✔ A Minute in Heaven || Wattys 2017

Chapter Six - The Wonder of Brightness

I don't know.

...

Alfred joined me at work a few days later. My boss was understandably obstinate when Alfred asked to be hired, but with a little persuasion on my part, he conceded. Alfred was quick to prove himself after repairing a broken down car which had been given up as a lost cause. It was enough for him to start making money.

It was around the third week of December when Alfred's behavior changed.

It started with the letters. Every night, after finishing his log entries, he'd write three letters, one for Dad, one for Pops, and one for Matthew, and address them all to different places. He'd get up very early the next day to send them. I guessed that they were to reassure his family and let them know that he was, in fact, not dead.

Alfred then started taking extensive detours to get home. By the time he'd get home, dinner would be almost over. He'd always be exhausted, with purple bags under his eyes and sweat on his face, despite it being a very, very cold winter. Natalia was constantly on her guard around him, giving him almost murderous glares any chance she got. Even Katyushka was doubting him more and more.

What if he really is an American spy? I asked myself. What if Natalia was right all along?

I had no way to confirm or deny the thoughts in my head. They drove me nearly mad with worry, and they were all I could think as I went to sleep each night.

+ + + + +

On the Tuesday of the last full week of December, I woke up to find that Alfred was gone.

I was quickly on my guard. I looked at the edge of my bed to see that there was no bomber jacket draped over my coat. I didn't have to look to know that Alfred wasn't lying next to me; I couldn't feel his warmth. I checked in the washroom, but he wasn't there, either. Nor was he in my mother's bedroom.

Is he trying to trick me? I asked myself. Is this all some kind of joke?

As I was going back to my bedroom, I heard a soft humming from downstairs. The voice was unmistakably Alfred's. As quietly as I could, I crept downstairs into the main hall and to the living room.

I couldn't believe my own eyes. The living room was always a huge, imposing sort of place, with its baroque style and lavish décor. Now, however, it had been transformed into a miniature winter wonderland. Strips of shredded metal had been woven into delicate tinsel, which had been draped high above the room. Handmade carvings of leaping deer and snowflakes hung at the windows. A small yet dignified fir tree decorated with ornaments and more tinsel stood in the corner of the room. Beneath it were several colorful packages with little bows on top.

And there, kneeling next to a crackling fireplace, was Alfred, smiling like the sun.

"Good morning, Ivan!" Alfred beamed. "Merry Christmas!"

I gazed all around the newly decorated room, stunned. It didn't take me long to realize that this was what he'd been doing. He'd been preparing for today, not spying or plotting anything nefarious.

"Ya like it?" Alfred asked. "Took me a while. I didn't want to blow the surprise!"

"S-Spasibo," I replied, "but what is all this for?"

"Christmas," Alfred said. "Did you forget or something?"

"N-Nyet," I said. "It's just that I don't..."