Fading Footprints by Pat Councilor
The Bon Marche was trimmed in dapper Christmas décor. Niles stepped outside and looked this way and that. It had started to snow. Not much snow this season and now only two days until the happiest day of the year. Yet, Niles wasn't feeling the holiday cheer in the air. There were no dancing sugar plums nor were there any chestnuts to roast along his dreary path to Christmas.
At least he had Frasier's Christmas party to look forward to. "Oh my," he thought out loud. He still needed to pick up a few bottles of wine to take to the party.
Before heading along the street to the parking garage that stowed his car, he reached his hand inside his Bon Marche bag and pulled out a sizable box. He opened it to appreciate the glimmer and dazzle of the Faberge Egg that he had just purchased for Maris. He forced a smirk from his frosty lips for appreciation was a term full of irony. Maris never appreciated anything that he had ever picked out for her. Nothing was ever good enough. Sure, she would display it in the house for a good three to four days before it would disappear from their lives forever. Maris always had a suspicious reasoning. Just days after her birthday, she claims that people came to the door demanding donations for the local festive dance community. The name of the community conveniently slipped her mind. She claims to have felt so much social pressure that she gave away the birthday present Niles had bought for her. Then there was the classic Erwin Sattler clock he bought her for their anniversary, that she claims one of the servants had stolen. The reasons for the gift disappearing just got better and better with every ill-fated gift he gave her.
He slipped it back into the box and dropped it back down into the bag, almost without consideration for its well-being. He sighed heavily as he wondered what reason she would fabricate to rid their lives of this gift.
Snowflakes drifted through the air like down feathers. Just like the time feathers floated through his house after a wonderful pillow fight one evening. One of the pillows ripped and feathers flew everywhere. When Maris got home, she was so upset at the mess. Why did he and Frasier get into that fight with the couch pillows? Oh yes, it was an argument over who was right about what be the best meal to serve with a high-end Riesling.
A smile rose from the corners of his chilled face. The snow brought back a bevy of memories of him and Frasier and how excited they would get about snow when they were boys. Niles stepped out into the street. Dare he catch a snowflake on his tongue? Oh, he almost had one there. Another few steps forward. People were probably watching him from the sidewalk, but he didn't care. He didn't have many pleasures in his life and he was claiming this silly little moment as his own. He took several more steps. There, he got that one.
He didn't even see the car coming. Funny, this time of year, the streets would be packed, but there was a moment of time when there wasn't a vehicle around. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Niles turned to see the car heading straight for him. He tried to step out of the way, but he slipped.
He couldn't move too fast on the frozen asphalt or he would lose his footing all-together and end up on his back. The car clipped him.
Fortunately, not enough to even make him lose his balance. He couldn't believe the driver didn't even slow down. The car just kept going. Taking a deep breath, he couldn't believe he wasn't hurt. His next attention was on the egg. Did it break? Oh, that would save Maris the effort it would take to come up with a creative accusation of why this gift disappeared. He retrieved the box from the bag and opened it. The egg was unscathed.
Closing the box, he set it back in the bag. He smiled, focusing back on the snowflakes swirling in the air around him. He was having a bit of fun and was going to chase down another one. The trek to his car would wait.
There was a sharp pain in his side. When he turned, he found a man, dressed in rags, pointing some sort of hand-held fire-arm at him.
He stranger kept the pistol low and out of sight. "Into the alley. NOW!"
Niles looked to see they were near the alley. He started to put his hands up.
"Put your hands down. Don't try to draw attention to yourself. Just get moving."
He did as he was told, stepping into the alley and out of the view of the many shoppers on the store's outside walkway.
The drifting snow started to cover Nile's footprints that led to the alley.