After my recent success of finishing my novel on time, I also just tied for first place in this month's flash fiction with this little number! Please read, enjoy, and leave your thoughts! I'm always anxious for feedback.
Yuletide Carole
“The night Santa went crazy, the night Kris
Kringle went nuts…” The kids screamed Weird Al from the backseat and Carole
did her best to smile and bop her head along to the music with them.
It
had been a long drive, but Gammy Muriel’s house was finally in sight and soon Carole
would be able to deliver her sweet precious monsters to her parents and break
open a bottle of wine.
The
SUV slid into the immaculately shovelled laneway and Molly and Brad, ages six
and ten, didn’t even wait until the engine shut off before jumping out and
running to the front door.
“Gammy!
Gammy!” they shouted, and barrelled against the welcoming legs of their
grandmother who stood waiting for them in the doorway.
“Look
at you both! You’re huge! Come on inside, there’s cookies and a big glass of
milk waiting for you on the table.”
The
kids whooped and disappeared in the warmth of the house while Carole unloaded
suitcases from the trunk. Muriel stepped around the back to help her, her
sweater wrapped close around her.
“Brr,”
she shivered. “How was the drive?”
“Long,”
Carole sighed and gave her mom a tight hug.
“And
how are you?”
Carole
shrugged and focused once more on unpacking the vehicle, piling backpacks and
tote bags on her arms. Muriel grabbed the remaining Dora the Explorer and
Spiderman suitcases and wheeled them to the front of the house.
“Well
you’re not allowed to be depressed in my home. It’s been a year, it’s Christmas
Eve, and you’re surrounded by people who love you. Think you can crack a smile
for that?” Her mother’s words were harsh, but her eyes belied the lecture.
Carole gave a pathetic attempt at a grin and Muriel rolled her eyes, pushing
her inside.
“Go
eat some cookies.”
That
night around midnight, Carole woke up. She wasn’t sure what had woken her – there
were no children to be seen or heard and she couldn’t remember any bad dreams.
For a moment she lay in the darkness and felt tears trickle out the corners of
her eyes. Every day since Tom left had been hard, but Christmas was proving even
more so.
She
heard a noise from downstairs, the sound of tree ornaments shaking. Is that
what had pulled her out of her sleep? She frowned. It was probably Brad trying
to sneak a peek at his presents. Hopefully he hadn’t corrupted Molly, too.
Carole
pushed the covers off, pulled on her robe and went downstairs to the living
room – to see a man in a red suit dancing with their tree.
“Excuse
me?” she asked, fear struck in her heart. Was he trying to steal it? Some thief
dressed as Santa?
“Huh?”
the man turned around, staggering on unsteady feet. “Who’re you?”
Nope,
just a drunk in the wrong house. “I think you may have gone through the wrong
front door, buddy. This is Muriel and Kevin’s home.”
“Oh!
Muriel, I like Muriel, she makes good cookies. Who’re you?” It was a trifle
difficult to understand him through his slurry words.
“Carole,”
Carole replied, her mouth a thin line. She wanted him to leave before he woke
up the kids.
“Carole,
hi, I’m Dan. Sing with me, Carole. Your sister can sing too, I like twins.” He
grabbed her hand and spun her around in a stumbling waltz. Carole tried to push
him away, but not too hard. Her goal was get him gone, not angry. “Rudorf the lead-nosed reindog,” he sang.
“Tha’s not right, does that sound right to you?”
“Not
exactly,” Carole agreed.
“Wait
– who’re you? This isn’ my house. Oops.” He let go of her and scrubbed at his
fake Santa beard. “You’re a good dancer and pretty.”
“Thank
you,” Carole played along. “Now how about you go home and sleep this off?”
“Yeah,
tha’s a good idea. Nice to meet you, Annie.”
He
shuffled to the front door and out into the snow. Carole watched him leave with
a shake of her head and shut the door behind him.
“I
can’t believe it,” Muriel sputtered over her coffee the next morning. Molly was
entertained by her new plastic ponies and Brad by his army men. Kevin sat
reading yesterday’s paper and Carole sat with her mother at the kitchen table.
“Dan Sutherland, our neighbour. He was playing Santa at the hospital charity
party last night. Apparently he got so drunk he stepped on the fake presents,
tripped on a child, kissed a nurse and walked all the way home from the
hospital. It’s strange, he’s always been so polite – and chairman of the Board
at the hospital!”
A
laugh burst through Carole’s lips – a full, deep refreshing laugh at the
reminder of last night’s visitor.
“Mom?
What’s so funny?” Molly asked. She couldn’t remember seeing her mother laugh
that way before.
“Nothing,
honey,” Carole grinned. She leaned back in her chair and began to sing softly
to herself, “The night Santa went crazy;
the night Kris Kringle went nuts…”
