Page 9 of Not Another Christmas Movie

“I didn’t do this either, in case you’re wondering,” Nick said. Annie shot him a horrified look and raced to the next house on the block. It too was lit up and overly populated with inflatable creatures. Annie went up to the door and knocked on it for several seconds.

“Someone must be home, all the lights are on!” Annie said desperately, trying to get a look inside. When no one came to the door, she tried the house across the street and found the same thing: no one seemed to be home, and yet all their lights were on. She pounded on the door until she was breathless. She tried the next house, home to Mr. Heartgraves, and cried out his name to the lit-up front window. When he didn’t answer, she walked back to the street.

“I don’t understand. None of this makes sense,” Annie said, finally feeling the ache of fear pulling at her muscles. “I’m scared,” Annie admitted to Nick.

“Me too,” Nick said, softening. “At least we’re in this together, right?” Annie gave him a shrug in response. “Happy to have you here too, Annie,” Nick sighed.

“It’s not you, I don’t want to be here at all. With anyone. I want to be alone on the couch, eating a bagel and drinking a cold brew,” Annie said, returning to her frantic pace. “We need to find some answers. Let’s go,” she ordered, and Nick wordlessly followed. When they approached the stop sign, they both stopped in their tracks. There was a quaint wooden hand-painted sign reading “Main Street.”

“Whoa,” Nick marveled. Annie nodded, peering down the road. It was all lit up and bustling with people; perhaps that’s where all their neighbors had gone. Streetlamps were covered in garlands, and she could see another handmade sign advertising Christmas trees alongside a series of colorful shops.

“What time is it? Why is it so bustling? Don’t people have jobs?” Annie asked, and Nick shrugged. The familiar sound of bells caught their attention again, and they both turned to see a man wearing an impressive full Santa suit ringing a golden bell next to a red donation pail. “Stoned Santa!” Annie hissed at Nick as he scrutinized the man. “He’s just cleaner here!” Annie pushed her way to Santa to confront him.

“Hey,” Annie said.

“Ho, ho, ho!” the man said, full-jolly mode turned all the way up.

“No time for that! What’s going on here? Did you do this?” Annie asked, pointing a finger at his chest. The man stopped ringing his bell to address her. He looked deep into Annie’s eyes, and she had the uneasy feeling he was studying her soul.

“The snowstorm?” the man asked innocently. “No, dear, my magic can’t compete with Mother Nature.”

“Snowstorm?” Nick asked.

“Well, yes. It’s closed the roads, and unfortunately, all communications service is out too,” the man explained.

“That’s not a thing,” Annie said.

“Are you saying all the roads out of town are closed? And no one has the internet?” Nick asked.

“No phones either,” the man said, looking unfazed by the situation.

“This is ridiculous,” Annie told Nick. “Let’s go talk to someone else.”

“Everything you could wish for is right here,” the man said, looking into Annie’s eyes again and sending goosebumps across her whole body. Annie grabbed Nick’s arm to move him up the street, now apparently called Main Street. Annie looked around and hurled herself in the direction of a store that appeared to only sell snow globes. It was packed with people and had a line out the door. Annie approached the waiting strangers.

“Hi,” Annie breathed out, “I know this is going to sound crazy—”

“Why, little Annie Meyers! Is that you?” An older woman smiled. Annie studied her face, there was nothing recognizable to be found. “Oh, dear, so nice to see you! I’ve been so worried the storm had stopped you from coming home! How’s Arthur?”

“The cat?” Annie asked, shaking her head, already bewildered from the interaction.

“I’m sorry, honey, I won’t be able to let you cut in line, if that’s what you’re hoping for,” The woman said, gesturing to the long line behind her. “I don’t want to end up on the naughty list.”

“Um, no, that’s not what I’m hoping for,” Annie started, still a mess of words piling on top of each other without direction. “Could I borrow your phone? I need to make contact with someone.”

“You young people with your devices,” the woman tsk-tsked. “I don’t carry a mobile phone. Besides, the snowstorm knocked everything out.”

“Right, the storm … so I’m to assume it was powerful enough to take out all means of communication but not strong enough to keep people away from waiting in line for snow globes?” Annie asked, and the woman stared at her blankly. “Why are there so many people out and about if there’s a snowstorm? I don’t understand,” Annie tried, already sensing that this woman wouldn’t be able to offer much more than additional confusion.

“Sorry, Annie, looks like they’re letting a few more folks into the store; we can catch up later,” the woman said, shooing Annie back toward Nick. Without a chance to think or try talking to another person, Annie wove them through the crowds of people, past the row of shops, until they reached what looked like a wall of snow at the end of Main Street. Annie tried to pass but was met by solid ice behind a curtain of thick white flakes. Not knowing what else to do, she ran back down the street (as well as she could in her satin slippers and pajamas) and tried to go the other way until she came to another wall of snow that was impossible to penetrate. Annie threw her arms up to the sky and spun around.

“What are you waiting for, huh? What are you waiting for?!” Annie yelled.

“Who are you screaming at?” Nick asked when she was done.

“You know, from I Still Know What You Did Last Summer? When Jennifer Love Hewitt screams, ‘What are you waiting for, huh? What are you waiting for?’ to the sky?” Annie asked, mimicking the movement again.

“I’ve never seen it,” Nick shrugged, and Annie shook her head in disbelief before dissolving back into her whirl of panic.