10 Holiday Stories

by Dara Girard

  Marina's heart started to race and her breathing became shallow. Had she failed again? How could that be? “I did what you told me to. I picked up a woman matching Aunty Helen's vague description. I even asked her her name.” Marina paused remembering the incident. She hadn't really asked her name. She'd just said “Aunty Helen?' and the woman smiled and she assumed it was her. “Wait a moment.” She ran into the kitchen where the woman was cleaning up her soup with a warm slice of bread. Aunty Helen?”

  The woman looked up and smiled.

  “You are Aunty Helen?” Marina repeated to make sure.

  She continued to smile.

  Could she have the same name as the other woman?

  “Mom, she seems fine.”

  “Describe her to me.”

  “She's small and about eighty something. She didn't have the proper clothes for the weather and had only one bag.”

  “Aunty Helen isn't over sixty.”

  “Why didn't you tell me that before? You said she was the grandmother of one of your friends.”

  “Not all of my friends are my age. You know that. You should have been more careful. Why are you getting irritated with me? You're the one who picked up the wrong woman. If she were an old woman I would have said Big Mummy not Aunty. Why don't you pay attention to these things? And you should have known I wouldn't send you to pick up someone who doesn't speak English.”

  Marina rubbed her forehead. Listening to her mother's criticism but only hearing 'you're a failure, you're a failure, you can't do anything right.' “I don't believe this.”

  “Give her the phone.”

  Marina held out the phone to her. “Aunty--uh Big Mummy--my mother wants to talk.”

  The woman nodded and took the phone. She responded with quick fast replies. Her voice was soft and deep, oddly soothing, but Marina couldn't decipher the meaning. The old woman then handed the phone back.

  “Why didn't you give her the phone?” her mother demanded when Marina returned to the phone.

  Marina squeezed her eyes shut. “What are you talking about? I just did.”

  “Is she deaf?”

  “No. She spoke to you. I heard her. She didn't answer much, but she did speak. I didn't understand her though. It didn't sound like Yoruba. She spoke, but I didn't understand her.”

  Her mother paused. “You see her? Is she still there?”

  “Yes. Where else would she be?”

  “Oh no,” her mother said in a frightened tone. “I've heard of this but...”

  “What?”

  “My dear are you sure you're feeling okay? Have you been eating and sleeping properly?”

  “Yes, I'm not crazy.”

  “Lack of sleep can cause hallucinations.”

  “I'm not hallucinating.”

  “Or it could be something worse.”

  “Like what?”

  “You picked up a or bloody hell what's the English name for it? I'm not sure they have one exactly. Oh yes...witch.”

  Don't be daft, she wanted to say, but bit her lip. Her parents believed in both traditional and native religions. “She's not a--I just made a mistake.”

  “Maybe you should just go back to sleep. If she's still there then get rid of her as fast as you can. Take her to the police and be careful.”

  4

  Marina took her new arrival to the police station. “I could really use your help,” she said to the clerk at the front desk, a woman with finely shaped brows and fading lipstick. “I have an older woman here who's lost. She doesn't seem to speak English and I don't know where to put her.”

  “Okay. Where is she?”

  Marina turned and nodded at the woman, whose feet barely reached the ground. “She's sitting right there.”

  The clerk looked in the direction Marina gestured to and frowned. “Where?”

  “Right there,” she pointed, not understanding the other woman's confusion since there was no one else there.”The woman right there.”

  “What woman?” the clerk said suddenly cautious, licking the rest of her faded lipstick from her mouth.

  Marina turned and saw the older woman flash a strange smile. “You don't see her?”

  “Do you need somewhere to stay?”

  “No, I'm fine.”

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “No.”

  “Taking anything?”

  “I'm perfectly lucid.” At least I think so. Her mother's suggestion was playing with her thoughts. It couldn't be. How could she have picked up a witch? They didn't exist. Not like this. They weren't invisible. Then why couldn't anyone else see or hear her?

  She turned to the woman. “Why are you doing this to me? At least say something.”

  Her smile remained.

  “What have I done wrong to deserve this?”

  The clerk cleared her throat. “Why don't you just take a seat? I'll get someone to help you.”

  Marina spun around and glared at her. “I'm not crazy.”

  “Of course you're not,” the clerk said in an indulgent tone.

  Marina was about to take umbrage with her tone when a man came from around the corner. He looked as if he'd had a worse night than she'd had. He hadn't shaved in a while and his tie had the crooked look of a man who just didn't care. If Marina had been in the mood she would have noticed that he was good looking, in a rugged way, but she just didn't care. She wanted to get rid of the old woman and go back to sleep. Or wake up from this nightmare, whichever was faster.

  “Idris what's the name of the local shelter?” the clerk asked.

  “It's going to be pretty full,” he said. “What's that other lady here for?”

  The clerk stared at him stunned.

  Marina jumped with joy, wanting to grab his sleeve but refraining. She wasn't imagining things. “You see her too?”

  He sent her an odd look. “Of course I see her. She's sitting right there. How could I miss her?”

  The clerk shook her head. “Idris you've had a long night.”

  “I know.”

  “There's no one there.”

  “Maybe you need a rest. It's two to one.”

  “There's one way to decide this.” The clerk took out her phone and took a picture. Then she grinned with triumph. “I'm right.” She turned the image to them. They saw the wall and an empty chair.

  Marina turned to the woman then the image on the tiny screen. “I don't believe this.”

  “There's something wrong with your camera,” Idris said.

  The clerk took the phone and tucked it away. “It's Christmas Eve and it's a crazy night, weird things happen. I think you two should just go home. “

  The older woman leaped to her feet. “Yes, it's time,” she said in perfect English. Then she grabbed Marina's hand and Idris's.

  “What are you doing?” Idris said.

  “You speak English?” Marina said at the same time.

  They both looked at the woman then each other with a mixture of fear and awe then their world went black.

  5

  When Idris Helmond came to, he didn't know how to feel. One moment he was thinking about closing a case on the brutal beating of a gas station attendant and finding the right gift to make his girlfriend, Deena, happy. She was pissed about something, but that wasn't new. She was always pissed about something and she wouldn't tell him why, she'd only let him know he was the cause. Then he'd seen the pretty young woman trying to find shelter for an older woman who looked strangely cunning.

  He didn't know where he was or what to think. He looked around him and saw the neat road and manicured lawns of a neighborhood. The place felt familiar. He looked around and spotted a house--It was his sister's house. Beautifully decorated for the holidays. But he knew it wasn't like that now. That house was no longer hers. The scene was from three years ago. He shook his head in rising dread and took a hasty step back. “No, no. What are we doing here?”

  “You have to be here,” the older woman said.

  “No, I don't
. I know what happens. I don't need to be here. Let's go.”

  “Idris.”

  He threw up his hand, his voice in a near panic. “I said I don't want to be here.”

  “What is this place?” Marina asked.

  “It doesn't matter, let's go.” But the woman wouldn't release her hold and she had the strength to keep him there. “Get us out of here whoever--or whatever you are,” he said in his best 'or you'll regret this' tone.

  But the older woman didn't release him.

  He turned and saw a woman march up to the front door as if on a mission. She flipped through the many keys on her keychain before she got the right one. She placed the key in the lock then turned the handle with an angry twist. “No. Don't go in there. Please.” He turned to the older woman, feeling as if he could no longer breathe. “Make her stop.”

  “I can't.”

  “Then why did you bring me here?”

  “Haven't you been playing this scene over in your mind for three years? Haven't you already remembered and replayed every detail? Isn't this the reason you won't see your nephews? Why you make excuses not to visit your parents every holiday season? You're here because this is where you're stuck. This is where you stopped your life too. Your sister got twenty-five to life, but you're living a life sentence by staying in a job you hate because it makes your parents proud. Staying in a relationship that is soulless. You chose this. When are you going to get past this moment? A moment that will never change?”

  “She shouldn't have had keys to his place. Why did it have to happen? She was my baby sister and I couldn't stop her. “

  “No. She was a woman who'd made a choice.”

  “I gave her the gun to protect herself.”

  “She used it for something else. Your sister couldn't except that her ex had remarried, that he'd created a new life for himself. Just like you, she couldn't move on. She was convicted because she hadn't snapped. She decided to pick up the kids early. She decided to catch her ex with his new love and she decided to shoot them both dead.”

  They heard a scream and then three pops.

  “You couldn't have stopped it,” the older woman said.

  Idris fell to his knees, losing all strength, as if he'd been shot too. The awful part was the guilt. Her husband had been his best friend. He'd felt the loss from the divorce too. His sister had been married to Nathanial for ten years and he'd been a good father to their two sons. He'd been someone Idris had admired. He'd expected Nathanial to be his best man one day. He'd seen them as the perfect couple until the cracks began to show.

  He remembered his brother-in-law complaining about his sister's drinking and shopping sprees. He remembered Nathanial getting full custody of the children. Idris understood the judge's ruling, his sister had become unstable, but he still had divided loyalties, even though it was best for the boys. His parents had remained blind wanting to see their precious little girl as the victim and Nathanial as the villain. But he knew it wasn't as black and white as that. Just like his nephews, his world had been shattered that day. He'd buried someone who'd been like a brother and lost his sister too. She was still bitter, even in prison. She still blamed the system for not understanding her rage. His parents blamed him for not seeing the signs sooner. For somehow not stopping it.

  “The season had nothing to do with her choice,” the older woman said.

  “Really?” he said with a sneer. “You know the rates of murders go up around the holidays?”

  “Was it the holidays that put the liquor down her throat or the gun in her hand?”

  “She snapped because she felt so alone,” Idris said trying to rationalize something he knew he couldn't. “She felt disconnected. It's a season that feeds discontentment. Domestic violence cases practically sky rocket. A time of good cheer my ass. People find even more reasons to hate each other.”

  “Remember when you and Nathanial took your nephews sledding? Remember the time when you both laughed at the instructions for putting together a racecar track? You had joy. That joy was real. It's okay to love your sister and hate what she did. Your friend wouldn't want you to throw away all the good times just for this moment. You have to get past this.”

  “I don't know how,” he said his voice raw. He glanced at the younger woman, who stood motionless beside the other woman, wondering why he'd chosen to share this nightmare with her.

  “You can do it by looking at this place one last time. And saying goodbye.”

  “My parents blame me and his parents won't talk to me.”

  “You shut Nathanial's parents out of your life as much as you have your nephews. And they miss you. Don't let the memory of their father die. You don't have to replace him. But make his life mean more than his death. Don't let your sister's bitterness rob you too.”

  A purple fog quickly swept over the scene and soon they stood in front of Nathanial's grave. A light dusting of snow fell from the blanket of white clouds, but Idris didn't feel cold. He didn't feel anything. He brushed the snow from the headstone then gathered some and let it melt between his fingers. He remembered introducing Nathanial to his sister and the instant attraction between them. He remembered his sister telling him about their first date. He remembered their wedding day and visiting the hospital when Nathanial held their first son and the pride and joy on his face.

  Tears filled and stung his eyes as he recalled the fights, the tense phone calls, the divorce proceeding and then his sister's conviction. Both he and Nathanial had been detectives, determined to help and serve others, but hadn't been able to fix their own lives. Idris tasted the tears though he didn't feel them streaming down his face. “I'm so sorry,” he said, then he felt the cold against his skin, the wetness on his cheeks. He felt his loss, his rage and his despair.

  “He's forgiven you,” the old woman said. “He wants you to know that. Now you have to forgive yourself.”

  Idris wiped his tears then fell to his knees feeling like a broken man. “I can't.”

  “Because you're afraid. You're afraid that if it couldn't go right for him, it won't for you. So you won't even try. But you're wrong. You can have the life you want. You know Nathanial knew there were signs early on that the relationship wouldn't work. He told you some of them but he chose to ignore them. I'm not saying he's responsible, but there are gray areas that none of you could see. Some you didn't want to see.”

  Idris nodded. “I know.”

  “Now say the name of his favorite holiday song.”

  “No.”

  “Say it, then say goodbye.”

  He shook his head. “It's stupid.”

  “Say it anyway.”

  He sighed. “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.”

  Marina giggled then covered her mouth embarrassed, but Idris heard it anyway and couldn't help a smile. He'd forgotten she was there and he felt awkward that she'd seen him at such a fragile time. He was used to keeping his emotions bottled up, but when he looked at her, he didn't feel that she was judging him and that made his awkwardness disappear. Made him glad he wasn't alone. “The idiot,” he said with fondness. “He loved that song and knew all the words. He'd hum it just to annoy me.”

  “Sounds like a fun guy.”

  “He was. He loved the holidays. Everything about it.”

  Marina kneeled beside him and tentatively took his hand, half expecting him to pull away. “I'm sorry.”

  He squeezed her hand and released a deep shuddering breathe, as if he'd been holding it a long time. “Thanks.”

  “Do you really hate your job?” she asked.

  “Yes, every single day I feel like I'm dying.”

  “Then why don't you change it?”

  He sent her a look of surprise. “You think it's that easy?”

  “No, but it's better than feeling like this.”

  “Tell her what you want,” the old woman said.

  He stood and dusted snow from his trousers although he didn't need to. Although the ground was powered with snow, his
trousers remained dry. “No.”

  “Are you afraid to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell her later then.” The old woman turned to Marina. “Now it's your turn.”

  “I guess I don't have a choice,” she said with a grimace before their world went black.

  6

  After seeing Idris's past, Marina prepared herself for a painful holiday memory. So when she saw the sight of her old bakery kitchen she couldn't help her surprise. She stared at the sight of the woman she'd been four years ago. The kitchen was small, all her new equipment that Eli would encourage her to purchase hadn't filled the room yet. She saw herself stirring something in a bowl and humming. She then scooped the contents into a tube and decorated cookies with a flair of fun. Her efforts weren't perfect, but she didn't seem to mind. Marina gaped at her younger self with wonder. She didn't remember even being that happy.

  “What are we doing here?” Marina asked. “I already know I'm going to fail. I already know this isn't what I'm meant to do.”

  The old woman held up one finger. “Just wait.”

  Marina folded her arms, feeling impatient. She didn't want to wait. She wanted to leave. She wanted to go back to sleep and forget this day ever happened. She was about to comment to the fact when Eli walked into the room. Eli the man she'd thought she'd loved and who she'd thought loved her and her dreams. The man who'd told her he'd support her through thick and thin. The one who'd later embezzle her funds and leave her heart broken.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Working on a new icing.”

  He frowned “You're still trying that?”

  “I want to make it work.”

  “You're wasting your time. Why don't you just focus on what will make money?”

  For the first time Marina noticed how he hadn't greeted her and how much he didn't look pleased. Why hadn't she seen that before? He was only about making money. He didn't care what she did. He didn't care about her passion. She loved baking, she'd forgotten about that. She'd let him douse her hopes and leave an empty shell.

  But the younger version of herself didn't know this. She gave him a taste of the icing.