the window was rattling and shaking. The mean, fierce growling sound was getting louder and louder, closer and closer, until it was right outside the window. In a final strong blast of wind the glass in the window shattered into a hundred pieces. For a brief second the bedroom was filled with a blinding flash of pure white. The hunter closed his eyes. When he opened them a few seconds later everything was quiet. The wind had died down. The swirling flakes of snow and ice had settled, coating everything in a thin layer of pure whiteness. Standing next to the window he saw the crisp outline of a large bear, the body made of pure white snow and ice.
Frostybear brushed aside some pieces of broken glass and took the rifle from the box. He held the barrel in one huge ice cold paw and the wooden handle in the other. Ever so slowly Frostybear tightened his grip on both ends until the barrel became so cold it turned a grayish white. The handle creaked and creaked, the coldness coming from Frostybear’s touch finally splitting the wood in half. Frostybear squeezed the ice cold metal barrel tighter and tighter until the metal broke apart with a loud SNAP. Frostybear tossed what was left of the frozen rifle through the broken window and turned towards the hunter.
The hunter twisted some more, still trying to get loose. The knots were tied way too tight. Somehow he gained enough foolish courage to yell out, “Get away from me, you freaky looking thing. Do you hear me? I said get lost!”
Frostybear just stood there, staring at the hunter, who wouldn’t stop taunting the snowbaby bear. “Be gone, you weird creature! You’re nothing but a disgusting looking snow cone! Get out of my bedroom! Now!!”
This went on and on for a few minutes, the hunter saying stupid and spiteful things to Frostybear, until Frostybear leaned back and let out the loudest, most fierce sounding growl ever. The growl was so loud the entire room shook. The hunter finally stopped ranting and just stared at Frostybear.
Frostybear stood there, hunched over, staring back. Neither one moved or took their eyes away. The hunter knew he had anger and defiance in his eyes, and he hoped the bear made of snow and ice could see it, or at the very least sense it. Maybe the bear would just give up and leave him alone. But the bear’s eyes were so pure white, so icy cold, so unmoving the hunter wondered if the bear understood.
The hunter didn’t want to be the first one to look away, but he found it harder and harder to keep staring into such whiteness. Finally he had enough. He blinked, closed his eyes and sighed. Would this ever end?
“Come on, let me loose already. I know you hear me, so just do it, alright?” the hunter said.
Frostybear continued to stare, unblinking, unmoving.
The hunter couldn’t help it. His anger just built and built until it had to be released. He kept on wriggling, but he felt like the more he struggled the tighter the knots became.
“Let me go, do you hear me? I’m making a new promise. I swear, once I get loose, I’m going to shoot every animal I ever see. I’m not even going to think about it! Boom, boom, every single one is going to be a one shot, instant kill. Do you hear me? LET ME GO!”
With that last outburst by the hunter, Frostybear stepped around to the foot of the bed. The hunter kept on screaming and yelling. Frostybear leaned over, towering over the hunter. It reached out with it’s huge arms and placed both powerful paws directly onto the hunter’s chest, right above the heart. The hunter squirmed and squirmed, yelling the whole time. Frostybear kept it’s paws there for a full two minutes. It then stood back up, let out one final rumbling growl, and hopped out the window.
The hunter breathed in and out quickly for a few minutes. Finally, it was over. He wriggled again and the knots tying down his wrists popped loose. He sat up and untied his ankles. Free! He even managed to smile while he rubbed his sore ankles, thinking about those stupid and silly things made of snow and ice. What was that all about? Okay, sure, his rifle was now gone, but it didn’t matter, he could always steal another. He would even steal a much nicer one, a real powerful rifle with a scope, so he could easily follow through with his promise to shoot every animal he saw. Ha! He would have the last laugh in this whole crazy adventure.
The hunter looked around his bedroom. What was a snow covered floor a few minutes ago was now clean. There were just a few small puddles here and there. It was almost like what just happened didn’t happen. He couldn’t help but smile again, thinking of how the first animal he saw would be a one shot, instant kill. Now that was a promise he planned on keeping for the rest of his life. A very happy burst of energy flowed through him as he thought about what he would do later this night, when he planned on robbing the gun store again. He couldn’t wait. He jumped off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. Two steps later he collapsed onto the floor with a loud thud.
The hunter tried to yell out. He found he could barely move his lips. Using every bit of his strength he only managed a weak whisper. He then tried to stand up, but he was only able to get up a few inches before he slumped back down. His whole body was so incredibly weak feeling. Strange, he thought, he didn’t feel weaker, he was wide awake and not sleepy or groggy or anything, so why couldn’t he talk, why couldn’t he move? Only seconds ago he felt perfectly fine.
Immediately the hunter used every ounce of his strength and opened his jacket and shirt. He touched his chest and couldn’t believe what his hands found. His chest was cold. A coldness as chilly as the deepest frozen lake. The cold was coming from where his heart was. He pressed a hand harder against his chest and through the stinging icy chill he could feel his heart beating like normal. At least that was okay. But what was happening?
He dared to look down and if he had the strength he would have yelled so loud they would have heard him from miles away. On his chest was a heart shaped mark of pure white. Some of the veins spreading out were also the same ice cold pure white color. He opened his mouth as wide as he could, desperately trying to scream, but without any strength nothing came out. He tried so hard to move and to speak that within a few minutes he was so worn out he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Finally: A Frozen Soul
Several days later the hunter opened his eyes. It took a few minutes for his head to clear and his eyes to focus. He found himself in his bedroom, sitting in a chair, wrapped in several thick blankets. His mother was off to the side, watching him.
“Mother? What happened?” the hunter asked.
“Oh son, you’re finally awake. I was so worried. How do you feel?”
“I feel fine. So are you going to tell me what happened”
“Of course, dear. A few days ago I found you asleep on your bedroom floor. Don’t you remember? I tried to wake you, but you were so groggy and dazed I left you there. You couldn’t move, or you didn’t want to move, so I came back the next day, and you were still there. I was so afraid! I had an ambulance take you to the hospital. They ran all kinds of tests and couldn’t find a single thing wrong with you. Perfectly healthy, they said, except all your strength was gone. Many times over the last couple of days you woke up for a few minutes and tried to speak, and to walk, but dear, you just couldn’t. The doctors say you’re so weak––”
The hunter interrupted. “You’re all fools, do you know that? Especially you, my own mother, how can you be so stupid? I feel great. Obviously I have enough strength to talk now, don’t I? Why am I all wrapped up and in this chair? I’m leaving, I’ve got things to take care of. I made a promise to myself. No matter what, I’m going to honor that promise.”
Once those bitter words were spoken the hunter tried to lift himself up. He tried several times, his entire body trembling with effort as he pushed against the chair arms. It took an agonizing few minutes but he managed to stand. He wobbled, took a step, then wobbled again. He couldn’t keep his balance on such weak legs and he crashed down to the floor. He tried to speak but his strength was gone. Totally gone. Not an ounce of energy left.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you, dear. Oh, my son, my dear son, the doctors said you are so weak due to a semi-frozen he
art. Your cold, cold heart that can never be thawed. You won’t be able to do anything except a little talking, but that’s all. You won’t ever have the energy to walk, or even to lift your arms. You’ll have to spend the rest of your life wrapped up in blankets and in a wheelchair.”
Snowbabies Page 7