by Ian Shimwell
Tess though thanked the stranger gratefully and took her world hospital and wooden attachment to one side and soon became lost in her own make-believe medical world.
The stranger stood up and John and Tammy immediately rose too.
“I must take my leave then,” the stranger said solemnly.
“But you can’t go out into the snow barefooted – you’ll catch your death,” protested Tammy.
“Ah death,” repeated the stranger deeply, “the undiscovered country from which no traveller has returned – except one. Try not to worry too much about my feet, Tammy. They will acclimatise. I have a long way to go. I walk in eternity…”
“Wait,” John reached out and held onto the man’s arm for a moment. “You said that you have a lot of work to do today – what work?”
“And is it something to do with this gift of Christmas you alluded to yesterday evening?” questioned Tammy.
As usual, the country over, Tess had gone back to playing with one of her old, simple toys – her play ball. She kicked it up in the air and the stranger caught it.
He looked at the ball intently and held it as if it was as precious as a new-born baby. “It’s funny, isn’t it? After all these untold years, I still have the whole wide world in my hands.”
“Please tell us what you are about to do,” urged John with surprising seriousness.
“Yes,” agreed Tammy, “it sounds rather important.”
“All right,” decided the stranger, “I will. I have come here for the second time – and it should all have been relatively straightforward.” John encouraged him to explain further. The stranger held John and Tammy’s hands.
John immediately saw images of the populace around the world. Astonishingly, the many peoples eventually seemed to form some sort of impossibly colossal queue. The world was changing. John saw the four horsemen. Was this an apocalyptic vision? Was the world ending?
“So, your gift of Christmas is judgement?” realised Tammy.
“It is,” but the stranger now seemed torn with sudden indecision. “My father saw your family as the ideal microcosm of man, to represent all. Father was sure that your actions would confirm it was now time. You see John, you are the wayward husband. Tammy, you are the distant wife drifting on a downward spiral. And Tess, you sadly represented the spoilt selfish child. Which made all of you the archetypal dysfunctional family.
“But strangely, my presence here seemed to subtly change you. John – you weren’t supposed to have the kindness to take me in on Christmas Eve reflecting perhaps an innkeeper over two thousand years ago. Your wife – you should have been more of a doubting Tammy. And Tess – you shouldn’t have instinctively welcomed me into your heart.”
“So, are you going to share your gift of Christmas to humanity?” asked John who now understood more than he wished to.
“Your actions have thrown up too much uncertainty. My father will ask me to come back properly one day – and believe me, that day will come.”
“But not now,” said Tammy in awe, “not today?”
“Not today,” smiled the stranger with what John could only describe as great relief. “The gift of Christmas will have to wait because you have, unwittingly, given the peoples of this world the most precious gift of all – a second chance that brings hope.”
The stranger turned to leave, but Tess ran up to him and hugged him. He gently eased her away and said quietly, “Happy Christmas.” He walked towards the back door that led into the garden, and then stopped for one very last time. “Oh, and thanks Tammy for worrying about my feet.” And with that, the stranger walked out of their lives.
“Will we ever see him again?” asked Tess almost mesmerised.
“I shouldn’t think so,” said Tammy who then suggested that she started the Christmas dinner.
Surprisingly, John elected to come and help her. When they were in the kitchen alone, John asked the question: “I wonder… the Christmas Gospels? Do you think he could have possibly been… the son of… his father?”
Tammy of course knew what he meant and stared at him thoughtfully. “Maybe, or perhaps he might have been a wandering say psychic with remarkable abilities.”
“Or someone who has done an astonishing amount of research on this family?” John considered.
“Does it really matter?” said his wife frankly. “He has given us a second chance – now, are we going to take it?”
Squeaker then burst into the room, closely followed by a smiling Tessy.
John just couldn’t help thinking that their cat had just squeaked a ‘yes’.
The stranger took one last look at the house and smiled before walking away. It was time to move on. He made footprints in the snow with each step but strangely, as it was no longer snowing, the foot-marks only lasted a moment before disappearing altogether.
THE END
…Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing…
2 Timothy 4.1-5
Read more…
Read The Night Before Christmas Eve, a ‘sideways glance’ which is intended to accompany and compliment this novella in an original and thought-provoking way.
Look out for PLAY OF THE MONTH at www.thearmchairdetective.moonfruit.com
www.thearmchairdetective.moonfruit.com
