View or add comments on this story
Vicky lay in her mother's lap, admiring the dance of the flames in the fireplace in front of them.
"Mum? Will Daddy be late?" asked Vicky, without averting her wide eyes from the flickering fire that cast its warm glow on her young face.
"I think so, love," admitted Sandra. She felt little Vicky's disappointment. "I'm sorry. There's a lot of snow out there, love. It's a real blizzard. Daddy won't be able to see where he's going. He might have to wait till it stops, so he can drive home safely. We want him to come back safely, don't we? Don't we, love? Don't worry, love."
The windscreen wipers were losing their violent battle with the sheets of show, until it seemed to Alex that he was looking at static on a television. Yet the only noises he heard were the humming of the engine, the regular thud of the windscreen wipers convulsing ceaselessly in front of him, and a muffled hiss of wild wind.
Alex decided to stop at the next building he passed, whether it was a shop, a house or a prison. He didn't care. He simply couldn't go on driving in these conditions. He squinted, as if that would improve his visibility through the flurries of snowflakes. He nearly drove straight past the SOS Souvenir Shop.
He brought the car to a halt at what he guessed was the side of the obscured road. He reached for his overcoat in the back seat, and pulled it on. He hitched it over his head, took a deep breath and opened the car door. He took a quick look at the small, isolated wooden cabin in front of him, with its carefully hand-painted sign and its small, opaque windows. He slammed the car door behind him and ran through the falling sky to the shop. He smiled, relieved, when he saw the 'OPEN' sign dangling from the handle of the shop door. He pushed it open.
He stepped in hastily, pulling the door closed behind him. He brushed off some of the snow that had covered him, spreading it all over the wooden floor below him. Frowning, he took off his overcoat and looked around for a place to hang it up. That's when he noticed the smiling man. He jumped in surprise, then tried to smile back, hesitating for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the gloomy light.
"Welcome to the SOS Souvenir Shop," said the man proudly. He was an old man; a slight hunch made him look shorter than he really was. He sported a wide grin, full of teeth that were a little too white. He stood across the room from Alex, in the doorway to a backroom.
"S-sorry about the snow," stammered Alex, indicating the puddle at his feet. "Uh... can I come in? I mean, I'm sorry I didn't -"
"Don't be apologetic!" laughed the man. "It's like hell frozen over out there. You did well to find us! Come, come. My wife will fix you a hot drink."
Alex sighed gratefully and walked past the shelves of neatly arranged toys and souvenirs to the backroom. He sat down in front of a crackling fire and got comfortable. The old man called for his wife, who promptly appeared, as if she had always been standing there.
"Hello Alex," said the old man's wife. It didn't occur to Alex at the time that he hadn't yet introduced himself.
They chatted for hours, until Alex's eyes wandered to one of the cabin's small dark windows and he noticed that the snow had stopped. He remembered that he had promised Vicky he would return today. He thanked his hosts profusely, made his apologies and prepared to leave. On his way out, he bought something from the shop as a gesture of thanks. A little snowglobe.
"Don't go," said the old man's wife as she handed him the change for his purchase. "There's six inches of snow out there! You're welcome to spend the night here in the warmth, dear." Alex explained that his wife and daughter were waiting for him at home, that they would be worried if he didn't go back now. The shop didn't have a telephone, so he couldn't call them to tell them where he was. The old man informed him that there were no telephones for many miles around here. Alex nodded and pulled on his overcoat.
"Please don't go, dear" smiled the old man's wife. Alex shook his head and smiled back, reaching for the door.
"Don't go," asserted the old man's wife firmly. "Don't go!"
"Please stay," implored the old man. Alex frowned. They must be very lonely, he thought. He said goodbye and pushed open the door. The old man ran up and grabbed Alex's overcoat from behind, shouting for him to stay. Alex wriggled away and ran to his car, locking the doors once he was inside. He put the snowglobe on the dashboard. He heard the old man's wife scream in desperation behind him as he warmed the car up and pulled away.
Several miles down the road, Alex's car broke down. Two days later, the policemen found his frozen body lying by the road where he had been trying to walk back through the snow to the SOS Souvenir Shop for help.
"What do you think is wrong with Mum?" asked Vicky. There was no one else in the room with her. She was talking to the snowglobe resting on her bed. "She's been crying a lot, you know."
Vicky picked up the snowglobe and gave it a shake. She watched the myriad of small white pellets swirl around inside the dome, settling on the little model of a wooden cabin and the tiny figure of a man wrapped tightly in an overcoat, trapped and frozen in the hemisphere of glass. Her Daddy had bought the snowglobe for her. That's what the man who gave it to her had said. They found it in his car. She squinted to read the carefully painted sign on the little cabin. It read: 'SOS Souvenir Shop'.
"What shall I do to make her happy again?" Vicky asked the snowglobe. "Draw her a picture? That's a good idea."
Sandra had locked herself in the next room, and she lay on her bed crying softly. She kept repeating to herself that Alex was gone forever. Never coming back. There was a knock on her door. She sniffed. She leant over and unlocked the door.
"Come in, love," she said heavily, wiping her eyes on the back of her arm. Vicky pushed open the door and thrust her drawing out to her mother. She stayed standing in the doorway as Sandra inspected the picture. It was a drawing of the three of them. Vicky, Sandra and Alex. They stood next to each other in height order, with big heads and stick bodies. Two of them wore a triangular dress. Sandra smiled and looked up at Vicky, who was wringing her little hands and looking down at her shuffling feet, waiting for approval.
"What are all those dots around Daddy, love?" asked Sandra.
"Snow," replied Vicky confidently. "Daddy told me to put it in."
Sandra's eyes welled up, and she spoke with a wavering voice through a genuine smile; "I love you so much, Vicky." Vicky looked up uncertainly, and submitted to a hug from her sobbing mother.
"Why are you-" began Vicky, but she stopped in mid-sentence. Sandra pulled away from the embrace to look at her daughter's face. Vicky stared up at her mother with wide-eyed innocence for a moment, then ran back next door into her own room.
She checked behind her to make sure Sandra hadn't followed, then she picked up the snowglobe and asked it in a whisper, "Why is she so sad?" She waited, as if expecting an answer, then continued matter-of-factly; "I get lonely sometimes too. 'Specially when Mum doesn't let me go and play in the snow with my friends, like now."
So Vicky was pleased when, the next day, she was taken back to school. All of the teachers seemed to be paying her extra attention too. Every day that week, she enjoyed her classes and looked forward to the next day of school. Every evening spent with her mourning, wearied mother made her long to go back there, to play with her happy, energetic friends. And every morning before school, she left the snowglobe behind on her bed, telling it, "Give Mum some company."
Soon the weekend came, and with it, the sun. In a bid to distract herself from her grief, Sandra suggested that she and Vicky go out to play with the snow in the park before it all melted away. So they packed a picnic and set off. Sandra noticed that Vicky had taken the snowglobe with her.
At the park they danced in the snow, ate their picnic and took a long walk to admire the frosted scenery, throwing the odd snowball at each other. Sandra relaxed a bit, and would have enjoyed herself had she not been so concerned about Vicky and her snowglobe. Several times, she saw Vicky conversing with the snowglobe, asking it for advice or showing it something. It disturbed her more than it should have done. It was probably a normal reaction to the loss of a loved one for a child her age, she thought to herself, and yet she wished Vicky would stop.
The swelling sun offered them less warmth as it descended towards the reddening horizon. They soon got cold. They packed away their things and headed back towards the car. The skin of snow sweated in the setting sun. As they began the long journey back home, Vicky chatted with her snowglobe, just quiet enough so Sandra couldn't hear. It drove her crazy.
"Shut up!" scolded Sandra. Vicky looked up in shock. Sandra bit her lip, then spoke again in softer tones. "Sorry, love, but I'm trying to concentrate on my driving. It's very distracting when you're talking in the background."
The car was silent for some minutes. Sandra immediately felt guilty and said, "Look, I don't mind if you talk to me, love. It's just very distracting when you talk to that... thing."
"I was talking to Daddy," Vicky explained. Sandra was momentarily stunned. The car jerked as her brief lapse of attention allowed the wheels to skid slightly over the hardening icy layer on the road.
"Did you say that thing was Daddy?" asked Sandra sharply, and it immediately sounded to her like a stupid question. "Is that what you meant?"
"Daddy's in here," revealed Vicky, "and he says you should be more careful driving on the ice."
Sandra felt something move in her stomach, and a lump grew in her throat. "Shut up! Alex is gone forever!" Sandra repeated. "Never coming back!" She felt a stab of pain when she thought about Vicky loving the damned snowglobe as if it were Vicky's father. Her cherished husband. Sandra was surprised by the strength of her negative emotions. What was this? Grief? Jealousy? Her lips were tight. The car tried to slip away from her again. She blinked back the tears that were forming in her eyes, leaning forward to concentrate on the road. She flicked on the headlights.
"Daddy says he doesn't like you like this," Vicky said defiantly, gripping the snowglobe tightly. Sandra felt a wave of anger take her over, and she screamed.
"Give me that fucking thing!" she roared, grabbing for the snowglobe, her eyes off the road. Vicky shrieked, calling for her Daddy, rolling herself up into a defensive ball, holding the snowglobe tightly against her chest. Sandra hit out at her little daughter, cursing, crying out for Vicky to shut up and demanding to be given the snowglobe.
Vicky was terrified, her big eyes flowing with tears and her pink mouth wailing as hard as her little lungs would allow. She curled up as tight as she could, her eyes fixed in fright on her frenzied mother.
Sandra would just have had time to avoid the tree if the tyres hadn't skidded on the ice.
Hours later, as the weather chilled to greet the dawn, Vicky woke up. She tried to move, but a lance of pain shot up her right side so she stayed still. From where she was, she could just see some snow falling through the car window. She remembered the snowglobe. She could feel it digging into her ribs. She wriggled, wincing in pain a couple of times, until it dropped to the floor just in front of her. The fake snow trapped inside the dome whirled up. She reached out her free left hand to turn the snowglobe around, so the tiny SOS Souvenir Shop was facing her. She craned her neck forward to inspect it more closely.
There, amongst the swirling snow, standing in front of that little cabin, were two tiny human figures where before there had been only one. There stood a man and a woman, hand in hand. Vicky smiled and cried softly.
View or add comments on this story
Back to top
Back to list of stories
Home
