She
hated darkness. The month of December was laden with it, along with the death.
May
shuddered again. But she wouldn’t allow any obstacle, even a snowball, in her
path.
December
was sitting on his ice-covered throne, holding his scepter of snowstorms and
looking like the supreme emperor of the Gregorian calendar, which he was as a
default due to age. Before May had even opened her mouth to speak, December shifted
in his seat and asked,
“May?
What is it that you want from me? Not a delayed winter schedule, I hope?”
May
sighed very deeply. The effort to keep from talking disrespectfully was as
difficult as holding back the tide of a stream. But she was capable of working
this wonder, in a good mood.
May meekly bowed to December and
said, “December, I have come on a very urgent errand on behalf of a child who
belongs to the race of men and women on earth.”
December merely glared at her and
said, “It’s about the bed-ridden child, isn’t it?”
May
felt her eyes widen to the size of the ice crystals which hung from the
ceiling. December already knew? December looked impassive but he trained his
eye on May. May sighed. She knew that this would be difficult. But Julia was more
priceless than natural gems or cut crystals.
May looked into his stern face and
said, “December, she is very ill. Her illness could be fatal, if you…” December
interrupted her with a harsh frown; frost whirled around him.
He said, “May, if you expect me to
change my schedule, you have as much sense as a new-born chicken. Human beings
expect their windows to be plastered in snowflakes.”
He sat back down on his throne and
said, “I can’t be expected to change my plans now.”
May felt her hands ball into fists as
she said, “But for the sake of a human child…”
December
interrupted her again with a wave of an ice-studded glove as he said,
“I cannot alter my schedule even for
the sake of a bed-ridden child.”
May
advanced towards December’s throne with a fierce expression. She looked down at
him and
said,
“For a, ‘gentle-month who lives all by yourself in the land of nowhere…”
December got up from his throne; he looked insulted. But May continued. Her
temper was provoked.
She threw up her head and said,
“You’re certainly an example of mercy.”
December
pretended to give her mock applause with his icy fingers as he said,
“Bravo, your sarcasm has certainly
convinced me, so far.” May looked away painfully.
What
had she done? Now, Julia would never run with her in the cedar grove again.
Unless….
May
sighed deeply, for the second time during that interview, and said,
“December, I apologize.” December
looked at her disbelievingly. May swallowed a whole regiment of sarcastic
words, which burned in her throat, as she watched the satisfied expression
which settled itself into the hard edges of her rival’s face, a face as sharp
as its wit.
“Well,
May,” he said with condescension, as though he were addressing a blighted leaf,
“You are young and impetuous. I can
forgive you for that, at least. I will reconsider…”
“Thank you, December!” May said,
glad of an interruption, “Your kindness will be
remembered.
It will never melt in my memory, even if your snow does.” May smiled.
She
had added that particular jab on purpose. The frown returned to December’s face
as he said,
“I will reconsider if you do a
special favor for me.” He gazed at her calmly, as though he expected her
to know what he meant. May hadn’t the foggiest idea. She studied the patterns
of snowflakes on the floor for a full five seconds until she realized…
“Oh, December,” she said hurriedly,
“I know that the snow flurries are unruly but…”
December
laughed. Icicles in the room reverberated his laugh. May didn’t find this
comforting.
Eventually, he controlled himself and
said, “It’s not about my children. I could grant your request if you are
willing to delay the habits of three woodland neighbors.”
May
exhaled. She was glad the December didn’t need a governess for his rude sets of
children.
Hi everyone! Let me know what you think of this chapter! Also, what do you think will happen next? Love you guys! 
