Dec. 25: Notes from the sleigh

 ...somewhere in new york city, two goth girls decide they're going to have an anti-christmas.

one calls herself death head. the other calls herself no mercy. as christmas eve bleeds into christmas day, the two are walking down a street in manhattan, buzzing on marijuana. the two will spend christmas day in death head's bedroom. her mom will be out with her new boyfriend. her dad is dead. they will listen to the cure and marilyn manson and talk about how much they hate school, their families, the government, society, organized religion, basically everything except each other.

around two in the afternoon, they will light another joint and laugh at some cruel joke. no mercy, whose real name is karen van estabrook, will suddenly remember a christmas memory from before the accident that took both her parents. dad had made her a dollhouse. he'd worked secretly in his warehouse for months, and little karen was delighted with her gift.

i wonder where the dollhouse is right now, she wonders, and then death head says something and karen, who now goes by no mercy, is, once again, instantly whisked from the innocence of childhood and placed back in the here and now.

-

he hears them singing. four men. cold night so they're standing around the barrel fire. angels we have heard on high. doing an amazing four-part harmony on that chorus. gloria in excelsis deo. he knows what that means. glory to god in the highest. he ain't feeling god tonight. all alone on christmas. 

he stays in the shadows, hoping the men won't notice. but one of them does.

"leroy. come over here for a second."

he skulks over. says nothing.

"you doing anything for christmas?"

shakes his head

"hungry?"

he nods

man reaches into his parka pocket, pulls out a ten dollar bill.

"you go eat."

and off goes leroy to fill his stomach. his heart has been filled.

-

somewhere in texas, a young lady named janice is having the worst christmas of her life

janice is 19, home from her first year in university, and it opened up a whole new world for her. born and raised with the values of the bible belt, this first year away has shown her what she's been missing in the baptist church

football is on tv and dad and her brothers and uncles are gathered around it to watch. in the kitchen, mom and grandma and aunt brenda are busy making the christmas meal. janice is fuming. it's not right that the ladies have to work while the men relax.

fuming janice marches into the kitchen to share her point of view. she is, perhaps, fifteen seconds in when grandma grabs her elbow and leads her sharply out of the room. into the guest room down the hall where grandma has laid her stuff, she lays into her clueless granddaughter, tells her that the women love to prepare the christmas meal, that it is an act of love, that they enjoy the opportunity to get caught up. 

janice can watch football if she so desires

-

she says she won't drink this christmas

it's been 103 days since she took her last drink. she remembers the day well. she didn't just got drunk. she got blotto. an all night bender that ended with her in a toilet stall at mcdonalds, trunk texting her married boss about what she wanted to do to him. that ended three years of gainful employment.

her family all drinks. even worse, her family makes her want to drink. her mom is a lush, her dad a racist prick, her brother a lazy know-it-all who plays video games all day while yelling at his wife. 

when she's not drunk, she can cope with life. when she's not drunk, she can hold down a job, a relationship, an apartment. the alcohol is a demon. she knows that. the people at aa are good to her.

the bottle of vodka is heavy in her bag. when she's a block away from her parents' house, she whips it out, twists off the top, and empties it into the snow

a church across the street has a marquee. FREE CHRISTMAS DINNER TODAY

she has a decision to make

-

lucas was up at four in the morning. the tirade started only three minutes later

"I HATE SANTA!" the six-year-old screams.

mom and dad are up, pulling bathrobes shut around themselves. lucas is screaming in the living room. he has opened all the presents, not just the ones intended for him, and is breaking everything

"lucas, calm down," dad orders. "why did you do this?"

"BECAUSE SANTA DIDN'T BRING ME ENOUGH PRESENTS!!!"

mom and dad look at each other, stunned. lucas was their problem child. the school psychologist had told them that he was going to have issues but dad is thinking that it's well beyond that. he suspects his son might be a psychopath.

now lucas picks up the Barbie dollhouse - the one they bought for suzy - and throws it against the fireplace. It shatters in an explosion of pink plastic and white furniture. the stockings have already been ripped from the wall, their contents strewn everywhere. 

lucas is yelling about how santa didn't bring him the gaming console he wanted. he also conveniently forgot the seven video games, the action figures, and the deadpool set. 

and somewhere in there, mom reaches out and smacks him across the face

the room is deadly silent. mom has never struck any of her kids before.

there is a stunned tableau. then, very quietly, mom whispers: "you pick everything up and go to your room or i will take all of your presents and throw them in the fire."

-

"yo, santa."

"what, blitzen?"

"you seem to be jonesing on the naughty list tonight. what gives?"

"musta got my wires crossed."

"we do this every year," blitzen says. "seems like people want an awful lot from you this time of year. i guess it stands to reason you see a lot of bad shit go down."

"it comes with the territory."

"let me ask you a question, santa, just between you and a reindeer's ass. do you think human nature is good or bad?"

"i try to see the good in people."

"good on ya," blitzen says. "maybe that's why you're santa claus."