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On Christmas Eve |
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This story was part of my 1999 assault on the Christmas season. I wanted to look at the emotions of others during the build up to a time when all loved ones wish to be together. What if one of those loved ones was not where they were expected to be? Harry
peered out into the morning, staring intently at the mountains in the
distance. His breath had fogged up the inside of the window, and ice was
forming on the outside. Normally he would be watching with fascination
as the ice-crystals multiplied and grew as they crept across the pane of
glass, but today his mind was in an altogether different frame of mind. It
was Christmas Eve and the little boy was looking out across the fields
that led from the back of his mother and father’s house. The snow was
falling steadily now and he watched thoughtfully as his daddy’s
footprints; which meandered away towards the tall Colorado Pines; were
slowly being swallowed by the wintry downfall. Daddy
had left the house so early this morning. Harry was sure that he could
remember feeling his dad’s lips kiss him gently on the forehead before
he had crept out and closed the bedroom door silently. With a huge sigh,
Harry touched his forehead and forced a smile as he re-lived that little
kiss. The grin soon disappeared though as his mind returned to it’s
troubles. Daddy
always seemed to go out when the weather was bad. Why did he always head
for those massive, foreboding mountains? “Honey,
come away from the window...” Harry’s mum was a wonderful person,
and her tone was soft and caring, not at all harsh.
Her smile wasn’t going to fool him though. He might only be
eight years old, but he knew when Mummy was worried. He even noticed
that she was actually looking passed him and through the iced-up window,
out into the countryside beyond, obviously hoping to see a sign of her
husband. “Daddy
will be back soon, Mum.” His attempt at re-assurance made her heart
melt, and Laura Jackson positively beamed at her son. “I know H.,
daddy knows the mountains well, and he always goes out dressed up nice
and warm”. For
a moment or two, they remained motionless, each enjoying the respite of
a few minutes of positive emotion. The
comfortable silence was shattered as a vicious gust of wind slammed
against the side of the house, howling and whistling it’s rage as it
swept down from the northern face of the foothills. “Come
on Harry, help mummy make a nice big fire for when your daddy gets
home.” The
main room betrayed the sense of gloominess that mother and son were
feeling. Cheerfully adorned with brightly coloured Christmas
decorations, expertly put up the week before by Laura, the room could
rival even the finest of grottoes. She was a very artistic person and
the crowning glory was doubtlessly the tree which stood proudly in one
corner, shimmering and twinkling with fake snow and fairy lights. The
fire needed little preparation. It had been cleaned and built anew
already this morning and Harry was no fool. Mum had obviously been up an
awful long time herself. She always had trouble sleeping when daddy left
early and this morning was no different. With
little enthusiasm, Harry casually tossed a small log onto the neatly
prepared fire, scattering the even pile of wood all over the hearth. Laura
suppressed her annoyance. She was well aware of how her little boy was
feeling. The sense of worry pervading that room was easy enough to
notice. She decided to busy herself with the methodical re-building of
her neat pyramid of small sticks and logs, before striking a match and
holding its fiery head to a small piece of tightly folded newspaper
buried deep within the structure. In
seconds the paper had caught fire and the first flames began to char the
wood above. “There !” Laura sat back on her knees, holding her hands
up in front of her, pretending to warm them. Harry
edged nearer and put an arm around his mother. “Do you think daddy
will be home before Santa gets here tonight, Mum ?” “Of course he
will !” she exclaimed. ‘He’d better’, she thought. Once
more they sat in silence, each deep within their own private thoughts.
He, thinking of last Christmas when Santa Claus had given him a new
bike. Daddy had picked the bicycle up with him still sat on it, and
whirled it around the room like an aeroplane!! Daddy was very strong
like that. Laura’s
memory was of that same
night last year, when they had made love at the foot of the Christmas
tree after Harry had gone to bed. Charles had taken her in his strong
arms and carried her across the room, laying her gently in front of the
roaring fire. He had kissed her neck and shoulders while slowly removing
her blouse. The one he had bought her as one of her gifts. Their
love-making had lasted for over 2 hours that night and they only stopped
once the fire had died. Picturing
his strong, well toned body before her, Laura was suddenly wrenched back
to the present as her ears filled with an alarming noise. In
the kitchen, the music on the radio had given way to the half-hourly
news bulletin. Had she heard the words correctly ? Rescue services ?
Local man missing ? Oh Lord God !! Jumping
to her feet, causing Harry to overbalance with the speed of her
movement, Laura raced to the kitchen to turn up the volume. ‘....after
finding the red woolen hat the alarm was raised and the mountain search
and rescue teams were on the scene
within 20 minutes. A spokesman told us that they were still
confident of finding the man and that, if well dressed for the cold, he
could easily survive several more hours, maybe even to nightfall. More
on that story later ............’ The
news-reader moved onto the next story with casual indifference as Laura
stood paralysed in the doorway. She had no idea why Charles had got up
and left the house so early. He had whispered something to her, but in
the comfortable dreamy haze one experiences just after one has woken
from a deep sleep, she had not taken in what he had said. She had just
smiled and kissed his cheek as he moved away from her. Harry
was having the same thoughts as him Mum. They both looked towards the
hat-stand by the front door and each knew that Charles’ red ski-hat
was gone, along with his bright red gor-tex ski-jacket. After
a silence that seemed to last for an eternity, Laura heard her little
son start to cry. She forced her own tears back as she gently ushered
Harry into the main room and sat him on the large sofa in front of the
fire. Together
they sat there motionless, side by side, a mother and her son comforting
eachother. They
had only moved up to the mountains 18 months ago.
Charles had persuaded his company that he could work from home
via the internet and phone lines, and life had seemed so perfect. He
wrote work-place procedures for industry and he often slipped out of the
house really early, enjoying the crisp cool morning air filling his
lungs as he strode aimlessly about the fields and forests behind their
large, beautiful home. Laura
smiled as she remembered how he would get indignant when questioned over
the time he spent out there alone, thinking. “It’s the easiest pay
for doing nothing I’ve ever seen” she used to tease. “Hey gumdrop
!! I have to write with a clear head don’t I ?, And I bring in the
money don’t I ?”. The little ritual would usually end in Charles
tickling her ribs mercilessly, repeating his pet name to her as they
collapsed into an untidy heap on the floor, Laura giggling
uncontrollably. Often as not, Harry would dive into the affray and the
household would descend into a cacophony of shouting and laughter. It
was normally such a happy house. Time
spent in silence is time which ambles by at a snail’s pace. Laura,
deep in worried thought started cursing her decision not to get Charles
a mobile phone. If he had one, one simple call would probably put her
fears to rest. When she looked up to check on Harry, he was gone. As she
walked into his bedroom, she paused to watch her son. He was sat on the
large window-ledge, knees hunched up to his chest. His little finger was
drawing a picture of a man, a woman and a child
into the mist on the glass, beside them was a tall Christmas
tree, with a star on top. Harry had his mother’s flare for art. The
little boy was rocking gently and singing to himself: Away in a manger.
He was a truly wonderful little boy. As
his song ended, Harry gazed through the window again, his eyes scanning
every detail outside. After a few seconds he sighed and wiped away his
little drawing. “Come home Daddy !!” Laura
raced back to the kitchen, the news-reader was commencing his news
update and was already well into the story as she arrived.
“......the body was found by the rescue team a short while ago
and is believed to be that of a local man. We cannot give any more
details until the man has been formally identified. We have spoken to
John Grainger, head of the Mountain Search and rescue Volunteer
Force........ ‘The conditions out there were treacherous and the
victim must have fallen from the trail. We have no idea when the
accident occurred, but with the help of Caleb here, and the other
tracker dogs, we were taken almost directly to him. It was unfortunately
too late and the gentleman was found to be dead on arrival at the local
hospital. I understand that efforts are being made to contact his family
......... Can I just say, that I’d like to thank ................’
” That’s
when the doorbell rang. Laura’s
mind started swimming, her sense of balance eluded her and she could
feel consciousness seeping from her body. Her legs buckled and she knelt
down before she could fall. She
was vaguely aware of the image of Harry racing excitedly to the front
door before she was finally able to take a breath and some of her senses
returned to her. “.....if
it wasn’t for Charles Jackson raising the alarm this morning, the body
may have remained undiscovered for days, covered in snow. Charles had
taken a walk over to my house ........” As
the front door swung open, Harry screamed in delight. Stood
there in his bright red ski-jacket, woolen hat perched proudly atop his
head, Charles beamed down out his young so. “Hullo titch, we will be
sharing Christmas with a new family member this year !” Inside
the jacket, two large black eyes stared out in frightened curiosity.
“...hey Gumdrop, come and
have a look at her, she’s beautiful. One of the puppies from Caleb’s
latest litter, John says it’ll most
likely make an excellent search dog when it grows up ....... and hey
guess what, on the way to John’s this morning
I found this red hat ........” Laura
walked from the kitchen shakily and her eyes feasted on the sight before
her. Harry was clinging to his father’s leg for all he was worth and
her husband was grinning like a little boy. The puppy was lowered to the
floor and promptly galloped over to the Christmas tree, hiding behind
it. “Come
and give me a cuddle Gumdrop. It’s cold out there and I have quite a
story to tell you. I was on my way to collect our new puppy, you know,
the one I told you about this morning ..............” In the Jackson house that evening, three people and a little puppy enjoyed the most magical Christmas any of them could remember. |
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