Long Silent Night

by Berryhill, Shane

  “Cool!” I say as I start to reach for a button labeled Renaissance.

  The senior fed slaps my hand away. “You are not authorized to use the time-evator!”

  I shrug as the junior fed hits the button for present day. We bullet upward, the different floors passing us like stripes on a human highway. Moments later, the time-evator reaches our floor and slams to a halt. You’d expect the momentum would’ve of made us all greasy spots on the ceiling. But, once again, thanks to fairy magic, that’s not the case.

  The time-evator doors open to reveal a gigantic room, every time piece imaginable adorning its walls. But that’s not what takes my breath away. It’s the sight of Dee.

  She’s as beautiful as ever, even dressed in her executive power-suit—black of course. The matching hat and half-veil make her look more suited for a funeral than a day in the office, though. But then, what else would you expect from a Halloweenian?

  The initial shock of seeing her fades, and I realize she’s seated upon the mayor’s desk. She’s facing away from him, but leaning back to whisper something in his ear. It’s the kind of closeness I once shared with her and I am instantly jealous of his Honor.

  “Hello, Delilah,” I say and they finally notice the feds and I are in the room.

  “Jack,” Dee walks toward me with wide, welcoming arms.

  I stick my hand out for her to shake. She bypasses it and squeezes her arms around me.

  “Oh, Jack! I’m so glad you came.”

  She smells of candied apples and autumn breezes. Old Habits take over and my arms cover her like snow blanketing the ground. She pulls away from me and I feel like a human who’s had his winter-coat snatched off him while in the middle of a blizzard.

  The mayor clears his throat from his new position behind Dee.

  “Oh, where are my manners?” Dee says. “Jack, this is the mayor, Father Time.”

  Father Time looks just like you’d expect—ancient. Long, flowing robes—check. Long, white beard—check. A crown of holly—check. Magical staff with the hourglass head—double check.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Frost,” Father Time says as he shakes my hand.

  “Likewise,” I say, and before I can help myself, “How is your lovely wife, these days?”

  If he perceives my verbal jab, he shows no sign of it. In fact, his face turns quite forlorn.

  “Oh, Mother Nature is taking this whole mess quite badly, I’m afraid, what with the birth of Baby New Year now being indefinitely on hold.”

  “The spell of eternal night, Jack,” Dee clarifies. “The New Year can’t very well ring in until Christmas passes, after all.”

  What an insensitive snowflake I am! I mentally kick myself. His family is suffering from this, just like mine. And Dee is Father Time’s assistant. It is only natural they would be close.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” I say.

  “It’s quite alright, Jack. May I call you Jack?”

  “Certainly, your honor.”

  “Please! Call me FT.”

  Father Time’s sadness turns to concern and he places a hand on my shoulder. “But I’m being selfish. I can only imagine how hard it is for your own father to have been kidnapped.”

  “It’s been hardest for Mom.” I say.

  “Yes, of course,” Time says. “Jack, the state of our families—and the state of time in general—is precisely why I wanted to see you.”

  He gestures toward Dee. “Delilah has told me about all the cases you’ve solved at the North Pole.”

  “They weren’t so hard to solve, your honor. Nine times out of ten it was the Awgwas to blame.”

  “And humble, too!” Father Time says beaming at Dee, “Oh, I like this boy, Dee.”

  Smiling like that, Father Time reminds me somewhat of Pop, and I think how it’s hard not to warm to this man—in the non-literal sense, of course.

  “He’s not so bad once you get to know him,” Dee says smiling at me. My heart lights up like a Christmas tree.

  “Anyway, your prowess as an investigator is why I’d like you to partner with City Hall on this case.”

  Whoa. That came out of left-field. “What, me? I don’t know. Anyway, can’t you just hop in that time-evator back there and see who did kidnap my pop?”

  “Normally, yes.” Father Time says, “But I’m afraid, the time-evator’s magic is having some glitches where the past few days are concerned. We should be able to work out the bugs in a century or two.

  “But anyway, who better to solve a kidnapping at the North Pole than its premiere detective!”

  “I appreciate the offer your honor—”

  “FT.”

  “Uh, FT, really I do. But you see, I don’t do well taking orders. And red tape tends to make me want to melt.”

  Dee shrugs her shoulders. “I told you he was bull-headed.”

  Father Time looks at me and sighs. “You’re certain you won’t reconsider? Technically, you’d still be a civilian and so still eligible for the sizeable reward City Hall is offering—?”

  “The offer’s tempting, FT, really. But I do my best work alone.”

  “Very well,” Father Time says at last. He gestures toward fairy fed senior. She’s stood like a statue by the door with her partner all this time. “At least stay long enough to discuss any leads you may have with my senior officers,”

  Dee looks at her watch. “It will have to be after the press conference. Jasmine and Romeo are on security detail.”

  The feds, now named as Jasmine and Romeo, nod in unison.

  “Of course,” Father Time says. He keeps talking, but I lose the rest of his words as I glance at Dee from the corner of my eye. She is in a silent, dreamlike world before me, her head nodding and her lips moving in slow motion.

  Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, a small voice tells me I should stop staring. If I’m ever going to find Pop, I’ve got to keep my head free of distractions. But that voice is quickly silenced by the unyielding song the vision of Dee creates inside me.

  Up to the mayor’s office Jack rode,

  To speak with Father Time in his abode.

  He made the trip in a time-evator.

  It can time-travel back, forward, to now or later.

  Dee was there, whispering in Father Time’s ear.

  It made Jack want to kick the mayor’s rear!

  But then Jack wanted to kick himself,

  For being an insensitive frosty elf.

  Jack was hurt with his Pop gone,

  But his wasn’t the only sad song.

  Father Time also had reason to mourn

  His son, Baby New Year, couldn’t be born.

  For unless Santa ended the spell of eternal night,

  The Christmas dawn would never light.

  Time would stand still forever and ever,

  With no shifting of seasons or changing of weather.

  “So listen, Jack, here’s the situation:

  “We want you to lead City Hall’s investigation.”

  “Thanks for the offer,” Jack said, “I know it’s heartfelt.

  “But government red-tape simply makes me melt!”

  Chapter 6

  The press room is a large auditorium—one already brimming with reporters from all the Holiday worlds and several others. I take a spot against a wall near the front. The cameras of bunny rabbits, cupids, and vamps flash like unending machine gun fire as Father Time joins Dee, Jasmine, Romeo, and a very sad and pregnant Mother Nature on stage. He takes his place behind a podium and speaks into the horn of plenty mounted atop it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, members of City Council, and friends viewing at home, thank you all for giving of your precious time to hear me today.

  “As many of you may already know, we, the members of the known worlds, currently face one of the most desperate crises to have occurred on record. Santa Claus has been kidnapped.”

  Murmurs run throughout the room like an electric current. Father Time raises a singl
e hand and, after several moments, the room quiets once more.

  “Our hearts go out to Santa, his family, his reindeer, and his elves. If that were all that faced us this day, that would truly be severe enough. However, I’m saddened to say that is not the extent of our problems.

  “When Santa was taken, he had already invoked the spell of eternal night—a spell given to him by my forefathers generations ago—in order to go about his good works on Christmas Eve.

  “I’m afraid, until Santa can be found, and the last present delivered to the last human boy and girl, time will be effectively frozen and the shadow of night will cover us indefinitely.”

  Fear and confusion in the form of alarmed chatter spread through the room once more. I suddenly feel a slight draft of cold air, one imperceptible to everyone else. But cold is my life’s blood and I feel its presence in any form, no matter how minute. I sense its origin in the balcony and scan the area.

  “In kidnapping Santa,” Father Time continues, “these terrorists—I call them terrorists, for in perpetrating this attack upon Santa they have perpetrated an attack upon my family, the peoples of the known worlds, and time itself—must be brought to justice at any cost!”

  The balcony windows are all closed. The draft couldn’t have come from there. There must be something else. Something I’m overlooking.

  “I’m glad to report,” Father Time continues, “our police forces in the North Pole have already apprehended a suspect for questioning.

  “I regret such a tragedy has occurred in this late hour of my tenure as the people’s servant—a time when I should’ve been able to take some much needed rest. However, rest assured, I pledge to do what must be done and stay in office as long as it takes to bring the guilty parties to justice!”

  The press rises to its feet and applause erupts around the room. It’s at this moment I see the open grate of an air conditioning duct dangling from the ceiling. A black-and-white clad pilgrim stands directly below it, aiming a horn-ended musket at Father Time.

  “Death to Christmas!” the pilgrim shouts. “Death to the oppressors!”

  “Gun!” I scream just as the Pilgrim fires his weapon.

  To her credit, Jasmine moves like a bolt of lightning, tackling Father Time to the ground in just enough time for the musket ball to miss its intended target and clip her wing. The room descends into chaos. Holiday archetypes begin running and screaming, trampling over one another in effort to flee.

  Romeo rockets up into the balcony only to receive a whack across the head with the musket stock for his trouble. It knocks him cold. The pilgrim drops the weapon and crashes through one of the balcony windows to escape. I give Dee a quick glance. She is helping the mayor sit up while Mother Nature tends to Jasmine’s wound.

  “Go!” Dee shouts.

  I don’t have to be told twice.

  In the blink of an eye, I form an ice ramp leading to the balcony and skate up it for the window. The act taxes the majority of my magic. It’s a risky move without the Pole’s arctic climate outside to replenish me, but it’s the only way to close the distance to the pilgrim before he can get away.

  In the moonlight, see the pilgrim racing across rooftops in the distance at speeds normally impossible for a human archetype. I give chase.

  Being of fairy, after a fashion, I’m able to achieve greater than normal feats of speed and strength myself. In no time, I’ve closed the gap to only a few yards between us. But his leaping ability is still superior to mine, and he knows it. He chooses a path that takes us over a series of towers, the distance between them spreading farther apart with each one.

  I struggle to make each leap, but he jumps along as though it were a piece of fruit-cake. At last, I’m able to seize the back of his white, puritan collar. But I realize my hold has come at a price, for I look down to see that, in aiming for the pilgrim, I’ve sacrificed my footing.

  The white collar rips off of the pilgrim’s neck and I begin to flail in the air as the ground rushes up to meet me. The fingers of my left hand unexpectedly find a hold on the tower-top edge and my body cracks like a whip. I look down to see I’m dangling by one hand hundreds of stories above the earth.

  I catch the putrid scent of wet dog on the air and look up to see the pilgrim, his face masked by shadow, staring down at me.

  “Give up and I’ll go easy on you.” I say.

  I realize he’s unimpressed with my sarcasm when he places his black leather boot down on my hand, forcing me to release my hold. I yell in pain and drop.

  “Sorry, Pop,” I whisper. Then I whistle like my life depends on it, knowing full well that it does. I hear the faint jingle of bells in the distance and smile.

  Down to the press room, they traveled in twos,

  To fill in reporters on the bad news.

  “Santa Claus has been kidnapped,” Father Time said,

  “Stolen from his home, ripped out of his bed!”

  At his words, the crowd did roar.

  “What else do you know? Tell us more!”

  “I’m afraid it’s worse,” Father Time said forthright.

  “Time has been frozen in the long silent night!”

  Is was right then that Jack noticed,

  A breeze in the room that was the coldest.

  He saw its source, thanks to his luck.

  An assassin had sneaked in through an AC duct.

  “Gun!” Jack shouted, but it was too late.

  The assassin fired, sealing the mayor’s fate.

  But at the last second, a fairy saved the day,

  The gun shot missed. Hip-hip-hooray!

  Jack chased the assassin across the rooftop,

  But the evil pilgrim would not stop.

  Jack grabbed his collar, ripping it off,

  But it made him fall from high aloft!

  Chapter 7

  “I don’t know what I’d have done without you, boy,” I say as I stroke the back of Flash’s head. “It’s all the reindeer moss you want when we get back to the pole!”

  “Jack!” Dee calls as she rushes out onto the City Hall steps to speak with me, “We saw you fall! I was so scared!”

  She flings herself into my arms and I feel like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “If it hadn’t been for Flash’s Superman act back there,” I say, “this ice cube would’ve been crushed into a slushy!” We release one another. “We circled back up to look for the pilgrim—gone like a groundhog who’s seen his shadow.”

  “We’ve got the Holiday Guard scouring the city,” Dee confides. “Another squad has been dispatched to the Thanksgiving world. The mayor may declare martial law over there before this is all over. Who knew their hatred for Christmas ran so deep?”

  “Any prints on the gun or at the scene?”

  Dee shakes her head.

  “Figures.”

  I look down at the collar I snatched from the pilgrim. I managed to keep hold of it even during my fall. There’s an unusual amount of fine, dark hairs lining its surface.

  “Jack, is something wrong?”

  “It’s—” I say, considering my words, “probably nothing, Dee. Just a hunch.”

  “What kind of hunch?” Dee asks.

  I ignore the question.

  “Look, I need to get back to the Pole. Call me if anything turns up. Okay?”

  Dee nods and plants a kiss on my cheek. If I could, I’d be blushing right now.

  “Jack—”

  “Yeah, Dee?”

  “Be careful.”

  I give Dee one long, last look as she turns and walks away. Then I mount Flash and before you can say ‘Merry Christmas,’ we’re flying out the Pole side of the aurora borealis.

  The cold hits my face and I immediately feel like myself again, full of sleet and snow. I ask Flash to hang around while I make a pit stop by my igloo to make sure the polar bear cub hasn’t totally eaten me out of house and home.

  Of course, he has.

  The cub sits in the middle of my living room, pawi
ng at his stuffed belly.

  “Can I get you anything else?” I ask. “A Christmas goose? Perhaps a full grown buffalo would be more to your liking?”

  My sarcasm is lost on him.

  I pick up the snow globe and call mom.

  “Hello?”

  “Mom. It’s Jack.”

  “Jack! I saw Father Time’s press conference on the globe! Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Thank Great Ak! I was so worried! Did they catch the shooter?”

  “I’m afraid not, Mom. He got away. But I’ve got a lead, so don’t you worry. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  “I—” mom says, not sounding too convinced, “I know you’re doing your best, son. I’ll always love you and be proud of you, no matter what happens.”

  “I’m going to find him, Mom.”

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  “Your father would be proud of you, too. He always was.”

  “I know.”

  “I love you Jack.”

  “I know.”

  I end the call and stare down at the pilgrim’s collar in my hand, once again noticing the hairs lining its surface. Proper procedure would’ve been to turn it over to the feds to check out. But I didn’t want to risk them fouling it up. Not when Pop’s life may be at stake.

  I make another call on the globe.

  “Speak!” A faceless voice commands from the other end.

  “Fred, it’s Jack.”

  “Yo, what up, J?”

  “I need your help.”

  “Well, homie, I got the skills to pay the bills! Know what I’m sayin’?”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen...Ugh! What’s that smell?”

  I look up to see my apparently new roommate standing near the wall with one furry leg hiked up as he marks his territory. He turns and looks at me and I swear he’s grinning.

  “Nutcrackers!”

  Jack brought up his hands and whistled for his life,

  And Flash the reindeer sliced through the air like a knife!