At least the wind wasn’t as bad in the woods, even though it was darker than on the road.
I trudged along the bank, slowly, fending off snow in my eyes, then finally came to a low spot and was able to get out. I stumbled from tree to tree, saw a flash, lost it again.
A flash?
I backed up and saw the flash again, then found the spot and fixed on it. A light. I’d found a light.
I didn’t know where the light was coming from, but it implied power, so I knew it had to be by the road or a house or maybe even the spaceport. Where it was didn’t much matter to me just then—I wanted to get out of the snow and cold. My feet had already passed from cold to numb, and my gloves weren’t doing the job that demanded thick mittens.
I kept following the light, letting it be my guide, hoping it would lead me to… well, the manger scene. Even in the miserable cold I smiled at that thought.
I hadn’t found the road after more than ten minutes, but the light was much brighter, forcing the trees to cast shadows, and after a few more minutes I emerged from the woods on the south side of the spaceport. The light was atop a tower near the reception area.
I tried to run across the snow-covered port. I was so worn out and the snow was so deep that I stumbled a dozen times before finally getting to the door.
How to get in?
The door had an old-fashioned doorknob on it, the kind you had to turn. Quaint. I took off my glove and tried to turn the knob, praying it wasn’t locked. This was Currier and Ives—there was a good chance it wouldn’t be.
The knob wouldn’t turn, but then, my hand was so cold it wouldn’t work right anyway. I’d never been that cold, never had my fingers refuse to close at my command. I pulled my other glove off with my teeth and tried locking both hands around the knob. I twisted my whole body.
The knob turned, the door opened, I fell inside.
Glorious warmth and freedom from the wind. It was a struggle to pick myself up off the floor. I just wanted to stay there and rest.
I glanced up at the clock on the walclass="underline" 0250. I’d been outside that long? Shit.
I got up and turned on the lights. It looked like a mile to the back of the room. My feet were starting to warm up, and getting prickly. I staggered twice but I didn’t fall down.
Turning the corner, I saw the magnificent Christmas display. Even with the scene’s lights off, it was beautiful.
Past the sheep and the goats, I steadied myself on Joseph’s shoulder, then lunged to the back of the stable and the first chicken in her roost. I lifted her out. Sure enough—eggs!
All four of them were white. I picked up each but they were just plastic. I turned to the other chicken, just cuffed it out of its roost, knocking it on the floor.
Four more eggs, all white, all plastic.
I walked out of the stable and sat down on one of the rocks a shepherd was kneeling beside.
“All for nothing,” I said to him. “I half killed myself out there in the storm—all for nothing. I was so sure.”
Dejected, exhausted, I decided to rest on my rock for awhile before looking for a phone and calling the governor and telling her I’d found nothing. She was probably still at her party. She wouldn’t have wanted to make her horses go out in the storm.
I’d be spending the rest of the night here, I was sure. What a way to celebrate Christmas.
But come to think of it—this was the most meaningful Christmas Eve I’d had in my entire adult life. And this Christmas display was a beautiful place to spend the night. That fake snow bank on the Santa Claus side looked comfortable, right next to the Christmas tree, leaning to the left just a tiny bit more than when I’d first seen it, the only imperfection in the whole display.
“Oh my God!”
No one in Currier and Ives would put up a Christmas tree without making sure it was straight.
I walked up to the tree. White lights, shiny ornaments. Shiny like the Easter egg. I peered deep inside the branches, searching, searching.
The Easter egg’s lanyard was twisted around a branch close to the trunk on the left side. I reached in and even though my hand was still numb, I was able to pull it out.
I looked at the timer. It was set to go off in—let’s see. It was on Luna time. I did a mental calculation.
“Oh my God,” again. I had two minutes to turn it off.
I fumbled the egg in my fingers. My fingers wouldn’t work. I couldn’t get them to push the shut-off code into the two flush buttons.
I kept trying. One minute left.
“Jake? Jake, are you in here?” The governor.
“Jo! Here!” I shouted, barrelling off the display and around the corner. “I have the bomb. I can’t… I can’t get it to shut off.”
Jo met me in the middle of the room. She deftly took the Easter Egg out of my hands, looked at the indicators, entered the code, then nonchalantly swung the egg around on the end of its lanyard. “Twelve seconds to go,” she said. “Hardly even exciting.”
“Maybe not for you,” I sighed. “How the hell did you and the horses get here through the storm?”
“What horses? Jake, the sleigh has a repulsor drive. Emergencies happen. Why didn’t you say where you were going? I spent the last three hours looking for you in the storm until I finally decided to see if you’d come here.” She held out the Easter egg. “Point five KT—lowest setting. And three in the morning. Nice to know Manny didn’t want to hurt anybody, no matter what else he had in mind.”
“We’ll never know what he was thinking.” Jo gestured toward the door and we headed for the sleigh. I told her my story. “I was lucky to even make it here. If it hadn’t been for the spaceport light, I’d still be out there in the woods.”
We stepped outside and Jo gave me a peculiar look. “What light? There aren’t any lights on out here.”
“But it’s right up—” I looked up at the light tower. The light was off. “But it was on, Jo. It was on.”
“Hmph,” she said. “Well, maybe it was a miracle. It’s Christmas, you know.”
“But—”
Jo started laughing. “Oh, Jake. You should see your face! Gotcha! I shut the light off when I came in. It’s on automatic. It always comes on at night unless it’s overridden.”
We climbed onto the sleigh. “I want to go to Christmas dinner with you today,” I said.
I went straight to bed when we got back to Jo’s, but still awoke with first light, fully refreshed and rested. Jo had already contacted the Patrol, but I thought I’d better call Marie’s office and leave him a message before we went to the Christmas service at church and then Sarah’s. But when I called I was routed straight to his home where I could see his wife and two delighted kids in the background playing with toys around a Christmas tree.
“Jake! Great job! And we thought it was hopeless. Finding that bomb was a real Christmas miracle,” Mark said before I could get a word out.
“No, Mark. Just some real good luck and putting the pieces together.”
“You’re too modest, Jake. Want me to send the shuttle for you? We can have you back on Luna by tonight.”
“Nope. I’m on vacation, remember? I’m going to dinner today, and I’ll let you know some time next week when I’m coming back. But I gotta run. Merry Christmas, Mark.”
“Merry Christmas, Jake.”
The storm was over and the Sun was shining when we set out, this time with Mary Lou and Nellie Sue. Jo had added sleigh bells to their harnesses. I thought about the dinner we’d be having soon, the eggnog, and taking Sarah aside to tell her about life on the Moon.
The spaceport light hadn’t been a miracle, nor had been finding the Easter egg at the last minute. Still, a miracle, a small one, had occurred.