Heavy
snow was falling in Birmingham, Alabama as James Rearden got into his car one
Christmas Eve, a Saturday, pulled out of his driveway, and made his way onto
the overpass and onto Interstate 20. He
was a college student, actually a senior, and just about to finish up the final
leg of his English Major (Creative Writing) program. This year, he was on his way to see his
family, over an hour away, in the small, quaint town of Pell City. When he wasn’t attending college full-time,
he was working as a Paralegal at his father’s law firm, Rearden, Jones, and
Smith, a job he found dull yet financially rewarding. Heck, he was barely even a Paralegal, and
whenever he went out on a date, he was always encouraged if not pressured to
pursue law. But James liked to live
moment to moment, as the contents of his car would attest. Paperwork, Christmas gifts, and CDs (mostly
CDs) littered the interior of his 2010 Prius.
Lately, he was going through an R.E.M. phase, and the band’s first four
albums, Murmur, Reckoning, Fables of the
Reconstruction, and Lifes Rich
Pageant, were scattered across the floor of the passenger’s side of his
car. Right now, “Harborcoat” was playing
on his car’s speaker system, reminding James that these first four albums
really were the band’s best.
The heat was on in James car, thawing out his windshield
while the wipers cleared away the snowflakes.
Christmas lights and decorations were visible from the highway, as well
as the occasional Christmas tree visible through a shop window. Now that his time at school was at an end, at
least for now, he could finally relax a bit and begin to soak in the spirit of
the season. It was a good thing too,
since traffic on the highway was beginning to become pretty thick. The cars in front of James were moving
slowly, and after about fifteen minutes, they were at a standstill. There was yelling, as two cars, a blue truck
and a white minivan, nearly hit each other.
“Oh, great,” said James.
“Let’s see what’s on the radio.”
“Harborcoat” was about done playing, and after it was
finished, James switched the dial to Magic 96.5. Sure, it wasn’t the hippest thing to be
listening to, but in a town like Birmingham, which didn’t offer a lot of
variety and often detoured into conservative talk radio, it certainly was the
best thing. Old-fashioned, maybe, but
also poppy enough to listen to and with the occasional contemporary band thrown
into the mix. Right now, though, James
was looking for the latest weather forecast to explain his current
situation. “Have a Holly Jolly
Christmas” was wrapping up just now.
“C’mon,” he grumbled.
“Where is the news?”
After the song had finished, a voice came on loud and
clear. The forecast was not good. Heavy snow and ice all through the night,
making this the whitest Christmas in quite some time. James reached for his iPhone 5 (he still
hadn’t upgraded) and texted his mother.
She and his dad were divorced, and he had done Christmas with Charles
and his new wife, Jessie, a few days before.
The text was short and sweet.
“Hey, Mom. It’s
James. The snow and ice are coming down
pretty hard, so I’m afraid I’ll have to stay somewhere else for the night. I will let you know when I can make it into
town. I love you, Mom! Bye!”
James had two younger brothers, Matt and Nathan, who were
twenty and fifteen, respectively. James
was twenty three. They were both already
at the house, which means that James being snowed in would be an inconvenience
for the family. But it would be all
right. The occasional wild,
out-of-nowhere winter storm in Birmingham had happened before. He remembers once, when he was in middle
school, it snowed so hard on his March 15th birthday that his Mom
and Dad had to crash at a hotel and then make a late-night run to Wal-Mart to
get new presents for him. He remembers
that year that he got a pretty groovy plastic black ninja.
James took exit 125 off the interstate and into Hoover,
AL. And he really meant to find a hotel
or motel at that point, only they all seemed to be full for the night. The Christmas music was back on Magic 96.5,
and as Andy Williams’ “The First Noelle” came on, the music seemed to be
leading him in another direction, toward the Patton Creek shopping center, and
then to the Galleria. So sure did he
feel about going there, that lights could have been guiding his path out of the
highway and down through the street. Illuminated
snowflakes hung from the streetlights to his left and right, also guiding his
way. He pulled into the first, enormous
parking lot of the mall, right in front of the J.C. Penny’s. The large white letters of J.C. Penny’s logo
hung with much gravity, with more Christmas lights beneath them, and beneath
the lights were large, mysterious glass doors, blackness beyond them. James got out of his car and slammed the door
shut, then trudged through the deep, packed snow toward the glass doors. They seemed strange, yet welcoming.
“It’s either this or sleep in my car,” he thought to
himself. “Surely, there are some beds,
or something, in that mall. If only we
can get it open.”
Now it might have been the weather, or the rush of the
music from his car, or the effect of passing through so many dazzling Christmas
lights, but one could say that James started to see things from that point
onward. Suddenly, one of those glass
doors sprung open, and out stepped a woman with black hair, a flannel coat, and
green corduroy pants. Whether she was
real, a ghost, or a spirit, we will never know.
She slammed the door shut behind her, then surveyed the parking lot with
a weary but bemused look in her eyes.
“Hi, I’m Carol,” she said.
“James.”
“I’ve been holed up here for the past day or so, barely
making it on coffee, fast food, and popcorn.
It’ll be nice to have some company.
Do you want to go inside and get something to eat?”
James looked at Carol.
She was kind of tough and odd looking, but also very pretty. She looked older by about two or three years,
with her hair a wavy texture and a sharp bump on her chin. Her skin was pale, like she had been inside
the Galleria for a year instead of a day.
“Who was she?” he wondered. “How
did she get in? Was she another student
from school?” He had a lot of questions,
and though he did want to follow her, he began to suspect that she wasn’t
real. The way she looked and dressed,
she seemed more like a spirit-guide than an actual person.
He paused, then asked her all of these questions in a
nervous rush.
“Are you coming or not?,” she responded. “I’ll answer your questions when we’re
inside.”
She extended her hand.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Twenty-two,” he responded.
“Twenty-four,” she replied. “I’ve got the edge.”
James took her hand, and together, they walked through those
blackened glass doors and into the J.C. Penny.
James was immediately immersed in memories from when he visited this
store as a child, coming there after reading comic books in the book store to
shop with his mother. Clothing was at
the front of the store, items like heavy coats, sweaters, and boots, while at
the back were kitchen items, electronics, bedding, and such. White Christmas lights dangled from the
ceiling, and an inflatable Santa Claus weaved strangely across the floor. Yes, a strange, crackling energy was in the
air that night. Although the store was
deserted, employees still moved back and forth across the floor and also
attended the jewelry counters. One asked
James, “Can I help you find anything?”
He wore a bow tie, glasses, green and red-striped suspenders, and had
tightly combed brown hair.
“Is this place haunted?” James asked.
“Kind of,” said Carol.
“C’mon. Keep moving.”
And with that, they were off, weaving past the
multicolored winter coats and toaster ovens, past the rows of diamond rings and
diamond necklaces, past the rows of dress shoes, belts, and dress suits, past
another inflatable Santa, until they were finally and at long last inside of
the Galleria proper. Lounge chairs and a
railing stood before them, and the glass ceiling above them revealed a black
and snow-streaked sky.
“Wow,” said James.
“I haven’t been here in forever.”
No comments:
Post a Comment