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Chapter 13~ A Growing Storm
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Each step across the West End sidewalk anchored Kit into the earth more and more. Ever since stepping off of Flora Mae’s doorstep, she felt as if she was slowly sinking into a frozen lake. She didn’t even know where she was headed anymore. She just kept walking. And if she walked long enough, she’d make it home. She hadn’t heard Charlie’s calls after her. She wasn’t answering her phone. The only sound that made sense was the vicious scream of the wind in her ears. But, that was half an hour ago.
Her thighs were frozen to the park bench. Even the backs of her eyeballs were cold. She shook and chattered reflexively. The heat in her chest from before had long faded away. Now, there was nothing.
She had made it to some part of Central Park that not many others bothered with two days before Christmas. Part of her wanted to be found and wrapped up in a hug, being coddled and told it was all a dream. The other part wasn’t stupid.
Kit tried thinking of all the things she might be able to do before the snowstorm killed them all. The list was fairly short. But, they all included her mother Hannah.
She thought of how easy it would be to thaw her thighs, stand back up, and go home. She could be warm again. She could be happy. Why did the easy things make her feel so calm yet so sick?
A bird sang nearby. Atop a frozen tree branch, a songbird hopped and chirped along before stopping to pluck a twig of mistletoe into its beak.
That’s so weird, Kit thought, curiously watching the bird. I’ve never seen mistletoe grow in New York.
“You know,” a voice started behind her, “I don’t visit a lot of parks, but I’ve got to say, this one is pretty nice.”
Kit looked behind her shoulder to Bernard approaching her, alone. She turned back around, watching the bird again. But, it had flown away.
“I’m not coming back.”
“Fine. But, you know that’s not what’s important.”
“Then what is?”
“The bird.”
She looked back at him incredulously. “What?”
He looked back to the spot where the songbird had once been. “Kit, I can conjure almost anything in the world—and many times, I do. But, whenever I try to conjure you the perfect Christmas gift or birthday present, it always comes out bird-themed for some weird reason.”
He sat at her side, smiling a little at himself.
“In fact, whenever I think of you while conjuring things, it’s always…birds.”
She looked down and tried to unstick her frozen thighs from the bench. “Because I always fly off when things get rough?”
“Because when people look at you, they always have to look higher.”
Kit looked back to Bernard but found him already meeting her gaze. He continued, “You’re special, Kit. Someway, somehow—you are. And it’s not because you were born into the Calvin family or because you’ve been surrounded by magic all your life—but you are human. For better or for worse. You are the most real human I’ve ever seen.”
She shook her head. “Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Well, it should,” he said, unwinding his favorite blue scarf from his neck and draping it across Kit’s, “Because humans are notorious for not giving up, even when all the odds are stacked against them. A trait I most admire. And just like that bird, you’re going to fly right back up on your branch and soar.”
Kit giggled to herself, beaming back at Bernard with a very festive sparkle in her eye. “That was so corny.”
“Oh, are my metaphors outdated?” he joked.
“Yes,” she laughed, “Yes, they are.”
The two were quiet for a few moments more. She leaned her head against his shoulder. She wished he was warmer. But, she was warm enough for the both of them.
“What’s gonna happen next?” she thought aloud. Now was the time for the coddling. Now was the time for the reassurance.
“I don’t know. I wish I did. But, at least we’ll have tomorrow to figure it out.”
She met his eyes for a moment, just to share a smile. But, he looked back with his thoughtful gaze that they had shared after the snowball fight earlier that morning. Kit took a weak breath. Maybe it was the new haircut or the new clothes, but he didn’t look the same anymore. The air shifted slightly. And a timid warmness spread across her chest.
Bernard broke his gaze for a second to look down at Kit’s hands. His own gloved hands began tightening restlessly.
“Kit,” he started, “I know...I know that I’m just—”
“Kit!” A voice suddenly shouted from across the park side entrance. Whipping around, she saw Charlie and Grandpa Scott making their way across the walking path. Kit tore away from the bench and wrapped herself into her dad.
Kit could hear the pounding in her father’s chest, and she knew that the bird wasn’t flying alone. It had a family to take care of. She pulled away and hugged Grandpa Scott tight.
“I’m so sorry.”
The trip to the Cathedral Pkwy 1 train was quiet. Kit and Charlie took the lead along the sidewalk while Bernard and Grandpa Scott kept a safe distance behind. Better to leave the humans to make amends together. The sky was nearly white with clouds as the afternoon snow started to fall. Cars rushed by and filled the air with a stale, sobering odor. But, Bernard was tired of complaining.
“I don’t know what’ll become of her. She’s too outspoken,” began Scott, shaking his head.
Bernard looked ahead to the back of the two humans, swapping ideas and arguments.
“They both are. And besides, I think a free mind is a nice change of pace. I mean, honestly, I’m usually the one giving orders. Speaking her mind is her whole future, after all,” he replied.
“Yes, but she’ll have all the time in the world to do that at Columbia.”
Bernard looked over at Grandpa Scott, curiously. “Columbia?”
“Over there.” Scott pointed to a large campus several streets down where a tall White House-looking building stood overlooking a long field of snow. “Columbia University. Kit’s attending there this fall on a huge Creative Writing scholarship. It’s the proudest I’ve ever been for her, but I’m worried about how she’ll do. She’s not like everyone else. She doesn’t see the world the same way.”
They walked in silence after that. Bernard kept looking at Columbia University in the distance. It looked so far away.
**********
The ride back to the North Pole was one filled with uneasy silence and hope beginning to grow again. Kit couldn’t say she felt fully alive once more, but Bernard certainly knew how to lift her spirits. Her ideas were just starting to blossom into something she could have faith in. She could have faith in herself even when the world was ending and everyone she loved would soon be lost forever. Wow, what a bummer.
But, she prided herself on her intuition. She could feel the shift. And what seemed like a time for reconciliation and empowerment turned out to be a blank space that Kit couldn’t see through. Charlie seemed disappointed and wary of Kit’s newfound spark. Bernard had sheltered himself to the back of the sleigh, watching from afar and saying nothing. Only Grandpa Scott entertained her encouraging attitude.
“First thing in the morning, I’ll call the Council and we’ll call upon any and all Legendaries on earth to lend a hand. Who knows, maybe there’s some ancient power lying dormant that we can tap into to track down Father Time.”
“But, what if there isn’t?” Kit hollered across the ripping winds, “If you’d let me into Father Time’s domain, I might be able to find something that would help us—”
“No, Kit. Out of the question,” Charlie intervened.
Kit kept a steady grip onto the sleigh as they began nearing the stunning colors of the Aurora Borealis overhead. That meant they were close to home. Or at least the North Pole—home was New York.
“What about Buddy?” Kit called.
“What about Buddy?” Scott said, throwing his head around his shoulder and cracking the reigns, “Even if we got in contact with him, what help would he be? I appreciate your eagerness, but he’s never had a close connection with Father Time.”
“But, he might know something. We won’t know unless we really try.”
That was all that was said on the matter for the rest of the trip. Once they arrived at the North Pole, a team of elves took the sleigh and reindeer to rest for the night. The group met Carol at the back entrance of the Landing Stables. She ran to meet Scott, throwing her arms around him and greeting the rest of them similarly.
“Have you heard anything from Buddy?” Kit asked eagerly.
Carol shook her head and held Kit close. “No, honey. I’m sorry.”
But, Kit was never down for too long. And she knew too many who admired her for it.
They retired back to Santa’s office where a brief supper had been laid out for each of them. Kit ate what she could, much too engaged in her own brainstorming to think of food. Charlie and Santa dug in, forgetting everything else entirely. After a few bites, Kit stood in front of the group as if presenting a project.389Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM6Vh7XYIN5
“I’ve thought a lot about this in the last half hour, and I really think there isn’t any time to waste here. If we want to find Father Time, we have to lure him out,” she hastily explained.
“Kit, we’re eating,” Scott said, gulping down a near pint of hot chocolate.
“You don’t need to use your mouths, just your ears. I think with just another go at Flora Mae we could find out all we need about Father Time. That’s all we need, right? If we could find someone else with a strong connection to him, we could essentially find him!”
She scrambled to Grandpa Scott’s desk where she had left a few old books including outdated rumors on Father Time. She pressed them to her chest and presented them out to a much irritated Charlie.
“I’ve been reading on Father Time. If I could just get a few pieces of hard information on him, I could connect the dots. We can do this!”
The room quieted besides the chewing of the two adults, the crackling of the fireplace, and Kit’s heavy breaths. She waited for an answer, a word of agreement…maybe applause. But, there were only stares. The kind of stares that made her feel desperately alone. A shuffle of movement from the corner captured her attention. Bernard had pulled himself from the wall, a grim look on his face.
“I’m going to bed.”
He left the office, Kit looking after him. After a second, she turned back to Scott and Charlie, but they had officially lost themselves in their dinner. Setting the books back up on the desk, Kit bound out of the large doors and into the empty hallway. She walked its perimeter, looking down every split in the main hallway until finally finding Bernard on the balcony in the nearby Snow Parlor. The glass doors wide open and the silver curtains dancing into the bitterly cold wind, there he stood looking out at the approaching snowstorm. He had changed from his human clothes almost as soon as they arrived, preferring his more sensible burgundy and navy blue tunic. But, he looked so different. Maybe it was the haircut but Kit now felt wedged between what she admired about the past and what she anticipated about the future. She took a few steps forward, wrapping her thick sweater tight around her arms and biting back the cold.
“What do you think about my ideas?” she said.
He didn’t answer. She looked closer. His elbows were leaned against the railing. His fists were tight.
“Bernard, what do you think—”
“It won’t work.” It came out as a grunt almost.
“What?”
He was quiet, squeezing his fists together. “Your ideas won’t work because you don’t know what you’re doing, Kit.”
She blinked a few times, hoping she was hearing things wrong. He’d never criticized her like that before. Granted, he was honest, but she thought something had changed.
“Okay, well, work with me here. Come back in and let’s brainstorm. You are the one who told me to get back up on the branch.”
“Why didn’t you call me? From the snow globe?” He demanded. A shadow had fallen over him, and she noticed the tenseness of every muscle in his body.
“What do you mean?”
“You know. I sat by that stupid snow globe every single night for months, waiting for you to do something, Kit. I kept it on the table right next to my chair ,and I’d sit there every night waiting for you because suddenly it felt like nothing else was worth doing. Even if I knew you wouldn’t respond, I stayed just for the possibility that you might reach out to me. But, it was clear; you didn’t care anymore.”
Kit stepped forward but felt far too off-balance.
“I have always been loyal to this family and this…situation. You’re my best friend and you always will be. Nothing’s changed.”
“You’re going to Columbia next fall.”
She fell deathly silent. Whatever strength her words had had liquified and drained away, and now, she was hollow. Bernard took a step and forced the drowning feeling that was rising in his throat back down. For just a moment, the fire in his veins had been doused away. It was true after all. And the air had grown too thick to breathe.
“I…” he started, tightening his face and pushing every instinct to implode away. “I was wrong about you. I was wrong about us. And I can’t do this anymore.”
He passed by her and Kit turned back, needing to say something. Only she didn’t know what. Every logical thought had fallen away.
“What did you expect, Bernard?” she defended, feeling every word burn the tip of her tongue. He stopped but didn’t turn back. “Did you think I’d throw away my dreams and stay here for the rest of my life, singing stupid carols and pretending I belonged? You’ve known for years that becoming a writer is something I’ve wanted more than anything else. This place—you and Grandpa Scott—have shaped me, and I wouldn’t be who I am today without it. But, don’t I get a chance to be normal? Don’t I get a chance to take charge of my own life?”
He turned to her, face blank and hands tossed into the air. “You’ve never had a problem taking charge of your own life. It’s one of the things you’re best at. I didn’t think you were so ready to give up your life here and forget about all of us. But, if you want to run off to your New York school and become an unfeeling shell just like everyone else, I guess there’s nothing I can do to stop you. And I guess I should start getting used to being a distant memory.”
As if a flare gun had gone off inside her stomach, Kit’s face flushed red and her blood boiled. She marched over and shoved her hands into his chest.
“God, I’m so sick of this!” she shouted, burning her anger into his stunned expression. “You complained and whined the whole trip and made every minute unbearable and you know why?”
“Kit—” he warned.
“Because your heart is so closed up and hardened that even the thought of a bright city of opportunities like New York makes you sick. And I know it just kills you that New York might be able to give me more than the North Pole can. Maybe that’s why you’re acting like such a jerk.”
Bernard’s eyes grew dark and he pushed forward, growing taller by the second.
“You know, sometimes I wish you were never born there. New York seems exciting on the outside, but it isn’t like this place at all. It’s dark and doesn’t care about you—doesn’t care about anyone!”
Kit shoved forward and bore into his glare. “So that’s why you have such a problem with me going?! Because of your own prejudice?! Or is it because I’m not an ‘all-knowing’ wise ass like you?!”
Something hard snapped inside Bernard, and he felt a hand begin to reach out for Kit’s waist.
“No, because—”
Suddenly, he stopped. He’d been shouting. They’d both been shouting. Kit’s face was twisted in fury and confusion. And Bernard felt his chest sink.
“Because you’re naive, Kit.”
The anger left her eyes and was replaced with an empty look. One that didn’t understand or maybe just couldn’t. Every word bit back like a hand touching a hot stove when the child just didn’t know any better.
“You think you have the answers and you think you know better, but the truth is…you don’t. People like you believe in Santa Claus and magic because maybe that’s all it’ll take to make the world better. And if you go back to New York for good, sooner or later, it will chew you up and spit you out completely different. You’re just not strong enough.”
She dropped her gaze and stared at the floor, reflecting back her broken expression. Kit wrapped her hands around her freezing arms, suddenly realized that she was shivering. The stinging in her eyes caused the burning in her head to blow out of control. She felt sick.
“Is that really what you think?” It came out almost a whisper. She didn’t think she could raise her voice any louder.
But, Bernard couldn’t speak nor meet her eyes. He looked off to the side and clenched his jaw tight, knowing what needed to be said couldn’t be taken back. The wind whistled as the storm finally ushered itself in.
Kit nodded, finally caving into herself. After she had gone, Bernard stood in his spot for several moments and looked after her.
And all at once, he didn’t feel as old as he really was. He felt as if his heart was moving and working for the first time in his life and everything before that had been comatose. Why wouldn’t the world just end already?
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