Prompt: Set your story during the coldest day of the year.
Into the Deep Freeze
Unquestionably, this was the coldest day I had ever experienced. I was literally chilled down to my bones. I could not feel my hands nor my feet. Other nerves in my body, however, were actively feeling the frigid air. The cold pierced my face as though I was a pin cushion. I morphed into a human iceberg. What made matters worse, I was surrounded in darkness. Pitch black darkness. I quickly understood the meaning of the total absence of light. My situation became more serious when I realized I was incapable of any movement. I was rigid like a board. My limbs were paralyzed. Even my chest was lacking the typical rise and fall of breathing. My mind began to conjure up all sorts of scenarios. How did I get here? In fact, where is here? Am I trapped in a landslide? Did I fall through ice in a lake plummeting straight to the bottom? Had I fallen into a sinkhole covered in a mountain of dirt?
None of them, though, could explain the unbearable, stark reality of the terrifying coldness and darkness. My perception of the cold magnified as time went on. The cold scrubbed my face like steel wool on skin. Much like a bicycle wheel in motion my mind raced in circular fashion around a single question. What happened to me? My mind was a torrent of raging anxiety. Despite my growing anguish I was not capable of sensing any rapid heartbeat or surging pulse. I prayed. I prayed again. Nothing. Where is God when you really need Him?
The fear of the unknown was not an abstract concept. It had become a reality for me. My thoughts were chaotic which obscured any reason toward understanding my predicament. Almost instinctively, I sought some solace, some respite from my childhood memories, or at least I had hoped. I recalled the time when I was a toddler making snow angels with my brothers and sisters. It was a fun activity for them but not for me. While I was making an angel, they heaped piles of snow upon me before I realized what was happening. Fortunately, dad was there to dig me out. I wondered where was my dad now to help me?
It was a really cold winter the year I was in sixth grade school. I remember the school faculty wanted to keep the students inside for recess, but the hard-nosed principal had other ideas. She demanded that all of us get some fresh winter air for a short time. It turned out to be an hour. Consequently, a few students ended up with frost bite on their nose (I was one of them). Two had frostbite on their ear lobes. And poor Billy ended up with hypothermia requiring an extended hospital stay. Thankfully, Billy recuperated later boasting how he managed to fenagle a fourteen-day vacation out of the school. After the school year the principal was fired. A few years later she took up a job working in Chicago for Mayor Bilandic coordinating snow removal during the 1978 blizzard. Yeah we all know how that turned out. Just ask Bilandic.
My mind drifted to my freshman year in high school. It so happened that the blizzard of 1978 was just getting started. School had not yet been canceled. The various cliques at school came to blows in a massive snowball fight. Everyone from geeks, to nerds, to jocks, to goths, to stoners (albeit it took them awhile to make snowballs and throw accurately) engaged in one extreme snowball hurling festival. It started out innocently enough but the intensity escalated well into the evening. Many students left all wet and covered in snow. Others left exhausted; a few (myself included) left with bloody noses and in tears. Some just gave up and trudged their way back home through the piles of drifting snow. Once school reconvened, every group declared itself a winner.
I had hoped my trip down memory lane would ease the burning cold I was feeling. My extremities were void of any sensation, but elsewhere my nerves continued to tell me otherwise. The darkness was still vividly dark. Not a pinpoint of light from anywhere. Time was at a standstill. I could feel my angst escalating again. Any hope I had was waning away. Perhaps if I moved away from frigid, winter thoughts, I might actually be able calm myself down.
I tried to conjure up memories of trips to warm, exotic places I had been. For the most part they ended up in some sort of problem. One trip I had taken to the Caribbean did not go well. On my first day I baked in the sun for several hours without making a conscious effort to cover myself entirely in sun tan lotion. Some rude tourists joked that I looked like a lobster mascot for the hotel restaurant. Severe sun poisoning hospitalized me for the duration of my trip.
Ok, this trip did not bring back heart warming thoughts. But my time in the Galapagos Islands was special. It certainly was warm and humid. For a moment I almost felt a pulse of warmth traversing my cold, stiff body. What I recall about the trip was more than just the temperature. It was one of those specialized and expensive geographic cruises. Nonetheless, the vision of the tropical terrain at the equator helped me to briefly forget my current situation, until I remembered the turtles (or more correctly the tortoises). I may have been the only person on earth to create a stampede of large tortoises chasing after a human being. Apparently, I had trespassed onto a large breeding ground. Hatchlings were scurrying about helter-skelter because of my intrusion. Their parents were not so amused. So the chase after me began; not just the tortoises, but the local authorities as well. Eventually I was caught at the waters edge by both groups. I became the largest booby (a flightless bird) in the Galapagos, but I was not a protected species that day. The local authorities had the final say as I was arrested and put on the next boat out of the islands. I could use a rescue now even if it would be the irate tortoises and conservation police.
It is still so cold, so very, very cold. Nothing has changed despite my mind drifting into past memories. My face feels like I have had several face peels all at once. The rest of my body remained inanimate and lifeless. But my aggravated nerves were daggers constantly tormenting me.
Perhaps I was dreaming this, but above my head a bright light appeared. There was a gush of air that blew over me. My frayed nerves detected a sliding motion. My eyes were blinded by the bright light now above my face. My limbs were still rigid. There were voices, but I was unable to see faces.
“When did he come in? Do you have any history on this fellow?”
“Yes, Reverend. He came in three days ago. The paramedics found him in the park on the ground near an extinguished campfire. From the looks of his torn clothes, I would say he was penniless and homeless. The paramedics determined he was too far gone from the hypothermia. Consequently, they pronounced him dead on the scene and sent him here for identification and disposition of the body. The coroner’s office was hoping someone would report him missing and identify his remains. No such luck. I called you hoping you would be willing to bury him in the church’s cemetery.”
“I will do just that. First can you dress him in decent attire? I think he is at least deserving of a respectable internment.”
“Ok Reverend. I have some old but clean clothes. I will need you to help me, however, I normally don’t do this. It is done by the funeral home.”
I felt my body being lifted. My arms and legs were raised and lowered but not by my own power. I could focus my eyes. Two men were dressing me. I was going to be okay!
“Okay, I think we will this do for a proper funeral Reverend. You can take the body now.”
I went berserk inside. No! You must not bury me! I tried moving my arm and legs but could not. With great effort I blurted out “God save me!” The voice resonated in the morgue. Both men looked dazed and awed by what they heard.
The technician said, “The man was surely dead and now he is alive? Reverend, how can this be? What should we do?”
“We give thanks to God this man lives. Here God demonstrates another miracle of His majesty. What you must do is to believe in His power or dismiss it. Be aware though it has everlasting consequences accepting or rejecting it.”
He continued saying, “The power of the Almighty God restores life to bodies that are considered dead. His faith in God has given him new life. This I know because God raised Lazarus from the dead. He raised Jairus’s daughter too. The Son of God raised Himself up from the dead after three days in the tomb. Death has been conquered by Christ forever.” His words were intended for the technician, but I pondered what he said.
With great effort I managed to get into the Reverend’s car to see the doctor for any treatment. The car radio was on. A weather alert was broadcasting that today had been the coldest day of the year. In fact, the report said it was the coldest day on record. The weather alert was describing for me a day like I was in the balmy Caribbean. I had taken my plunge into the deep freeze. The deep freeze of the mortuary cold box chamber, that is.
I remembered my life as a menagerie of disappointment. After hearing what the Reverend had told the technician, I fear death no longer as Christ had overcome it in the grave. What evidence do you need to believe?
“Why should any of you consider it incredible that God raises the dead?” (Acts 26:8, NIV)
Now the crowd that was with Him when He (Jesus) called Lazarus from the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to spread the word. (John 12:17, NIV)
While Jesus was still speaking, someone came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue leader. “Your daughter is dead,” he said. “Don’t bother the teacher anymore.” Hearing this, Jesus said to Jairus, “Don’t be afraid; just believe, and she will be healed.” When He arrived at the house of Jairus, He did not let anyone go in with him except Peter, John and James, and the child’s father and mother. Meanwhile, all the people were wailing and mourning for her. “Stop wailing,” Jesus said. “She is not dead but asleep.” They laughed at Him, knowing that she was dead. But He took her by the hand and said, “My child, get up!” Her spirit returned, and at once she stood up. Then Jesus told them to give her something to eat. (Luke 8:4955, NIV)
This man (Jesus) was handed over to you by God’s deliberate plan and foreknowledge; and you, with the help of wicked men, put Him to death by nailing Him to the cross. But God raised Him from the dead, freeing Him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on Him. (Acts 2:23-24, NIV)
NIV=New International Version
Author: Pete Gautchier
Acknowledgement: Reedsy.com
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