Willis, Connie - Just Like The Ones We Used To Know

VIP免费

2024-11-23 0 0 94.74KB 31 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Connie%20Willis%20-%20Just%20Like%20The%20Ones%20We%20Used%20To%20Know.txt

Just Like the Ones We Used to Know by Connie Willis

The snow started at 12:01 a.m. Eastern Standard Time just outside of Branford, Connecticut. Noah

and Terry Blake, on their way home from a party at the Whittiers’ at which Miranda Whittier had

said, "I guess you could call this our Christmas Eve Eve party!" at least fifty times, noticed a

few stray flakes as they turned onto Canoe Brook Road, and by the time they reached home, the snow

was coming down hard.

"Oh, good," Tess said, leaning forward to peer through the windshield, "I’ve been hoping we’d have

a white Christmas this year."

At 1:37 a.m. Central Standard Time, Billy Grogan, filling in for KYZT’s late-night radio request

show out of Duluth, said, "This just in from the National Weather Service. Snow advisory for the

Great Lakes region tonight and tomorrow morning. Two to four inches expected," and then went back

to discussing the callers’ least favorite Christmas songs.

"I’ll tell you the one I hate," a caller from Wauwatosa said. " ‘White Christmas.’ I musta heard

that thing five hundred times this month."

"Actually," Billy said, "according to the St. Cloud Evening News, Bing Crosby’s version of ‘White

Christmas’ will be played 2150 times during the month of December, and other artists’ renditions

of it will be played an additional 1890 times."

The caller snorted. "One time’s too many for me. Who the heck wants a white Christmas anyway? I

sure don’t."

"Well, unfortunately, it looks like you’re going to get one," Billy said. "And, in that spirit,

here’s Destiny’s Child, singing ‘White Christmas.’ "

At 1:45 a.m., a number of geese in the city park in Bowling Green, Kentucky, woke up to a dark,

low, overcast sky and flew, flapping and honking loudly, over the city center, as if they had

suddenly decided to fly farther south for the winter. The noise woke Maureen Reynolds, who

couldn’t get back to sleep. She turned on KYOU, which was playing "Holly Jolly Oldies," including

"Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree" and Brenda Lee’s rendition of "White Christmas."

At 2:15 a.m. Mountain Standard Time, Paula Devereaux arrived at DIA for the red-eye flight to

Springfield, Illinois. It was beginning to snow, and as she waited in line at the express check-in

(she was carrying on her bridesmaid dress and the bag with her shoes and slip and makeup–the last

time she’d been in a wedding, her luggage had gotten lost and caused a major crisis) and in line

at security and in line at the gate and in line to be de-iced, she began to hope they might not be

able to take off, but no such luck.

Of course not, Paula thought, looking out the window at the snow swirling around the wing, because

Stacey wants me at her wedding.

"I want a Christmas Eve wedding," Stacey’d told Paula after she’d informed her she was going to be

her maid of honor, "all candlelight and evergreens. And I want snow falling outside the windows."

"What if the weather doesn’t cooperate?" Paula’d asked.

"It will," Stacey’d said. And here it was, snowing. She wondered if it was snowing in Springfield,

too. Of course it is, she thought. Whatever Stacey wants, Stacey gets, Paula thought. Even Jim.

Don’t think about that, she told herself. Don’t think about anything. Just concentrate on getting

through the wedding. With luck, Jim won’t even be there except for the ceremony, and you won’t

have to spend any time with him at all.

She picked up the in-flight magazine and tried to read and then plugged in her headphones and

listened to Channel 4, "Seasonal Favorites." The first song was "White Christmas" by the Statler

Brothers.

file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/C...ke%20The%20Ones%20We%20Used%20To%20Know.txt (1 of 31) [10/15/2004 2:25:46 PM]

file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Connie%20Willis%20-%20Just%20Like%20The%20Ones%20We%20Used%20To%20Know.txt

At 3:38 a.m., it began to snow in Bowling Green, Kentucky. The geese circling the city flew back

to the park, landed, and hunkered down to sit it out on their island in the lake. Snow began to

collect on their backs, but they didn’t care, protected as they were by down and a thick layer of

subcutaneous fat designed to keep them warm even in sub-zero temperatures.

At 3:39 a.m., Luke Lafferty woke up, convinced he’d forgotten to set the goose his mother had

talked him into having for Christmas Eve dinner out to thaw. He went and checked. He had set it

out. On his way back to bed, he looked out the window and saw it was snowing, which didn’t worry

him. The news had said isolated snow showers for Wichita, ending by mid-morning, and none of his

relatives lived more than an hour and a half away, except Aunt Lulla, and if she couldn’t make it,

it wouldn’t exactly put a crimp in the conversation. His mom and Aunt Madge talked so much it was

hard for anybody else to get a word in edgewise, especially Aunt Lulla. "She was always the shy

one," Luke’s mother said, and it was true, Luke couldn’t remember her saying anything other than

"Please pass the potatoes," at their family get-togethers.

What did worry him was the goose. He should never have let his mother talk him into having one. It

was bad enough her having talked him into having the family dinner at his place. He had no idea

how to cook a goose.

"What if something goes wrong?" he’d protested. "Butterball doesn’t have a goose hotline."

"You won’t need a hotline," his mother had said. "It’s just like cooking a turkey, and it’s not as

if you had to cook it. I’ll be there in time to put it in the oven and everything. All you have to

do is set it out to thaw. Do you have a roasting pan?"

"Yes," Luke had said, but lying there, he couldn’t remember if he did. When he got up at 4:14 a.m.

to check–he did–it was still snowing.

At 4:16 a.m. Mountain Standard Time, Slade Henry, filling in on WRYT’s late-late-night talk show

out of Boise, said, "For all you folks who wanted a white Christmas, it looks like you’re going to

get your wish. Three to six inches forecast for western Idaho." He played several bars of Johnny

Cash’s "White Christmas," and then went back to discussing JFK’s assassination with a caller who

was convinced Clinton was somehow involved.

"Little Rock isn’t all that far from Dallas, you know," the caller said. "You could drive it in

four and a half hours."

Actually, you couldn’t, because I-30 was icing up badly, due to freezing rain that had started

just after midnight and then turned to snow. The treacherous driving conditions did not slow Monty

Luffer down, as he had a Ford Explorer. Shortly after five, he reached to change stations on the

radio so he didn’t have to listen to "those damn Backstreet Boys" singing "White Christmas," and

slid out of control just west of Texarkana. He crossed the median, causing the semi in the left-

hand eastbound lane to jam on his brakes and jackknife, and resulting in a thirty-seven-car pileup

that closed the road for the rest of the night and all the next day.

At 5:21 a.m. Pacific Standard Time, four-year-old Miguel Gutierrez jumped on his mother, shouting,

"Is it Christmas yet?"

"Not on Mommy’s stomach, honey," Pilar murmured and rolled over.

Miguel crawled over her and repeated his question directly into her ear. "Is it Christmas yet?"

"No," she said groggily. "Tomorrow’s Christmas. Go watch cartoons for a few minutes, okay? and

then Mommy’ll get up," and pulled the pillow over her head.

Miguel was back again immediately. He can’t find the remote, she thought wearily, but that

couldn’t be it, because he jabbed her in the ribs with it. "What’s the matter, honey?" she said.

"Santa isn’t gonna come," he said tearfully, which brought her fully awake.

He thinks Santa won’t be able to find him, she thought. This is all Joe’s fault. According to the

original custody agreement, she had Miguel for Christmas and Joe had him for New Year’s, but he’d

file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/C...ke%20The%20Ones%20We%20Used%20To%20Know.txt (2 of 31) [10/15/2004 2:25:46 PM]

file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Connie%20Willis%20-%20Just%20Like%20The%20Ones%20We%20Used%20To%20Know.txt

gotten the judge to change it so they split Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and then, after she’d

told Miguel, Joe had announced he needed to switch.

When Pilar had said no, he’d threatened to take her back to court, so she’d agreed, after which

he’d informed her that "Christmas Day" meant her delivering Miguel on Christmas Eve so he could

wake up and open his presents at Joe’s.

"He can open your presents to him before you come," he’d said, knowing full well Miguel still

believed in Santa Claus. So after supper she was delivering both Miguel and his presents to Joe’s

in Escondido, where she would not get to see Miguel open them.

"I can’t go to Daddy’s," Miguel had said when she’d explained the arrangements, "Santa’s gonna

bring my presents here."

"No, he won’t," she’d said. "I sent Santa a letter and told him you’d be at your daddy’s on

Christmas Eve, and he’s going to take your presents there."

"You sent it to the North Pole?" he’d demanded.

"To the North Pole. I took it to the post office this morning," and he’d seemed contented with

that answer. Till now.

"Santa’s going to come," she said, cuddling him to her. "He’s coming to Daddy’s, remember?"

"No, he’s not," Miguel sniffled.

Damn Joe. I shouldn’t have given in, she thought, but every time they went back to court, Joe and

his snake of a lawyer managed to wangle new concessions out of the judge, even though until the

divorce was final, Joe had never paid any attention to Miguel at all. And she just couldn’t afford

any more court costs right now.

"Are you worried about Daddy living in Escondido?" she asked Miguel. "Because Santa’s magic. He

can travel all over California in one night. He can travel all over the world in one night."

Miguel, snuggled against her, shook his head violently. "No, he can’t!"

"Why not?"

"Because it isn’t snowing! I want it to snow. Santa can’t come in his sleigh if it doesn’t."

Paula’s flight landed in Springfield at 7:48 a.m. Central Standard Time, twenty minutes late. Jim

met her at the airport. "Stacey’s having her hair done," he said. "I was afraid I wouldn’t get

here in time. It was a good thing your flight was a few minutes late."

"There was snow in Denver," Paula said, trying not to look at him. He was as cute as ever, with

the same knee-weakening smile.

"It just started to snow here," he said.

How does she do it? Paula thought. You had to admire Stacey. Whatever she wanted, she got. I

wouldn’t have had to mess with carrying this stuff on, Paula thought, handing Jim the hanging bag

with her dress in it. There’s no way my luggage would have gotten lost. Stacey wanted it here.

"The roads are already starting to get slick," Jim was saying. "I hope my parents get here okay.

They’re driving down from Chicago."

They will, Paula thought. Stacey wants them to.

Jim got Paula’s bags off the carousel and then said, "Hang on, I promised Stacey I’d tell her as

soon as you got here." He flipped open his cell phone and put it to his ear. "Stacey? She’s here.

Yeah, I will. Okay, I’ll pick them up on our way. Yeah. Okay."

He flipped the phone shut. "She wants us to pick up the evergreen garlands on our way," he said,

"and then I have to come back and get Kindra and David. We need to check on their flights before

file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/C...ke%20The%20Ones%20We%20Used%20To%20Know.txt (3 of 31) [10/15/2004 2:25:46 PM]

file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Connie%20Willis%20-%20Just%20Like%20The%20Ones%20We%20Used%20To%20Know.txt

we leave."

He led the way upstairs to ticketing so they could look at the arrival board. Outside the terminal

windows snow was falling–large, perfect, lacy flakes.

"Kindra’s on the two-nineteen from Houston," Jim said, scanning the board, "and David’s on the

eleven-forty from Newark. Oh, good, they’re both on time."

Of course they are, Paula thought, looking at the board. The snow in Denver must be getting worse.

All the Denver flights had "delayed" next to them, and so did a bunch of others: Cheyenne and

Portland and Richmond. As she watched, Boston and then Chicago changed from "on time" to "delayed"

and Rapid City went from "delayed" to "cancelled." She looked at Kindra’s and David’s flights

again. They were still on time.

Ski areas in Aspen, Lake Placid, Squaw Valley, Stowe, Lake Tahoe, and Jackson Hole woke to several

inches of fresh powder. The snow was greeted with relief by the people who had paid ninety dollars

for their lift tickets, with irritation by the ski resort owners, who didn’t see why it couldn’t

have come two weeks earlier when people were making their Christmas reservations, and with whoops

of delight by snowboarders Kent Slakken and Bodine Cromps. They promptly set out from Breckenridge

without maps, matches, helmets, avalanche beacons, avalanche probes, or telling anyone where they

were going, for an off-limits backcountry area with "totally extreme slopes."

At 7:05, Miguel came in and jumped on Pilar again, this time on her bladder, shouting, "It’s

snowing! Now Santa can come! Now Santa can come!"

"Snowing?" she said blearily. In L.A.? "Snowing? Where?"

"On TV. Can I make myself some cereal?"

"No," she said, remembering the last time. She reached for her robe. "You go watch TV some more

and Mommy’ll make pancakes."

When she brought the pancakes and syrup in, Miguel was sitting, absorbed, in front of the TV,

watching a man in a green parka standing in the snow in front of an ambulance with flashing

lights, saying, "–third weather-related fatality in Dodge City so far this morning–"

"Let’s find some cartoons to watch," Pilar said, clicking the remote.

"–outside Knoxville, Tennessee, where snow and icy conditions have caused a multi-car accident–"

She clicked the remote again.

"–to Columbia, South Carolina, where a surprise snowstorm has shut off power to–"

Click.

"–problem seems to be a low-pressure area covering Canada and the northern two-thirds of the

United States, bringing snow to the entire Midwest and Mid-Atlantic States and–"

Click.

"–snowing here in Bozeman–"

"I told you it was snowing," Miguel said happily, eating his pancakes, "just like I wanted it to.

After breakfast can we make a snowman?"

"Honey, it isn’t snowing here in California," Pilar said. "That’s the national weather, it’s not

here. That reporter’s in Montana, not California."

Miguel grabbed the remote and clicked to a reporter standing in the snow in front of a giant

redwood tree. "The snow started about four this morning here in Monterey, California. As you can

see," she said, indicating her raincoat and umbrella, "it caught everybody by surprise."

"She’s in California," Miguel said.

file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/C...ke%20The%20Ones%20We%20Used%20To%20Know.txt (4 of 31) [10/15/2004 2:25:46 PM]

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

Willis, Connie - Just Like The Ones We Used To Know.pdf

共31页,预览4页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

Willis, Connie - Just Like The Ones We Used To Know

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: