Long Silent Night

by Berryhill, Shane

  I taunt him. It’s the only weapon I’ve got against him. I mean, you ever try to freeze a snowman? A real one? It’s as hard as you’d think! “Funny. And here I thought the Old Man was the one who left me alone down south that time to thaw.”

  “Character builder. He was trying to toughen you up.”

  “Oh yeah? Well what about—”

  “I’m really enjoying this jaunt down memory lane, Jack, but I have my orders.”

  “You always were my old man’s favorite trick dog, Bominable.”

  “Get on board, Frost. Now.”

  “I’ll skate on my own, thanks.”

  Bominable scowls. He’ll be on thin ice with the Old Man for not following orders in full. But at the same time, he can’t very well put the snowdrift on me since, technically, I’m the Old Man’s son.

  “I’ll lead,” I command him. “You follow.”

  He grunts, having little choice but to obey. But that doesn’t stop Bominable from getting his licks in.

  “The Old Man won’t always be around to protect you, Frost. And with you wanting nothing to do with the family business, guess who’s next in line for the job?

  “That’s something you should think about. Especially late at night when you’re all alone in that cute little igloo of yours.”

  “Sticks and stones, Bominable,” I say and then quickly turn around so he can’t see my blue face turn white. The reaction has nothing to do with my headache.

  We reach the mountain even faster than Bominable reached me. With the storm, I can’t see the ice fortress at the peak, but I know the Old Man’s up there, peering down at me from his watchtower, the usual emotions of disappointment and disgust in his face.

  The feeling’s mutual, Old Man.

  The mountainside is a sheer cliff of ice, rock, and snow. Insurmountable.

  “Should we knock?” I ask.

  Bominable smiles and chills run down my spine again as he reveals his fangs. At that moment, a gigantic, inverted tornado of swirling ice and snow drops out of the clouds and snakes its way downward. The earth shakes beneath our feet as it impacts the ground directly before us. When at last the tornado dissipates, an enormous ramp of frozen snow that climbs the entire length of mountainside is left behind. We stare at it for a moment, the silence of snow falling around us somehow foreboding in the wake of the twister’s roar.

  Bominable cracks his whip and sends the snow wolves scrambling up the newly created slope, breaking our trance. I skate after, building speed to get back in front. Sure, I’m on edge about seeing the Old Man, but I’ll be thawed and cooked before I let him know it!

  We reach the Old Man’s medieval ice castle and it’s so cold, even I want to shudder—but I don’t. Bominable calls off the snowmen guarding the entrance. These snowmen aren’t the furry kind like Bominable. They’re the real deal. And like all the Old Man’s soldiers, they bring new meaning to the lyrics ‘Thumpity-thump-thump, look at Frosty go.’ They scowl at me with their soulless coal eyes over their orange carrot beaks.

  “Tough crowd.” I mutter as we enter.

  We pass giant icicle pillars and, if I didn’t know better, what I’d think were the most life-like ice sculptures ever made. You don’t want to make my father angry. Especially here in his own house.

  We reach my father’s throne room and Bominable bids me to wait in the hall. Even this deep in the fortress, I can hear the storm winds blowing outside. There will be a few more additions to my father’s sculpture collection come morning. I pray I won’t be one of them.

  Bominable opens the door and goes in. Through the open door, I see a shuddering Eskimo bent over on one knee, kissing my father’s ice ring in tribute and I’m six years old all over again, both sickened by and in awe of Old Man Winter.

  Bominable reaches the Old Man and whispers in his ear. My father glances up at me through the open door and then shoos the Eskimo away. The native backs out of the room on his hands and knees. Bominable gestures for me to enter and I do.

  Once upon a time, my father would’ve welcomed me with open arms. But those days are long gone. Now the Old Man eases back onto his throne to resume the formality and distance that must remain between king and subject.

  His blue face, silver beard, and fur-lined cloak are full of nothing but cold, hard edges. You’d think he was Pop’s frozen, skinny evil twin. And now that I think about it, maybe he is. They both hail from Immortal stock, after all.

  “So, Jack,” my father says as he gestures for me to enter, “Have you finally returned home to admit the error of your ways and take your place within the family?”

  We’ve been down this ski slope before. I ignore the question. “What do you know about Santa?”

  “I hear he’s fat and relatively jolly.”

  “Don’t try to snow-job me, Old Man. Santa’s missing—kidnapped right out of the castle.”

  “Yes. I’ve heard. I’ve also heard Alfie’s got Frankie the Gobbler in lock-up over it as we speak.”

  “Then you may have also heard I think that’s nutcrackers—that the real kidnapper or kidnappers escaped without a trace—thanks to your snowstorm.”

  The Old Man cocks a frosted, pointy eyebrow and smiles. “Am I being accused...son?”

  “You’re too smart to have loused up the crime scene. But no one does anything at the Pole without your okay.”

  The Old Man guffaws at this and the winds that have been blowing outside rise to hurricane strength.

  “Really Jack,” he says once he’s regained composure, “you give me too much credit. Your father is Old Man Winter, but he’s not the end-all-be-all of this realm...or any other.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying there are powers in the holiday worlds that are not beholden to your Old Man—forces that are beyond even my censure or reproach.”

  I sigh. “You’re not going to tell me what you know, are you?”

  Old Man Winter leans out of his throne and gives me the Frosty Eye. Not to freeze me, which would pretty much be impossible, but to let me know how serious he is.

  “Jack—son—I’ve told you plenty.”

  His gaze leaves me as he straightens in his chair. “Bominable will show you out.”

  Alone, without out aid, Jack set out to roam,

  In the Pole’s badlands, a place he once called home.

  Over snowdrift and slope, he skated to find,

  A dastardly suspect of an unusual kind.

  Jack was almost there when he looked up to see,

  A vision so scary he wanted to flee!

  Bominable the monster came cracking his whip,

  On his shoulder, he bore Jack a chip.

  Off to Old Man Winter’s castle they went,

  To see this crime boss so crooked and bent.

  All the way there Bominable did Jack bother,

  About Old Man Winter being Frost’s real father!

  “That may be true,” Jack said. “But he didn’t raise me.

  “It was Santa Claus himself who swooped in and saved me.

  “He took me for his son, him and his wife,

  “To love and cherish and keep free from strife.”

  They found Winter sitting upon his throne,

  His gaze so cold it chilled even Jack’s bones!

  “Where is Santa?” is what Jack said.

  But Winter didn’t know and Jack began to feel dread.

  Chapter 4

  “Nutcrackers!” I reach the igloo and find that, not only is my new furry little friend still hanging around, but he’s made himself perfectly at home. In other words, the place is trashed.

  “Hey, skate out of here, you!”

  The cub looks up from the snow cone he’s pilfered from the icebox and tilts his head at me quizzically.

  “Jingle all the way out of here, right now!”

  He glances at me another second, gives a small bark, and then returns to the snow cone.

  “Yeah, I need a drink, too.”

&
nbsp; I wade through the fish now carpeting my floor to get some eggnog from the icebox. Hey, why not? It’s Christmas Eve somewhere—everywhere, in fact, forever and ever unless I can break this case.

  I take the eggnog carton from the icebox and turn it up. It’s sweet going down my throat and the dull pounding I’ve had in my head since the evening began softens.

  I wipe my mouth and ponder my visit with the Old Man. I don’t think he’s behind this. Pop is one of the few legitimate outfits the Old Man is associated with, and he wouldn’t want to ruin that. You don’t sleet where you eat, after all. And Pop being gone means bad business for the Old Man.

  But there’s something he’s not telling me. That’s obvious.

  The snow-globe jingles but I let the recorder catch it. Alfie’s shouting voice begins to echo throughout the igloo.

  “Frost! I’ve got feds crawling all over the castle. If I find out you’re the one who called them—!”

  I glide over to a window of clear ice to watch the aurora borealis through the falling snow. It always helps me think. I take another sip of eggnog.

  I’ve told you plenty, the Old Man said. I didn’t hear him say anything unless you count all that caroling about powers beyond him.

  Was that his way of saying someone outside of the family was behind Pop’s disappearance? Someone powerful enough not only to kidnap Santa here on my father’s turf without his aid, but to force the Old Man to keep quiet about it? Chris Cringle! If that’s the case, this little snow storm just got upgraded to a blizzard!

  The globe jingles again and a female voice, one low and sultry, sashays out of its speakers. “Jack. It’s Dee. Jack I just heard. I’m so—”

  I whirl and skate over to the globe. “Dee,” I say as I snatch it up. It’s a voice call only—no image. Dee always was one to keep to the shadows.

  “Jack,” there’s relief when her voice comes again. “Jack, I thought you weren’t home.”

  “I’m here in frost if not in spirit. I guess you’re calling about Pop?”

  “Yes. I called to tell you how sorry I am. But the mayor also wanted me to let you know he was furious when he heard—both about the kidnapping and the fact that Alfie didn’t call it in. The larger ramifications of Santa’s disappearance place this under HolidayTown jurisdiction, after all.”

  “What can I say? You know Alfie.”

  “The mayor sent the Holiday Guard down to take over the case immediately. But he’d like to hear your thoughts.”

  “His honor’s interested in what little ol’ me has to say?”

  “Please, Jack. He knows how good you are. I’ve made sure of it.”

  “And here I thought we’d agreed to never kiss and tell.”

  There’s a long pause before Dee responds. “Those were good times, weren’t they, Jack?”

  “The best, Dee.”

  “Will you come, Jack?”

  “For you, Dee. Always.”

  There’s another long pause. “I’ll tell him to expect you. Goodbye, Jack.”

  She hangs up before I can return the farewell. I take another pull off the eggnog and stare off into the northern lights. It’s been over a century since I last saw Dee and I’d be lying if I said hearing her voice didn’t rattle me. Family and friends are good at doing that to you. Especially over the holidays. And this is turning out to be a Christmas for the books.

  I turn up the last of the eggnog and head for the icebox. “Keep the home-fires extinguished while I’m gone,” I say to the polar bear cub as I go. He’s engrossed in a half-frozen cod and pays me no mind.

  I take a forever carrot out of the icebox. I’ve it had since the last time I went down the Bunny Trail. Then I exit the igloo. I notice the storm’s begun to let up and decide to take it as a good omen.

  I put my fingers to my mouth and give a whistle that carries for miles. Ice and snow aren’t the only talents in my bag of tricks. A few moments pass before I hear the faint jingle of bells in the distance. Seconds later, I see something flying down through the sky. It lands in front of me and trots over on four legs.

  “Hey, Flash, old boy!” I say as I pet the reindeer’s neck and feed it the forever carrot. He finishes it in two bites and then nuzzles against my chest. It will simply be easier to get around HolidayTown with Flash. Plus, you haven’t lived until you’ve rocketed through the aurora borealis on a flying reindeer!

  I climb on Flash’s back and he lets out a deep grunt.

  “Hey, no fair. I’ve thawed five pounds since last winter!”

  I take Flash’s jingling reigns in my hands. “Giddiup!” I say. He doesn’t move.

  “Up, up, and away!” Nothing.

  “Please?” Flash shakes his head, jingling his reigns. “You’re going to make me say it aren’t you?”

  Flash nods.

  “Oh, come on, Flash. I mean, this is ridiculous! I don’t understand why we always have to...”

  Flash paws the snow in impatience. I sigh in defeat and bark the words.

  Now, Flasher! On, Flasher! The fastest reindeer!

  To the yonder blue, without any fear!

  To the top of the clouds! To the sky so high!

  Now Dash away! Dash away! Dash away! Fly!”

  We leave the ground so fast a trail of snow a mile long follows us in the vacuum created in Flash’s wake. We go supersonic and the boom shakes the frost from both my clothes and Flash’s fur.

  We dive into the lights and it’s like being inside a Fourth of July fireworks show. How long we’re in there surfing the light streams, I don’t know. Minutes? Days? Eons? It could be any of those.

  But when Flash breaks out the other side, it feels like coming off the world’s craziest rollercoaster. My head keeps swimming and body keeps shaking, neither convinced the ride’s over. My mind finally freezes still again and I smile as I take in a flying reindeer’s eye view of Holiday Town at night.

  How can I begin to describe HolidayTown? Imagine an entire city made up of gigantic Bavarian castles, Asian temples, and Egyptian pyramids. Now imagine it lit up like a Christmas tree with electronic billboards, flashing neon signs, and swaying floodlight beams and you being to get the picture.

  It’s a wondrous thing to behold at night, like the biggest field of fireflies you’ve ever seen. Don’t think I haven’t seriously considered moving my office to this side of the aurora borealis. But things being what they are, I couldn’t afford the cooling bill.

  Flash is halfway through a spiraling arc around H-Town when I see two incoming streaking upward to meet us.

  “We’ve got company, Flash.”

  The reindeer grunts.

  Seconds later, two butterfly-winged fairies with Holiday Guard sashes are flying alongside us.

  Feds.

  Unlike their distant cousins, the Christmas elves, feds are naturally long and lean to the point of frailty. However, their looks are deceiving. They are powerhouses of magic, and very, very dangerous.

  “Hello, Mr. Frost,” the female fed, apparently the senior officer, says. “I hope you had a pleasant tesseract through the nexus. His Honor the mayor sent us to escort you to City Hall.”

  “Awful lot of fuss for a Pole P.I. and his reindeer.” I say.

  “His Honor wants to see you right away,” the male chimes in, “And what his Honor wants, his Honor gets.”

  “Well,” I say throwing up my hands in surrender, “far be it from me to deny his Honor. Lead the way.”

  Back to his igloo, Jack did skate,

  To mull things over and concentrate.

  His father’s kidnapper he had to find,

  So the wheels in his head he began to grind

  Who benefits? That was the question here,

  One which Jack Frost considered in fear.

  There were dots to connect, gaps to bridge.

  “Nutcrackers!” Jack said. “The cub’s emptied my fridge!”

  Just right then the snow globe rang,

  With a call from Dee, giving Jack heart pangs
.

  He scooped up the phone to answer his old flame.

  She was a mysterious girl, a real classy dame.

  “Oh, Jack,” Dee said, “City Hall wants to help you,

  “Find Santa Claus and stop this coup.”

  “I’m on my way,” Jack said, “to Holiday Town,

  “As soon as the Flash the flying reindeer can be found.”

  Jack whistled for his four-legged ride,

  To fly through him the borealis as his guide.

  Up and away they went through the vortex,

  In H-Town was where they landed next.

  Chapter 5

  Flash and I plummet until we’re only a few stories above the streets. We level off and twist and turn at high velocity between buildings, turrets, streamers, and decorations until we reach City Hall. We land at the steps and I dismount Flash.

  “Stay close, boy,” I say as I pat his neck. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  He grunts and then is off like a shot to find some grass to munch.

  “This way, please,” the senior fed gestures toward the entrance.

  Another female fed with teal blue wings and a scanning wand awaits us just inside the door. I enter and she passes the wand up one side of me and then down the other, scanning me for black magic. Satisfied I’m carrying none, she hands me a visitor’s badge and ushers me farther into the building.

  My fairy escorts take positions on either side of me and lead me through a large, cathedral-like foyer to one of two elevators on the room’s other side. We pass by numerous paintings and busts of Holiday Town mayors past on our way there. The going is slower than usual for me since I don’t have ice and snow to skate over.

  We get the elevator and I notice that, instead of numbers, the buttons to the various floors are labeled with epochs that range from big bang to present day. As you can imagine, there are quite a lot more buttons available here than on your typical elevator—far more than the building’s outward appearance would indicate. Fairy magic at work.