Disclaimer: I own none of the Sky High Characters.
Happy Birthday
Warren followed the salesman across the field. The grass, still coated with frost from the night before, crunched under his feet. The sales agent meandered on about the prime location of the lot, its accessibility to the walking trail, and the great view of the lake. Warren's mind wasn't really focused on the sales pitch. Instead, it drifted back to the morning three days earlier.
He had awoken, pre-dawn, with a heavy weight on his chest. Still groggy from lack of sleep, Warren struggled to open his eyes. He had been out late the night before, forestalling a small catastrophe in Malaysia.
The weight on his chest shifted... and growled. Warren's eyes focused on a small pajama clad figure. The small figure raised its arms, curled its fingers into claws, and barred its teeth. Growling once more, it bounced on Warren's stomach.
"Sun's up! Sun's up, daddy!" his son cried gleefully.
Warren groaned and covered his face, "No, it's not."
"Up, daddy, up. Or the bear will eat you." His son growled once more and Warren heard his wife chuckling beside him.
"You heard the little grizzly, sun's up," Angela rolled closer to Warren. She pinched the skin over his ribs, causing Warren to yelp in surprise. "Go away, little grizzly. This one is too skinny. You'd better stick with blueberry pancakes for breakfast."
Christian pulled the covers off of his parents and fell to the floor in a pile of giggles and blankets.
Warren dressed quickly and met his family in the kitchen. His son was stabbing the pieces of his pancake with savage glee.
"Careful, little grizzly. You'll get syrup on your clothes."
"I'm not a grizzly now" said the four year old titan. "I'm a black bear. They're in the same family, but they love blueberries, even in pancakes."
Warren chuckled and grabbed a cup from the cupboard. He wrapped an arm around his wife as she passed on her way through the kitchen.
"Daddy, will it snow today?" his son asked, studying his pancakes intently.
"It's not cold enough," Warren answered, pouring the coffee.
"But it has to snow for Christmas," Christian looked up in surprise.
"Not necessarily. It depends on the temperature. Not the holidays. And it's just not cold enough yet." Warren replied, sipping his coffee, undeterred by the scalding liquid.
"Your daddy's got an old girlfriend who might could take care of that problem," Angela said, entering the breakfast nook on the tail end of the conversation.
"Your mommy needs to just let that one go." Warren kissed his wife on the cheek.
"Are you lecturing today?" he asked, watching Angela's hips sway as she headed for the living room, collecting coats and sweaters as she went.
"No, no lectures. We have a big trip planned for today." She ruffled her son's hair, listening to his delighted giggle. "We are going to…"
"The zoo!" Christian shouted. "We're going to see the polar bears. Polar bears appear white because of the absence of color in their fur. They're in the bear family, too."
"How are you feeling?" Warren rubbed his hand across his wife's round belly. "Any pains? Maybe you should stay home today."
"Stop worrying. This baby's a week away." Angie slapped his hand away. "How about you?" Angela asked. She knew Warren had been out late the night before. She wished he would take the morning to rest.
"There's been heavy snow in Finland. They're afraid there may be an impending avalanche. They want me to come and take care of some of the excess powder."
Warren set the empty coffee cup down on the table.
"Daddy, if you melt too much snow too quickly, you'll cause a flood." His son watched him carefully.
"I'm aware of that," Warren sighed. "It's a delicate process."
"You shouldn't mess with the ecosystem." His son advised.
"I'll take that in consideration, little man." Warren turned back to his wife. "Are you sure you're feeling okay. You could be early, you know." Warren wrapped his arms around Angie, ignoring his son's "yuck" of protest from across the room.
"That's true. Wouldn't Christmas be nice again?" She smiled looking over Warren's shoulder at her son's frown of disdain.
"Your son may be loving and sharing, and a major advocate of the environment, but I don't think there are many four year olds who are willing to share their birthday with a new sibling."
"Okay, you got me there." Angie conceded. "Maybe, she'll be a New Year's Day baby."
"Convinced she's a she, huh?" Warren teased.
"Just a feeling. Hey, black bear," Angela called to her son, "Go put on your shoes. Even bears have to wear shoes to the zoo. And hurry, Aunt Magenta's waiting for us. We have to pick her up on the way."
"Ask Aunt Magenta what family the guinea pig is in," Warren smirked, as his son headed down the hall.
"Dad, she didn't think that was funny the last time I asked her" Christian called, coming back in to the room with a bag of Oreos, but no shoes.
"Go get your shoes, little man." Angela sighed in exasperation. "Hey, are you working with Jeff today?"
"Yeah, so this really shouldn't take very long. As long as everything goes as planned, we should be back in time for supper." Warren was looking forward to having dinner with his family. It would the first time in over a week.
"Well, tell Mr. Supersonic to stop by and pick up some authentic Thai food on the way home, and he's welcome to join us."
"Mommy," Christian called, finally reappearing with his shoes, "Can I have a glass of milk to dunk my Oreos in on the way to the zoo?"
"Not this soon after breakfast, and why in the world would I give you a cup without a lid?" Angela answered in surprise.
"Daddy does." Christian explained, heading for the door.
"Your daddy's a crazy man," Angela turned towards her husband, "What were you thinking?" she mouthed silently.
"I'll see you tonight," Warren wrapped his arms around his wife and held her tight. "Tell Magenta I said hi."
"I will, and listen, if you get home before me, there's a transformer under the bed that I didn't get a chance to wrap. The Christmas paper is in the hall closet." Angela kissed her husband slowly before grabbing her keys and heading out the door after their son.
Warren realized the salesman was asking him a question, but he couldn't seem to hear what he was saying. All that filled his ears was the sound of Magenta screaming at him over the transponder. He couldn't seem to get the sound out of his head no matter how hard he had tried for the last two days.
Magenta screaming to "hurry". Jeff rushing him across continents and oceans. The mangled cars. The flashing lights of the ambulances, and the frantic movements of the e.m.t.s. It was all a blur.
You know heroes are always called in to avert major disasters, to save cities. But for the common traffic accident, they're never alerted.
Of course, there really isn't time. It all happens so quickly. Lives are changed forever in the blink of an eye.
Warren couldn't shut out the image of the sheet covered gurneys being loaded into the ambulance. The lights and sirens were turned off. There was no hurry now.
Warren faced thee salesman again. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Peace. We have the memorial stones ready as you can see." Black granite, with the words "Loving Wife, Beloved Son, Enfant Daughter"
"We'll be ready to start in a few hours. We're a little short staffed since its Christmas Eve. But everything seems to be moving along." The mortician stood waiting apologetically.
"Good. My wife's family arrived in town yesterday." Warren replied though his mind felt a million miles away. He wondered if Angie ever had a chance to wrap the transformer toy. They should have given it to Christian that morning. He could have taken it with him to the zoo.
The service was a blur, and Warren really wasn't sure who all was in attendance. He watched the three matching caskets being lowered into the ground, and then couldn't sit still for the rest of the service.
He left amid hushed whispers and pointed stares, but didn't care.
After the last straggler had left the cemetery, he returned. Christmas morning, four a.m. He hadn't been to sleep yet. Snow had begun to fall, blanketing the raw earth in a cover of white. He placed the wrapped package carefully in front of the middle headstone and looked up to the heavens. "Happy Birthday," he whispered.
Snow swirled down around him. Snowflakes landed on his eye lashes, blurring his vision. Snow for Christmas, just like he had asked for.
Warren didn't think he had ever felt so cold in his entire life.
