Playmate
“We have to do it just like the song says,” Jenny whined. Bobby wouldn’t play right and she was very frustrated. “It said ‘two eyes made out of coal,’ not ‘two eyes made from a button and a carrot.’”
She snatched the offending objects out of the snowman’s face and placed the pieces of charcoal in their places.
“Not gonna work no way,” Bobby grumbled. “It’s jus’ a stupid ol’ song.”
“It’ll work. Then Daddy will be jealous because he won’t play with us, but Frosty will play as long as we want to play.” She stepped back and studied (mainly) her handiwork.
The snowman was taller than her, so about five feet tall. Two coal eyes, one button nose, Daddy’s antique corncob pipe placed in the smiling mouth she’d made with one finger. She’d added fallen tree branches for arms. She shook off the notion that those skeletal limbs were reaching for her. She’d added a festive scarf, a Christmas gift from Granny. Only the finishing touch was left.
Bobby tried to place the old silk top hat they found in the attic on top of Frosty’s head.
“No!” Jenny shouted, snatching the hat away. “I’ll do it. You’ll only screw it up.”
“This is a stupid game anyway!” Bobby shouted. He stomped away heading for the house. “I’m gonna tell Dad that you won’t let me play!”
“Okay, Frosty,” Jenny whispered. “Time to wake up and play.” She placed the hat on Frosty’s head.
There must have been some magic in that
Old silk hat they found
For when they placed it on his head
He began to dance around.
Oh, Frosty the Snowman
Was alive as he could be…
Slowly, the frozen head turned to look at her. The coal eyes were menacing without the shine of life. The smile opened, revealing sharp icicle teeth. Déjà vu, Jenny thought as the skeletal limbs reached for her. So frozen with fear she was that, as the arms she placed on him pulled her forward, she couldn’t even scream when those icy razors pierced her throat.
The snowman tossed the girl’s body aside. He turned toward the house. And waited.
There was another child inside that had wanted to play.