The Christmas Sleigh – Chapter 6

Story posted by Chris Cade | Short Christmas Stories on Dec 6, 2009 in Inspirational Christmas Stories (If known, the original author is listed below)

Special thanks to L. M. McCleland – author and contributor of this story!

I was tooling around with my fifth batch of kids when we noticed a column of smoke rising a few blocks away down the road. Five minutes later, a fire truck went by with its siren blaring. As soon as we stopped, all the kids hopped off the sleigh and ran toward the smoke. Their parents chased after them. Nobody paid me and no one was waiting for a ride. I decided to check it out myself, and chugged along after the crowd up the road.
The scene was chaos when I arrived. Two houses were separated by a copse of trees about 200 feet wide. The copse was almost engulfed with fire. The fire was very close to the house on the left, and the firemen were spraying down the roof and walls to keep it from torching. A huge crowd of people was milling around the road where the police were keeping them back.
I stood near the rumbling fire truck where a tired looking fireman was talking on the radio. The word “Chief” was emblazoned on his back. A young looking fireman came bounding through the snow. He was breathless but managed to say, “The fire’s spreading in the treetops. A bunch of trees are down on the other side of the grove. One of them is in contact with the other house. If the fire gets over to that side, it’s a goner.”
The Chief said, “Any way to haul those trees out of there and make a fire break?”
The younger one shook his head, still pointing. “I don’t think so. They’re way back off the road and the snow’s too deep.”
“How much longer before the fire gets there?” yelled the chief over a sudden roar in the flames.
“Fifteen minutes maybe.”
The chief leaned back on the truck as he looked at the scene in front of him. Then he made his mind up. “We won’t have back up for another half hour at least. We’re already in place, and I know we can save this house. Everyone’s out of the house, so just keep them out. Get back there and see if you can make a fire break somehow. I’ll be over there in a few minutes with some help. Got that? Now go!”
The young guy ran back to the other side. I went on the road in his direction and saw what he was talking about. A group of huge, old trees had fallen down and were leaning up against a small white house. If the trees caught fire, that house would go up for sure.
I sprinted back to the tractor and sleigh, slipping and falling a couple of times as I went. I fired her up and went top speed up the road.
As I passed the large crowd, several people turned and pointed. I realized I still had the sleigh in tow!
When I got back to the white house, I saw a pickup truck stuck in the snow about halfway between the road and the fallen trees. A bunch of guys were trying to push it out of the way, but its wheels had dug themselves in pretty deep.
I stopped and began unhitching the sleigh. Looking up, I saw a woman in tears, standing a little ways from the crowd. She looked as if she was praying as she glanced from the truck to the house. The noise from the fire was noticeably louder than before. Two little girls clung to the woman. One of them must have been only 3 years old. She had a full head of messed-up, black fuzzy hair. She looked at me with an intense fearful stare. In one hand she held a ratty old stuffed bunny that was missing a leg and clung to her mother’s coat with the other.
Once the sleigh was free, I chugged the old Ford back in the snow, up to the truck and paused. The guys abandoned the truck and began directing me toward the trees. A couple of firemen grabbed the end of the chain and pulled it back to the tree that was against the house. “Thank God you’re here,” one of them yelled at me.
The tree was so big that your arms couldn’t have reached around its trunk. It was broken near the ground, but was still attached pretty well to the stump. A man in a flannel shirt was cutting away at the break with a chain saw. The fireman looped the chain around the trunk and hooked it securely. They waved the man with the saw away and yelled. “Pull!”
I gave her some gas and pulled the chain taut. The tires dug in and the chain wiggled like a guitar string. The tree shifted a little, but didn’t want to move. They finally waved at me to stop, and the chain saw went back to work.
He cut at the break for what seemed like forever, and again they waned him off and yelled, “Pull!” to me. This time the whole tree rocked and shook as the tractor grunted and yanked on the chain. A loud crack came from the stump, and I revved up even more. With a splintering sound, the trunk broke free, and I pulled it away. The tree slid down the side of the house to the round. A little cheer came from the crowd as I dragged the tree away from the damaged wall.
By now, the fire was just reaching the far end of the row of fallen trees. My load was almost completely clear of the house when the rest of the leaning trees cascaded into one another like a row of falling dominoes. One of them fell right up against the house again. There was a whoosh and a crackling roar as the flaming tree on the far end fell into its neighbor’s branches. The fireman and volunteers scattered, telling and cursing, under the shower of sparks and flaming twigs, some of which swirled skyward in the growing updraft. I could see panic in their eyes.
I pulled my tree several yards further away. A fireman ran up to me and shouted, “C’mon, we gotta do it again, but much faster this time.” They unhitched my chain from the tree, and I looped around into position for the other tree, now threatening the house.
I watched from my seat through the heat-rippled air as the chain saw went to work on the new break. The tree’s branches were already ablaze and flames began to lick at the open wound on the house’s wall. The men’s shouts, and the chain saw’s buzz, were drowned out by the fire’s roar. I was so close that I could feel the strong ground wind being sucked into the hungry flames.
The fire had worked to within a few feet of the yellow-coated fireman who was frantically winding the chain around the tree trunk. The snow around them had begun to steam, and I had a hard time seeing in the fog. When the chain was secure, they all hopped clear and waved at me to pull. I gunned the tractor and the chain snapped taut again. The tree moved a little, but the tractor’s tires began to slip on an icy spot. I backed up about 6 feet and steered toward a bare spot in the snow.
This time, the wheels dug in deep and pulled hard. The strained chain stretched straight as an arrow into the flames around the tree trunk. I gave the truck full throttle and lurched the steering wheel back and forth to give the tires fresh earth to grab.
Without warning, the tree fell free and we surged forward. With a hail of sparks and snaps, the tree pulled quickly clear of the house. I dragged it about 100 feet away, leaving a trail of flaming twigs hissing in my snowy wake. The ragged end of the trunk snowplowed into a drift and I could move it no further.
The man in the flannel shirt sprayed a garden hose at the small flames on the house’s wall, while the fireman pulled away some broken, burning branches that were strewn near the house. My job was finished, so I got down and watched everyone work. After a few minutes, it looked like the fire was out, although the house had a large black smoking scar on its wall, reaching almost to the eaves. There was a good 400-foot fire and wood-free zone around the house.
Another fire truck arrived and the fresh crew went right to work. They sprayed foam all over the damaged side of the house, and then attacked the fire in the copse. The tired young fireman stopped to rest a bit. He stomped by me, clapped me on the shoulder, and nodded as he went by.
The guy in the flannel shirt stepped away and went to the mother and two little girls. They hugged and wept openly. I was still watching them when the young fireman reappeared and handed me a bottle of water. He nodded toward the family and said, simply, “That’s their house.”
“It’s okay, right? No major damage?” I asked.
“Yeah. A some siding, some insulation, a paint job, and she’ll be as good as new. By the way, you don’t need that hat anymore. It’s not exactly fireman’s regulation, anyway.”
“Huh? Oh!” I said as I felt my head. I’d had the top hat on the whole time! The fireman smirked, clapped me on the back, and strode away.
I noticed Eileen, the red-haired girl I’d given my first ride to. She walked up to the frizzy-haired girl and whispered something in her ear. The frizzy-haired girl locked her big dark eyes on me again. Then she broke from her mother, ran up to me, gave my leg a squeeze, and ran back again before her Mom and Dad noticed she was gone. She still looked scared.
The fear in that little girl’s eyes and her ragged bunny kept floating in front of me as I hooked up the sleigh and drove back to the mall parking lot. Time was getting short, so I ran inside the mall. Things were very clear to me now. I knew just what I had to buy.
I emerged a short time later and walked back to the white house carrying a large bag. The firemen were still battling the fire in the copse, but they seemed to have the upper hand and weren’t as frantic as before. The mother and the two girls still stood in the same spot, surrounded by neighbors and friends.
I stood near a tree a little ways away from them until the frizzy-haired girl saw me. She still looked a little frightened. I squatted down and reached into the bag without taking my eyes off her. I grinned and pulled a big stuffed bunny out of the bag. Her eyes got even wider when I held it out to her. She slowly came up to me, gave me a really big hug, and grabbed the rabbit. Then, her sister came over. I pulled another rabbit out of my top hat and handed it to her.
“Thank you, mister. Merry Christmas!” she smiled and skipped back to her sister and mother. Eileen, the red-haired girl, came up to the frizzy-haired girl, put her arm around her shoulders, and whispered, “See? I told you he was one of Santa’s helpers!”
I looked up at their mother, whose face was smudged and tear-stained. She had been watching from the crowd the whole time. She took a long look at me, then began waving at her husband as she glanced back and forth between me and him. Taking off my top hat, I quickly disappeared into the crowd and walked back to the mall.
I went straight to the food court. I didn’t see any of my family there, so I grabbed a chair at an empty table. I didn’t know how exhausted I was until I sat down. I leaned back and must have fallen asleep in seconds.

Also read   | Chapter 1  | Chapter 2 |  Chapter 3 |   Chapter 4 |   Chapter 5 |  Chapter 6 |  Chapter 7 |
–by  L. M. McCleland