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.”
Lee shook his head. “Now. They’ll suffocate while we’re waiting until it’s safe.”
“Have to wait,” said Chris, but Lee pushed him away and started dragging himself through the snow and detritus. He’d barely gone ten feet when he sank in up to his waist. Two men took him under the arms and pulled him out. Lee tried to fight them off. “Let go.” He thrashed his arms out at them, but with his legs sinking into the snow, he had no leverage. They pulled him back to where the others stood, holding their shovels and picks, shaking their heads.
And that’s when Lee gave up hope. He dropped his face to his hands. Allison was gone, they’d never get them out alive, they weren’t even trying. Because they knew it was futile. It was too late. A cry escaped him, he didn’t try to hold it back. He didn’t care about anything, not anymore.
The roaring had stopped, but the world was black. Oh, God, they were—Allison opened her eyes. Not dead. They were alive. They must be in an air pocket. The rock overhang had saved them.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, afraid any sound or movement might set off another avalanche. She felt two little heads nod.
Spanky, who had taken shelter on Allison’s feet, wiggled free.
No, thought Allison; the slightest movement might collapse their fragile shelter. Carefully, she turned her head away from the wall. And stared. Oh. My. God. She grabbed the rough stones for support.
“Lee. Lee, boy.” Chris was shaking him. Lee shook his head. He couldn’t watch. Couldn’t witness Cal and Tracy’s grief, couldn’t let them see his own.
“Look up, dammit.” Chris pulled his hands away. Lee looked up. The sun broke through the clouds and blinded him. He blinked, squinted, but all he could see was eye-dazzling snow.
“There,” Chris whispered and pointed to something. A murmur went through the rescue party. Someone sobbed.
There was snow all around them, up the mountain, covering the place where a few minutes ago Allison had stood with two lost children. And then right at the spot where they had disappeared there was a flurry of snow. Lee could only watch with a feeling of inevitability. Another slide.
The flurry became a little tornado of white. Something black and white scrabbled over the top, barked, then sank out of sight.
Lee stared, rubbed his eyes, stared again. Nothing. He was seeing things. Then another tremor in the snow and a pair of black ears appeared at the surface. And behind him, the sunlight casting auras about them, three heads rose over the top. A whispered cheer rose about him, not loud, but heartfelt, for all its softness.
Allison waved and Lee swayed on his feet.
“Careful, son,” said Chris. “We’ll get them down.”
Mechanically, Lee stepped forward.
“You stay here. We know what we’re doing. Be patient.” He signaled to Allison to stay put, and the line of men began slowly to wind their way up the mountain.
Except for Lee, who found Allison’s eyes and held them.
It seemed to take days but actually took only a half hour to get them free. The avalanche had completely passed them by.
Lee watched the proceedings while standing next to Cal and Tracy. Spanky sat between them. Together they watched the men return down the mountain with Allison and the two children. Lee held his breath at every sound, every time they disappeared behind the snow. And couldn’t believe it when he actually saw Allison running toward him.
She hit him with such force that he stumbled backwards.
“Al,” he said. “Al.” It seemed to be the only word his lips would form. Maybe because she was squeezing the breath out of him.
Allison was so relieved to actually be in Lee’s arms, it took her a few minutes to realize he was shaking. “Lee?” She pulled away to look at him. “Lee,” she said indignantly. “You may think this is funny, but we could have died up there.” Lee shook his head. Hiccupped. Shook some more. Let go of her to wipe his eyes. Gulped in air, trying to get control of himself.
Allison grabbed him b
y the coat lapels and shook him. “You’re hysterical.”
His grin twisted suddenly and he bit his lip. “I…just…It was the relief…It’s just—Jesus, I thought I’d lost you.”
Lee pulled her close. Her chest banged against the cameras hanging around his neck.
“I hope you at least got some good shots,” said Allison, nuzzling her way past the telephoto lens. “What we did on our Christmas vacation.”
“Well, um…”
She pulled back to look at him. “Don’t tell me you didn’t.”
“I forgot. I mean, when you disappeared behind that avalanche, catching it on film just sort of skipped my mind.”
“Yeah, well, when my life flashed before me, all I saw was you.” She was trying to hang tough, but her lip trembled, giving her away.
Lee rubbed his cheek across her hair. “I’m not willing to lose you for all the Pulitzers in the world.”
“We’re in big trouble here.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“Well, you folks are mighty lucky,” said Chris bringing up Jen and Jamie, who was clutching a shivering Spanky. Cal and Tracy walked behind them, supporting each other, watching their children with adoring smiles.
Allison pried herself away from Lee.
“We’re so very grateful to you for saving these two scallywags,” said Cal. Tracy nodded vigorously from behind Cal’s handkerchief.
“Thank you for saving us,” Jen said politely.
“But I wish you would’ve saved our presents, too,” said Jamie.
“Jamie,” warned his father.
“But now Jen and I don’t have anything to give you and Ma for Christmas.”
“We got all we want or need,” said Cal, and sniffed. “Mighty beholden.” This to Allison, who was beginning to feel embarrassed by all the attention and was uncomfortably aware of the snow melting inside her boots.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “But Spanky deserves the real praise. I heard his bell and when I found him, he led me to where they were.” She reached out and petted him. “Oh, he must have lost his bow in the excitement.”
“We’ll get those presents down after breakfast,” said Chris. “And Spanky’s gonna get a big new bow with a bright, shiny bell. This calls for a real celebration. Everybody come on down to the Watering Hole. Pancakes and beer are on me.”
Eight
Two days later, the state highway department cleared the roads leading out of Good Cheer. The Range Rover was towed down the mountain to a body shop in a larger town. Lee and Allison dug out her BMW and packed up the car. They drove to LA, and Allison spent New Year’s Eve on Santa Monica pier while Lee caught the fireworks there on film.
The next morning, Allison sat at Lee’s kitchen table reading the paper. Lee was in his darkroom, developing film, while his digital pictures were being downloaded into the computer.
She was thinking silly thoughts, like how maybe she should start a photo album, chronicling their days in Good Cheer, so they would have something to show their children when they asked how “you and Daddy got together.” Because before Good Cheer they had not been together at all.
An hour later, Lee stepped out of the darkroom. Allison looked up expectantly. He was holding a proof in each hand. And then she saw his expression.
“What’s wrong?”
Lee shook his head. “They didn’t come out.”
“What? Impossible.” Allison stood up. “Let me see.”
“Well, they came out. But—” He dropped one of the prints onto the table. Allison looked. Looked again. There was Main Street. Covered over in snow. It was daytime and it was empty.
“Where is everybody?” she asked.
“They aren’t there.”
“Probably all behind the snowbank.”
“No. They aren’t there.” He dropped the second print. The inside of the village hall. The piano and Christmas tree and not one person.
“What about the others?”
Lee shook his head and motioned her to the darkroom. There were several rolls of pictures. Lee holding the Christmas tree. But no teenage boy and no truck. Allison looking in the store window. An empty sidewalk. An empty village hall. The black curtain across the stage tattered and torn, but no Nativity scene. No Spanky. No Chris Olsen.
A shiver ran across Allison’s skin. “I don’t get it.”
Lee moved past her through the door. She followed him to the computer, waited while he clicked onto his photo gallery. More pictures of the two of them. Allison in the kitchen. The BMW covered with snow. No Spanky scrambling over the mound of snow.
“What’s going on? Is there something wrong with your cameras?”
Lee snorted. “Like in some twilight zone, that only allows me to take pictures of you and me? Do-do-do-do. They weren’t there.”
“What do you mean? Who wasn’t there?”
“Chris. Cal. The dog. The kids.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “Only you and me.”
“I’m calling Marcie.” Allison rummaged in her bag for her cell phone. It was a good thing she had speed dial because her fingers were shaking too badly to have punched in more than one number.
Marcie answered on the second ring, with a meek, “Hi?”
“Marcie, did you rent a ski chalet in Good Cheer?”
“What’s with you? Of course I did. You sound funny. Didn’t things work out?”
“But you never planned on spending Christmas there, did you?”
“W-e-e-e-l-l.” Marcie’s voice slid up the scale.
“Just answer yes or no.”
“Okay. Okay. But don’t get upset.”
“Just tell me,” said Allison beginning to pace.
“Calm down,” said Lee beside her.
“Calm down,” said Marcie over the line. “Actually, Greg and I planned it. For you both to go there. We were sure if you two could just get together for a few days without all the outside garbage getting in the way, you’d figure out how much you love each other.”
“And you stocked it with food and wine and things.”
“We had it delivered.”
“You didn’t spike the brandy with anything weird, did you?”
“What are you talking about? Where’s Lee? Are you really mad?”
If she only knew, thought Allison, even as she sighed with partial relief. At least she and Lee hadn’t been mutually hallucinating. “I’m with Lee and we’re not mad, at least not at you.”
“Well, don’t be mad at each other or at Greg, either. He was only trying to help.”
Allison could tell that her sister was close to tears. “Marcie, it’s all right. Actually, it was a good thing to do. But just tell me. Where did you find this chalet?”
“Greg read about it in one of his magazines. Here. I have a copy of the ad somewhere.” The sound of rummaging. “Here it is.”
Weekly rentals for Christmas. Perfect for those who need a break from the harried season.
“We talked to a really nice real estate agent who arranged everything.”
“Do you have this agent’s name?”
“Sure. It was Chris something. Why? Didn’t you like it?”
“We loved it. Had a wonderful time.”
“Really? Or are you being sarcastic? ”
“No. Really.” Allison looked over to Lee, who was frowning at the computer. Then it hit her. “Chris?”
Lee looked up. She widened her eyes at him.
“What was his last name?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Could it by any chance be Olsen?”
“Hey, yeah, that was it. Did you meet him?”
“Yeah, we met him, nice guy.”
Lee was motioning her over to the computer.
“Hey, I just called to say thanks. I have to go.” Allison hung up. “Guess what? Chris Olsen was the real estate agent. See? Nothing weird.”
Lee just crooked his finger at her. She came to stand behind him, looked over his shoulder at the comput
er screen. It was a newspaper clipping with the headline “Mining Town Becomes a Ghost Town.” Allison’s stomach dropped, and she leaned closer.
The town of Good Cheer, the last bastion of shaft mining in the Colorado Rockies, closed for good on Wednesday. Chris Olsen, mayor and owner of the local bar and grill, was the last to leave. Asked what he would do next, Mr. Olsen said, “I’ve been mayor of Good Cheer for twenty-five years and owner of the Watering Hole for longer. There’s still plenty that I want to do. No need to worry about the good people of Good Cheer. We’re just taking our Good Cheer elsewhere.”
“There,” said Allison. “I told you things were not looking good for Good Cheer. Something must have gone wrong with your film.”
“Allison,” said Lee in a strained voice. “Look at the date.”
Allison scanned the top of the page. Mid Rockies Gazette, was printed in the center, and in the top corner: December 23, 1952. She stared. “This is a joke, right?”
Lee shook his head. “This is stranger than fiction.”
“Shit.” Allison’s knees went weak. She swayed and Lee caught her around the waist and settled her onto his lap. “Greg,” she said. “A trick.”
Lee shook his head.
“So what does it mean?”
“It means we’re taking a six-hour ride to Good Cheer.”
They drove, stopping only to get gas and once to grab a bite to eat. They arrived midafternoon. The roads were cleared all the way up the mountain and into Good Cheer. Lee parked the BMW at the edge of town.
“See,” said Allison. “We’re not crazy. There’s the village green where we sang carols.” They both stared out the front window at the village green and the carpet of snow that covered it. Several feet had drifted up the sides of a sagging band shell. There were no pine swags, no red ribbons. Not one person in sight.
Slowly they got out of the car and, holding hands, walked down the middle of the street to the town. It was deserted. Snow covered the sidewalk. Here and there a roof had caved in under the weight of snow. There was no glass in the windows of the toy shop, only dark, empty space inside. The general store was completely boarded over.
A Very Merry Christmas Page 17
