THE SKIER

Winter comes to Glen Hartwell in midsummer, and people start dying.

It was the 22nd of January 2025. The day before, Donald Trump had been sworn in as evil fascist dictator of the United States. He had promised to solve the 'Canadian problem' by welcoming Canada into the Union as the fifty-first state of the United States. A kind offer that the Canadians seemed strangely reluctant to accept.
Sixteen thousand kilometres away in Glen Hartwell, in the Victorian countryside, they had been sweltering beneath one of the hottest summers on record. Sheila Bennett, a thirty-six-year-old Goth chick with orange-and-black striped hair, had left her window open, sleeping on top of the covers at the Yellow House, in Rochester Road, Merridale. Midway through the night, it unexpectedly turned cold. Waking up, shivering, Sheila got up to slam down the bedroom window, then got under the blankets for the first time in weeks and quickly fell asleep again.
By 6:50 AM, the mounting cold had awakened Sheila again, so, checking the clock, she got up and dressed in her police uniform. As Chief Constable, she was the second-top cop in the BeauLarkin to Willamby area. By seven o'clock, she was downstairs in the yellow-painted dining room of the boarding house, sneezing as she waited for breakfast.
"Mrs. M. can you turn the heating up?" asked the Goth chick.
"It's been on full since 6:15," said Deidre Morton, owner of the Yellow House. A short, sixty-something brunette, Deidre was obsessed with the colour yellow, which proliferated throughout the boarding house.
"Yes, we've both been up since shortly after six," said Natasha Lipzing. The oldest resident of the house at seventy-one, Natasha had never really shown her age ... until now. The Antarctic cold that had mysteriously swept over Glen Hartwell in the night seemed to have aged her twenty years.
"You ought to put on your overcoat," suggested Tommy Turner, a short, dumpy blonde retiree, who was rugged up in a seeming mountain of jumpers and coats.
"Actually, I do have a police overcoat," said Sheila, "but it's tucked away at the back of my closet somewhere. Strangely enough, after seven weeks or so of Hellishly hot weather, it never occurred to me that I might need to wear it." Getting up again, she said, "I'll go hunt it out while you're dishing up the grub, Mrs. M.."
"Grub?" asked Deidre angrily as Sheila departed. "I'll have you know I am a trained chef ... I do not serve grub!"
"I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it, Mrs. M.," said Leo Laxman. A Jamaican by birth, Leo was a nurse at the Glen Hartwell and Daley Community Hospital.
"No doubt about it, you're the best chef this side of Melbourne," mollified Freddy Kingston. Like Tommy, Freddy was a recent retiree; a tall, chubby man, bald except for a Larry Fine-style ruff of curly black hair.
A few minutes later, Sheila returned wearing a thick police-blue overcoat and carrying two more.
"Sheils, it isn't cold enough for three overcoats," said Terri Scott. A beautiful ash blonde, Terri was the top cop of the area, Sheila's boss, and Colin's fiancée.
"No, I stopped into your room to bring down yours and Col's coats too."
"Thank God," said Colin Klein, eagerly snatching his police overcoat from the Goth chick. At forty-nine, Colin was a retired crime reporter from England, now employed by the Glen Hartwell Police Department.
"Thank the Lord for mad Goth chicks," said Terri, quickly climbing into her police overcoat.
"I choose to take that as a compliment," said Sheila, sitting down to start eating a hearty breakfast of porridge and treacle, and two Vegemite crumpets.
Half an hour later, Terri, Colin, and Sheila got up to go to work.
"I've got the latest single by the Devil's Advocates to play while we drive," said Sheila. Opening the front door, she stared out in amazement at the snow-covered street and said, "Although perhaps White Christmas by Bing Crosby would be more appropriate."
"This is the second year running that Glen Hartwell has had a white Christmas," said Colin. "Yet it's not supposed to snow in this country."
"Technically it's four weeks since Christmas," said Terri.
Shivering, the three cops stepped outside, doing their best not to fall over on the slippery footpath and headed across to Terri's police-blue Lexus.
"Even so, snow in summer?" said Colin as they slipped, slid, walked across to carefully climb into the car.
"The Devil's Advocates have a song called 'Snow in Summer'," said Sheila. "It's about a mate of theirs who stupidly overdosed and died. I wish I'd thought to bring that one with me. So for now we can settle for, 'How Evil' by the Devil's Advocates.
After starting the car, Sheila clicked play on the CD player and it started to play the following:
"Just how evil is the Evil Empire?
"Just how sick are Trump's desires?
"Just how evil is the Evil Empire?
"How far will Putin and Trump conspire?

"Just how evil is the Evil Empire?
"Just how low will the U.S. go?
"Just how feral is America?
"Just how foul are Trump's desires?

"Can America beat the commonwealth?
"Just how evil is the United States?
"Will it overthrow all things decent?
"Can we beat Trump's Devils with stealth?

"Just how evil is the Evil Empire?
"Just how sick are Trump's desires?
"Just how evil is the Evil Empire?
"How far will Putin and Trump conspire?

"Just how evil is the Evil Empire?
"Will Trump start World War III?
"Will he put an end to democracy
"Will he set the whole world on fire?

"Just how evil is the Evil Empire?
"Just how sick are Trump's desires?
"Just how evil is the Evil Empire?
"How far will Putin and Trump conspire?"
-- Philip Roberts, April 2025

"Interesting," said Colin as the Lexus struggled to get traction upon the snow, "but since Trump only came to power, isn't it a bit early to talk about his evil desires?"
"Nope," insisted Sheila, then, "what the Hell is wrong with the Lexus?"
"We probably need snow chains to travel through this summer wonderland," said Terri.
"Have we got snow chains?" asked Sheila.
"Strangely enough, no ... since it never snows in Australia."
"Then what is all that white stuff in the street?" teased Colin.
"Anyway, we had a white Christmas in 2023," reminded Sheila. [See my story, 'The Iceman Cometh'.]

Over at neighbouring Brumby, people were happily playing in the snow that lined Burnley Street. Families built snowmen, a new adventure for parents and children alike. Other kids threw snowballs at each other. One or two more adventurous souls attempted to snowboard using dickdragger (short) surfboards. Or clamdraggers in the case of women.





THE END
© Copyright 2025 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia