Chasing Christmas

by Steven Hunt

  “That woman over there?” She pointed to a lady sitting on a bench across the huge park. “She used to be a college professor. She joined us after her boyfriend got drunk one evening and nearly beat her to death. She maintains that he was a good man; he just had a bad night. Two days after escaping him, he placed a bounty on her. Can you believe that? This man was willing to pay someone to kill her just to be rid of her. Come to find out he has political aspirations and any leak of their affair could jeopardize his chance of being elected to a higher office. Now she stays with us so she might live.

  “I could do this all night. That man was an accountant—he still has plenty of money. That woman was a soldier and is the mother of three. The couple over there angered her father, who vowed they would be together over his dead body. Each of these people has different circumstances and many could leave this life behind, but they choose to stay for their own personal reasons.

  “Sure, we have our share of criminals, we have the too-lazy-to-work, we have those that are lame or handicapped, and we have the poor. But like the real world, we have the good also.”

  Teddy skimmed his pants with his hand. Grimy. If Christy had not intervened on the train, he could have easily been one of these people. With very little money in his pocket, he would have been reliant on people like Yebo.

  He scolded himself for hastily judging her. Not only did she have the knowledge and experience to teach lessons of hope, she was an expert.

  She continued, “Do you remember when you were a child, Teddy? Every need was taken care of by your parents. You had a house to live in. You had food on the table three times a day. You had a warm bed to sleep in. Everything seemed perfect. You felt protected.”

  He nodded. Portions of the same conversation he’d had with Ezi flooded his mind as thoughts of his parents’ deaths brought bittersweet memories. Any occasion to create new memories died with them. Regret at not spending more time with them suffocated him.

  “Life was simple. The only thing required of you was to be a good boy, do your homework, and act respectable.” Yebo stood and, with her arms outstretched from her sides, she slowly twirled around. “This life is just like that. It’s a simple life. We’re carefree to roam wherever we want. We don’t have the need for lots of money. We have places to sleep—they may not be the warmest, but they’re dry. Our biggest concern is when our next meal will come, but it always works out. We may skip a meal now and again, but we have yet to starve. We’re protected by the other members of our ‘family’ just like when we were children. And all we have to do is trust the Truth.” She stopped spinning to face him.

  “But how can you fully believe that—?”

  “Like the deer and birds you recently saw, all of our needs—not desires, but needs—are provided to us by the Truth.

  “How did—”

  Yebo cut him off. “What time is it?”

  Teddy glanced at his watch. “It’s almost four.”

  Yebo snatched his hand, yanking him off the bench. “We have to get back to my house. Now!”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t ask questions. Just run!”

  22

  “What’s the rush?” Teddy eked out, gasping for oxygen. It hadn’t been a long sprint, but the suddenness of it all had caught him off guard. And Yebo’s urgency concerned him.

  “It’s an unwritten rule…street people have to be…at their homes…by four o’clock…or anyone can…claim the house for themselves.” Yebo managed to say, trying to catch her breath. She inhaled deep before blowing it out slowly. “Like a homesteader. Since we don’t have a court specifically for the homeless there isn’t any recourse for the original homeowner to complain.” Back at her ‘house’ she plopped down on a makeshift chair of plastic milk cartons held together by duct tape. “For you—someone who will eventually be returning home, it’s no big deal—but for me, I need to protect the things with which I’ve been blessed.”

  Teddy slid down the brick wall, sitting on the alley floor. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to go home ever again.”

  Yebo jerked her head toward him. “Why would you say that?”

  Teddy picked up a stick and played with a small pebble near his knees. “I’m not sure I’ll have a home to go to.”

  “What do you mean?” The confused look on her face produced wrinkles on her forehead. Seconds later the wrinkles dissolved. “Oh, I get it. You think you either won’t pass the lessons or that your wife has moved on to another man. And a home without loved ones is not really a home, is it?” She looked at him several moments before asking, “How does that make you feel?”

  “Feel?” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know if I feel anything. I’ve been numb for too long.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Everyone feels.” Yebo said. “So quit the pity party, and tell me how you feel.”

  Was she really going to force him to examine his emotions? Hadn’t it been his feelings that accelerated the depression into a catastrophic event in the first place? Hadn’t his feelings caused the cursed cloak to wrap around him for months? And allowed the fog of confusion and doubt to govern his thoughts? “I’m sad, but I’m not quite sure why.”

  “OK. Tell me more.”

  “This is hard for me to admit, but I want to cry when I think that I’ll never see my wife and daughter again. I know that doesn’t sound manly, but it’s the truth. And it scares me to think that I’ve only a short time to be rid of this blasted depression, or I’ll never see them ever again.”

  “It’s not unmanly for a man to cry. That’s rubbish. A man who is able to cry is more of a man than one who suppresses his emotions. It’s a matter of the heart. I’m not saying to go blubbering around every day, but celebrating true emotions is honorable and liberating. Everyone has feelings, and no one should be ashamed to display them. It’s the way we were made. Even the Bible says that Jesus wept. And it takes a very strong man to do what He did.”

  She continued to watch him. “OK? So what are your hopes?”

  “What does that even mean—hope?”

  “Maybe learning the progression of hope will help you understand. Let’s see…”she said while scratching her temple. “Suffering produces perseverance—or the will to continue—perseverance is needed to overcome life’s difficulties. Let’s look at your depression as suffering—which it is. Through this suffering people become determined to overcome the feeling that depression holds on them. I know you have a desire to overcome your illness since you’re here doing what needs to be done. However, you see it like this: You think that if you can eliminate the cause of your suffering, the depression will go away. That also is rubbish.”

  He tossed his stick down the alley. “Then what do I do if I can’t eliminate the cause of the depression?”

  Yebo shooed a fly away from her leg. The flies were thick around the trash dumpster. “You embrace it. Perseverance builds character. A person who overcomes the challenges of their life is stronger for it. The will to succeed builds integrity and honesty. Character builds hope. And hope comes from believing in a positive outcome. A hope that doesn’t come true breaks the heart, but a longing that is fulfilled makes a person feel alive. And when that hope becomes reality, confidence is nurtured. Because of this depression, Teddy, you will become a more confident man; confident in your abilities; confident in your beliefs. Confident in the Truth.

  “People who are labeled as being shy are not really shy, they just lack confidence. Sometimes that confidence is built through situations such as yours, sometimes through other events in their lives, and sometimes it is never obtained. The opportunities to cultivate confidence are there if the life challenges are met head-on and sureness is sought.”

  She swatted at another fly. The fly zoomed away at the last moment, milliseconds before Yebo slammed her hand against her leg. She winced. “You are one of the lucky ones. Once this sickness is defeated, you’ll be a new man. Filled with honesty, integrity, confidence, and hope. Not many people receive suc
h a blessing.”

  “Are you saying that my depression is actually a blessing?”

  “Absolutely—as long as you battle it instead of giving in. You will treasure the reward.”

  “Huh.” He scratched his head while thinking about her philosophy. He’d never considered embracing his depression as a learning tool to make him a better person.

  Yebo stood. “If Yebo said it, you can count on it.” She smiled. “I think that’s enough for tonight. You need to get your rest. Rest will give you the strength to overcome.”

  “What’s happening tomorrow?” An image of paint cans and brushes darted through his mind.

  For a brief moment, a look of concern and a glimpse of grief crossed her face. Her brow puckered as she wrung her hands. As quickly as the apprehension had gripped her, it was gone. “We’ll just have to wait to see.” She forced a smile.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What?” She waved her hand as if pushing away her previous thought. “Oh, that? Don’t let it concern you.”

  “But if it concerns you, isn’t it something that should concern me also?”

  She ignored his question. “Now, I bet you’re wondering where you’ll sleep, eh? On the side of my home you’ll find a second opening. It’s hidden so other people won’t trespass, but it’s there.” She turned to look at her home. “You wouldn’t think by looking at this combination of cardboard, wood, nails, duct tape, and string that it’s actually a two room dwelling, would you?”

  Without saying another word, Yebo pushed back the blanket that served as her main door and disappeared inside.

  “I guess that’s it for tonight.” Teddy mumbled as he pushed himself to his feet. “No goodnights or sleep tights or don’t let the bed bugs bites.” He stood at the side of the cardboard house, searching for the hidden door. “And bed bugs—or other types of bugs—might just be a problem.”

  Sleep evaded him as his mind tossed and turned. Something bothered Yebo. She had looked…terrified.

  23

  “Are you ready?” Yebo had dressed much like yesterday with one exception; now her dress with the floral pattern had been replaced with a sky blue frock. She stood next to the same park bench where they’d eaten their dinner last night.

  “Ready for what?” Teddy said as he scooped the empty coffee cups and wrappings from their breakfast off the park bench into a brown paper bag. Breakfast had consisted of a fried egg with cheese and Canadian bacon on an English muffin, coffee, and an orange from the community center.

  “To learn about hope, of course. That is the reason you’re here, is it not?”

  “I thought that’s what we were doing yesterday.”

  She waved her hand. “Nah. We were only making conversation. Today is the day we put all that talk into practice. What good is believing without action?”

  Didn’t Ezi or Christy say something similar? A pattern started forming. “All right…” Teddy looked around for a clue as to what she’d have him do. The park appeared the same as it had last night. Still too early for the moms, dads, and children to arrive since the sunrise only just started warming the overnight freeze from the metal benches in a flourish of glowing light.

  “Here’s what I need you to do.” Yebo sat next to him. Her hazel eyes focused on his. “Across town, in the central market area, you’ll find a man. He’ll be near the statue of Stonewall Jackson. You’ll know him by his scruffy hair and green army jacket. He’ll have a small silver locket. You need to get that locket from him.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Know what?” She sneaked a glance behind them.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Huh?” she asked as she turned back to him.

  “You keep looking over your shoulder. I know you said people living on the street must be alert for trouble, but there’s no one within forty yards of us. So what’re you looking for?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. What were you asking?”

  “I asked how you knew this particular man with this particular locket would be in this particular market area by this particular statue. It seems you have all the details.”

  “Oh, that. Someone told me.”

  “Was this someone Christine?”

  Yebo slowly nodded as her eyes closed.

  “When? I’ve been by your side every moment except…You saw her last night!” He sprung to his feet.

  “Yes.” Yebo opened her eyes, but refused to look at him.

  “Why didn’t you come get me? I was—” He about said right next door. The thought sounded crazy, so he instead said “—close.”

  “I wanted to, but she said it would only confuse you, and she wants you to focus on your lessons without unnecessary distractions.”

  The chance of proving that Christine and Christy were the same person had slipped away. He shook his head as he marched in circles. Christy had told him that she looked different to different people, yet the similarities were just too hard to ignore. He could only wish for another opportunity. Teddy faced Yebo. “So, you’re looking for her. That’s why you keep checking over your shoulder.”

  Yebo ignored his comment, continuing with her instructions. “In this market area, by the statue, you’ll find this man. He has a locket—”

  “Wait. If this is a typical market area, how will I be able to find one particular man in an army jacket? I’ve been to farmers’ markets where every other man wore a military utility jacket. So, if this open-air market is busy at all, there could be hundreds of green coats. Thousands of people go to these things. Especially at Christmas.”

  “It’s not as the name suggests. They call it the market because the area is lined with shops. Clothing stores, food stores, antique stores. You get my point. The city fathers couldn’t quite call it a square—even though it is one—because this town already has a town square.” She waved her arm around the park, demonstrating her meaning. “It would be too confusing to have two town squares.”

  “It’s still confusing.” He snatched the sack of trash, crushing it into a small ball. “To call a square by any other name is ridiculous. Like my grandfather used to say, ‘If it looks like a skunk, smells like a skunk, it’s probably a skunk.’”

  “Regardless, you need to find this man and retrieve the locket.”

  “You’re the woman with the facts. Do you know this man’s name? That would help narrow the search. Otherwise, I might be searching for a jacket in a hay stack.” He turned away from her as he mumbled, “A needle might be easier to find.”

  “And is this man going to just give me the locket?” He turned toward her. “Perhaps there’s a phrase or word to let him know I’m the one he’s supposed to give it to? And what am I to do with it once I’ve gotten it?”

  Her tone turned stern. “I think you’ve misunderstood. You’re too consumed with the proper names of squares and other unimportant things. I said there will be a man there, but I did not say he knows you’re coming. And he probably won’t just give up the locket—especially to a complete stranger.”

  “What? Then how do you suggest I get it from him? You don’t mean steal it, do you?”

  “No, he needs to give it to you willingly. That’s where hope comes in—you know, belief in a positive outcome? I know this is only a small test, and we were speaking of hope on a grander scale last night, but this will have to do. You’ll get the picture.” She looked over her shoulder again.

  “It doesn’t seem too small to me,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  He waved her question off. “What if he won’t give it to me?” Her reaction from last night now made sense. “This is what you were afraid of last night, isn’t it? You were concerned because this could be dangerous. If this guy misinterprets my asking for the locket as a threat, I could be in deep trouble. Is that it?”

  Yebo drove her gaze to the ground. The look on her face reminded him of the federal bankruptcy judge he and Frank had to appear before on their failed business. Disappointment
in her inability to help.

  “Yes,” she said with sadness in her voice. “But this is what you must do. I don’t have any control over these tests. If you return without the locket, you will fail this lesson. And you know what’ll happen if you fail. I’m sure your Christy told you the consequences of not passing, right?”

  Teddy nodded. Death.

  “You can see the importance of collecting this locket—at least what it means to you.”

  He nodded again as he sat next to her.

  Yebo continued. “The history of the locket will be crucial while speaking to this man, so I’ll tell you what I’ve been told.” She scooted closer to him. Her voice became soothing without losing any authority. “Thirty-five years ago this man burglarized a home far from here. Why he selected this particular home, I don’t know. What I do know is that a young girl lived in this house, and he took the locket from her. It’s only a simple, inexpensive locket, but to her it was special. Her daddy gave it to her before he died. She loved her daddy, and she loved the locket. To her the locket was more than a piece of jewelry; it was a part of him. When the thief stole it, he stole a part of this little girl’s heart.”

  “Were you the little girl?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know the little girl?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know what the locket looks like? How can I be sure he gives me the right one?”

  “I’ll know. Bring it to me and I’ll verify it’s the correct one.”