A CHRISTMAS STORY (PART 2)

Armed with a flashlight, some chips if he gets hungry, a mug of hot chocolate to keep him warm, and a pair of binoculars, Alfy waited. He sat guard near the window and stared into the night. It was too dark to really keep an eye out, and the flashlight was barely any help, but he did his best. If nothing, he was sure he would spot Rudolph, the reindeer with his bright red nose.

‘If there ever was a Rudolph!’ he fumed.

As he looked out the window on this silent night, he couldn’t help but marvel at his little town. For a moment, he forgot all his skepticism and smiled at the beauty of this season. Each house was grandly lit up for Christmas. Mr. Jonathan, his neighbour, had the best house in the entire block. His house gleamed red green and golden. A snowman was built right outside his house. The Christmas tree had musical lights on, so the entire street echoed of Christmas carols and the snowman seemed to say ‘Oh come all ye faithful’. Tiffany had helped old Mr. Jonathan set up his house for Christmas. He didn’t have any children so he was happy to have the company of a child who was just as excited as him for the celebration. And it was safe to say that they had done a splendid job! Everything about that sight emanated love and happiness.

Lost in the beauty of his town, Alfy was almost considering abandoning his mission when he heard a sudden sound that pierced through the silence. He quickly grabbed his binoculars and looked out into the sky, but he saw nothing there. Nothing suspicious.
*Creak* 
There! That sound again!

It sounded strangely familiar. That’s when it struck him, it was coming from inside the house! He got up, rushed to the door and opened it just a tad. He made sure he was quiet enough and no one heard him. The lights were all off and it was really dark, but he’d recognise his mother from even a mile away.  *Creak* went the floorboard again as she tiptoed down the stairway. She switched on the lights and walked towards the Christmas tree. Her hair was unkempt and eyes puffy, like she had just woken up from a deep slumber. She replaced a Christmas tree ornament that had fallen down on the floor and tilted her head to check if she had set it right again.
‘At this hour of the night, woman!’, Alfy rolled his eyes.

Then he noticed something he hadn’t before. His mom seemed to be hiding something under her robe. His suspicion proved right when she retrieved a gift-wrapped box from inside the robe, it had a green bow on it. She then walked towards the couch and bent down and produced another gift-wrapped box from under there. This one had a red bow on it. She placed both these boxes under the Christmas tree and rearranged them multiple times to make sure it looked its most picturesque version. She then went to the dinner table, ate half a cookie, munched some carrots and gulped down the glass of milk. She sat down, leaned back and closed her eyes. Alfy could see she wasn’t sleeping. She was resting, just for a little while.
She got up after a few minutes, yawned and looked around to ensure she hadn’t left any evidence. She then tiredly carried herself back up the stairs, and Alfy closed his bedroom door, lest mom spot him.

He retreated to his bed, got into his blanket and simply stared at the ceiling. Mom had once told him that girls can do everything boys can. He had sniggered and never really believed her. Until now, that is. Girls could even be Santas, he realised. Or was it just mothers?

So what if Santa wasn’t the big-bellied, white-haired man he had imagined him to be? He was still real. In fact, the Santa he had was even better than the one he had read about in books, and heard about in stories. For his Santa fulfilled wishes all through the year, and didn’t wait for that one time of the year. His Santa didn’t stay away at North Pole, she was in the room next to him, and always there for him when he needed her after a bad day. He never had to write a letter, because this Santa always knew what he wanted before he knew it himself.

He switched off the flashlight that was still glowing by the window, and shut the drapes. He had something very important to do tomorrow morning, something that should have been done sooner. With that thought in mind, he finally did fall asleep.

Tiffany was the first to wake up the next morning, and she made sure she woke everyone up with her joyful squeals. She then ran downstairs towards the tree while Alfy ran to the next room. He wrapped his mother in a tight hug. She was taken aback and pressed her cheek against his, just like she used to when he was a little boy.

“Thank you, mom”, Alfy smiled.
He gave her a quick peck and ran downstairs to the tree.

Did he tell his mother he had seen her the previous night? No, he didn’t.
Did he know he was getting a hoverboard for Christmas? No he didn’t.
Did he still believe in Santa? Yes, he did.

A Christmas Story (Part 1)

The fireplace glowed golden with the embers, candles lit the hallway at every step. A Christmas tree was decked up with tinsel, snowballs, and an angel right at the top. The crib was beautifully laid to depict the nativity scene, baby Jesus rested in his manger with a placid smile on his face. A star hung outside the window, the star of wonder, star of night. Cookies and milk were kept for Santa on the dinner table, and of course carrots for his reindeers. Everything was perfect, right out of the books. Everything, and everyone, except Alfred.

Alfy had a shadow of doubt lurking behind his eyes. Like the look grandma has on her face when she suspects grandpa has had a little too much cholesterol for the day. Like the look mom has on her face when she knows he has had cookies before dinner. He wondered how Santa climbs down the chimney if the fire is kept going all night; how the reindeers never make a single sound when they tiptoe in their frontyard with all the gifts, not a single scurry or sneeze in all these years.

Alfy had his nose up in the air, as if trying to sniff out what smelled so fishy. Tiffany, on the other hand, was all smiles. She checked if her stocking was hanging right (for the millionth time) and went to the couch with a toothy grin on her face, which was a recurring theme around Christmas season.

Alfy and Tiffany were only three years apart, and acted like they couldn’t care less for each other. However, when push came to shove, they doted on each other, and that was no secret. Tiffany had long black curls that dangled in front of her eyes, just like her mother. Alfy was a spitting image of his father. The same deep brown eyes, and ability to misplace everything he touched. They were just searching for the TV remote when mom called.

“Honey, dinner’s ready!”
“But mom, I’m not hungry.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have had those cookies then.”
“Tattletale!” Alfy glared at Tiffany.

Every night the Joseph family had dinner together. Sometimes they argued whether or not it was absolutely necessary to eat all the green peas, and sometimes they secretly wished they could move over to the couch and watch TV instead. Nevertheless, they always had dinner together, no matter what.
‘Amen’, they chorused after they had said their grace dutifully.

Tiffany nibbled on several things and never finished any of the items on her dinner plate. Alfy had that look growing children have on their faces like it’s so inconvenient that they are being forced to nourish themselves with food. After multiple redundant instructions, they managed to finish most of their dinner and rushed back to watch TV. Tiffany wasn’t keen on staying up late tonight though. Because the sooner she went to sleep, sooner would Santa arrive with her gifts.
At nine PM, the lights were switched off and they were both sent to bed. Tiffany kissed her parents good night and pranced to her room. This girl was the happiest around Christmas.

Alfy let out a big yawn and promptly announced that he was suddenly very tired and would probably immediately fall asleep. He carried himself to his room and shut the door. Little did they know, sleep was the last thing on his mind tonight!
Alfred Joseph was determined to find out the truth about Santa this Christmas.

Who was this big-bellied man? How did he travel all the way from North Pole? How could his reindeers fly?
He sat with his flashlight near the window, and waited. He waited for Santa Claus to come to town.

Places I'd never been.

There was an omnipresent chill all around. I shoved my hands inside my pockets, looked down, and kept walking. Tucked my hair behind my ears as the wind kept brushing it. I went to the playground first. I sat on the swings and stared into space. No laughs, no giggles, just pure acknowledgement of this place and my presence there. I stood up, kicked some sand, and got walking again. A dog howled in the distance. Television sounds drifted through the streets.

The cafe was open. Not crowded, yet had a steady flow of customers. I took my usual place- the booth beside the window. Chicken salad. The waitress came back with my order. I noticed they had changed the plates. There used to be sunflowers on the China, now there were lillies. Well...
I paid for my food and got a coffee to-go.

Next was church. I went to the bench on the fourth row and kneeled. I had nothing to pray for, so I just be. No matter what I've said, this place did offer peace. The burning candles under the crucifix made the metal shine. I made the sign of the cross and got up. My footsteps echoed across the hall as I closed the door with a thud.
The streets were getting calmer now. I pulled up my hoodie. Also, colder. There was one last place I needed to go before heading back home. The bus stop.

He had always insisted on taking the bus. It had something to do with the government using our taxes for public transport/climate change. I'm not sure which one it was, or maybe both? I never really paid much attention. He would go on with his banter, and I would grumble about why we can't take the car like normal people do. I wish I had listened more. Bus 321 arrived. The door opened. Closed. I stood up, walked, kept walking, and didn't look back.
I rustled the keys out of my pocket and opened the door. The warmth of the house embraced me like it knew I needed a hug. Somehow, this house felt more acceptable now.
It had been exactly a month since Pa died.

A month of denial where I shut myself inside the house, refusing to accept his absence. Not today, though. Today I had been to all those places where we used to go together. Kathy had offered to come with me, she had told me I didn't need to do this alone. But I did. I needed to accept that I was alone. And that it is okay to be alone. Sure it felt a little cold, and a little hollow. But the streets had not changed, the places were still the same. Only my world had changed. And I needed to learn how to live in it.

When Pa taught me how to ride a bicycle, he had let go without telling me, and it was only when I turned to look back that I realised I was doing it all by myself. This was something like that (Well played, Pa).
Today I had looked back on all those things that had memories attached to them, and though I hadn't really aced it, I now had hope that I could possibly do it this time too. All by myself. Sure I would fall a couple times, but I would get back up. And then I'd treat myself to an ice-cream, bruised knees et al. Because diabetes doesn't hurt as much as a bruised knee! Did I just make a dad joke? Well, it's like he never left!
Goodbye, Pa. Until next time.