He made his way to the last stall, Mom creeping behind him like she was in a Scooby-Doo movie. Moms!
He opened the door, half expecting the reindeer to have disappeared and left behind a pile of glitter. But she was there, looking at him with a lot of curiosity.
“Billy,” Mom breathed quietly. “What? How?”
“I found her.” He walked into the stall, holding the blanket out so the reindeer could sniff it. “I brought you a blanket to lay on.” He laid it out as best he could, wondering if she’d get up and move over to it or what. He’d never done this before.
The reindeer turned and looked at Mom, asking him,Who is she?
“That’s my mom, Mitzi. She’s kind of nervous. I told her you wouldn’t hurt us, though.” He turned to face Mom. “It’s one of Santa’s reindeer. I found her in the woods with a sleigh. She’s hurt.” He pointed to her leg. “It looks worse now. I shouldn’t have let her fly on it, but she’s too big to fit on my sleigh.”
“Fly?” Mom asked.
Billy nodded.
Mom pressed her lips together, which meant a lecture was coming. Billy sagged. He’d listen and say he was sorry, whatever he had to do so they could help the reindeer faster.
Mom thought for a minute before turning to the reindeer. Billy let out the breath he’d been holding. Mom approached slowly. “Can I look at it?” she asked the reindeer.
She blinked a yes.
Billy watched in wonder as Mom’s hands moved over the leg. When it got to the spot where the leather had wrapped tight, the reindeer sucked in quickly.
Mom yanked her hands back. “Sorry. I know it’s tender, but I need to check for a break.”
“How do you know what to do?” Billy asked.
Mom smiled, a real one with teeth and everything. “I lived on a farm, remember? We had to know all sorts of things about animals.” Somehow, she looked younger when she talked about going to elementary school in North Dakota. She used to tell him stories all the time about her horse Buttercup, but she hadn’t in a long time. He missed those stories. “Hold her harness for me, would you? I don’t want her thrashing while I probe the bone.”
Billy did as he was told and grabbed one side of the harness, gripping tight. “Hold still now. Mom’s good at fixing things. I had a cut once, right here.” He pointed to his head. “She used glue to put it back together, and you can’t even see a scar because my hair covers it.” Talking kept the reindeer’s gaze on him and not on what Mom was doing.
Mom finished her exam and rocked back on her heels before sitting crisscross on the dirty floor. “I’m afraid you’ve fractured your leg. Down here, near the ankle. But the ankle is fine—which is good.”
The reindeer laid her head down as if the news was devastating.
He patted her neck. “We’ll help you get better.”
Mom considered the two of them, like she was looking to see how a puzzle piece fit in a certain spot. “We’ll have to brace it, and she won’t be able to walk for at least three weeks. Maybe it would be better if we called animal control and let them take care of her.”
Billy wrapped his arms around the animal’s neck. “No. I found her. I promised I’d help. Besides, she can fly. We can’t let someone else take her. They’ll sell her to the circus or something. She has to get back to Santa.” He started to cry. He just couldn’t hold it all in—there were so many sad things.
Mom reached for him, and he fell into her arms for a rocking hug. “Okay. Okay.” She stroked his hair, and his frantic feelings of loss abated. “I’ll make you a deal. We’ll do what we can. If she doesn’t show improvement in a week, we’ll find someone who can do more for her, okay?”
“Sure.” A week was for-ev-er. He sniffed. She’d get better. And he’d make sure she ate, and he’d clean up the stall. He glanced at the blanket, hoping she knew better than to poop on it.
“What are you going to call her?” Mom asked.
He shrugged. “She has a name, but she won’t tell me.”
Mom moved so she could see the reindeer’s face. She reached out and traced the star on her forehead. “Star?” she asked. “Wait.” She moved her fingers over two smaller lines. “It almost looks like a snowflake.”
The reindeer’s eyes widened, and she nodded her head quickly. Mom laughed at her antics, the sound better than bells on Christmas. Billy’s heart swelled. It worked. Already, Santa’s reindeer was making Mom happy again. The magical reindeer could fix them; he just knew it.
“I think we’ll call her Snowflake.” Mom ran her hand down Snowflake’s neck. “I’ll be back in a minute with some first-aid supplies.” She set him off her lap and stood up.
Snowflake nudged his leg.
“And carrots,” he called after Mom. “She likes carrots.”
