Page 5 of When the Snowman Whispered
“It’s war.” I took off my gloves. “Prepare to witness Mommy’s wrath!”
Roaring, I formed my hands into fists and stomped around.
I glanced at my ice god. “Do you have any idea where they are?”
He didn’t move his full lips. His cheeks didn’t twitch, but wind whipped by and someone whispered,“Car.”
Holy shit. That was real. I swear on everything that someone said something.
I looked around to make sure no one had sneaked up on us.
Someone had definitely spoken. I felt it in my bones, snaking up my spine and bubbling deep within my soul. I spun around, listening, staring, searching for the noise or any sign of where it could’ve come from.
I’m going crazy.
All around, my ice people lounged as if they owned the property. The snow looked more like sugar than bits of ice. Whimsical and bright. Flakes fell around them.
Four elves stood frozen along the walkway stacking presents.
Two mermaids swam together on the front lawn. I’d spent an entire day on their tails, whittling a design of tiny scales and attaching blue pieces of glass to their fins. Swirly icicles formed their hair.
A frozen Santa stood next to the mailbox. He pointed to the mermaids and laughed.
Is this how it starts when a person goes crazy? The voices come first.
In the center of it all, my snowman beamed in the sunlight. No one else was there. Just the girls and me.
“Watch out.”
“What?” I spun around. Another snow ball slammed into my leg and brought my mind back to reality.
Forget about voices and stuff. I just need to relax. I’m fine. Everything is going to be okay.
I sighed.
Where are those crazy girls?
I thought of a new plan and didn’t rush off to search for them. Instead, I leaned my head back and caught snowflakes with my tongue. After a minute of doing this, one of the girls spoke out.
“What are you doing, Mommy?” Meadow whispered from somewhere behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, but didn’t see her.
Hmmm. Maybe, she is near the car.
“What am I doing?” I said. “I’m eating snowflakes. Of course.”
The girls giggled.
Yeah. They’re by the car.
I backed in that direction, but didn’t turn around. “When I was young, I would lay in the snow and look at the sky.”
“What did you think about?” Meadow’s voice sounded closer.
“I daydreamed about angels, high up in the clouds, designing beautiful snowflakes. I wondered, did their fingertips get numb by the hundredth flake?” I wiggled my fingers. “And how much hot chocolate did God have to buy before winter? Angels love hot chocolate. I figured God must’ve stockpiled marshmallows all summer.”
They giggled again.
Got them.
