Andria
hunched her shoulder against the snowfall as she walked into the park. She
liked the park this time of year; few people would venture there and it let her
be alone when she needed it. She walked down the winding path through the trees
following the same route she’d walked since her youth. She marched slowly past
the playgrounds, soccer fields, and skate park; all empty of the over noisy
children who frequented them during warmer days.
Andria
used to come here in the winter with her father. They’d walk around with a
pocket full of bell pepper slices and look for reindeer to feed. They never
found any. Though Andria would always go home and draw pictures of their
adventures to hang on the walls of her room.
A
lone jogger came towards her, the rhythmic thump of their steps intruding on
her introspection. They were dressed in warm clothes and their breath came in a
thick cloud of warmth. As the jogger approached they nodded, gave a short wave,
and called out, “Merry Christmas.”
Andria
ignored them as they sped past barely pausing as their footsteps receded away
into the distance. It wasn’t long before they were gone and she was once again
alone.
Andria
stuffed her cold hands into the front pouch of his plain hooded sweatshirt next
to her spring class guide. She wished momentarily for some gloves. She didn’t
used to need them. Youth had made her invulnerable once, gone were those
reckless days. Back when she was filled with immature dreams that anything
could happen. When possibilities was a word she knew but didn’t fully
understand until they were all gone.
It’d
been four years since she’d been back to the park but she found the old bench
she’d sat on as a girl with no problems. The one her father had left her at
while he went to grab some breakfast. Where the police had found her after the
driver had run the light. Where she learned she’d only have one parent for the
rest of her life.
Andria
wasn’t sure why she’d come back here. She’d thought about it before. Wondered
if it was the last place she’d been happy; sitting here with a pad and colored
pencils, drawing fantastic pictures of whatever popped into her head.
She
sat on the bench without brushing away the snow. It was cold and uncomfortable,
but she didn’t really care. It was just the way it was around here. The way her
life went.
She
leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and let some snow fall on her face.
Saying she liked the feeling of the pin pricks of cold on her face would be to
use the wrong words. She didn’t like it. She recognized it as something to
feel. If there was something from it to gain, she would call it comfort.
“How
you doing?” asked a young voice nearby.
Andria
looked to see who was talking to her.
A
young boy in a red snowsuit with bright mittens and a knit hat with a little
bobble on top sat next to her on the bench.
Andria
leaned back on the bench and looked back at the sky.
“My
names James,” said the boy.
Andria
sighed. “Go find your mother kid,” said Andria.
“That’s
what I’m doing,” said James. He began to kick his legs back and forth rocking
the bench gently.
“You’re
just sitting there,” said Andria. “Don’t you think it would help if you went to
look?”
“Nope,”
said James. “My mother says if we ever get separated I should go to where she’s
sure to find me and wait there. We eat lunch on this bench every Tuesday when
the weather’s good so I figure she’ll come find me here.”
“Fine,”
said Andria. “Can you do it quietly please? I’m trying to think.”
“Sure,”
said James.
Andria
closed her eyes and began pacing her breathing. She let the world fade away and
just feel the cold wind, drops of snow, and the gentle chill in the air. She
did this until there was nothing but her thoughts, the weather, and jingle bells.
Andria
leaned forward, wiped the moisture off of his face and turned to look at James
who had started whistling.
“You’re
very happy,” said Andria.
James
nodded. “Three days till Christmas and I’ve been pretty good this year. There
was a small incident with the family dog and a bottle of purple hair dye that
might still count against me, but I’m pretty sure I’m still doing well.”
Andria
briefly considered asking what type of dog but feared that might just bring on
more questions and decided better of it.
“You
finished thinking?” asked James.
“Apparently,”
said Andria.
“What
were you thinking about?”
“You
wouldn’t understand,” said Andria leaning back against the bench.
“Not
if you don’t tell me,” said James.
“I’m
trying to decide what to do next,” said Andria.
“It’s
just afternoon,” said James. “You could go to a movie.”
“I
was thinking more long term,” said Andria.
“There’s
some pretty good Christmas specials on tonight,” said James. “I’m going to
watch the one about Santa Clause and how he started. It’s one of my favorites.”
“That’s
nice,” said Andria. She’d used to watch it every year with her parents.
“Do
you like that one?” asked James.
“I
know it,” said Andria. “I remember it. It’s fine.”
“AAAhhhh,”
said James as if he’d just discovered the secret to the universe. “You’re one
of those people who doesn’t believe in Santa Claus.”
“That’s
not true,” said Andria not wanting to spoil the holiday for James. “Santa’s
great.”
“It’s
okay,” said James nodding solemnly. “I’m 10. I know some of the older kids don’t
believe in Santa anymore. They think its baby stuff.”
“What
do you think?” asked Andria.
“I
don’t understand,” said James. “Santa Claus is great. Why wouldn’t someone want
to believe in him?”
“Really,”
said Andria. “Maybe they think they’re too old for him.”
“I
guess that’s possible,” said James standing up and pacing back and forth in
front of the bench. “It’s just that I don’t think Santa Claus has an age
limit.”
“Really,”
said Andria chuckling; she hadn’t done that in a while.
“Hear
me out,” said James. “I’ve been thinking about this. I don’t think its Santa
they don’t believe in anymore. I think they’ve just stopped believing in
everything.”
“How
do you figure that?” asked Andria.
“It’s
everywhere I look,” said James. “Everybody looks to be more serious all the
time. Nobody has time for wonder anymore. Everybody I know is upset All The Time.
My family, my brother, even my folks are always upset about something in the
paper or on the news. When they’re not angry, they’re sad, or annoyed. I think
it’s because they think they’re not allowed to believe in stuff anymore.”
“I’ll
agree with that,” said Andria. “I see that in my friends and family too.
Wherever I go online there are people mad at one another.”
“That’s
what I’m saying,” said James. “I think it’s because they decided to stop
believing in magic.”
“You
think magic is that important?” asked Andria.
“Yes,”
said James. “It has to be. Everyone I know who believes in magic is happy. My
friends who still believe went out and built a snow fort last weekend. We threw
snowballs at one another and had a proper war for the kingdom of the park. The
swings was our battlefield and the slide our castle. We fought bravely until
dark and our mothers came to get us. Yesterday, I made a snowman with my little
sister; her name was Eevee. The snowman, not my sister. My sister’s name is
Lydia. Today, I came to the park with my mother to feed the reindeer.” James
reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of broken carrots and a single
candy cane. “We didn’t find any.”
“It
sounds like you had a great week,” said Andria. “Sorry you didn’t find any
reindeer.”
“Not
today,” said James looking off at the woods and squinting. “Not today.”
“You
should bring bell pepper slices,” said Andria. “Reindeer like bell peppers; my
dad used to tell me it’s because they’re sweeter.”
“Thanks,”
said James. “I’ll remember that.” James walked back to his spot on the bench
and climbed up and sat down again. “You see what I mean about magic though.”
“Not
really,” said Andria. “You didn’t need magic to do any of that stuff.”
“True,”
said James. “When was the last time you did any of that stuff?”
“That’s
different,” said Andria. “I’m too old to do those things.”
“Age
has nothing to do with it,” said James. “You’ve just decided you can’t do it
because you’re old. You’re too serious to make a snowball.”
“That’s
not it,” said Andria.
“Do
you have arthritis?” asked James. “My grandmother has arthritis and can’t move
her fingers right to make a snowball.” James cupped his hands as if trying to demonstrate
hooked fingers through his mittens.
Andria
laughed. “My fingers are fine.” Andria held up her hands and wiggled her
fingers to show her hands worked. “You’ll understand as you grow up.”
“I
hope not,” said James. “I never want to think I’m too old to throw a snowball
at my buddies or make a snowman. As long as I believe in magic, I know I can do
those things.”
“I
guess,” said Andria.
“Then
when I’m done, I’m going to tell everyone the story,” said James. “People need
to hear the stories.”
“You
do that,” said Andria.
“Do
you mind if I tell people about the bell pepper thing?” asked James.
Andria
paused for a moment trying to think about what James meant before realizing
what he was asking. “Tell everybody,” said Andria. “Let everybody know how to
find the reindeer.”
“You
should tell people too,” said James.
“I’m
not a story teller,” said Andria.
“What
can you do?” asked James.
“I
used to draw,” said Andria. “I was pretty good at it too. I stopped when…I
stopped.”
“You
should start drawing again,” said James. “People need to see pictures. It helps
remind them that magic is real.” James stood up off the bench and started
walking away.
“I
thought you were waiting for you mom?” asked Andria.
“Can’t
you hear her calling me?” asked James. “She’s just over that hill.” James
stopped and returned to the bench. He pulled a carrot form him pocket and
handed it to Andria. “I know it’s not a pepper but just in case you start
believing in magic again.”
Andria
looked at the carrot, it was bent and beaten, but it was a nice carrot. She
looked up to give it back to James, but the boy was gone.
Andria
sat on the bench for a long time staring at the lone carrot. After a bit she
tucked it into the front pouch of her hoodie and pulled out her class schedule.
She thumbed through it for a bit and looked at the art section. There were a
couple of drawing classes that might be fun. She still hadn’t declare a major,
maybe art would be neat. She folded the page down for later and tucked the book
away.
She
stood and began walking out of the park humming to herself and wondering what she
would do tomorrow. Andria pulled the carrot from his pocket and took a bite out
of the vegetable. The loud crunch echoing off the trees around her. She rounded
the bend on the twisting path through the woods and there in front of her,
standing patiently as if it had been waiting all day, was a great brown
reindeer.
fin
There we are. I hope Andria enjoys meeting the reindeer.
As with every year, I hope you all had/have/are having a wonderful holiday you deserve it.
Good vibes to you all.
Until next time, stay safe and be well.
