Frosty Wind Made Moan

8

8

The bitter cold attacked Toby as soon as he and the old man jumped down from the chimney stack from which they had emerged. He expected the old man to pull the holly and mistletoe wand from his sleeve while the chimney stack disappeared, but the old man only stared at Toby. It made him feel uncomfortable so he blew warm air into his hands to avoid looking at the old man.

"Alright! Alright! Yeah. I shouldn't have said anything to him." He tried to ignore the old man, but that stare had a way of burrowing into his head, poking his brain. "I've probably broken some rule or something but, you know what, I don't care. That poor kid deserved someone being nice to him for once."

"I agree." Now the old man retrieved the wand from his sleeve, raised it and then stopped. "I don't know if you broke a rule or not, but it wasn't something that was supposed to happen. I expect that's my own fault. Changing things like that, it has consequences."

Toby opened and closed his mouth several times. He had expected to receive a good telling off from the old man. He had not expected the old man to agree with him. It felt a little like a triumph, beating an adult at their own game, but he doubted he could count the old man as a grown-up. He didn't know what he could count the old man as.

"Hold up. Won't he forget?" He held up his hand to stop the old man talking, but he only stared at Toby. "I'm not saying I did it 'cos I thought he'd forget. But, won't he? You said to me I wouldn't remember, back in my flat."

The old man took a deep breath and began running his fingers through the loose curls of his long, grey beard. He looked as though he were thinking long and hard about that. Toby wished he hadn't said anything. Every second they stayed up here, on the roof of the large, stately home, it seemed to get colder and colder. He began stamping his feet to try and keep warm and still the old man thought.

"Little things." The old man said that as though it explained everything, nodding his head in a satisfied way. When Toby frowned at him, the old man thought for a little longer. "Little things pass and are easy forgotten. Did you see Father Christmas, or were you still half-asleep? Gone. Forgotten. You interacted with the boy, talked to him and touched both his heart and his mind. It is not something forgotten with ease."

"Will it change anything for him, though." As the old man raised the wand once more, Toby stepped to his side, holding on to the dress, ready to fly. "I'd like to think it's changed things for him."

"Who is to say? Neither I nor you can ever know. For you, you will never find out. For me, it is beyond my knowledge." The old man waved the wand and those etherial winds reappeared, catching at skin and clothing. "But, you changed this night for him. You made this night better and I'm sure the child is thankful for even that small respite."

Toby couldn't reply. Not straight away. The winds wrapped around them, seeking out the hidden places within their clothes, teasing into pockets and down sleeves. Before he realised it, the wind had picked Toby and the old man up and they were away once more into the sky, held aloft by arms of nothing but rushing air.

He couldn't help himself as they flew away from the house. As fast as the winds carried them, as much as it scared him, Toby glared below, under his feet, hoping to see the girl. Hoping that she had managed to find somewhere, or someone to help her, but he couldn't see her. In fact, almost straight away, the snow beneath them disappeared and, instead of darkness, Toby began to see strings of lights along roads and the flash of car headlights.

They had returned from the past, back to the Christmas Eve where the old man had found Toby. Though they still hadn't reached the block of flats where Toby lived, yet. It seemed this was a once in a lifetime journey. One that Toby could never have imagined, either in real life or in a dream. He wasn't creative enough for that. Before he landed on the roof of the tower block, Toby fancied asking a few questions of the old man. Whether he answered or not was a very different matter.