A Timless Solstice

20251202

Written for Luna Asli Kolcu's "Myths of Winter - Part 1" event.

While Tim would’ve considered himself unlucky to come down with appendicitis anyway, the Solstice Holiday had to be the worst time to be in hospital. Going through all this suffering ought to at least earn him days off school!
He picked at the blanket and pouted and wished he hadn’t been brave and noble and grown-up and told everyone to have a proper Solstice at home without him. Selfishness would’ve been so much less miserable.
They’d better be enjoying themselves!

Learning that his family was subdued, mopey even, would’ve been conflicting news. The Solstice traditions were being observed, and even enjoyed, but lack of Tim left everything off-kilter.
“We’ll go see him overmorrow.” Mum said bracingly. “And we’ll take his presents.”
Joan considered suggesting that they take all the presents and open them with Tim, everyone together as they should be. But getting to the hospital meant two buses or a taxi; and with Tim’s presents it’d be a taxi; and everyone else’s presents would make it two taxis. And one was expensive enough. So she put on a brave smile and nodded.
“Alright.” Dad rubbed his hands together and grinned at Joan and Rory. Grateful they weren’t making this harder, and pained it had to be asked of them. “We’ve built and decorated the deer, roasted the pickles, and painted the windows. Was there anything else?”
“Our shoes!” The children whooped, as if they thought he really had forgotten, and as if everything was normal.
“Oh yes, of course!”
Last year’s worn wooden clogs were waiting by the back door, cleaned and polished, ready to be put out in the garden. Joan picked up Tim’s as well as hers; she was pretty sure what his wish would be.
The wooden bench was dragged to the middle, so the shoes were up out of the mud in clear sight of the Solstice Stars. Just like every other year, the clogs were lined up smallest to biggest.
Joan cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered to the crisp clear sky “I wish Tim would get well soon.”
She was sure she heard Rory (who, bless him, hadn’t gotten the hang of whispering being quiet yet) wish for “Tim being allowed to get out of bed and play.”
Hand in hand the oldest and youngest went back inside, to get ready for bed and a Tim-less Solstice.
Out in the garden the night was cold and quiet. The stars shone bright overhead, seeming low enough to pluck. If you were a sensitive sort of soul you might describe the air as being alive. Thoughtful, even.
There is a limit to what stars can do. Even Solstice Stars. But with three wholehearted wishes, all stacked together and glued by love… yes, they could work with this.
Starlight settled in beads on Tim’s scuffed, stained, chipped clogs. Celestial dew anointing a pair of seasoned adventurers. While the new clogs waiting to be unwrapped would tremble at such a quest, these shoes leapt at the call.
Right off the bench into frozen mud. Ha! They laughed at mud.
A touch shakily (for it’s hard to walk without feet guiding you) the clogs strutted down the side path and wriggled under the gate. Celestial magic sloshing inside at every step.
It was many steps to the hospital, for that was in town. You had to walk down the village Main Street then keep going once the sidewalk turned into a verge and then once you got to the town the hospital was a big building with signposts.
The clogs were sure they’d figure it out. They’d been there a few times, though guided by Tim, and on the bus. But they couldn’t take a bus or taxi alone, and there was no time to wait around for guiding feet! They had to be brave. Like Tim.
So they gathered all the courage and stubbornness which had soaked into their wood over a long and exciting year. And they walked.

Leroy Pollock had been alive for fifty-eight years, and had manned the hospital front gate for over half that. But he had never before seen anything half so remarkable as a pair of clogs walking themselves up to the gate.
“My!” He tipped his cap back to stare. “This’s either a wild prank… or a genuine Solstice Miracle.”
The clogs hopped in what he fancied was an earnest, reassuring fashion. And when he carefully waved above them he found no sign of wires or owt.
“Hm. I’ll be! Do you need to get in, little ones?”
Hop hop! Yes!
Protocol stated no visiting outside designated hours except with permission from senior staff. But good luck getting hold of them in reasonable time on a Solstice morning! And, though Leroy’s childhood was misty memories, he knew as well as anyone that you needed to claim your wish before the sun came up and stars went to sleep.
Time was of the essence. A miracle hung in the balance. Protocol (and senior staff) would simply have to cope.
So, for the first time in twenty-three years, Leroy Pollock abandoned his post. To escort two muddy, tired, brave clogs to the paediatrics ward. (By carrying them, for they could barely shuffle.)

Tim was woken by the nurse shaking his shoulder and whispering apologies. “But the sun’ll be up any minute!”
Being used to nurses by now, Tim groggily let her sit him up and turn him and slip things on his feet.
Familiar things.
Suddenly wide awake, bubbling with energy in fact, Tim jumped up to stare at his clogs while the nurse clapped and beamed.

In the village Joan woke their parents squealing that Tim’s shoes were gone!! Then, when they didn’t understand, she explained Tim was better and needed to be picked up. They were still arguing with her when the hospital called.

And so, while Solstice celebrations started late, they were not Tim-less. And though those clogs never walked again, Tim treasured them forever.

Prompt was “Children leave boots outside their doors for blessings. In the morning, one boot walks home by itself.”