Theater Phantom Mystery by M. M. Plott

Author:M. M. Plott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: bible, legend, theater, macbeth, freemasons, phantoms, masonic temple, blizzards, claustraphobia
Publisher: M. M. Plott

Chapter Fifteen

Going Home

The old man sprinted down the hall, and Abby followed. Sam and Patrick were already struggling with a large tree branch that had crashed through the lobby window. The wind was wailing, and snow was dumping inside. Quickly Patrick and Sam grabbed a large wooden bookcase nearby and slid it in front of the hole. Mr. Howard ran down to the basement and retrieved a large tarp, nails, and a hammer. The men worked intensely, barricading the opening.

It was four-thirty in the morning, and everyone was wide-awake except the new baby boy, who had slept soundly through all the excitement. Abby and Linda stood by the new mother. “Have you decided on a name for him yet?” Linda asked.

“Yes, I have. His name is Jack.”

Both girls smiled. “That’s our favorite uncle’s name. Well, he’s not my uncle, really,” Abby explained. “He’s Linda’s dad’s brother. But he’s my dad’s best friend and is very close to both of our families.”

After the men finished sealing off the hole, they took a seat around the table to drink hot coffee.

Mr. Howard leaned back in his chair. “I’ve witnessed many a storm that has outwitted the National Weather Service. Even with all their latest equipment and gadgets that predict weather patterns, Mother Nature has a way of overwhelming them. There’s no telling if a storm’s going to pull out and then decide to turn around and come back again.”

Static electricity was building up in the storm. The group felt their hair rise off their scalps. Linda’s long blond hair flew away from her head as she rubbed her hand through it. The blue liquid in the glass barometer rose higher in the spout.

“Yes sirree. I remember being told about the blizzard of 1888. A Friday the thirteenth. A blizzard much like this here one broke over the central United States. My granddaddy lived in Omaha, Nebraska, and winters there were rough. Trains couldn’t run for months at a time. Most people back then always watched for ‘the cloud.’ They described it as a single sooty cloud—dark-gray—drifting in a clear sky.”

Linda twirled her tea-bag string around her spoon. “I did a report on blizzards in fourth grade.”

Mr. Howard leaned back in his chair. “Well, January twelfth the sun shone, and the temperature rose nearly forty degrees. Children went off to school. My granddaddy had a bad feeling, so he wouldn’t let my dad and his sister go to school that day. Dad and his sister played outdoors close to the house. He said he could see the blizzard approaching across the open fields. A white wall rolled in, sucking up the snow, making it hard to breathe. They ran into the house. The wind shook the walls, almost knocking it off the foundation. The house went dark. My dad claimed he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Yep, many people died just feet from their own front door; that’s how blinding the blizzard was. This here one is bad too. I hope no one got stuck out in it.

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