After the first stories were submitted for our family's new writing group, we had so much fun that we decided to do a second round. We gave ourselves three months to write another story, and we had nearly double the amount of participants this time! My story was about a mysterious snowman who terrorizes the father of a small family. I'm sure this plot had nothing to do with the fact that my kids were little and I was constantly worried about them. ;-)
The Snowman
by Rusty Keele
Johnson smiled, inhaled deeply, then opened his eyes. It was just before dawn and the room was only beginning to get light. Next to him Marianne was breathing slowly and deeply – still asleep. Carefully peeling back the covers he slipped out of bed. He put his robe on, glanced at the bright red 6:13, then pulled the door shut as he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. After starting the coffee maker he went into the parlor and opened the front door. He was greeted by four inches of fluffy new snow in his yard. Bending quickly he retrieved the plastic orange bag that held the morning paper.
Back in the kitchen he removed the bag, unfolded the paper on the counter and proceeded to look it over. He scanned the major headlines then pulled out the weekend entertainment section. He skimmed some of the articles before deciding to let some more light into the house. He walked out of the back of the kitchen and down the two steps that dropped into their patio-turned-family room. He snaked his way past the couches and big screen TV to the curtains. He yanked the cords that pulled them open and was surprised to see that there was a snowman in the backyard, just twenty yards from the glass. It was a perfect snowman – three distinctly round sections, small pieces of coal for the eyes and smiling mouth, a crisp carrot nose, a couple of small limbs for the arms and a bright red crimson scarf wrapped around its neck. As ironic as it was for a scarf to be on a snowman, it was that piece that betrayed its maker - only Ryan had a scarf like that. He must have made the snowman last night before going to bed. Johnson scanned the patio, the grass and then the whole of the backyard, but any footprints had long been covered by the falling snow.
He looked beyond the snowman to the woods. There was an eerie calm about the barren trees as they stoically held their snowy burden. The big soft flakes continued to fall with no sign of letting up. The sky, gray and dreary, had restricted visibility to the edge of the woods. There were no signs of life anywhere – no birds, no animals, no neighbors... nothing.
After scrutinizing the depressing weather, Johnson looked once more at the snowman's perfect face, then turned and started back towards the kitchen. He immediately smashed into the heavy oak coffee table. His toes and shin screamed with pain. He hopped and limped to the couch where he grimaced in pain until his eyes stopped watering. He wondered how the coffee table had gotten there. He didn't remember passing it – or even seeing it as he made his way to the curtains. It had been dark, and he figured he was lucky to have missed it the first time.
When he could walk again, he limped back to the kitchen and poured himself a steaming mug of coffee. He resumed reading the paper while still standing on one leg.
"Hello" a voice said.
Startled, Johnson spilled some of his coffee. It was Haley, his ten year old daughter.
"What are you doing up?" he asked her.
"I heard a noise, and couldn't get back to sleep."
"That was me... trying to break my leg." he said, half smiling. He knew better than to try and send her back to bed. She had always been a light sleeper, and her mind was far too active for her to fall back asleep now.
"C'mon," he said, "let's go watch TV for a little while."
He grabbed his paper and they walked down into the family room. He turned on some morning cartoons, and then dragged the coffee table back to its place by the couches.
"Daddy, did you make that snowman?"
"No, I think Ryan did."
"No, he didn't. He's not here."
"I know, he must have made it last night."
"No, daddy. He's gone, remember? He's out of town for the competition. He left yesterday morning."
Johnson stood up and slowly turned to look at the snowman. It was closer to the house now. He walked to the window and studied its cold coal eyes. "Hmmmm..."
Suddenly his over sized coffee mug slipped out of his hand and crashed to the floor. Just missing his feet, the mug shattered into a thousand pieces as it hit the edge of the door's railing. The steaming coffee, however, did not miss his feet and he staggered sideways unable to stop his stumbling reaction. Many of the glass pieces found their way into the soft skin of his feet as he stumbled away from the window. Finally he staggered out of the trap and fell to his knees.
Haley started to come toward him, a concerned look on her face.
"Stay there!" he commanded through gritted teeth. She stopped in her tracks. With his feet burning, he rolled onto his back and grimaced with pain.
***
Needless to say, the coffee mug incident had brought the household's remaining sleeping residents to the family room. After assuring everyone – including himself - that he was alright, he crept upstairs to tend his wounds, shower and get ready for work. When he returned Marianne had finished picking up all the big pieces of glass. He retrieved the vacuum and finished cleaning up the little ones. When he was done he realized that he hadn't even eaten... or finished reading his paper. He would have to make do with something small and quick now. Returning to the kitchen, he grabbed a cinnamon roll and bottle of milk. As he turned to grab his paper he realized that Haley had left the TV on. He rushed back into the family room and retrieved the remote control from the coffee table. As he clicked the TV off and turned to leave he noticed something peculiar – the snowman, who had previously been several yards from the window, was now standing just a few feet from the sliding glass door.
"What in the world...?" he muttered. He took a few steps toward the glass, then stopped. Goose bumps were spreading across his arms and neck. Not only had the snowman moved, but its appearance had changed also. Its arms were now at its side, twiggy hands on snowy hips. Its head was leaning slightly forward, and the smile had been replaced by a thin melancholy line.
With a burst of anger and panic Johnson rushed forward and threw open the sliding glass door. He stepped out and looked all around. Careful not to get too close to the snowman, he searched for any signs of who had done this. There was nothing. The big fluffy flakes continued to fall... perhaps they had covered up the prints. The snow didn't seem to have accumulated much, though, still just four inches on the ground. How could that be? Hadn't it been snowing heavily all morning? It must be too wet to pile up, he thought.
"Dad. I'm ready." It was Haley. She was still in the house, just inside the sliding door. She didn't come out, but looked slowly back and forth from the snowman to Johnson.
"Didn't he used to be over there?" she asked, pointing beyond him.
"Yeah. I think someone's playing a joke on us Haley." He looked around again, there were still no signs that anyone had been there. "C'mon, we'd better get going." He gave the snowman one last look, then started back. His foot caught on the edge of the cement and he stumbled forward a few steps struggling to keep his balance - then fell headlong into the thick glass window. There was a loud crack and he ended up on his hands and knees. Something warm was dripping over his left eye. He wiped his brow, and saw the blood on his hand. Feeling sick he looked up through the blood and glass at Haley – her hands were over her mouth, her eyes wide with concern. Johnson's eyes rolled back into his head, and he sank onto his side.
***
When he returned from work, Johnson entered the kitchen from the garage and dumped his keys and briefcase on the counter. Still in his coat he leaned on the counter, sighed, and rubbed his eyes for several minutes. Finally he pulled off his coat and stepped into the family room. Tyler and Haley were doing homework, the TV was on in the background. He set his coat on the back of the couch, and glanced at the sliding glass door. There was a spider web crack in the bottom half of the window – reminding him of a shattered windshield. He looked for the snowman, and was surprised to find that it was now just inches away from the window. Its hands were by its eyes, as if peering into the house. It definitely wasn't smiling. Johnson walked a few steps closer to the window, then stood staring at the snowman. Eventually he turned towards his kids, whose eyes had moved away from the snowman – back to their father.
"Has he been there all day?" he asked.
"No," said Tyler. Then pointing, "He's been over there, the same place he was this morning."
"Well how did he get over here then?" snapped Johnson.
"I don't know, dad."
"Did he just waltz over to the window? Because that is sure what it seems like!" Johnson was yelling at both of them now. "Are you guys moving him? Because if you are... I swear... it will be the last thing you ever do!" he continued through clenched teeth.
Their eyes downcast and expressions hurt, Johnson bit his tongue and held back saying everything else that was bottled up in him. Instead he quickly turned and walked out of the room.
Two minutes later he was back, this time carrying Tyler's aluminum baseball bat. He reached the sliding door and slung it open with ferocity. As he stepped out onto the patio the motion light flicked on. The kids were easily able to see their father attack a motionless snowman. He started with the head – thumping away chunks of snow until it was unrecognizable, then blasted it off with a home run swing. He didn't stop there though, he continued in a mad rage of fury – beating the snowman down until there was nothing left but a small lump of icy snow. Johnson hurled the bat into the backyard and then turned and kicked the lump away too.
When the deed was done, he stood there panting and looking very much like a convicted criminal. He turned his head sideways and shot an icy glance into the living room. Taking that as a cue, both kids got up off of the couch and went to their rooms. Johnson walked back inside the house, slammed the sliding door shut, and went up to his bedroom.
***
Despite the fact that he slept for twelve hours, Johnson still felt drained on Saturday morning. Everything had gone wrong yesterday, and he couldn't see how today would be any better. He had no desire to get out of bed. He lay there for a long time as the last vestiges of his energy and enthusiasm slipped away. When he finally dragged himself out of bed and forced a robe on, he trudged grumpily downstairs - content to let the others see how bad he felt. He grabbed an empty mug and made for the coffee. There was only a tiny bit of sludge left, and it was cold. He wanted to scream and throw the coffee pot against the wall – instead he curtly slammed it on the counter and let his head and shoulders sag. Everything was going wrong.
He heard footsteps come up out of the family room and stop just a few feet away from him. He glanced sideways. It was Haley, she had another of those worried looks on her face.
"What's wrong with you?" he snapped.
Fighting back tears she turned and quickly made her way up the stairs. She was soon followed by Tyler – though he didn't stop to look at his father.
After several minutes, and several deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to go into the family room. He found Marianne standing by the couch with her needlework in her hands and staring intently out of the back windows. She was breathing more deeply and quickly than usual. Johnson slowly raised his eyes. The snowman was back – just a few feet from the window - and was looking right at him! The look on its face was not a happy one – it was a look of determined revenge.
The deep depression he had been fighting all morning descended on him like a poisonous cloud. He felt utterly defeated.
Marianne turned when she heard him. "It wasn't there until just a moment ago." she said. "I've had the curtains open all morning... and it wasn't there Johnson. I don't know where it came from."
She looked back towards the snowman, then walked to the sliding door, but didn't open it – or even get close enough to touch it. She pursed her hands against her lips – a sign that she was both deep in thought and scared.
"There aren't any foot prints" she said quietly.
Johnson moved behind her. "Has it been snowing like this all morning?" he asked. The sky was still dreary and gray, and he could barely see the trees.
"Yes."
He lowered his voice, "Why hasn't the snow gotten any deeper...?"
"Mom," it was Tyler. He was standing in the kitchen above the steps. "I'm ready to go."
Both Johnson and Marianne turned at the sound of his voice. He looked at his wife now.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To get Ryan" she said. She looked sick.
He had forgotten that they were all going to pick up his oldest son today. "I don't want to go" he said.
Her jaw dropped slightly, and she gave him one of those I-can't-believe-you're-doing-this looks. "Okay...whatever." she said, shaking her head.
She started walking towards the kitchen and then stopped and turned back towards him. "Just make sure you...." the words trailed off as she stared past him, a look of shocked surprise on her face.
Johnson slowly turned around, afraid of what he was going to see. The snowman had changed positions – its arms were by its side in some sort of fighting stance. It had turned its head so that it was looking directly at Johnson. His face went pale, "Oh, no..." he said.
***
Johnson spent the rest of the day in the family room. After an hour or two of standing, arms crossed, in front of the window and intensely watching the snowman he finally allowed himself to sit on the couch – but he never took his eyes off of it. He didn't even realize that Marianne and Tyler had left. Nor did he notice that Haley had stayed behind. His wife, worried about his mental health, had asked Haley to stay and keep an eye on her father. Several times Haley tried to talk to him, but he brushed her off with a scowl, and continued to stare out the window. As near as she could tell the snowman didn't move for the rest of the day.
***
Finally Haley went in one last time to try and roust her dad.
"Dad, I'm tired."
"Go to bed then." he said, glancing at the the clock. It was 11:13.
"I'm... too scared." she said, her eyes locked on his. "Will you come with me?"
He sighed, closed his eyes and rubbed them. Then he remembered and quickly removed his hands to look at the snowman. Nothing had changed. He stood up to stretch. "Yeah...okay...let's go."
After waiting until she fell asleep in her bed, he made his way across the hall to his own room. He didn't even undress – he just flopped on the covers and pulled the comforter around him.
***
"Dad?".... "Dad!"
Haley was shaking him.
He started awake. "What?" he gasped in exasperation. The clock said 2:13.
"There is somebody downstairs" she said.
"What? Who?"
"I don't know, but I can hear someone moving around." she whispered.
Johnson sat bolt upright in bed. "That monster! He's actually in our house now!" He bounced off of the bed and started toward the door, stopped, thought for a minute – then made his way to the closet. He carefully slid the closet door open. Standing on his tiptoes he reached up onto the shelf. He grabbed a metal box and carefully brought it down. After laying it on the floor he walked into the master bathroom. A moment later he came back, knelt down and unlocked the box. He opened it slowly and pulled out a 9mm handgun. He took a few moments to load the bullets – then he was ready. He held it close to his chest as he stepped to the door frame. He put his back to the wall and then... he noticed Haley looking up at him – her eyes wide.
"Don't leave me here!" she pleaded.
"You're not coming with me." he said.
Her eyes were shining, tears were starting to stream down her face. He realized that if she didn't come her crying might jeopardize him. "Okay!" he finally said, "But you have got to be quiet! Can you do that?" She nodded and wiped her tears.
He spun through the door with the gun in front of him, and then carefully made his way to the stairs. Haley was right behind him. He couldn't make out any thing from the top of the stairs, so he began his slow descent. As he reached the kitchen he slowly turned the corner and looked out the rear window. There in the moonlight and falling snow he saw the snowman – an evil smile on its face.
Johnson sighed and dropped his arms. He put his gun on the counter and made his way down into the family room. Haley followed him.
They arrived at the windows and just stood there staring out at the moon-lit snowman. Johnson was actually surprised that it wasn't in their house.
"Well Haley, I guess that we can..."
"Don't move!" shouted a voice behind them.
Despite the warning Johnson turned around. There in the kitchen, at the top of the stairs, was a woman dressed in black clothing. She looked to be in her mid or late twenties. In her hand, pointing right at him, was Johnson's gun.
His shoulders sagged as he let out another deep sigh. He put his hands over his face and then pursed them to his lips. "Let's all stay calm..." he said awkwardly..
"Shut up!" shouted the woman. "What kind of stupid idiot leaves his gun on the counter? Huh!" The rage in her face was getting stronger. "Why didn't you just stay in bed? All I needed was some money, and I would have left you alone! See what you've done?"
Her quivering arm half lowered the pistol. Johnson slowly began to move towards her.
"Listen, " he said, "why don't you just give me that and we can all..." Her arm snapped back up and he recognized her intent. He knew she was going to fire – and she did. He immediately twisted his upper body sideways and fell backwards in an attempt to escape the bullet. He succeeded – it whizzed past only inches from his chest. It only took a fraction of a second for him to realize what would happen. He turned his head and saw the bullet slam into Haley.
She was thrown backwards onto her back. Without checking to see what the intruder was doing Johnson pushed himself off of the floor and half leapt half stumbled to his daughter. She was screaming hysterically. The right shoulder of her nightgown was already soaked with blood. There was so much that he couldn't tell how bad the wound was. A quick glance back told him that the intruder had departed - and there was no sign of the gun. He took his shirt off and held it against Haley's shoulder, then ran for the phone.
***
Johnson was sitting on the couch again. He had been there ever since they returned from the hospital that morning. Amazingly, the bullet had only grazed Haley's shoulder. After hours of red tape he had finally brought her home to sleep in her own bed. She had been there for a few hours now.
He could not let the snowman out of his sight. He watched it intently – hardly daring to even blink. This gave him plenty of time to think... and brew. He knew the snowman was the cause of all the recent accidents. He knew the trend was getting worse. He also knew that the snowman was torturing only him. It didn't take him very long to realize that since the snowman wasn't going anywhere, maybe he needed to remove himself from the picture.
This thought stirred around and around in his mind. Finally he could see no other way. He rubbed his eyes long and hard – then checked the snowman again. It hadn't moved. He pulled himself up off of the couch and made his way determinedly to his room, only to find that the closet was still open and the gun case was on the floor.
He sighed then sat on the corner of his bed. He had been sure that taking himself out was the only answer, but he had forgotten that last night's intruder had made off with his only gun. His face grew dark, and in a fit of rage he picked up the box and flung it against the wall. It made a loud thump and fell onto his bed. Johnson sank to the floor with his back to the wall. He put his face in his hands and wept bitterly.
***
Crying had done him good, he felt more calm - and more resigned to accept fate. He made his way down to the shattered sliding door – and stood looking at the snowman. It had moved again. It had turned to face the door and was now in the perfect position to greet someone should they venture to come out of it.
He gingerly pushed the fragile door open. He stepped out onto the patio and stood facing the monster.
"I don't know what to do. Take me if you want, but please leave my family alone."
There was no change in the snowman. He waited a few minutes to see if anything would happen. Nothing did.
"Well... okay. That is my deal. I'll do whatever you want." He looked around. The snow was still falling, and was still only four inches deep. It was the perfect kind of snow for making a snowman – light and a little bit wet.
"Here... I'll start by making you a mate." He looked for a sign from the snowman, and then sarcastically said "Maybe that will cure what ails you."
Johnson walked a few steps onto the grass. He bent over and grabbed a handful of snow, which he shaped into a tight snowball. He padded it with a few more handfuls, then set it down and began to roll it around.
***
His snow-woman wasn't as expertly made as the snowman that stood just two feet away from it, but it was okay considering it was made by someone who hadn't made a snowman in twenty years. It was slightly shorter and less robust than the snowman. He had also padded it with some nice snow breasts – just to make sure the snowman understood.
He was exhausted and freezing. He went back into the house and closed the sliding door. He grabbed one of the blankets off of the couch, and flopped down on the cushions. He took one last look at the snow couple, and truly hoped that the snow-woman would make life better – for both of them.
***
The ringing doorbell awoke Johnson. He sat upright and rubbed his eyes. It was afternoon now. The doorbell rang again. He got up and turned to go answer the door. He caught sight of the snowman once again. All the care he had taken in making a perfect mate had been for nothing – she was gone. There was a small pile of slushy snow where she had been. The snowman looked angrier than Johnson had yet seen – and it had moved again. This time its body was facing the remains of the snow-woman, but its head was turned so that it was glancing sidelong at Johnson. There was something else... something different. The snowman had been ... what? Hurt? Bruised? Damaged was probably the best word. Its head had several dents in it, as did its body. It had been beaten with something blunt and soft. Johnson wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but his eyes widened as he realized that the snow-woman must have done this.
The doorbell rang again. Now he turned and bounded to the front door. A group of four girls and one woman were making their way back towards the street. They turned when they heard the door open. It was Haley's Brownie Troop, and their leader, Kay.
"Oh! Hello Mr. Rushe," she said, "we heard the awful news about Haley, and just wanted to see if she was okay. Is she alright?"
"She's fine. The bullet just grazed her shoulder. She's sleeping now, we should probably let her get some rest."
"Of course. Well... sorry about that. Please let us know if there is anything we can do."
"Thank you." he said. He closed the door and leaned against it. He was still thinking about what he had seen on the patio. The snow-woman had to have damaged the snowman. If she could do that, then what would more do?
His face brightened and a small smile appeared. He quickly turned and opened the door again. They were all just getting in the car. "Wait!" he called. "I know what you can do!"
***
He explained that Haley loved snowmen, and it would really cheer her up if they would help him make some for her. He led them through the house and onto the back patio. He tried to ignore the fact that the house was in terrible condition. There were blood stains on the carpet, and the sliding door was still shattered. He tried harder to put on a happy face when they all commented on the evil looking snowman. "Well, " he said, "I'm not finished with him yet. Don't touch him!" He had to warn one of the girls. "I'll fix him good... after you all leave."
He pointed out the spots and instructed them to make the biggest, toughest snowmen they could think of. They did well too – a couple could have passed for bodybuilders. Before they left he ran back into the kitchen. He yanked open the drawers looking for any thing that could be used as a weapon. Ice pick, butcher knife, rolling pin – he grabbed them all – and more.
He ran back outside and hastily thanked the group. "Please... go around the house as you leave." They stopped before completely rounding the house and watched as Johnson armed the new snowmen with all sorts of kitchen utensils. He noticed the girls watching him. "Thank you for your help – I'll be in touch with you later. I'm positively sure Haley will appreciate what you've done. Now go!" He made a shooing motion with his hands.
When the new snowmen were sufficiently armed, he slowly backed into the house – careful not to take his eyes off of the snowman. Once inside he pulled the sliding door closed and surveyed the entire scene again. Satisfied, he returned his gaze to the snowman's face. There was a new expression – something like fear. Johnson smiled a bitterly savage smile, waved at the snowman, then pulled the curtains closed.
He heard a thump, then another, then something like a snowball hit the glass. He chuckled sarcastically, sighed, then made his way up to Haley's room.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed. The window blind was up, and there was sunlight streaming into her room. Outside the snow had stopped. She smiled when she saw him – even though he looked bad. He sat next to her on the edge of the bed and gave her a big hug. Johnson smiled, inhaled deeply, then closed his eyes.
The End
This story copyright © 2006 Rusty Keele. All rights reserved.
