A Letter to the Giftmaker - Chapter 19

Edwin stared down at the small golden circle of light that spread out from him. The light from his lantern reached about ten feet out before fading quickly into darkness. His whole world was those ten feet around him, with curves in the road slowly fading in from gray before disappearing behind him.

Jo walked next to him. His footsteps were slightly slower than Edwin's, due to his long legs. Occasionally there was the faint swish of a red coat or the hissing friction as he rubbed his hands together for warmth. Otherwise, they were just two dark forms walking in a puddle of light.

The lantern grew heavy again and Edwin switched it to his left hand. He had to hold it high and slightly back so as to not blind himself. The strange angle combined with the ever dropping temperature was making his arm and shoulder ache.

Time and distance had begun to lose all meaning in the seemingly eternal darkness. How long had they walked since they had left the church? It felt like an hour, but it could've been less. Out here, there was only the faint glow of the moon behind the thick clouds in the darkened sky.

Everything had gone so wrong in the last forty-eight hours. It had seemed great when the wishpaper had blown out of an alley and landed at his feet. Like all his prayers and wishes had been given an immediate and perfect answer. How easy it had seemed then.

His finger closed on the glossy parchment in his pocket. He could feel the holes in it. Some clean from scissors, others jagged from tearing. He knew there were still so many things on there for him, but he could not stop the ache from what he'd given up to get here.

The road tilted back. In reality, they were probably starting up another hill, but in this world of black with no point of reference, it was as if gravity shifted, pulling him forward towards the frozen gray dirt.

He could hear Harriet's breathing deepen as they climbed. His mind was at war with itself over her. He was furious at her for all the trouble she had caused, and even more so once he learned she never even should have been there.

But another part reminded him that she was only human. He had made as many, if not more, mistakes in his short life as well. He would forgive, perhaps had already begun to do so, but his anger still simmered in his heart.

Next to him, Jo fell back. "Wow!"

Edwin paused. "What?"

The ground had leveled out as they reached the peak of the hill. His own breathing had quickened and he stopped as well to take a few deep breaths. The cold bit at his lungs.

"Look."

Edwin had been so focused on the ground, on not tripping over a muddy ridge or falling in a frozen puddle, that he had not noticed that the skies had cleared off to the east. Now, from the top of the hill, he was able to look down on the landscape before him.

Through the gap in the clouds, the nearly full moon shone down onto the hills. The silvery light sparkled off the snow and made the whole of the earth look like it was glittering. The arctic smell of fresh snow hung in the air.

Tiny pinpricks of golden light marked farmhouses across the long view. A rough shape a few miles back was surely the church they had left, now just a gray lump on a hill. The charcoal-black trees grasped towards the moon with bare branches, each desperate to be the first to reach it.

Time, once passing so quickly and frantically, seemed to stand still. The wind, which had been building, calmed and everything was silent. His jaw was slack and his hand reached out towards the view, wanting to roll up the hills like a blanket and take him home with him. For just a few minutes, it was just the three of them staring out at this view.

A few flakes spiraled past him, briefly lit from the lantern before disappearing into the night. A gust of wind warned of the coming snowstorm, breaking the spell the view had enchanted him with. His eyes burned from the cold and he blinked for the first time in several minutes.

"We should keep going," he said softly so as to not startle the other two.

Jo nodded and Harriet squeaked something that sounded like agreement. They turned and started down the hill, away from the view. But in his head, Edwin desperately catalogued each detail. He wanted to remember that view for the rest of his life.

Ten minutes later, they reached the top of the next hill. He turned to look, but the moon was behind the gathering clouds again. The once pristine, sparkling landscape was now just like a bucket of tar.

Off to his right, though, a large building stood amongst a forest of pine trees. A long, gently curving entrance drive curled from the house and down to a gate at the bottom of the hill. The Giftmaker's estate was there, the main gate and mailbox only two hundred yards away.

And then he saw it. A figure carried a large mail bag as it walked up the drive and away from the gate.