“Go back out and play, dear.” “But, uh… it’s cold outside.” Jamie stalled.

“Then put on your mittens.”

“But Mom-”

“Jamie,” Mom said sternly, “I need to get dinner ready and I can’t very well do that if you’re gallivanting around the house like a maniac.” She said quickly in her aggravation. “Now go.”

“But Mom, I can’t go outside!” Jamie waited for her to ask why but she was too busy chopping icky broccoli fluerettes into her casserole, so he answered anyway, “It’ll get me!”

“What’ll get you, dear?” she said uninterestedly as the large glass casserole dish landed in the oven with an echoing clank.

“The snow-beast!” Jamie exclaimed, his little heart beating faster with each word.

“Now who told you that?”

Jamie paused. “Dexter…”

“Dexter was just playing tricks on you, there’s no snow-beast. Now shoo.”

Jamie tugged on his mother’s stained apron as she turned to set the timer on the new electric oven. “But mom there really is a snow beast! It ate Tommy Lardon down the street!” Mom pulled her apron away from her son’s frantic grip and began fiddling with the dials on the stove while referring to a small blue pamphlet entitled Your Electric Oven and You. “Who?” “Tommy Lardon!” He repeated anxiously. “There’s no Tommy Lardon down the street, Jamie.” She assured him dully. Jamie sighed with frustration and threw his arms forward as only a 7 year old can, “I know, that’s what I’m trying to tell you! The snow-beast ate him!!”

Mom grunted with exasperation at her son, as well as the large brown dial which refused to turn one quarter to the left as it was apparently supposed to. “Jamie, no one named Tommy Lardon ever lived on this street and he certainly hasn’t been eaten by any snow-beast. Dexter was just being mean when he told you that, got it?” she turned to face him and Jamie stood very still, then nodded ashamedly. “Good, now run along outside so I can get dinner ready.”

“Okay….” Jamie sighed, defeated, and slowly began to put on his heavy winter boots and coat; then he stopped. “Mom?” Mom sighed, “Yes, Jamie?” “What’s gallivanting?” “Shoo!” She insisted for the last time, slapping him on the behind.

Jamie assumed the look of a rather frightened orange marshmallow as the storm door shut behind him and suddenly all hope of escape was lost. He surveyed the yard carefully from where he was standing with his back pressed firmly against the door; then waddled frantically over to where his older brother Dexter and his friend were building snow forts.

Dexter noticed him crunching across the yard first. “Jamie, I told you, go back inside, it’s too dangerous out here.”

“What about you?” he asked.

“We’re protecting you and Mom from it. Go back inside.”

“Mom- Mom said there’s no snow-beast.” Jamie stuttered. “She said- she said you were just being mean.” Jamie rubbed his shaking hands together, hoping that what he said was true. Dexter thought quick.

“Was Mom making dinner?”

“Yeah…”

“Did she put broccoli in it?”

Jamie paused in confusion. “Yeah…”

“Do you like broccoli?”

“Ew, no.” he replied quickly.

“So why would Mom put broccoli in dinner and then send you out here?”

Jamie thought, then shrugged. “I dunno.”

Dexter shook his head in mock sympathy. “She wants the snow-beast to eat you.”

Jamie’s eyes grew wide and moist. “N-no she doesn’t!”

“She sent you out here to be eaten so she wouldn’t have to deal with such a picky eater all the time.”

“No she didn’t!”

“Besides, you smell.”

“Do not!” Little Jamie began to cry, despite his efforts to keep the tears back. He turned around and began hurrying as best he could toward the house.

Dexter’s eyes grew wide with panic and his backside suddenly began to sting as he remembered what happened the last time Jamie told Mom he’d been mean.

“Jamie!” He got up quickly and ran after him. “Jamie I was only joking! I was joking!”

Jamie stopped and looked at him, still sniffling. “Promise?” Dexter sighed, “Yes Jamie, I promise, Mom didn’t send you out here to be eaten.”

Jamie considered, sniffed wetly, and nodded, “Okay.” Dexter put out his hands and squatted cautiously as though to ward off a beast, “Okay then.”

“Hey Dex! Come on! Let’s go throw snowballs at the cars that go by your house!” Paul called from where he had been by his snow fort the whole time. Dexter turned quickly and smiled widely and mischievously. “Yeah! Definitely!” Paul rose and the two of them ran to the front of the house.

“Don’t get eaten!” Dexter called over his shoulder as the two laughed and rounded the southeast corner of the house.

Jamie stood there alone, unmoving, for several moments. Suddenly he heard a twig snap from across the yard and he turned his head at whiplash speed to see what it was. He looked as closely as he could, but saw nothing. A cold winter wind ran through the chimes by the snow-covered shed, but all else was silent.

A billow of steam expelled through Jamie’s lips as he breathed nervously. He wrung his cold, stiff hands and called out, “H-hello?” There was no answer, and Jamie bit his lower lip, then tried again. “Hello?” Still no answer. “Billy?” He tried, and crunched forward a step. Jamie whined nervously. “There is no snow-beast.” he tried to convince himself. “There is no snow-beast. There is no snow-beast. There is no-”

Suddenly another twig snapped and a crunch of snow sounded over by the southwest corner of the house. Jamie gasped and whirled around to see…

The snow-beast! Jamie let out a yelp as it started coming toward him, faster, faster, faster! Jamie fell down in trying to back away and grunted frantically with terror, unable to make himself call for help. He curled up into a shaking orange ball, closed his eyes, and nearly wet himself as the beast was upon him.

The snow-beast’s long slobbery tongue tasted the flesh of his cheek. “Aroof!!” Jamie peeked out from behind his hands as the beast shook the snow from his long brown spotted coat. Jamie sighed with relief. “Scruffy, you scared me!” Scruffy panted with delight. “Aroof!”

Jamie sat up in the snow and ruffled the fur on Scruffy’s neck, then leaned over and vigorously scratched the spot he knew made Scruffy twitch and thump his foot on the ground. When the dog did this it made Jamie giggle, and he felt better.

For the next ten minutes or so, Jamie contented himself with playing fetch with Scruffy. Though after a while, Scruffy was more interested in chewing the stick than bringing it back to Jamie. “Come ‘ere boy! Come ‘ere!” Jamie squatted and clapped his hands together to get the dog’s attention. “Come on Scruffy! Come here! Bring me the stick!” But Scruffy ignored him. “Oh well,” said Jamie dejectedly, “my arm was getting tired anyway.”

He plopped himself down in the snow and began to inanely push the snow together between his legs. Suddenly Scruffy’s sensitive ears pricked up and he forsook his chewing stick to dart back around the southwest corner of the house. “Scruffy!” Jamie called. “Scruffy where are you going? Come back!” But again the dog ignored him.

“Stupid dog…”

Inside the house, Mom was still having troubles with the electric stove. She sighed and brushed her long brown hair out of her face. She took up the pamphlet and read the instructions again. To heat your oven: Turn the temperature dial to the desired temperature in degrees Fahrenheit (°F) and the time dial to the desired cook time in minutes. Be sure to include the preheat time and do not put food into the oven before it has completely blah blah blah blah blah…

Mom closed the pamphlet and looked at all the dials and knobs above the surface of the stove. “Which one’s the damn temperature dial?!” She exclaimed. “SAM!!” She called her daughter in a loud frustrated voice that brought her promptly from her bedroom. “What’d I do now?” she asked spitefully. Mom sighed, “Would it kill you get dressed after noon?” Samantha looked down at her red pajama pants and then back at her mother who sucked her teeth. The teenager rolled her eyes. “Did you really call me out here to tell me to get dressed on a Saturday?”

“I can’t figure this stupid thing out.” Samantha sighed and walked over, some people, she thought, I swear…

“I need to set it to 350° for an hour.” Samantha shrugged and reached out to turn a black knob on the far right to a setting between 300 and 400 and another black knob once around. The contraption beeped once and began to heat itself. Mom looked on in confusion and disgust at her daughter’s ease with the technology. “What’re we having anyway?”

“Chicken and broccoli casserole.”

“Where is it?”

“In the oven, of course.”

“You’re not supposed to put it in there until it’s up to temperature.”

“Excuse me young lady but I think I know a thing or two more about cooking than you do; and this is an electric oven, you don’t have to wait for it to heat up like the old gas stove.”

Samantha shrugged, “Fine, but it’s gonna heat weird and you’re gonna have to put it back in later.”

Her mother sucked her teeth again.

“Where’s Jamie?” Samantha asked, suddenly realizing his absence.

“Outside, finally. He insisted he couldn’t go out because Dex told him there was a snow-beast that was going to eat him.”

“It already ate Tommy Lardon down the street, right?”

Mom looked confused, “That’s what he said, yes.”

Samantha chuckled, “I told Dex that story once when he was little, scared him out of his wits, ha!”

Mom looked angrily at her daughter, whose eyes widened when she realized what she had said.

“Well… you know… it was just a joke…”

“Stupid dog.” Jamie muttered as he kicked at Dexter’s fort. “Stupid brother.” He kicked it again. “Stupid Mom, sending me out here with the snow-beast.” Again he kicked it and a large chunk of it crumbled and fell to the ground.

“I bet I will get eaten.” Jamie repositioned himself to kick down the rest of the fort. “Stupid snow-beast.”

He raised his foot to strike and just as it knocked down there was a loud thump coming from behind him. Jamie turned quickly, expecting to see Dexter there ready to throttle him for knocking down his fort, but there was no one.

Jamie looked about, trying to stay calm. “Scruffy?” He called shakily. It’s just Scruffy, just like last time, there’s no snow-beast. He tried to convince himself.

“C-come ‘ere boy! Come ‘ere!” But nothing came except another loud thump.

Jamie started with surprise. Could it be the snow-beast? Jamie didn’t really want to find out, but he tried to be brave and slowly walked toward the thumping sounds at the southwest corner of the house. “Scruffy!” he called, making sure he didn’t stutter. “Come ‘ere boy!” another loud thump shook the snow off a nearby branch. “Come ‘ere Scruffy!” Another thump sounded very close. Jamie stopped moving and everything was still.

“Hello?”

“GRAWR!!” The snow-beast leaped out and Jamie shut his eyes and screamed as loud as he could! The monster had him pinned to the ground in a flash and stuffed a huge pile of snow into his face.

“Ha! Ha! Gotcha, scaredy cat!” The monster sang. Jamie opened his eyes cautiously through the snow and saw Dexter peering at him mischievously with a great, grand smile across his face.

“Alright, Dex, you got ‘im. Can we go throw snow at cars now like I said before? You’ve had us stalking this kid for like half an hour now.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Dexter got up off of his little brother and laughed as the two went to do their mischief.

Jamie got up and brushed himself off as he glared at his brother. His face was already red from having the snow pushed in his face, but it was also getting red hot with steaming anger now. He swore he’d get back at him for that.

About an hour later the oven made a ding sound to alert Mom that the casserole was done. Outside the kitchen window a car honked twice and she waved to them and smiled politely, but they didn’t wave back or even look at her. She shrugged it off and opened the oven door with the excess of her apron and then used two homemade potholders to take the dish from the rack. Mom lifted the door with her foot, pushed it closed suavely with her hip and set the dish down on the black surface of the oven top.

There now, she thought, all done, and not, I might add, undercooked from the looks of it. “Take that Samantha.” She said under her breath.

“Sam! Dinner’s ready! Come set the table!”

“’Kay!”

Mom went to the back door and opened it. She stood in the doorway and called out “Jamie! Dex! Paul! Dinner!” Jamie came out from behind a snow drift and waddled to the door. “Did you have fun playing outside?” Mom asked him, smiling. “I was eaten by the snow-beast.” He muttered angrily. “Not from the looks of you, you weren’t. And don’t use that tone with me. Where’s your brother and Paul?” “The snow-beast ate them too.” Jamie muttered. “Really now, stop that silliness, where’s your brother?”

Jamie kept himself from smirking just long enough to say “Throwing snow at cars out front.”

Mom stopped smiling. “What?!” She stomped to the front door and tore it open.

“One, two, THREE!” from their hiding spot behind the hedge Dexter and Paul flung two huge snowballs at the passing car. The irritated driver honked and shouted, “Damn kids!” The two boys laughed hysterically and gave each other a high-five. Dexter kept laughing as he turned to ready another snowball, but Paul had stopped laughing and turned very white.

“Come on! I think I hear another one coming!”

“Dex…”

“Shh! It’s almost here!”

“Dex…”

“What?!” Dexter turned around and instantly dropped the snowball he was holding. “H-hi Mom…”

Jamie chuckled to himself as he listened to his brother being scolded. He was getting paddled for sure this time. Samantha served Jamie and herself a couple of chicken breasts from the casserole as they waited.

As Mom finally came back into the kitchen and sat down Jamie took a bite of his chicken. Samantha served her a piece of chicken as well and let her spoon out however much broccoli she wanted herself.

“Mom?” Jamie spoke without fear. Mom sighed, what else could he possibly have to say? “Yes Jamie?” “My chicken’s still cold on the inside.”