The Twelve Prompts of Christmas - Prompt #2
Your story must begin with the sentence: They said it was going to rain.
You must also work in these five things:
1. A line from a favourite poem or a quote
2. Something made of velvet
3. A wink
4. A stained glass window
5. A childhood memory
Your story must end with the sentence: I stared at it for a long time, then I turned off the radio.
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They said it was going to rain. But I could see out the picture window that the sleet was turning into big sloppy flakes.
Christmas eve. I hadn't been on my own for Christmas since the family moved to Lexington. I was the only one left in the big house that Dad built. All my friends had gone off to school and started families. But here I was, alone on the eve.
I decided to make a new tradition.
I dressed in the green velvet Victorian dress gifted me by my best friends. Mom had sewn it. It reminded me of the costumes from The Nutcracker or a Dickens novel. I felt special when I wore it—like I was living in a different era—the era where I belonged—an era of grace and elegance. I will wear this every Christmas.
Ever since I was a kid, I was always dressing up in old wedding gowns, speaking in a British accent. Mom said my first words, at four years of age, spoken like a posh English butler, were "I.. am a dirt. I was so happy, making messes everywhere. But then... came Lestoil, and spoiled all my fun!" I was quoting a TV commercial for a cleaning product. "Be a dirt again!" she exclaimed.
-
I decided to walk into town. Maybe I would find some Christmas caroling. That would be nice for my tradition. In the old days, people walked everywhere. That's how I liked to do it. I didn't like cars. I didn't even drive. Twenty-four years old, and I had never driven a car.
It was a twenty-minute walk through neighborhood streets to the town center. As I trudged along, the neighborhood was mysteriously transformed from hard angles and wet roads reflecting harsh street lights into a fairyland of soft white flakes hushing down into a seamless carpet. My breath escaped in soft puffs. Boots crunching in snow was the only sound in a sphere of silence falling, heavy and gentle. A trail of footprints left a brief signature: a person was here.
Far off to my right I detected a faint tinkling sound. Wind chimes! It couldn't get more magical.
Suddenly, THUNK!
Just up the block, headlights. Then emergency blinkers. Then the click-creak of a car door opening. "Shit! Oh, no! Oh, no!"
A figure emerged from the dark sedan, bundled in wool, peering to the street in front of the car. "Oh. Oh. ...Huh." I crunch-jogged up to them.
"Are you okay?" I slowed as I approached.
Then I recognized Ronnie Sack. My high school crush. Omigosh. Ronnie! I haven't seen him since ... since graduation!
"Yeah, I thought I hit somebody. It was a damn snowman!" That explains the cursing. And then the not-cursing.
I snorted, and then laughed. I peeked up through the snowflakes on my lashes, afraid I'd offended him. But he was peeking back, and a grin started to emerge, his eyes twinkling.
I cleared my throat, watching Ronnie's blue eyes. "Well, I'm sorry Frosty's been slushed, but I'm glad you're okay."
Suddenly recognition dawned on his face. "Hey, Dee. How are you doin'?"
I blushed. "G-good. Just looking for some Christmas caroling. I'm starting a new tradition." Why was I telling him this? I must seem like a nut case. If I could blush deeper I did. Thank goodness for dusk and freezing temperatures! Maybe he wouldn't notice. Did he know he was my big crush?
Ronnie took a breath.
"Are you cold? I'm freezing! I think they're doing a carol-sing at the Uni-church. Can I drive you?"
"Yes! I mean, thanks, sure." This was happening. Ronnie. Here. His car. Christmas. Oh, my.
I climbed in. He did a careful (very careful) three-point turn, and we slowly crunched through the snow-clad streets into town.
-
Inside the church there were maybe fifty people or so. The Unitarian Church was the oldest one in town. Ralph Waldo Emerson had preached there. The pews had the polished warmth of history and present familiarity. Evergreen garlands were hung with red bows all around. The simple stained glass windows were dark now, as golden light illuminated the hall.
Joy To The World, The Lord Is Come!
Ronnie and I took a seat towards the back. An usher handed us a carol book, but I didn't need sheet music. Christmas Carols were part of my DNA. I'd been singing with the family in four-part harmony since I could talk.
Ronnie sang melody, and I came in with the harmony. We sang and sang. Soon I forgot I was with my high school crush. Soon there was just the singleness of everybody together, making music, being happy.
I looked over at Ronnie. He looked at me. He winked. I grinned. He reached out and squeezed my hand, then let it go to turn the page.
It Came Upon A Midnight Clear...
-
Shuffling back from the kitchen, I paused to put on the radio before settling on the couch. WCRB, the classical station. They were playing a recording of Messiah! I loved that piece. Dad had performed it a few times with the Lexington Choral Society. They even made a record album of it. I used to love lying under the grand piano listening to him practice the tenor solo. His voice was big and beautiful. It was scary how he could fill a room with his singing.
I curled up at the end of the couch taking a sip of my hot cocoa with a dollop of Bailey's. I hummed in approval. This was definitely going to be part of my tradition.
I closed my eyes. The music was gorgeous. Rich tones, haunting melodies transporting me to a feeling place full of heart.
When the recording was finished, the announcer said, "That was Handel's Messiah! sung by the Lexington Choral Society, Ray Bryan, lead tenor. Now, for something a little more modern..."
"That's your Dad, right?" Ronnie asked.
"Yeah. I guess I have to add listening to Messiah! to my tradition." This all felt so right. Ronnie. Hot cocoa with Bailey's. Caroling, A peaceful night, cloaked in snow.
I looked over at Ronnie. There was the distance of a few cushions between us. I shifted a little. So did he.
Ronnie reached out and put his hand over mine.
I stared at it for a long time, then I turned off the radio.
THE END
YOU ARE READING
A Baker's Dozen of Christmas What-Ifs
Cerita PendekThirteen short stories I submitted as entries into the "Twelve Prompts of Christmas" contest, created by Carol Ann Shaw (@WriterOnTheIsland). Each of these stories is based on real-life events. Several of them are plain-old non-fiction. Can you g...