“… radiance bee-eams from heaven above.
Heavenly ho-osts sing hallelujah.
Christ our Savior is bo-orn.
Chri-ist our Savior is born.”
The voices fell silent. A whisper came from the front seat as the man in the driver’s seat turned and asked, “Has Lara dropped off, Ulysses?” The little girl was strapped into her booster seat behind the front passenger, hugging The Velveteen Rabbit, with it’s Christmas bow still pressed on the top corner of the cover. The chubby tween, sitting close to his sleeping sister for warmth, smiled and nodded, rubbing his gloved hands together.
The woman in the front passenger seat smiled, reaching back to pull the blanket more snuggly around both children. She pulled the voluminous overcoat covering she and her husband more tightly around them and pressed closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Kissing top of her head, he rested his on hers, cushioned against her jet black hair. He smiled when she gave a friendly wave to the patrolman passing their car on the way back to his cruiser; the patrolman waved back with a friendly smile. Half an hour ago, he had stopped at their car, as he had done all the stopped cars lined up, to tell them the city workmen were hand-spreading de-icing chemicals on the hill because it was too steep for the sand trucks to handle, and that the road would be clearing in about an hour.
The man spoke softly, with laughter in his voice, “Mihra, I’ll get jealous if you keep flirting with Officer Polk.”
“You? Never.” She responded with gentle teasing in her heavily accented and musical voice, “Carter, you know nothing of how to be jealous.” They pressed even closer together.
Ulysses whispered with sleepy approval, “Papa, you should hear mama… She always tells people how great you are.”
“Hush Uly!” Mihra admonished, with a hushed laugh. “You give papa a head too much too big.”
The tween’s chortle was muffled as he snuggled back and pulled the blanket up around his jaw. His eyes closed and he too finally dozed off next to Lara.
When he was sure both backseat passengers were asleep, Carter lifted Mihra’s face and kissed her gently, with a contented sigh. The snowfall finally petered out. The lights set up for the workmen brightly illuminated the workers toiling on the rising hill of the road before them. The couple watched the scene drowsily for several more minutes.
Suddenly, a cacophony of horns and shouts rose over the hill. A big rig hove into view at the top of the rise and started down the hill, the driver ignoring troopers and workmen trying to wave him off. As soon as the rig topped the hill, it began sliding and turning sideways, before beginning to roll helter-skelter downhill, over parked cars ahead. Workmen scattered, diving out of its path.
Carter stretched behind him trying to release Lara from her booster seat. At the same time, Mihra wrenched Carter’s seatbelt unbuckled as she reached across, flinging his door open and shoving him out. Hitting the release on her own seatbelt, she jumped to her knees and reached over her seat to do the same to her sleeping baby girl with Ulysses’ help, as Carter flung back car door open. Mihra shoved them both out the door as Carter pulled. Then, he flung them behind him and reached for Mihra. But, she waved him away and started out her own door. Her screams stopped as the semi-truck rolled on, dragging the crushed wreck of the car, Mirha’s twisted corpse dragging half out the mangled, open passenger side. Officer Polk and several road workers clung desperately to Carter and Ulysses who surged toward the wreck. Everyone was flung off their feet when the big rig exploded. Carter clutched Ulysses close, shattered by searing screams but hearing only the feral howling of his son. Officer Polk rushed to help one of the workers and stumbled over little Lara’s book, almost completely unscathed where it had fallen.
Two Years Later…
Bright sunshine pierced the late afternoon gloom of the small, cozy front room. The little girl at the window glowed in the beam of light that fell across her. Her jet black sheath of hair glittered blue in the light. The sunlight split into beams as it haloed around her, unpleasantly illuminating the sagging, dusty Christmas tree with obviously old, unopened gifts beneath it. An overstuffed wing chair and cluttered table sat next to the hearth. Next to the chair, a low, cozy fire danced behind the grate in the fireplace. The child pressed her nose against the clear, broad pane of glass in the center of the picture window seat where she knelt, looking out. She sighed in a forlorn way, watching her father shoveling snow, up onto the waist-high walls of packed snow already lining the walkway.
Her brother came crashing raucously into the house from school. His dark hair was an unkempt, shoulder-length mess with its multi-colored streaks dyed haphazardly through it. Throwing his backpack at the corner of the window seat, he shrugged off his jacket and scarf and hung them aggressively on a peg next to the door. He crossed the room and knelt briefly on the seat, almost on top of his sister. The prothesis extending from his knee thunked roundly against the hollow base of the window seat. He glared at his father who had finished shoveling snow and was standing at the end of the walk. He was wistfully watching neighborhood children at play as he collected the mail. The tall, lanky teen’s face wore a perpetual grimace as he watched his father outside.
Lara smiled and greeted him with her soft, lilting voice, “Uly, Uly, Uly. Play with me, Uly!” Ulysses said nothing.
The fog from Ulysses breath on the windowpane clouded Lara’s view. Ulysses turned and sat with a huff, fiddling with his prosthesis. He turned back to the window, watching Carter trudge disconsolately up the walk, seeming increasingly weighted with each step up to the porch. Ulysses stood abruptly and headed to the kitchen for a snack.
Reading registration forms for the clinic the orthopedic surgeon had promised to mail him, Carter stopped, unable to lift his damaged leg the last step onto the porch. The hinge mechanism at his knee had locked, as it often did in the cold. Struggling with it, he thought how the surgery promised to release him from the cage around his leg. For a moment, he imagined the joy of training and running marathons again… He hated himself for even imagining happiness without Mihra. Carter violently crumpled the papers and tossed them aside. He angrily slammed the palm of his hand against the hinge, wrenching it back to functionality, then continued into the house.
Letting Go…
Ulysses came back into the living room to find his father reading to Lara again. She sat there, wreathed in light, happily beaming up at her father. Angry tears sprang to his eyes. Ulysses couldn’t stand it any longer. “Stop it! It’s been two years!”
Ulysses angrily stomped over and stepped between them and sunset’s light streaming through the big picture window. Lara vanished and Carter cried out and sank his head into his hands, sobbing. Letting go of his anger, Ulysses levered himself to his knees. He and Carter held each other and Ulysses sobbed with his father. Carter leaned back and met his son’s stricken expression. He looked at the children’s book in his lap. The velveteen of the rabbit on the cover was worn bare and the Christmas bow adhering to the top corner was crushed, faded and tattered. Carter knew what he needed to do. He reached out with the book toward the fire. Ulysses stopped his hand. He met his father’s eyes, but innately knew this was the way to free Lara. Carter patted his son’s trembling hand, then together they placed the book reverently on the fire.
Smoke rose from the book’s curling pages… They heard music… the strains of Silent Night. They turned toward the sound coming from near the Christmas tree – now fresh and new. There, glowing golden in the last light from the sunset through the window, stood Mihra with Lara’s hand in hers. Love radiated from them both. Mihra crossed the room and brushed Carter’s lips with a smiling kiss that was like a soft, warm breeze. She brushed a glowing hand caressingly along Ulysses’ cheek. He thought he could feel her glow as a warmth his heart had not felt these last two years. As Mihra and Lara faded from view, something fluttered to floor. Ulysses picked it up and handed it to Carter. Carter wept again, smiling as he opened the pristine, uncrumpled forms for the clinic, as the last strains of Silent Night faded to silence.
