by Kenya Wright
He gestured at all the doors. “Let’s go.”
“W-what is this?”
“Your lesson.”
“I. . .I mean what is that place.”
“Your lesson.” He gestured for me to walk through.
Swallowing, I mumbled to myself as I walked through. “It’s just a dream. A really cool dream.”
Chapter 8
I Won’t Be Home for Christmas
I slowly walked in the middle of a long path of doors. They were unattached to any foundation. They simply stood there.
The deep voice sounded behind me. “Pick a door.”
I looked over my shoulder. He was right next to me although I hadn’t sensed him so close. I turned back to the doors. “Which one?”
“It doesn’t matter. The one you choose is the one you’re supposed to walk through.”
“What if it isn’t?”
“Life is a choice. There are no wrong picks. Just destiny or lessons.”
I shook my head, not liking his answer. “Where is this place?”
“Your lesson.”
“Jesus Ch—”
“Please, don’t do that.”
I sighed. “Sorry.”
“He’s busy enough.”
“Oh.” I raised my eyebrows. “So, there’s a heaven?”
“There’s everything.”
“Meaning?”
“Pick a door.”
I walked down the path. All the doors looked different. There were tons of wooden ones. I spotted a few metal doors. Some were glass although I couldn’t see anything within them. The further I strolled forward, the stranger the doors began to get. One was shaped like a triangle. Another formed into a star. I was about to go to that one, but for some reason the door on the right caught my attention.
It was mounted on brass and formed a large circle, reminding me of an antique mirror. I walked up to it and looked at the knob. It was gold with silver carvings of flowers imposed on the top, resembling something out of the French Renaissance.
The odd man stood on my side. “You picked this one?”
I nodded.
“Open it.”
I reached my hand out and grabbed the beautiful knob. Before I could turn it, I was sucked into the door. White light surrounded me. An image stood in front of me, rippling like it was made from water. Not sure of what else to do, I walked toward it and then stepped out of the rippling reflection.
Blinking my eyes, I took in my surroundings.
Wait. What?
For a moment, I was frozen in shock. I was in the living room of my childhood home. My brain couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing. In front of me, a younger version of me opened presents while my mother and father sat on the couch. My mother leaned against him while he looked into his cellphone.
An ache hit my heart as I watched Younger Me search for more of her presents to open. So many happy memories filled my head—my father giggling and dancing with my mother as I twirled around them, helping my father decorate the tree, and watching my mother cook Christmas dinner.
Moisture gathered in the corners of my eyes. I swallowed down hard.
Young Me raised my teddy bear in the air. “Mommy, Santa brought me a teddy bear! I’m going to name him Foxy.”
Dad chuckled. “But it’s a bear, baby.”
“Yes, but Foxy is an awesome name.”
“Why?” Dad grinned.
“Because it’s the name of the pretty girl on the wall in your office.”
He laughed and checked his phone again. “All right, baby. Foxy Brown is good inspiration for a teddy bear.”
“Mommy, see.” Younger Me wagged the teddy bear. “Meet Foxy.”
“That’s great, Ivy.” My mother turned to Dad with a worried expression. “Who just called?”
He moved his attention from the big phone. “Huh?”
“Is that work calling you?”
“Oh.” He shut the phone off and placed it on the stand next to him. “Yes. It was work.”
A skeptical expression took the place of mom’s worried one. “Why don’t you call them back?”
Annoyance covered his face. “Because I don’t want to ruin our Christmas. Why? Would you like me to call my job? Would that make you feel better?”
Mom crossed her arms over her chest. “Sure. Do it right in front of me.”
Younger Me stopped playing with the new bear and turned back to my parents.
“Ivy is here.” Dad gestured to me. “Let’s not do this in front of her.”
“Okay.” Mom got up, hurried over to Younger Me, grabbed her little hand, and rushed her to the door. “Ivy, don’t you want to see what Santa gave Holly?”
“Um.” Younger Me held the teddy bear close. “But what about my other toys?”
“You can open them later, sweetheart.”
“That’s enough.” Dad stood. “Don’t rush Ivy out of here. She hasn’t even finished opening all of—”
“How dare you have that bitch call you on Christmas morning!” Mom yelled back.
Younger Me backed away from Mom.
Dad gave me a weak smile and glared at her. “Gloria, I said it was my job.”
“Sure, it was.” Mom marched over to him. “Show me! Prove it!”
“I’m not doing that. You’re ruining Christmas with all this paranoia.”
Younger Me closed her eyes tight and hugged her teddy bear harder as if she had the power to disappear with one blink.
And the spiritual part of me, watching the scene, shook in fear. The glow in my hands dimmed. I stepped back, getting behind the ghost. “I-I don’t want to be here.”
The glowing man turned and faced me. “Maybe we should follow you.”
“What?”
He pointed to Younger Me rushing out of the house with the teddy bear.
“Look what you did!” My father stormed away and headed to the bedroom. “Once again you ruin—”
“I ruin things?” Mom headed off after him. “You’re the one that won’t stop cheating!”
I didn’t look their way. I crossed my arms over my chest and listened to their screams.
“And you wonder why I cheat!” Dad roared back. “We can’t even have a nice morning without you starting an argument.”
“That bitch started the argument by calling you on Christmas morning. She knows you’re married. She knows she’s not important or do you tell her that she is.”
“I’m not doing this anymore with you.”
“Oh, you’re doing it!”
Glass smashed.
“I forgot how much they used to argue.” I inched away. “I forgot all of this. . .”
“We remember what we want.” The glowing man’s hair darkened.
I plead with him. “I don’t want to be here. Take me back to Finland—to my villa.”
“The lesson isn’t done.”
Mom cried out. “What does she give you that I don’t?”
“Peace and sanity,” Dad yelled back. “That’s what.”
Mom cried. “How can I give you peace and sanity when all you do is create chaos in our marriage!”
“I’m getting out of here.”
“What?!” More glass smashed. “Don’t you dare leave us on Christmas.”
“There’s no Christmas anymore. You ruined it, Gloria!”
I hurried away, not wanting to experience this anymore. I ran after Younger Me.
It snowed outside, but I didn’t feel cold. I found her footsteps on the ground. She didn’t run to the front of Holly’s house. She’d fled to the back.
I hurried that way and spotted her climbing into the opened window. Snow covered those little brown feet.
“There you go.” I gave a sad smile. “You’re supposed to have on your slippers, little Ivy.”
I hurried over.
Young Saint and Holly whispered as they helped her inside. They had excited rushed statements all dealing with the new toys they’d received. Younger Me held a sad smile an
d nodded her head. Young Saint shut the window.
I stared at the window in a daze. “They. . .I mean. . .we. . .all look so adorable and so. . .innocent.”
The glowing man grabbed my arm and jerked me forward.
Screaming, my body hurled toward the house. As soon as I thought I was going to hit the siding, I covered my face. Nothing happened. I opened my eyes. We landed in Holly’s bedroom. There, Younger Me sat with her legs crossed, listening to Holly and Saint talk more about their Christmas presents. Neither twin asked why she’d come. They were probably used to me sneaking into their room when my parents argued.
“Holly!” Her mother called from the other side of the house. “Come throw this wrapping paper away. I told you to clean up your mess. You still haven’t done it.”
“Okay, Mom.” Holly jumped up and then looked back. “Oh, Ivy, do you want some cookies and eggnog?”
I nodded.
Saint raised his hand. “Me too.”
“I’m not your maid, butthead.” Holly stuck her tongue at him and then left.
Saint frowned.
Younger Me giggled.
Saint turned her way.
She stopped. “Sorry. It was funny.”
“It wasn’t. I’ll get her back later.”
Younger Me smiled.
He scooted over to her. “Are they fighting again? Your parents.”
She nodded.
His frown deepened. He put his small hand on hers and squeezed it. “Did you open my present?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I will when I get back.”
“You’re going to like it.”
She widened her eyes. “Did you open my present?”
He grinned. “It was the best of them all.”
She beamed. “No way.”
“I’m not lying.”
Watching them made me feel happy and sad. It was good to remember our innocence. However, it was heartbreaking to know that their future would be a rough one, traumatizing and life-changing for both of them.
The glowing man walked off. “It’s time for us to go.”
I looked at him. “Why?”
He pointed in front of him. Swirling red energy moved within the doorway. “Let’s go.”
Swallowing, I walked forward, sad to leave Younger Me. I wanted to hug and console her. I knew what she was feeling—confused, sad, and scared for her parents. Little did she know that things would only get worse.
I followed the glowing man, walking through the red swirling energy with no fear. Everything had been so ridiculous. Surely things couldn’t get any worse.
Surprisingly, I stepped back into my childhood living room. “No. I said I didn’t want to be back here.”
“This is a different Christmas.”
Crying came from behind me. I checked that area and spotted Mom on the ground, grabbing at Dad’s leg. “Please, don’t leave us.”
Sadness filled his eyes as they watered. He held the doorknob but didn’t open it. “The doctor said that the baby will be sick. She wanted to kill him. I can’t let that happen, Gloria.”
“Let her kill the baby.”
“I can’t.”
“Then why do you need to be over there?”
“Because she’s scared and all alone and—”
“I’m scared and alone. I’m your wife—”
“Gloria—”
“Isn’t it enough that I took you back after you got her pregnant?”
“I have to go.” He gently pulled her off his leg. “It won’t be too long. I’ll just go see how she is doing and rush back. Trust me.”
Mom stayed on the floor. Tears streamed down her face. “The worst thing I ever could have done. . .was trust you.”
Anger swelled in my chest as I watched my father open the door and leave. “You piece of shit. That’s why I’ll never forgive you. Never.”
The glowing ghost stepped in front of me and frowned. “Hold my hand.”
I did, thinking we would be heading back to the villa. Instead, everything moved fast around us. Mom zipped off the floor and into the living room in a blur. I became dizzy and looked away. Buzzing filled my ears.
And then the ghost let go of my hand and pointed behind me. “Look.”
I checked over my shoulder.
Leaving her bedroom, Younger Me held her teddy bear and hurried into the living room. I spotted those white pajamas and jumped back. “No! No! Get me out of here.”
“We must remain.”
I covered my face. “I don’t want to be here. Please.”
“If you don’t look, then we’ll be stuck.”
I moved my hands. “I don’t want to be here!”
“Ivy.” The golden flame around his head rose higher. “You must.”
Younger Me screamed as she saw Mom hanging in the doorway. I didn’t look.
Instead, I yearned to hug her. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Mommy! Mommy!”
Tears fell down my eyes as I watched her piss herself.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
The door opened. My father rushed in there with Saint and Holly at his side.
“No!” I shook my head at them, forgetting that they couldn’t hear me. “Don’t look! Turn around! You’re too young. This isn’t going to be good for you two.”
Saint saw my mother and pointed. Holly screamed and ran away. Not wanting to be in the living room, I headed after her.
The ghost roared. “Ivy!”
“You can’t make me stay.” I walked through the doorway. But I didn’t go outside. Instead, I entered my grandmother’s old living room. I froze and looked around. “What?”
The glowing ghost came to my side.
I fisted my hands. “Am I in hell or something?”
“I really would like you to stop saying things like that.”
“Sorry. I don’t want to be here either.”
“We must.”
My grandmother walked into the living room and wiped her hands on her apron. “Ivy! Come on, baby!”
Younger Me walked in, but she wasn’t so tiny anymore. She was much taller. Small breasts pushed against her pajama top. “Ma’am?”
Grandma hugged her and then leaned away. “Aren’t you going to open your presents? It’s already the afternoon now.”
Grandpa walked in and smiled at Younger Me. “You’re going to make Santa sad, girl.”
“There’s no Santa, Grandpa.”
Shock covered his face. He held his hand over his chest and frowned. “No Santa? That can’t be right. Sheila, is that right? I wrote that fat, white man a letter to make sure the Yankees win. He better come through.”
“Oh, sit yourself down on that couch, old man.” Grandma laughed. “Ivy, you have so many presents under the tree. Pick one and open it.”
Younger Me turned to the tree and shook her head. “Ma’am, can I do something else? Please.”
A sad expression covered Grandma’s face. “What do you want to do, baby?”
“Draw.”
Grandma sighed. “But you’re always drawing. Wouldn’t you like to—”
She shook her head.
Grandpa took out his newspaper and started reading. “Just let that baby draw. I like seeing all those pretty dresses she creates. Draw Grandpa a pretty dress, Ivy. Make it black and white with stripes just like the Yankees uniform.”
Excitement hit her face. “I sure will.”
Younger Me ran off.
Grandma watched her and kept her voice low. “She may never get over it.”
“Give Ivy time. It’s only been two years. Last year, she didn’t even come out of her room on Christmas day and surely couldn’t look at the tree without urinating on herself.”
“She woke up in the middle of the night screaming.”
“Last night too.” Grandpa turned the page. “It’s going to take some time.”
“Why would Gloria hang herself in front of the tree like that and on Christmas day? So selfish. So
wrong. She always only thought of herself. We never raised her that way. We taught her to be better.”
“Gloria wasn’t selfish. What was the word that therapist used?”
“Codependent.”
“That’s right. Gloria just found herself in a codependent relationship. Toxic.”
“And full of the devil. That’s who told her to hang herself like that. Nobody but the devil.”
Grandpa coughed and lit his pipe. “I believe Gloria thought Sam would see her first, not Ivy. He was supposed to be back that night, but he ended up being with that whore until the morning and arrived late.”
“It’s a tragedy.” Grandma shook her head. “They both have made a mess of poor Ivy’s life. A pure mess. And he had the nerve to try and fight us for custody, when Ivy can’t even look at him without screaming, Murderer. Lord help us. Now we’ll have to do our best to clean this mess up.”
Grandma turned to Grandpa. “Bill, you done dropped your pipe and got all this stuff on the floor. . .”
Grandpa never responded. The newspaper lay on his chest. His hand dangled over the chair’s arm. His head leaned back into the chair. His eyes were open along with his mouth.
“Bill. . .” Grandma hurried to him. “No, baby. Bill?”
“Get me out of here.” I walked down the hallway. “I’ve already seen this. I don’t want to be here.”
The glowing man called after me. “Ivy?”
“I’m leaving. I might as well get this nightmare over with.” I opened the front door. Swirling red energy filled the doorway. Tears left my eyes. I didn’t walk through. I just stood there.
The glowing man appeared next to me and touched my wet cheeks. Instead of wiping them away, the tears left my cheeks and floated in the air. They sparkled like stars. The swirling red energy sucked them in.
“Do not cry,” the glowing man said. “We never die. That particular life just ends.”
“But it’s sad.”
The glowing man nodded. “It is. But you’ve gone places that many haven’t already. You’ve come here. Surely, you see the beauty in death.”