A Winter’s Tale

Today, I thought that I would do something a little different than my normal article. In the spirit of Christmas, Yule, or any other holiday you celebrate, I wanted to share a story that I wrote. A story that offers a different version of the traditional tale. What if Santa was more than just a gift giver? 

I give you, “A Winter’s Tale,” I hope you enjoy. Happy Holidays!

A Winter’s Tale

A cold wind swept across the field as a nearly full moon hung in the sky. It was a night so crisp and clean that it felt like the entire universe was on display.  A fresh blanket of snow had fallen, adding to the beauty of the night. As the wind blew, the bare tree branches clattered together. 

It was a night that just felt like Christmas. 

A cozy house sat dark at the edge of the field. The family had long ago fallen asleep. The Christmas tree twinkled in the darkness, waiting for the family to wake up and gather under its branches to open the mounds of gifts stacked beneath it. Every package was wrapped in a different array of dazzling colors, topped with intricately folded bows, and cards displaying names in perfect calligraphy.

On a small table next to the empty fireplace sat a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, waiting for the most special guest to arrive. Next to the milk sat a note scrawled in a child’s hand that said:

“Dear Santa, 

 Here is a small snack for your journey tonight. I have been a good boy this year. Enjoy the cookies. 

Merry Christmas and love,

Henry

P.S. I really would love a bike for Christmas.”

Up the stairs and on the left was the bedroom of young Henry. Inside, he lay asleep dreaming of all the wonderful toys he would be playing with the next morning. Down the hall was the bedroom of Henry’s parents, Jim and Linda. Both fast asleep, tired from putting together toys for their son’s Christmas morning. Jim was lightly snoring as Linda rolled to her other side, drifting deeper to sleep. 

As Henry lay fast asleep, a loud thump on the roof shook the house. Henry stirred, mumbled, and grabbed his stuffed bunny before drifting back asleep. Footsteps and a dragging sound could be heard on the roof, followed by something sliding down the chimney. With a grunt and a few moans, a figure emerged from the fireplace and sat his sack close to the tree. As he stood up, he glanced at the tree and a soft “Ho, Ho, Ho” was uttered.  He took in the site of the large tree before him. It was trimmed in twinkle lights that gave off a soft warm glow. Branches were covered in ornaments from the childhood of Jim and Linda and included a memory for little Henry’s first Christmas. It was a living museum of the lives of the small family.

Garland in red, the color of pomegranate, wound through the branches, wrapping it like fine jewelry and led all the way to the top of the tree where a Santa tree topper sat. This was no ordinary Santa tree topper. This Santa was dressed in the finest Laplander garb, a long flowing red robe, trimmed in the finest brown fur of a coyote. His boots were black like midnight on the winter solstice, his pants were a deep pine green that led up to a red shirt donned with deep black buttons and a soft white fur collar. His face was circled in a curly white beard the color of freshly fallen snow. On his head was a red hat trimmed in the same fur that was on his robe. In his right hand was a staff that was topped with a lantern and on his left was a reindeer, sitting on its legs.

As the figure took upon the tree topper, a warmth filled his eyes and a soft smiled stretched his mouth.  Strung across the fireplace were three stockings and had the names, Mom, Dad, and Henry, intricately stitched across the top. To the left of the fireplace sat an old dark brown leather chair. This used to be the prized seat in the house, it was a place that Henry loved to be. He would sit on his father’s lap as he listened to the stories from the many books on the shelves behind the chair. It had been his escape from the world, for the briefest of moments. Beside the chair stood the small table that had a plate of cookies, a glass of milk, and the note from little Henry. The figure picked up the note and read the words that Henry had scrawled on it. As he got to the last line, the figures eyes narrowed as a grin played across his face. As he smiled, he turned back to the tree and, unbeknownst to the figure, his sack bumped the table and caused it to slide across the floor. 

Upstairs, Henry was pulled from his slumber when he heard the scraping of the table on the living room floor. He sat upright in his bed as quietly as he could. He held his breath as he strained to listen for any sound. To Henry’s surprise, he heard a small “Ho, Ho, Ho” coming from downstairs. His pulse beat like a bass drum in his chest, his mind filled the excitement of Santa in his living room. Henry slowly peeled the covers back from his legs. He ever so slowly spun his legs over the side of the bed and eased onto the floor. He held his breath as he took a step across the floor, only letting it out when his foot was firmly planted on the ground. It felt like hours stretched by as he moved delicately to the door, but it only took a matter of a few seconds. Henry ever so carefully turned the doorknob and pulled the door open enough to squeeze through.

…

The figure pulled his sack to him and as he did so, a slight scraping noise was made. He thought nothing of it. He opened his sack and bent over it, peering into it. He moved things around, as if looking for just the right thing. Occasionally, he would stop, look up, laugh softly, and continue rummaging around in his sack. The figure thought he heard something upstairs, so he stopped, briefly, to listen. Hearing nothing, he continued his work.

…

Once Henry was outside his bedroom, he stopped and listened. He heard the faintest sounds of someone moving things around and laughing. Henry excitedly crept towards the landing, trying not to make a sound. The living room was situated in such a way that you could not see it from the top landing of the stairs. Henry sat down on the first step to listen and make sure he was not heard. Not anything, he slid to the next step, then the next step. Henry made it to the next landing where he could see the big leather chair, he used to love, just next to the fireplace. He could barely make out the shape of someone next to the tree. Even more carefully, Henry moved down the remaining set of steps, one at a time. He would pause at each step to make sure he wasn’t heard. As Henry got to the last step, he carefully stood up and peered around the banister. There before him was a mound of a figure garbed in a red robe trimmed in coyote fur with black boots peering out under the hem of the robe.

Henry could not believe his eyes, before him stood ‘the Santa’, his dreams had come true, and Santa came to visit him. Overcome with joy, Henry breathily exclaimed “Santa!!” 

…

The figure was still stooped over the tree but heard the softest so scrapings coming down the stairs. A grin split his face as he knew this must be the young Henry coming to spy on him. He didn’t quicken his pace nor try to hide. He did not want to let on to young Henry, that he knew he had snuck out of bed. He busied himself as Henry descended the remaining steps. As Henry quietly exclaimed “Santa,” he started to stand up.

…

Henry saw that Santa was standing up and he excitedly stood his ground waiting to see his face grinning at him. He was so excited that he almost forgot what he had asked for. The figure rose up to his full height and slowly started to turn towards Henry. As the figure turned, the hood of the robe fell back and the red and fur trimmed Santa hat came into view. As the figure fully turned towards Henry, it lifted its face. Henry’s eyes were wide in the shock of spying upon Santa in his living room. His mind raced with all the things he wanted to say and visions of what gifts he would get. Henry had never been this excited.

Something cut through the visions Henry was having, it was the laugh of Santa, but somehow slightly different than Henry was expected. As each word was uttered, it seemed to slow down and become darker. It was at that point that Henry noticed something was not right. The face staring at him was dark black with a dirty grey beard wrapped around a pointy chin. The eyes that stared into Henry’s young soul were black as pitch. A long sharp red tongue, framed by rows of sharp pointed teeth, snaked out if its mouth and licked its lips just before he deeply uttered “Hennnnn-reeeee…”

Henry’s excitement turned to terror as he took in the figure before him. He thought, surely, he must be dreaming. He tried to shake himself awake but the figure laughed at this movement. Henry tried to back away, but he was frozen, in place, with fear. His mind couldn’t seem to do anything but focus on the shape in front of him. How could this be? Santa was supposed to be the jolly man, round and jovial but this, this was terrifying beyond belief. The figured seemed to move towards Henry but it wasn’t like someone walking, it was almost like it was gliding across the floor without moving its legs. The closer it got; the more fear Henry felt but he still could not move.

The figure stretched out its arm towards Henry. At the end of its arm was something that could only be described as a claw. I looked a little like a hand in that it had five digits. But each one was curled in an unreal fashion and came to a point with a sharp nail. Seeing the hand move closer to his face, Henry wanted to turn and run or just disappear from this very spot, but neither happened. He stood there terrified and not able to utter a sound. The hand moved ever closer to Henry’s shoulder and suddenly the claws wrapped around his shoulder. The touch seemed to send a shock through Henry’s body and suddenly his mind was filled with images. 

————-

It was like a movie started playing in Henry’s mind and he was the main character. As the first images started in his mind, Henry saw himself in the living room earlier in the year. He had been playing with his toys while his father was at work and his mother was cooking in the kitchen. On the mantle of the fireplace sat his mother’s prized possession. It was a porcelain doll her mother left her before she died. Henry reached for the doll thinking it would be the perfect damsel in distress for his castle. He perched the fragile doll in the tower keep of his little castle and surrounded it with dragons, trolls, and small toys that would protect the castle from invaders. Henry grabbed his favorite toy, Batman, and placed him on the back of a horse. As Henry had the Batman toy attempt to storm the castle, he got carried away and knocked the fragile doll from the castle. As it hit the floor, it broke into pieces, the head had come off the body and, at the waist, the figure broke in half. Each were clean breaks, almost perfect. Henry’s mother heard the crash and came to investigate. She found Henry seated in front of his toys and the small porcelain doll broken on the floor near the hearth of the fireplace. Devastated, she asked Henry what happened. Henry with a look of confusion and fear uttered that the cat had jumped onto the mantle and knocked it off. He then pointed to the cat sitting in the leather chair bathing itself. His mother looked back at him and asked again. “What happened?” Henry pleaded that it was the cat, it had jumped onto the mantle and knocked off the doll before jumping to the chair to lay down. His mother saw the sadness and fear in his eyes and believed him. Grabbed the cat and threw it outside. 

The scene changed before Henry could process what he was seeing. Suddenly, it was early summer, and Henry was playing outside. His cat kept pestering him, as he played. Henry was getting aggravated that the cat would not leave him alone. Again, he pushed it away and said he had wished his mother would have gotten rid of it when she believed that it knocked over her doll. The cat looked lovingly at Henry and softly chittered at him. Henry became mad, thinking the cat was mocking him. He grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck and tried to shove it in a sack that was laying close back. The cat became very upset and started growling and hissing. “Hey Henry, stop, you are hurting that kitty,” he heard from the edge of his yard. As he looked up, he noticed that Sally from next door was staring straight at him.  Sally then said, “Let that kitty alone or I will tell your mommy.” Henry told her to mind her own business and started to walk away. It was at that moment he heard Sally start yelling for his mother. He looked at her and yelled “FINE!!!” Then he opened the bag and let the cat out. “I wasn’t going to hurt it; I was only playing.” He begged Sally not to tell on him.

The scene changed again. This time, Henry was at school on the playground. School had just started. All the kids were playing and having a bit of fun away from the classroom. In the middle of the playground was Sally talking to her friends and showing off her new dress. She was very excited about it and her friends complimented her on it. Sally was very popular at school, whereas Henry was the one that didn’t have many friends. Henry always made excuses as to why. He thought Sally must be bribing kids to be friends with her, inviting them over to show off how rich she was or what new toys she had. It made Henry feel bad, like he was some poor kid that no one wanted around. As the bell rang for the end or recess, everyone started moving back towards the school. Sally had to go near one of the trees to collect her bag, before going in. Her friends said they would meet her inside. Henry was hiding behind the tree, watching Sally. As she started to walk towards the school, she noticed the large mud puddle in front of her and tried to walk around it. Suddenly, she felt a strong push from behind and before she knew what happened she was engulfed in a cold and thick embrace. She tried to scream but as she opened her mouth it was filled with liquid that tasted like dirt. She tried to spit it out as fast as she could. As she rolled around in the mud, Henry laughed and ran the opposite direction. Two minutes later and the teacher came looking for Sally and saw her sitting in the mud crying. The teacher asked what happened and all Sally could really say was that it felt like someone had pushed her down hard. She did not see who it was but, in her heart, she knew it had to be Henry. She tried to tell her teacher that, but her teacher said that wasn’t possible because Henry was in the classroom and had come back around the time she must have fallen. Sally tried to make the teacher believe but the teacher said she could not see how he was in two places at once. 

The hot breath of the figure before him brought Henry out of his visions. Those deep dark eyes swallowed Henry’s remaining reason and left him standing there with his mouth open. The figure looked at Henry and exclaimed “Baaaaad boy.” Henry wanted to protest, tried to say anything but no words came from his mouth. He stood there, staring in terror. The figure reached into his sack and pulled out a small orb in the shape of a bell. As the figure held it up in front of Henry’s eyes, a bright golden glow filled the orb. As the light grew brighter it appeared to get bigger, filling the entire room. Suddenly, Henry was wrapped in this golden light, but it somehow felt freezing and not warm like the golden color suggested. He felt his body awash in this light and tingling as it covered him. The tingling grew in sensation until it felt like a million ants were crawling over Henry.  The light grew brighter and brighter. 

Suddenly, the light was gone and so was the figure and Henry.  All that was left was a swirl of snowflakes. Outside, the bells of a sleigh could be heard overhead, racing off towards the full moon.  Deep chuckles of “Ho, Ho, Ho” could be heard on the wind.

The next morning, Jim and Linda made their way down to the living room. They sat on the couch that was in front of their Christmas tree. With sleep still filling their eyes and brains, it took them a moment to notice all the gifts under the tree. A cat jumped into the lap of Jim just as Linda noticed one package that stood out of place from all the others. She moved towards it and noticed that it had her name on it. It was wrapped in antique wrapping paper and almost felt like a cross between linen and silk. It felt special and unique. she had never seen the likes of it before. She seemed puzzled by this gift but collected it and began to open it.  

As the brightly lit antique paper fell away, she opened the box, and a gasp escaped her lips as her hand came towards her mouth. Jim asked her what was wrong. Linda slowly pulled an antique porcelain figure from the box. A ballerina posed on the tip of her toe, an arm arched over her and fingers touching its head, and the other arm extended out straight from the shoulder and ending in a point. It’s as the figure her mother had given her before she died. She had forgotten about it. Tears started to pool in her eyes, and she turned to her husband with the little gift. Jim seemed puzzled and said, “I thought it was lost?” “I thought it was,” she replied. They both looked at each other, as if waiting for something or someone to come join them. They both snapped back to the present, smiled at one another and Jim started handing gifts to Linda to open. They laughed and cried as they opened each gift. The warmth of Christmas Day filled them both. Linda looked at Jim before leaning into kiss him. She smiled and gazed into his eyes as she said, “Merry Christmas.”

Many thanks

If you got to the end of this story, thank you for taking the time to read it. It is one of my longer posts but this is a story that I have written. It came to me after taking Karl to Pennsylvania for his birthday. There we met up with my sister and her husband. We went to several Christmas markets and just had fun. It was there I started having ideas about this story and on our way back from Pennsylvania, I wrote most of it on our six hour trip. Then a few weeks of flushing it out and correcting things. I am sure I still missed a few, please forgive me.

So, now it is up to you. What did you think of the story? Do you see the others myths woven in but with a slight difference? Did you enjoy it? Let me know in the comments below. This is but one of a four part anthology, all of which are finally written. Now, to decide what to do with them.

Thank you all, again, for taking the time to share this story with me. Much love to each and everyone of you this Holiday season.