Status: my entry for the ultimate 2016 contest, 1/12, completed
You're a Bum, You're a Punk
III.
“It’s no big deal,” said Noel in a whisper, and as an encouragement, he pinched Sam’s cheek lightly. “You walk up there, slip it into the post box and make a run for it. We’re out of here in a minute.”
Sam had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “Right,” he said, wrestling himself into his jacket. “Thanks for the support, I guess.”
He wasn’t very good at sneaking around. He accidentally slammed the car door shut with a loud thud, and things only went downhill from there. As he approached the house, he heard several voices speaking in an oddly rhythmic way - the TV seemed to be on in the house. Still, he reasoned, he could still sneak up and deliver the card without attracting any attention. He didn’t expect an automatic light go off with his next step, and from that moment everything happened all at once.
“What was that?” said a female voice inside. At the same time, a large red cat pushed past Sam and entered through the cat flap, screeching loudly.
“The cat,” came the response inside to the woman’s question. Just hearing that voice again made Sam freeze in his place, clutching at the Christmas card helplessly.
“The sensor doesn’t see the cat,” the woman reasoned in a nervous, high pitched voice, “and look, someone scared him. Go check.”
Noel rolled down the window and shouted, “Fucking run!”
Sam still couldn’t move as the door opened wide, and there he was, Jamie, staring at him with a blank expression.
“What the fuck.”
A car door opened and closed somewhere, but Sam didn’t really pay attention. In the doorway Effie’s face appeared beside James. She was quiet for a moment, and then,
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Sam waved the card lamely in the air. “I wanted to make sure your Christmas card got here before... well, Christmas.” An expression of disgust appeared on Effie’s face; James looked vaguely amused.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked.
“What friend?” Samuel asked in reply, sincerely confused. James gestured with his head, and Sam saw Noel standing half a step behind him.
“Oh,” he said after a moment. “I thought I was the only one who could see him. He’s the Ghost of Christmas Future.”
Noel coughed politely behind him, and James couldn’t suppress a snort. Effie stepped aside to let them enter, and a few moments later, with the water running, she shouted from the kitchen, “is it tea or coffee you want?”
The four of them piled around the small kitchen table. The steam from their mugs was swirling out the open window along with the smoke from their cigarettes. James looked at his card, at the splatter of blood, at the fresher blood stain on Sam’s sweater.
“Why did you come here, Sam?” he asked, and, after he got no reply, “Are you okay?”
Sam shrugged. “You weren’t supposed to open the door. But now that I... I guess... you expect me to say sorry now, don’t you?”
“I mean, you never did say sorry,” Effie chimed in.
“Well it wasn’t very cool what you did, either,” Sam raised his voice, directed at both of them, “never speaking to me again. I was just trying to...”
“And really, what’s with this card?” It was James who spoke this time. “Is it supposed to make me feel bad? Or is it you showing up at my house in the middle of the night on Christmas that’s somehow supposed to make me feel bad for leaving?”
“It’s not!” Sam snapped. “It’s exactly what it says it is. Guess what, this was hard for me to handle too. I’m bad enough at connecting with people, so what am I supposed to do with people who never said they wouldn’t talk to me again and then they didn’t? I was just trying to send a fucking Christmas card. I’m sorry! I’m sorry I have no idea what I’m doing, ever.”
He was fighting back tears by now, and his face felt unbearably hot. This was the worst night of his life, no question. Unexpectedly, Noel squeezed his hand under the table. He felt a bit of life inch back into him through his fingers. Effie and James exchanged a glance, and James finally spoke.
“Look, I didn’t mean to... abandon you like that. I just needed space because your mind games drove me mad. You were being childish.”
The shame, the guilt, the anger and the hurt all spilled over the edge at the same time. Sam accidentally slammed his mug down on the table.
“I wasn’t being childish! I was depressed!”
Silence settled over the kitchen. For a moment, Sam thought he had gone deaf from the sudden surge of emotion.
“I’m sorry,” he said, just to test his theory. He could hear all right.
“I’m sorry, too,” said James quietly. “But that wasn’t really my problem to fix.”
Sam pointed at his Christmas card and smiled weakly.
“Are you going to burn that?”
“Nah, I’ll put it in a drawer,” replied James, and for a reason unknown even to them, they burst out laughing at the same time.
They were all visibly shaken as they said their goodbyes, a cloud of quiet confusion hanging above them. As the front door closed behind them and they were out in the cold again, Sam was surprised, but only for a moment, to be tugged into an embrace. Noel was a little shorter than him but that much stronger, and it was nice of him, Sam thought, to not let him fall apart to little bits.
“This sucked a great deal, didn’t it,” said Noel in an almost cheery voice as they both stepped back. Sam looked away into the distance, into the soothing darkness.
“I guess it was nice to get some... closure. Come on. I’ll drive home so you can take a nap.”
They did just that. There was no conversation on the way home and no Christmas songs, just a classic rock channel that kept slipping in Stooges songs, for whatever reason. Sam hummed to himself, out of tune, all the way home. The sun was already on its way up as the car swam back into the sea of slippery fog, guided by pale city lights. Sam took a deep, tentative breath and reached over to the passenger seat to wake Noel up.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, smiling, as they made eye contact for a brief moment, “whoever you are.”
Sam had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “Right,” he said, wrestling himself into his jacket. “Thanks for the support, I guess.”
He wasn’t very good at sneaking around. He accidentally slammed the car door shut with a loud thud, and things only went downhill from there. As he approached the house, he heard several voices speaking in an oddly rhythmic way - the TV seemed to be on in the house. Still, he reasoned, he could still sneak up and deliver the card without attracting any attention. He didn’t expect an automatic light go off with his next step, and from that moment everything happened all at once.
“What was that?” said a female voice inside. At the same time, a large red cat pushed past Sam and entered through the cat flap, screeching loudly.
“The cat,” came the response inside to the woman’s question. Just hearing that voice again made Sam freeze in his place, clutching at the Christmas card helplessly.
“The sensor doesn’t see the cat,” the woman reasoned in a nervous, high pitched voice, “and look, someone scared him. Go check.”
Noel rolled down the window and shouted, “Fucking run!”
Sam still couldn’t move as the door opened wide, and there he was, Jamie, staring at him with a blank expression.
“What the fuck.”
A car door opened and closed somewhere, but Sam didn’t really pay attention. In the doorway Effie’s face appeared beside James. She was quiet for a moment, and then,
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Sam waved the card lamely in the air. “I wanted to make sure your Christmas card got here before... well, Christmas.” An expression of disgust appeared on Effie’s face; James looked vaguely amused.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked.
“What friend?” Samuel asked in reply, sincerely confused. James gestured with his head, and Sam saw Noel standing half a step behind him.
“Oh,” he said after a moment. “I thought I was the only one who could see him. He’s the Ghost of Christmas Future.”
Noel coughed politely behind him, and James couldn’t suppress a snort. Effie stepped aside to let them enter, and a few moments later, with the water running, she shouted from the kitchen, “is it tea or coffee you want?”
The four of them piled around the small kitchen table. The steam from their mugs was swirling out the open window along with the smoke from their cigarettes. James looked at his card, at the splatter of blood, at the fresher blood stain on Sam’s sweater.
“Why did you come here, Sam?” he asked, and, after he got no reply, “Are you okay?”
Sam shrugged. “You weren’t supposed to open the door. But now that I... I guess... you expect me to say sorry now, don’t you?”
“I mean, you never did say sorry,” Effie chimed in.
“Well it wasn’t very cool what you did, either,” Sam raised his voice, directed at both of them, “never speaking to me again. I was just trying to...”
“And really, what’s with this card?” It was James who spoke this time. “Is it supposed to make me feel bad? Or is it you showing up at my house in the middle of the night on Christmas that’s somehow supposed to make me feel bad for leaving?”
“It’s not!” Sam snapped. “It’s exactly what it says it is. Guess what, this was hard for me to handle too. I’m bad enough at connecting with people, so what am I supposed to do with people who never said they wouldn’t talk to me again and then they didn’t? I was just trying to send a fucking Christmas card. I’m sorry! I’m sorry I have no idea what I’m doing, ever.”
He was fighting back tears by now, and his face felt unbearably hot. This was the worst night of his life, no question. Unexpectedly, Noel squeezed his hand under the table. He felt a bit of life inch back into him through his fingers. Effie and James exchanged a glance, and James finally spoke.
“Look, I didn’t mean to... abandon you like that. I just needed space because your mind games drove me mad. You were being childish.”
The shame, the guilt, the anger and the hurt all spilled over the edge at the same time. Sam accidentally slammed his mug down on the table.
“I wasn’t being childish! I was depressed!”
Silence settled over the kitchen. For a moment, Sam thought he had gone deaf from the sudden surge of emotion.
“I’m sorry,” he said, just to test his theory. He could hear all right.
“I’m sorry, too,” said James quietly. “But that wasn’t really my problem to fix.”
Sam pointed at his Christmas card and smiled weakly.
“Are you going to burn that?”
“Nah, I’ll put it in a drawer,” replied James, and for a reason unknown even to them, they burst out laughing at the same time.
They were all visibly shaken as they said their goodbyes, a cloud of quiet confusion hanging above them. As the front door closed behind them and they were out in the cold again, Sam was surprised, but only for a moment, to be tugged into an embrace. Noel was a little shorter than him but that much stronger, and it was nice of him, Sam thought, to not let him fall apart to little bits.
“This sucked a great deal, didn’t it,” said Noel in an almost cheery voice as they both stepped back. Sam looked away into the distance, into the soothing darkness.
“I guess it was nice to get some... closure. Come on. I’ll drive home so you can take a nap.”
They did just that. There was no conversation on the way home and no Christmas songs, just a classic rock channel that kept slipping in Stooges songs, for whatever reason. Sam hummed to himself, out of tune, all the way home. The sun was already on its way up as the car swam back into the sea of slippery fog, guided by pale city lights. Sam took a deep, tentative breath and reached over to the passenger seat to wake Noel up.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, smiling, as they made eye contact for a brief moment, “whoever you are.”