The Precious Touch - Part 4

by Gildsoul

Copyright 2000, by Gildsoul

This is the fourth chapter of this tale; to read the previous part, click here.

Part 4: The Great Alaskan Winter Festival Ice Sculpture Contest...
The love struck couple arrived at the local airfield around 10:00 AM and boarded Carl’s lavishly furnished private jet. Soon they were airborne, the converted Boeing jetliner heading north towards Alaska and new adventures.Pamela nuzzled Carl as they reclined in a leather couch built into the wall of the walnut paneled private cabin, both enjoying a glass of champagne brought from the galley by a steward. The low sound of the jet engines and soft music merged in the background as the couple caressed each other and looked deeply into each other's eyes.Pamela nibbled his ear and whispered, “Honey, the trip will take a couple of hours, to pass the time could you turn me into gold?”

Carl thought for a moment, having a private pilot's license and knowing something about aircraft.

“Well Honey, I’d be willing to do it but the floor of the plane would buckle from the weight, and unbalance its center of gravity.” Carl whispered back, “But I have an idea...”

Minutes later the steward reentered the cabin to retrieve the empty bottle and glasses. Everything seemed normal; Carl was sitting alone on the sofa reading the financial times, Miss Eclair laying in one of the recliner seats, a blanket over her face, taking a nap. The steward did notice that Miss Eclair seemed to be a bit shiny, but dismissed it as a trick of the light.

After the steward left Carl walked over to the “sleeping” Pamela, removed the blanket and tapped the hard surface of her face with a fingernail to the sharp clicking sound of plastic. Pamela’s Chanel #5 scent was gone, replaced by the odor of vinyl plastic, like the smell of a new car interior, her new perfume was lovely, an essence of the plastic and synthetic polymers she had become. Pamela was a life-sized doll, having been tuned entirely into plastic.

Over time he had become more skilled in his precious touch, gaining the ability to transform objects into mixtures of desired substances. He had touched lovely Pamela and thought of plastics, of her becoming a doll. Instantly her lovely body had become a lightweight hollow plastic shell of rigid, smooth and glossy flesh colored vinyl plastic. Sensuous red painted lips on her lovely shiny plastic face; eyes orbs of colored acrylic. Her ravishing blonde hair was even more lustrous and radiant as each strand of hair had turned to the same glossy nylon plastic fiber used on dolls.

“This is so cool, I’m really a doll!" Pamela’s silly laugh in his mind. “When I was a little girl I had all sorts of dolls I played with. Who would think I would someday actually become a doll myself! I feel so light, it’s awesome!”

“I was planning on trying this kind of transformation, keeping your weight down for the flight was a concern.” Carl replied as he stroked her lovely cheek, feeling the ultra smooth plastic surface against his skin, it had a sheen like polished ivory. He pushed aside some of the satiny locks of nylon hair framing her flawless vinyl face. Like an actual doll the plastic fibers clustered near the scalp into numerous bundles each of which were stitched through hundreds of orderly spaced holes in the vinyl shell of her head.

“Carl will you play dolly with me?” Pamela cooed, “Playing with dolls is fun, I’m your doll, play with me!”

There was a seam all around the base of her head were it joined to her neck. Turning her head back and forth, it slid smoothly with a soft sound of smooth plastic surfaces rubbing together. Pulling on her head, there was a pop of a plastic socket detaching and he was holding a life sized doll's head in his hands.

“Whoa, that was a strange sensation!” Pamela’s mind laughed to him. “Go ahead, it’s kind of funny to feel my head apart from my body, wow, what a head trip!”

The top of her neck even had a translucent white polyethylene plastic socket heat welded to the vinyl, just like an actual doll!

Carl remembered as a child teasing his sister by dismantling her favorite doll to see how it was made, even though he put it back together unharmed, he got in trouble with his parents. He had done it partly out of a 10 year old's spite, but mostly from an insatiable curiosity about how things were constructed; disassembling and reassembling all sorts of things, from clocks, machinery, his and his sister's toys. If he hadn’t become a business tycoon he would have no doubt become a scientist or an explorer. Pamela was identical in construction to the dismantled toy he had examined as a child, except now instead of being 8 inches tall, she was a gorgeous 5 feet 8 inches tall.

He turned over her head and looked inside the hole where her neck fit. He could see past the matching socket in the base of her head into the inner part. A hollow shell of vinyl plastic, the plastic odor even stronger, faint amber light shining through the translucent plastic illuminating the hollow mirror image of her inside-out face.

Inside, in hundreds of evenly spaced rows the tied off ends of nylon bundles forming her hair stuck through the vinyl scalp where they had been sewn in at the factory assembly line. Or would of been if the doll hadn’t been the product of magic.

Scrunching his fingers together he was barely able to push his hand through the hole in the socket, reaching inside her head. He could trace the internal contours of the hollow shell of her head, feeling her inside out facial features, touching the smooth nubs of the nylon hair bundles inside her scalp.

"Neat!" Exclaimed Pamela’s mind. “This is so weird, I can feel your hand inside of my hollow head, I’m really an airhead!”

He placed Pamela’s vinyl head back on her neck and pushed, there was another pop and the sockets seated back in place, she was whole again.

“That was a disconnected experience!” Pamela laughed. “Try something else!”

Carl unbuttoned Pamela’s blouse revealing her smooth plastic torso, easily lifting her lightweight body up to slide off her clothing. As her satin blouse slid off, the sheer fabric clung to her glossy surface with a soft crackle of static electricity. The cool dry air in the pressurized cabin allowed a static charge to build as the cloth rubbed against her hard plastic body. He removed her skirt and pantyhose, slowly pulling them off so an electrostatic charge could grow; deliberately causing static cling so the fabric would adhere slightly as it slid off.

He reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, revealing both breasts as smooth nipple free mounds; she was a doll after all. Her panties were removed next, there was no vagina between her legs, all was smooth featureless plastic, it was very, very sexy.

Her torso was in one piece, even with a faint seam up her sides from the injection molding machine in the toy factory were she had been or would of been produced. Her arms and legs appeared to be attached to her torso with the same polyethylene ball and socket design as her head Pulling on an arm, it came out of the socket with an identical popping sound. The end of the arm had a translucent white polyethylene ball joint that fitted into a polyethylene socket inside her shoulder. He put the arm back in place pushed, with a pop it clicked back in place.

Carl picked up the delicate blouse and folded it carefully, then began to rub the area between her legs softly, feeling a skin tickling static charge building on her glossy vinyl body.

“Ohhh Yesssss, Ohhh, Yesss!!” Pamela exclaimed, “I can feel the electricity as you rub me, charge me up my darling!”

One hand rubbed the area were her sex had been, the other holding her skirt rubbed the rest of her torso; creating a familiar electrifying, popping and snapping of static electricity.

Pamela came again and again as tiny sparks shot from her surface to Carl making the hair on his forearms stand on end. As he rubbed her beautiful doll body he remembered in high school science class how the teacher demonstrated electrostatic charges by rubbing plastic and amber rods with cloth. He also remembered that amber produced one of the strongest charges; amber, he noted that fact for future reference.

After several minutes of electrified bliss Pamela telepathically asked for the pleasure to take a new direction.

“When you took off my head it was so incredible!” Pamela tittered in his mind. “Take me apart, all of me, I want to experience total disassembly!”

At that moment he cabin floor shifted slightly, the pitch of the engines changed and the 'fasten seatbelts' sign lit; the plane was starting its landing decent.

“Sorry honey, later.” He replied, “We’re about to land in Fairbanks, you’re going to have to remain an all together person. I’ll put on your clothing and seatbelt for you.”

The jetliner taxied to a stop on a aircraft parking area off to the side of the runway, throttled down it’s engines to a low rumble and locked it’s brakes. A stairway was rolled up to a passenger door and the hatch swung open. Carl walked out into the bitter Alaskan winter; snowflakes kicked up by the wind sparkled past him in the chill glow of the winter sun. His breath made visible puffs of ice fog as the subzero arctic air pulled the warmth from his skin with a biting sharpness. Carrying Pamela, to observers she appeared to be curled up, asleep in his arms, bearing her featherweight doll form with effortless grace as he walked down the steps to the waiting limousine,

Carl sat the life-sized doll in her seat, rotated her ball and socket joints into a sitting position and put on her seat and shoulder belt. All the while Pamela’s mental giggling echoed in his head as she laughed at the humor of the situation. He had a big smile as he laughed with her, this was turning out to be a fun trip!

The limo driver glanced back at Pamela and blinked, his eyes must be playing tricks, the girl looked very stiff, too stiff!

The limo driver had a strange feeling about the passenger behind him all during the ride to the hotel. Glancing back occasionally at her though the rear view mirror, good looking, a real doll, sitting absolutely rigid and unmoving in an unnatural way. He parked in front of the hotel, the hotel bellboys rushing up to assist his passengers. Glancing back a final time he blinked, the doll was suddenly up and moving, looking normal as it, or she, climbed out of the vehicle with the male passenger. He shook his head; it was time to make an appointment with an eye doctor.

Several hours later Carl and Pamela walked side by side down the side street cutting through the Fairbank ice park the day before the start of the annual winter festival. Along both sides of the walkways numerous artists were putting finishing touches to rows of ice displays being entered in the the centerpiece of the festival, an ice art contest, .

It was a warm day for this time of year, only a few degrees below zero, both were bundled comfortably in fashionable winter clothing as they admired the icy works of art glinting brightly in the cold light of the late afternoon. The ice sculptures were carved out of giant multi-ton blocks of crystal clear ice, the huge blocks having been moved and stacked in their proper places by heavy equipment.

Carl stopped suddenly, recognizing an artist sitting dejectedly on a ice block platform next to a jumble of ice shards, disgust on his face.

“Hello Larry!” exclaimed Carl, “Why the sad face?”

The despondent sculptor stood up; half smiled then his face returned to a frown. “There was an accident with a tractor backing up, my entry was knocked over and smashed, no time to finish a copy by the deadline!” Larry shook his head and sighed.

“Bummer!” Carl replied, “What was the ice sculpture of?”

“Oh it was going to be a bathing beauty sitting on this pedestal, it’s now a pile of ice chunks.” The artist pointed towards fragments scattered on the ground.

Carl began to get that thoughtful look when he came up with a brilliant idea to save the day; he had become wealthy because of his problem solving abilities.

“Larry.” Carl said, “How would you like it if I could guarantee there will be a ice sculpture of a bathing beauty here by tomorrow mornings deadline?”

“Sure Carl, but I don’t see how it’s possible, even working the rest of the evening and all night wouldn’t be enough time!”

“Larry, it’s me, you know I always find a way, you should know that, call it a day and have faith, you might be surprised.”

Larry looked quizzically upwards, shrugged, spread his hands in assent and left.

“Carl, who was that?" Pamela asked after the man had walked off.

“Oh that’s Larry Takashi, a friend of mine and probably one of the most brilliant mining engineers in the world. I bought the rights to several patents of his; the royalties made him a multimillionaire several times over. He has a mansion just outside the city, loves Alaska, spends free time doing art and occasionally consults for me. In fact he is going to look over some mining property while I’m in town.”

“The next question, how are you going to create an ice sculpture in time?” Pamela asked.

Carl smiled with a mischievous grin, looked at Pamela and winked.

Pamela first had a quizzical look on her face, when it began to dawn on her what Carl meant, she began to smile.

“Oh I see, so you want me to be the replacement ice figure and enter me in the contest!”

Amused at the idea Pamela put on a feigned look of someone pondering a question. “Humm, turn me into a statue made of frozen water and enter me in an ice sculpture contest, should I? Hummm, well...Sounds like fun, lets do it!”

Carl grabbed a snow shovel from a pile of Larry’s tools and cleared the pile of ice chips away from the base, while Pamela took a whisk broom and brushed off the top of the ice block pedestal.

“You realize this is probably the first time in history that a statue has helped prepare it’s own pedestal!” Pamela exclaimed cheerily.

Finishing, they checked over the large block of crystal clear ice one last time. Carl noted its exact location in his mind, satisfied with their preparations they left for an evening of festivity.

Winter days near the arctic circle are very short, night falling early, the subzero temperatures dropping so low that even the hardiest native will be forced inside. The artisans laboring on their ice sculptures finished as soon as possible, around 10 o’clock the contest site was abandoned.

In their hotel room Carl kissed Pamela one last time.

“Everyone should of gone home by now, time to put our entry on its pedestal!”

It was quite a contrast, Carl dressed in a winter parka, Pamela wearing a very skimpy summer bikini as she sat on a table in a sensual pose as if sunning herself at the beach. Carl touched her lightly and visualized himself standing next to the ice block pedestal, with Pamela positioned on its top. He had thought it all out carefully, both teleported, materializing perfectly in their assigned locations, Carl next to the ice pedestal and Pamela posed atop the bare top of the ice block. Instantly before Pamela had time to even react to the chill air and frigid ice Carl thought of her being clear ice and swiftly pulled his hand away from her shoulder.

There was absolute silence, except for the faint sound of a chill night breeze and Carl’s gasp of wonder.

Pamela was a statue of crystal clear ice posed atop her icy pedestal, glittering in the pale light of a full moon and the dim glow of distant streetlights. Looking perfectly at place among the other frozen sculptures!

“Ummm, it feels so marvelous!” Pamela’s voice tinkled in his head, even her mental voice was icy. “It’s almost feels like being glass, but chilling in a very pleasant way, I feel like ice, the hardness, the coldness, it’s so, so cool! Ummm, Ohhhhh, Yessss, it Feells sooo Gooood!!!”

Carl stayed for several more minutes admiring the masterpiece until the unbearable cold forced him to teleport back to the warmth of the hotel room.

Now she was alone, just one of many other sculpted shapes of rock hard frozen water standing motionless in the frigid silence of an Alaskan winter night. She could feel the light breeze becoming colder, chilling her rigid ice form with a subzero frostiness; the deeper the cold the greater the frigid pleasure became. Hours later, around 1 o’clock in the morning it was 20 degrees below zero with the temperature still decreasing. She moaned with joy as the strange and new erotic pleasure of freezing coldness grew in intensity with the descending temperature. As her body temperature plunged from just below freezing to subzero temperatures her ice body became harder and harder until it was like clear flint glass.

She could see an beautiful vista of a winter wonderland, other ice sculptures, an enchanting full moon, twinkling stars and the glowing northern lights in the sky. It was so peaceful, so quiet and so erotic being a living ice crystal in the artic stillness. Just before dawn when the temperature reached 40 degrees below zero, Pamela came and came again in an icy orgasm that had increased in intensity with the decreasing temperature.

In the faint light of dawn, when the night’s temperature is at it’s lowest she cried out telepathically in absolute pleasure, savoring the extraordinary sensual feeling of subzero existence.

Her mental shout of joy was so strong it woke Carl from sleep in his hotel room miles away. Upon awakening he realized that his erotic dreams had been a mental link from Pamela, allowing him to experience a portion of her frozen joy. He wished he could of created an ice statue of themselves as lovers copulating, but the contest was G rated, and he had business to attend to, thus unable to join her. He decided to have a large walk in freezer installed at his mansion for future experimentation.

As the sun began to peek above the horizon the glacial cold bottomed out, easing as the sun’s rays slowly raised the temperature to only a few degrees below zero.

It was the opening day of the world ice art championships, visitors began to arrive in droves, walking along the paths in the ice park among the displays. Carl arrived early to see how Pamela looked in daylight. The cloudless sky was a deep polar blue, the snowscape a brilliant glaring whiteness requiring sunglasses. Walking down one of the paths among the ice sculptures Carl noticed that the crowds seemed to thicken as he approached Pamela’s location. Around her a large knot of people were gathered muttering excitedly amongst themselves, gazing at the stunning figure before them. Judges were present, from the looks on their faces and the pointing Carl guessed that Pamela was in the running for first prize.

He had brought a camcorder and 35 mm camera to record Pamela’s appearance so both could enjoy home movies of the ice contest when they returned home to the mansion.

“Ohhh! They sure like me!” Pamela’s icy mental voice echoed in Carl’s mind. “I always ask, honey, but how do I look?”

“Marvelous, just marvelous!” Carl espered back to her.

Carl began filming, she was flanked on both sides by rows of sparkling ice sculptures, intricately carved into whimsical animals, people, cars, buildings and whatever else the artists had imagined.

Unknown to Carl, an unhappy individual stood watching from the sidelines, plotting in a devious manner.

Marty suppressed his anger; somehow Larry Takashi had been able to finish his entry, even after he had arranged the accident with a tractor, destroying the first statue. He was determined that his own entry would win first prize, Larry’s creation jeopardized his chance. Perhaps another accident could befall the competeing statue, the crystal clear ice was so brittle, so fragile and so vulnerable. He would have to wait till the cover of darkness when the park was closed to commit a little act of vandalism. He turned and left seething in anger.

Pamela savored the appreciation from the crowds of visitors, entertaining people while being on public display was a phenomenal new aspect of being a statue she had not considered. Instead of being a visual delight only for Carl, she was on display for everyone’s enjoyment, enhancing the pleasure of being a statue. After her residence in the ice park was over and they returned home she would beg him to turn her into marble or bronze and place her in an art gallery for a while.

The short winter days last for a few hours, soon the ruddy glow of sunset gave everything an orange cast and the air began to cool with the approaching night. With nightfall hundreds of colored spotlights were switched on illuminating the park with rainbows of colors. The sculpture to the right of her was lit with a reddish spotlight, the statue to the left with yellowish light, she in turn was bathed in a cobalt blue spotlight. Pamela liked the sensation of blue light passing through her transparent ice body, even the color of light had a distinct flavor, blue matching her wondrously cool feeling.

Around 10:45 the last of the spotlights were shut off by the last remaining employee on his way out of the closed park, plunging it into darkness. Out of the deep shadows a figure moved towards Pamela, soon Marty stood before the icy masterwork, considered his options. A few swings with the crowbar he had would reduce the statue to a pile of ice shards. Or he could simply topple it off the pedestal and allow it to fracture to pieces against the ground.

Pamela saw the mysterious figure approach, stopping in front of her, her estacy ebbing slightly when she noticed the menacing crowbar in his gloved hand. She wasn’t afraid, she knew that whatever could happen, Carl’s magic could restore her. No, she was slightly irritated at whoever would disturb her solitude.

Raising his metal crowbar to swing downward at Pamela’s breakable ice crystal perfection he stopped in midswing, the crowbar paused just inches from striking.

Pamela was slightly annoyed when he raised to metal tool to take a swing.

“Why that vandal is going to shatter me!” Pamela thought, “How dare he! Though, being shattered into a pile of ice cubes might be a unique new experience.” Pamela thought, not caring if she remained whole or shards of ice, incapible of fear, feeling joyous anticipation at the impending splintering blow.

Simply smashing the sculpture would be too crude, he had to think of an imaginative way of removing it from the contest. Looking around he noticed a utility building nearby; he got an idea. Moments later he was using the crowbar to pry open one of the doors; succeeding in forcing the lock he entered the building. Inside there was an emergency firehose, he unspooled the hose out the open door to it’s full length. Taking several wood benches, clamps and rope from the storage room he stacked the wood in a crude A-frame and tied the nozzle of the hose to it so it was pointing upwards at an angle towards Pamela. He turned the handle on the valve, slowly increasing the water flow to maximum. The fountain of water from the hose shot high through the super cold arctic air, arcing downwards as a rain of icy droplets. Marty checked his aim; perfect, the downpour of ice water rain was landing right atop his target. Laughing at his mischief he made a hasty retreat.

The water drops cooled to the freezing point as they rushed through the subzero air, becoming a man made ice storm, freezing rain, turning to ice upon contact with any surface. A layer of clear ice glaze built rapidly on Pamela, her pedestal and an area several feet around her. Within a few minutes a smooth coating of ice over an inch thick covered everything under the frosty torrent.

“Wow! this new sensation, I like it!” Thought Pamela as she felt the layer of ice coating increase in thickness. The solid ice sheath covering her felt cozy, embracing her like a cold hard blanket.

“I’m made entirely of frozen water, and the ice surrounding me is also frozen water, when does me end and the ice covering start, we’re both the same substance?”

Pamela pondered the philosophical question. “I’m ice, inside ice, is there is any difference?”

She thought about it for a moment more, then the question faded as the pleasure turned her thoughts towards enjoying this new delight.

Pamela’s shapely form gradually became indistinct under the enlarging ice sheath, icecycles forming on her, growing until their tips touched the layer coating the pedestal, becoming rows of ice columns. After an hour the ice columns had disappeared under a thickening mantle of clear ice over a foot thick. The night air continued to drop in temperature, as the miniature ice storm poured down upon the growing pillar of frozen water. During the long nighttime hours under the relentless deluge of ice water, Pamela, the pedestal and the building layer had merged into a huge edifice of featureless ice.

Just after dawn an arriving park workman discovered the vandalism and shut off the water, by then it was far too late.

Carl walked towards Pamela’s spot, once more a large knot of people were gathered ahead, no doubt admiring her icy beauty as much as he did. Coming closer, he noticed several policemen in the crowd, something seemed wrong, he sped up to a jog.

Carl gasped; where Pamela had been there was a huge sloping smooth surfaced pillar of transparent ice glinting in the early morning light like a gigantic rounded iceberg!

“What happened, officer?” Carl asked one of the police officers breathlessly.

“Last night someone broke into one of the park buildings, took a fire hose and set it up so it would cover the statue of a bikini girl with a sheet of ice, probably a prank by some teenagers.” The officer spoke without even looking up as he wrote out a report on a clipboard. “ The water must of been running all night, the ice must be several feet thick! Too bad -- that bikini girl most likely would of won first prize!”

He couldn’t see any sign of her, he realized, she was crystal clear ice embedded in crystal clear ice! Invisible; if they were to try and chip away the surrounding ice how could anyone tell where the ice ended and Pamela began, which ice was her, which was the coating?

Suddenly, there was the roar of a diesel engine and the clattering sound of heavy machinery, Carl looked past the crowd to see a large bulldozer rumbling down the pathway. The police shooed everyone away as the bulldozer turned and moved towards the giant pillar of ice holding Pamela prisoner. Lowering its large scoop the bottom edge of the metal blade grabbed at the base of the iceberg with a brittle cracking sound.

Carl stood helplessly as the base of the huge mass of ice broke free of the ground with a crash of breaking crystal; the steel blade slid under it then lifted upwards. The ice stack tottered for a second on the edge of the blade then tipped over into the raised maw with a thud. Holding the mammoth glacial object aloft the bulldozer drove away, Carl following on foot. The bulldozer drove out of the park to a waiting dump truck, dumping the pillar into the truck bed. Once the load was deposited in the truck it’s engine revved up and it drove off down the road, a furiously running Carl losing sight of it as it turned at an intersection and vanished.

Pamela, her hard ice form comfortably embedded in equally hard ice was aware of the movement, hearing the muffled sounds, feeling the shocks and vibration of her journey. The ice pillar was lying on it’s side as it jiggled against the steel floor of the truck, small chips occasionally breaking off. She was thoughly enjoying the new adventure, originally she was to spend a few peaceful days on display but now this happy surprise!

The truck drove out of the city outskirts to the edge of a small cliff overlooking the nearby Tanana river and backed up slowly. At the base of the cliff a jumbled clutter of broken ice floes lay on the shore of the deep frozen river. There was the hiss of hydralics as the bed of the dump truck inclined and the rounded pillar of ice rolled out. Tumbling through the air it smashed down upon the jagged slabs of thick river ice, there was a loud crash as the tons of ice struck with immense force. The ice shell, ice pedestal, ice Pamela and the ice slabs underneath the point of impact shattered like glass into countless shards scattering and bouncing in random patterns.

The bed of the truck lowered, there was a squeak of brakes and the sound of the truck’s engine fading into the distance, leaving nothing but silence.

The vast assemblage of jagged ice glittered in the bright sun, sparkling like a field of diamonds set amid the snowscape. The largest ice fragments were only a few inches across, mingled with and indistinguishable from similar shards spread along the frozen shore in countless numbers. Even a witness to the impact would be unable to tell which pieces of ice were part of the shattered pillar or part of the river ice.

“Wow, that was a shattering experience!” Pamela thought as she lay as uncountable numbers of ice chips spread across several dozen yards. “It kind of tickles being nothing but ice chips!”

Because the nature of the magical enchantment she felt no distress or discomfort in her fragmented state, in fact excited at the novel sensations the turn of events had brought!

“I’m ice chips!” She giggled mentally. “If someone were to gather me up they could use me to serve drinks!”  In her mind came the image of being ice cubes in a open freezer at a party. Bartenders putting her ice fragments into glasses, pouring liquor into them and serving the iced drinks to party goers.

“You could make a couple of hundred drinks with me!” She chuckled at the notion. “They could name a new drink after me, Pamela on the rocks, only I’m the rocks!” The thought of becoming cold refreshments only made her orgasm increase in intensity.

Carl had to use his financial clout to force the officals to tell him whom had ordered the removal of the ice pillar and it’s present location. Being a powerfull billionare finally brought action after he reminded several local and state politicians that the money going into specific campaign contribution funds might just dry up.

“Sir, that’s the city employee who drove the dumptruck, he’s named Johnny Rhednech.” The city manager nerviously pointed to the truck driver sitting at the bar in a local tavern.

Carl introduced himself and went to the the most important question. “The load of ice you drove from the park with this morning, where did you put it?”

“Well, I think it whus somewere near tha river, can’t quite remember exactly where. Why you whant to know, it just a big chunk of ice, aaay?”

Carl noticed a strong whisky breath eminating from the alcohol saturated driver.

“Johnny, you show me the spot I’ll reward you, would a 1000 dollars do it?”

“A thousaandd dollerss, heck I’lll show you wherrre it isss fer shur! Don’t knoww wha you want whith a pile of ice. When I dumped it, it landed so hard tha it shattered to a million pieces at the bottom of the cliff!” The liquored up driver slurred, “All it’s good fer is making snow cones or in drinks!”

He made the point by shaking the glass of whiskey on the rocks he had been sipping, the ice cubes clattering as they jiggled in the glass, Johnny burped once then fainted.

Carl realized that he would have to wait till morning, when Johnny was sober enough to remember the location. The city offical helped carry the drunk to his limo for the drive to the hotel. Arriving minutes later, Carl had the intoxicated truck driver put to bed in an extra room and sleep off the drinking binge. Carl retired to his own room early, eventually falling into a fitfull sleep.

The sky began to fill with clouds and it started to snow, soon the air was filled with dancing snow flakes slowly concealing the icy debris along the shore under a blanket of featureless white.

The buzzing of his alarm woke Carl the next morning, he dressed hurridly. The hung over truck driver was roused from bed and filled with coffee, Carl personally escorted the sobered up driver out the entrance of the hotel.

Once outside Carl stopped in midstep, during the night it had snowed, from the looks of it almost a foot of snow had fallen!

“I’ll sure try to help ya find the spot, but with all this snow cover you’ll never find it in a hundred years!” The truck driver stated bluntly. “Heck spring is not too far away, in a few weeks when it warms up it’ll all melt, turn to water and flow away!”

Continues in chapter 5:  Ice Babe Jigsaw Puzzle

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