Let It Snow
A seasonal fan fiction.
One
There was something wrong with the snowman.
Sarah was hiding from Toby and his sugar cookie-fueled high spirits. She was ensconced within the bay window overlooking the winter-wonderland backyard that had earlier played host to her little brother and several of his friends. December wasn't always the best month to have a birthday; too many combination presents and too long of a wait for the big month to roll around again. This year though, an especially snowy week that had featured not one, but two snow days had given way to a clear and sunny weekend and a snow pile with just the correct degree of melt to yield amazing snowballs that could be packed and rolled into any number of creations. That Toby, celebrating his sixth birthday, would choose something as mundane as a snowman, came as something as a surprise to Sarah.
Last year they had made an entire menagerie of snow animals: crocodiles, bears, dogs, and Sarah's personal favorite, owls. The year before, they had stomped out a twisted maze, molding the sides and creating openings where they pleased. A snowman seemed downright boring by comparison. Sarah drummed her fingers on the cover of the deadly dull book she was supposed to be reading for her sociology class as she stared out through the frosted glass. Of course, she hadn't had anything to do with this latest winter creation. Perhaps the influence of so many of the under-eight set had dulled the inspiration, but still… Something seemed off with the snowman. It had the standard three snowballs stacked top to bottom in increasing size and the requisite carrot nose and charcoal eyes. It stood nearly as tall as Sarah, an impressive feat considering none of its builder's heads reached above her collarbone.
Sarah squinted at it and frowned, trying to place what was bothering her.
All at once she knew what it was. Like a shot, she was up out of her seat, grabbing her coat and stumbling into her boots and out the door. She pushed quickly through the drifts that had snuggled up to the garage and made a beeline for the snowman. Up close, it was even taller than she had thought, but what caught her eye was the odd bony collar it bore around its icy neck. Toby had brought an old throw out to tie around it like a cape, probably in homage to his favorite superhero, but the bony collar protruding upwards reminded her with surprising forcefulness of an oddly menacing cloak she had seen years ago. She bit her lip and tasted blood, blinking in the too-bright afternoon sunshine. Tentatively, she reached up to the collar, only pulling her hand away at the last moment when she realized it was made, not of bones, but of icicles.
Of course. Icicles.
She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until it released in a steamy cloud that threatened to cave-in the chin of Toby's creation. Stepping back, she shook her head at her own foolishness. Get a grip, Sarah. Just because you're back here for the holidays, surrounded by glitz and glitter, doesn't mean you should be thinking of… she brought herself up short as movement out the corner of her eye caught her attention.
Caught on the snowy branch of a hydrangea bush, poised amidst its brown and fragile blossoms, a scrap of glittering blue fabric moved gently in the light breeze. Sarah froze, her heart leaping into her mouth, which all of its own volition was muttering, "no, no, no, oh no…". She backed up, eyes never leaving the impossible sight, then abruptly whipped around and sprinted back toward the house, feet sliding in the snow, breath coming in great gasps. She rounded the corner and nearly slammed into her father, who was just surveying the buried driveway, ergonomic shovel neatly in hand. She slid to a stop, panting. "Toby?" It was a question that emerged as a shout. Her father frowned, shook his head. Sarah bit back a sob and pushed past him, bursting through the front door and shaking snow all over her stepmother's meticulously clean foyer. "Toby!" she called again. The house was achingly quiet.
Ignoring everything except her fear, Sarah plunged up the stairs, still calling for her brother. Every empty room she peered into caused her panic to escalate. There was a roaring in her ears, like a great wave poised to break upon her head. No, no, no, please God no, not Toby. No! She pounded back downstairs and continued to search, slamming through the kitchen door just as her stepmother emerged from the basement, laundry basket balanced on one prominent hip. A question sprang into her eyes as she spotted the storm that was Sarah rushing towards her.
"Toby?" asked Sarah, eyes flashing. "Have you seen Toby? Where is he?"
The older woman was alarmed by the unexpected force of Sarah's question and dropped the full basket at her feet. The dull thud seemed to ground her, for the gaze she turned to her stepdaughter was accusing, yet calm. "For heaven's sake, Sarah, look what you made me do." She bent down and picked up a couple pieces of clothing that had fallen out. Sarah wanted to scream her frustration.
"I've got to find Toby! Do you know where he is?"
"He went to the park with his friends." She moved impatiently past Sarah and pushed the laundry basket against the wall with one slippered foot, sniffing slightly as though detecting something disagreeable. "Is there a problem, Sarah?"
"Yes. No. I don't know." Sarah was conscious of her wild appearance. "Maybe." She shoved her hands into her pockets so her stepmother couldn't see her clenching and unclenching them. "You shouldn't let him go to the park alone."
The other woman let out an exasperated sigh. "It's perfectly safe, Sarah, and he's not alone. I just told you that."
Sarah swallowed hard. That was precisely what she was afraid of.