12 Days of Frostmas: Day Four
Sorry, I forgot to put this up the other day.
12 Days of Frostmas
Day Four
December 17, 1985
“Come on, wake up, Frost.”
Jack slowly opened his eyes, his blurred vision coming into focus. The first thing he saw was a familiar face; it was Father Time leaning over him.
“Wake up, Frost,” he said.
Jack groaned and turned onto his back. “What time is it?” He mumbled.
“Almost one in the afternoon.”
“Don't shout...” Jack's head was pounding, and his tongue felt dry.
“I was not. Now, Frost get up and greet the day. I should know that it only comes once.”
Jack scrunched up his nose and attempted to push himself up, propping himself up with his elbows, then hands until he was sitting up straight. He made another exhausted sound, his face falling into his hands.
“What in Jupiter's name did you drink last night?”
Jack didn't verbally respond, but glared at the old man instead. He almost rolled off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom, partially closing the door behind him. Running water could be heard.
“What do you want? Why are you here?” Jack demanded from the bathroom.
“Frost, I am Father Time, I can come and go into any time as I wish. I'm here to remind you of your mission here.”
“Hey, you're to blame here. Christmas Eve isn't for another week. You sent me back too early.”
“No I did not,” replied Father Time, “I told you, your mission is not all about making it snow here. You have to make someone's holiday once in a lifetime. I sent you back a little early so you can plan out how you will accomplish this.”
“Yeah, I'm working on that too,” said Jack, opening the bathroom while drying his face with a towel.
“Are you? So far it seems you have only consumed alcohol.”
Jack folded his arms across his chest, “As a matter of fact, I have been spending time with a very nice man named Phil. We hung out last night. Actually, I don't even remember returning to my room though...”
“Phil took you back.”
“Ah, see? Nice guy. Wait, how do you know about him? You're Father Time, not God.”
“Oh, something significant happened -or will happen- to him in the coming year that was messed around with by some time travelers.”
Jack looked at Father Time with a knitted brow of confusion. Father Time waved his hand with a “Nevermind.”
“So what, if you two got drunk?”
“It's male bonding. I never do it, thought it would be fun,” Jack stated in a matter-of-factually way.
“Poor Phil, having to spend one of his last nights of the year with you.”
“Hey, I resent that-”
Father Time pointed a finger at him, “You do not even know what that poor man's fate is. You think just by getting him drunk will make it all better?”
“Fate? Phil has a fate? Make what all better?”
Noticing he struck a cord, Father Time decided to continue, “Next year he will lose his right arm in an accident.”
Jack was struck dumb. From what he observed, Phil was right-handed; to lose that... he couldn't begin to imagine what that would do to the nice bellhop.
A moment of silence later, Father Time sighed and said, “Well, I think it is about time I got going. Now Frost,” Jack looked up, “do not forget what we sent you here for, understand?”
Jack gave a small nod.
“By the way, it's freezing in here. If you don't want to rouse suspicion, I suggest you fix your heater,” and with that Father Time walked out the front door and closed it behind himself.
A question suddenly rising, Jack rushed to the door. He wanted to ask how Phil lost his arm, but by the time he got to the door and opened it, the hallway was empty. Father Time was gone.
Later that day
Jack found Phil in a lounge area, looking at two white boxes. Phil nibbled on his lower lip a little, his eyes darting from one box to the other. Beside him stood an undecorated green tree. A few boxes were scattered about the room. The lounge area, itself, was vacant -save Phil; holiday music was playing from somewhere.
“Hey, Phil. What are you doing?” Phil looked up over his shoulder at the sound of his name. Jack stood with his hands in his pockets.
“Oh hey, man. I was just decorating the tree here. I'm having difficulty choosing between red and silver tinsel,” Phil turned back to the boxes containing the tinsel. Jack strode over to him and looked over his shoulder at the decorations held in Phil's hands.
Jack wrinkled his nose at the red, “Go with the silver. The red is too... much. Besides, silver resembles snow on the trees and winter and cold.”
A smile spread across Phil's face, “Alright! Silver it is then!” He put down the red tinsel box and opened up the silver tinsel.
Phil turned around so he was face to face with Jack, who was no further than several inches from him. “Wanna help me decorate the tree? That is, if you're not busy. It would be much more fun if I wasn't doing it alone.”
Jack would have regularly said no, he never liked doing manual labor of any sort. However, there was a glint of eagerness and excitement of the prospect of them working together in Phil's eye. Jack's eyes briefly wandered onto the bellhop's right arm. How could he refuse?
“Why not?”
“Well, good,” said Phil before moving over to a box and opening it to reveal all sorts of ornaments. He pulled out the string of lights, first.
As the two maneuvered the string of lights around the tree, Jack asked, “Bellboys do this often?”
“Oh no, but we're short on staff this Christmas season because of the bad weather. Many went home already.”
“How 'bout you?”
“Oh, I won't be here for Christmas. I've got a plane flight on Thursday.”
Thursday was two days from then.
“Going home to your mother?” asked Jack as they started putting on the ornaments.
“Yep, my mother and my siblings are inviting over my aunt and uncle and my cousins over my mother's house.”
Wow, family. Something I've never had, Jack thought distastefully, but put on a fake smile and said, “Oh, that's nice.”
“Yep, I've been looking forward to it for a while now. You see, I was originally going to go home for Thanksgiving, but it snowed a good amount and business was booming that weekend and they needed the help here. So I stayed.”
“Uh-huh.”
The two continued to decorate the tree, Phil chatting about certain guests that have come. At one point, he asked Jack about his family. However, Jack replied, saying that he would rather not talk about it. Phil did not press any further.
They finally got to the point where they were just about done, save the topper.
“Angel or star?” asked Phil, showing Jack both. The angel had long, flowing strawberry blond hair and wore a white dress, with white feather wings. The star, on the other hand, was also a magnificent piece with five points and a white center. Santa had a star on his tree.
“Angel,” Jack replied with a small smile, an impossible thought springing to him that he had to bite his tongue to keep from saying aloud, because it's beautiful like you.
As Phil climbed up the ladder to put the angel on top, Jack had chills that made him shiver for the first time since he did not know when.
Once the piece was centered, Phil climbed down and moved the ladder out of the way.
“Would you do the honors?” he asked, snapping Jack away from his thoughts.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Plug in the lights?”
“Really?” Jack grinned ear to ear, “You want me to?” Phil nodded. Jack gave a brief, slightly nervous chuckle then walked over to the plug beside the outlet.
“Here goes nothing,” he said, plugging into the outlet and stepping back.
The tree lit up, along with their spirits. The lights were white; if one was to look at the tree in the distance, they would have said that it sparkled with snow. The silver tinsel is what really did it. The tree was complete. Jack could feel a sense of accomplishment well up inside of him.
“Thanks for this,” said Phil from beside him.
The two drank a glass of eggnog, toasting their splendid work.
That night, Jack could not stop thinking about his new friend. Turning onto his side in his bed, he thought, What is wrong with me?
TBC
12 Days of Frostmas
Day Four
December 17, 1985
“Come on, wake up, Frost.”
Jack slowly opened his eyes, his blurred vision coming into focus. The first thing he saw was a familiar face; it was Father Time leaning over him.
“Wake up, Frost,” he said.
Jack groaned and turned onto his back. “What time is it?” He mumbled.
“Almost one in the afternoon.”
“Don't shout...” Jack's head was pounding, and his tongue felt dry.
“I was not. Now, Frost get up and greet the day. I should know that it only comes once.”
Jack scrunched up his nose and attempted to push himself up, propping himself up with his elbows, then hands until he was sitting up straight. He made another exhausted sound, his face falling into his hands.
“What in Jupiter's name did you drink last night?”
Jack didn't verbally respond, but glared at the old man instead. He almost rolled off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom, partially closing the door behind him. Running water could be heard.
“What do you want? Why are you here?” Jack demanded from the bathroom.
“Frost, I am Father Time, I can come and go into any time as I wish. I'm here to remind you of your mission here.”
“Hey, you're to blame here. Christmas Eve isn't for another week. You sent me back too early.”
“No I did not,” replied Father Time, “I told you, your mission is not all about making it snow here. You have to make someone's holiday once in a lifetime. I sent you back a little early so you can plan out how you will accomplish this.”
“Yeah, I'm working on that too,” said Jack, opening the bathroom while drying his face with a towel.
“Are you? So far it seems you have only consumed alcohol.”
Jack folded his arms across his chest, “As a matter of fact, I have been spending time with a very nice man named Phil. We hung out last night. Actually, I don't even remember returning to my room though...”
“Phil took you back.”
“Ah, see? Nice guy. Wait, how do you know about him? You're Father Time, not God.”
“Oh, something significant happened -or will happen- to him in the coming year that was messed around with by some time travelers.”
Jack looked at Father Time with a knitted brow of confusion. Father Time waved his hand with a “Nevermind.”
“So what, if you two got drunk?”
“It's male bonding. I never do it, thought it would be fun,” Jack stated in a matter-of-factually way.
“Poor Phil, having to spend one of his last nights of the year with you.”
“Hey, I resent that-”
Father Time pointed a finger at him, “You do not even know what that poor man's fate is. You think just by getting him drunk will make it all better?”
“Fate? Phil has a fate? Make what all better?”
Noticing he struck a cord, Father Time decided to continue, “Next year he will lose his right arm in an accident.”
Jack was struck dumb. From what he observed, Phil was right-handed; to lose that... he couldn't begin to imagine what that would do to the nice bellhop.
A moment of silence later, Father Time sighed and said, “Well, I think it is about time I got going. Now Frost,” Jack looked up, “do not forget what we sent you here for, understand?”
Jack gave a small nod.
“By the way, it's freezing in here. If you don't want to rouse suspicion, I suggest you fix your heater,” and with that Father Time walked out the front door and closed it behind himself.
A question suddenly rising, Jack rushed to the door. He wanted to ask how Phil lost his arm, but by the time he got to the door and opened it, the hallway was empty. Father Time was gone.
Later that day
Jack found Phil in a lounge area, looking at two white boxes. Phil nibbled on his lower lip a little, his eyes darting from one box to the other. Beside him stood an undecorated green tree. A few boxes were scattered about the room. The lounge area, itself, was vacant -save Phil; holiday music was playing from somewhere.
“Hey, Phil. What are you doing?” Phil looked up over his shoulder at the sound of his name. Jack stood with his hands in his pockets.
“Oh hey, man. I was just decorating the tree here. I'm having difficulty choosing between red and silver tinsel,” Phil turned back to the boxes containing the tinsel. Jack strode over to him and looked over his shoulder at the decorations held in Phil's hands.
Jack wrinkled his nose at the red, “Go with the silver. The red is too... much. Besides, silver resembles snow on the trees and winter and cold.”
A smile spread across Phil's face, “Alright! Silver it is then!” He put down the red tinsel box and opened up the silver tinsel.
Phil turned around so he was face to face with Jack, who was no further than several inches from him. “Wanna help me decorate the tree? That is, if you're not busy. It would be much more fun if I wasn't doing it alone.”
Jack would have regularly said no, he never liked doing manual labor of any sort. However, there was a glint of eagerness and excitement of the prospect of them working together in Phil's eye. Jack's eyes briefly wandered onto the bellhop's right arm. How could he refuse?
“Why not?”
“Well, good,” said Phil before moving over to a box and opening it to reveal all sorts of ornaments. He pulled out the string of lights, first.
As the two maneuvered the string of lights around the tree, Jack asked, “Bellboys do this often?”
“Oh no, but we're short on staff this Christmas season because of the bad weather. Many went home already.”
“How 'bout you?”
“Oh, I won't be here for Christmas. I've got a plane flight on Thursday.”
Thursday was two days from then.
“Going home to your mother?” asked Jack as they started putting on the ornaments.
“Yep, my mother and my siblings are inviting over my aunt and uncle and my cousins over my mother's house.”
Wow, family. Something I've never had, Jack thought distastefully, but put on a fake smile and said, “Oh, that's nice.”
“Yep, I've been looking forward to it for a while now. You see, I was originally going to go home for Thanksgiving, but it snowed a good amount and business was booming that weekend and they needed the help here. So I stayed.”
“Uh-huh.”
The two continued to decorate the tree, Phil chatting about certain guests that have come. At one point, he asked Jack about his family. However, Jack replied, saying that he would rather not talk about it. Phil did not press any further.
They finally got to the point where they were just about done, save the topper.
“Angel or star?” asked Phil, showing Jack both. The angel had long, flowing strawberry blond hair and wore a white dress, with white feather wings. The star, on the other hand, was also a magnificent piece with five points and a white center. Santa had a star on his tree.
“Angel,” Jack replied with a small smile, an impossible thought springing to him that he had to bite his tongue to keep from saying aloud, because it's beautiful like you.
As Phil climbed up the ladder to put the angel on top, Jack had chills that made him shiver for the first time since he did not know when.
Once the piece was centered, Phil climbed down and moved the ladder out of the way.
“Would you do the honors?” he asked, snapping Jack away from his thoughts.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Plug in the lights?”
“Really?” Jack grinned ear to ear, “You want me to?” Phil nodded. Jack gave a brief, slightly nervous chuckle then walked over to the plug beside the outlet.
“Here goes nothing,” he said, plugging into the outlet and stepping back.
The tree lit up, along with their spirits. The lights were white; if one was to look at the tree in the distance, they would have said that it sparkled with snow. The silver tinsel is what really did it. The tree was complete. Jack could feel a sense of accomplishment well up inside of him.
“Thanks for this,” said Phil from beside him.
The two drank a glass of eggnog, toasting their splendid work.
That night, Jack could not stop thinking about his new friend. Turning onto his side in his bed, he thought, What is wrong with me?
TBC