Jack wasn't an uncommon name, so Jackson thought nothing of it when the boy with the white hair introduced himself as Jack Frost. They shared the same first name. Jackson felt it wasn't the only thing they shared, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He grinned and steadied himself on the ice. "Well then, shouldn't be too hard to forget, right?"
The other gave him an uncertain smile in return. He shifted his bare feet on the frozen surface before peering back to Jackson. Jack seemed so uncertain and he was so cautious around Jackson. Perhaps his isolation had left him dubious about Jackson's show of kindness. Jack hesitantly reached back to him and touched his shoulder. He smiled again and Jackson had to strain to hear what Jack whispered in a breath.
"I can touch him!"
"JACK!" Jack and Jackson turned to the forest. Jackson's little sister, Jill, stood just at the edge of the pond, red in the face and trying to catch her breath. Her eyes glistened with tears that threatened to spill over. "JACK! GET OFF THE ICE! PLEASE!"
Jackson's chest tightened. He was worrying his sister. He had almost died right in here and she was clearly scared it would happen again. Jackson carefully moved off of the ice. He occasionally grabbed Jack to steady himself. Jack seemed much more adept at walking on the slippery surface than Jackson. Maybe because of the bare feet or he simply walked on it often. Jack must have been very lucky or very knowing about how ice worked.
When he finally reached her, she ran into Jackson's arms, sobbing. "Jack! Don't go on the ice again! Please! Never again." she begged. Jackson stroked her hair, hushing her. He crouched to her level and wiped her face dry.
"Look, see Jill? We're fine." He brushed hair from the stickiness of her tears. "Don't cry, okay? I'm okay."
"Why did you come here all by yourself?" she sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "You just ran off and left me alone."
"I'm sorry, Jill." Jackson pulled her into a tight embrace. "I won't scare you again. I promise." Hold on one moment. Jackson looked back to Jack. He wasn't alone. He was with Jack. He followed Jack here. Had she not seen that he chased the boy?
Jack shifted uncomfortably. He watched Jill, his blue eyes showed a sort of tenderness. Why? He had never met Jill. He hadn't need to show any concern for her. Perhaps he just liked children? He must have been like Jackson. Maybe he wanted to play with the children. He had tried to start a game with them before.
"Jill, I wasn't—"
Jack pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head. He stepped around behind Jill. Jackson watched, furrowing his brows. Jill had paid the boy no mind. It was like he was invisible to her. Jackson knew Jill was not a rude girl. She was shy, especially around strangers. And she was certainly not bashful around this stranger. It was like he wasn't even there.
Jack's hand hovered timidly over the crown of Jill's head, just barely above her scalp. Jackson stood up, frowning. The girl's face turned upward and Jack's hand met her forehead. Or rather… passed right through her.
What?! What exactly was what?
Jack pulled his fist away and retreated from the siblings. Jackson pulled Jill away from the strange boy. What was he? Why couldn't Jill see him? How did he pass right through her as if he was just smoke? This boy… no. No, he wasn't human. He had to be a spirit of some kind. He was a ghost. He was certain.
He had assumed there was something strange about this boy. Jackson tried not to think about it. It walked and talked and acted human enough. Jackson could touch him. But the proof that the boy wasn't… wasn't… what was he?! Jackson never thought he would be afraid of ghosts or spirits. Then again, he never thought he'd come across one. Now, being in the presence of whatever this boy was terrified him. Whatever he was, Jackson realized it wasn't right. He was a strange creature in his sleepy little village where nothing ever happened. Jack Frost, whoever he was, wasn't…
"What…" Jackson lifted Jill into his arms and edged towards the trail. "What are you?"
Jack's eyes widened and he clutched his staff tightly. His lips pressed together as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. Jack floundered and looked towards the sky, his eyes seeking answers. He didn't even know what he was!
Jackson bolted, carrying his sister. Jill yelped in surprise as her brother ran from the pond.
"Jack! What's wrong?" Jill cried out, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly to brace against the jostling. "Jack! Slow down—ah!" she screamed when Jackson tripped over a root. He held her tightly and scrambled to steady himself.
He needed to put as much distance between himself and whatever the hell that boy was. He didn't stop until they were back in the well clearing. Jackson leaned against a tree to catch his breath and slid into the snow, holding Jill. She pulled herself away from him and took his face in her small hands.
"Jack… are you okay?"
Jackson forced a smile. "What? You don't like when I carry you anymore? You're getting big, you know. Soon, I won't be able to carry you. Get it while you can."
"You're white as a sheet," Jill frowned and wiped sweat from his brow. "Are you scared?"
"No, no." Jackson shook his head, standing up once he caught his breath. "You're the scaredy-cat." She giggled when he bopped her nose and set her down next to the pail she dropped in her hurry to chase her brother.
Jackson looked over his shoulder, scanning the forest. All clear. Maybe, hopefully, perhaps Jackson really was insane. Maybe that boy wasn't real at all. Maybe Jackson made him up. There was no Jack Frost. Just someone his mind had made up. Those delirious and vivid dreams were coming to life.
Wait… were they? Did he dream up the boy? Well… he did dream about being a ghost. Unseen, unheard, and untouchable to everyone. Isn't that what Jack Frost was? A ghost? A figment of Jackson's imagination. Perhaps he would investigate further once he was sure he was better.
After the siblings had done their chores, Jackson took the children and gathered them by the warmth of the center fire. He told them fantastic stories he wove from his dreams and they showed him their new games. They were amazing! Jackson chased the children, knowing full well he was being watched by the adults and judged. Even Jonathan and Eliza, whom were twenty-one and sixteen. Jackson had been close to them growing up, but he never actually grew up.
They should be happy, Jackson thought. He was keeping them out of trouble. Sure, he wasn't the best influence. But he was making sure they played safely, especially after what happened in December. He enjoyed playing their games and loved sitting with them and learning from them. Since the schoolteacher had insisted he was too old. So, the children went back and taught him what they learned every once in a while. But Jill went home every day to teach her brother.
That night, the events from the morning had long since been brushed away as a weird hallucination. He had not seen the Jack Frost boy since. Perhaps it was a fluke. He was still trying to shake the dreams from his mind. There was nothing there. Jill had seen nothing and heard nothing, therefore, it was all in Jack's head. One of the children had probably thrown the snowball.
Jackson sat with his father, whittling a new utensil for the kitchen. His father, James, smoothed out the tools Jackson had already carved. Johanna, his mother, was teaching Jill how to sew. As Jackson held back his work to admire it, something in the window caught his attention.
The window began to frost over. Beautiful plant-like patterns crept across the smooth surface. Whoah. He had seen frost like that, but he had never seen it as it was forming. Jackson moved closer, grinning from ear to ear to inspect it. That was cool. His father grabbed his attention, saying it as just ice and to get back to work.
Nobody appreciated the simple pleasures. Jackson gave the frost one last look before returning to work. Wait. A glimpse of white. Jackson opened the window only to see snowflakes ghosting past the window and settle on the porch. Weird. Was it snowing? Jackson leaned out the window and looked up to the sky. No… no snow.
His father called him with a firmer voice. He closed the window and sat back in his chair, commenting that he thought it was snowing. Jill began to bounce in her seat. Snow! She hoped it would snow! She loved when it snowed! It was so much fun!
That was strange. Last year, Jill hated the snow. It was cold. It was wet. It hurt. Jackson had tried his best to get her to see how wonderful it was. What happened that made her change her mind? Did something happen while he was down with fever? It must have. He wished he could have been there to experience her change of heart with her.
Over the next few days, Jackson's mind strayed back to Jack Frost when left unattended. He tried to shake the boy from his thoughts. He stayed away from the pond, at the request of his sister. Though he was tempted to go back and see if his hallucination was still where he left him, he kept his word to Jill.
Jackson had not seen hide nor hair of the boy. So, he figured the boy was just a figment. And Jackson did not go looking for ghosts and did not plan to until his mother requested something from him.
A plant at that grew near the pond. She asked him to keep his quest secret from Jill, knowing how much it would distress her. She wanted this plant that was in a book his father had brought back from closest town. They could not read much of it and Jackson wondered what they were doing with the book. And what was the plant for? Maybe food. There were berries on it.
Jackson slung a pack on his shoulders and moved stealthily through the village, keeping out of Jill's sight and out of the sight of other children lest they tell her where he escaped to. He tread on the familiar path, looking at the page of the book his mother gave him. The drawing of the plant was quite detailed. He shouldn't have trouble matching the image to the picture.
Jackson entered the pond clearing with trepidation. He would be lying if he said he wasn't worried he'd start seeing things again. But he had been fine the last few days. It was just that one fluke, he told himself. If he worried about it, he would bring the visions upon himself. Deep breath, Jackson. Start looking.
Jackson searched the brush and the trees for the plant. He wasn't sure if he should look high or low, so he did both. Would the plant even survive the winter? His mother said it should. The schoolteacher had told her it did. That was what the text said.
He had searched all day. In the forest around the pond, on the rocks, and under the brush. He was starting to get hungry. He was tired. To quench his thirst, he ate snow. When Jackson felt hopeless that the plant had indeed died in the snow, he caught a glimpse of red. Ah!
Jackson skidded in the snow and stopped just short of the tiny bush. There it was! He laughed as he pulled out a knife and began to cut away branches. His mother had not specified how much she needed, so he cut off what he could carry in his bag. When he had filled it, he turned back to the bush. How had the plant still bore fruit?
Whatever. Jackson was hungry.
Jackson plucked the red berries from the bush. As much as he could could hold in both hands. He was ravenous. As the brunette raised his hands to empty the berries into his mouth, a cold hand stopped him.
"No! Stop!"
Jackson went frigid. He turned to the white haired frantic boy. He slapped the berries out of Jackson's hands and grabbed them with both of his.
"The animals stay away from them." Jack explained, nodding to the bush. "They scavenge for food but avoid this bush. That means it's dangerous. Don't eat them."
Oh Lord. He was here. He was right in front of him. And he… stopped him from getting possibly poisoned. Jackson glanced down at the berries on the ground that had… frozen? Jackson curiously looked from Jack to the berries on the ground and crouched down to inspect a berry. It as white and covered in ice. But… Jackson was just holding it. It wasn't… how?!
"I said don't eat it!" Jack cried out desperately.
"I'm… I'm not…" Jackson stood up. "It froze. Look." Jackson held it out. "It's covered in ice."
Jack was unsurprised. He took the berry and tossed it over his shoulder, unimpressed by the phenomenon. Why not?! That was amazing! Jackson picked up more berries, grinning. Was it the ground that froze them? Jackson plucked some fresh berries and dropped them. Nothing.
Jackson looked up to Jack to question what it could have been that froze them only to see the boy retreating from him. He gripped his staff and this time Jackson was close enough to notice something rather peculiar. The frost on the wood defrosted when Jack pulled his hands away from the wood. When he placed them back, ice shone beneath his fingers.
Jackson grabbed a fistful of the plant and lunged for Jack. Jack yelped out when Jackson grabbed his wrist and dropped the plant into his palm. Jackson's eyes widened when frost spread over the green leaves and the red fruits. Jack froze the berries! But how?
That was when Jackson realized… he wasn't scared anymore. He was curious. Everything strange about Jack gnawed at his mind and he just wanted to know what this boy was and why and how come and wow that was cool!
"What are you?" Jackson asked.
Jack pulled his hand away from Jackson, scowling. "What do you care? You're just going to run away again." Jackson frowned. Oh… Jack stepped away from Jackson. "You're just like him. You… You acknowledge me and then… and then leave. Are you not going to talk to me, too? No matter how much I ask, how much I beg, he doesn't say a word." Jack turned his back, frustration tensing his shoulders. He slammed his staff on the ground and ice spread out from under him. Jackson stumbled back, stunned. "You left. You were… were you scared? I wonder if he's scared…."
"Jack… I…" Jackson moved closer to the boy. He didn't think he had hurt him. He tried to convince himself he wasn't real. But he was. He had to be. The proof was what he was able to do with the plant and the solidified snow around him. "I'm sorry. I was… I was scared. You weren't… you're different. And that's… we're taught to fear what is different or strange."
"You're different," Jack pointed to Jackson accusingly. "I wasn't scared. Okay, well, I was, but I didn't run away."
He was scared of Jackson? Why? Jackson wasn't anything different. Anything special. He was thin and far from burly or masculine. Not that he was feminine, but he was much more boyish than manly. Which was usually pretty intimidating from Jackson's experience. Point being, Jackson was far from scary.
"Why were you scared of me?" Jackson asked.
"Because… because you weren't like that girl. I could touch you. You could see me. You hear me. She… she never sees me. No matter how much I try." Jack explained. "No one does. And… and I don't know why. And… you're the first person who could see me. I didn't know what would happen. Just… the uncertainty of it all. And why are you different, Jack Overland?"
"Says the boy with white hair who freezes things." Jackson said flatly.
Jack's eyebrow rose. "You can't?"
"Uh… no?" Jackson crossed his arms. "Nobody can."
"Oh," Jack frowned. His eyes downcast and he leaned against his staff thoughtfully. This was news to him. He wasn't aware that nobody could perform this… magic that Jack Frost could. Frost. Jack Frost. His name fit his power. What if…
"Are… are you a god?"
Jack furrowed his brows. "I… I don't think so. What's a 'god?'"
… What did Jack know? It seemed as if everything was so new to him. That he questioned everything and was full of curiosity. He paid attention when Jackson did not. If this bush was full of berries, that would mean the cold animals would find it for food. But they avoided it, so it would be dangerous, wouldn't it? Jack had noticed that. Jackson had not. But Jack did not know what a home was. Or a god. What else didn't he know?
"What are you?" Jackson asked. This time, he wouldn't run away. He would wait for Jack Frost to answer. He wasn't scared anymore.
Jack thought for a moment. He toed the snow under his feet that only just marked his presence when he forced it. Jackson had not noticed the lack of footprints. Jack rested his head on his staff, struggling to come up with something. Finally, he sighed.
"I don't know."