Merry Christmas Mother!

England, the town of Acocks Green, the year 2019, October. On the eve of Christmas, I recall being awoken at 3:16 am, to the darkness of night, by a cold snap of air that sent shivers down the hairs of my neck down, leaving a cold crust that covered my entire being, the fierceness of it imposing upon me, so that I am compelled to wrap my entire body within my quilt, like an ancient mummy in a tomb. Except in winter, I would sleep only in my boxers as it was most comfortable for me. On this night in particular, I had been laying on my right side facing my bedroom window when my eyes shot open fast, it was as if I had been late for an appointment & my body clock jolted me from the land of nod, however the rest of my body was reluctant to be so hasty. I shut back my eyes, blowing air from my mouth as my teeth began to chatter. I am quilted from my forehead & around my neck, only exposing the left cheek of my face. My chin seemed to tuck itself in towards my chest & the cold seemed to pull me father from my sleep, when I noticed that my feet were still poking out of the bottom of the quilt & as I felt the cold biting each toe, I quickly curled them, at the same time curling my legs towards my chest. I now resembled a baby caterpillar, shivering inside a cocoon, in a phoetal position. Shivering more increasingly, I grit my teeth and press my lips tight together, breathing thinly and quickly, my whole body quivered like a wet dog in winter & I could think about nothing else at that moment but conserving heat.

I slowly opened my left eye to peek at my alarm clock, revealing to myself the early hours of the morning. Closing back my eyes again, this time tighter, my body shrank smaller inside my quilt as I squeezed it intimately around me. I thought of how long could I have been exposed to this invading cold air. I opened both tired eyes slowly, blinking more frequently to take a clear look at the window, to see if it was open, but it wasn't. The sight of the closed window began a conversation in my waking mind. Why was it so cold, its still dark outside, there are no birds chirping in the trees, why am I awake, did I not turn on the central heating, had the electricity ran out. I hoped & reasoned to myself that it would not be the latter, as I remember topping up fifteen pounds only midday yesterday & it couldn't have ran out already.

Peering again sheepishly at the numbers on the digital clock, I see that it only turned to 3:17am, though it felt like more minutes had passed. My bones pained in a freeze as my muscles battled to shiver away its enemy the cold. I was loosing the battle, even the touching of my toes seemed to amplify the feeling of cold so, I began to wiggle them about & rub my feet together in an effort to warm up. Every breath seemed broken as I exhaled, more of a whimper than a breath & in mind I said to myself, this cant be right! For the third night in a row, I had woken up between the hours of 3:00 & 4:00 am, however, this time I had noticed the atmosphere of cold that seemed to hover over me. Perhaps this cold could be the thing which had interrupted my usually sleep pattern. I had an intense need to get up, although I preferred to go back to sleep with this little heat that I had generated in my cocoon, so I pressed my thighs together and wedged both of my hands in between. At that moment, I truly appreciated my quilt & although that I decided to remain in bed, my mind was fully awake, so I began scanning my room space with tired eyes. I looked beyond the digital clock on my dressing table next to my bed and over towards the window again, contemplating that no one should be outside in this type of cold at this time of night. Checking to see if there was any snow or ice on the trees or the window, I saw that there was not & in that precise moment, the cold seemed to show its self more. With every breath that I exhaled, heat of my breath would cause a steam that quickly dissipated & I could feel my chapped lips also, so with the tip of my tongue I began to lick my lips like a snake tasting the air, keeping them tightly shut tight, not allowing any cold to enter my mouth.

I looked back at my clock and thought, its 3:18, time seems to be freezing slower & I am in bitter, biting cold. I thought that maybe I had died for a strange reason & this made me anxious. Now my mind was awake even more, eyes wide open with the effort to rationalise my ordeal, the adrenalin of my heart beat seemed to thaw the chilled bones of my ribcage momentarily. I took some deeper breaths & as I further scanned the room a thought entered me that this was Grandmas old house, I moved in here with my mother after she passed away 10 years ago, maybe the house was on its last legs too I thought, the floor boards are creaky and the boiler has had its issues! I remember it costing a small fortune to get it fixed last year, maybe that's why the room was cold. I reasoned to myself, that the boiler had been previously in a broken state for so long & needed servicing again. The thought of this helped me to think objectively, steering away from any inner narratives of supernatural happenings. I now had some little courage, that I would go to check the boiler & the electric meter, unfortunately, both of these things were down stairs, meaning that I would have to leave my cocoon of just about warmth & sacrifice my entire body to the cold. I was not looking forward to this at all. I thought to myself that I cant remember feeling a cold like this even in winter. I decided that if im going to head downstairs, then I'd have to quickly leave my cocoon & dash to my wardrobe opposite the window, next to it my woolly dressing gown was thrown over a chair, that chair was also Grandmas. Underneath it, some slippers & pushed inside, some socks that I removed before I went to bed earlier last night.

The moment had come & the clock remained 3:18am, time seemed to be frozen. There was no movement in the room except my shivering body. This time was unlike my routine mornings where I would rise at 6:45am, with enough time to yawn widely, having an early lay in, with the comfort to think about my day ahead at university. This time I was preparing to move quickly from cocoon to dressing gown & slippers, withstanding the aggression of the cold. Then to check the boiler and electric meter before heading back to bed, to cope in the Siberian brisk. It was time, I excited my tows with movement, ready to hop out of the cocoon. I planned a way to the dressing gown with my eyes, identifying obstacles to avoid tripping over, such as my phone charger plug & outdoor trainers on the floor. It was safe, so counting to five, I whipped the quilt from about me & vaulted towards the gown, all the while a nippy breeze followed my exposed body, I felt cold as a corpse & the arctic air seemed to gather about me, penetrating my skin. My back arched & knees bent as I tip toed towards the gown with my arms crossed over my chest, all the while rubbing my arms with fingers numbed to the bone by the brisk. The movement of every joint in my knees & toes seemed to cripple with every step & the bottom of my feet felt like I walked upon tooth picks & the room temperature an uncompromising artic level, below zero.

After several steps, I had reached my first checkpoint at the gown & as I reached out to pick it up, a piercing cold swarmed under my armpit, like an invisible spectre. Shaking out the gown, I Begin to put it on, my limbs stills gripped in an invisible icy hold. As I searched my cold limbs into the arms of it, I felt the friction with my skin, the gown was also frosty & cold with frozen droplets on the outside. It was A pleasant relief the further my hands & arms entered, although it didn't make that much difference. The cold remained everywhere & my breath was still visible. I licked my lips as I fastened the rope and wrapped my arms around my chest, whilst edging my feet into the slippers. The room seemed to get even colder, which was not expected now in the woolly gown and slippers. Now I was certain that I must go & check the boiler, so headed to my bedroom door, where I could see the light from the landing underneath it, from behind the blackness of my room. I went to my bedroom door as if to open it, reaching out to put my hand on its nob, though when I looked upon it the metal looked cold & icy, with water droplets dotted all around it and it looked steamed up, which I thought was peculiar, so I hesitated looking back at the window, though I noticed no condensation nor ice was upon it. Still shivering , it took a few anxious seconds for me to eventually open the door. I pull the door slowly & as it creaked open, all of the cold air seemed to rush out, almost knocking me over as it brushed past me & left the room. My eyes opened with surprise at an even sharper cold down my spine. It felt like someone placed an ice cube on my neck, leaving a trail of cold liquid which watered down towards the small of my back as it melted. I felt it through the gown, as if a long sharp finger nail was pointing & pressing onto the middle of my back, 

I shuffled quickly over the threshold of the doorway between the upstairs landing & my room & as both feet left the room, I noticed something strange with the atmosphere & temperature. Instantaneously, when I stepped out & crossed in to the landing, the air seemed the normal level warm to be expected. My body thawed in half a second, breath was no longer visible exhaling & my lips no longer chapped. I thought it bizarre, so popped my head back into the bedroom, to see if my findings were correct & to amazement, breath appeared in the room & I could feel the cold biting upon my face & my lips became numb and chapped. It was like there were two atmospheres, warm & artic. I tested again, by putting my hand back in the room & there as I looked down in awe upon it, frost began to form & my skin appeared to loose its colour, seeming a dark blueish. I pulled back the sleeves of my gown as it wen up & my hand glistened as I rotated it in front of me & the blueish hue crept up my wrist & arm, followed by frost that came with, its subtle sound, like that of 1000 wind chimes, whispering in the rain. I hadn't noticed before, though now I was firmly awake & I began to struggle with breathing. As my chest began to tighten, I gasped & hoped back out onto the landing & what is this, even more splendour, as my breath disappeared & my skin became brown again, as the warm landing instantly bought the life to my flesh & blood. I turned & walk towards the stairs & the floor boards creaked with every step. I took time, as not to wake mother as she slept in the room. Directly opposite my room was the bathroom & above the bathroom door on the ceiling, a small loft door. Mothers room is next to the bathroom door & opposite the stairs. No one had been in the loft since Grandma died suddenly one night, in the months coming up to Christmas 10 years ago. 

I moved back with Mother when I heard about Grandmas passing & although she was at first stricken with grief, she seemed to come to terms with her mother departing & the following Christmas after that, she would insist that “Grandmas here & she’s got it all under control”, then she'd carry on about her day, pottering around the rooms of the house, folding sheets & preparing food in a merry fashion. Every floorboard from the upstairs landing, in Mothers room & to the bottom of the stairs were all creaky, due to years of use & not being renovated.

Around Christmas eve meal though, Mother would always put a plate for Grandmother, which I thought was peculiar, though I did not so openly require myself to ask Mother of it. I thought it a harmless tradition she started during her times of bereavement, to help her get by & I wouldn’t want to upset Mother by speaking much about Grandmother at Christmas. Mother is 65 years old & after caring for her mother for the past fifteen years, she now really appreciates her sleep & that seems fair & Its ok that she sleeps & snores her lengthy snoring, albeit such a constant feature at night, as well as her tumbling into bed to sleep. 

So, then on to the stairs. I stepped out of my slippers, committing the rest of my journey to the nimbleness of my feet, tip-toeing with the precaution of a small, soft & tender footed rabbit, whilst my finger tips use the bannister, to cushion the weight of my walking upon the landing & stairs. Whilst holding my breath & as slowly as I evenly crept, I could not withstand to abhor for that agonising sound that accompanies each & every half step. Should even a single pinkie toe dare to transgress, it has the threat to antagonise & punish each individual step, of which the step would squeal & the resonance of it would have awoken Mother. Halfway down the stairs, I became distracted by my thoughts of how well I was keeping up my silence, when with a treacherous miss step, I distured a section of the stairs that was sore & in need of repair. I poised still as a panther with my body gripped in fear, as the clamorous & ear piercing sound of wood splitting between the vulnerable softness of my feet, felt as though my soles were been pricked & attacked by tiny arrows. However, I would not add to the sound by crying ouch! Out aloud. I anticipated that the sudden creaking of the wood, should only agitate her waking further. Although her snore is rather turned up, Mother is only 5”1 and she speaks with a soft & humbled voice expression. She's a sweet little lady, with a big heart & an even bigger snore. 

Now then, something changed in the atmosphere. I noticed that now there was an even stiller silence & realised that I could no longer hear Mother snoring. The silence grew even longer, the space of about 20 seconds in all, then the light began flickering from light to dark, making a fuzzy, buzzing sound, searing like electricity, or three wasps fighting several bees, fizzing in aerial combat. The fuzzing began to cease, to more of a flicking sound, like someone was tapping Mothers bedroom door. First twice, then three more quickly, until an unbroken & efficient knock, repeated on mothers door 12 times.

I looked around in panic & began to quiver, experiencing a rush of thoughts & emotions of fear, speculating what could have caused that knocking & did it wake up Mother. Then, to add to the mood of anticipation, knocking began on Mothers door & at the loft, one after another, repeatedly, increasing in resonance & rumbling every couple of knocks, before settling down to silence. After 10 seconds of me breathing heavily, the lights go out, all I can see is moonlight, shining on the bathroom door, then a sudden fog that came in & gathered eerily slow ahead of me, at the bottom of the stairs. On the landing, fog gathered with a rush of icy cold & frosted air, that poured out of my room door & seeped through the gaps under mothers room door & the bathroom door & the loft. Through the door, the muffled voice of my Mother could be heard behind the door, saying with a soft tone “its ok, its ok, your Grandmother took care of it”. 

Then another silence occurred for the space of three to five seconds. I looked at My mothers door in fright, then suddenly, the loft door flung open presenting a corpse, fastened upside down to a chair. He was nothing but dead skin & old bones suspended above in mid air, its face, decomposed & rotten. As the bones stopped shaking from their rattling drop from the loft, Mother, creaking open her bedroom door slowly, looks me in the eye & whispers, in soft voice

“That’s your Grandad, mother said she took care of it, now everything's ok, I'm going back to bed...Merry Christmas Mother!

I had never met my Grandad before, his name was unspoken in this house.