| Subject: Christmas Nigh; Adeste Fi! - Part 5/25 |
Author:
Teacup
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Date Posted: 06:41:39 07/05/07 Thu
In reply to:
Teacup (aka Ever-Xmas)
's message, "Christmas Nigh; Adeste Fi!" on 23:51:19 06/30/07 Sat
Christmas Nigh; Adeste Fi!
Part 5
Arriving at Mac’s building, Harm parked down the street a ways. With the roads being plowed, less parking spots were available.
“The snow is really coming down,” Mac observed before they got out of the car.
“Yeah,” Harm agreed. “Looks like we get a white Christmas this year.” They both got out of the car, and Harm opened up the door to the backseat to retrieve the presents he intended to give Mac.
“You know, … it’s nice,” said Mac, taking in the setting. “Right at Christmas is the one time I actually hope for snow.”
“Sure, freezing temperatures, extra car accidents, walkways that need shoveling … Just what everybody wants for Christmas.” Harm’s sarcasm was light. He actually enjoyed nature’s Christmas decoration too, but decided to goad Mac a bit.
Mac rolled her eyes. “Where’s your sense of romance, Harm?”
At the use of the word ‘romance’ Harm’s ears perked up, and he gave Mac an odd look.
Mac felt a little embarrassed by her word choice, especially after seeing Harm’s reaction. But she decided to explain her usage rather than change her phrasing. “You know, … enjoying the whole imagery and atmosphere attached to special times. … Appreciating how things are … just meant to be.”
“I’ve had only limited success with romance,” Harm admitted, “… and that success wasn’t really with the atmosphere.” Then to bait Mac, he added with exaggerated uncertainty, “… I’m not entirely sure about the imagery.”
She bit. “You’re not sure?”
Harm closed his car door and then grinned slyly. “My romantic successes almost always took place in the dark.”
Mac sighed indignantly. “Having a woman in your bed is not the same as romance,” she sternly corrected him.
Harm raised an eyebrow in a look that playfully said, ‘really?’ To that, Mac remarked, “Typical man; confusing sex with romance. … They’re two very different things.”
“Mac, most men do consider them to be two entirely different things,” Harm said confidently.
At Mac’s skeptical look, Harm explained, “Romance is what a man has to go through to get the woman to go to bed with him and have sex.”
Harm smiled after he said it, letting Mac know he was being facetious, but that didn’t stop her from shooting him a disgusted look. However, she also picked up that he had qualified his remark by speaking of ‘most’ men. … No one ever said Harmon Rabb was like most men. … Of course, she was also sure he’d made use of those gold wings of his on more than one occasion in the past.
“So, romance is just a means to get sex, the end goal?” she asked for clarification.
“Something like that.” At her still disapproving look, Harm added defensively, “…To some guys.”
Sensing he had overstepped his boundaries a bit, Harm returned to the original topic of conversation. “So, snow is romantic, huh?”
“At Christmastime, yes. … It’s kind of like a miracle from the sky,” Mac said with awe and wonder. Then she asked Harm, “… Doesn’t it give you a good feeling to have the snow flakes falling on you? To see the clean, white sheet of fluff layered on the ground? Can’t you just imagine a horse-drawn sleigh in this kind of scenery? Kids building snowmen in the park? … Snow just feels … Christmassy.”
“Christmassy?”
“Yeah. … What word would you use?”
“To describe the feeling of snow?” Harm held up the bag with presents, silently asking her to hold it, which she did. He took off his gloves, leaned over, and picked up a small handful of the crystals. Finally he declared, “Cold.”
Mac snickered and rolled her eyes.
But Harm wasn’t done. He let some of the substance slide through his fingers and continued, “Soft, but …” He squeezed the snow remaining in his hand into a ball. “… it can be made very firm. … So it’s versatile …” He threw the snowball at a nearby street light post, and the projectile splattered apart into chunks. “… and aerodynamic.”
Mac just shook her head and turned to start down the partially shoveled sidewalk in the direction of her building.
Harm began to follow, still thinking of descriptive words. “Let’s see, … wet, … slippery …” With another step his foot suddenly slid on a patch of ice and he fell, landing entirely prone on his back, with his head in a heap of snow.
A shot of terror ran through Mac that split second when she realized Harm was falling, but was just out of her reach. Then she actually chuckled at the coincidence of the timing between his fall and his reference to ‘slippery.’
However, when Harm did not immediately open his eyes or speak, Mac’s concern quickly resurfaced. “Harm?”
Harm’s body was in shock from the fall, and he didn’t feel like he could move at the moment. He could barely hear some muffled sounds, and he couldn’t make out any of it. He did register feeling cold. Very cold.
He slowly opened his eyes and saw … an angel. A white, ethereal light glowed around the head above him, as if emanating from this very being. The angel brought with it a strong presence that Harm could feel through and through. It brought him a sense of comfort and warmth that spread through his chest, despite the odd outward chill that had not disappeared.
The angel spoke. But he could not understand what it said. Understand what she said – it was a female angel, he was now sure. He made out something she said about ‘good news,’ but the rest was muffled.
“… Good news?” he repeated the only words he understood. Good news. Was he in Heaven? Was that the good news?
No, it couldn’t be. He clenched his eyes shut tightly for a few seconds and then reopened them, sure that he must not be seeing what he thought. … But the angel was still there. Her presence had not wavered.
Now the angel reached out and touched both sides of his head, and just like that … he could hear clearly again.
He wanted to see the face of his angel, – the glow around her somehow shading her features.
Just then she moved to his side and put one hand behind his head to raise it slightly. As she shifted, light fell on her differently, and he could see the face of her, … the face of his angel, … the face of …
“Sarah?”
Surprised to hear Harm call her given name, Mac concluded, “You must have hit your head.”
Harm realized that Mac had been leaning over him and, with the streetlight directly above, she had been backlit, causing the glow around her. That backlight had also caused his inability to see her face.
With a trace of cold and wetness remaining on his ears, he also figured out that Mac had cleared the snow away from his head, freeing his audio receptors.
Harm got himself up just enough to rest on his elbows, and Mac brushed snow off of his head and checked it for damage.
“Well, you’re not bleeding,” she said. “And I don’t see any immediate bumps. But that doesn’t rule out the possibility of a concussion. The fact that you seemed out of it for a minute concerns me. Can you see ok?”
“I didn’t hit my head,” insisted Harm. “… I mean, it doesn’t hurt.”
“Probably because it’s so thick,” quipped Mac.
“I landed on a pile of snow. That cushioned the fall.”
“You’re lucky it’s been snowing then.”
Harm knew Mac just ribbed him for his earlier complaints about the snow, but he chose to ignore it. His curiosity over what she had been saying to him after he first fell got the better of him. “Did you say something about good news?” he asked.
“You didn’t hear me? Are you sure you didn’t hurt your head?”
“Yeah, I just had snow in my ears.”
Mac laughed. “Well, that’s a new one. … But what about your eyes? Because you were looking at me very oddly.”
“I was … It’s just …” Oh what the heck, he decided to go with honesty. “… you look like an angel.”
Though Harm, himself, was embarrassed by his admission, he suddenly noticed the redness on Mac’s cheeks, and he wasn’t sure if was due to the cold or if she was blushing.
“I, uh, …” Mac was caught by surprise at the comment, but quickly got her mind back on topic. “… I said the good news was that help arrived. They’re putting salt down.”
Harm followed Mac’s gaze to see a big green truck labeled ‘King & Family’ on the side with a large crown logo. The men who had lain salt on the sidewalk were getting ready to cover the area across the street.
“So,” continued Mac, as she rose from her squatting position, “you should be saved from falling to an otherwise certain death as you hazard your way down the rest of the perilous walkway.” She was simply being melodramatic now.
“Funny, Mac.” As Harm started to get up, Mac smiled and held out her hand to help.
--------
TBC ...
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