The December Awethology
The Light Volume
An Anthology of December Themed Light Stories from the #Awethors
Copyright 2015 The #Awethors Group
https://www.awethors.com/
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information
storage and retrieval system, without permission in
writing from all the authors in the #Awethor
Anthology, except in the case of brief quotations
embedded in reviews
Acknowledgements
Without the following people giving up their spare time and expertise this anthology would not have been possible:
Proofreaders: Anita Kovacevic, CK Dawn, Christie Stratos, JB Taylor, LE Fitzpatrick Rebecca McCray,
Ryan Guy, and Travis West
Formatting: Claire Plaisted
Management: Claire Plaisted, L E Fitzpatrick, and Rocky Rochford
Publishing Sponsored by
Plaisted Publishing House Ltd,
New Zealand
The Awethors would also like to thank the continued support from all members in the group.
A Foreword from L E Fitzpatrick
The Awethors are a group of talented and mostly undiscovered authors who gather online to host events and publish anthologies. We are spread throughout the world and cover a multitude of genres and writing styles, but we all have one thing in common; a passion for writing and literature.
With such a wealth of talent in our group, publishing collections of our work is an absolute pleasure, but also whenever we embark on a project such as this, there is a real community vibe within our group to encourage submissions and develop text. Editors and proofreaders volunteer their time to develop stories, and there’s always an Awethor on standby to support us, offer tips, and give us great feedback. The community spirit of the Awethors is what really binds us together and strengthens us as writers. It’s a privilege to be part of this amazing group of writers and to be able to work with such truly awesome people.
The diversity of our group means we can cover all bases. From Merry Christmas to Happy Hanukah; from snow covered fields; to basking on the beach, from “Yo ho ho”, to “Bah humbug” – there’s something for everyone. So however and wherever you’re spending this December, on behalf of all of all of the Awethors,
Happy Reading
L E Fitzpatrick
Author of paranormal thriller The Running Game
and compiler of the December Awethologies
Contents
Foreword
The Christmas Surprise
The Year of the Light Keepers
Malic Saves Christmas
A Faery Merry Christmas
The Christmas Cuckoo Clock
At Any Moment
A Very Pepper Christmas
A Test of Faith
I Remember Grandpa
Disaffected Dave
A Very Spartan Christmas
Starlight 38
The Trial of Santa Claus
A Christmas of Ice
Evergreen
Midwinter under the Bridge: Another Swedish Tale
Clara’s Button
Gone for Christmas
The Woods
CinnaFun Pinecones
Afterword
Biographies
The Christmas Surprise
Anita Kovacevic
Am I a child or a grown-up, you ask?
To figure that out is a difficult task.
You may just be one and the other as well.
Which matters more? No one can tell.
This is my story, my Christmassy tale,
So listen or read; let no verse here fail.
Words have been sifted through a poet’s sieve,
So here is what happened on a Christmas Eve…
~~~~
The scent of fresh cookies and candles and pine,
Cinnamon, roasting, some good food to dine,
Carols so softly invading my ear,
You’d think sleep would come, with no need to fear.
Tired I was from all the Christmassy stuff,
All the carrying and buying, all the huff and the puff.
I’d been grumpy all day, not quite like a Grinch,
I just wanted some peace, not getting an inch.
But there I was lying. The silence was stark,
Not a car in the street, no dogs that would bark,
And my eyes still wide open, no dream as my shield,
I willed it to come, but it just wouldn’t yield.
I looked forward to Christmas, disliked Christmas Eve,
No chores on Christmas, just gifts to receive.
No one bugging or nagging, just letting me be.
To do what I wanted’s all I wanted, you see?
Come to think of it now, I may have been naughty,
Screamed at some people when my rage caught me.
But serves them right for disturbing my day,
I just wanted some peace, things to go my way.
I tried picturing reindeer, the sleigh on the roof,
Eager for jingle bells and the tap of the hoof.
The chimney was clogged; no Santa could enter,
But still I was hoping to hear his ho-banter.
My eyelids were glued by force of sheer will,
But the Eve just laughed at my silly ordeal.
I clenched my fists hard in infinite fright,
Afraid I might not get any sleep that night.
More terror then came as dawn grew stronger.
Daylight was here! This couldn’t be wronger!
In panic, I heard the squeaking of stairs.
Who could that be? I wonder who dares…
The noise of the radio crushed every hope.
Morning news! Had I slept? Not a wink. Nope.
Maybe nobody noticed. Maybe I get a gift.
Nothing quite like a present to give you a lift.
A mischievous smile painted my face,
As I stumbled downstairs in a greedy race.
But, oh what a shock! What a killer of joy!
This wasn’t my house! No tree, not one toy.
A skinny grey lady in a purple nightgown,
Heavy smoker, all tipsy. She waved me come down.
‘Hey, bachelor guy, where’s my rent? It is due.’
‘Where’s my wife and my kids? Who the heck are you?
And where is my house, all the gifts, our tree?’
‘No gifts,’ she hissed. ‘All you have’s what you see.’
‘No presents, you say?!?! What on earth do you mean?
It’s Christmas, you hag, it is not Halloween!’
‘Give me my due, you insolent brat,’
Her yellow teeth sneered at me just like that.
‘But why is this happening? What’s going on?’
‘You asked for this, dear, you said: ‘I want to be alone.’
My skin started to crawl, my heart throbbed in fear,
As she took out her wand and things became clear.
‘Did you think only Santa works on Christmas day?’,
She winked, ‘We still keep the naughty at bay.’
‘I have come to collect, so give me my fee.
You’ve been bad and greedy, and lazy, you see.’
I still stood my ground, in spite of my shock.
‘I’m not paying a dime, this is my home, my stoc
k.’
To my horror, she waved her wand round my room.
My home turned to dust, and I knew she was doom.
‘Give me back my family, give me back my own.’
‘But you said all you wanted was to be left alone.
You can stay alone forever, for all I care.
But I want MY present. I want MY share.’
All good memories flashed. I fell down to my knees.
There was nothing but her and my desperate pleas.
I was cold, I was lonely, stupid to my shame,
With only my arrogant, selfish self to blame.
My face got all wet – I’d forgotten how to cry.
I knew what to say but my throat got so dry.
‘Come on, my lovely, speak up, make it so.
Don’t wait for too long, or I will soon go.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, not trusting my voice.
‘You’ll have to speak louder. There’s no other choice.’
She laughed at me grinning, but I didn’t care.
I longed for my kids’ hugs, my wife’s silky hair.
I yearned for their noise, their nagging, their song.
‘How could I have been so terribly wrong?’
‘I’m sorry,’ I spoke or shouted – who knew?
‘Some fear, five tears, and some guilt, too?
Oh my, what a generous gift, milord!
Farewell to thee now!’ She didn’t sound bored.
She vanished from sight, an echo behind.
‘You humans are silly, such hearts and no mind.’
And there I knelt frozen, alone and so sad,
I fell into darkness, cold ground my firm bed.
~~~~
‘It’s snowing! It’s snowing! Get up, sleepy head!
You’re sleeping so hard, we thought you were dead!’
Children’s hands now dragged me to the windowsill.
‘Merry Christmas, Dad! It’s snowing! Take us sledding downhill!’
‘Merry Christmas, my lovelies! See what’s under the tree!’,
My wife told the kids, and then she kissed me.
As we opened the gifts and kids screamed with delight,
I bit my lip thinking of the previous night.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, dove,’
I told my good wife, who was smiling with love.
‘Don’t be silly! I love it,’ she removed a wrapping.
‘This purple nightgown is just perfect for napping.’
~~~~
This is my story, my Christmassy tale,
So believe it or not, no verse will go stale.
Words have been sifted to make you think twice
If it’s worth being naughty, or you’d better be nice
Was it all just a dream or real magic, you ask?
To figure that out is a difficult task.
It may just be one and the other as well.
Which matters more? No one can tell.
The Year of the Light Keepers
Kelly Hall
I stared at my feet as they dangled over the edge of the porch, and then breathed warmth on my chilled fingertips. Winter was especially mild in Southeast Texas, and the temperature was only befitting of my pink, lightweight cardigan. Drops of dew had formed in the field across the little road that led to our houses and glimmered with the help of our outdoor lighting.
The sparkle on the ground made me wonder what it was like to live up north, where the snow covered everything like the winter wonderland I’d only seen in movies. Sure, I’d seen snow. Maybe twice in my sixteen years, but even then it happened while I slept and was gone before I could appreciate it. Our snow doesn’t stick. It melts as soon as it hits the warm ground and usually causes a mess.
As I lay back, I wondered what it would be like to walk in deep snow. Would it be soft or would it crunch under my feet? That’s when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
“You’ll freeze to death out here, Lily,” said Owen. His shoulders were raised, his neck tucked into a much heavier coat, and his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“Aren’t you a little over-dressed?” I noticed he’d worn his work boots, too.
He sat next to me, slid his feet under the railing, and glanced back at where I lay. “Are you kidding? I have on two pairs of socks. It’s cold for us. I think you’ve just gone numb, which isn’t healthy.” He lay back tucking his hands up under his head. “What are we watching? There aren’t any stars.”
I pointed up to the sky. “They’re there, even if we can’t see them.”
“This porch is damp; we’re going to get sick.” He turned his head my way and met my eyes with concern. “That’s not a good way to bring in the New Year— moping and sick.”
I chuckled. “Who says I’m moping? Can’t a girl sit and enjoy the night without being accused of moping? Did you come over here to fight?” I narrowed my eyes.
Owen sat up and rested his face against the railing. “No, I came over here to escape the obnoxious game of Scrabble happening at my kitchen table. Hunter is much more fun when he’s single. We’d usually be popping fireworks by now, but no, they make Holly nervous. So that’s out. Of all the crap we’ve been through out here and fireworks make her gun shy. What a wimp.”
My smile fell. “Well, at least they are talking to you. It’s like pulling teeth to get a conversation out of her other than telling me not to mope. I’m fine. I don’t know why everyone keeps treating me like I’m going to fall apart.” Owen glanced back at me, his brow raised as if he didn’t believe me.
“You don’t seem fine, Lily. Holly said you’re a ticking bomb of emotions, and it’s just a matter of time before it hits you that Talon’s gone for good.” He kicked at my dangling legs in a playful manner and smiled when I kicked back. Owen didn’t have in his mossy green contacts to hide his Light Keeper green eyes, but I figured he didn’t plan on seeing my parents at this late hour. He did the eye color way more justice than I ever could.
I sat up and shook my head. “She’s wrong. I’m not upset about Talon and I don’t care if he ever comes back. I’m just thinking about what’s to come in the New Year.” Talon had barely even called his dad since he’d left on Christmas day. Though it killed me he didn’t say goodbye, I’d had time to process his leaving and was ready to move on. How I’d move on is what puzzled me. Sure, Owen was there ready to help me through it, but I needed more than that. I needed to figure some things out on my own, like what I wanted in life. I couldn’t depend on Talon, Owen, or anyone else to help me with that. Knowing I had a job to do as a Light Keeper made it more of a challenge, especially with Owen in the same boat. It was time to sink or swim, but at least we had a paddle. “Have you figured out what you want to ask Birdie when we visit?”
“No, but I’ve been practicing and experimenting with a few things,” he said.
“Must be nice to live in a house where everyone knows what you are and you can practice anytime you want.” I crossed my arms and slumped.
“I’ve told you to come over, and we’ll practice together.” He turned to meet my eyes. We need to work on this connection, he sent. You can’t just ignore it forever.
I wasn’t trying to ignore Owen or our new ability, but I needed my space. It’s kind of hard to figure things out when you have someone in your head, so I made him promise we’d not deal with that for a bit. At least until we talked to Birdie. “I know. I said I needed time. It won’t be forever.”
“Seriously, I’ve learned some cool things. Like, for one, the Water will not freeze. It also won’t get hot. Hunter and I tried making cocoa with it and it didn’t work. So then he got an idea, but popsicles were out, so we thought just making Kool-Aid with it would work.”
I searched his eyes and realized he was serious. “I hardly think we need to be getting creative with the Water. We only need a tiny bit anyway.”
“Hunter said it was a good way to experiment, and we did learn from
it.” He shrugged.
I felt my cheeks warm and realized that for the first time in a week, I’d laughed. Not just a little gratuitous chuckle, but a belly laugh, and it felt nice. “So what other tricks do you have up your sleeve?” I asked.
“Sky writing with our Lights would be fun and possibly useful.” He kicked his feet together and stared down at them. Among other amazing things we can do, he sent.
I nudged him. “Owen, stop it. I know it’s important and we’ll get to it, probably before any of these other wild ideas of yours, but I told you—”
He held his hands up defensively. “I know, I know. You need time. But these aren’t ridiculous ideas. Besides, sky writing could be fun.”
“What are you even talking about—sky writing?” I searched his eyes to see if he would break and begin to laugh, but instead he remained serious.
“I’ve seen you throw the Light up into spirals before and it was pretty amazing, right? So I’m thinking about those people that draw pictures with sparklers and fire batons and stuff, and I think—why can’t we do that?” He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve been practicing, but it’s not as much fun in my small bedroom.”
I let out a long breath. “I didn’t deliberately draw spirals, Owen, I just thought about creating a distraction, and it happened that way.”
“Exactly, so I tried to think about other things, like words and shapes, to see what happened,” he said. “It works pretty well, so I think we should try it together.”
“It’s not like we can do that now, my parents are inside.” I gestured toward the house behind us.
“Better yet—” He stood up and ran down the steps and out onto the front lawn. “I’ll race you to the road.” His eyes lit with his smile until I stood up and ran after him, and then he took off like a shot.
He stopped when he’d made it a safe distance down Bragg Road where, if anyone looked out from the houses, they couldn’t see. I caught up and stopped next to him, doubled over with my hands on my knees to rest. “You’re crazy.”
“Come on, Lily. Do it with me. It’s almost midnight. Besides, some of us are excited about the toys we got for Christmas.” He raised his hand up and called his Light, so I did the same. Our orbs glowed bright, our skin lit, and even Owen’s short hair seemed to move a little with the energy. “Concentrate. You spell out ‘happy’ and I got the rest.”