Welcome to the Flash Fiction Holiday Blog Hop!
All stories must include in the text: a winter holiday theme, a "bad boy" character, and a gift of some kind. For inspiration, we were given this photo:
Enjoy my interpretation of the theme, Midnight Clear. Thanks for reading!
Midnight Clear
By
Whitley Gray
Snow really did squeak
when it got cold enough.
The night air had gone
from brisk to subzero and smelled like a deep freeze. It was a true midnight
clear. The stars glittered like Christmas lights in the black velvet sky. If it
weren’t for the moonlight reflecting off the snow, it would be blacker than an
undertaker’s suit.
There wasn’t a single
light to suggest civilization. And the silence, as if the temperature had
frozen any sound. Unnerving.
This wasn’t the North
Pole. This was…Nebraska. Hazard County, unincorporated.
Eric shivered, hiked
his duffel higher on his shoulder, and walked faster along the side of the
road. Somewhere out there was Graeme’s house.
What if Graeme wasn’t
home? What if Graeme’s parents had a problem with an unexpected guest on
Christmas Eve? What if he couldn’t find Graeme’s house in the dark?
Eric’s phone had died a
while ago, and the charger was back home in Lincoln. Er, former home, most
likely, judging by what had happened. How could this have happened? How had
everything gone so spectacularly wrong from one minute to the next?
In retrospect, it had
been a bad idea—a horrible idea—to come out to his folks during Christmas
break. But he’d turned twenty-one the day before, and everyone had been in such
a great mood, all holiday cheer and good will toward men. Then Eric had made
his announcement and brought the festivities to a screeching halt, eliciting
bad will all around. A crowd of angry faces and angrier words had driven him
out into the cold. He’d barely had time to grab his coat.
Last week, Graeme had
said, “Stay at my house over break. My parents would love to meet you.”
And Eric had turned him
down, thinking about how much Mom wanted him home for his birthday and
Christmas.
“If you change your
mind, give me a call.” Graeme had waved on his way out the door.
What he’d had in his
wallet had gotten him as far as North Platte by bus. And now it was up to his
feet to get him where he was going, step by step, mile by mile, over the squeaking
snow.
Far off in the
distance, a pair of headlights wandered over the rolling Nebraska plains. It
was probably warm in that car. Maybe those people were headed home from a
party, and would stop and give him a ride to Graeme’s. At the very least, they’d
offer to call Graeme and tell him where Eric was.
Cold and homeless in
the middle of nowhere.
Eric paused and stamped
his feet. He’d lost the feeling in them. The chill dove down into his lungs in
an arctic rush, making him cough; his breath froze in white plumes. As long as
he kept moving, he couldn’t freeze to death, right?
Just
keep walking, Hopkins.
The headlights veered
away and then disappeared.
Aw,
man.
What if he walked right by the entrance to Graeme’s place? A shudder went
through him. Teeth chattering, he pulled the collar of his coat up around his
face.
A chime broke the
silence.
Not exactly a chime.
More like a jingle.
It sounded like…well,
it sounded like bells. Sleigh bells, to be exact. And why the hell would he
hear something like that out in the middle of nowhere?
He turned in a circle,
straining to see in the gloom. Something crested the hill ahead. Something
jingling. Eric stared as the creature got closer. Something on four legs,
trotting down the hill, picking up speed. Something with—
Antlers?
No.
The
cold apparently had brought on hallucinations.
Jingle-jingle-jingle.
It’d be on him in seconds. He should run. But he stayed rooted to the spot. Or
perhaps frozen to the ground.
It slowed on the final
approach. It wasn’t big, but it did have antlers. The dog came to a stop, sat
in front of him, and gave a canine grin. He wore a collar decorated with bells,
and a pair of fake felt antlers.
Whoo
boy. What a relief. Eric blew out a breath. “What are you
doing out here, buddy?”
The dog raised a paw
and reached for him.
“Shake? You want me to
shake?” Eric laughed and shook. “I don’t suppose you know where Graeme lives,
do you?”
With a whine, the dog
shook its head, sending the bells pealing.
“Of course not.” Eric
squatted and peered at the dog’s tags. One was thick and dark. The other was
thin and glowed in the dark:
My
name is Hercules
I
belong to Graeme Monroe
RR
360 Hazard, NE
The phone number was
the same one Eric had for Graeme. Somehow he’d found Graeme’s dog, but not Graeme.
Great. Eric stood. Maybe the canine
could find him…
“Where’s Graeme,
Hercules? Huh? Where is he?”
Hercules danced around
Eric’s legs and barked.
“Find Graeme, boy.” What
were the chances it would work?
Hercules stopped and
cocked his head, then turned and headed up the hill.
What
have I got to lose? Graeme might live right over that rise. Eric
strode after the dog, snow creaking beneath his boots.
At the crest, more
rural nothingness. Hercules looked up at him and whined. This was pointless.
The dog was as lost as he was. Maybe Eric should look for a haystack to hunker
down for the night. In the morning he could try something else. He skidded down
into the ditch by the side of the road and up the other side. A barbwire fence.
Hercules bounded past him and crawled under the fence. When in Hazard, do as
the dog does…
He slid under and came
up inside a pasture. Bales of hay were stacked several feet high. With numb
fingers, he pulled them off one by one until he’d managed a cave within. It
was like building a snow fort. Eric crawled inside.
“C’mon, boy! Here!”
Eric whistled.
Hercules crawled in and
lay down. Eric snuggled up next to him. The dog was so warm…
Warmth on his face.
Fingers in his hair. A familiar scent of Old Spice. He was alive. Eric opened
his eyes to the soft glow of a flashlight.
Graeme shook him. “Hey
there.”
“I…I can’t believe
you’re here.”
Chuckling, Graeme
pulled him closer. Into the warmth of his body. “I’m here.”
“Where’s Hercules?”
“Right outside. He’s
such a wily boy, taking off like that. Good thing we got him a Find Me tag.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a dog tag with a
GPS. I have the app on my phone, and it tells me where to find him. He has a
bad habit of running off.” Graeme raised an eyebrow. “So what are you doing out
here in the middle of the night?”
Eric looked away. “I
got kicked out. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to think. And then my
phone died before I could call you. I got to North Platte and was going to walk
the rest of the way, but I got lost in the dark.”
A tear burned down his
cheek and he ducked his head into the crook of his arm. Don’t act like a wuss, Hopkins.
“You’re found now,”
Graeme whispered. “Let’s go home.”
They wriggled backward
out of the straw cave, into the startlingly cold air. It was still full dark.
Hercules grinned and stuck out a paw. Eric shivered. “What time is it?”
“Midnight. I didn’t
notice Hercules was gone until the Christmas party wrapped up.” Graeme waved
him forward. “Your sleigh awaits.”
They trudged across the
pasture, slid under the fence, and then they were in the blessed warmth of
Graeme’s vintage pickup with Hercules in the backseat. Eric sighed and
stretched his legs out. The heat pouring out of the vents felt like heaven.
“God, that’s good.”
“You’re half frozen.
Get over here.” Graeme tugged on Eric’s jacket until he slid over. Graeme
wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulders. “Better.”
It was better. Eric didn’t mean to, but it had been an emotional
night, and he’d lost his family, and then the dog… Eric reached for him, tilted
his head, and brought their mouths together. He could feel Graeme’s surprise. Then
Graeme kissed back, lips meltingly warm and sweet. God, it had been a while
since Eric had had this.
Graeme’s arms twined
around Eric and pulled them together. The almost shy kiss deepened. Graeme’s tongue
teased its way inside, and his hunger caught Eric off guard.
Bells jingled, followed
by a sharp bark.
With a shaky laugh,
Graeme pulled away. He ran his thumb over Eric’s bottom lip. “Been wanting that
since September, ever since you moved into the house.”
Holy
shit. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“The place is like
Grand Central Station. No privacy. I was going to tell you over break, but when
you said you were going home, I didn’t think I’d see you until January.” He ran
a hand along Eric’s jaw. “What a terrific surprise.”
“Speaking of surprise…
Will your folks mind? Me staying with you, I mean.” Eric didn’t think he could
take another angry mob.
“Of course not.” Graeme
sounded a touch indignant. “They know about me.”
“Sorry about dragging
you out on Christmas Eve.”
“Nah.” Graeme brushed a
kiss across Eric’s mouth. “Santa came early. You’re my Christmas gift.”
Eric’s heart swelled,
filling his chest with warmth. “And you’re mine.”
Hercules barked and put
his paw on the seatback between Graeme and Eric.
Eric laughed and gave
the dog a pat between his fake antlers. “Who dressed the dog up?”
“My little sister. For
the party.”
“Thanks goodness for
party animals.”
“No doubt. Let’s go
home.”
~*~
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