Hope at Christmas

by Nancy Naigle

  He welcomed the next child in line with open arms. The little boy ran up and into his arms at full speed. Mac grabbed him in the air like a line drive and then swung him up onto his knee in one swoop. He didn’t even get a good ho-ho-ho out and the boy was rattling down a list that, if he wasn’t mistaken, may have been in alphabetical order.

  He was pretty sure this was the fourth time in a week he’d seen this one, too. The line was extra long tonight. That always happened as Christmas Eve approached. Last-minute additions to the visits they’d made prior, or the children who’d skipped coming sooner because they weren’t sure if it was still cool to believe. He loved it when they gave in to believe another year, just in case.

  A steady stream of kids poured through their line.

  Just as the next kid was about to step past the rope to wait for his turn, Rebecca clotheslined him and ran up the steps toward Mac.

  She never came up to him. They always texted any information that was needed. Had his phone died? He reached for it, but the display was still lit.

  She didn’t even wait for the boy on his knee to take a breath, just leaned in and cupped her hand to his ear.

  “It’s an emergency. It’s Seth.” She shoved a phone into his hand and he never heard what she was saying to the little boy as she helped him down from Mac’s lap and guided him back to his mom.

  Mac got up out of the chair and stepped behind the giant Santa throne.

  “Seth? What is it?” But all Mac could make out from the other end of the phone were the words

  DAD.

  ACCIDENT.

  HELP.

  “Calm down, son. I can’t understand you.” But his heart was pounding. “Where are you?”

  “Home. Back at the big turn. It’s bad. Dad. You have to come.”

  Rebecca was back at his side, worry etching her young face.

  “Are you okay? Is that the four-wheeler I hear?”

  “Yes. It’s Ray. You have to help me. I can’t get her up.”

  “Ray? RayAnne? What’s she doing there?”

  “She’s hurt. She showed up and I was cleaning the four-wheelers and she took off on one. She went over the edge at the end of the big hairpin. Dad. She’s hurt bad. She’s bleeding. I’m scared.”

  “Where’s Haley?”

  “At the house. Hurry, Dad.”

  “Don’t touch RayAnne. Don’t try to get her up. Is she talking to you?”

  “She was crying, not making sense.”

  “Are you with her now?” Mac asked.

  “Yes. She doesn’t want me to leave.”

  “Is she still crying?”

  Seth’s voice choked. “No she’s quiet. Just making noises.

  “She’s probably in shock. Take your coat off and put it over her. Don’t let her move. I’m calling an ambulance and I’m on my way. Keep talking to her.”

  “I don’t know if she can hear me.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Keep talking to her. Tell her she’s going to be okay, and help is on the way.”

  Rebecca left.

  He could hear Seth talking, but he didn’t hear a response.

  “Can you reach up and hit the kill switch on the ATV?”

  “I think so.”

  The roaring engine went quiet. “Good. Stay on the phone with me, buddy.”

  “Okay.”

  Before Mac got down the steps, Rebecca was back at his side with another phone. “Here’s another phone.”

  He said, “Dial 911 for me. Quick. It’s an emergency.”

  She dialed it and handed him the phone. “Go. We’ll handle everything here.” She’d already put a BE RIGHT BACK sign in front of his chair.

  Mac walked as calmly as he could so as not to frighten the kids and parents still waiting in line, and then sprinted to his dressing room to get his keys. He called for an ambulance as he ran.

  “This is Kevin MacAlee.” He spit out the address trying to talk slow and clear even though his mind was reeling at full speed.

  “What’s your emergency, sir?”

  “Ten-year-old girl wrecked on an ATV. She’s pinned underneath. Bleeding. My son is with her.”

  “Is there access from the street?”

  “Take the dirt road to the right of the house all the way to the back. Go through the gate. Follow the path to a fork. Take a right at the fork. There’s a hairpin turn. That’s where they are. I’m on my way.” He grabbed his keys and turned to leave, realizing he was still in full gear. No time to remedy that now.

  “Is the road passable in a vehicle?”

  “Yes. I’ve driven it in my truck.” Mac ran through the alley behind the buildings toward his truck.

  “Are both of them your children, sir?”

  “No. My son is with her. His name is Seth.”

  “Do you know the victim’s name?”

  The twenty questions were pissing him off. “Yes. It’s RayAnne Ragsdale. Have you dispatched someone yet?”

  “Yes sir. They’re on the way. If you can stay on the line with me, I just need as much information as you can give me.”

  “Fine.”

  “Your son is still with her?”

  “Yes, I have him on the other line.” He fumbled with the two phones as he climbed into his truck.

  “Keep him on the line. Tell him we’re on the way. And tell him to let you know when he hears the sirens.”

  He bobbled the phone and lifted the other. “Seth. You there?”

  “Dad. I’m scared.”

  “Help is on the way. Let me know when you hear the sirens okay?”

  “Okay, Dad. She’s not talking to me. I can feel her heartbeat, but I’m scared. There’s a lot of blood on her head.”

  He needed to contact Sydney, but between a phone in his lap, one against his shoulder, and trying to drive, he was out of options. And just how the heck did RayAnne get to his house without Sydney?

  If RayAnne was seriously hurt, Sydney would never forgive him. Head wounds always made for a lot of blood and a scary sight. He prayed it wasn’t as bad as Seth made it sound.

  He pressed the speaker button on the phone with dispatch and laid it on the seat, holding the one with Seth on the line.

  “I hear the sirens,” Seth screamed. “I don’t see the lights yet.”

  It was dark. And cold, too. “Stay right where you are. Do you have the flashlight? There’s one in the pack on the four-wheeler, remember? Can you get to it?”

  “I don’t know. Let me try.”

  Mac stared into the night. His headlights slashing through the darkness as he sped down the street.

  Seth’s voice was steadier. “I got it.”

  “Turn on the flashlight and aim it toward the path.”

  “Okay.” Seth’s voice was shaky, but he’d regained composure. At least he was responding to direction.

  Mac drove as fast as he could. It wasn’t but a few miles and by the time he got to his house the road was lined with emergency vehicles and an array of red, blue, and white flashing lights.

  He drove as far as he could then jumped out of his truck, leaving it running. He’d have to run the rest of the way.

  Mac knew most of the guys working fire and rescue. He trusted these men, but right now all he wanted was to be there himself.

  “Sir?” someone shouted. “I need you to stop right there.”

  Mac turned to see his old buddy from high school, Johnny Ray, in his deputy uniform.

  “Stop,” Johnny Ray said again. “You can’t go back there, sir.”

  Sir? Mac’s mind spun. What the heck? We’ve been friends for …

  Then it dawned on Mac that he was still dressed like Santa. “It’s me, man. Mac. Seth’s back there with RayAnne.”

  “Mac? Go, man. Your boy is okay.” He waved him on, and Mac dug down into a full-out run. He was still another sixty yards or so from the pole gate when the ambulance came toward him. They’d gotten to RayAnne quickly. Thank goodness. In the wash of light from the ambulance headlights, he
saw Haley standing with Seth near the gate.

  The ambulance blasted by, lights flashing.

  Mac ran over to them. Seth’s eyes were swollen red, his hair a sweaty mess even in the cool night. He looked confused, and Haley looked shaken.

  She’d probably never have kids after all Seth had put her through this week.

  “Seth. Are you okay?” He grabbed both of Seth’s arms.

  “Santa?” Seth said.

  “It’s me. Yes. Come here.” He pulled him into a hug.

  “Dad?” Seth looked to Haley, then stepped back looking a little freaked out.

  “Yes. You did good, son. I’m proud of you.”

  “Why are you dressed like that?”

  The jig was up now. No way around that. “I’ll explain. But right now, come on, we’re going to the hospital.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mac,” Haley said. “I didn’t even know she was at the house.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Let’s keep our priorities straight. Blame is not one of those.”

  The hospital was a good forty-five-minute drive.

  They jumped into Mac’s truck. Once they turned onto the main road, Mac tried to call Sydney, but her phone went straight to voice mail over and over again.

  The first twenty minutes of the ride no one said a word.

  Mac pressed redial to Sydney, but the call still didn’t get through. He dropped his phone into the console.

  “Are you okay, Seth?”

  Seth nodded.

  “What got into you?” Mac asked. He was trying hard to keep his cool, but he’d thought he’d taken every precaution to be sure those four-wheelers wouldn’t present a danger. He needed answers. “Why would you ride without me? We had a deal.”

  “I didn’t. Dad, I swear.” Seth straightened in his seat and crossed his heart. “I wouldn’t break that promise. Ever.”

  “How is she? Did they say anything when the paramedics got there?” Mac looked to Seth, then caught Haley’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

  Haley pulled her arms tight around herself. “I’m not sure, Mac. It didn’t look good.” Her lips quivered as she spoke. “There was a lot of blood and they carried her out on one of those board things. I hope it was just a precaution, but they were hurrying. No one gave us any information. I’m sorry, Mac. I can’t believe this happened.”

  “This is not your fault, Haley.”

  He turned to Seth. “Tell me everything. Start at the top.”

  “It’s weird talking to Santa.”

  “I’m sorry. I have explaining to do too. But that’s going to wait.” Even if he took the suit off, that beard wasn’t going anywhere without a little work.

  Seth wiped his hand across his forehead. “She showed up on her bicycle. Her dad isn’t coming for Christmas now. He’s such a jerk.”

  Mac would normally call Seth out for saying something like that about an adult, but in this case he couldn’t disagree. He wondered how someone like Sydney could have been with someone like that. What was wrong with that guy?

  “From the top, Seth,” Mac said.

  “I was out front wiping down the four-wheelers when RayAnne showed up on her bike.”

  “Did you know she was there?” he asked Haley.

  She shook her head.

  “I didn’t have a chance to tell her.” Seth’s shoulders rolled forward. “It kind of happened really fast. RayAnne wasn’t crying, but she had been. I could tell. She was really mad at her dad. Then, she dared me to go riding, and I told her we couldn’t, because my dad … you … weren’t home.”

  Well, at least Seth knew the rules and was strong enough to stand by them.

  “She called me chicken. I didn’t care about that, but then she got on my four-wheeler and started it up. I thought she was just messing around. I told her we couldn’t ride until you got home. The next thing I knew she took off.”

  “Did you take my four-wheeler after her?”

  “No. I know the rules. I took her bike and chased after her. I went as fast as I could.” Seth’s mouth pulled into a tight line. “When I finally caught up to her she was over the side … upside down. The engine was screaming, wheels spinning in the air, and there was smoke pouring out of the thing. I couldn’t even see her under the four-wheeler at first. It was hard to hear.”

  Seth fidgeted in his seat. “Then I saw her. I tried to help her out, but she couldn’t move and she was crying. I didn’t know if it would catch on fire.

  Mac placed his hand on his son’s shoulder.

  “I didn’t know what to do. So, I called you.” He looked over at Haley. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be sorry,” Mac said. “Haley’s doing us a favor, and this is the second stunt you’ve pulled on her in a week.”

  Seth’s eyes got big. Mac knew Seth was putting two and two together that not only was his dad wearing a Santa suit, but he was also the Santa he’d spoken to the night he’d snuck out.

  “Seth, I know you were worried about RayAnne, but you have to be smart. I pray she’s okay.”

  “Me too, Dad.” His hands pulled into tight fists. “I don’t even care how much trouble I’m in. She just needs to be okay.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Pounding at the front door woke Sydney. She raced from the couch half-coherent and swung the door open without bothering to look out the window first.

  “Diane? Are you okay?”

  “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” She pushed into the room.

  “Oh that. Long story. I’m sorry, did I scare you? Come on in. What time is it?”

  “You’re coming with me. I needed to get a hold of you. Don’t do that again.”

  “It’s been kind of a bad night. I turned off my phone.”

  “Get your purse.”

  “Why?”

  “Sydney, there’s been an accident. Tony was part of the volunteer squad called out.”

  “Who’s hurt?”

  “It’s RayAnne.”

  Sydney looked behind her to the stairs. “RayAnne is upstairs asleep.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Sydney stood there, confused. This isn’t happening, she thought desperately.

  Diane grabbed Sydney by the hand and ran up the stairs. Sydney raised her hand to knock, but Diane pushed the door open.

  The room was empty. Her bed made up.

  “No.” Sydney covered her mouth with her hand. How long had RayAnne been gone?

  “Come with me.” Diane tugged Sydney by the arm and they ran back downstairs. “Purse?”

  Sydney pointed to the table by the stairs.

  Diane swept the purse into her arms, and then dug in the top and lifted out her phone. “Here. Turn this on.” Sydney pressed the button on the phone and let Diane lead her outside.

  “What happened?”

  “She wrecked on a four-wheeler.” Diane revved the engine and headed for the interstate.

  “Where is she?”

  “The hospital is a hike. It’s going to take us at least half an hour to get there no matter how fast I drive. I’ll see what Tony can find out for us.”

  “How did this happen?”

  “From what I gather she was with Mac’s boy.”

  “I knew that was a mistake.” Sydney’s head was reeling. She kept thinking she might open her eyes and realize this was a bad dream, because it had all those mixed-up components and people in the wrong roles and places like dreams often did.

  Diane’s phone rang and she pressed speaker. “Hey babe. What do we know? I’ve got Sydney right here next to me in the car.”

  “Hey, Sydney. She’s in the emergency room. They’re still assessing the situation.”

  “How serious is it? Do I need to call her dad? She’s going to be okay. Right?”

  “You might want to call him and let him know, but calm down, her vitals were good. I don’t think she’s in any imminent danger.”

  “Thank you, God,” Sydney whispered.

  “She’s got a pretty ba
d head wound,” Tony said. “That’ll require some stitches, and she lost a lot of blood. I’m sure she’ll be in the hospital overnight no matter what.”

  “How could this happen? I was right there in the house. I must have been asleep on the couch when she left. Maybe she should be living with Jon.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Diane said. “Kids are kids. They do stupid stuff. She’s going to be okay. Paramedics got there quick and she’s in good hands. Right, babe?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” Tony’s voice was steady and calm. “We don’t know much at this point, but I’m going to stay right here. I’ll have as much information as possible by the time you get here.”

  “Thank you. Tell her I’m on the way. And I love her.”

  Diane concentrated on the road, taking the curves at high speed. Sydney wished they could drive even faster.

  “Jon blew her off for Christmas,” Sydney said. “RayAnne was so upset. I thought she was in her room asleep. I had no idea she’d left.”

  “This isn’t your fault, Sydney.”

  “I’d gone upstairs to check on her. When she didn’t answer I just thought she was asleep. I didn’t even look in on her. This is my fault. I should’ve checked.”

  Sydney dialed Jon’s number. When it went straight to voice mail she wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t wanted to talk to him, either. “What’s the hospital name, Diane?”

  “West Carolina Regional.”

  “Jon. It’s Sydney. There’s been an accident. I’m headed to West Carolina Regional. It’s RayAnne. I’ll give you a call back as soon as I have all of the details.” She ended the call and dropped her phone in her lap. “How much longer?”

  “We’re almost there.”

  Sydney leaned her forehead against the cool window. She felt sick to her stomach, and her body shook. “RayAnne, please be okay.”

  They came to an intersection and the bright lights of the hospital hung above the fog settling over the parking lot. The eerie shadows looked menacing.

  Diane pulled right up to the emergency room door and let Sydney out. “Go ahead. I’ll park and be right there.”

  Sydney jumped out of the car before it was all the way to a stop and ran inside.

  She ran up to the woman at the desk. “I’m Sydney Ragsdale. My daughter, RayAnne, was brought in by ambulance.”