The Runaway Snowman

By Bilgin Anadolu

On a cold winter’s night amongst the many snowflakes that fell, one special Snowflake carry a gift of life, fell gently down from the sky, landing on the shoulder of a snowman and passing through its precious possession.
It is for the Snowman to choose how to use this gift and who to share it with.
The Snowman is faced with a choice, to accept his fate by staying on his spot or run away and see where his new life, takes him.

He inspires a Scarecrow, a garden Gnome and a Puppet to also join him to escape and to seek the dreams they each yearn for.

The journey they all embark on takes the reader with them, on an adventure, thwart with danger, into a world they don’t know, but through it all can they all really find what they are looking for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Nov 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781984592347

Bilgin Anadolu

Bilgin Anadolu, has put together this beautifully crafted first book, with characters that would be loved for a long very time. Supported by his beautiful wife Geraldine and his three children he thanks them for being so patient to see his first book published.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

In the glare of the moonlight, as Tommy slept peacefully upstairs in his warm, cosy bedroom, a very curious thing was happening outside his house.

A strange face appeared through the gaps in the fence of Tommy’s front garden.

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No sooner had the face appeared than there was the sound of creaking and cracking, then a segment of the wooden fence came flying away only to be followed by a second and a third wooden panel. It appeared that the strange face in the shadows of the dark night was pushing itself through the fencing and making its way into the garden. Needless to say, Tommy’s father would not be too pleased to see his nice row of fencing destroyed.

When it was thought that the entrance was now wide enough, the strange, snow-covered face squeezed between the panels as they bent and snapped panel after panel. First the head and then the shoulders and then gradually, with an enormous effort, a large bottom attached to two giant white legs squeezed through.

Now if anyone had seen with their own eyes what came through that fence, they would never have believed it.

It was so absurd, fantastic, and incredible, yet perfectly true and very real; for there stood a large moving, walking, and by all accounts, living snowman.

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Astonishing as it may be, this was what was happening in the darkness of the night as the small snowflakes came down and around the snowman, which was standing there and looking perplexed as to what to do next. Around his neck was a scarlet scarf, and in the middle of his face, there was a long, fat orange carrot. On his crown was a battered old brown trilby hat. If this was not comical enough, running down the middle of the snowman’s chest and belly were three small token coal pieces that resembled buttons even though our friend here had no coat or jacket to speak of.

Even though this was the most unusual sight ever and was very uncommon behaviour to say the least, there must have been some reason this snowman felt he had to crash his way into the neighbouring garden. This did not seem to be the common behaviour of snowmen. It was always a fact that when a snowman was made, it would remain static, pinned to the spot and stationery.

Our friend here looked bewildered at his own capabilities as he glanced over to the left then his right and backwards to see if he had alerted anyone. Looking quite desperate and frightened, the snowman caught sight of a yellow light suddenly coming on from the glass in the door of the house. What with all the crashing noise, he had drawn attention from the houseowner, Tommy’s father. What to do? Oh, what to do? thought the snowman.

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To run, and run fast at that, was the snowman’s immediate thought that ran through his soft, snow-filled head.

‘Blasted foxes!’ muttered Tommy’s father as the door began to open.

The snowman began to flee as fast as he could in a blind panic to get away before anyone could catch a glimpse of him.

The door had opened fully, and there on the doorstep stood Tommy’s father with a broomstick in his hand.

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My lord, what has happened here? he thought, scratching his head in disbelief as he looked across the garden at the broken panels lying scattered everywhere in the snow. Shocked and angry, he could not think of who to blame but foxes as he has had dealings with them before in the past when they kept routing ’round the rubbish bins. But never quite like this.

The snow started to fall heavier as the snowman slid away down the road as fast as he could.

You must be intrigued to know more about our snowman and his purpose for trying to do what would appear to be an escape. I can hear you thinking to yourself, Why would a snowman want to escape? And from whom!

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Well, this is where the story really begins, and I am pretty sure we will get all the answers to our question if we stay on the snowman’s trail. Let’s stick with our snowman and see where all this will lead.

It must have been well past midnight when all this commotion was going on in the little village of Ambleside.

The snowman went slipping and sliding down and around the road for a good while till he finally stopped himself by clutching a lamp post to stop himself, then he scrambled across a field to get away from any glare coming from the street lamps.

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Resting back against a large oak tree, the snowman glanced back in exhaustion to see if he had been pursued by anyone. With his big cold eyes, he scanned across the field to see if anyone had followed him; when he saw no one, he let out a big sigh of relief as he was relieved that he had not been detected. He leant back against the large tree and closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath in, and as he started to exhale, a voice came from the darkness not too far from him.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ said a voice from the dark, which quite startled our snowman.

There was a moment’s silence, and then came the stern voice again.

‘You, I’m talking to you. What do you think you are playing at?’ the voice repeated, still demanding an answer to his original question.

For a moment, there was total silence, then came the voice from the field again in an even more disapproving torrent.

‘Running around the field in the middle of the night. It’s not right, and it certainly is not allowed. You know we are not supposed to move from your spot. Them’s the rules, them’s the rules,’ muttered the grumpy voice.

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The snowman looked puzzled and concerned about where this voice was coming from and the fact that it was quite close to him in the darkness. Not only had something spotted him but it also somehow seemed to know the ways of a snowman. He plucked up enough courage to answer back in the vague direction he believed the sound had been coming from.

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‘Who … who’s there?’ he asked awkwardly.

‘I’m there.’ The answer came back.

‘Where?’ the confused snowman probed.

‘Here, that’s where. Look over here,’ commanded the voice.

Trying to follow the voice back to the source, the snowman stretched his head out and concentrated very hard. Then to his big surprise, he saw, standing not far from him, the owner of the sound. It was a podgy little, small snowman. He wore a checked cap, with a fat potato for a nose, and was looking angrily at him.

‘But you are a snowman too,’ said our snowman, very surprised.

‘Well, what did you think I was, standing here in this field—a blinking fence post or something?’ returned the grumpy snowman.

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‘I … I didn’t really know what to expect, to tell the truth. You kind of startled me,’ he replied.

‘I startled you. Well, I like that! Here I was about to get comfortable for the night and to nod off, not expecting to be disturbed on a beautiful night like this when you come stomping over. I hope you haven’t come here to steal my spot,’ carried on the podgy snowman.

‘No, I don’t want your spot—in fact, I don’t want any spot,’ the first snowman replied, quite annoyed of being accused of something he had no intention of doing.

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‘Oh, but you must have a spot. We all got one. Everyone knows snowmen have a spot. That’s where we’re made, and that’s where we stay.’ The podgy snowman pointed out the facts to the first snowman.

A defiant reply followed. ‘Well, I had a spot. Now I don’t, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.’

At hearing this, the podgy snowman stretched out his arm and pointed a fat little finger straight at the other snowman and said in a very suspicious voice, ‘Well, well, well, a runaway.’

‘A what?’ came back the snowman with a puzzled look on his face.

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‘You’re a runaway, aren’t you? Admit it. You’ve abandoned your spot. Go on, tell the truth. You have, haven’t you? Haven’t you?’ blasted the podgy one.

‘No, I am not a runaway. Well, yes I am, I suppose, but it’s not what you think. It’s just not like that, I’m a—’

But before he could finish explaining himself, the podgy snowman interrupted him again.

‘Look, matey, the best thing you can do is to head back where you came from before anyone notices you’ve gone and starts asking questions, if you know what I mean.’ Winking one eye, the podgy snowman touched his fat potato nose with his finger.

‘And if you don’t go back, then I am going to have to report you to Snowflake,’ he continued.

‘Snowflake, and who is Snowflake?’ said a puzzled snowman. Then he continued. ‘Oh, I don’t even care who they are. I am not going back to that spot or any other spot,’ he said defiantly, and he turned around and began to flee as fast as he could from this annoying podgy snowman that was well-rooted to his spot. As he ran, he could hear shouting behind him.

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‘I’m telling, you know. I’m telling on you!’ cried out the podgy snowman and then finished off by muttering something in a disapproving manner about giving snowmen a bad name and how they will never be trusted to stay in one place again.

By this time, the carrot-nosed snowman was far away, running into the night across the snow-covered fields.

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The snowfall did not let up for a moment as it came down, and at times, it even came down heavier and heavier during the night. As the snow fell down, so the snowman ran as fast as his long legs would allow and in the direction of the carrot in the middle of his face. Across the snow-covered fields, he ran, completely disoriented, not knowing which way to head. He scrambled in one direction then another, crossing the field in desperation to find some kind of cover where the podgy snowmen or anyone else could no longer be seen or heard to report him to this Snowflake or any