The Snowman Maker by Barbara Briggs Ward (reading eggs books txt) 📕

Excerpt from ‘The Snowman Maker’

Barbara Briggs Ward

Once they traveled beyond stone walls and picket fences and over abandoned railroad tracks, it was all open fields to the backwoods. Henry owned the mighty parcel of land, along with other properties in the region. He’d been offered millions by developers but had no interest in selling any of it.

“Enough of nature has been turned into asphalt and condos,” he’d tell those coming to him with those hefty offers. “I don’t need the money, and even if I did, I wouldn’t sell my soul to make it. Call me quirky, but for as long as I live, this land will remain untouched.”

Despite being in the business of building, Ben agreed with Henry. He’d always choose rolling landscapes over slick construction jobs. He preferred going into abandoned places or deserted downtowns and restoring them. As with the primitives in the carriage house, aesthetics was a priority.

“How fast can they go?”

“After we get through this last thicket, you’ll find out, Andy.”

It didn’t take long. With the clump of pines behind them, Henry signaled. The horses were off.

“Pull the blankets up, Ben!”

Henry’s words drifted into the wind. It didn’t matter. Ben had ridden with Henry before. Knowing what to expect, he put his arm around Ellie, pulling her closer. Even in the freezing cold, she felt his warmth, despite his distance. She tried not to let it ruin the moment, but that was nearly impossible when she remembered past Christmases when they’d chose a November weekend for shopping in the city. Ben would make reservations at the Plaza in early September. Ellie loved it there. A horse and carriage ride around Central Park was as much a part of their plans as was Ben surprising Ellie with a gift while riding into the night, covered in fancier blankets than the ones now covering them. Being the romantic that he was, Ben would point out the gift wasn’t a Christmas gift; rather it was “a little something” to show her how much he loved her. Funny thing was that little something was always Broadway tickets. Ellie loved Broadway. Just walking around Times Square brought her back to her senior year when she nailed the lead role in the school play. Everyone was amazed by her voice, even the young man who surprised her when returning home for opening night. Many encouraged Ellie to continue with her voice after graduation. She wasn’t much of a gambler back then, plus her father insisted she go into nursing.

“You’ll always have a job,” he’d repeat whenever Ellie questioned his logic. He saw the world as black and white. That was how he ran his life and those of the people around him.

They didn’t do the weekend in New York this year. Ben couldn’t find the time. That let down added to Maggie’s email saying she wouldn’t be home for Christmas. She’d decided to spend the holidays with associates. Skiing in the Alps was in her plans.

“It is a chance to network,” she explained. “Anyone who’s anyone will be there. I’ll try to get back for a week in the summer.”

Ellie had seen the disappointment in Ben’s eyes. Maggie was Daddy’s little girl. They’d spend a good part of a day out Christmas shopping, returning with their arms full of presents. So much was changing. Ellie felt as if she had no control over any of it. It wasn’t about the gifts anymore. When she thought about that, it never was about the gifts.

The morning’s brilliance was deceiving. While the temperature hovered around fifteen degrees, the wind chill factor made it even colder. It didn’t matter. With the horses galloping at full speed, Andy held on with all his might while Henry led his steeds through the powder-like snow. The once-distant tree line was suddenly in front of them. In an instant Henry pulled back on the reins. Into the woods they went.

The silence was deafening. Except for the horses snorting, any noise was cushioned by pine and balsam spread out as far as the eye could see.

“We’ll take it slow. The best trees aren’t too far in.”

Henry was a master at leading the horses through and around the denseness. At one point he let Andy have a try.

“Hold the reins like so,” he explained. “They’ll do the rest.”

Henry was right. While a few minutes before they’d been going full speed, the horses now gracefully lifted one hoof in front of the other. As they broke into the untouched snow, chunks of the stuff danced into the air.

“Snow’s pretty heavy in here,” said Henry. “It reminds me of winters long ago, before they started playing with the environment.”

“You believe in that stuff, Henry?” Andy asked.

“Just saying. Winters used to be harsh like winters should be. Otherwise you don’t appreciate spring. You must be studying that stuff, aren’t you?”

“Some.”

“How do you study some?”

Wings fluttering up from a thicket startled the horses.

“Pull back, son. There’s more grouse in those barbs.”

A cloud of startled birds lifted up in front of them as Andy did what Henry directed. When the horses quieted down, deeper into the woods they went.

“So,” Henry continued, “tell me how you study some. Seems to me studying is a part of college life. I realize you think you know it all, but believe me, you don’t know a thing even if you’re hooked up to those contraptions.”

“I get what you’re saying, Henry, but I’m quitting school. I want to live life my way.”

“You’re quitting school to avoid earning a degree that will open doors for you?”

“There’s no guarantee that it will.”

“There’s no guarantee on anything.”

“I need some sort of a guarantee. That’s why I started my band. I don’t want to put off doing what I know I want to do-while I do what others think I should do.”

Ellie and Ben were listening to the conversation. They’d known their son played in a band. They didn’t know it was actually his band.

Ben couldn’t hold back. “I understand the freedom you are after, Andy. I respect you for that, but I don’t want you to look back some twenty years from now with regret.”

“If I don’t go for it now, Dad, in twenty years, I could look back and regret that I didn’t listen to what makes me tick.” Andy paused. “We’ve signed with an agent.”

“But school,” said Ellie. “You’re still in school.”

“Not much longer, Mom. I signed the contract before cutting the CD.”

“What CD?”

“This one, Dad.”  Andy pulled a manila envelope from his coat pocket. “We’re going on tour.”

They didn’t realize that they’d reached the pine grove, or that the sleigh had come to a halt, or that Henry was off the sleigh, releasing snowshoes strapped to the flatbed.

“I was going to give this to you and Mom for Christmas. I changed our name, Dad. Like it?”

While Henry pushed snowshoes into the snow, Ben unwrapped what was inside the mailer covered by newspaper and taped at both ends. Tears came to his eyes.

“The guys like the name as much as I do. You saw Hendrix, Dad. You saw the master on stage.”

Maybe it was realizing this was a heartfelt conversation between a father and son, or maybe it was the way Ben looked at the CD. Either way, Ellie had seen him bite his lower lip like that before. She knew he was overwhelmed, but what she didn’t know was the reason why.

“Dad? Don’t you get it? I named the band after you.”

“You shouldn’t have, Andy. I don’t deserve it.”

“But Dad, you are the Architect in so many ways. I bet you could have soloed up on that stage.”

Ben wrapped the CD back up and slid it inside the envelope. Handing it to Andy, he stood, jumped off the sleigh, and strapped on a pair of snowshoes. In seconds, he was going full speed through the drifts-running away to nowhere.

“Hey Dad! Wait!”

Andy had never been on snowshoes, but that didn’t slow him down.

“Wait, Dad! I know I should have talked to you about quitting school, but it’s my life, Dad!”

Ellie was out of the sleigh. She stood there, buried in snow. Watching Ben, she felt like she was watching a little boy lost and trying to find his way back home in the storm. In seconds her instinct would prove to be true.

Ben kept up the marathon. It was Henry who waved the red flag. “Ben, stop! I know what’s eating at you.”

A breeze coming from behind them pushed some of the snow off branches as Henry called out again. “You can’t escape it, Ben. You’re not a quitter.”

“Dad!” Andy was right behind his father now. “What’s wrong, Dad? You’re the best, Dad!”

Ben stopped as abruptly as he’d begun. Catching his breath, he lifted his face to the wind. With his eyes shut, he inhaled and then slowly exhaled, as if accepting the moment. With Andy by his side, they headed back to the sleigh. They didn’t speak as snowbirds followed and rabbits skipping into the underbrush stopped. Mother Nature seemed to sense this man who embraced neglected objects was hurting.

Standing next to Ellie, Henry spoke in a whisper. “It’s harder for a man to express his feelings, especially a proud man like your husband.”

‘Henry doesn’t know the Ben I do’, she thought. ‘We have a connection’. Sometimes on warm summer evenings when it was just the two of them in the stone home, they’d sleep on the screened-in sun porch on a pull-out sofa. It was nothing fancy. The feather mattress had its lumps. But it didn’t stop the star-watching ad the lovemaking which took on even deeper meaning as years turned into milestones and worries came and went. Up until Ben’s father died, they still couldn’t get enough of each other. They’d still play classical music on their record console as pleasure turned to ecstasy.

But pleasure was far from her mind as Ben got closer. From the sadness in his eyes to the anger in his spirit, Ellie sensed that the Ben approaching was even more crippled than she’d realized. To her surprise, he grabbed hold of her. It wasn’t out of love. Rather, it was fear. Knowing him like she did, Ellie didn’t wait for an explanation. He was holding on for dear life.

“Tell me, Ben,” she said. “Whatever it is, we can get through it. That’s what we’ve always done.”

With tears streaming down his face, Ben whispered in her ear. His words were muffled. She didn’t catch what he’d said. Pulling back, Ellie asked   in a firmer voice. “Tell me Ben. Tell me right now. Tell me what has taken you away from me.”

And so-he did.

Barbara Briggs Ward grew up in the country surrounded by relatives and a backdrop of fields, pastures, a creek, old barn, and an abandoned chicken coop turned into a clubhouse which all played a part in stimulating Barbara’s imagination and planting the seed to become a writer. That seed has never gone away.

To learn more please visit: barbarabriggsward.com