Tuesday, December 24, 2019

Hope Amidst the Dying of the Light


June 6th, 1944
Omaha Beach, Normandy.

The air burns with fury and fear. Voices rage against the darkness. The sound of the waves crashing is drowned by the desperate endeavors of mankind. Colour drains from the world as life is spilled upon the sand. 

“Grenade! Get down!” Quinn shouts.

Bodies drop to the sand as it explodes ahead of them. When the haze clears, Lance Corporal Quinn and Sergeant Peterson dive into the crater it left behind to evade a barrage of machine gun fire. Peterson peaks over the edge with his rifle and fires until it runs empty. Sand strikes him across the face and he ducks back into the small crater.

“Quinn! I need your help!” Peterson spits into the overwhelming chaos.

There’s no answer. 

“Quinn?”

He looks over at Quinn but it’s no longer him. It’s little more than muddy red and empty eyes. Spilled life. Hope drained.

December 19th, 1944 
Boston, Massachusetts. 

A ten-year-old boy sits in a large armchair, still wearing his pajamas in the late morning. He stares gloomily at a worn letter in his hands. Looming in a dim corner of the living room is a tall grandfather clock, ticking away the seconds. Ticking, ticking, on and on. Minutes slip by relentlessly and the only other sound is the gentle tapping of a branch at the window. 

Then, Father Time makes a fool of him when the grandfather clock chimes one, two, five, eight, twelve times. It’s already noon and he hasn’t played with any of his toys or gone outside at all. Almost as if on queue, there’s a knock at the door. The neighbor, Mrs. Brown, has arrived.

“James! Are you in here, sweetheart?” Mrs. Brown calls out as she enters.

She walks into the living room and James quickly stows the letter in his shirt pocket. As expected, Mrs. Brown reacts unfavorably to his position and attire. 

“Now what are you still doing in your pajamas? You’re a young man! You ought to be outside playing in the trees or causing some sort of mischief. You shouldn’t be sitting in that big old armchair all day.”

James doesn’t respond except to walk politely to his room and begin changing. Mrs. Brown has a sad look on her face as she watches him pass. 

That morning, James’ mother had woken him and sat him down at the table with a plate of eggs and potatoes. He had hardly touched the food. Just before she left for work, his mother told him that he ought to be kind to Mrs. Brown as she would be helping watch him until the end of the Christmas break.

James walks into the kitchen where Mrs. Brown is preparing what she calls, “ee-kah-money loaf.” At least, that’s how James heard it. James doesn’t know what it is and after Mrs. Brown explains what’s in it, he doesn’t think he’ll like it. Despite this, he offers his help in making it and then proceeds to partake of it when it’s finished cooking. He doesn’t like it, but he keeps his distaste to himself and thanks his caretaker. 

Mrs. Brown leaves after they clean up and save the leftovers in the refrigerator. With Mrs. Brown gone, James returns to the big armchair and pulls the letter from his pocket. He unfolds it and reads it. Slowly, his eyes begin to droop and he drifts into a land of dreams. 

He wakes several times to the loud chiming of the grandfather clock. When the clock finally strikes six, however, James quickly folds the letter and puts it back into his pocket. Then, he rushes to the entryway, where he sits and waits. After about thirty minutes, the handle on the door turns. He leaps to his feet and is in his mother’s arms before she can take one step into the house. 

The evening is a blur with both James and his mother feeling conflicted between sadness and contentment. When the time comes for sleep, James’ mother tucks him in and lies next to him for a little while. 

James turns to look at his mother and asks, “Will you read me the story, Mumma?”

He points to the letter, which he had placed on his bedside table. His mother’s face grows deeply sad and her eyes well up. She blinks back the tears and tries to speak, but chokes.

She clears her throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart.”

Then, she picks up the letter and begins reading from it, 

“Once, long ago, in a land overflowing with curious creatures of all sorts, there was a noble knight named Bjorn. He fought for the good King O’Connor and for his family. One day, a neighboring kingdom was overrun with goblins and King O’Connor said to Bjorn, ‘I need your help in these desperate times. Our kinsmen cannot face the goblins alone. We must bring them aid, but I must stay with a portion of our army to protect our homeland in case we should fail. You must lead a legion of our men to put an end to the evil goblins. I am counting on you, Bjorn.’ 

“Bjorn accepted the king’s charge and before he left, he kissed his wife and his children goodbye, in case they never saw him again. Then, he gathered his legion and set off upon horseback. When they arrived, they found an endless sea of goblins swarming over the hilltops. Bjorn grew greatly afraid, as did his men, but they strove ever onward. 

“When they reached the heat of the battle, Bjorn gave a great battle cry and he and all his men rushed into the fray. They slew thousands of goblins, fighting for many days. While some battled, others rested and then they would switch. Those who rested leapt into the fray whilst the others retreated. It continued like this for weeks, until Bjorn’s men dwindled in number. They grew afraid that they would not survive and hope fled from them. 

“Just when all seemed lost, Bjorn had a daring idea. He retreated from the battle in secret and snuck into the darkest depths of the forest where he found and caught a fairy. He pleaded with the fairy to help him, to gather all who would heed it to fight against the goblins that plagued their lands. After long discussion, the fairy agreed to help on one condition. After the battle was won, Bjorn would have to devote the rest of his life and the lives of his family to nurturing the forest and protecting it. He struggled with this because he had pledged fealty to King O’Connor. In the end, he chose the lives of his countrymen over his own honor. 

“Just as the fairy had said, a great army of trees, bears, wolves, dryads and many other creatures came to the aid of men. Bjorn led this new army upon the back of a great brown bear. Together they vanquished the goblin blight once and for all. All men and creatures of the forest rejoiced except for Bjorn, for he had broken his oath of fealty to King O’Connor. When he and the remnants of his legion returned to report to King O’Connor, Bjorn slipped away and hid in the forest with his family to fulfill his oath to the fairies. 

“For a year and a day, King O’Connor sent men to find Bjorn, but they failed every time. Finally, the king decided to search for Bjorn himself. He set off into the forest and when Bjorn found that it was the king himself, he did not slip away from him. He decided, at last, to meet his fate. However, King O’Connor was not full of wrath. Instead, he embraced Bjorn and said, ‘Thank you, oh brave Bjorn. You have saved my kinsmen and, in fact, all the world! There are not enough riches in the world to repay you. So I will do all I can. You are forgiven your oath. I set you free and I name you lord of these mystical forests. Be at peace, brother, and may you live many long years.’

“So it was that Bjorn, greatest knight of all saved the world and became lord of the forest. All his descendants would each become lords in their time and learn to protect and nurture the forest. The End.”

By the end of the story, James has his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Tears slowly leak from beneath his eyelids. He hears his mother sigh as she tucks the blanket around him and leaves the room. The floor creaks as she walks down the hall.

December 20th

The next day is very much like the first. Although, this time, Mrs. Brown brings a Woolton pie and James rather enjoys it. After they finish eating, James doesn’t need to pretend when thanking Mrs. Brown for the food. After she leaves, James decides to play with his toys, so he goes to his room and plays with model trains and toy army men. The rest of his day passes quickly and without noticing, six o’clock passes him by. As soon as the clock strikes a seventh time, James gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Maybe she had to stop somewhere on her way home,” James thought.

He rushes to the door and opens it. There’s nothing but a dark suburb covered in snow. He retreats back into the house and sits on the bench in their entryway. Minutes drudge on like hours and fear plagues his heart. He paces back and forth then sits again, then checks outside again. Nothing. The cycle repeats. 

At eight o’clock, there’s still no sign of James’ mother. His cycle of pacing, sitting and checking outside continues until suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. Heart pounding, he rushes to the door, opens it and nearly leaps through it, but then he stops. He stops as though he just ran straight into a brick wall. Standing in front of him is not his mother, but Mrs. Brown. Her old, pale skin is flushed red, especially around her eyes.

“Where’s my mum?” 

Instead of answering, Mrs. Brown’s face screws up as if she’s about to cry, but she takes a deep breath, swallowing it back. 

“Where’s my mum?” James asks, quieter, heart fluttering. “Why are you sad? Where’s my mum?”

Mrs. Brown starts crying and hugs him. “It’ll be okay, James, dear,” she chokes out. “It’ll be okay, your momma got hurt, b-but she’s gonna be alright, y-you hear?”

His whole world begins to crumble. “What happened? Where is she?”

“Hush now, dear. Here comes Mr. Brown. We’re gonna take you to see her.”

A pair of headlights turns into a car as it pulls up to the curb in front of his house. Before James can wrap his mind around what’s happening, he finds himself in the backseat of the Browns’ car. 

The drive gives fear time to take Jame’s mind to dark places and leech all hope from his spirit. The hole in his heart grows as they get closer and closer to the hospital.

The next thing he knows, the Browns are holding his hands and guiding him into a building that looms over him menacingly. At this moment, it looks less like a place of healing, and more like a place of pain and sorrow. 

“She’s in that room at the end of the hall.” 

A lady is pointing down a long hallway that seems to go on forever. The room looks darker and more terrifying the closer he gets. Two shadows follow beside his own, stretching forward and slowly disappearing over and over. Finally, his shadow is swallowed by the dark room. 

In front of him, like some evil altar, stands a small bed. Lying upon it is a woman with blood-soaked bandages around her head. She has his mother’s face.

“Mumma?”

He puts his hand on her arm and gently squeezes.

“Mumma, wake up.”

She doesn’t so much as stir.

“Mumma, wake up! Mumma!”

He shakes her limp arm. Suddenly there are strong hands gripping his arms and pulling him back. He’s screaming for her. Everything is blurred by a torrent of tears. She remains as motionless as a mountain. 

He finds his head buried in someone’s chest. Eventually, he hears a soft voice trying to comfort and quiet him. 

“Shh. It’s okay, son. It’s okay, she’s not dead.”

Not dead.

The words send a warm spike into his cold heart. 

“It’s okay. She’s not dead.”

She’s not dead.

“What’s your name, son? I’m Doctor Peterson. I’m the one taking care of your mother.”

“My name is James.”

“Well, James. Your mother has suffered a severe head injury. Unfortunately, she slipped into a coma. Do you know what a coma is, James?”

He shakes his head.

“Basically, it means your mother fell into a deep sleep and we’re not sure when she’ll wake up again.”

“You-you can’t make her wake up now?”

“No. I’m sorry, James.”

“How come?”

“We just don’t know how. We’ve tried everything we can, but nothing worked.”

James looks up at Mr. and Mrs. Brown. 

“What will I do? Am I gonna go home?” 

Mrs. Brown bursts into tears. 

Mr. Brown kneels and, putting his hands on James’ shoulders, says, “You can’t go home by yourself and they won’t let you come home with us because we’re not your family.”

“But I wanna go home.”

Mr. Brown’s sympathy is clearly written on his face as he says, “I’m sorry, James.”

James is empty. He looks out the window and sees the same emptiness staring back.

“This the kid?” asks a new voice.

James looks around and sees an official-looking guy standing behind him. 

Mrs. Brown suddenly shouts, “You can’t take him! He shouldn’t have to go to an orphanage! He should come with us. We’ve already been taking care of him!”

“Hey! Woah,” the new guy says. “Look, there’s no need to bust my chops. I ain’t got no say in this, lady.” Then, under his breath, he mutters, “Damn, I could use a fix right about now.”

Mr. Brown is comforting his wife while he says, “See here, sonny. We’re just trying to look out for James.”

“Oh, is that his name? Look, geezer, it’s gettin’ late and I got places to be.”

“What did you just call me, boy! You need to learn some respect!”

“Hey! I get it. You love him, but you ain’t family, is ya? So he’s gotta go to Saint Whats-its. It’s the law, so take it up with Uncle Sam. Let’s go, kid! We got a schedule to keep.”

Reluctantly, James follows. Looking back, he sees Mrs. Brown weeping in her husband’s arms. 

As James is pulled away from that room, Mr. Brown says, “Don’t worry, James. We’ll figure something out. You won’t have to be in there long!” 

The hope that Mr. Brown is trying to give him does very little to raise his spirit. The man leads him out of the hospital and into a waiting car. All the while, he’s blabbing on and on about what seems like nothing. 

“Wow! That receptionist was a fine dame if I do say so myself. No way a dame like that would go for me though. Not much of a jive bomber or nothin’. The best skills I got is being a heavy swigger and snappin’ my cap. Don’t tell anyone, mind you. Gotta keep this job.”

It goes on like that for a while, but James doesn’t understand or care. At some point, the man reveals his name to be Louie, which doesn’t matter all that much to James. Chances are, he would never see Louie again. 

It isn’t long after, that James finds himself standing beside Louie in front of a dreary-looking old building. Above the doorway, there’s a large plaque with “Saint John’s Orphanage” emblazoned across it. 

“This place gives me the creeps,” Louie says.

He knocks on the door and after a while, it’s answered by an angry-looking man.

“This the child?”

“This is ‘im.”

“Get in, boy. You can call me Headmaster or Father Olson. Nothing else. There are three caretakers. Matrons Mildred, Anna, and Gertrude. You will refer to each of them as Matron. There will be no informalities, rudeness or misbehavior of any kind. You will do chores and you will not cause problems. Do you understand, boy!”

James nods in response and enters at the headmaster’s beckoning. For a moment, Father Olson remains standing and staring at Louie, who stares back in kind.

“Do you think I could get a glass of water or somethin’? I’m parched.”

The headmaster slams the door in Louie’s face. Then James is yanked along by his shirt’s collar. 

“This way, boy! No more standing around!”

James rushes to follow, neck hurting from the forceful act. Without another word, Father Olson leads him up a flight of stairs and shoves him through a door. The salt and pepper haired man remains for a moment, looking around with a scowl as if daring someone to wake up. No one does. 

“Take an empty bed and not one peep from you,” he whispers angrily.

The door shuts softly behind the headmaster as he leaves. Looking around, James spots a few empty beds scattered among about a dozen occupied beds. As he heads for one, he notices several kids shifting.

“You can take this bed over here,” a kid whispers while gesturing to him in the dark. “My name is Mark, but we can save all that for tomorrow. It’s best not to let them know if you can’t sleep. They don’t react well.”

James accepts the offer and whispers back, “Thanks. I’m James.”

James lies down in his bed but doesn’t fall asleep. A few other kids quit pretending to be asleep and tell him their names. When he’s certain that all the orphans have fallen asleep, he quietly gets up and walks to a window that looks out over the city of Boston. He pulls the letter from his pocket. Somewhere out there, his mom lays in a hospital bed. Somewhere out there is his home and the Browns. 

The sky is clear and full of stars. There’s a moment that comes to his mind as he gazes up. Before the war, he had looked upon the same stars with his father. His father had said, “You see all these stars, James? In each of those stars is an angel. A kind being who looks out for all of us good people. That’s why every time darkness covers the earth, they shine bright in the sky, showing us that there is always hope, even in the darkest of times.”

As he recalls this moment, a shooting star streaks through the sky. Strangely enough, however, it doesn’t disappear like normal shooting stars. Instead, it slows down and glows brighter. It makes an arc across the sky and then begins to increase in size. It gets bigger and bigger until it’s wider than the moon! Then, it slowly touches down on top of a building across the street from the orphanage. It’s a glowing white orb the size of a car. 

James stares at the orb, transfixed. He opens the window to get a clearer view. The strange fallen star, or whatever it is, remains unmoving. Slowly, it begins to dim until it’s not glowing at all. Just an orb dimly lit by the light of the moon and stars. 

Then, as if its very presence isn’t strange enough, it begins to slide open. An old fat man with a big white beard steps out, dressed in clothes that look remarkably old. As the snow begins falling, one thought takes over his mind. “Santa is an angel?”

December 21st

“James! James, get up! James!”

James jumps upright to find that he’s on the floor next to the window. A girl stands over him with her hand on his shoulder. He stands up quickly with her aid. 

“Quickly, over here and stand by your bed,” she whispers urgently.

He follows her orders and stands by the bed he had chosen. He realizes that all the other kids are standing by their beds and decides it must be some sort of strict rule. He hears footsteps on the stairs and senses the tension increase in the room. All the other kids look scared, as though a nightmarish monster is about to walk through the door and consume them all.

Then the footsteps stop and a series of knocks resound in a sort of jaunty pattern. After the knocks, before the door even opens, all the other kids visibly relax and the tension disappears. 

“It’s okay,” an older boy says to James as the door opens. “That’s Matron Anna’s knock. She’s the only nice one. Really understands us, she does. Hi Matron Anna.”

“Hello Matthew, and hello everyone. I hear we have a newcomer!” Anna says, looking at James kindly.

“Yeah! This is-” Mark begins eagerly before the older girl, who had woken James, interrupts him.

“Mark! Give him a chance to speak.”

“That’s quite right, Mary. Thank you. Go ahead, tell us a little about yourself,” Anna says.

After a bit of a pause, James tries to wipe the sleep from his eyes and then says, “Well. I’m James and…” Uncertain what to say about himself, he just trails off. 

“What do you like to do, James?” Anna asks.

“I like to play with toys and… and I like stories.”

“Hey! I like stories too!” Mark almost shouts. “What’s your favorite story?”

“Uh, I don’t…” James reaches into his pocket and grabs the letter that resides there. “I just…”

“Come on guys, let’s not bother James too much. Why don’t we each introduce ourselves and maybe say something we like or how old we are,”  Anna suggests.

Mark, a scrawny boy with glasses, says, “Well, I’m Mark and I like all kinds of stories. Oh, and I’m nine.” 

The girl who Anna called Mary says, “I am Mary. Matthew and I are twins and we’re sixteen. We try to help everyone stay out of trouble.” 

“That’s right, I’m Matthew, and as my twin said, we keep you younger ones from the worst of the Headmaster and the other matrons. Except for Anna. She’s the nice one.”

“Careful Matthew,” Anna says. “You wouldn’t want to anger old Mildew.” 

All the kids laugh. 

“That’s what we call Matron Mildred, but don’t let the others know or you’d get in big trouble,” Mark warns.

“Uh, is it my turn?” a little girl asks.

Anna responds, “Of course, go ahead, dear.”

“I’m Martha and I’m seven and I like plants and flowers and trees and bushes and all sorts of plants!”

Another girl, who looks to be just about his age, says, “I’m Jane. I’m eleven, just like Will who’s my best friend.” 

She gestures to her aforementioned best friend who doesn’t respond in any way, even when everyone looks at him. Given his lack of response, Jane pinches him gently on his arm.

“Oh! Me. I’m Will. I like sleeping, I guess.”

Jane looks at him expectantly for a moment until he continues. 

“Oh yeah. I’m eleven too.”

There are only a couple boys left, both sitting on their own beds. One looks a little older than himself and his bed sits in a corner away from everyone else’s. The other is barely more than a toddler and his bed sits just next to Mary’s. Mary gives a serious look at the older boy.

“Fine! I’m Norman. I’m twelve. Just leave me alone.”

Putting her hand gently on his back, Mary says, “And this is Thomas. He’s four and he doesn’t talk. It’s not because of you, though.”

“And I’m Matron Anna. If you need anything, come to me whenever possible. The other matrons and Father Olson are disinclined to help. Now everyone, be brave. We must now go to breakfast and you must be on your best behavior. James, just be careful and follow the others’ lead.”

Matron Anna leads them downstairs and then into a small dining hall. The breakfast is a bleak affair, consisting of mostly canned veggies and half-baked potatoes. The worst part is that Matrons Mildred and Gertrude, along with the headmaster, all have eggs and a little bacon to go with. 

After breakfast, the kids are the ones who have to clean up and wash the dishes. After that’s finished, Father Olson sets them to work on cleaning everything in the orphanage. James is befuddled by this as the whole place is so beaten down that no matter how much they clean, it always looks terrible. When asked about this, Matthew says that they have to clean like that every day. 

Still worse, there was a heavy snowfall the night before and instead of being able to go outside and play in it, as he normally would have, he was strictly informed that they would not be able to. Instead, after lunch they would have to shovel all the snow off the front stairs and off all the walkways around the building. 

Finally, the worst part of all comes when Norman causes trouble. In the mid-afternoon, all of them are shoveling snow when Martha stops for a moment to look at a small bit of grass poking through the snow. Norman suddenly stomps over to her and pushes her over.

“Get to work, you lazy little girl!” he yells at her.

“Hey! Leave her alone,” James shouts as he rushes to her aid.

“You don’t tell me what to do, new boy!”

Then Norman throws a punch that James barely dodges. Somehow, James finds himself grappling with Norman and not sure how to fight.

“What is this!” A shrill voice screeches. 

The sound causes everyone to freeze. Matron Mildred strides angrily towards James and Norman.

“He started-” Norman began to say until a powerful slap shuts him up and sends him toppling over in the snow.

Before James could get any grasp on what’s happening, Matron Mildred has a cane in her hand and begins beating Norman while he whimpers on the ground. Then, after a dozen or more merciless strikes, she turns to James. An explosion of pain strikes the side of his head and his vision blurs as he dazedly falls to the ground. Blow after blow brings an immense, previously unexperienced amount of pain to him. 

“I expect not to see that ever again!” Matron Mildred screams.

After hearing the door slam shut, James feels hands helping him up and comforting him. 

“Oh James. I’m so sorry. I wish you hadn’t. Matthew would have dealt with Norman,” Mary says.

“Sorry,” James groans.

The others have James and Norman stand aside so that they’re out of sight and can rest a little bit. They steadfastly avoid looking at each other. When they finish shoveling, they’re allowed back inside, each of them with hands and feet numb. 

They walk single-file up the stairs, James and Norman walking last. Before they enter the sleeping quarters, however, Norman apologizes to James. James is surprised and accepts the apology.

“Can I show you something?” Norman asks.

Uncertain, James accepts. So Norman leads James further up the stairs. They come to a door and as James is opening the door, he realizes his mistake. Norman’s hand shoves him forward onto the snowy rooftop and the door shuts behind him. Quickly, James turns around and tries to open the door but it’s locked. He fell for a stupid trick. His only hope is that the others notice he’s gone.

James sits against the wall next to the door. The area on the roof is small and the only thing up there is the now-dead victory garden. The snow takes on a new, more menacing form as it slowly leeches the life from him. He’s up there for a while and the sky begins to grow dark. The sun lost her grip and fell below the earth, leaving him to the frost. His body is shaking uncontrollably. 

Suddenly, a thought springs to his mind, “I am not alone.”

It doesn’t make sense to him, because he is so very alone. No friend to let him in. He’s been forgotten so easily. No one to look after him. No parents to love him.

“You are not alone.”

Something warm sparks inside him. Then, inexplicably, he’s inside and being carried by two warm arms. A hand breathes life into the skin of his face. He opens his eyes to see blonde hair dangling over him and a beautiful face with lights twinkling around it. 

“It’s an angel,” he thinks to himself. “I’ve been saved by an actual angel.”

December 22nd

James’ eyes slowly open, taking in his surroundings. The angel that saved him sits beside him on the bed. He blinks and finds that it’s not an angel at all. It’s just Mary.

“What happened? I thought I saw an angel carrying me inside.”

Mary laughs and says, “Well I’m certainly not an angel, but thank you. Matthew and I had a hard time sneaking out to find you. Norman wouldn’t say where you went and we knew he must have done something terrible. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I feel… I feel good.”

“That’s unlikely. You were out there for a long time. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just before I came inside, I felt like I was warming up from the inside and then I started to feel really sleepy.”

Mary looks thoughtful and then says, “Well we’d better all head down. Matron Mildew already came and left. She usually just tells us how much time we have before we have to head down.” 

Unfortunately, the day seems destined to follow the exact same form as the previous one. After breakfast they clean. After lunch, they head outside to shovel away another night’s snowfall. This time, Matthew makes Norman shovel in an area away from the rest of them and keeps an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t try anything again. 

“What’s this now? A bunch of rapscallions doing honest labor? What is this world coming to? I should have snowballs in everything from my ears to my socks by now!” An elderly voice says to them. 

Every one of them turns to find the source and when James sees who it is, his heart skips a beat.

“You’re Santa!” James shouts without thinking.

All the kids look at him like he’s crazy and the old man asks, “Is that so? What makes you think that?”

“Because I, I saw you in the, and, and the star and. You’re an angel too?”

The old man chuckles.

“James, take a breather. What’s going on?” Mark says, eager to learn.

The would-be Santa looks curiously at him.

“I saw, the first night I got here, I couldn’t sleep and I saw a shooting star. But it looped around and got closer and landed on that building!” James points to the building in question. “Then I saw the star open up and he got out!” This time he points at the old man.

“That’s gobbledygook,” Mark begins to say before being interrupted by the old man himself.

“Gobbledygook? Why no, indeed. I am quite befuddled that I’ve been caught again!”

“What!” Mark shouts, incredulous. “And you’re an angel too? I thought you were Saint Nicholas!”

“Well that’s the mystery isn’t it?”

“What does that mean? Why did you ride a shooting star? I thought you had a sleigh with reindeer to pull it!”

“What makes you think that?” 

“Wh- b- it, but everyone knows that!” Mark was getting quite flustered.

The mysterious man laughed heartily. “Since when is everyone right? I’m not an angel, but I work with them. I’m a giver of gifts and I ride a shooting star.” 

Mark sputters in outrage before asking, “Well, are you Santa or not!” 

“Find your joy along the journey and hope in the destination, lest you be disappointed when you reach the end of your life,” the old man says before winking at James.

Then, the old man vanishes like he was never there. 

“What was that?” Mark shouts to the empty air.

“What is going on here, you lazy brats!” a menacing voice cut in, destroying to air of mystery and curiosity. “Who was that man and what did you tell him!” 

Father Olson’s glaring eyes scan them and land on James and Mark. Before he places the blame, Mary speaks out.

“It was no one! We didn’t tell him anything!”

He lunges for her, saying, “You lying little devil!” and drags her into the orphanage.

“No!” Matthew shouts and chases after them. 

Just when Matthew reaches to grab the headmaster, Father Olson brings his cupped hand around and strikes him over the ear. The blow is so strong that it knocks him off his feet. Matthew lays cradling his head where he fell. Father Olson drags Mary down the stairs to the cellar, while they all watch helplessly. They hear her screaming in pain.

James finds himself being forced upstairs to their sleeping quarters by Matrons Mildred and Gertrude. All the kids stand silently in their room. A minute later and Matthew is thrown through the door. Then the door is shut and locked behind him. 

Matthew rages. He pounds on the door and screams at the people who’re tormenting his sister. All curiosity from before is dead. Fury and fear reign supreme that night. Matthew punches the door and screams until his knuckles are bloodied and his voice becomes hoarse. James thinks frantically for a way to save Mary.

“We have to find a policeman!” James shouts at Matthew. “That’s how we can save her. Now how do we get out of here?” 

Matthew stops and looks at him. “You’re right,” he whispers painfully.

Mark says, “We can let you both down out the window! Let’s tie some of our blankets together to make a rope!”

Quickly, all the other kids get together to help make the rope and lower James and Matthew to the ground. It doesn’t take them long to make a rope that will reach the ground with room to hold on. The first one to descend is James, followed by Matthew. Together, James and Matthew run towards downtown Boston. It isn’t a long trip because they spot an officer just a couple blocks away. 

“Officer! Help! We need help!” James shouts. 

The officer turns slowly to look at them, smoking a cigarette. 

“What do you want, kids? I don’t have time for this.”

“A bad man is hurting his sister! He might kill her if you don’t stop him!”

The policeman stares directly into James’ eyes. He takes a long draw from his cigarette until it’s just a stump. Then he blows all the smoke into his face. James coughs and chokes on the smoke. 

“Please, sir. You have to help,” Matthew says desperately. 

“You see this, boys?” the officer says, holding a match. He lights it and continues, “This little flame is all life in the world right now. Delicate and slowly running out. At any moment, it could be,” he blows out the match, “snuffed out.”

He pauses while James and Matthew look horrified. He pulls a flask from his jacket and takes a large swig. Then he takes his time pulling out another cigarette and lighting it before continuing. 

“So why in the hell would I bother myself with such a stupid childish game as the one you’re playing right now? Huh?”

“It’s not a game!” James insists. “If you just come and look, you’ll see!”

“Shut up, cretin! Get out of my sight!”

“But-”

“Go!”

James is pulled away by Matthew. They walk sullenly back to the orphanage and the other kids pull them back in. 

“Did you find a policeman?” Jane asks.

Neither of them responds. 

“What happened?” Mark asks. 

“It’s hopeless. The policeman wouldn’t help. They won’t bother with kids like us.” James says, defeated.

“Well, what’s the point of them then?” Will asks rhetorically.

Silence ensues among them, allowing them to hear the occasional cries of pain from Mary. Matthew begins to weep quietly.

“Hope is not lost,” a smooth and powerful voice says.

Everyone, including Matthew, looks around to find the source, but no one can be seen. 

“Hope is never lost,” it continues. “Hope is not found in the present, but in the future. In the end, justice will come for each and every man, woman, and child. None will be forgotten. Sometimes, trials lead to worse and worse pain, never ceasing until death. That is why our hope lies not in this life, but in the new life. I say this and you may be discouraged, knowing the pain of your sister, and knowing it may not end. You would be mistaken to think it will not end, however. I tell you this: this is not one of those times. This time, a servant of Meldul has heard your pleas! I am a servant of Meldul and I have witnessed your pain. Your justice begins now.”

Then, just as he had disappeared, the man who they believe to be Santa Clause appears before them. This time, he’s not dressed in the average man’s clothes. He’s dressed in dark, majestic, crimson robes with a strange, gold crest on the chest. His hair is turned golden and bright like the sun. 

“Know first, that I have taken away Mary’s pain and healed her wounds. She can no longer be harmed, for I protect her. Her cries of pain now are only to fool that false prophet. Soon, I will place all of you, the matrons and the false prophet as well, in a dreamless sleep so that you will all awaken at the proper moment, without having felt any passage of time. When you awake, there will be instructions waiting for you.”

December 23rd

“Where’d he go?” Mark says.

“Did we already sleep?” James asks.

“We must have! Look outside! The sun is setting again!” Matthew exclaimed. 

Vigor and hope fills them. Overcome with excitement, Jane begins to giggle.

Rubbing his eyes, Will exclaims, “Guys! There’s presents!”

“Woah! James, this one’s for you!” Mark says, handing James a tiny box with a bow on it. 

“Here’s one for me!” Jane says.

“And me!” Martha says.

James looks at his own gift while the others open theirs. A small note is attached that says: “Your job is most important of all. Hold tight to this and think of a place and it will take you there quicker than the beat of a hummingbird's wings. Simply set your friends free and then answer the front door when you hear three knocks. P.S. He who fights bravely to the end will find his reward.” James opens the box to find a small stone within it. The stone fits comfortably in his hand. 

He squeezes the stone tightly and suddenly finds himself at home, but it’s empty. It’s nothing like he remembers. It’s dark and gloomy. The grandfather clock ticks on and on. Filling the house with dead sound. Then he squeezes again and finds himself back with the orphans. 

“Woah, James! Can you turn invisible?” Mark asks.

“No, it moves me anywhere I want in an instant,” he responds, holding the rock up to show them all. “What do your gifts do?”

“Will’s makes him float. Martha got a bunch of seeds that grow really big, really fast. Matthew got fireworks. Jane got some sort of healing elixir. And I got this!” Mark summarizes before splitting into a dozen copies of himself. “The others are all like ghosts!”

“What about Thomas?” James asks.

Matthew explains, “He and Norman are still asleep. I guess Santa didn’t think they’d be ready for whatever’s about to happen. Which makes me wonder, who else got instructions? All I got was a note that said, ‘Cause mayhem.’”

“Well, I gotta set us all free, but how?” James asks.

“What? You can go anywhere instantly! Just go grab the key!” 

James grips the stone tightly and finds himself downstairs in the main hall. The matrons all sit around the fire in old, beaten up armchairs. Behind them is a small table with the keys lying upon it. James carefully tiptoes to the keys and as soon as he grabs them, he squeezes the stone and finds himself just outside the door to their sleeping quarters. He unlocks the door and flings it open. 

Everyone rushes out like greased lightning, ready to finally have their revenge on the horrible Gertrude, Mildew and Father Olson. The first thing that happens is a dozen or so fireworks start blasting off in the main hall. The Matrons start leaping up and screaming. A firework blasts just above Matron Mildew, setting her hair on fire.

Matron Anna smiles and runs towards the children shouting, “I guess that means it’s time!”

When Matron Anna reaches them, she turns around and starts throwing fresh tomatoes at the other two Matrons, which seem to be appearing in her hands from nowhere. Then James notices that she has a tomato earring in one ear. Santa didn’t forget her. 

Suddenly, trees covered in beautiful blossoms begin erupting through the stone floors, knocking everything over. Every time a firework blows up in a tree, blossoms fly all over the room. James notices Will drifting in above everyone’s heads while a dozen Marks run all over the place. Then, once Gertrude and Mildew gain their wits, they each grab canes and begin chasing kids. Mildew lunges for Martha but she throws a seed down in front of her so an erupting tree flings Matron Mildew across the hall. Gertrude starts swinging at all the different Marks until she catches another tomato to the face. Then she turns with wrath set on Matron Anna. 

Before Gertrude reaches Anna, Anna grabs a branch from one of the trees and they begin slashing at each other in classic dueling fashion. Matthew runs out of fireworks and starts looking around for a way to help. Just then, Mildew finds the real Mark and knocks him to the ground. Then she lifts the cane above her head, ready to strike Mark as hard as she can, but before she can swing, Matthew tackles her to the ground and they begin to wrestle. Then, as James has been expecting, three knocks ring out. James grips the stone and finds himself by the door. He flings it open to find a whole group of Christmas carolers staring wide-eyed at the carnage. One of them screams for someone to get the police while a few men rush in to break up the fights between Gertrude and Anna, and Mildew and Matthew. Matthew and Anna submitted to the newcomers while the other two continued to rage, fighting against the carolers. 

As the men rushed in to help, another had run to get the police. Once silence settled over the hall for a moment, Father Olson’s struggles could finally be heard.

“You can’t hurt me, you evil old geezer! I’m not telling you anything!”

“This is sorcery, you witch! I will destroy you if it’s the last thing I do!”

Before the newcomers can go to Mary’s aid, a policeman rushes in. They tell the officer what they heard below and James points to the stairs that lead to the cellar. Without a second thought, the policeman charges down the stairs. 

“Sir! put the weapon down!” 

“This girl is a witch! I have to kill her!” 

“Sir! If you don’t-”

“How dare you! I am a man of God!”

“Sir! Don’t-”

Three loud, rapid bangs shake the air. Silence follows, other than the heavy breathing of those present. James’ heart races as he waits. Then, they hear footsteps coming up the stairs. The police officer comes walking up the stairs with his arm around Mary. Every one of the kids let out a sigh of relief. 

Hope for something new grows in the hearts of each of the orphans and in James. The policemen start ushering people around, talking and hearing what everyone has to say. All the kids, including Thomas and Norman who had just awoken, are taken outside where Santa stands in gentleman’s clothes with his beard neatly trimmed. Beside him is a long carriage pulled by four horses. Santa winks at them and invites them on. James is the last to enter, but before he does, he asks Santa one question.

“But what about my Mumma?”

“Didn’t you read my note?”

“Well I did, but-”

“Hush. You must have patience. All shall be well.”

“Okay.”

The ride is full anticipation and the kids all discuss where they might be going and what’s going to happen to them. After a while, they stop in front of a large mansion and Santa leads them inside.

“This is your new home, and as of yet, there are no restrictions.”

All the kids explode with excitement, talking over each other madly. 

“And there’s plenty of food for everyone. Feel free to feast!”

Then Santa vanishes. Excitedly, the kids run around, looking at all the rooms. At one point, Mark accidentally knocks over a vase and flinches, looking terrified.

“What do I do!” 

Before anyone can answer, a closet door opens. Then, inexplicably, a broom and dustpan fly out of their own accord and quickly sweep up the mess. After they finish, they fly back and the door closes. At the same time, the small pillar that the vase was standing on opens up like a jack-in-the-box and a new, more colorful vase pops out and then the pillar closes up again as if it had never opened.

“Woah. A self-cleaning house.” Mark says with hushed amazement.

They all run about and play, care-free until they’re too tired to go on. The house has rooms for each one of them and many more besides. When they decide to go to sleep, however, they all realize what has been missing. There’s no caretaker. No one to keep them safe. They decided, instead of using separate rooms, to sleep together on the floor of a large carpeted living room. James sleeps uneasily, missing his mother dearly. 

December 24th

James wakes to a familiar sound. His heart nearly leaps out of his chest as jolts awake. His eyes fly open to see his mother smiling at him.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” his mother says as she embraces him.

“I missed you too, Mumma. I missed you so much and I was so scared.”

“Well, you don’t have to be scared anymore.”

The other kids start waking up and whispering in awed tones.

“James, there’s someone who wants to see you outside,” his mother says.

“Can you come with?”

“Now, now. I have to meet all your new friends, don’t I? You go ahead. Everything will be alright now.”

“Okay.” 

James goes outside to find out who wants to see him. Sure enough, Santa Clause, still in his gentleman’s garb, stands waiting.

“Ah, there you are. I’ve been meaning to ask you about that letter of yours. May I read it?”

“Uh. Well, I guess so,” James says, pulling it out of his pocket. 

He hands it over and knows, word for word, what Santa will be reading. 

My Dearest Freya and James,
I miss you both so much that I think I might burst! I dare not tell of this war, lest you be overcome with fear. Hold on to hope, my loves. I will come home to you one day. Regarding your last letter, I will write a new story for the little tyke. One that’s longer and more epic than any I’ve made before. Before I begin the story, let me say that I love both of you more than life itself and that even though I’m far away, I am always with you in your heart. 

Sincerely, with the deepest of loves, Lachlan Oliver Quinn

Attached at the bottom, is the story which James’ mother had read to him just five days prior.

“This is the last letter you ever got, isn’t it, James Quinn?”

James nods. 

“Well, it’s about time I let you get back to your mother. You must be excited considering you won’t have to be away from her again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look for yourself,” Santa says, pointing to a plaque in front of the mansion.

It’s blank, but after Santa points, the surface changes until it reads, “The Lachland Oliver Quinn Orphanage.”

James runs inside and tugs on his mother’s shirt. 

“What is it, James?” she asks him.

“You’re going to run this new orphanage?”

She smiles and says, “That’s right, sweetie. That nice old man set it all up.”

“That was Santa Clause!”

“Oh, I know that. I’m not daft, you know.”

Then there’s a knock at the door.

“Ah, I believe that’s another little surprise that Santa set up,” his mother says before opening the door. 

On the doorstep with three wagons full of Christmas decorations are Matron Anna and the Browns. Excited and full of joy, they all decorate for Christmas and later, they enjoy a Christmas Eve feast meant for kings. Peace and hope fill that home to bursting. The joy and excitement of Christmas filling them up for a nice, restful sleep. Before heading to sleep, however, the spirit of giving inspires them. So they make plans to have another feast for Christmas and invite anyone unfortunate enough to not have a nice Christmas dinner of their own.

That night, each of the children finally feels comfortable and safe enough to sleep in their own rooms, but even so, a noise wakes each and every child in that mansion. James pokes his head out to find all the others doing the same. Another noise comes from the main living room. Tip-toeing, they all sneak down to find Santa, dressed in his dark crimson robe, his beard flowing with gold. Santa has his back to them, placing one last present under the tree.

“You sneaky little kids,” he says.

Then, he lets out a booming laugh and disappears into thin air.

The End

Merry Christmas!

No comments:

Post a Comment

Hope Amidst the Dying of the Light

June 6th, 1944 Omaha Beach, Normandy. The air burns with fury and fear. Voices rage against the darkness. The so...