A Snow Christmas, Part 6

            “Hi, kids!” Dad pleasantly greeted us.

            “Hi,” I said.

            “Good news! The roads leading to Clarksville are getting plowed this very minute! By tomorrow morning, we’ll be on our way,” he grinned. Ordinarily, Robby and I would have exploded with happiness. Thoughts whizzed through my mind, trying to find out if I really wanted to go our not.

            “You don’t look to happy,” Mom said. I smiled.

            “Oh we’re happy,” I said. “It’s just…just…” I sent pleading look to Robby for help.

            “Um…” Robby said, stumbling for words. It was the phone that got us out of that one. It rang, giving us just enough time to seek refuge in my bedroom. I quickly shut the door.

            “Robby! We can’t leave tomorrow!” I cried. “It would drive me crazy not to know what’s going on here!”

            “Me too,” Robby sighed, plopping down on my bed. I walked over to the window. Tomorrow at this time, we would be in Clarksville, an hour’s ride from here. I knew that if I ever wanted to know what was going on, I needed to find out fast.  

                                                                        ***

           

            Click. I snapped shut my brown leather suitcase and dragged it into the living room. It was the next morning, Mom and Dad were having breakfast, and Robby and I had gotten an early start in packing.

            “Let’s go to the fort one last time,” Robby suggested. I nodded my head and followed him out the front door.

            “Last one there’s a rotten egg!” he cried, taking off. I grinned. I loved a good challenge. I raced and had almost caught up with him, when I saw it. I skidded to a stop. Panting, I looked up and saw that Robby had stopped dead in his tracks too. His eyes were wide with surprise. Sitting in the middle of the fort, was a little boy. He played with the snow, oblivious to the people that stared at him. He had messy blonde hair that shaggily hung over his ears. I took a step forward, but still the boy did not turn. It wasn’t until Robby and I walked right up to him that he noticed we were there. His big blue eyes danced from side to side.

            “Hello,” I said gently.

            “Who are you? Where do you live? Do you have parents? Why are you staying with the mean Stanleys? Did they kidnap you for money?” Robby rambled off question after question.

            “Not so fast!” I exclaimed. The boy just sat there. He looked petrified. And he wouldn’t say a word. No matter how much I told him that we were trying to be his friends, he wouldn’t make a sound. I had just about given up, when a voice rang out that sent chills down my spine.

            “You two! You two!” I turned to see Floretta shouting in the office doorway. The boy shot up. Robby and I frantically warned him

            “Run! Run! Get away from here!” We cried, nudging him. The boy looked as if he might cry. He started to run. Run yes; right into the arms of Mrs. Stanley herself! Robby and I stood dumbfounded as Floretta embraced the little boy and shooed him inside.

            “You ought to be ashamed! Ashamed!” she hollered at us, slamming the office door shut. I sunk into the fort. This was too much for my brain to handle. I was utterly confused.

            Just then, Apartment E’s door flew open and Mom and Dad stepped out, luggage and all. I sighed as Dad piled the suitcases into the station wagon. It was already time to go? Here I had been, wishing all week that we could go to Clarksville, and now I was wishing we could stay a little longer.

            “I’m going to return the key to Mr. Stanley and we’ll be ready!” Dad called. Robby and I got out of our snow fort, and walked over to the car. Dad was just about to open the office door when Mr. Stanley came out. He grabbed the key from Dad’s hand and said,

            “Good! You’re leaving. You’re children ought to be ashamed of themselves,” he exclaimed. “Teasing handicapped children…” he muttered. I gasped. I ran over to where Dad and Mr. Stanley were standing. Mrs. Stanley and the little boy stood in the office doorway.

            “Yes,” Floretta snapped. “I saw how you yelled at him.”

            “Will someone explain what is going on here?” Dad asked, his eyes wide. Oops. I forgot to tell him about this.

            “You mean you’re not kidnappers?” I asked. Mr. Stanley’s eyes grew wide.

            “Kidnappers! Why did you think that?!” he asked.

            “My brother and I just thought…that…well we saw…” I stumbled for the right words. “Who is he?” I finally asked, glancing at the little boy.

            “This is our son, Benjamin, or Benny as we call him,” Mr. Stanley said, motioning for the boy to come closer. “He’s deaf.” I gasped. No wonder the boy had looked so frightened when Robby and I yelled for him to run!

            “Oh!” I exclaimed. “But why did you tell us, Mrs. Stanley that there were no children around?” I asked. Floretta stepped forward.

            “Oh…that. Well, usually all the children that stay here at the motel make fun of Benny,” she replied. She ran her fingers through his messy hair. “It would really hurt Benny’s feelings. They would tease him nonstop, so I kept him indoors a lot. When you asked if there were any children, I became suspicious, I guess. I’m sorry,” she said, toeing at the pavement with her shoe. Robby ran over from the station wagon.

            “So, Benny can’t hear?” he asked. Mrs. Stanley nodded her head.

            “We use sign language to talk to him,” she replied. I smiled at Benny. He smiled back. And there was suddenly a feeling of understanding all around. The Stanleys were no villains, and it was all just a misunderstanding. A wave of relief came over me.

            “Well, we should probably get going,” my dad said, clearly still confused. I laughed.

            “I hope you will come again!” Mr. Stanley called as we got into the car. “And you can play with Benny.” I hopped into the backseat and shut the door. We were finally on or way, ready to have a great Christmas with Grandma and Grandpa. It had been an exciting few days, and best of all, we had met a new friend. Suddenly, I knew what we could do to make this Christmas even better. Robby glanced at me. Were we thinking the same thing? I grinned and hopped out of the car. Opening the trunk, we pulled out Ol’ Blue. We lifted him out, and handed him to Benny. His eyes were wide, and a smile spread across his freckled face. He did something with his hands, which I assumed was ‘thank you’.

            “Merry Christmas!” we exclaimed, getting back into the car. I think I saw Mrs. Stanley dab her eyes as we pulled away in the car. But I couldn’t be sure. As the station wagon sped off down the road, I leaned back in my seat. This truly had been a perfect, snowy Christmas. This year I had been especially thankful for the snow. Not only were we able to have fun in it, but because of it, we met a brand-new friend. I couldn’t wait till next year, when we might have a chance to visit Benny again. I wonder if the roads will be un-plowed next year? J

           

                                                                   The End

Thanks everyone for you encouragement and all the wonderful comments I received about this story. They are all very, very much appreciated!!!

Love,

Kathryn :-D

           

           

A Snowy Christmas, Part 5

After Mom paid for the groceries, we hopped into the car. We stopped in front of an old, white farmhouse, and waited for Dad to appear. The front door opened and Dad thanked the man. He walked across the snowy yard and opened the car door.

            “Well?” Mom asked, anxiously. “Will he plow the road?” We all knew the answer when we saw Dad’s face.

            “Nope, it’s broken,” he sighed. “There are only two people who have plows in the area, and his is broken.” Mom shifted gears and drove on down the road. We pulled into the parking lot of Stanley Motel and parked the station wagon. As quick as a flash, Robby and I were outta that car and racing over to the fort. I was just about to make a flying leap to the inside of the fort, when something caught my eye. I skidded to the pavement, pulling Robby down with me.

            “Hey!” he cried. “Why did you do that?” I stood up and brushed some snow of my coat.

            “Look!” Sure enough, solid boot prints were all around and inside the fort. They were small, and had a distinct print of a star.

            “These weren’t here when we left,” I said. Robby’s mouth dropped open. Just to double-check, we looked at the bottom of our boots to see the prints. Neither pairs matched.

            “There about the size of my foot,” Robby said, sizing his boot up with the mysterious prints.

            “Robby, I bet that boy was out here,” I said.

            “Oh, yah!” Robby exclaimed. “That explains it.”

            “No it doesn’t,” I said, sitting down. “It just makes everything more confusing. We figured the strange boy had been kidnapped. If that’s true, which I now doubt, why didn’t he just run away?”

            “Huh?”

            “Robby, if you had been kidnapped, and you managed to escape, would you stop to play in a snow fort?” Robby shook his head.

            “Duh! Then, who is he? And what is he hiding?”

            “You mean what are the Stanley’s hiding,” I said.

                                                                        ***

           

It had been 3 days since we had left for Clarksville. I was beginning to get a little uneasy. Would we reach Grandma and Grandpa’s house in time for Christmas? There was a mystery to solve and road to plow and I couldn’t do either one. I felt helpless.

            It was the next day, and Robby and I were in the living room discussing Christmas. Would we have to spend it here?

            “Some Christmas here,” Robby snorted. “Not tree, no food, no presents.”

            “At least we have each other,” I said, trying to sound like Mom.

            “But how will Grandma and Grandpa feel if they have to spend Christmas alone?” he asked. I shrugged my shoulders.

            “There’s still a chance,” I said. I got up from the couch, and walked out the front door. Robby followed. We walked up and down the sidewalk, enjoying the crisp, December wind. We reached the office door. I paused. If we were going to ever figure out what was going on, we needed to investigate. I smiled. There was no black sedan parked as usual. Perfect.

            I grabbed Robby’s hand and yanked open the office door.

            “Yoo-hoo, Mr. Stanley!” I called. Silence. I shut the door. The office was in its usual disarray; papers and files exploding from every drawer. I walked past the oak desk and rapped lightly on the apartment door. When there was no answer, I turned the golden doorknob and squeaked open the door. Robby cautiously followed me into the apartment. The living space was small and crowded. There was a couch and a small table behind it. There were two bedrooms off the living area. I walked past the floral couch and into the first bedroom. It was plain, with a small bed and dresser. Nothing strange here. I opened the closet door. Ah-hah! A few small shirts were hung in the closet. Proof. There was a little boy here. I was about to shut the closet door, when I noticed there was a small puddle of water on the floor of the closet. I knelt down. Sure enough, a stream of cold water flowed from a pair of small boots, just recently brought in from the snow.

            “Hey, Robby! Look at this,” I exclaimed. He knelt down beside me on the floor. I lifted one of the dark blue boots and turned it over. Chills went up my spine as I saw the same five-pointed star we had seen in the snow earlier. Questions whizzed through my head. Who is he and why is he hiding? Why did Floretta say there were no children around when there was one in her very apartment?

            Suddenly, I thought I heard a voice. I gripped Robby’s arm and listened. Sure enough, a man’s voice could barely be heard. I shot off of the floor and ran out of the room. To my horror, the knob on the front door was slowing turning. I looked frantically for a way to escape. But there was nowhere. Panicking, I opened the hallway closet door and dove into the darkness. Robby followed closely behind, shutting the door just in time. For a second, neither of us dared to breathe. I didn’t even bother to move the point of the umbrella that was embedding into the side of my head. We heard the front door open, and we could now here the voices clearly.

            “Make sure you take your boots off,” Floretta said. “I just mopped in here a few days ago. And here, give him his coat.” I looked at Robby, although it was too dark to see his face. The ‘him’ must be the boy! We listened carefully. But there was nothing. The place fell into an eerie silence and the only noise heard was Robby’s breathing.  I reached for the handle of the closet door. Turning it, I pushed open the door ever so slightly and peeked through the crack. Seeing nothing, I opened it farther. The bedroom door was shut, and I knew they were in the apartment. Robby and I dashed out of the closet and through the front door. It wasn’t until we had gone out of the office and reached apartment E that we finally relaxed. We burst through the front door.

A Snow Christmas, Part 4

Without a word to Robby, I shot around the corner of the motel and around front. He followed behind, spilling and sloshing the hot chocolates.

            “Kalin! Now where are you going?” he sighed. I gave a firm rap on the office door. Mrs. Stanley opened the door.

            “Well?” she asked, sharply.

            “You’re Mrs. Stanley, right?” She narrowed her eyes.

            “And what of it?”

            “I just thought you would know if they are any children around here. My brother and I get pretty bored, and we wondered if there was anyone to play with,” I replied.

            “There’s not kids except you ‘round here,” she said, slamming the door. I would have been offended, but I was getting used to the door slamming in my face.

            “Why would she say that when there’s a little boy in their apartment?” Robby broke my thoughts.

            “That’s what I’m wondering,” I said, sitting down a bench near the office door. Robby sat down next to me and handed me my lukewarm chocolate. I began to take a sip. The light steam rose from the liquid as I sipped it.

            Ahuhuhuhuh! I coughed. Robby looked at me.

            “Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded my head, trying to catch my breath. I wanted to tell him the reason I choked on my hot chocolate was because I had just thought of a terrible thing. I gasped for breath.

            “Robby! Do you think-“ I stopped.

            “What?”

            “Could it be-“

            “What?”

            “Surely not-“

            “You doing this on purpose.” I glared at him.

            “Robby, do you think the Stanley’s have kidnapped that little boy?” I asked, fear rising in me every second.

            “They wouldn’t…” Robby’s voice trailed off. “Would they?” The words echoed in our ears and pounded in our heads.

            “But why?” Robby asked.

            “For money, probably,” I replied. “Robby, what are we going to do?”

            “Help that boy,” Robby said, standing up. I stood up too.

            “You’re right. We’ve got to help him get away from these awful people.”

                                         ***

I just barely opened my eyes and lifted my head. Sure enough, Mom and Dad had stopped watching TV and under the crack of my door, I could see that their bedroom light was off. Perfect timing.

            I took off my PJ’s. I had slipped them on over my clothes. I strapped on my shoes, and grabbed my flashlight. I winced as I squeaked open the door. I looked both ways, and went into the living room. It was pitch black. I didn’t dare turn on my flashlight. I just knew if I wondered around the living room, I was bound to run into Robby, who was supposed to be waiting for me, and we’d scare each other half to death. So, I stood still, in the thick darkness. The clocked threatened to drive me crazy. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Suddenly, I was blinded by a bright fluorescent gleam; otherwise known as the kitchen light. I watched in horror as Robby entered and sat down in a kitchen chair. I ran to the light switch and flipped it off.

            “What do you think you’re doing?” I half-whispered.

            “Turning on some light so I can put my socks on,” he replied, nonchalantly. Brothers.

            “Do you not understand that we’re trying to be quiet and not wake anyone up?” I couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but I was pretty sure what it looked like.

            “Huh?” he asked. I sighed. I turned my flashlight on dim so he could put on his socks. The clock stroked midnight when we finally headed quietly out the back door. We crunched through the snow as the bright stars and moon shined down.

            “Ok, so here’s the plan,” I whispered. “We tap on the boy’s window, and he’ll open it, and we can help him escape.”

            “If he could open the window, he would have escaped along time ago.” Leave it to a smart brother to ruin your perfect plan. I turned around.

            “You’re right,” I frowned. “ But let’s try anyway.”

            We passed all the other apartments, and finally came to the last window. Through the faint moonlight, we could see a blue curtain. I reached up towards the window, and tapped on the glass. Nothing happened. I tried again, a little louder. Finally, I tapped once more, but there was no sign of anyone.

            “Now what?” I asked Robby. “Why won’t he come to the window?”

            “Maybe he’s a heavy sleeper,” Robby yawned. “There’s nothing we can do now, so how ‘bout going back to bed?” Reluctantly, I followed Robby back to our apartment.

                                                           

                                        ***

            Bright and early the next morning, I hopped out of bed and threw open the shade. A blanket of fresh, white snow had covered the dirty layer that had lay there before. I smiled and raced into the living room just as Robby was heading out the front door.

            “Oh, no you don’t,” I exclaimed, seeing his heavy coat and boots. “Not without me, you don’t!”

            “Oh, but Kalin! It’s a brand-new layer of snow!” he whined. I laughed and sat down at the kitchen table. We loved a new layer of snow. But, I’m sure Dad didn’t like it. The roads still weren’t plowed, and he wasn’t too happy.

            “We may have to go out there with a shovel and scrape our way to Clarksville!” he would say.

            I poured a glass of milk as mom came into the room.

            “I’m going to go to the grocery store this morning,” she said. “But, your dad is going to talk to someone who owns a plow around here, so you two will have to come with me.” Robby shot me a glance.

            “But Mom, we were going to play in the snow fort,” he said.

            “It won’t take long,” she said. And so, we piled in the car after breakfast. We skidded by our snow fort on the way out of the parking lot. Not a single mark was on the newly fallen snow.

            We dropped Dad off at a nearby farmer’s house, to talk about the man’s snowplow. We continued down the slick road, to Mr. Haber’s General Store. Once inside, Mom did her shopping while Robby and I sat on a bench near the front door. We got quite used to the loud clang of the bell above the door whenever customers came in. Or the chi-ching! of the cash register on the counter. Robby and I decided to take a look around the store while Mom shopped. There was a small toy section, and we browsed the things on the shelves.

            “Hey, look here!” Robby let out a low whistle. He pointed to a large red box on the shelf. The box had bold letters that said,

           

    Giant Sled

        Fast speed and a cool red color

           

            “It’s neat,” I admitted. “But it’s nothing compared to Ol’ blue,” I said, referring to our beloved sled. Robby nodded his head.

            “I wouldn’t trade Blue for any newer sled,” he replied. I agreed. Ol’ Blue was the best sled ever. I could remember the happy days when we were younger, racing Ol’ Blue down the tiny hill in our backyard. Blue had memories attached to him, and we weren’t about to give it up for some new one.

            The cash register rang out again, and Mom’s voice called out.

            “You two ready?” I grinned at Robby. The fort was waiting. It wouldn’t be long now.  

P.S. I think I finally figured out my new template!! Do you guys like it? Have a great day!
~Kathryn :-)

A Snowy Christmas, Part 3

We left Mr. Stanley in his quiet office, and went back into the snow. We sank down in our fort.

            “Why is everyone around here so grouchy?” Robby sighed. I shrugged my shoulders.

            “I don’t know, Robby. There’s something strange about Mr. Stanley. Very strange,” I said.

Suddenly, the same black sedan drove into the slick parking lot. It parked in the exact spot that it was in earlier.

The lady got out carrying two bags of groceries. Robby and I watched as she pounded on the office door with her foot. The door squeaked open, and Mr. Stanley let her in.

            “The rest is in the back,” she told him. Mr. Stanley headed to the sedan and opened the trunk. He grabbed three bags.

            “Floretta? Come shut the trunk lid,” he called. I looked at Robby, who was bending down behind the fort walls. The look on his face told me that he was thinking the same thing I was. Floretta?

            The lady mumbled and came out and shut the trunk lid. They went into the office and shut the door.

            “Whose Floretta?” Robby asked.

            “Robby, I think she’s Mrs. Stanley.”

            “What? Mr. Stanley isn’t married,” he said.

            “Who said? Did he tell you that? I think he is,” I said.

            “I guess it’s possible,” Robby said, scratching his head. I smiled.

            “I bet Floretta does cleaning for the people who stay here,” I said. “She probably was taking out all the laundry when we saw her,”

            “Hey, that means in one of the apartments, there’s a little boy,” Robby said. “I don’t think that orange shirt would fit Mr. Stanley,” he giggled. I laughed.

            “You’re probably right. I-“ I was interrupted by the squeaky office door. Mr. and Mrs. Stanley walked toward the sedan again.

            “The groceries are in the back,” she said. Mr. Stanley opened the trunk again, and lifted out large brown grocery bags. He headed for the door. Suddenly, his foot slipped on a patch of ice. I shut my eyes as I heard him land on the pavement. Plunk! Food cans and boxes spilled out everywhere. The cans rolled under the sedan and boxes landed in the snow along the parking lot.

            “Ben!” Floretta stood in the doorway of the office. “You’re getting the groceries wet!” she cried. She ran and started gathering the things. Robby and I jumped up from the fort and chased after some cans that had rolled away. We grabbed them, and handed them to Floretta. She snatched them and stuffed them back into the bag without saying a word. Mr. Stanley stood up. He took the stack of boxes that Robby had picked up. Muttering, they both went back inside the office and slammed the door shut.

            “Well, how do you like that? We chase their canned vegetables and fruit all around the parking lot and not a word of thanks!” I exclaimed.

            “There was an awful lot of groceries,” Robby said. I looked at him.

            “There was, wasn’t there,” I said. Why would a couple buy so much food?

            “Maybe she does shopping for the people staying here, too,” Robby suggested. I nodded my head. But something told me that wasn’t it. And I was determined to find out what was.

                                                            ***

            “Regular, vanilla, peppermint, or raspberry,” Mom said, showing us the hot chocolate flavors. I took off my hat.

            “Definitely regular,” I said.

            “What? Why go regular when you can get awesome flavors?” Robby asked, picking up a cup of peppermint. I ignored him and sat down at the kitchen table. We had just stepped in to warm our insides with a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

            “Hey, mom?” I asked. She looked up from the cup of tea she was making for herself.

            “Mmm?”

            “Did a lady stop by for laundry or groceries?”

            “No, dear,” she replied, sipping her steaming tea. Robby shot me a glance. I grabbed his arm and pulled him out of his chair.  

            “Come on, Robby,” I said, giving him a look. “Let’s take our drinks outside.” He looked at me funny, but followed me out the front door and into the bitter wind.

            “It’s cold out here,” he complained. “What’s the matter?”

            “Robby, I’ve had enough of this strange things around here. We’re going to find out what’s going on right now!” I was a little surprised by my tone of voice. I guess Robby was too, from the look on his face.

            “Excuse me for asking, Mrs. Sherlock, but what exactly are you planning to do?” he asked.

            “Follow me, Doc,” I headed briskly down the frosty sidewalk towards the office. I rounded the corner into the grass.

            “Where are you going?” Robby asked, trying to balance his hot chocolate.

            “To the back of the office where that apartment is,” I replied. “Surely there’s some windows.”

            “Oh no.” Was Robby’s pleading reply. “You’re not going to peek in window’s, are you?” I said nothing. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought him along.

            On the backside of the motel, were overgrown bushes that now were covered in snow. I spotted a window that just had to belong to the small apartment. Setting my precious, warm drink in Robby’s other hand, I stood on my very tip-toes so I could see through the window. There were clouds in the sky, and it made it hard to see in. My eyes slowly adjusted, and I saw a small room. There was a dresser, a bed, and a braided rug on the floor. I gasped. A small boy of about Robby’s age was on the floor, playing with a truck. I sunk to the grass as he turned towards the window.

            “Robby!” I whispered. He bent down next to me.

            “There’s a boy in there,” I exclaimed. Robby looked puzzled.

            “I haven’t seen any children around,” he said. Okay. So now, I was completely and utterly confused. What was going on around here?

A Snowy Christmas, Part 2

The building was long, and very narrow. There were doors all along the front. On the end, was a door that had a sign. It said, ‘Office’. Dad opened the screen door, and then the white wooden door. We walked into the tiny office. There was a desk, with papers and envelopes and just general junk covering the top. A filing cabinet stood beside it. One of the drawers was open, and papers exploded out of that, too. I could tell this was going to be a very interesting stay.

A door behind the desk flew open. A middle-aged man stepped out. His hair was a mess. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. A gold watch dangled from his vest pocket.

“You want an apartment?” he asked, gruffly. He narrowed his eyes when he saw me and Robby.

“Yes, we would. We’re on our way to Clarksville, but the roads aren’t plowed,” Dad replied. The man nodded. Dad paid him, and the man opened a desk drawer. He lifted out a pile of papers, some scissors, and other things. He mumbled to himself. Finally he found what he was looking for. He handed Dad a key, and told him it was five doors down.

“Thank you,” Dad said. We left the office, and walked down the sidewalk, past all the other apartments. We reached ours, which was apartment E. Dad unlocked the door, and we stepped inside. It was cozy, and definitely small. There was a fireplace, and a couch with matching chairs. There was a kitchen, which mom was pleased with.

“It’s dated, but it works,” she said. Down a small hallway, were two bedrooms. Behind the kitchen, was a small room with a folding couch and a TV.

            We unpacked our things, and headed sleepily to bed. Mom and Dad took one room, me in the other, and Robby chose the folding couch.

           

Later that night, I lay awake in my bed. I sighed and snuggled down deeper in my covers. We would have been at Grandma and Grandpa’s house by now. In fact, I probably would have been enjoying a nice thick, juicy piece of pie at this very moment. I stared at the ceiling. Now, we were stuck in some motel out in the middle of nowhere. I really hoped they would plow the roads before Christmas. I snickered. I couldn’t imagine having Christmas in a place like this. It almost seemed humorous. Almost.

                                                            ***

            It was the distinct smell of Mom’s peppermint coffee that I woke up to the next day. I was used to it, since Mom made it almost every day during the winter months. I got up and put on my robe. I walked into the kitchen, where Dad was talking on the telephone.

“Yes,” he said, speaking into the receiver. “All right. Thank you.” He hung up.

            “Who was that, Dad?” I asked, turning the morning news on the radio.

            “Mr. Haber. He’s the man who owns that general store,” he replied. “I called him to ask about the roads. He still doesn’t know when they will be plowed.”

            “Maybe if the sun comes out today, the snow will melt a little and we can get through,” Mom said, hopefully.

            Suddenly, the morning weather forecast blared through the kitchen. 

            “Cloudy skies, 30 degree temperature, and 40% chance of snow,” said the announcer. Dad sighed.

            “There goes that.”

            Robby staggered into the kitchen wearing his usual morning attire; wrinkled pajamas, messy hair, and an “I am so not awake, yet,” look on his face.

            “Morning, bud,” Mom said, handing him a box of cereal. He poured it into a bowl with some milk.

            “You sleep well?” I asked. Robby nodded his head.

            “That folding thing is pretty soft,” he yawned. “Except I fell off of it a few times.” I laughed.

            “How’d you manage that?”

            “I think I was dreaming that we were sledding at Grandma and Grandpa’s,” he replied.

            “Speaking of sledding, are there any good hills around here?” I asked. If we were going to be stuck in the snow, we might as well make the best of it.

            “I have no idea,” Dad said. “Why don’t you ask Mr. Stanley, the motel owner?”

            “Mr. Stanley?” Robby and I glanced at each other. Neither of us really had the desire to talk to him. But, our great want to go sledding got the best of us, and right after breakfast, we went over to the office. When we walked in, Mr. Stanley was not there. The door behind the desk was open, and it appeared to be an apartment. A lady in a pale blue dress and messy bun was in the apartment, scrubbing the floors. I walked to the doorway.

            “Excuse me, are you the cleaning woman? My brother and I are looking for Mr. Stanley. Do you know where he is?” I asked. The lady looked up. She narrowed her eyes.

            “Why do you want him?” she asked.

            “We want to ask him a question,” I replied. She started scrubbing again.

            “He ain’t here.” I was starting to get annoyed.

            “But do you know where he is?”

            “Look, I’m busy and I don’t got no time to be chatting!” She slammed the door shut. I just stood with my mouth open. Robby gasped.

            “That wasn’t very nice,” he said.

            “I’ll say! Come on, let’s go.” We left the office and headed toward our apartment. Suddenly, a black sedan skidded into the parking lot. It parked in the space in front of the office. The engine turned off and Mr. Stanley stepped out. We ran up to him.

            “Mr. Stanley!” He stopped and turned.

            “What?” he asked, gruffly.

            “Your cleaning maid wasn’t very nice to us,” Robby blurted out. Mr. Stanley looked puzzled. Then he laughed.

            “We don’t have a cleaning maid,” he said. I frowned.

            “Then who was the lady cleaning the floors in the apartment behind the office?” I asked. Mr. Stanley’s face turned from a laugh to snarl.

            “What were you doing back there?” he asked. Before I could answer, he dashed into the office. Robby and I stood there, dumbfounded.

            “Well, we got him to laugh,” Robby smiled. I just stared at the office door. Why was Mr. Stanley so concerned that we were in that apartment? And who was the lady?

            “Robby, I think we need to watch Mr. Benjamin Stanley. He’s hiding something, and I intend to find out what it is,” I said. Robby grinned.

            “Me too,” he agreed.

                                                                     ***

“Ouch!” I got bombarded with snowballs. Whack! One hit me right in the face. I wiped away the snow and glared at Robby.

            “Now you’re going to get it!” I grabbed a huge handful of snow and launched in into the air. Sure enough, it landed right on top of Robby’s head.

            We were in the middle of a snowball fight. It seemed like it was the only thing we could do around here. We had built a fort, out of snow and ice. It had walls, and a neat entrance. Right now, Robby was safely behind the fort throwing snowballs at me every five seconds. I had no idea how he could make them so fast.

            I was about to send him a whopper of a snowball, when the strange lady came out of the office. She was carrying laundry, probably to take to the nearest Laundromat. She went to the black sedan, and put the bags of laundry in the back. An orange shirt fell out into the snow. She picked it up. It was a child’s shirt. I thought that was kind of strange. I hadn’t seen any children around here.

            The lady got in the car and drove away. I suggested to Robby that we go ask Mr. Stanley our question. He agreed and we walked into the office. Mr. Stanley was at his desk, writing on a piece of paper. After standing there for a few seconds, I cleared my throat to get him to look up.

            “What do you kids want?” he asked, sounding very annoyed.

            “We were wondering if there were any good sledding hills around here,” I said. Mr. Stanley looked up.

            “I haven’t been sledding since I was 10 years old. How should I know?” He exclaimed. Frankly, I was a little surprised. I just stood there.

            “Well, I mean, you live here and-“

            “I have no idea,” was all he would say. I shrugged my shoulders. We would just have to find a hill ourselves.

 

A Snowy Christmas

Okay. I know this is a Christmas story. But look, wouldn't you rather read it in Feb., than in April or something? So I decided I would get this one out of the way, and then do some other ones. This one is also the most recent story I've written (but I'm currently working on another mystery :-). So, here goes!

         A Snowy Christmas

                                                                                                                             Kathryn Henry

                                                                                                                                                                             2011

I smacked the beeping alarm clock. Why did it have to be morning already? Then, I suddenly remembered. I opened my eyes and jumped out of bed. Sure enough, the late night forecast had been right. Tiny snowflakes fell to the ground outside my window. I gave a leap of joy.

“Kalin! Breakfast!” I threw on my robe and bounded down the stairs. I ran into the kitchen and plopped into a chair.

“Did you see the-“

“Snow. Yah, we saw it,” Robby, my ten year-old brother finished. I shot him a look.

“Has it snowed up where Grandma and Grandpa are?” I asked, pouring a glass of milk.

“Yes, there’s quite a lot of snow,” Dad answered. “I just hope we can get there without any trouble.”

We were spending Christmas with my dad’s parents, who lived about six hours away. Maybe it would be a white Christmas!

“Cool,” Robby exclaimed. “Maybe we can build a snowman!”

“What time to we leave, Dad?” I asked. I waited as he sipped his coffee and put down his paper.

“As soon as we clean up breakfast, grab the suitcases, and warm up the car,” he smiled, tugging on a strand of my messy brown hair.

“Make way,” Mom said, setting a pan of bacon and a bowl of perfectly cooked eggs on the table. Robby grabbed a piece of bacon and tossed it onto his plate.

“Got any ketchup?” All eyes landed on him.

“On bacon?” we cried. He looked around.

“What?” he asked. “It’s good!” I rolled my eyes. Typical ten year-old brother. Always smothering something in ketchup.

After the dishes had been cleared, I headed up to my room. I threw on a dress, some socks, and grabbed my coat out of the closet. I brushed my hair and slipped on my shoes. I looked at the calendar that hung on my bedroom wall. Only one more week till Christmas. It would be great to see Grandma and Grandpa again. And to be able to spend an entire week with them!

I looked around the room, trying to think of anything I might have forgotten while packing yesterday. I ran through a mental checklist. Nope, I hadn’t forgotten anything. I grabbed my hat and gloves from my dresser. I looked at the calendar again. There was a picture of two kids sledding down a hill. Sledding. The word seemed to stand out in my mind. Sledding. Then it hit me like a bucket of ice. Duh! The sled! How could I forget such an important thing?

“Come on, Kalin!” Mom called from downstairs. I grabbed my two suitcases and headed out the door.

“Coming!” I called. I struggled all the way down the stairs, feeling like I weighed 200 pounds with my fluffy coat and overstuffed suitcases. I followed Mom out to the station wagon. Dad was in the driver’s seat, with Robby on his lap. They honked the horn.

“Come on, slow pokes!” Robby laughed. I piled my suitcases with the rest in the trunk.

“I forgot the sled,” I said. “I’ll go around and get it.” I trudged around the side of the house, and to the shed. I opened the rusty door and looked inside. Somewhere beneath all this stuff, was a blue sled. Somewhere. I sighed and started digging. I went through tons and tons of junk. Of course at the very bottom, I found the sled. It lay there, probably untouched since last winter. I grabbed it and threw everything else back in. I squeezed the door shut just as the Dad honked the car horn. I raced around front.

 After stuffing the sled in the trunk, Robby and I climbed into the backseat.

“Do we have everything?” Dad asked. There was a loud chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘yup’ and ‘I hope so’. Dad smiled.

“All righty. Well, thank you for coming aboard. We hope to make this a very comfortable trip, a trip where you can relax and forget about all your worries. If you have any questions, concerns, or comments, please speak now.” Mom rolled her eyes.

“All right, no questions, so lets go! Oh, and please do not exit until the ride has come to a complete stop. Thank you.” Robby exploded with laughter. Dad must of thought it was pretty funny too, because he was laughing just as loud.

And we were off! Dad drove, Mom held the maps, and Robby held the snacks. Typical. I stared out the window. In six hours, we would be at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I could just see it now. The Christmas tree, the garlands, the lights. And oh, Grandma’s famous pies. The perfect thing on a cold winter night, sitting by the fire.

“Kalin! Kalin Johnson!” Robby shook me. “Wake up!”

“Huh?” I asked, turning away from the window.

“Want some crackers?” he asked, handing me the box. I reached in and grabbed a handful.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked, taking back the box.

“Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and all the decorations. I can’t wait!”

“And the food!” he added, with a mouth full of crackers.

“Robby, you are always thinking about food,” I laughed.

                                                ***

I lifted my head, sleepily. I looked out the car window and into the fields of snow. We had been riding in the car practically all day. But we were getting close. It was exactly one hour till we would reach Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I looked down on the slick road. There was melted snow and a little ice. I couldn’t wait to jump in the snow at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I could just see the snowman that Robby and I would make. Or us sledding down the big hill.

Dad had decided to take all the back, country roads. He wanted to see all the scenery. So, for 5 hours, we had seen field after field after field. And an occasional small, country town. So much for the ‘educational opportunities’ of the country, Dad had been talking about.

           

                                                ***

It was beginning to get dark when it happened. Dad slammed on the brakes. On the road ahead of us, was a thick sheet of freshly fallen snow. It must have been a foot and a half tall. Mom turned to Dad.

“What should we do? This road hasn’t been plowed,” she said. Dad thought for a minute.

“Let’s ask if there’s another road leading to Clarksville,” he said.

He backed up the station wagon, and turned around in someone’s driveway. We headed back to the old town we had recently passed. It was really starting to get dark. Dad pulled into the general store parking lot.

“Dad, can I go in, too?” I asked. He nodded his head and I followed him inside. It was a tiny place, with racks of flour, sugar, and other things. There was a wooden counter, and an old man behind it.

“Can I help ya?” he asked.

“Yes,” Dad replied. “Do you know when the roads will be plowed?”

“Not for a few days, I reckon,” he said.

“A few days! Why so late?” Dad exclaimed.

“Only a few people ‘round here parts own themselves a plow,” he said, calmly.

“Well, we need to get to Clarksville,” Dad said. “We were hoping to get there by tonight,”

“Well, the main road won’t take ya there,” the man said. “It wraps around to Kingston. I’m afraid the only road that’ll take straight to Clarksville is the road by ol’ Jeffery’s place.” I could tell that Dad looked a little annoyed.

“Where is Jeffery’s place?” he asked.

“Ol’ Jeff’s got a barn that has an ad for Carnation Milk on it,” he replied. Dad looked solemnly at me.

“That’s the road we were on,” he said. “It’s not plowed.” Dad sighed. “Are there any hotels around here?” I gasped.

“Stay at a hotel?”

“There’s no other option,” he said. “We’ll just have to wait until the road gets plowed,”

“No hotels, but there’s a motel down the street a ways. Called Stanley Motel,” the old man said. Dad thanked him and we left the store.

After explaining to Mom and Robby, we headed down the road to find the motel. We finally spotted the old place. It was small, and frankly, a little run-down. But then, what wasn’t, in this old town?

Dad pulled in and parked. The moon shined down. I hopped out of the station wagon, landing with a crunch on the snow.