Christmas Spirit

From high above the earth’s surface, a Bald Eagle surfed the air currents without needing to exert much energy. It mimicked the movements of a navy-blue sedan that hugged the corners of a winding road. The road was surrounded by dense forest, filled with large pine, fir, and spruce trees. In the far distance behind the eagle was a bustling city where a thick, gray smog hovered above. Inside what appeared to be a toy-sized car was a family, completely unaware of the eagle watching them. The eagle dove toward the earth like a missile, its feathers fluttering violently. It scraped the surface of a river running parallel to the wavy highway, snatching a fish from beneath the rippling water.

“Whoa, did you see that, Mom?” Trisha asked, her mouth agape with excitement, playing with her blonde ponytail. “You don’t see that in the city.”

Cindy—Trisha and Brian’s mother—turned down the music playing on the radio. The bangs from her dirty-blonde, shoulder-length, blunt hairstyle covered her left eye. She pulled the hair out of her eye and glanced in the rear-view mirror for only a second before locking her eyes back on the road. “Honey, I’m sorry, but I missed it because I need to keep my eyes on the road. This isn’t the safest highway.”

Brian was resting his cheek in his palm, propping his head up while staring out the passenger side window. His eyes were becoming heavy from watching tree after tree fly by, blending together into one as his eyesight became unfocused. “Want us to get into a car wreck, Trisha?”

Each sharp turn pulled Brian’s body to the edge of his seat due to the road’s incline and the g-force from the car’s speed. His stomach tumbled, its contents rising up to his throat. “I’m not feeling so good, Mom. How much longer?”

“We’ve got about a half-hour. . .I think,” Cindy said, pushing her black-rimmed, square eyeglasses up the bridge of her nose, squinting at the digital map on the car’s ten-inch display. “I don’t see Niahmas on the dang map, but we’re about a half hour out based on your grandfather’s directions. I still can’t believe he finally invited us to see him after all these years.”

Brian sat upright and rolled down his window an inch. Ice-cold air poured into the car and sent a draft right down through his collar. The tapered sides of his head from the high and tight haircut he’s had since he was ten tingled from the whipping wind. His skin tightened and his body vibrated uncontrollably. As uncomfortable as he felt, his nausea retreated momentarily.

“Roll up your window, Brian! It’s freezing in here,” Trisha shouted.

“Why didn’t Grandpa ever invite us? I don’t remember you or Dad ever mentioning why.” Brian asked, ignoring his sister’s demand.

Cindy used the window control on the driver’s side to roll up Brian’s window. She pressed the lock button so that only she would have control of the windows. “Your grandfather is a sought after pastor when it comes to helping parishes with diminishing attendance. The church constantly moves him around, so he never has a chance to settle down. That’s why Grandpa visited us all the time.”

Brian pressed the down button for his window repeatedly, becoming slightly agitated that he couldn’t control it himself anymore. “Is that really the only reason, Mom? Are you sure there isn’t more to it?”

Everyone in the car were thrust forward as the car came to a screeching halt, tires squealing as they slid across the asphalt. Brian had his hands out in front of him, pressing against the dashboard to brace himself. The smell of burnt rubber entered the interior through the air vents. Brian looked at his mother with a concerned frown.

Cindy pointed to the road ahead of them with one eyebrow raised. “Did you see that, Brian? In the middle of the road.”

Brian looked out in the direction of his mother’s finger. The setting sun was at the same level as the mountain, casting light rays through the trees that looked like several hundred flashlights being pointed in different directions. He looked down the quarter mile of highway that veered off to the left before disappearing. He was expecting to see a deer or rabbit maybe, but there was nothing around but pines.

“I swear there was a little person running across the road as we just came around the bend,” Cindy said in astonishment.

“Mom, what would a kid be doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” Brian asked.

Trisha leaned forward between the seats and looked at them both with with her bright blue eyes and a smile. “I’m sure it was an elf, of course. They’re watching all year long.”

Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Sure, Trisha. Spying to see if you’re being a good girl, I suppose?” He immediately felt bad for teasing his eight-year-old sister. He knew she still believed in Santa, and didn’t want to be the one to ruin it for her.

“How else would Santa know?” Trisha asked sincerely.

“Well, I think that’s the road to Niahmas?” Cindy said, again pointing her finger.

There was an old street-sign that said Niahmas, twelve miles, barely visible behind a large fir. Beside it was an unimproved dirt and gravel road that disappeared in the darkness of the forest shade. “Can we even drive that far off-road in this car?” Brian asked.

Trisha reached out from the back seat and grabbed Cindy’s shoulder. “That’s kinda scary, Mom.”

As much as Brian agreed with his little sister, he wasn’t about to show it. “Oh, good grief, Trisha.”

“We’ll be fine, kids. Grandpa’s letter didn’t mention any difficulties getting to Niahmas,” Cindy said, turning the car down the unimproved road. “And to answer your question, Son, I honestly don’t know if there’s any more to it. He’s been acting stranger in his old age, but it really seemed to start when moving to this place. Of course, losing Grandma two years ago didn’t help any. Your dad might be able to shed more light on the situation if you’re that curious.”

Brian scoffed out loud. “Yeah, because I can talk to Dad about that when he’s thousands of miles away overseas, risking life and limb.”

The car shook from the bumpy road beneath the tires. The music on the radio began fading out and transitioned to static noise. “Brian, I thought you were older than that. You understand what a military career entails. You can’t hold that against him. Don’t forget that he’s. . .”

A plump trout smashed into the windshield without warning, cutting Cindy off from finishing her response. The glass in front of Brian had shattered in the shape of a giant bullseye splashed with the fish’s blood, yet did not manage to penetrate through. The car once again slid to a halt as Cindy slammed on the brake pedal.

“What the hell?” Cindy shouted. “Are you guys alright?”

The whole family sat silent for a moment, trying to comprehend what had happened. Brian’s nerves were being aggravated by the static on the radio, so he turned it off completely. He ran his fingers through the wavy hair on top of his head and scratched his scalp.

An eagle swooped in and landed on the hood, startling everyone. It picked up the trout with its beak, turned to look right at Brian, and then flew off as suddenly as it had appeared.

“What are the chances? I was hoping we could do some fishing up here,” he said, attempting to lighten the mood. No one laughed, but Cindy did crack a smile.

“At least I can still see out the windshield. Let’s just get to Grandpa’s house before we have any more incidents,” Cindy said.

Twelve miles along the winding road took much longer than any of them had expected. Brian just wanted to get out of the car because his nausea never fully dissipated. To his excitement, the dense forest was finally opening up to a small town. The sun was setting, so there was a red-orange tint to the sky that held back the darkness of night. They were reaching their destination just in time to get indoors while they could still see.

The first thing Brian noticed was that the buildings looked like primitive log cabins. There were absolutely no modern touches or decorations anywhere. The town was so dated there didn’t appear to be any electricity due to the lack of artificial light and electrical wires. There were no sidewalks, but he did notice a few elderly couples walking the dirt roads. One man was carrying a flaming torch that he was using to light lanterns hanging from wooden posts in front of each building.

“What is this place?” Trisha asked. Brian nodded his head because he was thinking the same thing.

“I don’t know exactly, but keep an eye on the address. We’re looking for building fourteen,” Cindy said.

Each building had a number carved into its wooden entrance. The simple numbers climbed from one as they made their way through town. The people that were outside all stared at them as they drove by staring right back.

Being used to his own neighborhood where homes were only a few feet apart from one another, Brian admired how the homes were far enough apart that they each had their own garden. Some even grew cops like building nine, which was separated from its neighbors by corn stalks. A creepy scarecrow made of straw and mangled tree branches was propped up in front of the stalks. There was no head, but rather a tattered, black pilgrim hat with a rope around the base of the crown in its place.

Pumpkins adorned the porches of the homes, many of which were carved jack-o-lanterns lit with candles. There were even a few yards with fenced in goats and pigs. The animals had expressions such as sneers and large smiles that were painted on.

Of all the questions Brian had, there was one that seemed more significant than the appearance of a town that hadn’t changed in over a hundred years and was expecting the arrival of Halloween. Why celebrate Halloween when Christmas was only one day away?