December 3 – Old Man Winter

Molly and Schrodinger felt the memory fall away from them, and then they were back in the present. Who was that? Schrodinger asked her.

I don’t know, Molly replied. Maybe it doesn’t really matter? We can look and see later. Sue might know. Sue Elder ran the Carter’s Cove museum and history center. She would be able to help them discover who Logan had been.

The Librarian might know too, Schrodinger added. The Librarian was the knowledge keeper of his clan of CrossCats, and she would definitely be a resource to use.

Jack’s leaf hung on one of the branches, and now it was Old Man Winter’s turn. The big man looked out over the crowd until he spotted Molly.

“There were a lot of Christmases that I spent in Carter’s Cove, but it was a recent one that made me remember what I had forgotten,” Old Man Winter said. He held up a figure in his hand. “And now, I give this for you all to remember me.”

The St. Nicholas figure he held up was clad in bright red robes, with white fur trim and a merry spray of holly pinned to the front of his hat. The familiar fog wrapped around them, and then Molly and Schrodinger were standing in front of Crosswinds Books. The snowflakes danced around them as they watched themselves, Sue, Drew, and Lai load up a large sledge with boxes and boxes. Two huge shaggy reindeer were hooked to the sledge with holly wrapped around their antlers, large brass jingle bells bright on their harnesses. 

That’s us! The day we delivered the gingerbread! That was so much fun!!! Schrodinger bounced next to her. I wonder if we can do it again!

“I think that can be arranged,” Old Man Winter said, and both Molly and Schrodinger jumped. He winked at them, laughter rumbling up from deep within. “What, did you think you were the only ones here?”

“We weren’t sure,” Molly admitted. “Are we really seeing your memories?”

“Yes, and no.” 

How can it be both? Schrodinger asked.

“Magic,” Old Man Winter said simply. “Every story weaves another layer into the magic that makes Carter Cove what it is. This is a very special place, you know.”

“So everyone is seeing these memories?” Molly said.

“Not exactly. It depends on how sensitive they are.” Old Man Winter watched himself come out of the store carrying the final box, the gingerbread sculpture that Molly did for Schrodinger’s friend Sarah every year. The Old Man Winter in the memory was dressed very similarly to the St. Nicholas figure, although instead of a hat, his robes had a hood trimmed with white fur that was hard to separate from the beard that covered his face. “Many will just hear the stories. Some might even see hints of what you see, but I think the two of you are very much a part of the magic of Carter’s Cove, deep to the core of who you are. So you see more.” He smiled, looking a little wistful. “You are making gingerbread this year, aren’t you, Molly?”

“I am,” she said, grinning. “Will my St. Nicholas be up for a day of deliveries?”

“Oh yes.” He grinned back at them. “Now, enjoy the show. I think you’ll learn a bit.”