Gideon's Work
This was written because ysabetwordsmith ponsored a paid extension to one of her pieces and I wanted to write this one too. It follows on from Christmas Is About Family.
It was half past seven on Christmas Eve when Gideon’s Mum called out, “Gideon, Ljars is pulling up out the front! Are you ready?”
“Yep, just about.” He emerged from his room, having relocked his wardrobe. He was dressed in soft leather, the pieces sufficiently matching that it looked like it might be a uniform. He also looked warm, and he was still carrying his hat and gloves.
“You’re a bit overdressed, aren’t you?” That was Uncle Steve.
“Work clothes,” Gideon shrugged. “I’ll need them later, it does get cold. I’ll be back late so no-one wait up for me, I’ve got a key.” He kissed his mother good bye and headed out the door.
It was barely closed behind him when Judy turned and called out, “Maddox, Miranda, kids! There’s something out here I want you to see before it goes.”
Miranda came fastest and Maddox wasn’t that far behind her. Judy twitched open the lounge room curtains and gave them a clear view of Gideon climbing up beside the driver of a sleigh pulled by six reindeer.
“Wow!” That was Miranda and she leaned closer to the window to get a better look.
The blue haired sleigh driver gave a shake of his reins and the equipage moved off, the hooves of the reindeer laying down surface ice for the forged runners behind them. Then, as the sleigh approached the intersection, it rose in the air, clearing house on the far side of the intersection with feet to spare. Judy enjoyed hearing the sounds, or the silence rather, of shock. “They’re off to beat the bounds for tonight,” she said with a note of satisfaction.
At the same time Ljars the ice elf and Gideon’s boss was asking, “Have you told your mother yet what her Christmas decorations actually are?”
“I thought I’d let her enjoy them for Christmas and not tell her about them until after my cousins have left,” Gideon admitted. “Rory and Dan can get a bit carried away. They don’t need to know that the house is covered in throwing blades.”
“Point,” Ljars acknowledged. “Sometimes ignorance can be bliss.”
It was half past seven on Christmas Eve when Gideon’s Mum called out, “Gideon, Ljars is pulling up out the front! Are you ready?”
“Yep, just about.” He emerged from his room, having relocked his wardrobe. He was dressed in soft leather, the pieces sufficiently matching that it looked like it might be a uniform. He also looked warm, and he was still carrying his hat and gloves.
“You’re a bit overdressed, aren’t you?” That was Uncle Steve.
“Work clothes,” Gideon shrugged. “I’ll need them later, it does get cold. I’ll be back late so no-one wait up for me, I’ve got a key.” He kissed his mother good bye and headed out the door.
It was barely closed behind him when Judy turned and called out, “Maddox, Miranda, kids! There’s something out here I want you to see before it goes.”
Miranda came fastest and Maddox wasn’t that far behind her. Judy twitched open the lounge room curtains and gave them a clear view of Gideon climbing up beside the driver of a sleigh pulled by six reindeer.
“Wow!” That was Miranda and she leaned closer to the window to get a better look.
The blue haired sleigh driver gave a shake of his reins and the equipage moved off, the hooves of the reindeer laying down surface ice for the forged runners behind them. Then, as the sleigh approached the intersection, it rose in the air, clearing house on the far side of the intersection with feet to spare. Judy enjoyed hearing the sounds, or the silence rather, of shock. “They’re off to beat the bounds for tonight,” she said with a note of satisfaction.
At the same time Ljars the ice elf and Gideon’s boss was asking, “Have you told your mother yet what her Christmas decorations actually are?”
“I thought I’d let her enjoy them for Christmas and not tell her about them until after my cousins have left,” Gideon admitted. “Rory and Dan can get a bit carried away. They don’t need to know that the house is covered in throwing blades.”
“Point,” Ljars acknowledged. “Sometimes ignorance can be bliss.”