Santa vs Nathan round 2

Twas the night before Christmas and Santa clause did lurk, he was trying to stay hidden from Nathan, the Jerk.

            Nathan and Santa clause had a long and bitter feud and every year Santa would have to sneak into Nathan’s house to leave coal for Nathan and a gift for Nathan’s wife, who wasn’t a jerk, to Santa anyway.

            It was almost midnight and Nathan was awake sharpening a hatchet. While everyone else in the house slept, Nathan sat silently in a high-back chair next to a plate of milk and cookies. As the clock struck midnight a rustle on the roof was heard, or a clatter, if you prefer. Up on the roof arose such a clatter while Nathan sat in his chair, mad as a hatter.

           

            Nathan controlled his breath as he heard footsteps in the living room, slowly walking toward the Christmas tree. “Surprise fat guy!” Shouted Nathan as he drove his hatchet down onto the intruder. The hatchet sunk into the chest of the intruder, who wasn’t Santa clause, but an actual intruder who broke in through the window. The burglar gurgled blood as he breathed out his last words “Tell my kids, I never loved them” He muttered as he died in Nathan’s arms. Nathan wiped away one single tear from the corner of his eye and gently lowered the crook onto the floor, then opened his half broken window and heaved the dead body from his first floor window into the flower bed below. “I’ll get to that later” Nathan muttered. Then he heard more footsteps but this time they were right behind him. Nathan turned to see a red gloved hand fly right for Nathan’s face. Nathan took a sucker punch to the nose and stumbled back. He was slightly stunned from the punch and when he looked up, Santa was gone and the presents were under the tree. Also the cookies were eaten, the milk was gone and Nathan’s stocking was full of dog poop. Nathan cursed under his breath and dashed for the window.

            He scaled the side of his own house till he reached the roof and saw Santa ready to take off on his sleigh. Nathan charged at the reindeer like a madman, which frightened the poor animals. The Reindeer couldn’t talk but they could fly, and all began to run and take off into flight without Santa giving the word to go. The sleigh was jerked forward and Santa was almost thrown off the roof. The Sleigh bells jingled and the reindeer raced into the night. Santa was glad that he didn’t have to visit that house for another year.

            Just as Santa’s sleigh was about to go into warp speed, or whatever magic his sled had, Nathan popped up from the under carriage and jumped onto the seat next to Santa. Santa’s arm went up out of a defensive reflex and it pulled on the reins making the reindeer veer off course. The sleigh began to pick up speed as it flew gradually more out of control. The bottom of the sleigh even took out the top of someone’s chimney. So you KNOW it was craaazy.

            Nathan swung his hatchet like a maniac trying to finally end the immortal fat man. Santa punched Nathan in the stomach and tried to dump the hatch man over the side of the sleigh. Nathan doubled over in pain but managed to grab Santa’s jacket. The two men rolled out of the sleigh. If it wasn’t for the low hanging jingle bells Santa would have fallen to his death. Snow pelted Santa’s face as he hung onto a green rope covered in golden bells. Nathan the madman clung to Santa’s black as coal boot with one hand and swung his hatchet with the other. Nathan managed to land a hit with the hatchet, chopping santa in the lower back. Santa cried out in pain and dropped from the sleigh. The two men fell. Nathan was surrounded by blizzard winds and winter snow. It had had struck midnight only a few minutes ago and Nathan and Santa were already about to die.

            Nathan woke up in the snow in the middle of nowhere with a note pinned to his chest. “You are lucky my reindeer saved you. They feel bad for you. This saint, isn’t as easy to forgive. Try again next year. Clause OUT!” The note was written in red ink with festive Christmas lettering. Nathan lost his hatchet and would have to spend the night walking home. For Nathan a shot at the fat man was worth almost dying from a fall, freezing to death and walking home in the snow all night.

            Merry Christmas everyone and remember, if you hear rustling on the roof or in your living room, it might be burglars.

Christmas Landscape

It was three weeks before Christmas and I was in bed, I stared up at the ceiling but was watching the scenery in my head.

            It was night, the stars in the sky shined brightly from space, twinkling for the world to see. The ground was covered in freshly fallen snow, it was light but wet enough to make a small crunching squeak under you foot with each step. Beneath the snow was grass that still had some green color to it. A stone path cut a winding shape through the field of grass. I walked across the stone path, wearing a winter coat and scarf and every exhaling breath was a visible puff of from my mouth. To my left was a row of tall pine trees, each tree was between seven and eight feet tall. Bright strings of lights and colorful decorations covered the trees. These Christmas trees let off a warm glow which was a pleasant contrast to the cold snowy night of winter.

            I continued walking down the path, the snow was melting away from the stone but was still sticking to the grass. As I was walking I spotted two pumpkins lightly dusted with snow. They were to the right of the path and so close that they were almost touching the stone. The snowy pumpkins sat in the grass and seemed out of place in the otherwise Christmas landscape that had been spread out before me.

I approached the pumpkins, crouched down and gently touched the side of one. The pumpkins had faces carved in them. The eyes and mouth lit up when I touched the first pumpkin. Both pumpkins turned to reveal that they were Jack-O-Lanterns with a light that glowed just as bright and warmly as the Christmas trees. “It is much to late for Jack-O-Lanterns” I said, then paused “Or much too early” I added. The first pumpkin began to move its carved mouth “We are not pumpkins that celebrate Halloween, we are pumpkins that you keep around as regret. You carried us into this Christmas and while others walk right by without notice you always stop and check on us. Halloween is once a year and you worry you don’t appreciate it when it arrives. Just the same that you will not fully appreciate Christmas until it is over. When you are walking alone in January you will find a small tree only a foot tall and covered in Christmas lights. You carry your regret without being asked and insist on doing this even if you were told to stop. We are also the fond memory of the recent Halloween passed. It is not all regret it is also joy. But we are pumpkins in the snow, slowly getting buried until we are forgotten until the snow melts. This is just like your memory of Halloween, a beloved holiday that slowly gets snowed over by the excitement of Christmas and when the snow melts you will be wishing for Halloween all over again.” Spoke the first pumpkin, its words cut me to the core and I muttered “sorry” but didn’t know why.

            I stood up from my crouching position and began to walk further down the path. “Don’t worry we will always be around. You don’t need one day to celebrate the happy memories. Those stay forever” Called the second pumpkin, who seemed more laid back and probably took a lot of naps.

            A tear welled up in the corner of my eye as I walked away. I smiled as I thought of the fun I had in Autumn, no matter how short it was, I enjoyed it. I then looked forward and took in the sights of the Christmas snow and lights.

            My walking pace slowed to a stroll as I thought about the Holidays passed and the ones approaching. A small person in green and white clothes was in the field to the far right. He looked like one of santa’s elves. I didn’t believe in santa but I gave the elf the benefit of being possibly real. “Hello!” I called and waved to the elf. The small person looked up and waved back. I continued walking so as to not risk getting lectured by another Holiday symbol. I didn’t need a Christmas elf that eating junk food and staying up all night playing video games was bad, or that I should be more charitable.

            As I walked I saw a small house in the distance. It was brightly lit up and surrounded by the peaceful scenery of night air, snow and a forest even further back behind the house.

            I continued moving forward and could see more detail in the house. It was a small wooden cottage with wood smoke coming from the chimney, snow on the roof, a string of Christmas lights lined the roof and windows and a porch light that seemed warm and inviting. My slow stroll turned into a brisk walk as I imaged the comforts of the cottage and how nice the warm fire would be after walking in the cold night air for so long. My cheeks started to get read and my toes were cold.

            I finally reached the house, I walked up the two wooden steps that led to a covered porch, I wiped my feet on a decorative bear statue that had bristles on his back. The stone bear with the hard bristles seemed to be there with the purpose of cleaning off shoes. As I walked to the door I was about to knock but felt so comfortable I reached for the knob and walked right it.

            The inside of the cottage was warm and inviting, I smelled mulled apple cider and a crackling fire. Soft music played on a record player near by. The crackling of the fire and the small crackling sound the record player made were just as pleasant as the music being played.

            In the living room was a big fluffy dark green couch with blankets draped over the back. Next to the couch was an arm chair which looked just as comfortable. I sat down in the armchair. As soon as my body rested into the chair I began hearing voices of happy people playing in the house. I saw a black cat sitting on the couch, curled up and sleeping. I smiled and reached over to pet the cat. Before I touched the cat my eyes began to tear up. Tears trickled down my face though I did not know why. I touched the cats soft shiny fur, it looked up at me with its big green eyes and then vanished.

            I heard a female’s voice all to me and without hesitation I responded “Yes, Honey?” I looked around and no one was there. I was confused by the house and even more confused by my own actions. The house seemed so real but everything disappeared when I reached for it.

            I stood up and saw silhouettes of children playing and a reading a book while lounging in a chair. I would blink and they silhouettes would disappear. The smell of fresh pie lingered in the air and I could still smell hints of the mulled cider from when I first arrived. I knew these things weren’t real and decided to leave.

            I left through the front door, walked down the two steps and continued walking down the stone path. I didn’t look back once not even after I walked so long that the house was out of view. I walked down the stone path and came to a split. I took the path to the right and followed it into town.

            I arrived in a modern town, it wasn’t fancy, it didn’t have a warm glow and no one went out of their way to give helpful advice, but at least it was real. I walked to a three floor house, made my way passed the front door and opened an easy to miss side door. The door took me up a winding set of stairs that led to another door, I unlocked the second door and arrived at a small apartment on the third floor. It was quiet, cozy and except for the landlord, no one else knew it existed. 

            I entered into the living room, to my right was a big window that looked out on train tracks and the tops of other peoples houses. Sometimes the train would come rocketing by and I could feel the gentle shake of the building as the force of the giant machine moved quickly down the metal tracks. Having the train close to my apartment was an interesting feeling that I have yet to describe in any way other than “pretty cool”. The muffled sound of the train and the gentle rocking was a great feeling. I could close my eyes and it felt like I was on the train, gently rocking side to side as I sped toward another land.

            I locked the door to my apartment and laid down on the floor. I made a kiss noise in the air and two cats came out from hiding and started to purr immediately. The cats rubbed their faces on my face and hands, welcoming me home. I pet the cats for a minute then slowly stood up. The lazy cats plopped over onto their sides like sacks of potatoes when I stood.

            I crossed the room to a small stand. On the stand was a two foot tall plastic Christmas tree. I clicked a button on the bottom of the trees plastic stand and the branches of the tree began to light up. I turned the lights off, took my shoes off and crawled into bed. I pulled the blankets over my head and nestled into bed. My cats jumped on me and sprawled out, draping their bodies across the bed and over my legs. The fake Christmas tree gave off a soft colorful light in the dark room, my cats purred themselves to sleep and in the distance I heard the muffled sound of the train.

Holiday Contemplation

Snow drifted gentle from the sky as the wood in my hearth crackled and burned. I sat in front of the warming glow of the fire and watched the flames flicker and dance. It was night, the first snow of December had settled on the town.

            In the distance I could hear small bells ringing and people singing festive songs. The winter festival had arrived in this little village and everyone gathered in the middle of town to celebrate. The town would celebrate in song and dance for seven days and on the final day, when the clock struck midnight, everyone would exchange gifts and wish each other cheer. It was a fine tradition, celebrating the end of the year and giving the village something to celebrate during the winter.

            While others liked going out into the cold and singing, I preferred to stay warm in my home. I don’t mind the singing, but I don’t understand the need to be outside in the snow, or the need for those bells. Villagers carried small bells on a stick and rang them and cheered.

            I remember Hazel used to like the winter celebrations. She would sing and dance with the rest of the village. While I always assumed I lived in a village of idiots, I knew Hazel wasn’t an idiot, yet she enjoyed the festival just as much as anyone. I’ve always felt that there was a piece of myself missing, that I couldn’t enjoy the holidays like the others. I felt as though there was a wall between me and everyone else when it came to these things. During my younger years I tried to join everyone, I did the motions, I sang the songs and tried to be in good cheer. No matter how I tried to join the group I never understood the appeal, I never truly fit into the festivities.

            I gazed into the flickering flame and my memories took over, I no longer saw the fire, I was looking into memories of Winter festivals of the past. I remember being told that I ‘used to’ enjoy the fun, I ‘used to’ be a merry and cheerful fellow. I don’t know if these comments should make me laugh or cry, as the times the villagers spoke of were times that I was trying and failing to fit in. From their comments I can assume I was convincing in my attempts to join the celebration, but I never enjoyed a minute of it, I faked emotion to please the others and they believed it.

            I was always capable of experiencing fun and joy, but others used to say I was cold and unable to have fun because I did not run and jump like an idiot in the cold and snow. I did not enjoy drinking harsh alcohol that burned my mouth and soured my stomach, I did not enjoy women who I do not know climbing all over me after they had consumed too much beer or wine.

            I used to enjoy things with Hazel. She was a lovely person, she could sit with me by the fire, she enjoyed books with me and we had long and interesting conversations. She also enjoyed festivals and dancing like a maniac. She could enjoy so many things and was able to bridge the gap of interests between the village and me.

           

            Hazel was truly too good for this world, she was the only one who could get through my wall and see who I was behind the layer of bricks that I built to keep the world out. She had more power over me than I’d like to admit and when she died I felt my heart break and my mind snap.

            Over the long years I have recovered to some degree, but my heart would never be the same and I drifted further from the rest of the village as their ignorant attempts to help me only made me feel worse. It is almost midnight of the final day and the Winter Festival is almost over. I made a gift for Hazel and put it on a shelf above my hearth. I crafted a heart out of glass in my workshop. The heart was red like the fire in my hearth because the only things that could still warm me was the fire in my hearth and the memory of Hazel’s love.