A Very Merry Christmas: WITH "Do You Hear What I Hear" AND "Bah Humbug, Ba (16 page)

The day was overcast, but a weak blue patch of sky promised the sun would come out. As long as it didn’t melt the snow and make things start sliding around, thought Allison, as she used Lee’s footprints to climb over the mounded snow to the street. The street was covered with new snowfall and Lee was nowhere in sight.

At the far end of the street near the green, a small knot of people were gathered. She waded toward them as fast as the snow would allow, but when she was halfway there, they moved away in the opposite direction.

She would never catch up to them. She stopped in the middle of the street, looked around. It seemed like she was the only person left in town. She shaded her eyes with her hand and searched the mountains that rose behind the row of stores. Saw groups of people fanning out in all directions. She might be able to catch up to one of them if she could find a shortcut.

Then she remembered Jamie and Jen bursting through the back door to the general store, Spanky tearing around the counter. What had they been doing out behind the store? Where had they come from? There might be a path that she could use to connect with one of the search parties. She came to the passageway to the stores. Snow had partially covered it and several chunks of packed snow had fallen from the sides. She climbed over them and stopped on the boardwalk to catch her breath. She was completely alone.

She hurried toward the general store and looked in the window. No one appeared to be inside. Cal must be out of his mind with worry. And his wife, Tracy, whom they’d met at the Revels.

She tried the door handle. The door opened and she stepped inside. The room was warm, the Franklin stove had been left unattended.

She walked straight through the store and opened the back door. And came up against a wall of white. The mountain seemed to grow straight up from the back steps. Trees stuck out of the snow like candles on a cake. Above her and to the left, she found the nearest group of searchers, slowly making their way along a ridge. They were carrying shovels, rakes, picks, anything that could be used for digging.

A gust of wind blew snow into her face. Holding her arm in front of her eyes, she jumped down into the drifts. Wasted a few precious seconds looking for a path. Found it almost directly in front of the steps, but it was nearly indiscernible from the rest of the mountain because of the drifting snow. She started up it, sinking knee-deep where the fresh powder had accumulated.

She had struggled upward for less than fifty feet when she tripped over something. She fell forward on her face. Fear closed her throat. She struggled to all fours, crawled to where something was sticking out of the snow and desperately began clawing out a hole with both hands. Nearly cried out in relief when she discovered a jagged rock just beneath the surface.

Struggled back to her feet. There was no time to lose. No one could survive out here for very long, especially not children or a small dog. She thought of Jen and Jamie bounding after their puppy, how still they stood onstage as Mary and Joseph, their delight when Santa arrived.

She was covered with snow, her eyelashes were wet with it. She wiped her face with her coat sleeve and plowed ahead. At last she came to a place where the powder was tamped down by the prints of many boots.

She followed the prints as they wound back and forth across the incline. It was hard going and after a several minutes she had to stop and catch her breath. And it seemed she had gotten no closer to the search party. She was high enough now to see other search parties in the distance, some on the mountain, some down by the road. Except for an occasional cracking sound, or a thump when a clump of snow fell from a tree limb, it was eerily silent.

Then she remembered what Chris had said about the unstable mountains. Hadn’t she seen on a nature show how a yell could start an avalanche? Surely that’s not what he meant when he said unstable. She looked above her, to where the mountains rose into the gray clouds and disappeared.

Those kids couldn’t have gone very far. The snow would have come up to their thighs. And Spanky would have sunk right to the bottom. No, they must be someplace close.

Allison took a final deep breath and was about to start off again, when she heard a sound. She stopped and listened. Not snow falling. More like a bird? No. There it was again. A bell. The tinkling of a bell.

The bell she heard their first day as Spanky bounded over the snow to the street. She looked around. Strained to decipher from what direction it came. Silence. She waited, hardly daring to breathe.

And it came again. Off to the right, she was sure. She looked in the opposite direction to the search party that was moving farther and farther away.

She opened her mouth to yell, then stopped. No yelling. And besides it might not be Spanky. It might be a decoration from the green, carried off by the wind.

A few feet later, she found a fork in the path, and even though there were no footprints to follow, the wind had cleared some of the snow and there were places where she could get a foothold.

Here and there she saw indentions in the snow, but it was impossible to tell if they were prints or just the natural evidence of a changing landscape. Every few feet she stopped and listened. Heard another tinkle and knew she was headed in the right direction.

And suddenly there he was. A little black-and-white dog, a red ribbon around his neck, hopelessly caught in a tree branch.

He barked excitedly when he saw her.

“Shh,” she ordered and plowed toward him.

He lunged for her and twisted against the branch. She grabbed him. “Hold still,” she said as she worked the ribbon from the branch. As soon as he was free, he jumped up, licked her face and promptly sank into the snow.

She lifted him out and put him on firmer ground. “Find Jamie and Jen,” she said in an excited whisper. “Go on, boy, take me to them.”

Spanky bounded away, then stopped and looked back at her. He was standing perilously close to the edge of a narrow ridge and Allison realized that she would have to cross it. Hugging the mountain, she gingerly followed. Something cracked above her head. A clump of snow fell right in front of her, nearly burying Spanky. He shook it off and waited for her to catch up. Then he took off again.

She was sweating inside her coat with the exertion from keeping on her feet and not tumbling over the edge of the ridge. She looked down. She had gone beyond the buildings and was looking straight down on the village green.
You’re not that high up,
she consoled herself.
It’s not the goddamned Alps or a glacier. Just a foothill.
Foothill, her ass, it was a straight drop to Main Street. She puffed out air. It couldn’t be more than a hundred feet at most, with lots of snow at the bottom to cushion her fall, if she fell, which she was not going to let happen, because she had children to rescue.

And warning herself not to look down again, she eased along the rock.

At last she stepped out onto a platform of snow and hopefully rock beneath. Spanky had stopped and was standing at attention in front of a black opening. Not large enough to be a mine entrance. Thank God. This was more like a natural schism.

She peeked inside. Okay. More like a cave. She shuddered. If those children were alive and well, she hoped they got the spanking of a lifetime.
Please let them be alive and well.

She leaned into the darkness. “Jamie? Jen? Are you in there?” No answer. She was afraid to call out much louder. She was psyching herself out, but she wasn’t about to take any chances with an avalanche and she wasn’t going to go in there unless she had to.

“Jen? Jamie?” she called a little louder.

“In here,” a small voice echoed back.

Thank God. Allison looked for any searchers that she could signal. They were all really far away. She waved her arms anyway. No one seemed to notice. She took a step toward the entrance, but before she could force herself to go inside, Jen appeared out of the dark.

Her eyes were round and her face was pinched with fear. Her lips quivered. Allison dropped to her knees and the child fell into her arms.

“Where’s Jamie?” Allison asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. Trying not to frighten Jen any more than she already was.

“I’m in here,” another small voice echoed from the shaft. “I need help.”

“He dropped the flashlight and it broke,” said Jen, sniffing. She rubbed her sleeve across her nose. “And he hurt his foot looking for it. Stupid. Boys are so dumb.”

“I am not,” came the voice from the dark.

“Are, too,” said Jen, starting to cry. She looked at Allison. “Aren’t they?”

Allison smiled, blinking back her own tears of relief. “Yeah, they are,” she whispered. “But it isn’t nice to let them know we know.”

“Oh,” said Jen.

“Hurry,” came Jamie’s wavering voice.

“Come on,” said Allison. But she let Jen lead the way.

Jamie was only a few feet from the entrance and the area was lit from the opening. But still Allison had to look twice before she understood what she was seeing. He was surrounded by…Christmas packages. Wrapped up and tied with ribbons.

She fell to her knees and started inspecting him. “Where are you hurt?”

“My foot. I can’t stand up on it.”

“Do you think you could hold on to my neck so I can carry you out?” How heavy could a small boy be? And it hit her with sad chagrin that she had no idea.

Jamie didn’t answer. But he wrapped his arms around her and she staggered to her feet. As soon as she was standing, he wrapped his legs around her waist. He was shaking with cold and fright.

Allison held him tight. “Okay, let’s blow this joint.”

“Wait,” said Jamie. “Don’t forget the presents.”

The presents, of course.

“I’ll get them,” said Jen, and began piling the boxes on top of each other.

“I gotta ask,” said Allison. “Why do you have Christmas packages in here?”

“It’s where we hide them, so nobody will peek before Christmas. We always come get them on Christmas morning and sneak them into the living room. But Jamie dropped the flashlight.”

“I couldn’t help it,” he said. “I tripped.”

“You should have let me carry it. I’m the oldest,” said Jen from behind a mountain of packages.

“Maybe you should make two trips,” said Allison, worried that the child couldn’t see where she was going. She shifted Jamie to her hip, grabbed hold of Jen’s coat and, with Spanky jumping and racing between their legs, she led them outside.

They stood huddled together on the ledge outside the mouth of the cave. Allison could see several search parties in the distance. She let go of Jen long enough to wave an arm trying to get their attention. But still no one noticed her and she began to fear that she would have to get them all down the mountain by herself.

And then a group suddenly appeared directly below them. She waved more vigorously. Hazarded one quick, “Up here.”

One of them looked up, then another. Allison could have fainted with relief. Suddenly they were all looking up and pointing. And Allison heard the rumble that seemed to come from right overhead. Below her, everyone froze as the first snow rained down on her and the children.

Jen screamed. Jamie buried his head in her shoulder and Allison had just enough time to throw them all against the rocky wall before the rumble became a roar, and masses of snow fell down the mountain.

Allison pressed Jamie and Jen against the wall, shielding them with her body.

“Spanky!” cried Jamie, before his voice was drowned out as snow and ice and boulders thundered past them.

They were going to die, thought Allison. They were going to die. And in that stereotypical last moment before death, her life flashed before her. And all she saw was Lee.

Lee watched, unable to move. His camera fell from his hand and thumped against his chest, while people ran in all directions as a curtain of white unfurled toward them. Someone grabbed his arm, pushed him aside, as the world went white around him.

“No-o-o-o!” he cried and struggled against the arm that was holding him back.

On and on it came, filling up the village green. Snow and chunks of ice and broken limbs and boulders, sliding down the mountain like primordial lava. The earth shuddered and quaked. He watched, helpless. Saw Allison and the children disappear behind a mountain of white.

And then it was over, except for the crunch of settling ice. Eddies of snow filled the air. It covered Lee’s face, his hair, his clothing. Slowly, he became aware of those around him. Standing at the edges of the flow, Cal and his wife, Tracy, clung to each other, shock and horror carved on their faces.

And no one moved.

Lee started toward the mountain. He didn’t have a plan, he just had to get to them. To Allison.

The world shifted again and he fell back. Someone grabbed hold of him to keep him from falling. Chris.

“We have to do something,” Lee stammered. “Something.”

“And we will,” said Chris, keeping his voice even. “As soon as everything settles and it’s safe.”