The Snow­men Kid­nap­pers: A Christ­mas Story

Chloe stopped walk­ing.  Snowflakes drifted down around her.  The air was silent.  But Chloe knew she had heard some­thing.  She stared down at her pur­ple snow-boots al­most cov­ered in snow and lis­tened again, wait­ing.  There it was again!  A whis­per.  The slight­est laugh­ter.  Chloe started to­ward the sound, her steps mak­ing a swish, swish sound in the snow.  She did­n’t even think about the porch light from her house grow­ing fainter as she stepped fur­ther into the woods.  She was so in­tent on find­ing the whis­per­ing— a faint con­ver­sa­tion. 

She stopped to lis­ten again and there it was!  A word. 

“Santa.” 

Chloe’s heart skipped a beat.  She crept for­ward, the cold seep­ing into her mit­tens now.  It was bit­ing her cheeks too.  And the snow was now up to her knees!  But Chloe heard some­one say “Christ­mas” this time and she for­got about the cold.  Fi­nally, she stopped at the edge of a small clear­ing with a gi­ant snow pile in the cen­ter of it.  It sparkled in what moon­light that shown through the skele­tal trees.  She was nearer to who­ever was talk­ing.  She waded through the snow as qui­etly as she could, walk­ing around the edge of the clear­ing, un­til she saw a gap­ing hole dug out of the side of the snow pile.  She gasped at how big it was.  Then clamped a hand over her mouth.  The con­ver­sa­tion stopped.  They had heard her! 

She aban­doned quiet foot­steps and scut­tled be­hind a tree, wait­ing to see if any­one came out of the snow-cave.  But no one did.  The con­ver­sa­tion re­sumed.  Their voices were clearer now that the swish of the snow was­n’t fill­ing her ears when she walked. 

“I say we fol­low Sti­gr’s plan,” said a high-pitched voice. 

“How’re we gon get on the roof though?” 

“Bard’s got a point.  I for­got about that part.” 

They all be­gan to talk at once, shout­ing dif­fer­ent ideas about a lad­der or a song or a snow­ball fight.  Chloe moved around her tree and to­ward the snow-cave, hold­ing her breath. 

“We trick Santa!” 

She froze.  Trick Santa? 

“How?” One of the voices said. 

“Maybe we uh say Runa’s melted.” 

“Why me!” said the high-pitched voice 

“That is­n’t be­liev­able in the cold.  We should say we lost her nose and we need help find­ing it!” 

“That’s bet­ter.” 

“Why me!” the high-pitched voice said again.  Runa, Chloe thought. 

“How long’ll we hold him fo?” 

“As long as we need to.  We can’t let Christ­mas hap­pen–or at least not for a while.” 

Chloe gasped.  The voices stopped.  She held her breath. 

“Did you hear that?” One voice whis­pered. 

“What?” 

Chloe started to back away, the cold mak­ing her teeth chat­ter. 

“Who’s there?”  A voice shouted. 

Chloe kept back­ing up.  Then she heard move­ment from in­side the snow-cave.  The sound was like a sled or some­thing slid across the ground to­ward her.  And fast.  Chloe ran.  She stum­bled, grabbed a tree branch for sup­port, and then kept run­ning.  She glanced be­hind her, but no one was chas­ing her.  The only pe­cu­liar thing was that she thought she saw a fat tree shaped like a snow­man.  It had­n’t been there be­fore — 

“Chloe?” 

Smack!  She ran right into her mother. 

“Chloe!”  Her mother sank to her knees and threw her arms around her daugh­ter.  “I was look­ing every­where.” 

“Momma—”  

“What in the world were you do­ing?!”  She pulled back, look­ing Chloe dead in the eye.  Then her frown soft­ened, and she squeezed Chloe tight to her chest again.  She stood. 

“No Momma, you don’t un­der­stand!  A snow­man just ap­peared out of nowhere.  I think he’s alive.  And there was this snow-cave and it was re­ally big and dark, and there were voices. It’s an evil plan to stop Christ­mas!” 

“Chloe it is­n’t funny.  And I’m not in the mood.  I was se­ri­ously freak­ing out!” 

“No Momma it’s true—” 

“Not right now.  Come on,” her mother said and scooped her into her arms.  She trudged them the rest of the way to the house, round­ing the cor­ner to the dri­ve­way Chloe’s dad had shov­eled that morn­ing.  It was now cov­ered in a thin layer of snowflakes.  Chloe’s mother set her down. 

“Momma, I’m telling the truth you know,” Chloe protested. 

Her mother looked at her and then shook her head.  Chloe did­n’t know how else to tell her and tried to think of a way as they headed in­side. 

“Momma, there re­ally was a cave,” Chloe tried again as her mother took off her snow gear.  “Please, momma.  I heard them say San­ta’s name!” 

“And what about Santa?”  Her mother asked, pulling off a snow boot. 

“They are go­ing to trick him!” 

“No one can trick Santa, dear,” her mother said.  “Be­sides, you must go to bed if you want to see pre­sents un­der that tree in the morn­ing.”  Chloe could see the smile hid­ing be­hind that fake frown. 

“You don’t be­lieve me!”  Chloe yanked off the other boot and ran to her room.  She slammed the door and started to cry.  But Chloe did­n’t cry long.  She de­cided that she would have to save Christ­mas with­out Momma.  And if Momma did­n’t be­lieve her, she knew that Daddy would­n’t ei­ther.  So, she had to save Santa and Christ­mas by her­self.  She did­n’t know who was in the cave that night, but she was pretty sure Bard and Stigr were snow­men and Runa was a snow­woman. How else could she ex­plain the snow­man-shaped tree? 

Chloe’s mother came to tuck her into bed.  “Re­mem­ber, if Santa feels that you’re awake, he won’t drop off the pre­sents.  He’ll fly on by and de­liver other pre­sents un­til you fall back asleep.” 

Chloe nod­ded, still wish­ing her mother would be­lieve her.  But she knew that it was no use.  Af­ter her mother shut the lights off, Chloe waited in bed, star­ing up at the dark ceil­ing.  Soon she would hear the thump of Santa on their roof.  Momma did­n’t know very much about Santa.  Chloe knew Momma only said that be­cause she wanted Chloe to get some sleep.  But she had been awake last Christ­mas too and Santa had de­liv­ered the pre­sents.  She had heard him on the roof, and she had even seen him put the pre­sents un­der the tree!  He was­n’t as fat like in the movies.  And he wore not round glasses but square ones, like dad.  She’d never let him know that she was awake, just in case.  But tonight, she would have to, even if she did­n’t get pre­sents.  San­ta’s life de­pended on it. 

Thump.  Chloe sat up.  He was here!  She slipped out of bed and stuffed her feet into her snow boots.  She opened the door; it creaked a lit­tle.  She tip-toed past Momma and Dad­dy’s room and into the liv­ing room.  Thump.  Voices! 

Chloe aban­doned quiet and flung open the front door.  She ran out of the house so she could get a bet­ter look on the roof.  There was Santa.  His rein­deer were nowhere in sight.  He did­n’t even have a gi­ant bag of pre­sents!  He was walk­ing on the roof, pac­ing.  And oc­ca­sion­ally he would stomp.  Maybe Rudolf had been a bad boy and took off? 

“Santa?”  Chloe called. 

Santa whirled around.  His eyes widened.  He gasped.  Slipped. 

“Santa!”  Chloe ran to­ward him.  He slid down the roof like it was a slide and crashed into a snow­bank. 

“Hey thanks kid,” a voice chuck­led be­hind her 

Chloe turned. 

Three gi­ant snow­men the size of Momma stared down at her, their beady eyes squint­ing. 

Chloe screamed.  She ran to­ward the fallen Santa. 

“Santa, get up!”  She flung her­self at where he fell and pounded on his chest.  “Wake up!”  His white hair cov­ered his face.  Maybe he could­n’t breathe— 

“Now!”  A voice said. 

Chloe looked just in time to see one of the snow­man’s tree-branch-hand whack her in the face.  She saw stars and felt cold. 

“Chloe!”  Some­one called her name 

She sat up, rub­bing her head.  The snow­men were run­ning away! 

“Chloe!” 

She blinked.  They had got Santa too! 

“Santa!”  She called, dash­ing af­ter him. 

“Get your momma!”  Santa called.  “Get Mom!” 

“No, she does­n’t be­lieve me, Santa!”  Chloe kept run­ning.  But the snow­men were fast.  They weren’t run­ning.  They were rolling.  Faster than a bike.  Soon, Santa faded out of sight and dis­ap­peared into the woods.  He was gone. 

Chloe stood there in shock.  But only for a mo­ment.  She had to get Momma and Daddy, even if they would­n’t be­lieve her.  She had to try. 

As soon as she ran into the house, she called out for them. 

“What?  What is it?”  Momma stum­bled out of the room. 

“It’s Santa!”  Chloe said. 

Momma pushed past her and out the house.  Chloe fol­lowed. 

“Where?”  she said.  “Where is he?  He fell off the roof, did­n’t he?” 

Chloe waited for her mom to calm down. 

“Chloe, where is he?”  She kept search­ing the snow.  Then she stopped and looked at her daugh­ter.  “Where?!” 

Chloe pointed to­ward the woods.  “They took him, momma.  The snow­men took him.  Just like I said.  San­ta’s gone.” 

Her mother shook her head, rub­bing her tem­ples like when she was up­set and could­n’t think of an an­swer. 

“Momma I don’t lie,” Chloe said. 

“I know, Baby, I know.” 

“Momma stop think­ing, we need to go get Santa now!  Be­fore he’s gone.” 

Momma nod­ded.  “Okay.  Okay, okay, okay.  Get in­side. I’m go­ing to look for him.” 

“But Momma—” 

“No buts.  Get in­side.” 

“What about Daddy?” 

Her Momma paused, star­ing at Chloe with such in­ten­sity, as if she was think­ing of what to say.  Then she said,  “Dad­dy’s al­ready look­ing for him, Sweet­heart.  Now stay here.  We’ll look for him.” 

Chloe did as she was told and watched Momma get ready.  She grabbed her phone, pep­per spray, one of Dad­dy’s guns, and the keys. 

“Stay put, Dear,” Momma said.  “I’m sure San­ta’s fine.  So is Daddy.  Just don’t leave the house.” 

But as soon as Momma closed the front door, Chloe ran to her room to get dressed.  She tugged on her mit­tens, even though they were wet from last night.  She flung open the door.  Slammed it shut.  Momma was al­ready near the edge of the woods.  Chloe wrapped her scarf around her neck tighter and ran.  When she reached the woods, pant­ing, she thought she would­n’t be able to tell where to go, but the snow­men left one big trail that was easy to fol­low.  Mom­ma’s foot­steps were there too. 

The trail was­n’t as long as Chloe thought ei­ther.  In fact, it led her straight back to the clear­ing with the snow-cave.  And there was Momma, back pressed against a tree, her gun ready.  The voices were there again.  The snow­men. 

“You’re not the real Santa?”  A high-pitched voice said.  Runa. 

“Well how’re ya dressed up like ‘im?” 

“We find it hard to be­lieve.  You look just like him.” 

“No, I just pre­tend to be!”  Dad’s voice! 

Momma tensed. 

“Momma,” Chloe whis­pered. 

She jumped and pointed her gun.  When she saw it was Chloe, she looked hor­ri­fied.  “Chloe?” 

“I can help,” Chloe said, stand­ing next to her.  She felt safe now. 

Momma lis­tened in on the con­ver­sa­tion. 

“Does Santa lie?” said a voice. 

“I don think so.” 

“No, he does­n’t.  But I’m not Santa!” Dad cried.  “It was only for my daugh­ter Chloe!” 

Chloe frowned.  “Momma why—” 

“Shh.” 

The voices stopped. 

“Did you hear that?” 

Momma bent down to her daugh­ter’s ear.  “Stay here, okay?  I mean it.” 

Then she rounded the tree and dis­ap­peared in­side the cave.  Then there was light.  Chloe could see it now.  Momma stood at the front, point­ing the gun.  She was hold­ing her phone as a light.  In the mid­dle of the cave was not Santa but Daddy!  And he looked scared.  He was tied to an ice pole with a red scarf. There were three snow­men all look­ing at Momma.  But they had no ex­pres­sion on their faces. 

“What is she hold­ing?”  Runa said. 

“Leave. This is­n’t your busi­ness,” the snow­man with the top hat sneered at Momma. 

Momma took a step back.  Her hand was shak­ing. 

“Re­bekka!”  Daddy said. 

“What’s go­ing on?”  Momma said. 

“Dear, I wish I could tell you.” 

“Enough!” said the snow­man with the top hat.  “We are here for one thing and one thing only.” 

“Santa Clause,” Runa said. 

“No,” the third snow­man growled.  “To stop Christ­mas.” 

“No Bard, not to just stop Christ­mas!” said Top Hat.  “But to keep win­ter for­ever!” 

Bard and Runa mum­bled agree­ments with him. 

“Why?”  Daddy said. 

Runa scoffed.  “So we don’t melt.  We want to stay here.  We like it here.” 

“Stop­ping our fam­ily Christ­mas is­n’t go­ing to help,” Momma said.  Her voice shook but she still looked like she was ready for any­thing. 

“Not your Christ­mas, dar­ling,” said Runa.  “But the world.” 

“You did­n’t stop it!”  Chloe jumped out from be­hind the tree. 

“Chloe!”  Momma scolded. 

Chloe con­tin­ued even though now the snow­men looked a lot meaner and scarier.  “Santa is­n’t real, is he?”  She looked straight at daddy when she said it.  Her heart felt like it might break. 

Daddy hung his head. 

“Santa?  Not real?” said Top Hat. 

“How’re we gonna to stop Christ­mas now?”  The snow­man called Bard said. 

“Or keep win­ter for­ever?” wailed Runa. 

They seemed to growl, and Chloe was sure that they would be frown­ing if they had eye­brows. 

“You can’t,” she said. 

The snow­men stared at Chloe.  They looked even more an­gry. 

“Santa is­n’t real,” Chloe said.  “Don’t you see it now?  You can’t keep win­ter around for­ever.” 

The snow­men blinked at her.  Then they started to close in on her.  Top Hat snarled. 

“But maybe you can stay,” Chloe said.  An idea formed in her mind. 

“We can’t stay in sum­mer.  We’re not like Olaf,” Top Hat said. 

“Olaf?”  Chloe frowned.  “How do you know him?” 

“How could we not?”  Runa squeaked.  “He is the only snow­man known to live in sum­mer un­til the next win­ter!” 

Chloe glanced at her par­ents.  “That’s be­cause of Elsa.” 

The snow­men looked at each other.  They did­n’t know who Elsa was. 

“Well Olaf also said that wa­ter is mem­ory,” Chloe said. 

“Of course,” Runa said. 

“Then when you melt, you won’t re­ally ever go away,” Chloe said.  “You will still be here.” 

“We know that,” said Bard.  “But we wanna see sum­mer.” 

“You have seen it,” Chloe in­sisted.  “Wa­ter is mem­ory.  You’ve seen it be­fore, haven’t you?” 

They frowned. 

“You can re­mem­ber, if you try hard enough.  The leaves in your pud­dle.  The flow­ers you wa­tered.  And the sky you fell from.  It’s all there.  I think you just for­got.” 

They stared at her blankly.  But maybe that was their way of think­ing be­cause Top Hat’s mouth curved into a smile.  Then he said, “She’s try­ing to trick us.  I say we freeze ‘em, es­pe­cially Santa.” 

Chloe’s mom shot the gun, blow­ing off Top Hat’s face.  Chloe screamed.  Momma shot again, this time at the pole that Daddy was tied to.  He slipped the scarf over the pole and scram­bled to­ward his wife and Chloe. 

“They’re get­tin’ away,” Bard said, but he did­n’t move. 

“So they are,” Runa said as Chloe’s par­ents hur­ried to get out of the cave.  “I think the kid’s right, Bard.  I think we just for­got.” 

Chloe’s mom scooped her up. 

“Bye!” Chloe shouted.  Runa waved.  But then Top Hat’s body moved.  That was all Chloe saw be­fore her par­ents whisked her away back to the house. 

--::------><------::-- 

The next morn­ing, Chloe woke up with a start.  It was all a dream!  She leaped out of bed and ran to the liv­ing room.  There were the pre­sents un­der the tree.  Every­thing was spot­less.  The cook­ies and milk were gone, and the stock­ings were stuffed. 

“Momma!  Daddy!”  Chloe called. 

There was a thump in their room.  And then a grunt.  The door was yanked open and both her par­ents stag­gered out of the room, her dad hold­ing a bat and her mom point­ing the gun. 

Chloe smiled.  It was­n’t a dream.  The snow­men were real.