Christmas Delights 3 (24 page)

It’s true. He obviously knew I would say yes and to be
honest, even though I was asking questions about family and friends, I knew I
would say yes too. How I could not? The man needed help, plus it was Christmas
after all. The season of good will to all men.

“You will definitely be on Father Christmas’s nice list this
year.” Andy continued to beam.

“And why wouldn’t I on any other year?” I questioned.

He just winked at me as he got up and walked to the door.

“By the way, does my new friend have name?” I asked making
my way around the table.

Andy stopped at the door. His whole body filled the space
from frame to frame.

“Jack. Jack Frost,” he said.

“Jack Frost? Are you shitting me? I pull a guy out of a
freezing, icy river, and his name is Jack bloody Frost.”

“You couldn’t make it up if you tried,” Andy said with
another grin.

I stood in front of the door to Jack's room. I could see him
through the window in the door. He was sitting up in bed and had his head
turned towards the window. The curtains had been pushed open, and he seemed to
be staring out into the darkness of the night sky.

I looked to Andy, who was down the corridor on his mobile
phone. The station had called as we were leaving the waiting room, and I could
tell something was up when his normally friendly tone had changed to a serious
one.

He gestured for me to go into Jack’s room, mouthing that he
would be right there. I nodded and then pushed open the door and walked in,
closing the door behind me.

Jack didn’t turn or even acknowledge my entrance. He just
continued to stare out into the night, and all of a sudden, I felt like I was
intruding. Had I even knocked before I entered? Did Jack know what was
happening or, like me, was it going to be sprung on him? Unsure of what else to
do, I cleared my throat. That’s what people do to get other people’s attention,
right?

Getting no response, I turned and looked out the door to see
if Andy was on his way. Instead, it seemed he'd walked farther down the
corridor. His phone still stuck to his ear. Typical.

I debated what to do next when out of nowhere Jack's voice
broke the fragile silence, making me jump out of my skin.

“Are you the one that pulled me out of the water?” Jack's
voice was cold and devoid of all emotion.

Spinning on the spot, I turned to face Jack who was staring
right at me.

“Bloody hell, you scared the crap out of me.” I brought my
hand up to my chest. My heart was racing ten to the dozen.

Jack simply gazed at me, and once I realised he wasn’t going
to offer any more to the conversation, I took a step forward. The way he looked
at me didn’t help the uneasy feeling that grew inside me. I felt like I was
being judged for something. Pushing the uncomfortable feeling aside, I stopped
at the foot of the bed and rested my hands on the foot rail.

“Yes, I am,” I said quietly. “My name is Mark Cooper.”

He kept his eyes on me, his stern, steely expression not
wavering, and then, without a reply, he turned his head away from me and gazed
back out into the blackness of the outside world.

This wasn’t going quite as I thought it would have. I
couldn’t help but feel I had done something to offend him. Though I couldn’t
see how. The only contact I'd with him was when I'd rescued him this morning.
How was I supposed to open my home to him if he was acting like this?

I was at a loss as what to do next. I wasn’t getting very
far with him in way of conversation and his attitude towards me seemed as warm
as the river I had pulled him out of. I had to remind myself I knew nothing
about him or of his past and, considering what he had been through today, I
decided to let the dismissive looks and cold manner slide.

“Hey,” I tried again, adding as much softness to my voice as
I could, “I know this is a little…unusual, and having to stay with a complete
stranger after all you've been through—"

“I told them I could look after myself,” Jack jumped in,
still with his head turned. His voice was laced with anger and frustration.

“I don’t think anybody is doubting that. It’s just…Have you
anywhere you can do that?” I asked.

He let out a shallow breath but didn’t add anything else.

“Listen, it’s just for a little while, until you get
yourself back on your feet.”

Honestly, I hadn’t a clue how long it would be for. Andy had
said it would just be over Christmas, but there was no guarantee there would be
any help for Jack. Like everything else, it all depended on circumstances, and
seeing as he wasn’t sharing, no one but Jack knew what his circumstances really
were at the moment. Jack's eyes said so much for someone saying so little. It
was like the man was desperately searching for something, almost begging the
night sky to give him answers to questions only Jack knew. It was almost too
painful for me to see.

“Are you ready to go?” I eventually asked.

“Do I have a choice?” he replied, his voice as cold as the
Icy water I had pulled him out of this morning.

“Yes, yes you do,” I said weakly. “I just want to help.”

“Why?” he asked, finally meeting my eyes with his.

I was taken aback by his question, and I found myself lost
for words. Slowly I shook my head. “Because I can. Because I want to.”

For the first time since walking into his room, for a
second, just a split second, I thought I saw something behind his eyes.
Something other than anger and pain. Something other than steel and stone, and
it warmed my heart.

Chapter 4

I pulled up outside my flat and turned off the engine. The
snow had been stopping and starting all day, and as we left the hospital it had
begun to fall again. Jack had barely spoken a word during the short journey. If
anything, he had seemed to withdraw further into himself, and like in his
hospital room, he continued to search the night sky. Seeing the way in which he
concentrated intently, but at the same time looked so lost, made my heart ache,
and I began to think maybe it wasn’t the darkness of the night that held his
attention. Maybe the darkness he looked into was a little closer to home.

“I live in this one here,” I said, pointing out the window.

Without acknowledging my words, Jack opened the car door,
stepped out amongst the falling snow flakes, and fixed his gaze on the park.

I climbed out of the car and stood on the pavement. Looking
up to the sky, I exhaled tiredly. It had been a long day, and both my body and
mind were on the verge of collapse. Closing my eyes, I let the tiny ice crystals
of the snowflakes fall and rest on my skin. I could feel the cool, calming
effect of their touch melting into me and spreading through my body. For the
first time that day, I let myself relax.

Opening my eyes, I was met by Jack's gaze. I felt my body
tense, and not because I had been caught staring at the sky and catching
snowflakes, but because of the way he looked at me. It was the same lost look
he had had at the hospital, still searching for something.

A chill went down my spine as his eyes seemed to look right
inside me. What was he looking for? I was about to ask if he was okay when
something happened. I can’t explain what, exactly, but in a blink, Jack's eyes
changed and they held once again the same cold, icy glare he had when we first
met. Maybe I had imagined it. Maybe it was exhaustion and stress making me see
things. Who knows?

Jack opened the back passenger door and leaned in to grab
the bag the hospital had given him to put his possessions in. He then shut the
door with a little more force than was needed, walked straight past me, and
headed towards the front door to the flat.

I turned to follow behind him, but a hooting sound stopped
me in my tracks. I turned back and looked up into the trees that stood at the
entrance to the park. There perched on a branch of an oak was an owl, but not
just any owl. With its burnt orange feathers and white streaks it was
undoubtedly the same owl from this morning. The owl held its head in the same
turned position, eyeing me from its vantage point, the same way it had when it
had watched over the drama that had happened earlier today. Then, as it did
this morning, it gave a small bob of its head and took off into the sky.

I stood in the kitchen and watched as Jack took in his new
home. It wasn’t the largest of places, but it was comfortable and suited me
just fine. The main bulk of the flat was the combined kitchen/living/dining
area. The kitchen was sectioned off by a standing height breakfast bar from the
living area, which comprised a three-seater sofa and an arm chair set in a
semi-circular fashion around a wood burner and TV. The dining area was little
more than a table pushed up against the far wall of the flat that could fold
out and seat up to six people if required, which it rarely did. To be honest, I
never really used the table for anything more than a dumping ground for my work
stuff. Instead, I'd either eat on a tray sitting on the sofa or up at the bar
in the kitchen.    

“Can I get you anything?” I asked after a minute or two. “A
drink? Something to eat?”

“You can just show me where I'll be staying.” Jack's voice
was laced with annoyance.

“Listen, Jack,” I said as calmly as possible. By this point
I was getting a little tired of the attitude. I knew he'd been through a lot,
but there was no need to take it out on me. “You aren't a prisoner here. It’s
not like you're confined to quarters and under strict instructions to do as I
say. You are free to do as you will. All I ask for is a little respect.”

“Respect,” Jack spat, turning to face me. “You want respect?
You didn’t respect me.”

For the second time in so many hours I was lost for words.
What was he talking about? How had I disrespected him? We'd only been in each
other's company for a couple of hours and for one of those he had been unconscious.

I replayed the few words that we had exchanged so far,
trying to figure out what I might have done. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t
come up with anything. The anger and resentment towards me had been there from
the very beginning. It was hard to miss. But I had no idea where it came from.

Finally I managed to regain my train of thought. “I don’t
understand? How have I disrespected you? I pulled you out of that river,” I
stated. “I am giving you a place to stay. I don’t understand what I've done
wrong.”

“You pulled me out of the river,” he said bluntly.

I shook my head still not quite understanding what he was
saying. "Yes. Yes, I did,” I said, trying to connect the dots.

“Well, maybe I didn’t want to be pulled out of the river.
Maybe I was in there for a reason.” His words started to break as emotion
seemed to overwhelm him, and his knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip
around the handle of the bag he was holding. “Maybe,” he choked. His eyes began
to fill up with tears. “Maybe I didn’t want to be saved.”

In that moment, I honestly thought that time had stopped. My
mind froze, and for second I wasn’t even sure I was still breathing. How the
hell had I missed this? More important, how the hell had the doctors missed
this? My brain suddenly kicked into overdrive and I was flooded with feelings.
First was utter anger that Jack had been badly let down. People should have
picked up on his mental state, and I should have said something about his
behaviour before taking him home. Then sadness hit, and all I could think of
was, what could have driven him to wade into freezing cold water in the dead of
night when most people were at home, safely curled up warm in beds? What had
made him want to let his body slowly freeze and his life drift away? And then pure
fear consumed every part of me. What the hell was I going to do? I had no
experience of dealing with anything like this. What happened if he tried again?
What was I supposed to do then?

Slowly things started to move again. I was aware of the flat
and my surroundings, of the familiar sounds from within my home, of the quiet
noise of the outside world, and of Jack breathing heavily as he was standing
very still in front of me.

“I…I don’t know what to say to that.” My words came out as a
whisper. It was the truth. I hadn’t a clue what to say to his confession. What
do you say to something like that? Oh don’t worry everything will be fine. You
just wait and see. I didn’t know if it was going to be fine. Hell, I didn’t
even know if he wanted it to be okay. All I knew is I now had a man in my flat
who may or may not want to try and kill himself. The sheer the thought of what
might happen sent panic coursing through me.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jack finally said,
swallowing hard. “Can you just show me to my room?”

I nodded and made my way around the breakfast bar and led
him to his room. I stood in the doorway as he walked in and sat on the edge of
the bed. “There are towels and blankets in the cupboard,” I said, pointing to
the door on the right-hand side of the room. “Help yourself to whatever you
need.” Jack didn’t respond, just kept his head down and his gaze on the floor.

“We can sort out clothes tomorrow. You look about the same
size as me so you can borrow some of my stuff if you want, or at least until we
sort you out with some stuff of your own.” Again I got no response. “Okay,” I
said softly. “I’ll just be out here if you need anything.”

I started to close the door behind me when I heard Jack's
voice. It sounded so small. “Thank you,” he said.

I turned back and looked through the gap in the door. Jack
was still sitting on the bed with his head bowed towards the floor. “No
worries,” I replied, closing the door.

Exhausted, I leaned back against the wall next to Jack’s
bedroom door, a million things running through my mind. Should I call in sick
at work so I could watch over him? Should I call the hospital? Should I hide
all the sharp objects in the flat? I slid down the wall and rested on my heels.
Okay, okay, I said to myself, one thing at a time. I pushed myself up and
walked over to the kitchen and pulled my phone out of my bag.