Margaret Mysteries 🔎👁️

The Case of the Frozen Furnace

I put the key in.

No click.

Breathe. Don’t panic.
She works just fine.

“What am I missing?”

Gloves.
Winter boots.
A manual.

Forecast: –23°C.
Feels like –26 with windchill.

Margaret wasn’t turning on.
My hands were frozen.

“There has to be a button.”

I found a panel.
Passenger side.
Coach.

The chassis switch.

CAB.
COACH.
USE.
STORE.

A red light above CAB turned on.

“What key is for the ignition?”

I tried all five.

Click.

Purr.

She runs.

“It takes about twenty minutes for the lights to turn on.”

So I waited.

Then I tried the furnace.

Cold.

“Do you need anything while I’m here?”

I should have asked the seller about the heat.

Shoot.

Me:
“I tried the heat and couldn’t get it working. Is there anything I should know?”

Seller:
“There’s a battery relay switch by the driver cab door.”

I searched.

No clues.

My car was still running.

“Should’ve worn gloves,” I muttered, getting warm.

Then I found shore power.

A stranger’s garage.

He helped me find the cord.

I was ready to spend my first night in Margaret.

The furnace had been running for over an hour.

Enough time to warm the space.

I pressed the metal button to open the cab door.

Gas.

No heat.

I opened a window.

Two days without a main heat source.

Buddy heater running through the night.

Emergency blankets taped to the walls.

Margin is a calculation.

4:00 AM.

Cold.

I had already gone through two bottles of propane.

I opened the cabinet.

The supply was rusted.

Two bottles left.

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