On Saturday, April 14, 2012, APD and AFD came together with “A Wish with Wings” and made a dream come true for a 7-year-old boy, Kye, who has leukemia. We granted a Batman adventure wish for Kye. The adventure began at 10 a.m. and ended with a special ceremony at City Hall where Assistant Police Chief James Hawthorne presented Kye a ‘key to the City.’ Kye’s special day included a bank, fake money, motor officers, a bogus “bomb” and couple of cackling villains whose criminal acts were foiled by the good guys.

http://paper.li/lingsc/1327032998

http://blog.acx.com/2012/01/24/shane-berryhill-promotes-literacy-with-his-first-acx-title/

Jack pressed the call button. “Nutcrackers! Jammed!”
Into the stairwell, his body he rammed.
Over the stairs, he formed an ice chute.
Then he skated down. Man, did he scoot!

Jack reached the sublevel to find Dee sitting there.
“He tossed me aside, Jack, taking little care.”
“Tell me, Dee, which way did he go?”
“He went to the right. Be careful. Stay low!”

Jack found the mayor, and him he did seize.
“I’m sorry, Jack! Don’t hurt me, please!”
But Jack wanted to freeze him, he was so mad.
“You kidnapped my, pop! You deserve it, you cad!”

But Santa Claus appeared and calmed Jack down.
“Don’t stoop to his level, son. Don’t be anger’s clown.”
“I’m scared,” Father Time said. “I don’t want to end.”
“You’re year is up,” Santa said. “Now a new one begins!”

EPILOGUE
“So you gave half of all that reward money to that little girl and her mother?” Dee asks in disbelief.
“Yep. Money well spent if you ask me.”
“Well, what are you going to do with the rest of it?”
She leans across our park bench and tickles my chin, teasingly.
“You know how I like bright and shiny things!”
I smile at her. I know she’s a creature of the night, but her beauty is especially stunning on sunny days like today.
Ha. Sunlight. Days.
I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see either again. Thank Great Ak Santa’s back at the Pole and time in full swing once again.
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about moving my office to H-Town.”
“Here?” She gestures to the mostly deserted park we’re seated in, but I get her meaning. “But you always complain about how hot it is. And you’ve got that pet polar bear cub now.”
“Ha! He’s hardly a cub anymore. That one grows like a Christmas tree. Anyway, with the reward money the city gave me for finding Pop, I can more than afford the cooling bill for both of us.”
“That reminds me, you never told me–when did you realize Father Time was behind all this?”
“He claimed Talbot confessed that I was in on it with him. I knew that was bogus. It caused all the other clues that had been circling around in my head to fall into place.
“I guess it all worked out in the end.”
“More or less. There is only one thing I couldn’t figure out, Dee.”
“What’s that?” she asks as she snuggles against me.
“Why did you do it?”
Dee sits back up and looks at me in shock.
“Pardon?”
“Why did you convince Father Time to kidnap Pop?”
“Jack,” Dee says, “if this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny.”
“The only thing I can figure is, somewhere down the line after we split up, your ambitions for success got twisted into some kind of monstrous lust for power.”
“Stop it, Jack. I said this isn’t funny!”
“Was it easy to seduce Father Time? To turn him away from his wife and unborn son?”
“I–I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I’m talking about how you always wanted to be a wrung above everyone else on the political ladder.
“I’m talking about how you were the only one I told I was going to the October Country–the only one who could’ve phoned Talbot to let him know I was coming.
“I’m talking about why Talbot, a known felon and Halloweenian, would dare get involved in such a scheme behind Samhain’s back.”
“You think I brought Talbot into this?”
“Oh, I admit for the longest I assumed Talbot’s part in this was Samhain’s doing. But that wasn’t right at all was it, Dee?
“You played Talbot just like you played Father Time.
“Just like you’ve played me from day one.
“Even at the end–your own kidnapping. That hurt ankle of yours. It was all an act. A set up so you could send me down the right tunnel for Father Time’s ambush.”
“This is ridiculous! I did no such thing! And I’d never heard of Talbot before in my life!”
“Oh no?” I say as I pull out the document Fred gave me. “This printout of his known associates reads different.
“Yeah, I had a little more time to look over the names toward the bottom of the list after everything settled down. Imagine my surprise to find yours there.”
Dee’s shock turns to a scowl that turns into a self-satisfied smirk.
“Yes, Jack. You’re right.
“As always.
“It was me. It was always me.
“I convinced Father Time to stop the New Year. Do you think that fool could’ve ever come up a plan to make a grab for eternal power on his own?
“I’ve had you all eating out of my hand from the beginning!”
“Why Dee? Why did you do this?”
“Aren’t you listening, Jack? Father Time was always a boob. He was nothing but a figurehead during his entire administration. I was calling the shots from day one.
“It was a trend I’d hoped to continue for all eternity. From behind the scenes, I was going to rule the holiday worlds beneath the shadow of everlasting night.”
Dee snarls at me.
“But you had to come along and mess things up!
“I told that old fool it was too risky to bring you into this, but he insisted it would look suspicious if we didn’t.
“I could’ve figured out an excuse, but he wouldn’t wait. He made me call you right away, the old windbag!”
“And I’m glad of it.”
I rise to my feet.
“Well come on, Dee. Let’s go.”
“What?”
“I’m taking you in. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”
Dee laughs, the sound high and shrill.
“You’re kidding, right? That printout is circumstantial at best. Talbot associated with a lot of folks who aren’t criminals.
“Jack, my dear, you have no proof and I’m certainly not going to confess.”
I sigh.
“You already have, Dee.”
Her face fills with alarm.
“What are you talking about?”
I open my cloak and shirt to reveal the wire I’m wearing.
“I told you before, Dee. You should be careful what you say. You never know who could be listening in.”
Dee’s jaw drops in stunned realization.
The feds I’ve had listening in exit their hiding places among the trees and walk toward us.
“I wouldn’t try to run, sweetheart,” I say, my voice grim.
I turn and begin to walk away in the opposite direction of the approaching feds.
“Jack–!”
“Goodbye, Delilah.”
I hear the feds reach Dee and begin reading her her rights, but I don’t bother looking back.
Father Time was right about one thing–it’s going to be a long, silent night alone for yours truly.
#

Hoo-ray! Hoo-rah! Time was back in full swing.
Christmas was saved and now the New Year did ring!
Jack Frost saved the day. Now all was well.
But there was still one last piece of story to tell.

Jack and Dee sat on a bench in the H-Town park,
Laughing and talking, happy as a lark.
“I love this,” Dee said. “We should do it another time.”
“But tell me one thing, Dee: Why did you commit the crime?”

“What do you mean, Jack? This isn’t funny!”
“Don’t play coy, Dee. Was it power or money?
“Why did you have Father Time kidnap my pop?
“Confess, Dee. The final shoe, please drop.”

“You’re right, as usual, Jack. You always are.
“Without my brains, Father Time wouldn’t have gotten far.
“He was a patsy. I ran things from behind the scenes.
“I’m wicked Halloweenian, Jack. It’s just in my genes.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jack said. “Let’s be on our way.
“Don’t make me laugh,” Dee said. “I’m not going away.
“You don’t have any evidence, facts, or proof!”
“I’ve recorded your confession, Dee. I’m a master sleuth.”

SECOND EPILOGUE
“Frost Detective Agency. Christy speaking—-just a moment.”
Christy puts the caller on hold just as I walk in the front door of my new office in H-Town. Why would I hire a witch as my administrative assistant after my dealings with Dee, you ask? What can I say? I have a soft spot for Halloweenians.
“Jack,” it’s the chief of the Holiday Guard. She says it’s urgent.”
“It always is.” I waltz by Christy’s desk, dropping her lunch off in my wake. “Tell her I’ll call her back in a minute.”
“But Jack–!”
“In a minute, Christy!”
I saunter back to the room I’ve set up for Fred—-larger than my own so as to accommodate his equipment, the little nutcracker–and knock on his door.
“Open, it is,” he calls from the other side. I open the door and find him at his computer, as usual.
“Heads up!” I say as I toss him his sandwich.
“Very much, thank you,” he says.
“What kind of hip-hop lingo is that?” I ask.
“Hip-hop, so last decade is. Talk in Yoda-speak, now do I.”
“Yoda-speak? Does this have anything to do with those movies you saw last week?”
“Greatest films ever, they were!”
I shake my head and leave Fred to his work.
I open the door to my office and a half ton of fur and muscle crashes into me.
“Down, boy!” I say as I scratch the polar bear’s head.
I hand him a large fish I got from the H-Town market. He swallows it in a single gulp.
“Greatest films ever or not, I still don’t know if I like the name Fred came up with for you, Chewie.”
Chewie snorts and begins sniffing around in my bag.
“No, no! You’ve had your lunch. That’s mine.”
I sit and throw my feet up on my desk. I’m about to take a bite out of the snow cone I bought for my lunch when my globe rings.
Reluctantly, I pick it up.
“Christy, I told you–”
“Frost?” It’s not Christy’s voice I hear, but that of the chief of police. “Frost, where have you been? No! Never mind that. Is your crystal ball on?”
“Why?”
“Just turn it on!”
“What’s the big–?”
“Turn it on, Frost!”
I sigh and pick up the remote and pop on the idiot ball I have mounted on my office wall. The picture comes on to reveal someone in a mask standing in front of the familiar tanks of the H-Town magicworks.
“–And I will release this toxin,” the masked man’s image says, “into the H-Town magic supply in exactly one hour if Detective Jack Frost does not present himself to me, alone and unarmed. This is not a hoax–”
“Frost,” the chief’s voice says over the phone. “Frost, are you there?”
“I’m on my way, chief!”
Without bothering to hang up the phone, I leap over my desk and skate out the door, knowing Holiday Town is depending on me.
“I’m on my way!”
#

And so our story ends on this last page.
We hope you enjoyed it and found it all the rage.
We hope we entertained you and on a journey took,
Your imagination while reading this book.

But now is the time for sleep, work, school, and play.
We’ll always be here for you to visit another day.
We hope you’ll come back, should Jack Frost skate again.
There are more crimes to solve, more cases to win.

And so we bid you farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye.
Keep your head in the clouds, and the twinkle in your eye!
Stay young at heart and you’ll always be all right.
Thank you for reading THE LONG SILENT NIGHT!

#
Shane Berryhill is the author of THE ADVENTURES OF CHANCE FORTUNE series (official selection of Accelerated Reader, the NY Public Library’s Books for the Teen Age, and the Texas Lone Star Reading List). You may order copies from your local independent bookstore, or purchase print and/or electronic versions from one of these fine outlets:MacMillian http://us.macmillan.com/series/TheAdventuresofChanceFortune
Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/Chance-Fortune-Outlaws-Adventures/dp/0765314681

Books-a-Million
http://www.booksamillion.com/search?id=5227463454614&type=author&query=Shane Berryhill
Barnes & Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/shane-berryhill

Shane loves to interact with friends and fans on
Facebook (www.facebook.com/shane.berryhill)
and Twitter (twitter.com/shaneberryhill).

Jack slipped into Macy’s Department store,
Grabbed a Santa outfit and headed out the back door.
Out in the alley, a little girl saw through his disguise,
Although Jack is hidden from human eyes.

He gave her piece of magic light on an ice chain,
Jack Frost’s loss was the little girl’s gain.
He wished her Merry Christmas and bid her goodnight,
Then went back to Holiday Town to make things right.

He burst into Father’s office, ready to rock.
The Holiday Guards he froze in an ice block!
“Look, Jack,” Santa said. “Father Time is on the news.”
“Move! To the press room! Not a moment to lose!”

The mayor was there, acting all haughty.
“Father Time,” Santa said, “You’ve been very naughty!”
With Dees as his hostage, Father Time ran.
“Quick, Jack!” Santa said. “You must stop that man!”

21
I reach the lobby just in time to see the time-evator doors closing on Father Time and Dee. The Holiday Town mayor hurls a spell with his staff just as the doors shut and I drop to the floor, allowing it to pass harmlessly over my head.
I run to the time-evator. I curse as I watch the lights over the time-evator door descend in number. Father Time is taking Dee to the basement level. At least he’s not hoping around in time. There’s that to be thankful for at least.
I press the call button on the other time-evator but nothing happens.
“Jammed! Nutcrackers!”
I look around the room, searching for a stairwell. I spot a door in the corner and scramble over to it and fling it open.
Bingo!
I don’t waste time with the stairs. I simply form an ice chute that spirals down over them. I hop on and slide to the bottom where I burst through the doors and into the basement.
“Dee!” I shout. She’s lying against the wall cradling her ankle.
I rush over to her and kneel at her side.
“Can you walk?”
“No. I twisted my ankle when he tossed me out of the time-evator. That’s why he left me behind.”
“When I get my hands on that lowlife–!”
“Don’t worry about me, Jack. I’ll be fine.”
She points to a tunnel on our right.
“He went that way!”
I linger for only a second, caressing her chin between my thumb and forefinger. Then I rise to my feet and take off after Father Time. I don’t bother going dim. The magic of Father Time’s staff is too powerful for my clothes to hide me from him.
I run through a maze of tunnels filled with steaming pipes and fire hoses. I duck around a corner and dive just in time to dodge a spell from the end of Father Time’s staff. I hear him curse but when I pop up to return fire, he’s gone.
I proceed down the tunnel with caution. He almost had me with that little ambush. I’ve got to turn this game of cat and mouse around somehow.
I exit the tunnel to enter a large, underground loading dock. It’s filled with boxes, crates, and forklifts–any of which could serve as his hiding place.
What can I do to draw him out? I ask myself.
And then I answer myself just as quickly.
His Ego!
I recall how he enjoyed my recounting the events of his plan to remain Father Time–how he wanted me to know–how he wanted to have his Machiavellian workings appreciated.
Yes, it’s a man with an ego who thinks himself worthy enough to wield absolute power for all eternity.
I slip behind a skid of shrink-wrapped boxes.
“Hey, FT!” I call from my hiding place. “I’ve got to hand it to you, when you screw up a plan, you do it big time!”
I fall silent, listening for a response. I hear nothing. I crouch and duck-walk forward to another hiding place behind a row of boxes.
“And right on inter-holiday news, too. I’ll bet every man, woman, and child in the holiday worlds are laughing their buns off at you right–!”
I hear zapping spells streak across the room. They strike the boxes serving as my hiding place and send them scattering.
I duck and roll behind a forklift, dodging Father Time’s fireworks. A few more blasts hit the forklift before all falls silent again.
“That was a close ice shave,” I whisper.
If nothing else, I’ve learned he’s within striking distance. If he can hit me, then I can hit him. I’ve got to press him. Get him fuming mad and careless.
“That the best you can do?” I shout. “I think you need your eyes checked. You missed me by a mile!”
I wait.
Nothing.
“But that’s to be expected from a Father Time whose year has passed. You must be ancient by now! A real old codger way past his prime who’s too senile to realize when he needs to give up the reins!”
“Shut up!” Father Time screams.
I pop up from behind the forklift, knowing he will be doing the same to try to get a shot at me.
I pray I’ll be faster.
I am.
But not fast enough.
My shot goes over his head as he ducks behind a stack of wooden pallets. It hits the wall behind him where it spreads out in a large patch of ice.
“Peek-a-boo, I see you,” I whisper.
I count on him keeping still for a moment and crawl forward to another hiding place behind a large barrel on his left flank.
“It must be rough to see all your hard work and planning slip through your fingers,” I say. “And to think, you were the very one to call in the guy who would bring it all crumbling down around you. Namely me!”
I get ready to wait out his fire and volley back, but no spells ever come. Inspiration strikes and I form an ice sculpture of myself. Just enough of its stocking-fedora is sticking out from behind the barrel to make the old man think it’s me still crouched behind it.
I crawl out from behind the barrels on my belly and inch my way to a position behind the dispatch desk.
“Yes, one of us was just a little bit smarter than the other,” I say throwing my voice at my ice-double. Like the whistling, it’s another little trick I’ve picked up along the centuries.
“Well, let’s be honest here. One of us is smart, and the other is just plain stupid–the one who has delusions of grandeur and multi-world domination, that is. Not that I’m naming any names.”
I crawl out from behind the desk to a stack of pallets a mere ten feet to the left of Father Time’s hiding place. Almost home. Just got to get him angry enough to pop out again.
“What would you do with eternity anyway?” I ask, again throwing my voice. “It’s not like you have the brain capacity to do anything–”
“Shut up!” he screams as he pops out from behind his hiding place.
I freeze him solid just as he lowers his staff to shoot. I sigh in relief and get up from my hiding place and walk over to him.
You can imagine my surprise as I round the stack of pallets and see another Father Time crouched there, his staff raised to fire. It does and this time, it’s me who freezes!
Father Time rises to his feet. “Yes, one of us here is certainly stupid,” he laughs. “And since it’s not me, let me clear things up for you, Frost.”
He taps the back of the frozen Father Time’s head with his fist.
“Look familiar?” he asks. “He should. He’s me from three minutes ago–the me you made angry enough to come out of hiding.
“That was me before the near miss with your ice blast brought me to my senses. I realized I had to bait you. And using my staff’s powers to bring this old boy into the present seemed like just the thing. Obviously, it was.”
Nutcrackers! My own trick used against me. What a snowflake I am!
“Oh, Jack my boy!” Father Time says, ecstatic.
He moves forward and seizes my shoulders.
“I’m almost sorry this has to end. This is the most fun I’ve had all year!”
He turns and paces as he talks. It must be something he does when he gets excited–or angry–like back in the H-Town jail.
“Now, I know what you’re thinking, my boy, but don’t you worry. As you pointed out, I am the master of this year and all those that came before mine. And contrary to what I said earlier, as you might have guessed by now, the time-evator works just fine!
“I’ll just do a little time-traveling to the day this all began and make sure to smooth out the rough patches in my scheme you mentioned during our little talk earlier.”
He stops and whirls to face me.
“But what about you? There’s no guarantee you won’t come back into the mix to foul things up again.”
“Hmmm?”
Father Time strokes his beard and starts pacing again.
“Yes. What to do about you?”
A moment later he turns to face me again.
“I’ve got it! Oh, yes, my boy. This should be quite interesting. I’ve wondered about it before, but never quite dared to do it.”
He rushes up to me and puts his face in mine.
“I’ve always been curious to see what would happen if I chronologically regressed a holiday person to the time before the humans–to the time before there was anyone around to give the forces and seasons of the world a name and a face.
“Would they explode, implode, or simply fade from existence? What’s say you and I find out, shall we?”
Father Time’s mirthless grin spreads wider than I’ve ever seen it.
“But I’m afraid, my boy, one way or another, it’s the long, silent night for you.”
He lowers his staff and points it at me.
That staff.
It’s the source of his powers. If only I could get it out of his hands.
The staff’s tip begins to glow and Father Time’s eyes grow wider and wider.
“Yes,” he says excitedly, “Yes! I can feel the years coming off you. Century after Century!”
Father Time’s nervous habit kicks in and he begins to rock back and forth on his feet.
If I’m going to get out of this and stop him, I’ve got to do it now, before I become less than a memory.
Unlike Old Man Winter, my powers are somewhat limited. He can freeze with a thought.
Me? I like to channel the cold through my body, especially my hands. It’s not absolutely necessary, but it makes it a heck of a lot easier for me. But it’s a hang-up that’s almost cooked my Christmas goose here.
To beat Father Time, I’ve got to think outside the icebox. If I have to use my body to channel the magic, fine.
But that doesn’t mean I have to use my hands.
“Closer, now!” Father Time says as he rocks excitedly. “Almost there!”
I send the cold snaking out from my feet across the ground. It forms a thin sheet of ice along the floor as it advances toward Father Time.
“Yes, yes!” Father Time is all but dancing now. “You’re there at the dawn of civilization. You’re little more than a flickering image now. Just the spark of an idea in some Cro-Magnon’s–!”
The ice reaches Father Time’s dancing feet and he slips. For a moment, he seems to hover in the air, his arms and legs flailing like those of a lumberjack trying to keep his balance on a rolling log.
Then gravity kicks in and he lands smack on his back, the wind rushing out of his lungs. His staff goes tumbling out of his hands across the room and immediately his spell over me is broken.
I don’t give him time to recover.
I pounce on top of him, seizing his robes in my hands.
“You rotten, no good, liar!” I say, shaking him. “You were supposed to be our leader and you double-crossed us!”
I feel my anger rise within me and it brings the cold with it–the wild, uncaring blizzard that always rages in my heart–the storm that only wants to freeze and destroy!
“You kidnapped my father! Almost killed us both!”
The blizzard of my fury takes shape around us. In seconds, we’re knee deep in snow, Father Time’s clothes and beard frosted over.
“I should do the same to you! You’d deserve it! I should freeze you until you–!”
“Son.”
It’s Pop.
It’s Santa Claus.
His voice is soft. I feel his hand come to rest on my shoulder.
“This is not the way, son. You’re better than this.”
I turn and shout in Pop’s face.
“He tried to kill us! He tried to stop the birth of his own son. He wished that his own son never be born!”
I turn back to rage at Father Time.
“Do you know how that feels? Do you?”
I feel Pop’s arms close around my shoulders.
“It’s okay, son,” he says. “It’s okay. Poppa’s here. Let him go, now. It’s okay.”
I shudder with anger and frustration.
And fear.
Fear of myself.
Then I abruptly release Father Time and bury my face in Pop’s beard and chest.
Pop hugs me and lets me cry there until the storm, both inside and out, passes.
Then Pop helps me to my feet.
“Take his staff, son,” Pop says. “Wait for me over there.”
I nod and obey, picking up Father Time’s staff and walking with it over to the loading dock entrance.
Pop lays his finger to the side of his nose and the color returns to Father Time’s face. Pop helps him off the floor.
“Your year is long up, my friend,” Santa Claus tells him. “You know that, don’t you?”
Father Time starts to protest, but somehow, when he looks into Pop’s eyes, all the anger drains out of him.
Father Time nods and begins to sob.
“I’m scared,” he says, his voice small and sheepish.
“It’s okay,” Pop says as he places a hand on Father Time’s shoulder. “New things are always scary at first.”
“I don’t want to end,” Father Time says.
“End? Why, there is no end. Only new beginnings, new states of being.”
Pop places an arm around Father Time’s shoulder and gestures to the air. A vision of a bright and shining future appears before them. It’s not fairy magic, but the magic of truth.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Just as the humans rise from and return to the fabric of the cosmos,” Pop says, “so shall you return to the fabric of time. You shall join with your forefathers and go on and on to make up all the new years that come after you, forever and ever. This is not something to be feared, but embraced.”
Pop turns to Father Time and holds him at arms’ length.
“Are you ready?”
The two men hug.
When they release one another, Father Time nods.
“Then go, my friend,” Pop says. “Join with the past so that you may become tomorrow unending.”
Father Time turns and walks into the vision of the future, his face alight with a brilliant smile. Then he and the vision of the years to come are gone.
#
Shane Berryhill is the author of THE ADVENTURES OF CHANCE FORTUNE series (official selection of Accelerated Reader, the NY Public Library’s Books for the Teen Age, and the Texas Lone Star Reading List). You may order copies from your local independent bookstore, or purchase print and/or electronic versions from one of these fine outlets:MacMillian http://us.macmillan.com/series/TheAdventuresofChanceFortune
Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/Chance-Fortune-Outlaws-Adventures/dp/0765314681

Books-a-Million
http://www.booksamillion.com/search?id=5227463454614&type=author&query=Shane Berryhill
Barnes & Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/shane-berryhill

Shane loves to interact with friends and fans on
Facebook (www.facebook.com/shane.berryhill)
and Twitter (twitter.com/shaneberryhill).

“Where is here, exactly?” Jack asked. “Melting is my ice.”
“The age of the dinosaurs. And they aren’t very nice!
“Let’s get you in the shade, before you melt away.
“Somehow we’ve got to get you back home to present day.”

At that moment, a roar through the forest rang.
Then out from between the trees, a big T-Rex sprang!
“Let’s get the holly out of here! Come on, Pop, run!
“If that T-Rex catches us, you and I are done!”

Jack and Santa bolted, but much to their dismay,
There was nowhere to run, no path for getaway.
“I’ll freeze a tar pit, Pop, and let the T-Rex crash in.”
“No way, son! You’re weak. The act would mean your end!”

Jack froze the pit anyway, having little choice.
When the T-Rex fell in, to cheers they gave voice!
Then using a little magic leftover from Pole-side,
Santa called the time-evator to give them both a ride.

20
Great Ak, am I frosted!
If Fred where here, I guess he’d use video game terminology and say I was powered up, or leveled up, or whatever. That little trip into the Ice Age was just the thing to put the ice back in my freezer.
But poor Pop. He went from one extreme to the other–tropical heat to freezing cold. I look at him in the elevator beside me. His skin is, for him, an unhealthy blue, and his teeth are chattering.
“We’ve got to get you some proper clothes.”
“I won’t argue with you there,” he says through chattering teeth.
“Hmmm,” I say, “Is there any way to get to a specific time and location? These buttons don’t seem to pinpoint any time period smaller than a century.”
“Yes, I’ve used this time-evator before,” Pop says. “Just press the century you want and merely concentrate on the exact time and place. The time-evator will take care of the rest.”
I press the button for the twentieth century and concentrate. The time-evator dings and the doors open to the bustling Thirty-fourth Street of mid-century Manhattan.
“Ho-ho-ho!” Santa laughs, his voice full of approval. “Macy’s department store, circa nineteen-forty-seven. Good call, son.”
“Wait here,” I say, “I don’t think anyone needs to see Santa Claus running around New York in his underwear.”
“Agreed.”
I go dim and exit the time-evator. I cross the street and enter Macy’s. It’s packed with humans shopping for Christmas presents. Holiday lights and decorations are everywhere and the music of Christmas carols floats softly through the air. I slip away from the masses to search the hidden areas behind the individual shops.
At last, I find what I’m looking for–a locker room with a Santa Claus costume hanging on every hook. I pick one out that looks like it would fit Pop and stuff it under my trench cloak. Then I head back toward the elevator.
I reach the street and see a small child in old, worn clothes staring at me, her mouth agape.
Sometimes kids–the ones with pure hearts and pure eyes–can see me even when I’m dim.
There’s a woman–I’m guessing the child’s mother–rummaging in a trash can behind her. It melts even my cold heart. I walk over to the child, her eyes growing wider with every step I take. I put my finger to my lips, gesturing for her to be quite.
I squat down in front of her and gesture for her to wait a moment. I take out the borealis from my cloak and the little girl gasps as it illuminates her face. I place it in her hands and then form a sparkling ice chain that I attach to it. The magic of the borealis should be enough to keep it intact permanently.
“From Santa,” I whisper, giving her a wink. She places the chain over her head and slips it around her neck. She cradles the borealis in her hands and then looks up at me, her tiny face full of love and gratitude. Without warning, she throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me in a tight hug. After a moment, I hug her back. I use my magic over cold to banish it from this child. Hugging me will be the last time she ever knows Winter’s harsh, bitter touch.
We separate and I motion for her to put the borealis down the front of her shirt.
“Secret and safe.” I whisper.
She gives an exaggerated nod of understanding.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispers.
“Merry Christmas,” I say as I rise.
I turn and walk back to the time-evator without giving the child another glance.
In the end, Frost is what Frost is, after all.
Pop is ecstatic to see the clothes I brought him and immediately starts putting them on.
“Good job, Son. These are just about like those your mother sows for…Jack? Are you crying son?”
“Something was in my eye,” I say as I wipe away a frozen tear. “Let’s go.”
Pop presses the button for present day and we rocket up toward Father Time’s office. I make myself forget about the little girl and concentrate on what I plan to do when I get my hands on ol’ FT!
“Easy, son,” Pop says. “Save it, now.”
I glance around and see that there’s frost forming on the walls.
“He’s going down, Pop. For what he’s done, he’s going down!”
The door opens to Father Time’s office and every clock in the room goes off in alarm. Three feds I’ve never seen before are there waiting on us. They raise their wands and fire.
But I’m ready for them.
I throw up a shield of protective ice and the spells go bouncing around the room. One even strikes its caster and he falls to the ground, stunned.
A quick wave of my hand and a blizzard-cold wind gallops across the room, freezing the other two feds where they stand.
I skate over the ice lain across the floor in the wake of my wind and grab the stunned fed by his sash, pulling his face up to mine.
“Where’s Father Time?” I demand.
He struggles unsuccessfully to speak. At last, he manages to raise an arm and point to the large crystal ball mounted on the wall among the clocks. Father Time is on it giving a press conference, Jasmine, Romeo, and Dee at his side.
“…Unfortunately,” Father Time’s image says from the TV, “Talbot’s accomplice, Jack Frost, met his end during an escape attempt.”
“The holly I did!” I shout. “Come on, Pop. We’ve got to get down there!”
We jog to the time-evator and go inside. I press the button for present day and concentrate on the lobby. The press room is also on the ground floor. We reach the lobby and then bolt into the press room just as Father Time announces his regret that it doesn’t appear there’s any chance of finding Santa Claus.
“I beg to differ!” Santa bellows.
Every head in the room turns and voices his name in surprise at seeing him. Cameras flash and he’s bombarded with a hundred questions. He ignores them all and shouts over the crowd.
“Father Time, you’ve been very naughty!”
“This man is an impostor!” Father Time shouts. “He’s with a known felon! Seize them!”
Jasmine and Romeo spring into the air. The crowd shrieks as they dive-bomb us. A wave of my hand sends them falling to the ground like the heavy blocks of ice that they now are.
Pop and I press our way forward through the crowd.
“It’s Father Time who is the criminal here!” I shout. “It was he who actually kidnapped Santa! Father Time said Santa was lost, but he was holding my pop hostage the whole time! Everything else is lies, just like him saying I was dead!”
“Is this true?” the reporters Father Time ask in a hundred different variations. “How do you explain this?”
Pop and I press onward to the stage.
“He didn’t want to give up being Father Time. And the only way he could stay in office was to make sure Baby New Year never arrived. That’s why he needed to keep Santa from delivering presents. He wanted time to stand still. He wanted it to be Christmas Eve forever!”
The reporters bombard Father Time with questions until he loses it.
“Silence!” he screams as he waves his staff in a broad arc.
I erect a protective ice shield around Pop and myself just in time to prevent the time-dampening spell from washing over us. The rest of the crowd is not so lucky. The go as still as the victims in Old Man Winter’s palace, frozen in time.
Father Time grabs Dee by the neck and pulls her to him.
“Don’t follow,” he shouts, “or your little friend gets it!”
He ducks out of the room, dragging Dee along with him.
“Pop,” I say, “he’s got Dee!”
“I think I can lift this spell off these good folks, son. You go on. I’ll catch up.”
I nod and run out of the room after Father Time.

“I’m afraid,” Father Time said, “there’s been a mistake.
“The interrogation spell was more than he could take.
“Why don’t you fess up, Jack? Why don’t you come clean?
“We know you’re the perp, working from behind the scenes.”

In that moment, Jack Frost’s cold heart fell.
He knew what his subconscious had been trying to tell.
The answer had always been there, circling in his mind.
“You kidnapped Santa Claus! It was you, Father Time!”

Father Time turned to his guards and said, “Shut the door.
“Such a bright boy, Jack. Please, tell me more.
“Talbot, Old Man Winter, they were all a smokescreen.
“From the beginning, it was you who was the fiend!”

“You kidnapped Santa Claus to stop time and halt the hour,
“It was the one way for you to always stay in power.”
“Brilliant!” the mayor said. “Too bad we have to stop.
“It’s high time I showed you where I’m keeping your pop.”

19
“Jack.”
I know I’m dreaming again when I hear Pop’s voice.
“Jack, wake up, son.”
It’s so hot in the dream. Like a sauna. It’s agonizing.
“Jack, it’s me, your father. Wake up, son!”
I feel my body being shaken. My eyes flutter open and the large, dark silhouette of a man stands over me, the blazing sun forming a corona around him.
“Pop?” I ask. My voice sounds terrible–as brittle as a frozen twig.
“Quick, son. Let’s get you into the shade.”
Pop lifts me and carries me under the canopy of a nearby tree. Santa wipes the water of my melting scalp from my eyes and I see that he has stripped down to only his boots and underclothes.
He’s filthy. His silvery hair and beard are full and unkempt. He’s also quite a few pounds lighter than when I last saw him.
“You’ve lost weight,” I say, my voice a whisper.
“And you will, too, unless we get you out of here soon.” He hugs me to his chest. “Oh, son! It’s so good to see you.”
“Where are we?” I ask. “How can the sun be out when it’s still Christmas Eve?”
“It’s still Christmas Eve in the time you came from. If I had to guess, I’d say we’re currently sometime around the end of the Cretaceous Period. It’s where Father Time and his cronies dumped me, and now you, for safe keeping.”
I think about the elevator in City Hall, the one that runs from the big bang up to present day, and realize exactly how Pop and I got here.
“Oh, son, you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve had to endure!”
“You and me both–”
Pop gestures for me to fall silent. I do so and try to listen. But it’s too hard. Too hard to do anything but lie here.
Great Ak, it’s hot!
Pop perks up beside me.
“Pop, what is–?”
Again, I fall silent at his urging. Then I feel it. The ground shaking beneath our feet every few seconds. The tremors are small, but growing steadily. They remind me of the Cottontail’s thumping, only magnified a hundred fold.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” Pop says.
He jerks me to my feet and throws my arm over his shoulder. He trots deeper into the rain forest surrounding us, more or less dragging me along. We pass around trees, deadfall, and bubbling pits of what will one day millennia hence be petroleum.
“What, Pop? What’s the–?”
I see the gigantic head of a tyrannosaurus rex drop below the forest canopy to sniff the ground. Pop dives behind a fallen tree, pulling me along with him.
“Okay, son,” he whispers. “He only smells me. You’re just water as far as he’s concerned. I’ll run to the left and draw him away from you.”
“No way, Pop,” I whisper.
“It’s not open to discussion, Son.”
“If you take off, I’m going to yell at the top of my lungs to make sure he has a thirst quencher in me before he gets you as the main course.”
“You wouldn’t!”
I struggle to do it, but I grin back at him. It’s answer enough.
Pop scowls, looking as mean as a jolly fat Santa Claus can, which isn’t very much.
“It’s only a matter of time before the dinosaur finds us. What are we going to do?”
“We’ll beat him to the punch. Look, I’ve got an idea. See if you can get us back to one of those tar pits we passed.”
He nods and lifts me to my feet. We both glance back at the T-Rex. It’s still sniffing the ground, but closer now.
Too close.
We stumble along, circling back in the direction we came, the T-Rex doing likewise. At last, we reach a clearing overflowing with bubbling pits of goo.
“There,” I say, nodding to a large pit on our right. “That one looks big enough. Take us over–”
My words are drowned out in the tooth-rattling roar of the T-Rex. We look back and see the dinosaur crashing through the forest toward us, its enormous, razor-sharp jaws spread wide.
“He’s spotted us,” I say. “Quick, get us to the other side!”
Pop moves as fast as I’ve ever seen. In seconds flat, we reach the opposite side of the pit.
“Lower me down,” I plead. “Hurry!”
I stretch my hand out above the tar pit, reaching out to the tiny droplets of moisture hanging in the air. Pop realizes what I’m doing and protests.
“No, son! You’re too weak! It’ll kill you!”
I ignore him and concentrate, praying I can do this before the T-Rex gets close enough to be spooked by it. A thin sheet of ice forms beneath my hand and begins to snake out over the pit.
“Come on!” I say.
The T-Rex grows larger and larger within my field of vision.
“You can do this! Come on!”
The dinosaur’s roar thunders in my ears.
The ice finishes covering the entire pit just as the T-Rex bursts through into the clearing. I collapse, rolling over onto my back so that I see an up-side-down version of the beast as it gallops toward us. It dodges around several pits and I begin to worry my plan won’t work.
“Come on, you big, stupid thing, come on!”
I shouldn’t have worried. Instead of noticing the ice cover and slowing down, the T-Rex charges straight for us. The ice cracks with its first step and the dinosaur tumbles face-first into the bubbling ooze.
“Yeah!” I shout.
I slam my fist on the ground in triumph as the T-Rex sinks below the surface. I turn, exuberant, to face Pop. My smile drops when I see the tears rolling down his rosy cheeks.
“He was going to eat us, Pop.” I say.
“I know,” he says wiping his face. “I know. But he was just an animal, doing what he was born to do. He didn’t know any better.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re–” agony shoots through my body.
I look down and see I’m only an ice shaving of my normal frosty self. That last little stunt with the ice cover did me in.
I’m melting.
Fast!
Pop takes me in his arms. “If only I had a little bit of the Pole here–a little bit of home grown magic. I could get us out of here lickity-split.”
I try to speak, but my mouth is only able to form a single world. “Pocket.”
Pop nods. He releases me and reaches into my cloak pocket. A smile lights up his bearded face along with the bit of aurora borealis as he pulls it out.
“If it’s one thing I know,” Pop says as he lays a finger to the side of his nose with his free hand, “It’s how to make an exit!”
I hear the ding of an elevator and then a rectangular hole opens in space before us. On the other side is the box-shaped interior of the City Hall time-evator.
He drags me inside.
“What floor?” He asks.
A smug grin covers my face.
“There,” I say, pointing to one of the buttons. “the last Ice Age.”
#
Shane Berryhill is the author of THE ADVENTURES OF CHANCE FORTUNE series (official selection of Accelerated Reader, the NY Public Library’s Books for the Teen Age, and the Texas Lone Star Reading List). You may order copies from your local independent bookstore, or purchase print and/or electronic versions from one of these fine outlets:MacMillian http://us.macmillan.com/series/TheAdventuresofChanceFortune
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“Now listen, Talbot,” Jack said, “I’m not playing.
“Take me to my pop or your prayers you’ll be saying!”
“Ha-ha,” Talbot laughed, “You’re such a loon.
“I’ve been played for a sap, and you for a buffoon!”

“When we escape,” Jack said, “you’ll sing a new song.
“I’ve had things under control all along.”
“I don’t see,” Talbot said, “how we can get out.
“No matter how loud and how much you scream and shout.”

“I’ve got my ways,” Jack said with a wink.
“I come through in a clutch, perform best on the brink.”
“If you get us topside,” Talbot said, “I’ll go quietly.
“They’ve been keeping me here daily and nightly.”

The two of them escaped with the help of a mole.
They tunneled to the surface. Such was their goal.
But before Jack could take Talbot on to jail,
They were both put to sleep by the zap of a spell!

18
I awake from another nightmare, the leftover echo of Pop’s pleading cries in my ears.
I’m in jail.
Again.
Talbot beside me.
Again.
“Talbot,” I say as I sit up on the cell’s lone piece of furniture, a bench.
He ignores me and just rocks back and forth where he sits, a glazed look in his eyes.
“Talbot!” I demand.
Finally, he looks at me.
“I can count to ten!” he says with unbound glee. “One. Two. Apple. Ten!”
“Uh,” I say, “I think you skipped a few there, pal.”
“There was an unfortunate mishap during Mr. Talbot’s interrogation.”
I turn and see Father Time standing in front of our cell, Romeo and Jasmine, healthy and whole, at his side.
“It appears the Guardsman conducting the questioning used an improper spell. Rest assured he will be reprimanded. However, not to worry. Mr. Talbot should be right as rain in a millennia or two.”
Father Time turns his attention from Talbot to me.
“We’re hoping you’ll come clean, son. And spare us all the potential for any further accidents.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, bewildered.
“Please, son. Don’t play coy. Just tell us where your father is so we can go get him and get things back to normal.”
I jump to my feet.
“You think I kidnapped Santa Claus?”
“The need for subterfuge has passed, Jack,” Father Time says. “Before things went awry in Talbot’s interrogation, he confessed you and he were in on this together from the beginning.
“He told us how you played the loving son all these years merely so you could one day usurp Santa’s place of power. When you saw that day wasn’t going to come fast enough, you took matters into your own hands.
“I guess the cube doesn’t fall far from the iceberg.”
“Liar!”
I leap at him, reaching between the cell bars to grab his robes. A few quick stunner zaps from Jasmine and Romeo knock me to the floor.
I lie there, knowing.
I curse myself for being so stupid and not putting it all together sooner.
Father Time turns to his officers. “Shut the door.”
Romeo complies and closes the door to the room, shutting the five of us off from any eyes and ears that might be pass outside in the hallway.
I rise into a sitting position, still trying to fight off the pain from the stunners.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. “What have you done with Santa?”
Father Time squats, using his staff as a prop, so that he faces me at eye level.
“If you’re so smart, Jack,” he whispers as he smiles. “You tell me.”
I look at him and shake my head.
“Your wife. Your son. How could you do this to your own son?”
“Quit babbling, boy.” Father Time says. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out!
“Please, entertain us. Show us those supposedly great powers of deductive reasoning you’re so famous for.”
I sigh, wishing I had some eggnog to drink or a peppermint stick to gnaw on.
“Who benefits?” I say. “Who benefits from all this? That’s the question you always have to ask.”
I look Father Time dead in the eye.
“The answer is, you.”
“You wanted people to believe this was all about Santa, didn’t you? You wanted us to believe that the November folk, in their unbound jealousy, kidnapped Santa Claus to stop Christmas and put Thanksgiving at the top of the holiday list.
“But that’s only the smallest part of it, isn’t it? Santa’s kidnapping is just a convenient smokescreen that both accomplishes and hides your real objective.”
“I’m impressed,” Father Time says, smiling mischievously. “Please, do go on.”
“You enlist Old Man Winter’s help to cover the kidnapping–ask him to brew up a blizzard that will cover the real perps’ tracks–Talbot for one.
“But I’m guessing these two thugs here at your side also, considering you’re letting them listen in on all this.”
I point at Talbot. “Take a look guys. This is what happens to those who serve your boss!”
Jasmine and Romeo take a step toward the cell but Father Time calls them off. He’s enjoying this little explain all. He wants someone to appreciate how clever he is.
What a Grinch!
“I guess it was the promise of a cut of H-Town business that got the Old Man to agree to help you. Income from the capitol city would more than make up for any loses he might suffer from Santa’s absence at the Pole.”
Father Time nods. “Very perceptive of you.”
“It would have been easy enough for your boys to get their hands on turkey feathers to toss around the crime scene for the frame up. Of course, everyone would immediately assume it was Frankie the Gobbler. He’s been the most vocal of the Thanksgiving bosses in his contempt of Christmas.”
“Really, Jack,” Father Time nods, “You do astound me! So much so, one has to ask why would I want to call in such a bright boy as your self on the case?”
“Are you kidding me?” I ask. “As you said way back, my rep’s well known. And with my own father being the one kidnapped, it would’ve looked odd–suspicious even–if you hadn’t asked for my help.”
Father Time grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Of course, of course. Nothing slips by you.”
“Talbot’s assassination attempt on you was staged, as well. Like with bringing me in on the case, it was all an elaborate ploy to further cast suspicion away from you and onto the Gobbler and his crew. Romeo’s attempt at capturing Talbot just made the whole thing all the more believable.”
Father Time’s grin fades into a scowl.
“But then, enter the bright and shining knight of ice crystal.”
“Yeah, exactly.” I say. “What you didn’t count on was my going after Talbot, much less coming back with evidence. He was supposed to make a clean get away.”
“Touché,” Father Time says, his tone mocking.
“I guess you’ve got City Hall and the area around it bugged. That’s how you overheard me say I was going to the October Country.
“You must have immediately gotten word to Talbot so that he and his pack could lie in wait for me.
“You probably reached him through Samhain, the being who hooked you up with Talbot in the first place.
“Like Old Man Winter, I guess you also lured the Halloween crime boss into this caper with the promise of a piece of the H-Town underworld.”
“That’s certainly one way to skin a cat,” Father Time says, “Or, in this case, melt an ice man.”
“You’re plan stalled again when the Count gave me Talbot’s name. You didn’t factor in one of Samhain’s lieutenants having ambitions beyond those his master allows him, much less making a move on them.”
“So that’s how you found out who Larry was!” Father Time exclaims.
“Yep. But I should’ve figured out it was you behind all this before then, back in the October County, when Talbot and his boys jumped me.”
Father Time leans in, genuinely interested.
“How so?”
“Let me back up a second.
“First of all, realizing that the crime scene was staged, that was no-brainer. That Old Man Winter and Samhain had a hand in this, well, that was obvious too. But I couldn’t wrap my head around why.
“I should’ve realized it was for the only reason that either of them do anything–profit. Then I should’ve asked myself who in the Holiday worlds could’ve supplied them with enough income to risk their regular cash cows. That should’ve immediately led me to finger you, the man with all the wealth of H-Town under his thumb.”
“Good points all,” Father Time says. “But I don’t understand. What do any of them have to do with Talbot’s October Country ambush being your tip off?”
“Like I said, Talbot was there waiting on me.
“He knew.
“Someone–someone who had to be at City Hall–tipped him off. With all other roads already leading to you, that should’ve been the star on the Christmas tree.”
“All this impressive deduction,” Father Time says, “But you still haven’t answered the million dollar question, boy: Why?
“Why did I do all this? Why did I kidnap Santa Claus?”
I slowly rise to my feet. Father Time rises to his own so that we’re once again face to face.
“Because, you Grinch, the same reason your kind do anything. To gain power. And to keep it.
“Your one year of glory–of being mayor of the holiday worlds–it just wasn’t enough for you. You couldn’t bear the thought of Baby New Year’s arrival.
“Unlike your dignified forefathers, the years before you, you didn’t want to give up the throne and pass on. You wanted to be Father Time for all eternity!”
“And what’s so wrong with that?” Father Time screams.
He loses his cool, shoving his underlings out of his way so he can pace angrily around the room. Finally he comes back to face me.
“What’s so wrong with wanting to live a little longer? To enjoy a little more of life?”
“Nothing,” I say, “for anyone else but you. You have power over time–of your year and all those that came before you. That is near absolute power. It is a blessing. But for any one being to wield it longer than your kind do is wrong.”
For all it’s worth, I give Father Time the Eye.
“You waited until Santa Claus had cast the spell of eternal night. Then you kidnapped him to make sure he could never deliver Christmas presents to the boys and girls of the human world and undo the spell.
“You did this so that no more days would pass, ensuring your position as Father Time forever, with no thought of the cost to your family or the known worlds.
“In this act of ultimate selfishness, you’ve corrupted the natural course of things and brought shame to all the Father Times who came before you!”
“Silence!” Father Time screams.
He lowers his staff and, well, I freeze–freeze in time that is. Like an ice sculpture.
After a moment, Father Time seems to gather himself. His grin and happy demeanor return.
“I know you can hear me, Frost. And I say to you, Bravo!”
He does a prim golf clap on my behalf.
“For the most part, your logic has brought you to the heart of things.
“Yes, I had Santa Claus kidnapped. Yes, It was to ensure he could never deliver Christmas presents to the boys and girls of the human world and undo the spell of eternal night.
“And, lastly, yes, it was all to prevent the birth of my son, Baby New Year, and keep myself in power for all eternity.
“There! You have my confession in full–for all the good it will do you.
“You really should have considered my offer to take the heat.”
“It wouldn’t have brought Pop back. Something would’ve conveniently happened to me in lock up before I made any contrived statement about his whereabouts.”
“Astute as always.” Father Time turns to Jasmine. “Prepare the mind-wipe spell.”
Jasmine and Romeo turn to one another. Twin streams of ominous, silvery mist being to snake out of their wands and weave in the air.
My frosty heart hammers in my chest. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to break free of Father Time’s spell. I’ve got to find Pop and stop this madman!
“Oh!” Father Time says as he uses his free hand to steady his staff. “Why Jack, you are the strong one, aren’t you, my boy. I feel you struggling against my time-dampening spell. Do you have something you’d like to say before your IQ drops to that of a brick?
Suddenly, I feel his spell’s hold on my mouth disappear. Unfortunately, it remains very much intact over the rest of my body.
“What have you done with my father?” I demand.
“Yes,” Father Time says as he strokes his beard in consideration.
He turns to Jasmine and Romeo.
“Belay the spell. I’ve got a much better idea for Mr. Frost, here.”
Father Time returns his attention to me.
“Good news, Jack, old boy! I’ve decided to let you see your father.” Father Time’s mirthless grin spreads wide across his face. “And I promise you, it will be the last thing you ever see.”
Father Time gestures to Romeo. “Zap him with a sleeper.”
“No wait–!” I yell. But it’s too late. Romeo raises his wand and the all-too-familiar blackness covers my field of vision.