"No, that was the year you brought Jennifer home and she spilled the eggnog all over Wendy's copy of Peter Pan!"Sam explained to Brock , Brock argued softly that it wasn't Jennifer who spilled the eggnog ,it was the cat. and actually, it was not the same Christmas that sam was talking about which was the christmas hey tried to put me in the dryer to see if i'd shrink like their underwear. They argue about this everytime we go home for christmas.
I watched the snow fall softly against the fogged window: gently reaching out as if to touch the flakes and paint a picture in its reflection. I've found myself unable to look away from the runway , completely indulged in the thought that a couple of simple snow pellets could delay something as big as an airplane and hoping that it wouldn't happen to our flight to new York . flights to michigan and maine have both been cancelled in alittle less than an hour.
I looked away from the window, now staring at my feet, seeing how the light red fabric was fraying near the soles. My older brothers Brock and Sam used to tell me that wearing shoes the color of my hair was risky ,especially since the soles are always falling apart ( I shift back and fourth on them ,due to nervous habit) . they are worried that people will notice my red hair and then notice my red shoes and make jokes about my soles being frayed and red heads not having souls.
I was examining the strings that stuck out randomly, like the ends of my hair, when I saw a gray shadow slink slickly acrossed my converses warn out tips. The shadow didn't just moved past me as if it were the shadow of person, holding loosely onto its creator but, danced like it was its own entity. Its slimey looking tentacles slid vividly and dramaticly over my shoe and against the deep blue carpet of the air port. The shadow leapt across the floor spinning against and caressing the legs of sleeping children and frusterated adults jusst waiting to go home. The shadow seemed to have an important destination. I watched it closely as it made its way to one pair of feet in particular, it latched on to the girls heels and took shape of its host. I looked up hoping to see the reaction of the girl it had attached to, as if she would reach out and pet it saying "good boy" like the slinking shadow were a dog. But the girl didn't notice, in fact she didn't notice much at all, her eyes were fixated directly on me. The moment stopped and the dull roar of a landing plane whooshed somewhere far behind me. It seemed like an eternity,as she stared at me . she looked into my eyes like she'd seen me before.she looked at me so deeply I started to feel uncomfortable, like I had ripped out my soul and placed it before her. I quickly looked away, suddenly aware of the loud beating of my heart,
"WENDY!!!" Both Brock and Sam yelled at the same time.
"Have you been listening to a single thing I've said?" Sam looked intently at me. I could tell he was upset and worried that my attention had drifted from him and his Christmas stories so quickly.
"Yeah, Sammy. Sure." I said brushing him off. Every trip we took, going home for any holiday, was filled with Sam and brocks reminiscence of the year before.
"Do you guys ever get tired of thinking about Christmas this much?" I guess I was just being a scrooge; Christmas hasn't been the same for me since mom died.
This was always our holiday. Mom and I would make cookies and eggnog and wrap the boys and dads presents together, while they played out side in the glistening snow with the neighbor kids.
About a year ago mom got sick, complaining of a massive headache and a dark shadow that felt like it was tugging at every happy part of her. She called it a shadow lurker because it calmly rested in the dark parts of her mind until she slept .She told me that when she slept her happy places were vulnerable, open for attack. That is why in the last few days of her life she refused to sleep, she just wanted to be happy with me. Thinking now, that's what the shadow that slipped across my foot reminded me of. The shadow lurker. internally I kind of prayed to god, that I wasn't sick like my mother.
