Page 12 of When the Snowman Whispered
Moonlight gave winter a haunting glow. Everything looked enchanting. Even the dark blue sky with its dangling stars and slow-dancing clouds. Magic sparked within the cold winter breeze.
Then, suddenly I could’ve sworn the mermaids giggled. I turned to them. They remained stiff and solid.
I checked behind me.
Santa stood on the side of the house, holding his big belly.
Wait a minute. I thought Santa was by the mailbox. Wasn’t he pointing at the mermaids?
I finished that glass of wine in minutes and opened my second bottle of wine, as the first lay empty at my feet. I’d even snuck out a joint I’d hidden in my attic for monthly mommy-break-down emergencies. My friend had brought a small bag of it along with the blocks of ice. Hopefully, weed didn’t go bad, after sitting around for too long. I’d been proud of the fact that there’d been no reason to pull it out this month.
“It would’ve been nice to have a good man to spend the evening with.” I grabbed my lighter and the joint from my pocket and lit it. The amulet warmed against my skin. “What is up with this thing?”
Mom, what did you put in here? I should’ve asked her that when I had her on the phone.
I pulled the bag out, undid it, and looked inside. The key dangled at the end of the twine. Weird items lay inside—a small vial of blood, tiny animal bones, herbs, and other odd things.
“Mom said you make dreams come true.” I looked up at the snowman. “What do you think? Could this make you real, Remy? That would be my wish—a beautiful ice man coming alive and spending the evening with me.”
The leather burned hot in my fingers and seared the tips.
“Ouch!” I dropped my glass, but still held the bottle. Wine spilled all over the icy ground. The bag hit my chest.
“Ouch!”
Sparks bursts around me. Still gripping the bottle, I batted them away with my free hand. My heart pounded in my ears.
“What the fuck?” I tried to yank the bag off, but it wouldn’t budge. At least it returned to a normal temperature.
Then the whole yard exploded in light. Brilliant, eye-dazzling light. I shielded my eyes until they adjusted.
Where is this coming from?
All around me. Tiny sparks of light appeared and then blurred away. They dangled from the trees and hung all over like Christmas decorations. Green and blue. Red and purple. Silver exploded into gold. They were fireworks without the explosive sound.
Frozen in fear, I sat there and tightened my hold on the bottle. I didn’t know what I would be doing with it. Either drinking all the contents due to my going crazy or beating the crap out of whatever came after these lights.
I should call Mom. Maybe, Brett is right. She might have done something crazy to the property. Not that I believe in that stuff, but. . .maybe I should now.
No one appeared. But music played. That messed with me the most. The melody reminded me of one of those jewelry boxes that had a set of pins placed on a revolving cylinder.
“La-di-da-di-da-di-da.” Over and over, those same notes filled the air. “La-di-da-di-da-di-da.”
I jumped up from my blankets, but kept the bottle in my hand just in case I had to knock someone in the head. My nerves flared on edge. I’d been around Mom enough not to fear the unbelievable—the things that couldn’t be explained. However, that didn’t mean I couldn’t be scared out of my mind.
Feminine giggles sounded.
“Hello?” I must’ve spun around in circles, searching for the women who were laughing.
A rush of wind came and my little camp fire went out. The sparks of color left too. But the music continued and a lovely scent filled the air. Juniper berries or maybe pine needles.
What’s going on?
The bag cooled and then vibrated against my chest. I didn’t touch it. Backing up, I held my hands out to the sides and prayed to God. Mom always said that when dark things came, just pray and God’s light would make them run off. I said a prayer, but the music continued to play. I backed up fast, but when I looked down I was still standing right next to the first empty bottle.
I need to call Mom, after I run out of here screaming.
My feet wouldn’t let me move. They remained stuck in place. Planted even. Like trees that had grown and lived in the same forest for decades. I’d rooted myself to the area and would not leave.
