December 2021 Christmas Holidays Story Contest Entry

Wizards in Winter

The town had an eerie silence as Garrett placed my things on the small rear of his truck. It was a new model—like it had just been purchased, in fact, the lack of a real license plate and the drive-out tag in the rear window kind of sealed that deal.
Garret held the door for me to get in and handed the bouquet to me after I sat down.
He then carefully closed the door and walked around the front. The vehicle then started up.
“I love remote starts,” he said as he closed the door. “That and the horn when I’m trying to remember where I parked.”
“It’s nice.”
“Thank you. So, you normally ride a motorcycle in this weather?”
“Only if Miriam doesn’t stop me. But, to be truthful, I didn’t really want to brave the trip home.”
“Well, I am happy to drive you home or wherever you would like to go.”
“Not a lot open now.”
“Yeah,” he replied as he backed up and we drove out of the parking lot and onto the nearly deserted street. “Do you like gas station chicken?”
“KFC?”
“Oh, so you know about the history?”
“I worked at that place,” I said as we passed by a darkened restaurant with a statue of Coronal Sanders decked out like Santa Claus.
“I’ve had to stop at a lot of hole in the wall places while driving back.”
“This town is a hole in the wall,” I mused.
“True. My uncle wants to turn things around and bring in bigger companies but grandpa won’t let him.”
“Won’t let him?”
“There’s something in the town charter that won’t allow for something or other. It’s more family politics then anything real.”
“I know all about family politics,” I said as I looked out the window. We were driving at a slow pace due to the road conditions and the possibility that this brand new truck would take a nasty slide into an embankment or into a lake.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Okay,” I was very close to bailing out of a moving vehicle.
“Did your brother really pull my grandfather out of the lake?”
“Yep.”
“And before that he knocked a door off its hinges during a basketball game?”
“Different brother.”
“Wow…I always thought those were just grandads’s wild stories. He once told me about this time he toilet-papered the park and had this girl drive him away before the police arrived.
“That would be me,” I replied with a smirk.
“I am driving with a legend.”
“I really had no idea what they were doing until they popped the trunk and took out a lot of multi-colored rolls. I became the getaway driver after that.” I replied as I felt a little relieved and no longer had my hand grasping the door.
“What about the maple syrup incident?”
“He said it was for the pancake feast at the VFW and since my brother was one, I talked my manger into letting him have a case.”
On a cold, November morning, 425 West Court Street was flooded with maple syrup flowing out of a malfunctioning pool pump plugged in to about five-hundred feet of extension cord in front of city hall, right into the mayor’s parking spot. Needless to say the mayor was pissed and he tried to find out who did it but the police had no idea—and the syrup in question was NOT from my job, but some Mr. Thomas had stored “for something sweet to happen in this town”—Cracker Barrel’s reputation remained unsullied as the case of syrup was indeed used at the pancake fest.
There’s still an essence of maple syrup in the air at that spot.
“Same brother?”
“No, another one. He’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” I replied.
“You miss him.”
“Yeah, he was one of the good guys.”
“We need the good guys,” Garrett said as he slowed down to turn onto my street. “When do you work in the morning?”
“Depending on the weather, we might not open tomorrow.”
“I kind of thought that too. So, can I give you my number to call so I can bring you in?”
“Seriously?”
“I can’t let you walk, right? Or would you prefer to give me your number?”
I looked at him for a second and then down. I could swear he was doing all of this just to get my phone “If not, I can just come by. What time do we need to leave by?”
“Five-thirty.”
“You must love your job.”
“I do.”
“Well, then, I will come by at five-thirty. Does you dad own a shotgun?”
“No, he owns three.”
“How itchy is his trigger finger? I mean this is West Tennessee, but I’m hoping he has issues with loading.”
“I’ll let him know you’re coming.”

Garrett stopped the truck in front of the house. There was another vehicle in the driveway, a minivan with Texas plates.
I almost wanted to tell him to drive on but he had already turned off the engine, gotten out, and walked over to the passenger side.
He opened the door, I looked at his face and tried to show a reaction of being thankful and happy but I could only give a slight smile.
“Shall I walk you to your door?”
“You don’t have to.”
“True, but would you like me to?”
The thought of walking in and seeing my brother’s family-and having to run the gauntlet of greetings and questions terrified me. If Garrett was there, some questions could be deflected and maybe they would barrage him a plethora of questions that he could honestly answer and then they would let him go on his merry way. I would be safely in my room behind a locked door.
“Yes, thank you.”
He helped me out of the truck, passed the flowers to me and carried my work stuff and riding gear.
“You live here all your life?”
“So far,” I replied as we hiked up the snow-cleared walkway to the front door.
I took my keys out, unlocked the door, took a deep breath to try to block out the Hell I was about to undergo, and opened the door.
There were all sorts of voices but the one that send a cold shiver throughout my body was Adam’s as he called out: “Is that you, Nick? How’s my little brother?”

Wizards in Winter—Trans-Siberian Orchestra