Chapter 8 - Silence in the Great Room
It took twenty minutes to clear the lodge.
The socialites, the business partners, and the fraternity brothers cleared out faster than smoke up a chimney, slipping out into the falling snow with their coats buttoned tight, desperate to distance themselves from a felony arrest on Christmas Eve. By eight o'clock, the only people left in the great room were Evelyn, my father, Grant, Eli, and me.
My father was sitting slumped in a leather armchair by the fire, staring blankly into the flames as if he were trying to figure out how to adjust the thermostat on his entire life. Grant was pacing near the front windows, muttering obscenities under his breath while staring at his phone, realizing that his credit cards were about to be frozen alongside his mother’s assets.
Evelyn walked over to the massive blue spruce in the corner.
The branches were thick, heavy with pine needles and the scent of the forest, completely dark against the flickering firelight.
She turned to look down at Eli, who was still holding tightly to Captain Waddle, his big brown eyes wide and solemn.
“Well, helper,” Evelyn said, her voice softening into a warm, crinkling smile that reached her eyes for the first time all night. “The tree has been waiting a very long time. Do you think you’re up for it?”
Eli looked up at the massive dark pine, then down at his small red boots, and finally at his great-grandmother. The memory of the cold porch seemed to melt away, replaced by the magic of the moment.
He nodded firmly. “My hands are warm now.”
“Good,” Evelyn said. She reached down and picked up her titanium cane, leaning on it as she walked him over to the heavy wooden base of the tree.
Hidden behind the lower boughs, right where it had been for fifty years, was the brass floor switch—the beast.
Eli knelt down in the pine needles. He reached his small, steady hand deep into the fragrant green branches, his fingers wrapping around the cold metal toggle. He didn't hesitate. He planted his thumb and pushed upward with all his might.
Click.
For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.
Then, with a soft, electrical hum, a thousand tiny incandescent bulbs burst into brilliant, warm, golden life.
The light cascaded up through the branches in a brilliant wave, catching the glass ornaments, the spun-glass angels, and the polished wood of the vaulted ceiling. The entire great room flooded with a rich, amber glow that chased away every shadow, every cold memory, and every lie that had been built beneath its boughs.
Eli stood up slowly, clapping his hands together as his face broke into a wide, triumphant grin.
“I did it!” he shouted, jumping up and down in the pine needles. “I beat the beast!”
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Evelyn laughed—a deep, booming sound that rattled the rafters and echoed out into the quiet mountain night. She reached down, scooped him up into her arms, and kissed his cheek.
“You sure did, bug,” she whispered, looking over his head at me. “You sure did.”
