short story: footprints in the snow

The parents left in a taxi around seven. Day had already turned to night hours before. On her way

out, the mother double checked that the door was locked and the gas cooker was off. The father

once again calmed his wife, although, after all, it was his work party they were headed out to. As

they left, Syd sat playing the Playstation in the living room and Rosemary lay on her bed belly down

drawing pictures in the booklet her mum had bought for her. They had told Syd to put Rose in bed at

eight, to be in bed himself by ten, not to eat any junk food and to keep the doors locked and not go

outside. The mother had left her mobile number written on a piece of paper by the phone in case of

an emergency. Both parents understood that, legally speaking, a boy of Syd’s age, 12, couldn’t be

left home alone, especially not as the guardian of a younger child, but it was both parents’ first night

out, real night out, in a long time and so it was easy to reason to themselves that everything would

be fine.

Syd remained distracted by his games for a long time; the fact of being left unsupervised lost in the

television screen. The downstairs TV was much bigger than his own and he rarely got to play on it,

but this was the first night he was not watched-over by an adult, and thus he felt manic, like there

was something exciting he must be doing, only he didn’t know what.

He went upstairs and let himself into Rosemary’s room. Everything in the room was a shade of red

or pink: the walls candy pink, the bed sheets dark cloudy pink, the carpet tomato red, the drawers

burgundy. An enmeshed swirl of girliness. Syd claimed to everyone he hated Rose’s room but

secretly he liked it, and wished his room could look similar and not the standard navy blues, blacks

and browns that made up his, and every other boy he knew’s, room. “What are you in here for?”

Rose shrieked.

“I’m bored.”

“Go play one of your games” she said lifting herself off the bed.

“I’ve just played games for like three hours. Let’s go do something” replied Syd.

“Like what? It’s too late to go out” Rose said.

“We could watch a movie?”

“No” Rose yelled. “You’ll put something rubbish on.”

“I’ll let you stay up late.”

Rose copied an exaggerated hand movement she’d seen on TV by touching her chin to show she

was thinking. “What if mum and dad come back and find us?”

Syd was feeling up Rose’s toys - a unicorn, and a big eyed fluffy lion. “We’ll put the light off when it

gets late and if we hear a car we’ll come upstairs.” With that, they both headed downstairs.

Once downstairs, Rose sank into the reclining chair while Syd crouched by the shelf in the corner of

the room calling out names of DVDs. He looked for all the films that said 15 or 18 on the side and

read out the titles, the things his parents said he wasn’t allowed to watch, and Rose said No to all of

them and secretly Syd was glad. In the end, after much indecision, Syd put on a movie Rose liked

to watch again and again: Frozen, a Disney princess movie. A sign, Syd felt, that he wasn’t the bad

influence he’d always suspected he’d be in situations like this. Before pressing play, the two of them

headed to the kitchen and grabbed as many sweets as they could carry: jelly beans, marshmallows,

Mars bars, Licorice allsorts. And for the next two hours Syd pretended he was being made to endure

the film for Rose’s benefit while really he quite enjoyed himself. As soon as the credits began to roll

Rose said: “should we go to bed now?”

“Why would you want to go to bed? Mum and dad aren’t here, we can do whatever we want.” Syd

was already off the sofa searching for a new source of entertainment.

“There’s just the same stuff to do as when they are here. We’ll end up getting told off” Rose protested.

Syd gave a mischievous smile: “We should play a game.”

“But you always beat me.”

“I mean a real game, like where we make each other do dares.”

“I don’t wanna” Rose said.

“I dare you” Syd dragged out the last syllable while he looked for something. “To run outside and open 39’s gate.”

“Is that where those two dogs live?” she asked.

“Yeah. C’mon, it’d be funny, those dogs will wake the whole street up barking.”

“What if the dogs bite me?”

“They’ve never bit anyone. They just bark a lot.”

“Someone might see me.”

“It’s only over the road just run straight back. Look.” Syd parted the living room blinds to reveal the

street. Outside snow was falling hard. “Oh my god.” Both children jumped with excitement. “When

did this start?”

Rose pressed herself against the window and looked out. The snow was landing and a thick layer

had already built up on the ground. It obscured the streetlight in the distance, which created a

glowing orb out of the snow that swirled around it. Each piece materialised from the darkness and

fell too fast to keep track of. “We should go outside” Syd said. Rose, figuring she would not be to

blame if she didn’t verbally agree, said nothing at all.

The two of them put on shoes and coats. Rose needed Syd to help her tie her laces. Syd’s blue

winter coat was a miniature version of the one his father wore. Syd opened the front door cautiously

and walked out first, beckoning Rose to follow.

They left a trail of two pairs of footprints behind them. The snow was tall and still growing. Rose felt

as though if the snow continued to fall it would grow tall enough to cover her completely. Fog hid

everything in the distance. Syd walked to the middle of the road and looked outward and the world

felt smaller than it had done before, cosier. Then: a snowball hit Syd’s face. Rose’s snowball. Syd

clambered to the ground and rolled a bigger one and chucked it back at her, signalling the fight was

on. Like all children caught up in the wonder of snow, they barely felt the cold. They roamed fast and

free.

The snowballs eventually stopped flying and the two of them moved away from one another while

still walking in the same direction. Rose kicked the snow as she walked, hardly tall enough to step

over it, occasionally constructing a snowball and chucking it at nothing in particular. Syd continued

down the street in an almost trance-like state, making occasional glances behind to make sure

Rose was still in sight. He followed the streetlights, ignoring the streets themselves, ploughing ahead

as if following a shooting star.

The snow stopped just about when Syd was coming to the last streetlight of a cul-de-sac. The

houses looked like blocks of shadow with white rectangular heads, and the cars were now only

outlines growing from the ground. Syd began to push clumps of snow together, rolling it all into a

ball. He disliked the wetness on his hands but he continued sculpting until he’d piled three of these

balls on top of one another. He stuck a lollipop stick he had in his pocket in the head for a nose and

prodded eye holes with his fingers. It was a snowman - a rubbish looking snowman, he thought. The

one Christmas he remembered it snowing his mum had made most of the snowman for him, he’d

only stuck the eyes and arms in. He was glad it wasn’t in his garden so no one would ever know it

was his creation.

Syd turned: Rose was gone. He let out a wail. He’d get the blame if he couldn’t find her. A list of

things that could be taken away from him - his phone, his playstation, all his games, the freedom to

stay out late - ran in a list across his mind. Syd speedwalked in the direction he’d came, then began

to run, his retinas searching out Rose’s pink coat, or her footprints in the snow. He saw neither. The

streets were devoid of life. All lights off. Sound banished.

Syd stopped and searched the distance, the fog having now faded. He stood on the road looking out

for lit up windows to make sure no one was watching. He heard a noise: footsteps maybe. A man

approached, materializing as if out of the shadows and Syd prepared himself to run yet the man got

closer and closer and Syd didn’t move. The man was in tattered clothes that looked excessively

baggy, and a scraggy beany sat atop his head. He was unshaven and unwashed and as he

approached his smell filled Syd’s nostrils: the smell of leftover food and adult drinks mixed in a sickly

broth. The man walked towards Syd but stopped before he reached touching distance. He held his

hands up showing they were empty, likely to sign he was no danger. “What’s a kid your age doing

out here on his own? It’s late y’know.” The man’s voice was deep and throaty.

“I… um” Syd had forgotten how to speak.

“No need to be frightened, kid.” The man crouched down on one knee, seemingly as much from

tiredness as from a wish to be level with the boy. Syd stepped back to escape the smell. “You lost?

Do your parents know you’re out here?”

“No. My parents aren’t here at the moment.” Syd stammered. “Me and my sister only came out to

see the snow.”

“And where’s this sister of yours now?”

“I lost her. And now I can’t find her.” Syd paused, then adopted a tone of formality: “She’s a little girl,

younger than me, blonde hair, and she has a pink coat on. Have you seen her?”

The man ran his hand through his beard as he thought. “I live on the streets. Any and all streets.

Which means I’ve probably seen her. Damn certain, actually. I just can’t remember which one she

was.”

“No” protested Syd. “This was five minutes ago when I lost her. If you haven’t seen a girl walk by

here you won’t have seen her. My parents are going to be so mad.”

The man laughed. “That’s the reason you need to find her? Because your parents will be mad?” He

paused. “Because it was your responsibility to look after Rose and you didn’t, you just wanted to

build a snowman instead.”

The sound of her name coming from the man’s mouth felt like a physical entity that had floated

across the gap between where they stood and shook Syd’s whole body. He felt sick; his legs

wouldn’t work. “I didn’t tell you she was called Rose.”

“Did you not?” The man chuckled to himself.

Syd begun to back away. “Have you kidnapped her?”

“Kids these days” the man said as he began to walk after Syd. “Knowing about kidnapping at your

age. What else is in that head of yours? No Syd, I’ve not kidnapped her, you lost her out playing.”

Syd fell, his body outlined in the snow like chalk at a crime scene.

The man grinned, showing a mouth with more teeth missing than not. “It’s not a big deal Syd. I’ll tell

you what you have to do, what you should have done as soon as you lost her. Go home, phone

your parents, apologise for not doing as they said, and they’ll sort the whole thing out. Your sister will

be fine.”  

“I can’t” Syd said. He climbed back onto his feet. The back half of him felt so wet and cold it was

numb. “My parents will be so angry. This was the only time they’ve ever left me be in charge.”

“I know, kid. How about you see it as a growing experience. Your sister is still a child, you’re the

older one. Phone your parents and take responsibility and when they come back they’ll find Rose.

Everything will be fine. Scout’s honour.”

Syd turned and began to run; before long he could hardly breath, his vision felt blurred, and his feet

hurt from pushing through the snow. He ran until his chest was ready to explode then stopped and

looked behind: the man wasn’t there. It was possible he hadn’t followed Syd at all. He wandered

slowly waiting for his breath to return to normal. His breathing did settle but his heart wouldn’t calm.

He thought about what the man said. He’d told Syd to do the right thing. Take responsibility. But

should he? He began in the direction home either way.

The streets on the walk back looked unrecognisable to Syd, and they felt as though they were

expanding out like an optical illusion, forever pushing him further from home. He reached what he

thought he recognised as a street only a few minutes away from his house, and it was here that a

car, the first he’d seen in motion all night, made a slow crawl down the road. Syd kept his eyes

pointed ahead to stop any possible eye contact with the driver. The car was bright white, whiter than

the snow, and it stopped once it was in line with Syd. The door opened from the passenger’s side

and out stepped a tall, ruggedly handsome man. He was dressed all in white, in a flash suit with not

a touch of dirt on it and reflectively shiny shoes, and he sported a greying mane of well kept hair

growing from his chin. Syd thought the man had the air of a movie star as the man calmly

approached him.

“Hello young man.” His voice was tall and clear.

Syd blurted out words: “There’s a homeless man somewhere and I think he’s chasing me. I lost my

sister. She’s in a pink coat. Have you seen her?”

“A homeless man, eh?” The man rubbed his hands together. They were smooth hands, less wrinkles

than years in them - hands that had always had other hands to do work for them. “I wouldn’t worry

about him, what can a homeless man do? He’s probably up in the clouds by now.”

Syd hugged himself but this failed to create as much warmth as he’d hoped.

“Tell me” the man continued, “this sister of yours, do you like having her around?”

Syd felt disorientated like he might faint. He backed away until his back touched a fence and he

used this to hold himself up. Eventually he located his voice: “Yeah I do. I mean, she can be really

annoying, but I guess so.”

“You know, I never had a brother or sister. Everything I was given was completely mine. I imagine I

got double the presents you get for Christmas, and double the attention. Double the everything.”

“Listen, I…” Syd was stammering again. “I have to go.” Syd began to leave but a hand on his

shoulder stopped him. The hand didn’t need to apply force - upon the feeling of contact Syd’s body

froze into place.

“I’ll tell you what my boy, I’m gonna click my fingers and work a little magic, just for you, if that’s what

you want. You go home, don’t phone your parents, they’ll just be mad if you tell them about your

sister. Instead, just play on your games, eat some candy, maybe go to bed a little early so you don’t

get caught.” A grin stretched the sides of the man’s face. “Do this and I promise when your parents

get back they won’t even remember who Rose is. It’ll be like she never existed. Double the presents

for you.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” Syd could hear the whiny tone in his voice.

“Her room will be an empty room, All her stuff will be gone. And your parents, they’ll only remember

having one child.”

“Where will Rose be?”

“She’ll be with me, down where I live. I’ll take good care of her. Have a think on it my boy. All you

have to when you get home is not pick up the phone.”

The man’s grip eased from Syd’s shoulder and Syd ran as fast as he could. He heard no footsteps

following him. He soon reached his home and hurried inside; as he threw off his coat he realised he

was drenched in sweat. He sat down on the sofa until he’d stopped shaking. He needed to find Rose

or, he knew, he’d be in a lot of trouble.

Outside, the homeless man wandered with no direction, thinking about the boy, and occasionally

muttering to himself. The man in the car, too, had his driver slowly trail the streets, sipping on a

Bourbon with ice, his eyes alert to the street constantly checking for sight of the boy’s parents.

The parents did return, by then the wee hours of the morning. Before heading to bed, the mother

checked in on Syd, her only child, making sure he was warm and resting in bed.