How do you know she’s a she?
Well, I don’t until we put the clothes on her.
But you keep calling her her.
Because she’s fat.
How do you make a thin snowman?
They tried. They rolled a pole of snow and stood it up and when they put the head on the pole it fell down.
Nicky wasn’t impressed. She pulled a face. She said –
We can make her a bit more pyramidy – give her a neck or something. A fat neck is not a good look.
Jerry didn’t want to make a pyramid snowman.
She said, Snow people are all fat – it’s like what they have to be to keep them warm.
Nicky thought this was stupid – If they warm up they melt.
Warm on the inside, stupid! Come on, Nicky, help me roll her head.
Nicky’s mum came out with two mugs of hot chocolate.
Hey! He’s great!
He’s a she. Have we got any clothes for her?
Sure! Go and see what’s in the charity box.
Nicky ran inside, leaving her chocolate to steam.
Nicky’s mum was attractive. She was slim with hair coloured three kinds of blonde. She smiled at Jerry. She had good teeth.
How’s your mum, Jerry; is she OK?
Jerry nodded. Her mum had to work hard and she had to work nights at a hotel. Sometimes she drank too much and passed out. Jerry’s dad had left them last year, just before Christmas, and he hadn’t come back.
Nicky’s mum shifted her weight, which wasn’t a lot, from foot to foot.
Why don’t you sleep over tonight? Nicky would love that.
I’ll ask, said Jerry.
You can call, said Nicky’s mum, but Jerry couldn’t call because her mum’s phone had been cut off. But she didn’t want to say that; instead she said, I’ll run over later and ask.
Nicky came back out with an armful of clothes. They tried a sweater, a hoodie, a dress with buttons, but nothing fitted.
This is like Cinderella, said Jerry.
You mean she’s the ugly sister? said Nicky.
She’s the princess in disguise. Here – try this.
The bobble hat fitted.
She can go to the ball!
In a bobble hat?
Yeah.
Well, she can’t, because she’s got no legs. How about eyes? She needs eyes. But not buttons.
No, not buttons – give me your bracelet – those green stones – they can be her eyes. Come on!
What are you doing? That’s my bracelet!
But Jerry wasn’t listening – she broke the bracelet and fixed the SnowWoman with great green, staring eyes.
She looks real now! said Nicky.
She needs a snose, said Jerry, or maybe a snowt.
Jerry forgot about Nicky. She made the SnowWoman a nose out of a pine cone and a mouth that was a big red smile. It was really the dog’s throw-hoop cut in half but it looked like a big red smile.
By now Nicky was playing a game on her iPad. The afternoons were short and the day was cold. Soon it would be dark. Nicky’s mum called out from the kitchen door – Jerry! Go and see your mother now if you’re coming back later!
Jerry ran off, promising the SnowWoman she would come right back. But when Jerry got home, her mother wasn’t there. The house was dark. Sometimes the electricity got cut off, but when that happened Jerry couldn’t get in with the entry phone – she had to climb over the wall at the back and find the key behind the dustbins. That was what she did – but the key wasn’t there, and the house was as dark at the back as it was at the front.
You lookin’ for your ma? asked Mr Store, who ran the store that was called Store’s Stores.
Jerry nodded. She didn’t say anything. Mr Store said, Your ma’s not here – went out, didn’t come back; what’s new?
Mr Store was horrible. He had a horrible face and a horrible stare and a horrible pair of brown overalls that he always wore. Sometimes Jerry’s mum asked him for milk or bread and to pay the next day. He always said no. Now he stuffed his horrible hands in the brown pockets of his horrible overalls and went inside.
Jerry decided to wait a while and squeezed herself onto the front step, where she was out of the cold a little.
She thought about the SnowWoman – she was at least eight feet tall, bigger than anyone. When Jerry grew up she hoped she’d be eight feet tall. Then she’d show them.
She’d show them who she was.
Night fell. Why do we say that? Like night didn’t mean to be here but tripped up crossing the moon. The moon was bright. Everyone was coming home now, the day done, the night cold. The windows along the street lit up one by one. Jerry stood up to warm her limbs and walked up and down the street looking in through the windows where she could. People sitting down to eat. People watching TV. People moving from room to room, saying something – she couldn’t hear what, their mouths opening and shutting like goldfish.
There was a bird in a cage and an Alsatian lying across the front door, willing it to open.
All the houses had lights on now, except hers.
Maybe her mother thought she was staying at Nicky’s. Maybe she should go back there now.
Jerry set off on the half-hour walk back to Nicky’s house. It seemed later than it was – the quiet streets, no one driving. A black cat paced the length of a white wall.
There was Nicky’s house now – and the lights were on. Jerry broke into a run to reach the gate, but as she reached it all the lights went out, just like that, and the house was as dark as hers.
What time was it? The station wagon was on the drive. Jerry rubbed snow from the window and peeped in at the clock. 11.30? It couldn’t be 11.30 at night.
Jerry was suddenly scared and tired and not knowing. Not knowing the time, not knowing what to do. Maybe she could sleep in the shed. Jerry turned from the dark house to the garden, strangely light and white and semi-shining because of the snow.
The SnowMama was looking at her with two bright green jewel eyes.
I wish you were alive, said Jerry.
A live what? said the SnowMama. A live cat? A live circus?
Did you just speak? said Jerry doubtfully.
I did, said the SnowMama.
Your mouth didn’t move . . .
That’s the way you fixed it, said the SnowMama. But you can hear me, can’t you?
Yes, said Jerry. I can hear you. Are you really alive?
Watch this! said the SnowMama, and skipped a bit sideways. Not bad for no legs. That’s the way you fixed it too.
I’m sorry, said Jerry, I didn’t know how to do legs.
Don’t beat yourself up about things you can’t change. You did your best. Anyway, I can glide. Come on! Let’s go for a glide!
The SnowMama set off surprisingly fast for an object without legs, wheels or an engine. Jerry ran to catch up.
I’d say hold my hand, said the SnowMama, except that you didn’t fix me any hands . . .
Wait! said Jerry. Would you like two medium-sized garden forks?
That would be gracious, said the SnowMama.
So Jerry fetched the garden forks (medium-sized) from the shed and shoved them firmly into the sides of the SnowMama. The SnowMama wriggled her shoulders a bit to get the fit right, then, concentrating hard, she was able to flex the tines of the forks.
Hey! Hey! Hey!
How d’ya do that? asked Jerry.
It’s a mystery, said the SnowMama. Do you know how you do things? Does anyone? I just did it. So let’s go.
Where are we going?
To find the others!
Jerry and the SnowMama left the garden and set off down the road. The SnowMama was much faster than Jerry, who kept falling down.
Fish in the sea, that’s me, said the
SnowMama. I’m in my element. Climb aboard! Just jump up and rest your feet in my tines.
Soon the two of them were speeding down the street. Jerry held her feet in the cupped tines like they were stirrups and she held on to either end of the SnowMama’s scarf like they were reins. On they went, past the school and the post office, or they were nearly past the post office when a little voice called out, WAIT FOR ME.
The SnowMama slid in a skid to a halt.
She said, WHO GOES THERE?
On the top of the mail box some kids had perched a Little SnowMan with a paper hat on his head. THIS IS SO BORING, said the Little SnowMan – TAKE ME WITH YOU!
Why are you speaking in Capital Letters? said the SnowMama. Don’t you know it’s Bad Manners to speak in Capital Letters?
I have no family, said the Little SnowMan, and I never went to school. Forgive me.
Well, come on, said the SnowMama, just hold on to my front, as the back is occupied, and let’s see what we can see.
PLEASED TO MEET YOU, MISS! yelled the Little SnowMan to Jerry, then he remembered that was not Polite, and whispered as quietly as he could – PLEASED TO MEET YOU, MISS!
On they went, past the garage and the factory and through the still, silent night under the rock-diamond sky.
They came to the city park.
All day long the children had built SnowMen and now all the children had gone home and the SnowMen were still there.
They looked eerie in their brilliant white coats lit up by the brilliant white moon.
Then Jerry saw that some of the SnowMen were moving slowly towards the lake – where two of them were fishing.
A child must have built these fishing SnowMen, each with a rod and line made from a peeled stick and a length of twine.
As Jerry, the SnowMama and the Little SnowMan came near the lake one of the SnowFishers turned and raised his pork-pie hat in salute.
Welcome! This lake is full of SnowFish! The SnowGirls are lighting a fire and we hope you will join us for a barbecue. Perfect weather!
Right then his line bent and quivered and for a minute he steered something invisible and strong back and forth under the water, then with a deft flick of the line a SnowFish flew above the surface of the lake. It was more than a foot long and its scales were made of snowflakes.
You only get them at this time of year, explained the SnowFisher. Too early and they are frozen solid, too late and they melt like they were never there.
I’ve never seen a SnowFish, said Jerry.
That’s to be expected, said the SnowFisher. Most of us can only see the world we know.
OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY! yelled the Little SnowMan. He was so excited he stood upside down on his head and it came out backwards: HO YOB HO YOB HO YOB HO YOB.
HO YOB!
Can he pipe down? said the SnowFisher. He’ll scare away the SnowFish.
The SnowMama grabbed the Little SnowMan by his feet and took him over to where a group of SnowSisters were piling together a wigwam of white frosted branches. They all wore earrings made out of red berries.
Y’all staying for the barbecue? said one, taller than the rest. She’s human, right?
Yes, said the SnowMama; her name’s Jerry.
What about ME? shouted the Little SnowMan. Don’t forget ME!
Can I leave him with you? said the SnowMama. He needs some discipline. He can fetch branches for the fire.
Sure! Come on, you little Sno’ Snothin’, get to work. We’ll teach him a thing or two.
I’m an orphan! yelled the Little SnowMan. I got Special Needs.
You surely shall have Special Needs when the sun shows up and melts you down, said a SnowSister. Now come on! Move it!
Let’s you and me take a tour, said the SnowMama to Jerry. This is all new to you, I can see.
Isn’t it new to you? asked Jerry. I mean, I only made you this morning.
That’s part of the mystery of history, said the SnowMama. I was not. I am. I will not be. I will be.
That was too deep for Jerry and so was the snow. As she ran after the gliding SnowMama she fell into a deep drift up to her chin.
SNOLLIE! Lend me a line, will you? The SnowMama was signalling to one of the SnowFishers. He came over, dropped his line and pulled Jerry out like she were a carp under the ice.
Thanks, Snollie, said the SnowMama. This is a good year for us, isn’t it?
It certainly is, Mama, said Snollie. If the weather holds we should be here a week before we have to move on.
Move on? said Jerry.
Like I said, the mystery of our history. Let me tell you how we happen.
The SnowMama sat down next to a snowy figure on a snowy bench and invited Jerry to sit between them. She folded her tine hands across her white lap and began . . .
Every year the snow falls and children build snowmen. They give us mittens and hats and ties and scarves and beautiful eyes, like the ones you gave me made out of green glass.
Grown-ups think that SnowPeople are just snow, but children sknow better than that. They whisper to us and tell us their secrets. They sit down on the ground and pull up their knees and lean their backs against us when they are sad. They love us, and so we come alive.
Look around the park. You see how many SnowPeople there are? Every year we meet again, because once we come alive, we live forever. You see us melt, and we do, but that’s us moving on, to the next place where it snows. And when the children roll the snow, there we are again.
Jerry thought about this . . . But if you melt . . .
The SnowMama held up her hand in pause . . .
You can’t melt our Snowls. Every SnowPerson has a Snowl, and the Snowl goes on through time and space and frost and ice and you’ll find us with the polar bears and the elks and the reindeer. You’ll find us waiting in white clouds to begin again. When the snow falls, we’re not far behind.
Jerry looked at the SnowPerson sitting motionless on the bench beside her. What about this one? Why isn’t he saying anything?
The SnowMama shook her head. He will never say anything. He’s not a SnowMan, he’s just snow. A grown-up made him, didn’t believe in him, and didn’t love him. So he didn’t live.
Jerry said, My friend Nicky didn’t love you. She thought you were too fat.
I am just right, said the SnowMama, and you loved me, and so I was waiting for you in the garden.
What if I hadn’t come back? said Jerry.
I knew you would, said the SnowMama. Love always comes back.
A SnowCat prowled past wearing a jewelled collar. Ain’t that the truth? said the SnowCat. High five for Lucky Love. And he held up his paw.
They’ve lit the fire! said Jerry. I can see it! But the flames aren’t orange or red; they’re white!
Cold fire, said the SnowMama. That’s no ordinary fire. Come on! Let’s go and join in.
The fire was burning high, every flare and shoot of flame like a burst of snowflakes flying upwards, but strangely the white frosted branches didn’t seem to be consumed. The cold fire burned through them in shimmering transparent blasts.
The SnowPeople were standing or sitting around the campfire colding their hands and feet.
Come and get colder! said the SnowMama.
I’m too cold already, said Jerry, who was shivering.
Well, look who’s here, said one of the SnowSisters.
MAKE WAY, MAKE WAY!
It was the Little SnowMan, carrying one end of a pole hung with SnowFish from the lake. The fish looked like they were made of crystal with pearly eyes.
Snollie was carrying the other end of the pole; he was trying to direct the Little SnowMan . . . Now we suspend the pole over the fire, like . . .
But the Little SnowMan was so excited that he walked right into the fire and right out the other side.
WOW, said Jerry, he just got bigger!
The Little SnowMan had indeed got bigger – a lot bigger.
That’s what happens in cold fire, explained the SnowMama. In regular fire, things burn up so they get smaller, and then they disappear. Cold fire makes everything it touches bigger – look at the fish!
The fish were cooking, sizzling inside their snowflake scales – but now they were all twice the size.
Grab yourselves a fish, folks, said the SnowFisher.
Eat up while they’re cold.
Can I have three? yelled the BIG (aka Little) SNOWMAN.
That stupid SnowBody got slush for brains – we’ll get him back to size . . . Hey, dude, swallow this!
One of the SnowSisters threw what looked like a pine cone at the rapidly growing, now enormous SnowMan.
THANKS! THANKS! THANKS! said the BLS, his snowy head already in the branches of the trees.
Will he be OK? asked Jerry.
Sure he will, replied the SnowMama. Worst comes to worst, he’ll melt.
Will you melt? said Jerry.
Yes, I will.
I don’t want you to melt.
You know what I’m thinkin’? said the SnowMama. I’m thinkin’ we should get you home – don’t want you like Kay in The Snow Queen – with blue hands and feet and ice in your heart.
But she was bad, said Jerry, the Snow Queen.
Yes, she was bad, but even being good has unintended consequences. You’re only human, after all.
So the SnowMama picked up Jerry and they left the SnowPeople singing winter songs round the campfire: ‘Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow’, ‘Winter Wonderland’, ‘Snobody Loves You Like I Love You’, ‘Ain’t Snow Stoppin’ Us Now’.
At the edge of the city park, the sound of singing died away and all Jerry could hear was the wind blowing in the trees and the glide of the SnowMama across the tracks. She was singing quietly to herself in a low, beautiful voice.
What’s that song? said Jerry.
Shakespeare – ‘Fear no more the heat o’ the sun.’ It’s a song of mourning. We sing it when we melt.
Do you know about Shakespeare?
It’s a mystery, said the SnowMama.
Soon they were on Jerry’s street and outside Jerry’s home. The lights were still out.
Christmas Days Page 4