Beware, the Snowman (8 page)

“He’s a monster!” Aunt Greta cried.

The snowman stood still and silent, watching me furiously shuffle through the
pages.

Where was that rhyme? Where?

I glanced up. “Aunt Greta—?”

She bent down and picked up a torn page from the snow. As her eyes moved over
the page, a smile spread over her face.

The wind blew her coat behind her. Her eyes were wild. The page fluttered in
her hand.

“Jaclyn, I can’t let you read the rhyme,” she said.

“You—you have it in your hand?” I cried.

“I can’t let you read it,” Aunt Greta repeated.

And tossed the page over the ledge.

I let out a shriek.

I watched the page float out over the ledge. I watched it fly up, then start
to drop.

It’s lost, I realized.

The second verse is lost forever.

The swirling wind will carry it down the mountain, down the steep drop. It
will never be seen again.

And then, I cried out again—as the wind carried the page up. Up. Back up.

And into my hand!

I grabbed it out of the air.

I stared at it in amazement.

And before Aunt Greta could grab it back, I raised the page to my face and
started to read the second verse of the rhyme out loud:

“When the snows melt

And the warm sun is with thee,

Beware, the snowman—”

“Noooooo!” Aunt Greta wailed. She dove toward me. With a desperate swipe, she
pulled the page from my hand.

And ripped it to shreds.

The snowman uttered a horrified groan. He bent. Reached out to grab Aunt
Greta.

Too late.

The jagged strips of paper fluttered to the snow.

“Aunt Greta—why?” I choked out.

“I couldn’t let you do it,” she replied. “He’s a monster, Jaclyn. He’s not
your father. I couldn’t let you free him.”

“She’s lying,” the snowman insisted. “She does not want you to know me,
Jaclyn. She doesn’t want you to know your own father. She wants to leave me
trapped in this frozen cave forever.”

I turned back to my aunt. Her face had grown stern and hard. She stared back
at me coldly.

I took a deep breath. “Aunt Greta, I have to know the truth,” I told her.

“I’ve told you the truth,” she insisted.

“I have to know for myself,” I replied. “I—I saw the last line of the poem.
Before you grabbed it and tore it up. I know the whole poem, Aunt Greta.”

“Don’t—” my aunt pleaded, reaching out to me.

But I backed up against the icy cave wall, and I recited the rhyme from
memory:

“When the snows melt

And the warm sun is with thee,

Beware, the snowman—

For the snowman shall go free!”

“No, Jaclyn! No! No! No!” Aunt Greta wailed. She pressed her hands to the
sides of her face and repeated her cry. “No! No! No!”

I turned to the snowman and saw him begin to melt.

The white snow oozed down his face and body like melting ice cream.

The black eyes dropped to the snow. The face melted, melted onto the body.
The snow poured off the round body. The tree branch arms thudded heavily to the
ground.

Slowly his real face came into view.

Slowly his body emerged from under the snow.

I stared as the snow dripped away.

And then I opened my mouth in a shrill scream of horror.

A monster!

An ugly, snarling, red-skinned monster stomped out from under the oozing
snow.

Aunt Greta had told the truth. A monster was trapped inside the snowman. Not
my father.

Not my father.

A monster… such a hideous monster!

Its head and body were covered with crusty red scales. Its yellow eyes rolled
wildly in its bull-shaped head. A purple tongue flapped from its jagged-toothed
mouth.

“No! No! No! No!” Aunt Greta chanted, still pressing both hands against her
face. Tears ran down her cheeks and over her hands.

“What have I done?” I wailed.

The monster tossed back its head in a throaty laugh. He picked the poetry
book off the snow in his scaly, three-fingered hands. And he heaved it over the
side of the mountain.

“You’re next!” he roared at me.

“No—please!” I begged.

I grabbed Aunt Greta by the shoulders and tugged her away from the ledge. We
pressed ourselves against the icy wall of the cave.

“Good-bye,” the monster grunted. “Good-bye, all.”

“But I
saved
you!” I pleaded. “Is that my reward? To be thrown over
the side of the mountain?”

The red-scaled beast nodded. An ugly grin revealed more jagged teeth. “Yes.
That is your reward.”

He picked me up in one powerful hand. Squeezing my waist. Squeezing it so
tightly I couldn’t breathe.

He picked Aunt Greta up in his other hand.

Raised us above his head.

Let out an ugly, raspy groan.

And held us over the side of the mountain.

His powerful hands swung us out over the cliff edge.

I peered down, down at the sheer drop, at the snowy ground that appeared to
be miles below.

To my surprise, the monster didn’t let go.

He swung around and dropped my aunt and me back onto the ledge.

“Huh?” I uttered a startled gasp.

The monster was staring down the ledge now. He had stopped paying attention
to Aunt Greta and me.

Struggling to catch my breath, I turned and followed his gaze.

And saw what had startled the monster. And saved my life.

A parade!

A parade of snowmen.

All of the snowmen of the village. They were marching up to the ice cave in a
single line.

Their red scarves waved in the wind. Their sticklike arms bobbed up and down as they rumbled up the mountainside.

Like soldiers, they came marching up to us. Bouncing, thudding, rumbling
forward. All identical. All scarred and stern-faced and sneering.

“I—I don’t believe it!” I stammered. I grabbed Aunt Greta’s arm.

We stared at the marching snowmen in horror.

“They’re all coming to serve the monster,” Aunt Greta whispered. “We’re
doomed, Jaclyn. Doomed.”

The snowmen rumbled up the icy ledge. The steady
thud thud thud
grew
louder as they neared. The sound echoed off the snowy mountaintop until it
sounded as if a
thousand
snowmen were marching to attack us.

Aunt Greta and I shrank back against the glassy cave wall.

We had nowhere to run. The monster blocked the cave entrance. The marching
snowmen cut off any escape down the ledge.

Closer came the snowmen. Closer. Close enough to see the anger in their
round, black eyes. Close enough to see the snakelike scars cut into their faces.

Aunt Greta and I couldn’t move. We raised our hands as if to shield
ourselves.

And then we gasped in surprise as the snowmen marched right past us.

They rumbled up to the monster. Bouncing fast. Thudding over the ice. Arms waving, dark eyes glowing.

Bounced up to the startled monster. And pushed him. Pushed him back.

The snowmen crushed up against him. One snowman. Then two. Then ten.

They crushed against his scaly, red body. Pushing him back. Back.

The monster tossed its head in an angry roar.

But the roar was smothered as a snowman rolled over the monster’s head.

Aunt Greta and I gasped in amazement as the snowmen swarmed over the monster.

Pushed him back against the cave wall.

We saw the monster’s powerful arms flail the air, thrashing wildly.
Helplessly.

And then the monster disappeared behind a crush of snowmen.

The snowmen pushed forward. Pushed hard. Pushed silently.

Like a silent avalanche.

And when they finally stepped back, the monster stood frozen, arms stretched
out as if to attack. Not moving. Frozen inside the ice wall.

A prisoner.

The snowmen had pushed him into the wall. Trapped him inside the glassy wall
of ice.

Aunt Greta and I stood trembling beside the cave entrance. We were still
holding on to each other. My legs felt weak and rubbery. I could feel Aunt Greta trembling
beneath her coat.

“What brought all the snowmen up here?” I asked her. “Did
you
do it,
Aunt Greta?”

She shook her head, her eyes still wide with amazement. “I didn’t bring them
here, Jaclyn,” she said softly. “I told you the truth. I have no magic. Your
mother and father were sorcerers. But not me.”

“Then
who
made them climb the mountain to rescue us?” I demanded.

“I did!” a voice cried.

I turned to the ledge—and saw Conrad standing there. His gray hair blew
wildly in the wind. The white wolf stood at his side.

“You made the snowmen march?” I cried. “You are a sorcerer, too?”

Conrad nodded. He gazed at the monster trapped in the ice and a smile spread
over his face. “Yes. I sent them to rescue you,” he said.

Aunt Greta narrowed her eyes at Conrad. As she studied his face, her mouth
dropped open. “You!” Aunt Greta cried. “It’s you!”

Conrad’s smile grew even wider. “Yes,” he told my aunt.

“Who—who is he?” I demanded.

Aunt Greta turned to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Jaclyn,” she said
softly, “I moved back here because I thought he might still be here. And yes, I
was right. He
is
here.”

She squeezed my shoulder and smiled at me, tears welling in her eyes. “Conrad is your father,” Aunt Greta whispered.

Conrad and I both cried out at the same time.

He rushed across the icy ledge and wrapped me in a hug. His long beard
scratched my face as he pressed his cheek against mine.

“I don’t believe it!” he cried, stepping back with tears in his eyes. “It’s
been so many years—I didn’t recognize you, Jaclyn. I’m so glad that Greta
brought you back to the village.”

“You—you’re
really
my father?” I stammered.

Conrad didn’t have a chance to answer. Rolonda and Eli came running up to us.
“Are you okay?” they cried.

Conrad pointed to Rolonda and Eli. “They saved your lives!” he told Aunt
Greta and me. “They told me that you planned to climb to the ice cave. As soon
as I heard that, I worked my magic. I sent the snowmen up to rescue you.”

“Wow!” Eli exclaimed, seeing the monster frozen in the ice. “Look at that!”

“That was the evil snowman,” Conrad explained to them. “He’ll never threaten
the village again.”

Rolonda and Eli stepped closer to view the frozen monster close up.

I turned to my father. “I don’t understand,” I said. “Why did you stay behind
in the village when Mom and Aunt Greta left? Why do you live up here near the ice cave?”

He scratched his beard and sighed. “It’s kind of a long story. When you were
little, your mother and I were practicing powerful magic. Our magic got out of
control. We accidentally created this monster.”

He motioned to the monster and shook his head. “We froze the monster inside
the body of a snowman,” he explained. “Your mother—she wanted to leave. She
was so frightened and upset. She wanted to move as far away from the village as
she could. She wanted to forget it ever happened.”

“And why did you stay?” I demanded.

“I stayed because I thought I owed it to the people of the village,” he
explained. “I owed it to them to keep the snowman in his cave. To keep him from
harming people.”

He uttered another sad sigh. “And so I stayed up here, close to the monster
we created. But… but… leaving you, Jaclyn, was the hardest thing I ever had
to do!”

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Again, his beard scratched my face.

“I always dreamed that someday I could leave the mountain and go find you,”
he said softly. “And now the monster is dead. The horror is finally over. And
Greta has brought you back. Perhaps…”

His voice broke. He smiled at Aunt Greta and then at me. He took a breath and
tried again. “Perhaps… we can try to be a family again.”

He kept his arm around me as we turned to go down the mountain.

“Hey—!” I cried out as I saw the snowmen move to block our path.

In all the excitement of finding my father, I’d completely forgotten about
all the snowmen!

Now they circled us. Surrounded us.

Staring at us with their glowing coal eyes. Staring at us so coldly.

“Wh-what are they going to do?” I stammered.

Before my father could answer, one of the snowmen came thumping out of the
group. He rumbled up to us, arms twitching, eyes flashing.

I grabbed Dad’s arm. The snowmen had us totally surrounded.

Nowhere to move. No chance to run away.

The snowman stopped inches from my father—and opened his mouth to speak.

“Can we go back down now?” the snowman asked. “It’s really
cold
up
here!”

Scanning, formatting and basic
proofing by Undead.