Gray stared at the ceiling. Pale rays of sunlight were scattered across it, filtering through the blinds. The storm seemed to have let up. It was nice to wake up without an alarm but his mornings at the mine had trained his body long ago and soon enough he found himself sitting up and swinging his feet to the soft carpet below.
Pulling on a robe, he stretched and made his way through the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He turned on his coffee maker, as automatic a motion this morning as any other, and even walked to the front door, forgetting there wouldn't be a paper today until he was staring at his snowy front stoop. Yawning, he glanced up and down the sunny street. No one was out and about yet and the place was covered in a blanket of snow more than a foot high, but at least a few of his neighbours would be digging themselves out from under the debris of last night's storm and warming up their cars for the short trip to church soon enough. Perhaps a few of them would take the snow as a reason to skip it this time and hibernate a little longer with their morning coffee.
He was planning on attending the service himself but the idea of going back inside and relaxing on his couch with his books and that box of fancy pastries the Carmichaels had given him was tempting. He assumed the roads out of town were still a bit hazardous, perhaps enough that he would forgo his usual tradition of catching a movie or picking up some Chinese food in Fielding. It would be nice to take a day off from everything out there, but he reminded himself of his goal. The service would be the most attended church event of the year and he'd chosen his red tie from three finalists last night.
He took his coffee and wrapped a blueberry pastry in a napkin, leaning back on his couch and putting his feet up, staring out the big glass doors at the backyard as he sipped. For now, he could get lost in the quiet. He'd found this was how he enjoyed Christmas most, his years here in Jericho. He liked the town events, certainly, and the parties they threw at the mine. He'd watch them light that tree on Main Street, he'd give his okay on the menu, gifts for the employees, and door prizes, and he greeted friends and neighbours at the town hall Christmas reception, becoming more an integrated part of it all each year, familiar and predictable as that elf decoration the kids were so strangely obsessed with. He'd let it surround him and enjoy his part in it and some years as the business events and civic festivities died down and everyone started retreating to their own homes and insular family units, he'd feel a little empty.
It wasn't anything like those years he'd spent Christmas Eve out walking, back when he was a kid, walking until his feet nearly fell off or he got tired and numb enough to face going home. He used to stare at the houses he passed, imagining the groups of people inside them opening presents, eating, doing everything out loud instead of all the quiet that strangled his house after a storm. As an adult, he knew people were looking in from the outside all over, even when they were inside those brightly decorated houses. It was best to make the most of your surroundings and not worry about what you didn't have except when you planned on changing it. Some years he'd welcome the quiet. It was always a good chance to take a break from the hectic day to day, answer only to himself and have no one looking to him for answers either. He'd let go of the sentimental parts of it, for the most part he thought, and learned to appreciate this moment removed for what it was.
Today as he leaned back, sipping his coffee, watching a lone chickadee making its haphazard way along the fence, he tried to breathe in and hold on. Next year would be different. Win or lose, stay here or move on, begin to make changes to this town or find it changing him, he guessed he wouldn't be able to spend the day quite so simply. Likely this year would seem a blur, an insignificant blip in a line of years. There was something comforting in that.
He sat, lost in time and space, drinking his coffee and watching the black and white bird. When he finally looked at his watch, he realized he still had an hour until he had to get ready for the service and time for one small tradition. He stood to switch on the radio. Tuning the dial until he found a choir singing “We Three Kings,” he nodded to himself and stood in the doorway, staring out as he listened.
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
The room echoed with applause and a few whistles which turned to cheers as Stanley took off his flowery kerchief and waved it around in his hand. Mary grinned, grabbing his hand and Sam's as Sam reached for Sally's. Stanley took Woody's hand and they bowed as the rest of the room continued to clap.
Stanley narrowed his eyes towards the front row of the loosely organized chairs, where a few shouts could be heard interspersed with the clapping.
Mary glanced in the same direction, trying to maintain an equally stern expression, but broke into laughter after a moment. As the noise died down, she spoke again. “Thanks everyone. I think we're going to reconvene for a carol sing in a bit, but in the meantime, Santa's here and he's brought some gifts, so kids, you can visit with him in just a minute.” She nodded towards Eric, who waved his gloved hand and stood, hoisting the sack he'd been keeping beside his chair and heading over to the seat they'd decorated with twists of shiny garland. The crowd began to disperse, with some of the children going to line up, some of the adults going to get another drink or another helping of dessert, and others turning back to earlier conversations and games.
“Very nice,” said Jake, coming up to clap Stanley on the shoulder. “Definitely a top five performance.”
“Thank ya very much,” said Stanley, taking a sip of water and grinning, though his expression grew accusatory again. “But don't think I didn't hear you laughing.”
“I didn't say anything,” protested Jake. He glanced from Stanley to Mary, who was now unbuttoning the striped dress-shirt she'd been wearing over her clothes. “It was Eric. He was the one whistling.”
“Oh, I know,” said Stanley. “And I'm pretty sure it was Mimi who was calling out something about the pretty lady.”
“Well, you are quite pretty. She could do worse,” said Mary.
Stanley nodded emphatically. “I'd say they're both pretty lucky.” He held up a hand and she high-fived it.
Jake sniggered and ducked out of the way as Stanley sent a tattered songbook flying in his direction.
“Thanks for holding him,” said Mary, taking a pyjama-clad Johnny from Woody's outstretched arms. “You guys were all great!”
“Told you I wouldn't let you down,” said Woody. “I'm steady as a rock!”
Mary smiled and glanced to the nearby table where Jimmy was sitting down again. Jimmy caught her eye and looked somewhat confused but smiled back at her. “Yeah, you are,” she said quietly.
Jimmy chuckled as he watched Sam and Woody, now free from their performing and baby-holding volunteer tasks, racing across the room. He turned back to watch as some of his friends reclaimed their seats at the table.
“So, who's up for another round?” Darcy was asking, motioning at the table still strewn with playing cards.
“Another round of getting my ass kicked?” asked Bill, a wary look on his face.
“You never know. Your luck might change,” said Jimmy.
Bill sent him a sidelong glance. “We don't have any more office chores to bet. Unless you want to dip into next month's.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Come on, man, live a little.”
Darcy glanced towards Allison, who was sipping a drink, Sally leaning against her. “Deal you in?” she asked.
Allison nodded, but then glanced sideways. “Aren't you going to go see Santa, Sally?” she asked.
Sally shook her head. “That's for the kids.”
Allison looked down at her. “You're a kid.”
Sally wrinkled her nose. “Not so much as them.”
Allison chuckled. “You're still allowed to be today, you know.”
Sally leaned her chin in her hands, putting on her most serious face.
Allison sighed before smiling and hugging Sally around the waist. “Come on,” she said. “I'll go with you.”
Sally laughed and pushed Allison's arms away, but as the young woman stood to get out of the booth, she followed her.
Darcy smiled over the cards she was shuffling. Jimmy glanced over at her. “Should I go take over? Let Allison off the hook so she can catch up with the others her age?”
Darcy looked over at their daughters, but shook her head. “If she didn't want to do it, she wouldn't.”
Jimmy nodded, contemplating. “Must be a bit weird, being in between. Being sort of one of the adults, sort of one of the kids.”
Darcy smirked. “Probably. But it's nice too. She never had a sister.”
Jimmy smiled and nodded, looking down at the pile of cards Darcy had dealt him.
Bill narrowed his eyes at his cards for a few moments, then glanced up. “Hey, Gray, you playing?”
Gray shook his head with a small smile as he sat at the edge of the booth, clutching his refilled mug in his hands. Darcy and the deputies continued with their game, in that politely unnoticing way most people had been displaying as he'd encountered them today. Everyone had been kind, offering him drinks and food, asking after his health, or welcoming him back, but no one pressed him for any more details, a behaviour they'd surely adopted after so many battles and losses. He gratefully held his mug closer. His hands hadn't been too badly frostbitten (Bill had commiserated earlier but thankfully a warning glare from Mary had stopped him from showing off his own frostbite battle wounds), and it was certainly warm in the bar with the wood stove going and so many bodies moving around, but the cold haunted him still. He suppressed a shiver.
It was more than the cold. He'd spent most of yesterday at home, recuperating. Today he was surrounded by his fellow townspeople laughing, eating and drinking, playing, and talking. Yet in the gentle quiet of his house and in the jovial jumble of this party, he could still feel them. He supposed they had always been there, pressing in on them from outside, those many faces and voices of their countrymen lost, and some clinging to them from within. Individual faces sprung to his mind as he noticed the solid, noisy partygoers in the crowd. The pair of confident teens unloading presents from a box as the deputy mayor Santa passed them to kids. The black-haired baby laughing at funny faces made by his father as they stood in line. The school teacher staring down a troublemaker with that same unyielding gaze she'd had levelled at him once, before she'd seen even worse injustices.
Most days he had to forget the missing ones connected to these survivors. Working with the here and now was the best way to make sure these few might be saved. Perhaps this haunting chill would fade in the next few days as the blisters on his feet healed and his muscles recovered. Their presence would continue but he'd be able to push them away again, just enough to remember his choice. If it was a choice. He still wasn't certain there was much difference between the land of the living and the other world he'd seen, superimposed, out there in the endless white.
“Mayor Anderson, do you want a cookie?” asked a kid in glasses, holding out a plate, partway through a tour of the room.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding towards the kid and smiling as the boy continued towards the poker enthusiasts, so intently focused on their game Bill jumped in surprise as Robert Hawkins plunked down the glasses of cider he'd been balancing in the middle of the table and took a seat next to his wife.
Allison and Sally navigated around several people balancing drinks or extra desserts as they made their way over to the Santa lineup. “What do you think the present is?” asked Sally, looking up at Allison.
“I hear it's pretty cool,” said Heather, who was standing nearby.
“What is it though?” asked Sally.
“You don't want the surprise spoiled, do you?” asked Emily, passing her friend a plate with a cookie.
Allison nodded in greeting at the teachers. “Did you have a good turn out at the dinner yesterday?”
Emily nodded. “Yeah, it was a good group. Lots of lively discussion.”
“Sorry I couldn't make it,” said Allison, glancing down at Sally with a smile. “We had a tree mission.”
Emily nodded. “Success?”
“We got the best tree ever!” said Sally.
Heather chuckled. Emily smiled. “I'm thinking of having another get together, sometime in January maybe, so if you're free and want to come, you should check it out.”
“Sounds good,” said Allison. “Oh, look,” she motioned to the moving line, putting her hands on Sally's shoulders. Sally smiled. “I think it's crayons.”
“Yeah? I think it's a puppy,” said Allison. Heather and Emily laughed as the two continued towards Santa.
“Gonna make it a regular thing, huh?” asked Heather.
Emily shrugged. “I've been wondering for a while how to make it easier for them. Not easier. I don't know.”
Heather was watching Sally and Allison's progress pensively. “No, it's good,” she said. “When you're between things, starting out, it's always been hard, but it's gotta be even weirder now. I think it'll be nice to have something for them.”
Emily nodded. “I hope so.” She glanced sideways. “Do you want to come to the next one? We could do with another good role model.”
Heather raised her eyebrows but nodded. “Yeah, sign me up.” Both women kept their eyes on the line of kids, but they shared a small smile.
“So is this how it's going to be now?” asked Jake, leaning over Eric's shoulder as Bethany Cale thanked him again and stepped back to her mother. “All of you ganging up on me when I'm most vulnerable?”
Eric waved at the next kid in line and glanced back at his brother. “It was their idea,” he said, hiding a grin.
“Right,” said Jake. “And Heather and Mary knew exactly where the Star Wars sheets were I guess?”
Eric chuckled. “Made good wrapping paper in a pinch, didn't it? Personally I thought the angel garland bow on your head was the nicest touch. Took Mary a while to untangle it, so Heather had time to make the antlers for your bed posts.”
“Another bright idea,” grumbled Jake. “You guys are so funny.”
Eric feigned innocence once more, but then laughed. “I think it was Johnny's favourite part of the morning.”
Jake sighed, but looked as though he was fighting a smile. “His laugh is even louder than yours. How is that possible?”
Eric shrugged. “Hi there! Merry Christmas!” he said as Jamie Carmichael came towards him, leading his sister Laura by the hand.
Jake smirked as Eric tried to balance both kids as they climbed onto his knees at the same time. “Well you better laugh while you can, Santa.”
He made a face as Eric complimented Jamie for being a helpful big brother, but as Eric looked over his shoulder and asked him to pass the kids' gifts, Jake relented and picked up the small packages. “Ho ho ho, thank you elf,” said Eric, and Jake rolled his eyes.
“Whoa, you're an elf now too?” Lucas had appeared nearby, holding out a cookie tray. Jake looked sideways. The kid was taller than he had been on that night on the school bus, a thousand years ago now, but he still peered up with big eyes through his round glasses. The smirk suggested a bit more worldly experience though.
“Yup,” said Jake through gritted teeth, shoving a cookie in his mouth.
“Ooh!” shouted Sean, grimacing theatrically as his last dart hit the wall beside the dart board.
“Come on, two out of three,” said Dale. “You can handle another round or two, can't you?”
“And give her more bragging rights?” asked Sean.
Skylar laughed but shrugged. “Don't know what to tell you. Must be my lucky night.”
“It's Christmas, don't be a Scrooge,” shrugged Dale.
“Fine. Just wait, I'm totally going to dominate this round,” said Sean, grabbing one of the darts and winding up to take a shot.
“Whoa, watch it with those,” said Stanley, who had appeared at his side, holding up one hand over Clark's face. “We just wanted to thank Santa's helpers.” He nodded towards Skylar and Dale.
“Eight colours! Where did you score those?” asked Sean. Clark was staring down, mesmerized, at the box of crayons in his chubby hand.
“That big market in Grand Bend,” said Skylar. “We couldn't find much this year but we thought most of the kids would be into it.”
Dale nodded, but looked warily at Clark's grip on the box. “Probably didn't think about the really little kids though. Is he too young for them? I can see if we have something better at the store.”
“I'll show him how to use them!” cut in Sean. “We'll have lots of fun.” He held out his arms.
“Right now? I thought you were going to dominate this round,” said Stanley, emphasizing the last three words in what was clearly his Sean voice. Sean just chuckled and shook his head. “I'll catch up with them after. Let the queen of darts here tire herself out and then swoop in for victory.”
Skylar rolled her eyes but Dale smiled. “I'll see if Archie wants to join this round,” said Skylar. “Glad you had a good first Santa visit, Clark.”
“Say 'thank you,'” Stanley whispered loudly, and Clark, in a somewhat dazed state of grateful, chirped a few words after them.
“Wanna draw your favourite person in the whole world?” asked Sean.
“Let me guess, that must be Uncle Sean?” asked Stanley in a playfully sarcastic tone as he passed his son over to Sean.
“Mimi,” shrugged Sean, making a funny face at Clark.
“What?” asked the woman in question, who had just appeared with two drinks in her hands.
“We can get some paper from those guys over there,” said Sean, motioning towards a table where some kids were colouring with their new gifts.
“Alright,” said Stanley. “Don't detour by the darts.”
Sean made a face. “I would never let him get hurt!”
“We know,” said Mimi, reaching to briefly brush her fingers against Clark's cheek.
“No!” said Clark, squeezing his mother's hand and giggling at his favourite word.
Stanley watched them retreat with a bemused smile on his face. “They kinda look like twins in those sweaters, don't they?” Mimi raised an eyebrow. “Creepy twins, where one took skelegrow juice and one got hit by a shrink ray,” he added.
“Shrink ray?” she repeated, shaking her head. “There weren't a whole lot of yarn colours to choose from.”
“True, and red suits both of them,” he said, accepting the drink she handed to him. “Sean loves it. I saw him showing off earlier.”
Mimi smiled, looking down at her drink for a moment. She stepped closer to Stanley, leaning into his side as he put an arm around her. “Of course everyone's loving your gifts,” he said, glancing around the room. Several of her creations were now drying on the edges of tables and near the wood stove.
“Just one more to hand out,” she said, motioning towards her pocket. “In a minute.”
He nodded, sipping his drink. “Yeah, let's just stay still while we can.”
She smiled again and reached her arm around his waist, leaning her head against his chest and closing her eyes for a moment.
“So Russell, I hear you're the hero of the week!” Bill exclaimed loudly over the edge of his latest hand of cards.
“Yeah, thanks for finding our mayor,” added Hawkins, nodding as Russell took a seat at their table.
Gray turned and smiled. He was sure he'd thanked the man and his daughter, the night they had brought him to the med centre in their truck, but since it was all a blur in his mind, he couldn't quite remember the moment. Others had recounted how delirious he'd been, muttering about churches and snow battles, and it was very possible he'd welcomed Russell to planet earth or asked him for the answer to question nine on the chemistry test. Russell would understand, he was sure. So much that happened between them all, everyday, stretched beyond the limits of simple words. Sometimes, too, simple words could contain everything all at once. “Thank you,” he said, nodding at Russell.
Russell nodded back, an awkward smile on his face. “Don't mention it,” he mumbled.
They went back to their drinks and the conversation at the table. Gray only half paid attention to what the others were saying, glancing towards the nearby window. He had been watching the snow, intermittently through the evening, but now it was too dark to see much of anything. It still all felt strange, this noisy, lively room filled with hot breath, footsteps, people bumping into each other, accidentally touching arms and elbows as they navigated around each other, sides touching in their seats and holding hands, going in for hugs, sitting on laps. The air was congested with cinnamon, home brew, and wet wool, drying in the form of mittens, hats, and scarves, lining the room as they recovered from recent battle out on Main Street. The voices all around were swimming, hitting heights and depths. He'd spent most of the evening taking it in and trying to hold on.
“Gray, welcome home!” said Harry Carmichael, passing the table as Jamie pulled on his arm.
Gray raised his hands in thanks, watching the father and son make their way towards the table where Gail was supervising the song books. Everyone had been saying that. Today, for the most part, he believed it, even as the ghosts out there still beckoned and called with their distant voices. For so long, home had been a place on the road ahead and he'd figured he'd recognize it when he reached it and know when to stop. Each time he stopped though, he'd felt a pull between the road behind him and something even further on. But perhaps that was always the way. Never quite settled, never quite still, but a series of stops where you could look forward and back and find some way to be let yourself feel at ease in the moment between the people and the ghosts.
“Hey Doc,” said Mimi, hoisting herself up onto the bar stool beside Kenchy. He smiled and tilted his head. “Hello.”
“Didn't get a chance to give you your present yet,” she said, holding out a small bundle.
He began to protest, as per their usual routine, and she insisted as usual. He accepted the mittens, holding them closer to admire them in the dim light. He smiled. “Beautiful.”
“Royal blue, right?” she asked.
He slipped one of his hands into one mitten and flexed his fingers. “Thank you.”
She shrugged. “Wouldn't do you any good to get frostbite. Winters here can be a bitch.”
He nodded. “That they can. Here.” He reached for the drink he had been served and handed it to her. “To your health.”
“Now you're gonna need one,” she protested, waving at Darryl, who had taken over pouring drinks. “One more?” she asked, spotting Emily walking by. “Actually two please?”
“What? I was going to -” began Emily.
“We're toasting to health,” said Mimi, shaking her head at Emily's protest. “Darryl, you should have one too. It's a party.”
Emily chuckled as Mimi began debating with the bartender. She shrugged and sat down on the stool on Kenchy's other side. “Happy Christmas,” she said. “That's what you say right?”
He nodded. “You seem rather merry though, I must say.”
She shrugged, smiling and glancing around the room. “It's never quiet around here, is it?” she asked.
He shook his head with a chuckle. “No, it is not.”
“Okay, come on,” said Mimi, hoisting her glass. Darryl had come around the bar with a few more drinks, and Mimi had enlisted the people in the nearby table, who were holding their drinks now. “To life!” she said.
They echoed her, and she glanced at Kenchy. “To the future,” he echoed, smirking but nodding.
From his seat at the corner of the table, Gray clinked glasses with Russell and Jimmy, smiled and sipped his drink. He laughed softly as Mimi and Kenchy offered a few other bright and shiny sentiments and Emily slipped in something about the past and present. Several others around the table chimed in: to the dinner, to the fire, to the snow being over, to the walk home being warmer. Russell caught his eye and he smirked. “To you,” he said softly, nodding his head to both Russell and Hailey, who was sitting so close by her father she was nearly in his lap. He glanced towards the others. “To us!” he said a little louder. He stood, holding his glass high. “To here and to now!” They nodded, the glasses clanged, and they drank.
“If everyone's done...whatever you're doing, the carolling is about to begin!” announced Mary, motioning as several volunteers were passing out the worn booklets. “Feel free to pull up a chair or stay where you are and enjoy the surround sound.”
Gray accepted the booklet Sally Taylor passed to him, absently flipping through some of the songs as the room erupted in a flurry of activity and then started to settle once again.
After a few minutes and some false starts as Stanley, Mary, and Gail tried to decide on an opening song and direct everyone to the right page, the carolling began. The din of voices suddenly took on some kind of structure as he recognized the opening lines of “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” He didn't sing himself, preferring to focus on their voices. Voices that annoyed him, some days of the year. Voices that could break hearts. Voices he wanted to believe in.
He had never known quite what he believed, preferring to focus on the moment at hand, the problem to solve. But of all the skills that had allowed him to survive this far, believing was probably the most important. Though he couldn't often admit it, he trusted them, if he trusted anything.
He slowly stood, making his way in the dizzying warm room towards the chairs arranged in the middle of the floor, narrowly avoiding tripping over a small child on a sugar high. He sat in one of the last available chairs. Sam Hawkins was beside him, shyly singing along. Forgetting his pre-teen reputation for the moment, he leaned against his mother, who held her book so that they could both see. Gray smiled.
This was where they had all ended up and they were making it what they could. It could be anything. It would be something. He would make sure of it, and so would they, he trusted.
It didn't always seem enough, but tonight Gray smiled again.