Lots has happened in the last few months and I just haven't gotten around to writing. So upon the rather adamant insistence of my girlfriend that she have a story to read tomorrow morning, I will write a story in 20 minutes. I'm not even going to apologize for the lack of content, I'll make her do that.
And to boot, it's seasonally appropriate. Have a happy holiday. My sincerest apologies for doing the traditional Christmas story. It was this or be morbid.
And to boot, it's seasonally appropriate. Have a happy holiday. My sincerest apologies for doing the traditional Christmas story. It was this or be morbid.
It was Christmastime again. The lights up and down the little suburban neighborhood twinkled and flashed in a dizzying array of reds and greens. The plastic Santa lawn ornaments glowed, rocking back and forth in the lingering light of evening. Their tinny prerecorded "Ho, ho, ho"s faded into the hum of traffic rushing to and from the mall. Lights were strewn all about, declaring to the oncoming night that, again this year, the longest nights of the year would certainly not be the darkest. In some of the more tasteful displays, reindeer made entirely of tiny white lights dipped their heads to graze upon red ornaments placed with engineering precision. They were still, unstartled by their flashing surroundings.
Up the street, and away from the curb, seeming out of place in the hubbub of glittering lights, a single naivety scene injected an all but forgotten remnant of religion to the holiday. The gesture was subdued, as though Joseph and Mary wanted to keep their tiny miracle solely between them, lit by a single flickering candle. Onlookers could easily be more interested next door, in the group of glowing carollers bundled against the plastic snow who repeatedly reminded anyone listening that Santa Claus was coming to town. It was not a message that was easily lost among the preponderance of Santa hats, Santa cards, and all number of impersonators cropping up at malls. In fact, by all accounts, Santa Claus had already come into town and had been there for months, since Hallowe'en.
At the mall, people were bustling. Crowding their way into stores promising low, low prices on the best gifts of the season, shoppers grabbed, pulled, queued, and charged. Shelves of boxes and toys were picked through. Sweaters and socks were considered and then quickly abandoned for discount MP3 players and the newest DVDs. While cash registers beeped and the line for the ATM grew longer, everyone counted the last days of Advent, as the "last shopping days before Christmas." Christmas had gained a reputation as a season of giving, but commercials and retailers were stressing the rather oxymoronic concept of "giving to yourself".
In the corner of the mall, a boy, no older than twelve, had waited in line as the shelves were restocked with the must-have toy of the year: a webslinging, live-action Spiderman figurine. Now, clutching his much anticipated prize, he wove his way to the register. Twenty minutes in line later, the perky girl at the checkout counter in the tinsel red-and-white hat congratulated him on getting one of the last ones. "You're going to have such a good time with this one," she beamed. He smiled back, certain she was right, handing over the wad of dollar bills he'd been saving for months, just for this. It came out to just the right amount, with but a few pennies change. Perfect.
(OK, now you, reader: if you like your breakfast cold and your steak rare, read ending A. If you prefer your breakfast warm and your meat well done, skip to ending B, below.)
A:
As he walked out the store, visions of Spiderman swinging from rooftop to rooftop filled his head. He was already mentally building a set in his room; his sister's Barbie filling in perfectly for the role of Mary-Jane, in perpetual need of rescuing. "Help, help!" she was crying as DocOc waved his ultra-titanium mechanical appendages threatening to blow up the mayor's office. Just as he was heading to the corner where he'd promised to meet his mom, he passed by one of those collection bins for toys for disadvantaged inner-city children. It was half-empty, in a dark corner of the mall, busy shoppers could hardly spare it a glance, much less a thought. Suddenly, this pre-teenage boy was stopped short. He remembered his mother, describing the dangerous and harsh living conditions in the inner city, admonishing him never to go there alone. He imagined a small boy, his age, getting not a thing this Christmas season, thankful to have a least roof and a cramped bed to share. What would Spiderman do? How would his hero solve this situation?
It was decided then and there. He dug into his pocket and spying a nearby girl collecting for the Salvation Army, handed her his last four pennies. "Merry Christmas, Miss" he said, politely. "Thank you, and Merry Christmas" she smiled at him. He was already gone; his mind again on the plight of Mary-Jane and Spidey. He knew that he'd earned such a great new toy for being so generous. I love giving, he thought, after all, it's Christmastime again.
B:
As he walked out the store, visions of Spiderman swinging from rooftop to rooftop filled his head. He was already mentally building a set in his room; his sister's Barbie filling in perfectly for the role of Mary-Jane, in perpetual need of rescuing. "Help, help!" she was crying as DocOc waved his ultra-titanium mechanical appendages threatening to blow up the mayor's office. Just as he was heading to the corner where he'd promised to meet his mom, he passed by one of those collection bins for toys for disadvantaged inner-city children. It was half-empty, in a dark corner of the mall, busy shoppers could hardly spare it a glance, much less a thought. Suddenly, this pre-teenage boy was stopped short. He remembered his mother, describing the dangerous and harsh living conditions in the inner city, admonishing him never to go there alone. He imagined a small boy, his age, getting not a thing this Christmas season, thankful to have a least roof and a cramped bed to share. What would Spiderman do? How would his hero solve this situation?
It was decided then and there. From the bag, he pulled his brand new, hard won figurine. It's die-cast suit reflected the twinkling mall lights. Casting it a long last glace, he gingerly lowered into the bin, resting it gently on an extra large teddy bear. "Make him happy, 'kay, Spidey?" he whispered as he let go. Without turning back, he rushed to meet his mom.
A single bell-ringing girl in a Santa suit followed him with her eyes as stood by her nearby collection basket. She smiled, thankful for these little magical moments. "It's Christmastime again."
OK, that was more like an hour. I must admit, I robbed the idea of split endings from a book I read a long time ago. I wrote ending A first. The twist, where the reader expects him to give the toy but he doesn't appealed so strongly to me, but not even I could be that cynical on Christmas Day, so I put the classic ending.
I hope you enjoyed.
-- C.