Pond - An Inspirational Christmas Tale (1470 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 1.85 on 16 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Yes (View user info) at 2005-12-16 15:22:33 EST
Many years later, he remembered his first experience with ice... how the cutting wind stung his eyes and the snot leaking out of his numb nose made bubbles as he laughed in awe of his brother, gliding around the pond. He wished he could do that, just strap on two chunks of metal and fly. That obsession had led him to where he is now.
Jack had always said that he would teach him to skate one day but Jack never seemed to have the time for his little brother. Each winter the pond would freeze and Jack would go skate, sometimes inviting some friends, but usually he would go alone. He would follow Jack down to the pond whenever he could to watch Jack. He'd sit on an old fallen log till he couldn't feel his limbs anymore, then he'd hike back up to the house and help his mom around the house. When his brother would return from skating he'd ask Jack when he was going to teach him how to skate. Jack would brush him off, telling him he'd do it when he "had time to go out there and hold your hand" before heading out to help their father in the barn. Eventually Jack went off to college and forgot about ice skates and all those other decidedly little kid things.
One chilly winter morning after he'd finished his morning chores he decided to take matters into his own hands. He went into Jack's room and got the skates out from under Jack's bed. He slid his feet in them and frowned at how loose the big heavy skates felt. He sat on the bed thinking for a bit before deciding to go get a couple old pair of socks from his dresser. He balled them up and shoved two into each toe section of the skates. He put his feet back in them and tightened the laces till the eyelets were almost on top of each other. He stood up and wobbled for a second before he steadied himself. He took a few cautions steps and then thought his mother would not be too please if he left skate grooves cut into the wood floor. He turned slowly around, concentrating on not letting his ankles buckle sideways, and made his way back over to the bed. He took them off then tied the two sets of laces together and put them over his should, like he'd seen Jack do so many times. He put his shoes back on and headed off towards the pond.
On his way down he passed his father and told him what he was up to. His father made sure that he had completed his chores for the morning and then bid him good luck. Just as the boy was rounding the shed his father called him back, "Mr. Willard had to head into town last night and won't be back for a few days. He called and asked us to feed Sparky, so I need you to run over to their house before you go off playing." The boy's head dropped as he replied and unslung the skates form his shoulder, setting them inside the shed.
It was only a quarter mile to the Willards' place so he was down at the pond only a few minutes later than he had been planning on. He made sure the socks were firmly in the toes of the skates and again laced them as tight as they would go. He shook his foot around to see how much play there was and, satisfied, he stood up from his log and gingerly took a few steps. He had his hand on a thin branch to steady himself as he took his first few steps onto the ice... the twig promptly snapped as soon as he put some weight on it and he fell onto his butt with a dull thud and a surprised squawk. He laughed it off, made it back to the shore on his hands and knees and tried again.
It took about twenty minutes for him to make it out onto the ice that first day... but as the days got colder he got better and soon he was gliding around on his own. When he skated nothing mattered, nothing else but the ice, the air and him existed, he felt like a bird soaring high above the world. It was everything he dreamed it would be... and so much more. So when spring came and the snow melted and the pond turned back into liquid he fell into a bit of a depression. His parents noticed and made sure to keep him busy throughout the day.
As the year worn on he began pestering his parents for a new pair of skates. They'd tell him that they couldn't afford to be wasting money on foolish toys, especially since Jack's were in fine working order. He'd look at his feet and shuffle into the living room where he'd lay on his stomach and look at the old magazines his parents had, fantasizing about skating at Rockefeller Plaza in front of that big gold thing. He could even hear the angelic music of the carolers and smell the big majestic pine tree's scent, he was there.
Winter came back and he was out on the frozen pond everyday. As Christmas neared he redoubled his pleas for a new pair of skates, "But Jack's are old and starting to fall apart! I need new skates!" he would argue. His parents told him every day that they couldn't afford a new pair of skates. Finally his father told him that he would take a look at the secondhand stores in town to see if he could find any that were in better shape than Jack's. Whenever his father returned from a visit to town he would ask if he had had a chance to stop by and look. His father would frown, and tell him that he didn't have time to stroll around a store looking for skates, and that should he ever find a pair, the boy would be the first to know.
On Christmas morning he awoke with a start and ran out to see what was waiting for him. He noticed a rather large box prominently positioned in front of the few other presents He was sure it was a new pair of skates. As he rekindled the fire in the old wood stove in the corner he was daydreaming about himself down on the pond, flying around on his own pair of new white skates. He moved around the house not worrying about making too much noise, he could barely keep himself from running into his parents room shouting at them to get up, let alone try to make his wait any longer that necessary.
Just when he was about to burst, his parents finally came out of their room. His mother poured coffee for herself and his father. She made a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. He kept asking when they were going to open the presents, "As soon as we get a bit of breakfast in us we'll open them. Settle down." His mother smiled warmly at him. Finally, they all had their plates and went and sat in the living room.
He clapped his hands in excitement when they told him to go ahead and open his present. He veraciously tore into the plain red wrapping paper and tore the tape off that had been holding the lid on the box. He slowly opened the box and his face fell. His smile was lost and a look of confusion and frustration etched itself onto his face. There was no glint of steel or the soft glow of white leather but instead, fat and heavy, sat "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare" in all its glory, with Romeo and Juliet passionately kissing on the cover. His mother sensed his disappointment and quickly added that this was something for him to do when he couldn't go skating, during the rest of the year.
He got up, thanked his parents kindly for his present, took his plate over to the sink, washed it and his plastic spork, and then headed out to the pond to skate, picking the old worn skates up off the porch as he went. He blinked back tears as he crossed the lawn. While he was walking past the shed he noticed a brown patch in the snow and stooped to find the neighbor's dog, Sparky, lying dead. He picked the body up and when he realized he didn't have anywhere to take it, he put it back, and made a mental note to tell his father.
He trudged down the hill, laced up the skates and started off. At first he just stared at the ice sliding by. Eventually something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Something shining. A new pair of skates! He whirled so quickly that he lost his balance and fell. He heard, more than felt, his neck snap. There was a white cloudburst of pain followed by the gentle lull of sleep. As his last thoughts passed through his mind, a tear fell.
Sitting at the end of his log sat a brand new pair of skates glimmering in the diffused winter sunlight. Tied around them was a bright red ribbon with card attached. "Never give up. Merry Christmas. Love, Mom & Dad."
User Reviews
Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2005-12-19 00:12:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2005-12-17 02:03:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
di lietal genisu i read it whith the back of my brain in 2024 that was the year that i makde a name for myslef nto you yes, because you suck gota sass with a straw that is made of carazy.
Submitted by fried-green-potatoes (user info) at 2005-12-17 00:41:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice story.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-12-17 00:32:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Dude, I loved this.
I always smile when I see you've thrown some fiction on the board. I always expect something good and you never dissapoint.
Submitted by Magic_Monkey (user info) at 2005-12-17 00:17:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That's so sad and beautiful at the same time ...
Submitted by AlexorGM (user info) at 2005-12-16 20:42:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
good job.
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2005-12-16 19:31:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This story rocks my rockenbok.
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2005-12-16 17:02:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow. That's depressing.
But every step in life is a risk.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2005-12-16 16:20:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You should have signed up for the Ubermas competition, young man.
Submitted by HighVoltage900 (user info) at 2005-12-16 16:14:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
More of a 1.5. Good story.
Submitted by firefly (user info) at 2005-12-16 15:55:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2005-12-16 15:52:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Yes Phinch? I thought Uber could use some cheer...
I posted the first draft of this story two years ago (wow, thats crazy to see in print) and I just found the notes I made, so I thought I'd throw it up here and see how the revised version seems to people. Glad you all, er, like it. I think the new title is teh roxXorz.
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2005-12-16 15:48:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
dude?
Submitted by the_thorne (user info) at 2005-12-16 15:38:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great story, now I'm misserable....good job ( no seriously, it was really good)
Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2005-12-16 15:35:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
well that's some quality christmas cheer. well told pain.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2005-12-16 15:30:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
A most charming tale of holiday death.