “for now we gotta get you stabilized and ready to rock and roll!”
He untied the rope from the blanket, and tipped out its contents on the little ledge. He wrapped Brock as best he could, and poured some hot chocolate for each of them. Brock moaned and yelped!
“Don’t move!” Hobart cautioned him!
He helped him sit up, but was careful to leave the leg stationary.
Soon they heard the sounds of a fire engine’s loud siren in the distance, and Hobart wondered as he held his ear up to the wind. “Maybe Dean’s gone for the big guns!” he thought out loud.
There on the base of the ridge, just below them, stood four fire fighters, a ladder, Mr Marchenko, and Dean.
The next thing he knew, Brock was being gently awakened by the nurse, and told he needed to take his medicine. He’d slipped into a deep sleep soon after the fire fighters had tucked him into the evacuation cot, and he had awakened until after the surgeon had reset his leg, put in a cast, and sent him to the recovery room.
Brock was a little dazed, but not just because of his body trauma! He wondered about these three boys that he was constantly tormenting! They’d saved his life!
Running Down Vimy 