Footprints in the Snow

“Ok, Bernard, are you good to go? Ready to rumble? Hot to trot?”

“I… I… I think so.”

“What do you mean, you think so?”

Bernard shivered. Despite his layers – all eight of them – he could not shake out the chill that the evening had injected into his bones. His gloved hands gripped the sled beneath him. “Well, Nick, it’s just that I’ve not done this in a long time…”

“And?”

“… and I’m nowhere near as young as I once was…”

“One of the general trends of ageing, that is.”

“… and I suppose that I am a bit worried that I may be in a much-changed state, both physically and mentally, come the bottom of the hill as I currently am at the top of it.”

“One where you’re a bit… how’s to say… broken and bruised?”

Bernard twiddled his moustache to break off the growing frost. “Broken… bruised… incapacitated… maimed…”

Nick unleashed his customary bellow. It filled the valley below. “Well, there’s only one way to find out isn’t there, Bernard, my old boy. Are you braced?”

“Well… I… uh…”

“Onward!”

Like sandpaper, the hilltop air grated Bernard’s cheeks, nose and ears as he very suddenly found himself gliding forward. Fuelling his terror, Nick’s quickening footsteps pummelled the snow behind him with a THUD THUD THUD. The sled was gaining pace. 

“Nick, please slow down… please… I think I might…” 

But whatever Bernard thought he might do was lost to the night. With a yelp, Nick wrapped his bear-arms around Bernard’s slender midriff as his paunch heaved into his back. Bernard wanted to close his eyes before the imminent drop – everything was a bit less scary when you closed your eyes – but too late, the starry landscape above had already been dragged up and out of sight. The sled flew into the abyss. 

“Yippeee!” squealed Nick, a strangely high-pitched noise for such a large, bearded fellow, as they juddered down the hillside, leaning one way then the other to stay balanced, leaving nothing but powder and yelps of delight in their wake. “Wahooo!”

Eventually, the steepness of the hill flattened out, and the pair skidded to a stop. 

“Whoa,” said Nick, a ripe smile upon his plump face. “Fun?”

Bernard’s breath tumbled down the hill to catch up with him. “Fun,” he agreed.

“Again?”

Bernard took a quick inventory of the state of his limbs and ego. Everything seemed to be in order. “Again!”

Many more times, Nick and Bernard trudged up the snowy hill as fast as their old, heavy legs could carry them, before zipping and zooming back down, faster and faster on each attempt, screaming with glee like the children they had long since been.

Embarking upon the hill one final time for one agreed-upon final run, the pair took a much needed moment to rest. Perched on one end of the sled, Nick lifted a flask from one pocket of his now very-damp sheepskin coat. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said, gazing out at the midnight landscape ahead of them while pouring two steaming cocoas into two pewter mugs. “Remember when we used to come out here every evening? Back when we were nippers?”

“Aye, and look at how we’ve grown,” said Bernard. “Some more than others, I might add…”

“Oh, that’s not fair,” Nick said, punching Bernard on the arm. “I’m not that bad. Just a bit of year-round winter weight, that’s all.”

“As you say.” 

Their laughter bumbled into the munching of the cookies Nick had produced from another pocket.

“Can I ask you something, Bernard?”

“Of course.” 

“Are you worried about it?”

Bernard paused. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Honestly…” Bernard nodded. “Honestly, I am.”

Nick tucked into a third cookie. “What are you worried about?”

“About everything really. Always over-analysing things, you know me. The ultimate worrywart.”

“Go on. What’s one thing that’s worrying you?”

Bernard, his mind a bucket of worms, plucked out the fattest, wiggliest one. 

“I’m just worried that I’ll let you down.”

Nick brushed the crumbs of his fifth cookie from his knees. “Let me down? How on earth could you do that?” 

“Just by… well… just by…”

“Just by what, Bernard?”

“Well, just by being me.”

Nick did not answer right away, but when he did eventually speak, he did so in that measured, fire-crackling voice of his. It was a voice that made Bernard feel that everything might be ok.

“Bernard, as I’ve always said, you’re like a slightly younger brother to me…”

“I am your slightly younger brother.”

“… and I would trust no one else to take over. That is why I’ve entrusted it to you. You, Bernard. No one else. No one knows better than you about what we do.” 

“But I only know about the numbers, Nick. Finances. Budgets. The statistical side of things. Not about what really matters. Not about the side where the magic happens.”

“Ah, you give me too much credit. I wing it mostly.” Nick devoured his ninth. “And those things that I don’t wing, Mary is behind, I just take the credit. Remember to listen to her, Nick. She’ll help you. And also listen to yourself. Listen to your ideas and how you may do things differently to me. It might not seem like it, especially at the beginning, but you’ll find your way.” He looked at the pocket watch now resting in his hand. “Almost time, Bernard, my lad. How about one last sled ride for a couple of old-timers for old times’ sake?”

The pair jumped aboard and slid down the hill one final time. Reaching the bottom, the squeeze of Nick’s embrace was swept away by the swift breeze that whistled through the valley towards the road. Upon it there perched a sleigh, its sleek runners steady on the ice. In the front seat, bearing a lantern to light the way, sat a woman.

“It’s time, Bernard,” she said, jumping down to greet him. She handed him a red woollen coat trimmed with white fur. “Nick would have wanted you to have this. I’ve fixed the holes in the pockets but have left the resident mice nesting there. Nick always said they kept him company, so I didn’t have the heart to turf them out. And I've popped some cookies in there for you, too. Need to fill you out a bit." She patted his stomach. "So, are you ready?” 

Bernard nodded. 

“Good.” Now the woman pulled out a map; a dog-eared one, held together by tape. “Remember, the first stop is East Coast Canada, then down to New England, then back up towards…”

Bernard released the map from her grip. “It’s ok, Mary, I’ll find my way.” 

The night sky reflecting in her eyes, Mary went to say something but must have lost the words somewhere along the way. 

“Now, before you go,” she said, finding some new ones. "I’d like to introduce you to Noelle. She’ll be taking over your old position at the workshop.”

A fresh-faced, keen-eyed young woman stepped forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” 

Offering his salutations, Bernard flipped his brother’s old coat around his shoulders and climbed aboard the sleigh. With a whip of the reins and a jingle of bells, the sleigh shuffled the first few inches of its long, winding journey.

Before it took flight, Bernard glimpsed back towards his hillside of happy memories with a weight in his heart, for all that now remained of his previous, much simpler life was a single set of footprints in the snow.