Rusty the Snowman

[Howard10]

Minutes after the last child had vanished, things began to change inside the snowman. This continued throughout the night, until the sun rose, pulling its vast bulk over the horizon to glimmer down the slushy streets. It took a little longer for the snowman to feel the star'€™s first kiss, for it rested in the shadow of a large apartment tower. At 8am, almost an hour after New London first lit up, the snowman'€™s face was dyed gold in the cold morning light. It shivered all over as something inside it awoke and began to draw in solar energy, powering itself, feeding. The button nose shook out and dropped to the floor with a plop as the snow it was contained in rattled and swayed. A door slammed in the distance, and the shivering stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

The children came out to play a little while later, chattering and running around. The off-white of the snow was further muddied and churned beneath their boots, to a sucking brown paste. One of them picked up the button and pressed it firmly back in to place. They had the day to themselves because it was the weekend. At any rate, the schools were closed because of the weather. It was a nice break from the rain, whatever the grownups said. The snowman was left ignored and unattended; there was only so much you could do with one after it was finished. As snowballs were flung and festive songs sung, the snowman'€™s head swivelled. Looking. Tracking. No-one noticed, or at least if they had, they didn'€™t mention it. Who would believe them about a moving snowman?

Inside, away from the clamouring children, parents sat down in the warm confines of their flats and watched the news. Skimmers grounded due to weather, public institutions closing due to budget cuts, and an esteemed professor of nanotechnology missing. No-one really paid much attention to the last. His name had done the rounds recently, given that he'€™d purchased a building a few streets away. But no-one ever saw him, and he didn'€™t even live there. So no-one cared. Outside, the snowman continued to watch and wait.

The day came and went, the temperatures plummeting with the light. The children flocked home to their parents, and the snowman continued to wait. A BPA night constable strolled past just before midnight. There had been reports of prowlers in the area, so he was doing his bit to keep the residents happy. He had a bulky communicator in his hand. He didn'€™t need to hold it, but the inefficient power cell kicked out heat, keeping his fingers from going numb inside his mittens. He stopped in front of the snowman and grinned, remembering the days when he could legitimately build them without being mocked. There was a loud crack from behind him. He spun around, jumping. It was just a falling icicle shattering on the pavement. There was a far louder bang, again from directly behind him. He flinched again, accidentally dropping the communicator in the process. Swinging around he couldn'€™t see what could have made the noise.

But the snowman seemed a little closer. He spent 10 minutes looking for the communicator, then scratched his head and wrote it off as a lost cause. He'€™d requisition another. Spooked, he shuffled back to the Station as fast as he would allow himself. However, the communicator slowly worked its way deeper into the snowman, moved on and up, as if by osmosis. The snowman continued to watch and wait.