The Holly and the Ivan - Billie Arlen
1953 Words
Author’s note: Inspired loosely by my love for Toy Story and Pixar's shorts, The Holly and the Ivan is a cozy, heart-warming romance for the Holiday season.
The Holly and the Ivan - Billie Arlen
Gather ‘round, merry people and hopeless romantics! Gather ‘round and listen to the whimsical tale of two Christmas figurines falling in love on a magical night.
‘Twas many nights before Christmas…
December 1st.
I remember when I first saw her last year. Mrs. Nicholls had brought her in the closet, carefully wrapped in the old box of a special edition Christmas ball. I guess it was a good thing they had kept it, even if they didn’t have the ball anymore.
Her pale teal winter clothes were so shiny, I would’ve bet anything the colour was the perfect shade to fit her eyes – she had been too far away for me to see the actual colour of her irises, so I had to assume. Light brown hair styled flawlessly contrasted beautifully with her cream-coloured skin.
She had a winter hat and a scarf to keep the cold at bay, but that did not seem to be enough, judging by the reddish tint painted on her cheeks. Her fingerless gloves made her look carefree, and I was dying to learn everything about her.
We could all speak, think, and see straight in front of us when December came along. But the best part, the real magic, happened on Christmas Eve. The house was always empty and from sunset until midnight, we could move.
Woof!
“I know Buster, I am just as excited. Though, if I am being honest, I am nervous. I won’t have much time to court her. I need Mrs. Nicholls to place me close to her so we can talk as soon as I am out of the box and she is out of hers.”
Woof!
“Of course you will be out of the box too, buddy! You know Mrs. Nicholls never separates us.” I would’ve loved to pet him, but the plastic casing between us and the fact that it was only December 1st prevented me from reassuring my friend.
Whines.
“I know you’re scared this year will be different, but she always puts us together. You know Mr. Nicholls is teasing when he questions her. You can see in his smile he gave up arguing with her a long time ago.”
December 2nd
“Here you go, you two. Side by side,” Mrs. Nicholls said, placing me exactly where I had hoped. I was, for once, grateful for my inability to move because I would have been jumping up and down from sheer excitement and I would’ve looked like a fool.
“Are you sure this is where you want to put them, Mary?” her husband asked. “Shouldn’t she be by the rink or the lake?”
I prayed that Mr. Nicholls would just leave his wife alone with her creative genius.
“I told you when we found her, Kristopher. She is perfect for Ivan. She needs to be right beside him,” Mary explained patiently, well aware of her husband’s teasing.
Bless you Mary Nicholls and your stubborn mind.
I waited, not so patiently, while she continued to put all the decorations in place. From the stockings above the fireplace to the Christmas tree with the star at the top and the village setting taking up almost all the living room, she usually needed three days to decorate the entire house. She would polish every item to make sure they would shine brightly. She would meticulously place them and take a step back to have a look. She could stay like that for minutes before coming to a decision. A nod meant it felt right and she could move on to the next piece. A frown, however, meant something was not perfect, and she had to move it elsewhere.
December 5th.
It took an entire day to gather up my courage, but I was finally ready to speak.
“Good evening.” Simple. Polite. A good opening line.
Silence.
Maybe she hadn’t heard me?
I cleared my throat. “Good evening. My name is Ivan.”
“It is speaking to me. You are insane, Holly. Completely bananas.” I heard her speak, but it sounded more as if she was talking to herself.
“Holly. It is a lovely name. A lovely name for a lovely girl.”
“It knows my name!” She was still whispering to herself, and I was really wondering why she kept referring to me as “it.” I may not have been a full grown-up man yet, but I was certainly not an “it.”
“Of course, I know your name. You said it out loud and I heard it. Why would you think you are insane, Holly?”
“I’ve been hearing voices for five days and now a Christmas figurine knows my name!”
“I can assure you, you are not insane. In fact, you are talking to me, aren’t you?” I pointed out.
“Now I am having a conversation with it. I really am off my rocker.”
“Holly, maybe you simply forgot. We’re in December, that’s what always happens in December.”
“I don’t remember any of this happening to me before…” She hesitated. “Actually, I don’t remember anything happening… at all.”
“You’ve never talked or moved before?”
“No? Should I have? Did you?”
“Every year since I can remember.”
“If this is true, why can’t I remember? Is there something wrong with me? Maybe I am not insane, maybe I am sick! Oh, no! What am I gonna do!”
“I’m sure we can figure it out. I admit this is strange, but I’m quite certain you are not sick. In all the years I’ve been here, nobody ever got sick. Unless they’ve been painted that way, of course,” I explained, thinking about that one kid. “Poor Timothy always has a runny nose the whole evening. It becomes a mess if he forgets to carry a tissue.”
“Well, if it goes with our painting, I guess I like ice skating?” she said. I remembered the ice skates on her feet.
“I’m sure you’re amazing at it!”
“Maybe. Thanks, Ivan. You’re very kind.”
December 8th.
“What do you like to do when you can move?”
“I like many things… I like ice skating, although I never had the chance to do it with actual skates on my feet. I have to make do with my shoes.” I heard her porcelain laugh, the sweetest, happiest sound. “I like sleigh rides when Mrs. Nicholls makes a mountain. I like hot chocolate even when I get a cup without marshmallows.”
“Why don’t you get one with marshmallows then?”
“Five years ago, Mr. Nicholls tried to help his wife by wiping the ornaments. He used the wrong product, and some paint wore off. She caught him before he had time to wipe all the mugs. Thank goodness.”
“Can she not paint it back?”
“I think their eyesight is not good enough for such a task now. We would end up with mugs of milk.”
“Oh, I see. I wish I could help.”
I snorted at her words.
“Why are you laughing, Ivan? I don’t see what’s funny. That poor woman…”
“I was not laughing at you, I promise. We are talking about eyesight and you keep saying ‘I see.’ That’s funny.”
“Oh! I see why you are laughing now,” she said, on purpose this time.
“You are funny. I like y— that.” I corrected myself just in time.
“Oh… Um… what else is there to do on Christmas Eve?” She sounded flustered and I could not deny that the thought pleased me.
“Well, I know Buster is excited to look out the window. Sometimes, we are lucky and we get to see actual snow falling from the sky. It’s so beautiful! It’s like the fake snow here, only better! Each snowflake is different!”
“That sounds amazing!”
“It really is…”
This is it, Ivan, I told myself. Perfect opportunity. Go for it.
“Would you…”
“What is it, Ivan?”
“Would you… like a song before you fall asleep?”
A song? What is wrong with you, Ivan!
“Oh, uh. Sure.”
That was how I ended up singing “Holy Night” as a lullaby to the girl of my dreams on a December evening, instead of asking her out.
December 18th
“How do you get back in place in time every year?”
“That’s easy! There is always this feeling, like a tingling. That’s the first sign our time is almost over. Then you feel this pull, an urge to go back to a specific place. By the time you get there, you’re itching. Your body wants to put itself back in position. You just have to let go.”
“Could you resist the pull?”
“I don’t know. I would need a good reason to, I suppose.”
December 20th
“Tell me about the snow again.”
“My favourite is when you can’t figure out why it’s falling so slowly,” I explained, thinking about every time Buster and I sat by the window. “It’s like time has slowed and you find yourself thinking that maybe, just maybe, midnight will never come…”
“Wow…”
“And when there’s moonlight? Holly… There’s nothing like it. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen… present company excluded, of course.”
“Ivan… You’ve been so good to me. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“Holly, it’s my pleasure, but I’ve only talked to you. That’s not something to write a story about…” If somebody could’ve heard us, I bet they would’ve grabbed a paintbrush and added some red to my cheeks.
“I would. You found me afraid and thinking I was insane. I don’t know what I did to deserve your kind words, but I liked every conversation we had. Now I’m eager to discover Christmas and make new memories… And not once did you make me feel bad about not remembering anything.”
“About that… Holly, I know you are still worried but everything will be fine. I promise.”
“How can you promise that? You said it yourself, it never happened before.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I…Yes. Yes, I trust you.”
“Holly, would you like to spend Christmas Eve with me?”
“If you don’t mind explaining everything to me like I’m a newborn fawn.”
“I will happily teach you everything I know! Just stick with me when the magic hits and we will have the most wonderful time!”
“You’d do that?”
“We barely know each other, Holly, but the second I saw you enter the closet, I just knew you were special to me. I would do anything for you.”
“Then I guess it’s a date.”
Once again, I was grateful I wasn’t able to move yet. My heart would’ve probably cracked my chest wide open with its wild beating.
- Writer
