The Story of Cliff Stoner

"Dispatch to Truck 9. Over."

"Truck 9 here. What's up, Claudia? Over."

"Report of wires down due to, you won't believe this, a snow storm! Over".

"Come again? Did you say 'a snow storm'? Over."

"Affirmative, Cliff. A snow storm! Get this, only around River Junction. Small outtage but this'll cascade unless we get someone there and fast! Johnathan and Mort in truck 12 are en-route, ETA 20 minutes. You guys are closer. Over."

"Truck 9 to Dispatch, we're on it! Over."

"A snow storm!?", muttered Cliff increduously, "It's 50 degrees outside and clear as a bell!" He shook his head, started the truck, and pulled up to the convenience store. Y2K outtages he was prepared for. This was something else.

"Hey, Jack!", Cliff yelled as he rolled down the window. "We gotta roll, buddy! Got a cacade near River Junction! Johnathan and Mort are on their way but we've got the ball!"

"What caused it?", said Jack as he quickly and carefully got in the truck while holding two steaming cups of coffee.

"Take a wild guess and you still won't get it", said Cliff as he started driving.

Jack shrugged his shoulders and laughed. "I dunno, a snow storm?"

"Right?! You know something I don't?", suggested Cliff as he resisted the urge to stop.

"Huh? What? No way! You're joking, right?", said a disbelieving Jack. Cliff shook his head. Jack continued, "You're not joking! A snow storm?!? How in THE hell...it's 50 degrees outside and clear as a bell!"

Cliff, with a puzzled look, glanced at Jack. "Jack? Never mind. My thoughts exactly. And, it's no joke. Snow storm. Though how beats me!"

During the drive to the substation amid the small talk and radio chatter, Cliff thought of the new life ahead of him in Atlanta. Eric, a friend of his, heard through the grape vine that Georgia Power was hiring line technicians at excellent salaries. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to work in the big city, he put in an application and was quickly hired. In a few weeks he would be in Atlanta but, one last stint with Mountain Power around Y2K.

He didn't mind pulling a double-shift from time to time. He was young and he discovered at an early age that there was tremendous satisfaction in serving the public. He knew how much people depended on electricity and, because of that, him when there were problems with the power. It only made him strive harder to be and do his best.

Sometimes this striving would get him into trouble. There was the time he went up in the truck's cherry picker to get a cat out of a tree. Or, the time he retrieved little Damon Stephens' frisbee from a roof top. Or, the time he helped old Sarah Miller jump start her car and then followed her to Weston's Garage to make sure she got there. But, all in all, punishment was usually a slap on the wrist which sting would be quickly washed away by a few beers down at Peter's Tavern.

Within a hundred yards of the River Junction substation Cliff stopped the truck. Both he and Jack started at the Winter Wonderland in front of the truck. Snow, two feet deep in some places, prevented driving any closer. Ice hung from tree limbs and wires. This wasn't a sudden easing into snow either. A sharp dividing line separated the snow and ice areas from the surrounding woods. Fortunately, no more snow appeared to be falling and what had fallen was starting to melt.

Jack whistled and said, "I thought I'd seen everything until now." A flash of blue-white light from a pole transformer not far off the road drew their attention. "That must be the problem", said Jack.

"Dispatch," said Cliff as he grabbed and keyed the microphone, "We are 20 at River Junction. Truck 12 needed stat. Over." "Roger, Truck 9. Over." said Claudia as she began relaying instructions to the other truck.

"Well, there's no time like the present," said Cliff as he put on his hat and stepped out. Jack grabbed some equipment and they met in front of the truck.

"You sure you're up to this?" asked Jack.

A confused look crossed Cliff's face for a moment. Then he smiled, "Oh, that! Sure. Just a spell of dizziness a few moments after midnight. Must have been that Tex-Mex I had for dinner at Austin's. Either that or I'm suffering from Y2K. No problem now. I feel like I can take on the world."

They made their way through the snow and ice to the pole. "We'll have to kill the power for this at River Junction." said Cliff. Looking back to the truck he pointed to a tree and said, "If I cut that one down, I should be able to get the 'pick here."

"Right," said Jack. "I'll go ahead and kill the power while you work on the tree." Jack trudged off to the substation while Cliff started back to the truck for the chain saw.

Suddenly, the wind whipped up. The trees started swaying and a sudden icy cold wind bit into Cliff's skin through his jacket. He stumbled and fell as the wind intensified to gale force. He cried out but could barely hear himself. Then a large gust of wind, seemingly like a giant hand, plucked him off the ground and flung him high into the air.

Weightless, screaming and falling, he panicked. But, as he screamed his voice got deeper and louder. Also, the cold wind, while still biting, didn't feel as bad. He felt stronger and tougher than he had felt in his entire life. The ground rushed up at him and he hit with his back to the ground. Undamaged and mad as hell he stood up, looking around for his attacker. Full force the driving wind and snow struck him not once but twice ... and he didn't budge. In fact he barely felt it! Truly he was an immovable object.

He growled and it sounded like boulders crashing down a moutain side. Walking over to the truck, which somehow looked much smaller, he picked it up and threw it into the wind. He was rewarded with the satisfying crunch of metal, plastic and wood as it hit the ground some distance away. The icy cold, gale force winds suddenly ceased and all was quiet and still.

"Hmph," he grunted. "Figures." It was then that he became aware of the change. Twelve feet tall of gray granite he stood. Looking at his hands which were lumps of rock with rocky fingers, he stumbled backwards, fell and righted himself into a sitting position. He blinked hard once. No change! He blinked hard again and felt something click inside him. He was back to himself, on the ground in a sitting position, a larger form was pressed into the ground around him.

Staggering to his feet he walked back to where the truck once was. "Oh, yeah," he said dazedly to no one in particular, "It's over there" as he turned toward the mangled truck and shook his head.

Jack's voice sounded from the distance. He sounded scared but ok and unharmed. They met up at the pole just as Truck 12 arrived.

Cliff never mentioned the gray, granite beast to anyone at Mountain Power. Truck 9 was later written up as an insurance loss due to "inclement and extreme weather related conditions".

Several weeks later on his way to Atlanta he heard about the Millenials holding Atlanta in a state of near siege. "Someone ought to do something!" he thought to himself. "Maybe that someone is me."