1
Winter was the only season we could be together. And now it’s gone. Oh, what wouldn’t I give to have a single snowflake drift down into my palm and know with unshakeable certainty that she’s still out there, albeit not with me but alive and well nonetheless. But now we don’t even have snow.
We met about fifteen years ago, around the Holiday Season. I remember clearly that Christmas was just around the corner and I was making some last-minute shopping. The streets were teeming with angry and flustered buyers that had decided December 23rd was still time enough to buy all the presents and wrap them as well. I was looking for some small stuff that would be essential for my parents’ and my celebration at home. Some candles and a tree-topper, since our last one had been destroyed by our cat on the previous Christmas. It wasn’t an ideal situation, being trapped among a raucous crowd and whatnot, but I still liked the spirit in the streets. Carols were being sung, snowmen were being built, storefronts were being lighted with colorful lights, and wreaths were being hung everywhere.
Still, as I made my way home, I decided to take a shortcut and cross the frozen lake, located behind the main town and just about five minutes from my house by foot. It would take me considerably less time to get back and I wouldn’t have to make my way through unruly throngs waiting on the streets. It was a win-win situation for me, so I didn’t hesitate.
There were carolers singing with a speakers in Music Park, and that’s what I remember the most from that day. As I made my way through the snow and onto the frozen lake, I could hear them clearly singing Carol of the Bells from the main stage in the park. Now I hear the song and get the chills. Maybe it’s because of that day’s experience, playing to its soundtrack, or maybe it’s because it sounds creepy. Guess I’ll never really know.
I reached the lake and put my foot on it, just to make sure the ice was sturdy enough. I didn’t hear a crack, so I put my whole weight on it and advanced. I took another step and waited, ready to spring back if it began to crack. It didn’t, so I continued, more confidently this time.
…sweet silver bells all seem to say throw cares away…
The music echoed in my ears as I hurried across the lake and to the other side. I suddenly heard footsteps to my right, but when I looked around, there was no one there. There were only trees, keeping guard above the lake. I continued walking.
…Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old…
I took another step and finally heard the crack I had waited for when I first stepped on the lake. I froze, trying to stay as still as possible, assessing my options. Maybe it didn’t mean nothing. I wasn’t yet halfway across. Maybe my safest bet would be to go back and take the streets instead. I stood there, pondering my options, when CRACK! went the ice again. I panicked and looked around.
Ding dong ding dong that is their song…
To my left, a stocky man was making his way toward me. He wore a balaclava and a Holiday cardigan featuring a reindeer with a red nose, the two styles clashing spectacularly. I heard another crack and looked to my right. Another man dressed exactly the same but with a snowman wrapped in colorful light extensions under the legend Snowy Holidays! was approaching. There was another one behind me and another one in front of me. I was surrounded.
…One seems to hear words of good cheer from everywhere…
I stood there, waving my hands frantically to tell them that the ice was breaking. Either they didn’t understand my gestures or they didn’t care. They reached me. Mr. Reindeer grabbed me by the lapels.
…Oh, how they pound, raising their sound, o’er hill and dale…
“You know, Jerry,” he said, looking at me. “I gotta give it to ya! I didn’t think anyone would be dull enough to take this road, but lookit here!”
“I told you, boss,” Mr. Snowman replied. “I-I-I fuckin’ told ya!”
“Yeah, well, no need to gloat now. This is the first one.” Then he addressed me. “What’s your name?” All the while, the song continued playing in another, very near and impossibly real reality.
…Gaily they ring while people sing songs of good cheer, Christmas is here…
“F-F-F-Fred,” I stammered. All of a sudden it was too cold. I felt numb all over, and couldn’t feel my face, which was exposed.
“Well, F-F-F-Fred,” Mr. Reindeer mocked me, “here’s how it’s gonna go: you will hand us your wallet and phone or we’ll beat the shit outta you. Understood?”
“Y-yes… Just one—”
“UNDERSTOOD?”
“Yes, but—”
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas…
“Understood?” Mr. Reindeer raised his fist menacingly, so I just nodded. I retrieved my wallet and phone. I was about to hand them to him when I heard a much louder crack. I looked down and noticed the first pronounced openings in the ice.
“I’ll give them to you if we get off this—” A fist cut my words mid-sentence, making my head swoon and the world swim in and out of focus. My phone and wallet were snatched from my hands and I was thrusted onto the ice, hard.
…Oh how they send, on without end, their joyful tone, to every home…
I felt a shoe on my face, crunching down and breaking my nose, then another fist on my forehead and another on my stomach. I could now taste coppery blood, and still I tried to convey my message between blows.
“The ice.” Punch. “It’s.” Wham. “About to.” Slam. “Break!”
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas!
Then I heard the loudest crack yet and the song stopped. I was immersed into ice-cold water, chilling me to the bone and lowering my body temperature drastically. I tried to gasp, but all I managed was to get a sizeable gulp of chilly water into my system. I saw other bodies struggling close to me, but I didn’t care about them. The important part was that I was about to die, and I was too cold to save myself. Also, being beaten to a pulp certainly didn’t help. At all. I stopped struggling and let myself be pushed down into the depths of the lake. I knew my time had come, and I didn’t fight it. I closed my eyes and let myself be engulfed by darkness. Chilly, chilly darkness.
I woke about an hour later. A pale woman was looking down at me, applying handfuls of snow to my face. I felt disoriented. My whole body felt on fire and cold at the same time. My face and my belly were numb. I muttered something unintelligible under my breath, and the woman smiled. Her teeth were a bit crooked and her eyes were the color of the depths of the lake. Her hair was braided and gold, seeming to glint even in the dark.
“Just rest for a moment. You’re really beat up,” she told me.
“What happened?” I managed.
“They beat you up. I think the frozen lake saved your life by breaking.”
“What happened after that?”
“Well,” she looked a bit embarrassed. “I might have intervened, even if it’s against the rules. I rescued you… and resealed the lake.”
I was intrigued by her words. “What do you mean, ‘against the rules’? Also, ‘resealed the lake’?” I sat up, making my whole body cry in pain, and beheld the lake, completely frozen again, without even the hint of a crack. “Oh, God,” I mumbled under my breath.
The woman pushed me back down. “Lie down. You’re in no condition to even sit!” she chastised me. Then she took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t be here. It’s certainly against the Council of Seasons and Mythical Creatures, but I took pity on you. So I intervened. I pulled you out of the lake and resealed it, leaving the other… men inside.” She offered the ghost of a smile.
“But… how could you get me out?” I asked as if that were the weirdest part of her confession. “It was frozen, surely your body can’t take that kind of temperature.”
“Freddy, I’m not human.” I regarded her, my mouth hanging. I noticed her clothes: a short, silk dress the color of thawed snow, and ballerina shoes. She evidently wasn’t affected by the cold. Again, my priorities seemed to be all wrong, since the part of the sentence that surprised me was that she knew my name. Not only that, but she also knew how my closest friends and family called me. Not Fred, but Freddy. Somehow, that made me feel alright.
She continued. She was the Spirit of Winter, and her name was Zimma. She appeared during winter only, no matter the place, but it had to be winter. She was omnipresent, being anywhere in the world where winter was happening, and leaving when everything thawed. She had the power to create ice and snow at will, and never felt cold. There was, she told me, one spirit per season, and they’d be pissed if they found out about her aiding a mortal human. They’d certainly take the matter to the Council of Seasons and they’d punish her. She didn’t say how, but judging by her face, I knew it’d be pretty bad.
After an hour of talking, she removed the snow from my face and I discovered that, even though still swollen, my nose wasn’t broken anymore. My stomach felt sore, but okay. I had some bruises, but they seemed to be fading already, as if they were a month old and not from mere hours before. Zimma stood up and offered her hand.
“The snow I put on you was altered to have healing properties, just so you know it doesn’t normally work like that.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I know. Hey, thank you so much. You didn’t have to help me today, but you did. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“Just take care of your planet. That’s good enough for me.” She smiled a sad smile and I understood.
“Sure,” I answered quickly. “Whatever you say.” I wasn’t going to say anything else, but then I added, “Will I see you again? I’d like to, very much.”
“We’re not supposed to see each other anymore. But… maybe I’ll see you around next winter, who knows…” she winked. I felt my throat tighten. I shook her hand and turned to go.
“You can cross the lake now, I promised it’s not going to break this time,” she promised.
I walked to the lake and decided to ask one more question before continuing. “Hey, why di—” I turned around, but she was already gone. I sighed I kept going. The ice didn’t even crack this time, and I made it home safe.
I saw her every winter for the next ten years. At the same exact place and at the same exact time on December 23rd, we’d find each other and chat. She’d tell me about her adventures and I’d tell her about my life and my plans for the Holidays.
With every year, though, she seemed to grow weaker, frailer, and sadder. When I saw her that last time five years ago, she was but a husk of what she’d been. She looked small and fragile, her eyes were the same color, but had lost their magic gleam, now more akin to petrol than to deep, frozen water. There was still snow those days, but too little. That time I had to travel all the way to Alaska, where the snow still fell, since winter had all but extinguished in my town. Maybe I had kept my end of the bargain, but other humans hadn’t. We’d lost winter as a result.
We simply sat on a log that last time. She’d thought she wouldn’t see me, and was surprised to find me waiting in the middle of a white field in a place so far from my home.
“I’m sorry for everything,” I said as she sat beside me.
“It’s okay,” she replied. “It’s not just your fault.”
“Yeah, but I still feel pretty responsible.”
“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it.” She looked me straight in the eye and I saw tears brimming. I couldn’t help but cry too. “The day we met,” she said after a while, “you wanted to ask me why I’d helped you, of everyone. I disappeared before you could turn around because I didn’t want to answer.” She shrugged unapologetically. “I think I did it because I saw goodness in you. I’d also say that it’s because I hate bullies, but that would only be half true. I do hate them, but I could’ve sealed them without saving you. The truth is that I thought maybe you could help me in some way. And… don’t get me wrong, you did, a little… but it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry this has to be our last encounter.”
“No, why do you say that?” tears are now spilling down my cheeks. “You don’t know. Maybe we’ll see each other next year. I promise I’ll go to Antarctica if necessary.”
But she only shook her head miserably. “I do know. I won’t be around next year. I’m sorry.”
I had never hugged her, but I was moved to do it that day, and she hugged me back. We stayed like that for a while, and when I realized she had vanished in my arms, I stood up and went to my hotel.
She was right. Winter didn’t come again. There’s not a snowflake around to give me hope, and I don’t know what to do. It’s December 23rd again. I’m sitting at the lake, which is now dry and yellow. Gray smug hangs thickly above my head and I can’t see farther than a couple of meters in front of me.
I look down at my feet and remember what happened fifteen years ago in this very spot; how different everything had been then. As I stare at the ground and reminisce on the lost past, a small snowflake flutters down to the tip of my shoes. It’s dark and dirty, but it’s still a snowflake. I understand what it means. Maybe we’re not safe yet, and we have a lot of work to do, but I get the general message: There’s still hope.
