The Blizzard Read Online Free PDF Page A

had instant glue, would you glue the runner together?”
    “Sure I would.”
    “Well, then, we’re going to spread this ointment on here, it’s very thick and sticky, and then we’ll wrap the runner with a bandage. In this cold the ointment will harden and pull your runner together. You’ll be able to drive to Dolgoye and home five times with a runner like this.”
    Crouper looked mistrustfully at the vial. The label read: VISHNEVSKY OINTMENT + PROTOGEN 17W.
    The doctor uncorked the top and handed it to Crouper:
    “It hasn’t had time to harden yet … Dip your finger in and spread it on the runner.”
    Crouper pulled off his mittens and took the vial carefully with his big hands, but immediately gave it back to the doctor:
    “Wait … Then we gotta put somefin under…”
    He swiftly pulled an axe out from beneath the seat, walked into the forest, chose a young birch tree, and began to hack away.
    The doctor set the vial down on the sled, stuck the bandage roll in his pocket, took out his cigarette case, and lit up.
    “It’s coming down hard…,” he thought, squinting at the whirling snowflakes. “Thank God it’s not all that cold, it’s not cold at all, really…”
    Hearing the sound of the axe, the horses began to snort under the tarp; the lively red roan whinnied delicately. A few other horses answered him.
    Crouper had felled the birch, chopped off a log, and sharpened it against the birch stump before the doctor had finished his papirosa .
    “There ye go…”
    Having completed his task, he returned to the sled, breathing hard, and deftly thrust the birch wedge under the middle of the right runner. The tip lifted slightly. Crouper brushed away the snow under it:
    “Now we’ll rub it on.”
    The doctor gave him the vial and proceeded to unwrap the bandage packaging. Crouper lay down on his side next to the runner and rubbed the ointment along the crack in the wood.
    “Just figures,” he muttered. “I run straight into tree stumps a coupla times, and nothin’ happens, but now, one bump and it might as well been a cleaver … Bloody damnation.”
    “Don’t worry, we’ll bandage it up and we’ll make it there,” the doctor consoled Crouper while he watched him work.
    The moment Crouper had finished, the doctor pushed him aside impatiently: “Come on, out of the way…”
    Crouper rolled away from the runner. The doctor, grunting, sat down on the snow and then heaved himself over on his side, adjusted his position, and began to skillfully wrap the bandage.
    “Now then, Kozma, you press the crack together and hold it!” he managed to gasp.
    Crouper grabbed the tip and pressed the sides together.
    “Excellent … excellent…” the doctor muttered as he continued to wrap the runner.
    “Gotta tie the ends up top, else it’ll get cut off on the bottom,” Crouper advised.
    “Don’t teach the teacher…,” the doctor wheezed.
    He wrapped the runner tight and even, tied the ends up top, and expertly tucked them under the bandage.
    “That’s the ticket!” Crouper smiled.
    “What did you expect?” roared the doctor victoriously. He sat up, panting, and banged his fist on the side of the sled. “Let’s go!”
    Inside, the horses neighed and snorted.
    Crouper knocked the wedge out from under the runner, tossed the axe on the footboard, took off his hat, wiped his sweaty brow, and looked at the snow-dusted sled as though he were seeing it for the first time:
    “Still, maybe we oughta go back, eh, yur ’onor, sir?”
    “N-n-n-no!” The doctor stood up and brushed the snow off his coat, shaking his head in an insulted, threatening gesture. “Don’t even dare think about it. The lives of honest workers are in danger! This is an affair of state, man. You and I don’t have the right to turn back. It wouldn’t be Russian. And it wouldn’t be Christian.”
    “’Course not.” Crouper plopped his hat on. “Christ be with us. Cain’t do without ’im.”
    “That’s right, brother.