The Boy and the Snowman

This is a short story I wrote for Christmas

Christmas Eve, 1954, Scotland

Joshua Jones was twelve years old. It was the day before Christmas, and he was hunting through the garage looking for presents. He had searched through every box and shelf in the garage and turned the place upside down, and it looked like carnage. There was an air duct at the back of the garage that looked to be out of place. He summoned all of his strength and pulled the grate off the front, and inside was an old-fashioned suitcase. He dragged the suitcase out of the air duct along the floor and lifted it onto his father’s workbench. Joshua slowly unlocked the straps at each side and opened the lid. Inside was a soldier’s helmet with a playing card stuck in the brim, the Ace of Hearts, an army jacket with lots of medals pinned on it and a big biscuit tin. Inside the tin were lots of photographs, letters and more medals.

Joshua took the helmet and jacket outside to his garden. He placed the helmet on top of the head of a snowman he had spent the day building and then draped the jacket over its shoulders. He then went over to his father’s apple trees and found the two longest branches that looked like the creepiest arms he had ever seen. He chopped them off with a small axe that had been at the foot of one of the trees. Joshua fed the branches through the sleeves of the jacket and put the hands up as if the Snowman was surrendering. He gave the Snowman an evil smile, menacing eyes, and a long nose from smaller sticks and branches he snapped off the apple trees. Joshua went back to the garage and put everything back the way it was, taking only one photo of his grandfather, whom he had never met and the military paraphernalia belonged to.   

*

**

That night, Joshua prayed at the side of his bed. He prayed his normal bedtime prayer, “Now I lay me down to sleep.” at the end of which, he asked God to use the Snowman’s body to grant his grandfather life for one day only so he could get to meet him at last. Joshua went to sleep and woke up soaking wet. He went to the window and looked out at the garden below. The Snowman was gone, and giant footsteps led away from the green circle in the grass where he had stood. A glowing figure flew towards the window, and Joshua quickly ducked and sat under the windowsill, trembling. There was a gentle knocking on the window. Joshua crept up and looked out, and what he saw levitating outside the window was a glowing white angel, her wings fully spread further than the entire window.

She spoke with a gentle tone. “Joshua, your grandfather can take human form only if you have something of his that was living on the Snowman’s body.” She disappeared after she spoke, and Joshua woke up again, and it was morning.

He ran down the stairs and straight to the Snowman. Nothing had changed. He reached into his pyjamas trouser pocket, grabbed something metal, and opened his fist. It was his grandfather’s dog tags. They read “Rocky Jones” and had brown dried blood on them. Joshua unhooked the clasp, put them around the Snowman’s neck, and waited for him to come to life. Nothing happened, and he heard his parents calling him to open his presents. It was Christmas Day, after all.

*

**

Later that day, after lunch, Joshua looked out of the living room window. The Snowman was gone, and large bootprints led away from the same green circle of grass he had seen in his dream the night before. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, following the bootprints. They led to the stone wall at the end of the garden, and a young soldier who was around twenty-two years old was sitting on the wall smoking a cigarette. Joshua took the photo of his grandfather out of his pocket and compared it to the living, breathing man in front of him. It was a match. The man sitting on the stone wall was his grandfather.

“Grandpa? Is that you?” squealed Joshua in a scared tone

“Kid, the spirits helped me understand what you did so I wouldn’t freak out, but in answer to your question, yes, I am your grandfather.” Rocky replied in a confident voice and then continued, “Is Moria’s cafe still open?”

“Yes, should we go there, Grandpa?” Joshua quietly exclaimed.

“I doubt Moria is still alive as I haven’t seen her since 1911, but let’s go there and talk” Rocky laughed and flicked his cigarette into the snow.

Joshua nervously dragged his feet through the snow as they slowly walked in silence. It seemed like an eternity to reach the cafe at the end of the street. They entered and sat in an empty booth at the far end of the cafe, far away from everyone else. Lucky for them, the cafe always opened on Christmas Day. They ordered milkshakes and burgers, and the waitress asked if they were brothers.

“Grandpa, what was the last Christmas Day you remember like?” Joshua asked, smiling intensely and cutely waiting for the reply

“1914 in no man’s land”

*

**

It was Christmas Eve, 1914, and Rocky Jones was resting against the dirt wall of the trench that had been his home for some time now. He was listening intently to the sounds coming from the other trench on the other side of no man’s land as it sounded like the Germans were singing Christmas Carols and rejoicing. He popped his head up slowly and could see what appeared to be burning fires and what looked like fir trees, with no sentries or bullets flying in his direction. He grabbed a pair of binoculars to look closer and he could see what looked like a party occurring on the German side. Not only this, they were waving happily towards him and shouting, “Tomorrow we not shoot you not shoot.” repeatedly.

The craziness spread amongst his own men, and they began to celebrate Christmas as well. They were singing and dancing and forgot they were in a world-defining war to end all wars.The next day, he awoke to more German festivities, and they were waving white flags. He was asked by his superior to wave his own white flag and to meet the Germans in no man’s land. Rocky met the Germans in the middle of no man’s land, and they gave him champagne and chocolates. They asked if his men would like to celebrate Christmas, have dinner with their men, and call off the war for the day. Rocky was confused and accepted the gifts, and the Germans hugged him. His superiors were overruled by the men, and they set up one huge table and chairs in no man’s land, and they ate together and told stories as if there was no war. They enjoyed Christmas, exchanged gifts, took photographs together and after dinner, they drank long into the night and played an all-against-each-other game of football. After Boxing Day, the friendships ended; they went back to killing each other, and the High Command made sure a truce like the Christmas truce of 1914 would never happen again. The war became a cold, dark, unforgiving place again. Only those who experienced the kindness of their enemy understood what happened in the dirt of no man’s land.

*

**

Joshua’s mouth was open as he listened with disbelief. “Did that really happen?”

“Yes, I sent your father letters and photographs about it,” Rocky said calmly, reassuring his grandson.

“What else would you like to do while you are here, Grandpa?” Joshua asked kindly.

“I know the spirit told me I can not see my son. I would like to visit my wife’s grave and the Cenotaph with my name and my friend’s names on it.”

They walked to the graveyard it wasn’t very far from the cafe. As this was a small Scottish town, and it was Christmas Day, so no one was around to question why a child everyone knew was walking around with a twenty-one-year-old in a First World War dress uniform. The waitress had not asked as she was too tired to care, and she had found Rocky attractive.

Rocky got to his wife’s grave, and he laid some flowers he had picked along the way on the gravestone. He said some personal things he didn’t want the boy to hear. He did the same at the Cenotaph. Happily they walked back to the boy’s house. Rocky sat on the stone wall again the pair laughed and talked till midnight, and then Rocky vanished, and the angry Snowman reappeared.