Knitted Memories
By Dan Leicht
Christmas favorites played throughout the car as Clark tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm. He hoped there would still be enough snow left on the hill when he arrived with his children, both eager to make it down the fabled "mountain" he'd told them about.
His wife Jennifer, sitting in the passenger seat, and perhaps wishing for at least some cloud cover herself, placed a gloved hand on his thigh.
"I know what you're thinking," she said, "and it'll be fine. This is going to be a wonderful tradition. Gosh, how long has it been since we've been back?"
"Too long," he replied.
"Maybe the kids could get in a few runs before the sun..."
It started out as a sprinkle of flakes, a few dozen, then a few more. By the time Clark pulled the van into the parking lot of the modest park, a flurry of winter had taken hold as far as the eye could see.
Jack and his younger sister Elise tried to catch snowflakes on their tongues as their father fetched the sleds from the trunk. Clark grinned at their delight, knowing he'd be doing the same thing if he were young again.
But why should that matter?
A smile curled up the sides of his face as he stepped back from the van and tilted his head back.
"Dad caught one!" shouted Elise.
It didn't take long for Jennifer to join in, too. The family danced past each other as they traded places for a taste of the descending delicacies.
Wayward Hill, or as Clark and his friends used to call it "Sled Hammer Hill", took a three-minute trek from the bottom to reach the top, which bustled with people as kids flew past them back toward the bottom, where a pop-up stand selling hot chocolate resided for the festive Christmas Eve outing.
The main side, which most people used, was wide enough to fit an endless stream of riders, while on the back existed a steeper slope, kept narrow by trees on either side.
Memories of years past twirled like snowflakes as Carl neared the top of the hill, pulling along his eight-year-old on the red sled as Jennifer pulled their five-year-old daughter.
He looked over the edge of the steeper side, and in the distance spotted a memory, his teenage self, sitting alongside teenage Jennifer. He wore his beige winter jacket, complete with warm cotton around the collar, with a pair of jeans not nearly thick enough, and the knitted cap he’d gotten as a gift from his grandmother, with swirls of orange and red, the back of it lopped over like Santa’s cap. She wore a snowsuit as blue as her eyes, with mittens and earmuffs to match. Both had gone down the slope at the same time, the descent filled with cheerful cries as they laughed and shouted at one another, "I'm going to win!"
It ended up a tie, or so Clark liked to believe. Jennifer looked over at him at the bottom of the hill, her blue eyes like glowing snow at sunset. They'd gone down as strangers, but as he looked over at her it was as if they'd always known one another. He couldn’t believe his luck, or the fact his friends had to coerce him to go out in the first place. He thought he outgrew sledding; having forgotten how much fun it really is.
She got up first and offered her hand to help him to his feet. As she pulled, she lost her footing, the two of them toppling over onto his sled and sliding another few feet together, their laughter edging the sled further and further. For the rest of the day, they were inseparable. On Christmas day, after attending the festivities of his own family, he showed up to her house with a gift behind his back.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“You’ll have to open it and see,” he replied.
Clark opted for the larger, and safer, side on this particular outing.
He got on the back of the first slide as his son got in the front. Jennifer and Elise did the same.
"We're going to win," declared Elise.
"What do you think, Jack?" asked Clark. "Do you think we can take them?"
His son turned around in the sled, a mischievous grin on his face, and nodded.
"Last one to the bottom has to buy hot chocolates," said Jennifer.
"I want hot chocolate!" shouted Elise.
"Ready when you are, dad," said Jack.
Clark turned to Jennifer to see her adjusting the knitted cap Elise wore, the very one he’d given to Jennifer on their first Christmas together, and the first and last time he’d ever knitted anything (with his grandmother’s guidance).
“Ready,” said Jennifer.
"One...two..."
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Dan Leicht is a romance, mystery, and science fiction author living in Upstate New York with his wife Barbara and their mischievous tortie cat. He has a Bachelor's in Creative Writing from SUNY Brockport. His work has appeared in Black Cat Weekly, Sci-fi Shorts, 365 Tomorrows, The Kraken Lore, and Ripples in Space.