Frosty Wind Made Moan

13

13

Returning back across the Earth, towards Europe and then England, appeared to take longer than it did to go to Brazil. The old man seemed as though he wanted to take his time and Toby had to admit, it looked amazing. He doubted many people, anyone else, had seen the world quite as he saw it right now. It looked like satellite images, but in real life. Or, at least, in the dream. If that was what it was.

Along the journey, the old man had grown even more silent than before and Toby had to wonder if it was because he had disappointed him. The old man had taken him on two journeys, now, to see four very different people and their experiences at Christmas time. All to teach Toby lessons. But, Toby was only a kid and these lessons seemed hard to understand.

The first two people were about cruelty, he knew that much, but then the old man had as much as said that the cruelty others suffered didn't mean Toby couldn't feel that someone was being cruel to him. The second two was about wanting things and how they were different from needing things, but then the old man seemed to show that some selfish wants were alright. It confused Toby.

"Can I ask something?" Used to the winds that whipped around them both, carrying them aloft, Toby shouted up to the old man. "You can travel in time, right? I was wondering, could you ... could you take me back to a different time? One where things were better?"

With a sweep of his hand, the old man stopped their forward movement, the holly and mistletoe wand bobbing up and down in the air as the old man conducted the wind currents. He stared at Toby and, in those strange eyes, Toby saw a deep, bottomless black. The old man considered Toby's request.

"Yes." One word, but a word that seemed to carry so much weight, as though the old man did not want to say it. "When?"

"You can only go to Christmas times, right?" Toby rubbed his nose, all the different Christmases that he could remember rushing through his mind. "Then, I think ... I think I'd like to go back to when I was ten. Yeah, that one should be good."

"Why then?" The old man weaved the wand in the air and the winds began to turn both him and Toby in a lazy circle. "Why not when you were six, or eight, or three? Why do you want to go to that year?"

Toby could think of any number of years that he could remember. Years where Christmas felt like Christmas. Where it felt like fun and everyone seemed happy. Christmases that felt warm and comforting. But, that Christmas stuck in his mind and he didn't know why. All he could remember was that the Christmas when he was ten seemed important.

"Because ... because we were all still together. Me and Mum and Dad. Even Grandma was still alive." As Toby gave his reasoning, he looked below and saw the world changing as he watched. Clouds coming and going so fast. "And because I got the best presents! I got a big tv for my room and a handheld console. I mean, it's out of date now, but it was brilliant at the time."

"Presents?" The old man's hand stopped weaving and it seemed his eyes had grown even more black. Even more deep. "You want to go back because of presents?"

Toby felt as though he had said the wrong thing. A menace hung in the air as the old man had said those words and the winds that held them up above the Earth seemed to become vicious. Buffeting Toby, the winds bounced against him and dragged him one way and then the other so violently, he thought they would toss him far away from the old man, to fall towards the ground below.

"Not just because of presents!" He tightened his grip on the old man's dress, feeling the winds pull and tug at his hair and hood of his sweater. "I promise! Not just the presents!"

The old man snorted. It didn't sound as though he believed Toby at all. Turning his head away, the old man arced his arm, outstretching it and then pointing towards their destination. They were going back to England, but an England from two Christmases ago. The last Christmas that he had spent together with his entire family.