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The Redchester Family Christmas: Snow on Christmas Eve
🕑 Added 2020-12-21 17:52:16 +0000 UTCThis 1,191 word story is the latest installment to the "Redchester Family Christmas" series. None of these stories are connected through anything more than the characters so they can be read in any particular order. Enjoy!
Darren Redchester always enjoyed having his boys back under his roof, even if each of them could be a pain in his ass in their own special way. Ben, the eldest, had a nasty arrogant streak and a dreadful taste in women. Greg, the middle child, was terrible at managing his money and taking responsibility for his actions. Jonas, the youngest son, was a little too naive for his own good and had a tendency to play things safe rather than take risks. Despite their flaws, Darren loved them as much as any father possibly could and he knew that his wife of thirty years, Julia, did the same. They were a happy family who loved to gather together to celebrate the festive season and despite all of the year’s hardships, they weren’t going to let that stop them from seeing it out in style!
After a day of being forced to endure Ben raving about his latest plaything, the Redchester patriarch was in desperate need of a calming moment before he called it a night. Promising his wife that he would join her in the master bedroom soon, he made his way through the large family home and into the garage. After ensuring that nobody had followed him, Darren then removed a small tin case from behind a toolbox and extracted a cigar and lighter from within. He’d managed to convince Julia that he’d quit smoking cigars a few years back but every now and then he still liked to partake, especially on winter evenings when the normally cloying heat had been replaced by a gentle chill.
Stepping out into the back yard, Darren quickly lit up his cigar and took a long drag from it. He began walking down the path and away from the house while casting his eyes up towards the sky. Above him was a blanket of stars, glittering like gemstones. Indeed, there seemed to be something almost magical about that array, more so than any other time Darren had stepped out to admire the night sky. Then again, perhaps he was just getting a little too wrapped up in the Christmas spirit, or maybe the bottle of wine he’d shared with Julia that night had done more of a number on him than he’d anticipated.
With his whole family gathered together under one roof for the first time all year, Darren felt incredibly blessed and thankful. There was only one thing that seemed to be missing though in order to make it the perfect Christmas and that was snow. Having grown up on the east coast, he’d rarely gone a winter in his childhood without building a snowman or getting into snowball fights with his buddies. That sort of weather wasn’t nearly as common in their west coast town, and his sons had only experienced a handful of snowy Christmases when they’d visited Darren’s family back on the east coast. Julia wasn’t the biggest fan of travelling though, so that rarely happened and instead Darren had to make do with the sun.
“What I wouldn’t give for a bit of snow,” the burly fifty-six year old man grumbled in between the puffs of his cigar. His eyes had continued to trace patterns between the sequin stars far above him, and he could have sworn that they seemed to glow a little brighter in response to his words. Really must be the wine, he rationalised. He certainly felt something of a buzz, and after pausing for a few moments, he discovered that the fuzzy sensation was actually beginning to spread throughout his body. “Did one of those punks lace my damn cigars or sumthin’?”
As he inspected his cigar to see if he could spot any irregularities though, something quite remarkable happened: a few drops of snow fell upon him! Understandably startled, Darren turned his attention back to the sky and was taken aback by what he saw. Although it had been clear just moments before, a snowstorm appeared to be in the process of beginning and it was coming down thick! It settled on the grass of the lawn around him and built up at a speed he would have previously thought impossible. A hysterical laugh escaped his lips as he looked adoringly at the heavy snowfall all around him. Maybe there really was some extra Christmas magic in the air after all!
Within moments though the joy that had flooded through Darren was replaced by confusion and then dread, as he made a stunning discovery: he could no longer move his feet! He tried desperately to tear his feet from the ground but even with all of his might he couldn’t make them budge. In fact, the more he struggled, the more the snowstorm seemed to pick up. The snow was attacking him from every direction, clinging to his legs like ivy around an oak tree. It continued to build, layer upon layer, until his lower half was completely imprisoned within a globe of tightly packed snow. Being trapped within such confines had frozen his legs solid and caused him to shiver desperately, but he could do little other than struggle helplessly.
The cigar fell helplessly to the side as the wintery weather continued to berate the Redchester patriarch, eventually pinning his arms to his sides. He tried desperately to call out for help, back up to his sons in the house, but his voice was drowned out by the intensity of the snow storm. Even if any of them were to chance a look out of their windows, they wouldn’t see his plight through the blinding downpour. He was on his own and totally helpless as the snow packed in around his torso and formed a second globe on top of the first.
By that point the only part of him that could still move was his head and neck but even doing that was beginning to feel like a struggle. He was so desperately cold and matters were only getting worse as the snow continued to pile on until he was totally submerged within it. He could no longer breathe, nor see, but he remained very much alive and was capable of feeling everything around him, such as the sensation of having twigs pushed into the sides of his torso, the buttons on his eyes and the carrot into his nose. As a scarf was wrapped around the neck of his snow body, Darren could faintly hear a low rumbling chuckle that trailed off in the direction of the Redchester family home.
The freezing chill was all-consuming. Time and reality became a mere illusion. From within the snowman Darren desperately begged for help but there was nobody to hear him, nor even know what had become of him. The snowstorm had finally settled down and all was quiet in the yard, quiet except for Darren’s thoughts, that was. There was a cacophony of sound in his mind, but one terrifying thought triumphed over all else and filled him with dread: when the sun returned the next day and the west coast warmth caused the snow to melt, what would become of him?
