Episode 0 - The Snowman

By Anthony Botelho

Hey there, come on in! How was it, driving through all that? It’s awfully nice of you to come visit me, here in Nowhere, Ontario, ‘specially with you using your vacation time to do it.

I wish I could come around the city more often, but I don’t really get the time off. But hey, that’s why I came up here in the first place. Work work work…

Can I get you anything? Hah, some things never change. Let me grab that.

The steel mill? It’s alright, you know. Hard work, but what I do isn’t too monotonous. Pay is good, otherwise I wouldn’t be here!

It’s not really the job that gets me down, so much as the people living ‘round here. Don’t get me wrong, the folks up here are really nice--well, generally speaking. And the place has that old town charm, but it’s just so damn boring up here. Nothing to do in your off hours, especially right now with all this snow out there.

I’m drinking more than I should, but what else am I gonna do? I just sit in the bar and I gossip. I tell yah, I’ve become the biggest gossipmonger you could imagine. I’m ashamed of myself, but good god if I’m not hooked on it.

Some rumours? Oh, well, when you put me on the spot like that… Well there’s Dan Hunt and Pete Jefferson who live a ways down the road; they’re been getting into it over property lines and fencing. John and Sarah MacNair’s son has been getting pretty popular with the young girls, and some of the older ones too. And uhh.. oh, well, of course, there’s old man Delaney and his snowman.

You passed the mill on the way here, right? And you saw there’s a little house a couple hundred yards of the north face? Well that’s where old Kevin Delaney lives. Quiet guy, keeps to himself, nobody sees much of him. Not until this winter at least, so people tell me. Now you can’t pass the place without seeing him out there.

There’s this snowman out near the front of his house. Kind of a quarter of the way between his place and the steel mill, close enough that you can still make it out from the work site. Maybe you saw it from the road too, it’s pretty conspicuous. Anyway, it just popped up one night. Out of nowhere, really.

Now, there’s nothing too strange about a snowman. It’s a small town in the middle of the winter. Plenty of kids out there, rolling up the snow, going back in to beg their moms for a carrot. Only, just about every parent in this town has asked their kids about it and not one has fessed up to making it. I say fessed up, but really if I’d made a snowman like that as a kid I’d be telling the whole world. It’s a big thing, and well made, and in pristine condition. Of course, that’s the other thing. I’ve never seen a snowman that’s stayed in such good shape for so long--and it’s not just a city thing either, I’ve asked.

So, you’ve got this snowman out there. And you’ve got Kevin Delaney out there. And he just sits out there all day and watches the thing. He’ll pop inside maybe once or a twice a day--we assume he still has to eat--and go into town every now and then to get his groceries, but other than that he’s out there, eyes locked on that snowman.

Strange, yes, but nobody cared too much. Then, about… three weeks ago there was a bit of an incident. Folks had been telling their kids to stay away from it, and usually they tell them to stay away from the steel mill anyway. But like I said, it’s a really nice snowman. So one day, a couple kids from the town, they must of have just gotten out of school, came to check it out.

I was actually just driving by when it happened; I’d eaten something that really disagreed with with me, so I was headed home for an early day. I see the kids, and I see the snowman, and then out of nowhere I see Delaney sprinting through the snow. He starts screaming and yelling at these kids, and I mean really screaming.

He’s telling them to stay away, that they’re all little sneaks, and lots of stuff much worse  than that. So I got out my car, you know, try and calm things down. I get a a bit closer, and I see that the guy is practically foaming from the mouth. His eyes are bloodshot, veins bulging from his neck. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody get that mad before. He sees me walking up, and... well... he just gives those kids a look, gives me a look, and he walks back to his house. Not a word to me. Thank god for that.

I gave a kids a lift home, and told them they should probably stay away. They didn’t seem to have any protests about that.

I really got to thinking about it after that. There’s three shifts at the mill: the day, the evening, and the early morning swing. Plenty of us, including me every now and then, rotate, so you get to know most of the people who work there. I went about asking some people, and sure thing, all of them have seen the old man out there when coming in for their shift, going home, on break, on lunch. Just about any conceivable time that someone could be outside, they see him there on his porch. Sitting, watching.

So the next morning, I’m driving in to work and I see that he’s not out there on the porch. Probably against my better judgement, I decide that I want go and get a good look at that snowman. Didn’t seem like I’d get a better chance than that.

And… like I said, it was a pretty normal looking thing. Big though, bigger than I’d thought from seeing it further away. It was about as tall as me; maybe taller. Couple of black buttons running up the body, a few more along the face to make a mouth. A carrot that was bit wilted now, but that the cold was probably keeping from going off. Scarf, red, wrapped snugly around the neck. And, of course, two big pieces of coal for the eyes. No arms, though. Odd that. Plenty of good sticks around, and you’d have plenty of room to jam them in. You’d think, at least.

And another thing, you know how most snowmen are, yeah? Three big balls, one on top of the other. This one was more clumpy. Some distinct sections, sure, but more even all around. And the head was a bit smaller than you’d expect, more normally proportioned. I don’t know what had gotten into me, but I was about to take the scarf off to get a better look at the whole thing.

But right at that second, I felt an awful chill run down my spine and I turned around. Kevin Delaney was back on his porch, looking right at me. And you know, I didn’t see a bit of anger in his eyes this time. Just sadness and desperation. It’s like he was telling me “please, don’t” with his eyes. That there was nothing more in the world that he’d like more than for me to step away. So, I did.

I went on my way, and I haven’t bothered him since. He’s an old man you know, and he’s probably going stir-crazy like everyone else in this town. That snowman is probably just some current obsession, a hobby or something. I hope he finds a new one soon, though; it’s February now, and things have already started warming up.

But you know what, I heard from Joe down at the grocery store that his wife will be back soon. Apparently she’s been visiting relatives all winter. I bet he’ll be glad to see her.