It is colder than hell (literally?) in the Midwest so we need to take winter clothing. We dig them out of containers that were never opened since you and Big Dog moved to California from Tokyo. Long silk underwear. Gloves. Sweaters. Scarves. Hats.
It is sunny and sparkly but cold when we disembark at Midway Airport, in the suburbs of Chicago. Colder than anything I’ve ever experienced even though I used to be a skier and have been in many snowbound areas.
The owner comes to our hotel with his “son-in-law” who is helping him sell the vehicle. Is the younger man really his son-in-law? Or just another dealer? Is everything as it appears to be or not?
It’s dark outside when they arrive so we can’t see anything, but nothing seems to work inside the RV. Yeah, the vehicle part seems fine, but why don’t you even have lights inside the cabin?
“Son-in-law” tells us the fuse is blown so the generator won’t start. In minus 20 weather, obviously you can’t test any of the plumbing – the RV still has the original anti-freeze in its holding tanks. The sliding door on the side won’t open.
“It’s frozen shut.”
They go away – we’ll think about it over night. And think, we do. Actually, we phobe about it all.
“Why doesn’t anything work inside the cabin? Is there a whole lot wrong with it that we won’t find out until later?”
Before getting to Chicago I was only anxious about the weather. Now, these concerns are consuming me. All night long.