Kris (23 page)

I leapt to the ground, shouldered a heavy bag of toys, and set off into the snow.

Sarah and Gabriella had prepared a number of small, fresh cakes to sustain me on my journey, and in my excitement I pulled one from my pocket and savored its rich flavor.

I selected a red bundle from my bag of toys and placed it proudly on the windowsill of the first cottage I encountered then rewarded myself with another bite of cake as I danced away to other cottages along the path.

I quietly moved to each new dwelling and placed my presents on windowsill after windowsill until each was endowed with a special gift intended especially for the occupants of that home, whose names I reviewed in my journal.

When I completed my deliveries in this village, my bag of toys was lightened, and I returned to the sleigh to begin my journey to the next small hamlet on my list. I stopped momentarily to sample more cakes, as I knew I must maintain my strength for the long night ahead.

Along the way, I spied a single stone house nearly hidden by a thick growth of trees. It was immersed in dark shadows and looked anything but inviting.

I stopped my team and reached into the bag of toys resting behind me, where I located a brightly colored nutcracker painted in reds, yellows, and greens.

“What do you think, Sebastian, is this the one?” I asked him, seeking an honest answer that was promptly delivered.

Sebastian snorted at the gift.

I decided he was merely envious of my cake. And so as I walked past him, I turned briefly and whispered in his ear, “Don't tell the others.” And I reached into my bag of treats as he nuzzled me only to find in my zeal that I had eaten them all. So I took my hat off to feed him
some of the hay Pel had packed within, and he shoved his entire muzzle completely inside, nearly eating the fabric with it.

“That's supposed to keep my head warm.” I cheerfully admonished. And when I put my hat back on my head, it flopped to the side, resting on my shoulder like some old stocking. At least I no longer pointed to the sky.

Facing the large house, I could see a pair of snarling stone bears that flanked its entryway as if to scare away intruders.

“Looks like somebody here could use a toy,” I said over my shoulder to Sebastian.

The house had a shingled roof and high windows without sills which left me absent a place to leave the toy where it was at least somewhat protected. I walked partway around its perimeter, flipping the nutcracker in my hand as I studied how I might attempt my delivery. Then I got an idea. The size and location of the chimney indicated it housed one of the large central fireplaces that heated the entire home, normally open to a great room that surrounded it. The hearth itself should span 6 to 8 feet on either side, more than enough room to drop a toy down without landing in the fire. The owners probably used the warm stone hearth to dry clothing and such.

I returned to the sleigh and grabbed a coil of rope that I slung over my shoulder. Sebastian watched me with interest. He tossed his head with a loud whinny, releasing giant clouds of his steamy breath, and then grunted as if in disapproval.

“Yes, that's why you're the horse and I'm the driver,” I answered in response to his comment.

I found a large crack along one corner of the house and places I could work my boots in between the stones in a long, hard climb to the roof.
With the greatest of effort, I finally made it to the top. I rolled over onto my back and lay on the roof, gasping for air after my strenuous climb. The length of the walls made the roof abnormally high, and I lay there asking myself what I was thinking. When I had rested sufficiently to regain my nerve, I took the rope coil from around my shoulder and scrambled over the ice-covered roof to the chimney.

I looked inside the flue of the chimney to locate the position of the fire below, and I tied a slip knot around the toy soldier's ankles and lowered him slowly into the chimney until he was dangling a safe distance away from the embers of the low-burning fire in the hearth. When I could see he was well positioned, I gave a little tug of the rope, and the toy soldier dropped and rolled just beyond the fireplace and onto the stone floor. I was thrilled with the success of my maneuver and congratulated myself as I began to work my way down the roof. “Ho, ho, ho,” I laughed until my foot hit a patch of ice and slid out from under me. I fell, sliding down the sloped roof, struggling to grab onto anything only to fill my hands with powdered snow. Unable to stop my descent, I shot out over the edge of the roof with my legs kicking through the air wildly. “Wh-whoah!” I shouted uncontrollably as I plummeted to the ground and landed flat on my back in a giant mound of snow with a loud WHOMP. Moments later, my bag of toys hit the snow beside me.

Sebastian and the other horses looked over to see what had caused the commotion, and he snorted and blew steam from his nostrils as if anxious that I might be caught.

I could hear the barking of a large dog inside the house, and additional candlelight began to glow though the windows of the upper story. I gathered my wits about me, collected my toys, and quickly limped back to the sleigh with an Ooooo, Aggghhh, Owwww.

Sebastian whinnied in response as he pulled the sleigh forward.

“Quiet,” I said to him flatly. “Or next time, you go up on the roof with me.”

On we went to village after village and town after town as we covered vast distances to deliver our gifts. Once again I experienced the strange stretching of time that came with every delivery, where I couldn't tell if I had been traveling for days or hours.

Sebastian and the team moved with great speed, despite our long journey, and soon I directed them to the old church where I had long ago left my darling sister.

I pulled them to a halt beyond the sanctuary and jumped down from the sleigh to venture inside. The table where I had set Kendra to rest was still in place. And on it was the same wicker mat and stone nativity display from my very first visit, the one wise man still chipped from my momentary burst of anguish and bitterness.

From my pocket I pulled a figurine that I had delicately carved from stone. It was what I imagined the Sami Noiadi wise man who traveled across the world to welcome a small child might have looked like. When I placed him in the manger scene, I realized that if my hat still pointed to the sky, he might look a little like me.

I knelt down at eye level with the table and explored the tableau of figurines, from the beasts that lay in and around the manger to the bent and tired couple surrounded by shepherds and the wise men who knelt or stood before the child, offering their gifts of precious metal, oil, and incense.

“Merry Christmas, little one,” I said, to the small child whose birth was to be a beacon of hope to the world.

Then an old remembered voice rang out behind me in rich, warm resonant tones.

“How are the miracles?”

“I've decided to believe,” I confided to the holy man.

“Oh, why is that?” he asked, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Because it is a much better world with them in it,” was my simple reply.

“Yes. Yes, it is,” the holy man said. Then he placed a steaming cup of tea and plate of cookies on the table beside me as if he still had them from our first meeting and had simply waited for my return.

Standing with effort, I realized that Pel was right. I was getting wider. And I had already eaten the whole batch of cakes made by Sarah.

“Oh, no. No, I really shouldn't,” I said softly as I rubbed my ample belly.

The holy man looked at me with his cataract eyes and patted me on the cheek with a laugh.

“Never turn down a cookie,” he said with a smile as he turned to leave.

I selected one of the fattest cookies and took a generous bite. When I looked to say good-bye, he was already gone, though the room seemed filled with his presence.

Sebastian and his companions had waited for me patiently, and when I returned to the sleigh, I rubbed their necks as I walked by and thanked them for the incredible job they had done.

With the light of our oil lantern hanging in front of the sleigh like a guiding star, we set off for the last of the night's deliveries near the mountain spine that divided our Norwegian lands from the lands beyond.

Silent snowflakes drifted down around us as we finished our monumental task, leaving us feeling triumphant and invincible. We surged along a snowy trail surrounded by imposing mountains that beckoned to us and stopped at the fork in the road that lead up to the mountain home of my early youth.

I had toys still remaining in my bag.

“These gifts would make some children very happy,” I said to Sebastian and the team. I looked up at my familiar mountains silhouetted against the starry sky, and one of the horses snorted.

“What do you say, fellas?” I asked.

Another horse shook its backside and sent out a spray of snow from its haunches.

I fumbled absentmindedly in my pockets, now replenished by the cookies from the church. I stuffed a small one into my mouth as I examined the fork in the trail that would take us higher into the mountains.

“YAH!” I shouted with my mouth still half full. With a slap of the reins we shot up the mountain path.

I had forgotten the abrupt weather changes of the passes up into the mountains, and our passage became more challenging as we proceeded. Waves of wind-driven sleet pummeled the sleigh with loud THWACKS as our pace began to slow.

The horses' hooves slipped from time to time due to the ice that appeared in growing patches, and it became increasingly difficult to keep the horses on the narrow trail along the side of the mountain.

I stood in the coach to chance a better look as we moved forward, and saw the trail cut away with a sharp edge and a steep drop-off to the boulders littering the valley below.

Pulling on the reins, I steered the horses to the left so Sebastian and the others would hug the mountain wall. The wind whipped down the trail and tore at us relentlessly, making it even more difficult to proceed. As our movement and positioning became harder, I knew we could not turn around on this narrow sliver of trail. There was no choice but to continue our forward momentum however we might, in hope of finding a wider segment of trail ahead, or a place to pull aside in shelter.

The wind would not relent in the punishment it gave us, blowing in gusts so great they almost threw me from the sleigh. I thought of the promise I had made to Sarah, the promise I had made and broken.

What I thought to be the howling of the wind became the howling and snapping of wolves as a snarl drew my attention to a giant gray wolf that ran along the ridge of the mountain above and beside my head, snapping his feral teeth. Behind me in the distance I heard the pack following us, waiting for the moment to leap upon the sleigh and tear at us in our helplessness.

We must continue to move.

“Sebastian! Lead on!”

The wolves began to close in around us, as they were easily able to match our pace running across the looming boulders above us and the icy trail.

You have come for me at last. You are relentless, unforgiving, unyielding in your mission—just as I am! “On, Sebastian! On!” I shouted.

The howls grew in intensity. I snapped the reins again, and the horses picked up speed. Their hoof beats cracked and ricocheted against the mountain wall.

Wolves snarled closer now, first from one direction then another. They were racing across the mountainside and approaching from behind.
Moving in now. Ready to make their attack. Running at us with teeth bared. Growling. Snarling. Chasing us with savage fury. Anticipating a kill.

One of the vicious creatures dropped from the ridge above into the sleigh and launched itself, rabid and biting, at my face. Frantically I swept the beast aside, and he flew past me only to land on the trail behind us, skidding to a stop and bursting into a run, joining the pack at our heels. My movement had cost us, and the sleigh lurched to the side nearly tipping over the edge. Incredibly, I pulled us back to the wall as we sped on.

Up ahead in the distance, beyond the radiance of the lantern hanging in front of the horses, the moonlight revealed a chasm in the trail where a bridge had once been, now gone, leaving a wide fault that separated us from the trail which picked up on the opposite mountain.

The wolves continued their chase, leaping at us now, almost within reach, desperate in their desire to tear at us and feast.

As the sleigh approached the chasm, the wolves were running along the rocks above my shoulders. One leapt through the air, landing on my chest. I dropped the reins, instinctively shoving it away with all my strength. The cabin of the sleigh rocked and swayed from side to side as we struggled. The wolf tore at my arm as I caught it by the throat and wrestled with it until I was able to throw it from the sleigh and beyond the edge of the cliff, where it fell into the nothingness.

Still, I encouraged Sebastian to lead the horses forward. Their hooves gained speed, blurring as they ran.

The other wolves would not relent. Their yellow fangs remained bared as they sprinted after us, so close I could almost feel their hot breath.

The heads of the horses rocked back and forth in a rhythm as they ran, and for a moment I saw a soft light in the sky or perhaps snow
drifting in the wind or a cloud illuminated in the ebbing moonlight, and I imagined Pel surrounded by the huge puffs of the tobacco smoke he loved to send adrift. Eerily, I could hear the pounding of drums in the distance. I remembered the song Pel sang of me. I remembered Josef's acts of helplessness.

“It is a choice when there are no choices.” And I chose to act!

“Yah!” I shouted, driving the team forward. “If this be our last moment Sebastian, let us fly.”

Sebastian and his team leapt from the trail and into the air.

The black velvet night surrounded us, and the stars took on a greater brilliance, silhouetting us as we flew across the sky and the moon hanging in the night, lead by the lantern sparkling towards distant eyes.