The first hint of day was revealed by a thin sliver of light that kissed the horizon. Eli Cray lay in his bed, wishing that this day would somehow be different, than the dull stream that had preceded it. Just moments before, he had been dreaming of a garden - his prize winning garden - with corn stalks reaching the clouds and pumpkins the size of small cars.
"I will win this year's event," he thought, "you just try and top this Broady Wilson!"
But the sound of a passing snow plow tore him from his slumber and as he realized it was only a dream, he fought to hold the image of the giant stalks and the large pumpkins a moment longer before they faded away.
"Great, just a darn dream," he muttered.
"Eli, breakfast," rang out from the stairs below.
"How's your ice garden Eli," came next followed by a giggle and the sound of feet running down the stairs."
"At least I'm growing something," screamed Eli at the fading footsteps.
"I'm not going to ask you again," yelled Eli's mother from below, "just because school is closed today doesn't mean you get a free day!"
Eli pulled himself out of bed and the sting of the cold floor made his body quiver. He flipped on the light and checked his breath with a steady blow towards the ceiling, watching as a familiar white puff danced away.
As he opened the curtains he saw the misty panes of glass aglow with morning red, giving him the impression of a multi-faceted insect's eye. He wiped at a pane, clearing a circle of icy mist and inspected the landscape. A lone tree stood in the middle of the yard like a frozen sentry guarding a giant white ocean.
"More snow, just what we needed," he muttered.
His eyes traced the trunk of the tree downwards, to a small garden enclosure that stood by its base. The roof was missing and a side wall was leaning outward.
"Eli...don't make me come up there," rang out from below.
"I knew it wouldn't work...why did I listen?" thought Eli as he flung the curtains closed and looked around for his sweatshirt.
"I'm coming," screamed Eli towards his bedroom door, as if answering a thought he sensed would soon be articulated.
As he made his way down the stairs to the kitchen, he exhaled in short puffs and watched as the cold air condensed his breath, imagining himself a steam train descending into a mountain town.
"Well look who decided to show up," said his mother without any further greeting.
"Sorry, can we use the heat for a while?" mumbled Eli as if pleading with the cold air.
"Heat," retorted his mother, "is a luxury you'll have to do without!"
She then looked towards Eli's father as the last word left her mouth, who was sitting somewhere behind a newspaper and her eyes began to say something, but she caught herself before the words could pass her lips.
"Just think how cold your garden must feel," quipped Eli's little sister Sam, whose eyes followed his every move. Eli considered his seeds frozen in the soil outside.
"Shut up about my garden and stop staring," snapped Eli.
"Enough...sit Eli," shouted his mother who discreetly wiped a tear from her eye that no one had noticed. The creased face of his father suddenly emerged from behind the floating newspaper at the table.
"We'll fix it Eli, this weather has got to break."
Eli hurried down breakfast and put on his heavy jacket and snow boots.
"I need to clear the snow off my garden," he announced and quickly ran out.
"Well stay on our property E...," was cut off by the slamming of the door. Eli's mother watched as Eli jumped from the porch and kicked at the snow.
"He'll never win, he never does," said Eli's sister.
His father put down his paper and looked tenderly at Sam.
"Quiet...he's trying at least."
He then looked out the window at Eli, who was trying to push up the side of the enclosure. He recalled his own school project; a small popsicle-stick mission that slanted to one side as if melting.
"I'm going to help Eli," Eli's father said, which hardly stirred any response other than a nod from Eli's mother and a frown from Sam.
As Eli's father opened the door, the crisp air bit at his ears and he reconsidered his outfit.
"Blasted news, they never get it right!" he mumbled.
Before he shut the door, he looked out at his son who appeared small against the monotonous landscape, as a lone ship might lose its scale when seen on a flat and blank ocean.
"I'll be out soon...don't disturb the seeds," he yelled, as Eli pushed at the enclosure. He thought of his mission and smiled at the parallel that suddenly occurred to him.
Eli removed his mittens and raked between the flattened rows of his garden with his fingers. The cold made them burn and every few moments he rubbed his hands together and slapped the icy dirt off. He looked towards the lone tree and saw his leather work gloves underneath, frozen in a permanent wave. He laughed and waved back. Eli reached down and pulled a seed from the soil, remembering exactly where he had planted the biggest one.
"Hey Eli, you coming over today?" yelled a small voice from behind him.
"Maybe, but I've got to finish some things first," answered Eli without turning to look at his neighbor, more interested in the raised voices suddenly coming from his own house.
The door suddenly swung open and Eli looked for his father, but Sam was ushered onto the porch instead and he knew what that meant, which confirmation soon came by muffled yelling coming from his house. His sister was in a red-down jumpsuit that reminded him of an elf's uniform and stood motionless as if waiting for a signal from Eli.
As if drawing a breath with his eyes, Eli simotaneously took in his garden, his house, the stagnant sky and the white that held everything in place, and the tears that were forming in Sam's eyes. He then turned and began to run. The impulse carried him and he didn't know why, but just that he had to go. He ran out towards the pale landscape, making his way down a hill into a ravine and continuing up the other side. He stopped to look at his property and was surprised at how far he got, so fast. He could faintly see the red dot that marked his sister on the porch, and he turned and continued to run.
Eli stopped and pulled the seed from his pocket and looked at it with wistful eyes and thought, "if only you would grow, I know I would win." He held the seed tight and continued to run, imagining himself on a stage in front of countless people, receiving a trophy for his record-breaking corn, which made him smile.
The image was suddenly lost to the sound of cracking ice and the feeling of falling. Eli was chest hight in icy water and confused, but suddenly realized where he was in his landscape. The sudden image of the swimming hole he would enjoy during the warm days of Summer flashed before him.
As he tried to grip the side of the icey ring and pull himself up, the weight of his clothes drew him back into the circle. Freezing, Eli cried out, but didn't recognize the weakened voice he heard as his own. His limbs quickly grew numb and he held himself motionless by the side of the hole and didn't feel cold anymore. He fought to keep his head above the water, but lost to the pull and slowly sank below the surface.
The sun's rays breaking through the opening in the ice made the water glitter like a kaleidoscope, and in spirals and falling images Eli was carried away.
His father followed his tracks through the snow and when he got to the ice and saw the hole, screamed for Eli. He fell to the snow and gripped at it, perceiving what had happened. As he turned to get help, he noticed something resting on the edge of the ice and picked it up, and instantly knew where it came from.
When the days finally warmed and any hint of the bitter season had passed, Eli's father raked the soil of his son's garden and pulled from his pocket the seed that Eli had taken from his garden.
It grew to over ten-feet high and nearly reached the clouds.
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