I heaved another shovel of the fluffy white powder away from the walkway. Luckily, the newly fallen snow was light and easy to lift because my arms were noodles. Harry had really been amping up the training sessions over the past few days as Christmas Eve-Eve neared and I was definitely feeling it now.
The snow started early this morning and had already blanketed the earth in a thick layering nearly a foot deep. The sky started to clear up about twenty minutes ago, so my parents sent me out to get a start on clearing the walk before the imminent round two began.
The sun was now peaking through the white sky, making the ground sparkle and reflect so brightly I considered going back inside to retrieve my sunglasses. Snow cloaked the trees thin branches, but occasionally gusts of wind would stir them up, making the powder blow through the air like a cloud of white smoke.
Despite my sore arms, I had made record breaking progress. I nearly cleared the entire walkway and half of the driveway before I heard the crunching of snow coming from the street. An old silver sedan rolled up slowly in front of where I was standing before coming to a hault.
I paused my shoveling for a moment to glance up at the man who was now exiting the car. He pulled the hood of his jacket over his grey hair and stared up at the house behind me nostalgically.
“Hello,” I spoke. A large white cloud of my breath drifted through the air, momentarily blocking my view of the man.
When I finally caught a glimpse of him again, he was standing in our walk only a few feet ahead of me.
“Hello Miss. Shoveling for your parents are you?” He smiled brightly, his deep blue eyes squinting as he did so.
“Yes I am.”
“That’s very nice of you,” he chuckled lightly. I knew the rule was not to talk to strangers, but I had already broken that rule since we moved here and it was fine, so why stop now? That probably was terrible logic.
The man seemed trustworthy, but I was holding a metal snow shovel if otherwise. “Did your car break down or something?” I asked the man whose eyes were still locked on the property.
“No, no I’m sorry. I just used to live here,” he said. A soft, almost pained smile formed on his chapped lips.
I had to keep my mouth from falling open. “Are you Henry Sawyer?”
He finally brought his gaze back to me. He appeared slightly amused by my outburst. “You say that as if I am some type of celebrity. Yes, I’m Henry Sawyer.”
“Did my parents call you?” I tried to keep myself together as I stood before him. He almost was a celebrity in my eyes. He was married to the Isabelle Sawyer. I finally got to put a face to the name of the person who I assumed held so many of the answers I had been searching for since I first moved into this house.
He looked older than I expected him to; small wrinkles prominent on his forehead.
He furrowed his thick brow, “No they didn’t.”
“Oh—um.”
“Why? Is something wrong with the house? I haven’t lived in it for many years.”
“No—well yes. You see the roof has to be completely replaced and there is almost no insulation in the upstairs. There is actually a lot wrong with the house now that I think about it,” I told him honestly.
“Yeah I know,” he laughed, “It was my wife’s childhood home so it was hard to let go of despite its imperfections.”
My heart began racing as I could no longer contain my dying questions. “Do you remember the large casement window in one of the bedrooms being particularly imperfect? As in opening nearly every night?”
YOU ARE READING
Neverland
Fanfiction"There could not have been a lovelier sight; but there was none to see it except a little boy who was staring in at the window. He had ecstasies innumerable that other children can never know; but he was looking through the window at the one joy fro...
