12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2018

by Isabella Kole

  He inched through another intersection, exhaling with relief when he recognized the road sign. But then, he lost control completely. The car slid, and he overreacted. It turned and turned. He slammed on the brakes, forgetting that that was the worst thing to do on slick roads. The car continued to spin. Packages shifted. Some toppled in his lap. One hit him pretty solidly on the head – probably the yellow metal truck. Finally, the car slammed into something and stopped. The air bag exploded.

  Jonathan wasn’t sure if he maybe even lost consciousness for a moment, but it couldn’t have been long. He spat bits of airbag from his lips. He couldn’t move, and worried if maybe he’d broken something, but quickly discovered it was just that his seatbelt had locked. He pressed the button to push his seat back, which it did only under heavy protest as more packages shifted. Then he could loosen the seat belt and get out to inspect the damage.

  He’d hit someone’s truck, an F150. People weren’t supposed to park on the streets during a snowstorm. This person would regret not moving their vehicle in the morning. But on closer inspection, there didn’t look like there had been much damage to the truck after all. It was an older truck, from back when they were made of solid steel. The newer aluminum ones crumpled up with the smallest fender bender, which this should have been. He hadn’t even been going the posted speed limit of 25, the roads were too treacherous for even that.

  His car was a sight. One entire side was smashed in – the passenger’s side, where Kelly would have been sitting. She could have been killed, or at least, seriously injured. Jonathan felt a sour taste in his mouth. He grimaced, trying not to vomit. He took deep breaths through his mouth, in, out… He was alive, and she was fine.

  He’d been warning her about riding a bike through the snow, but he could have killed her if he’d insisted she ride with him and wear a seat belt. Just went to prove that accidents did indeed happen, and you never could prevent them all. It didn’t excuse her recklessness, but he would try to be more tolerant in the future.

  But what could he do now? His car wasn’t going anywhere. After all Kelly’s hard work, all she’d done to try to make this Christmas special for one needy family, he’d ruined it. Even if he carried the presents one by one, he couldn’t deliver them all to their house before sunrise, but he could at least try.

  He called the police to report the accident. They weren’t going to send anyone out in this weather, but made a note of it and took his information. They asked him to come by the day after Christmas to fill out the report, and he agreed. Then he took two baby dolls and headed off down the road. He felt a little shaky, but thanks to Kelly, he was toasty warm.

  Kelly finished drying the snow from the bike, and handed the towel back to Consuela. She took the big bow someone had attached to the handle bars, and put it back on, then arranged the bike behind the tree, where Alberto could see it, but the little ones wouldn’t pull it down on top of themselves.

  Consuela shook her head. “It is too much, I tell you. The bicycle is too much. You should take it back.”

  “I can’t do that,” Kelly said. “You should have seen how much joy those people had, getting these things for your children. It would break their hearts.”

  “But why me? There are others in need. Why are you doing this for me?”

  “I don’t know the others,” Kelly said. “I met you, and I like you. I want us to be friends. And I’m at a point in my life when I can offer you help. When I was really little, we were the ones getting help. My dad worked for a small company that manufactured windshields. When the major car companies in Detroit had their cutbacks, a lot of small businesses went belly up. We received state aid until Daddy got a new job, almost a year.

  “So, where is Jonathan anyway?” Consuela said, changing the subject.

  Kelly could tell she was upset by the gifts, but she hoped the proud woman would enjoy them anyway. “I don’t know. I thought he’d be here ahead of me. I’m kind of surprised he didn’t pass me on the way.”

  “Do you think something happened to him?”

  Kelly bit her lip. She didn’t want to think it, but it was possible. She regretted that she hadn’t insisted they take her SUV. She at least had all wheel drive. She didn’t know what his car had, but she doubted it even had snow tires. She tried calling his cell phone, but again, he didn’t answer. Probably the snow was messing with reception. “I’m going to go look for him,” she said, zipping up her jacket.

  “I can help you look,” Consuela offered.

  “No, stay here with the kids. But text me if he gets here. I’m more likely to get a text than a phone call in this weather.”

  Consuela nodded. “I will light a prayer candle for both of you.”

  Kelly smiled. “We’ll be right as rain then. See you soon.”

  She walked down the silent, snow covered street. The tracks she’d made with the bike were almost completely buried already. She walked past the Aunt Millie’s factory that always smelled like freshly made bread, and turned down Portage. It was strange to see the usually busy street devoid of any traffic. Not a single car had been down in quite some time. The snow lay thick and undisturbed. Most people were snug in their beds, she thought, momentarily wishing she were there as well. But then she thought of the little children, and their bright smiles on Christmas morning, and she picked up her pace.

  She hesitated at the next intersection. She usually went down Allcott, to avoid the busier streets, but Jonathan might have taken Cork, which was more direct. Nothing was entirely direct in Kalamazoo. The Kalamazoo River meandered through the city, causing most streets to bend and jog in all sorts of crazy directions. She chose Cork, and quickened her pace yet again.

  Wouldn’t the dogs love this? She breathed in deeply, feeling that familiar excitement run through her veins. A perfect snow, a perfect evening. If only there were enough time, even Jonathan would like the run tonight. The dogs couldn’t get as much speed when creating a new trail on freshly fallen snow. But they loved the snow, and their excitement was contagious. There wasn’t much wind to make the passenger chilled either. Usually, the heaviest snows came without much wind.

  There at the other end of the street was a single person walking towards her. He was carrying two children – no, baby dolls! It was Jonathan. But why was he walking? What happened to his car? Probably stuck in a snowbank. She didn’t care. He was here, and he was fine. She raced towards him, slipping and sliding on the slick sidewalks until she heard him bellow at her to be careful. Slowing down to take giant steps, she continued towards him, and he hurried to meet her. Then they hugged, and kissed, squishing the baby dolls between them.

  “I crashed the car,” he blurted.

  “I was worried about you,” she said at the same time.

  They laughed, and then kissed again.

  “But, we still have all these toys to deliver,” Jonathan pointed out. “And we’ll have to carry them. I’m about two miles away. It’s going to take us all night to get this done.”

  “No, it won’t, silly,” Kelly said, shaking her head at him. “My dogs will make the delivery. And you’re coming with me.”

  Jonathan slapped his forehead and gave her a sheepish grin. “I never thought of that. Of course! We’re not delivering vaccines, but our cargo is just as precious.” He’d googled dog sledding after meeting Kelly, and read about the famous Balto, the Siberian Husky that lead his dog sled the last 53 miles to deliver the diptheria antitoxin to Nome, Alaska back in 1925.

  “We’ll have to run them a bit first,” Kelly explained. “They are so excited to run. But if I let them go for a mile or two, then they’ll settle down, and we can load up the sled with the toys.”

  “You’re the boss,” Jonathan said. “You know best.”

  She grinned, pleased that he trusted her judgment. He’d been so overprotective in the past, that she had expected an argument.

  Half an hour later, they had made it to her house, petted all the dogs, and gotten them into their harn
esses. At first, they started to bark like crazy, but a few gentle commands quieted them down a little.

  Zeb had told them not to let the dogs get all worked up in the first place. A good pack leader maintained order. Still, they hadn’t had enough lessons to be really trained. They still pulled at the ganglines. Only a solid tie out rope, and Jonathan standing on the brake pad with all his weight, held the sled from disappearing into the night.

  At last, six dogs were harnessed. Kelly had left Blue inside, explaining that it was too far for him to run along side. He howled his displeasure through the window. Kelly instructed Jonathan to be ready to jump into the basket of the sled. She snapped the tie rope loose, took his place on the brake pad and told him to move! Jonathan toppled over the handlebar, landing in the basket in a heap as the dogs took off.

  They tugged hard. The sled moved, but it didn’t zip like it had on the groomed trails at the fort. They would go faster without a passenger too, but this wasn’t about speed. It was about cargo. She sometimes entered her dogs in weight-pulling competitions, so they wouldn’t think all dog sleds were light.

  “So, what do you think?” she called to Jonathan.

  He turned his head and asked her to repeat it. “This is great!” he answered then. “The only way to travel.”

  She ran the dogs down Burdick, Kilgore, then Lover’s Lane, before she felt they’d calmed enough. She asked Jonathan where he’d crashed, and directed her team there next. When she got to the car, and saw what a wreck it was, she was stunned. It was totalled. The entire passenger side was crumpled. If she’d been in it, she would have been killed. It was a sobering thought.

  “I know, I know,” Jonathan whispered, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m so grateful you weren’t in the car. I’m so sorry, so sorry that I’ve tried to wrap you up in bubble plastic to keep you safe. I promise to trust your judgment more. Thank God you weren’t in that car with me!”

  “But you were. Are you really all right?” she blurted.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Frightened, and I’m going to have a killer bruise on my shoulder from the seat belt. But I’m fine. Now, let’s get this done.

  She tied the team to the Ford’s front bumper, then helped Jonathan load presents on the plastic sleds that had been purchased for the children. She produced large, black trash sacks to hold the presents and keep them dry, which she tied to the sleds with bungee cords. When all five sleds were loaded (there wasn’t a sled for the baby) she told Jonathan to sit in the basket of her sled, and hold their ropes. She released the anchor, and called, “Hike! Hike!” Her team stood, shook the snow from their fur, and trotted off down the road. They weren’t running now, but looked almost like they were prancing, lifting their feet, wagging their tails, and yipping occasionally as if to say, “What a wonderful night!”

  There was a large maple tree in Consuela’s front yard. Kelly tied the team to that, while they brought the bags of presents and the toy sleds inside.

  Consuela complained again about the amount of toys, but eventually her complaints turned to tears of gratitude. She hugged the baby dolls, cradling them. The bikers had made a point to buy dolls with black curls, brown eyes and darker skin. She sobbed. “I always wanted to give nice things to my children,” she said. “But there was never any money for it. He always had money to buy booze, but we didn’t have enough to buy milk or bread for the children.”

  “That’s in the past,” Kelly reminded her. “We’re going to focus on the future now. And you are going to have a happy future. I just know it.”

  “I wish I’d known. I could have made some doll clothes for them,” Consuela said.

  “And so you will. Just not tomorrow,” Kelly said, laughing.

  Jonathan cleared his throat, indicating a trash sack with a slight nod. “I’m really getting hoarse,” he said to Consuela. “You wouldn’t happen to have some tea or a cup of cocoa, would you?”

  “Oh, such a night to be out! You’ll catch your death, and it will be my fault,” she muttered. “Come along, we’ll see what I have. The children might have finished off the cocoa, but I might have some wine. Or you could have tea.”

  “Wine then,” he said. “Kelly, what about you?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’ll get something when we go home.”

  Jonathan followed Consuela into the kitchen.

  Kelly quickly took the KitchenAid mixer from the sack and carried it to the tree. She set it down carefully, and tucked it under the branches, arranging the boxes around it. Only a few more packages remained, and she had them all under the tree by the time Jonathan and Consuela returned.

  She handed the empty trash sacks to Consuela. “You’ll probably need these tomorrow, when the kids unwrap all this stuff. I bet it takes them less time to unwrap, than it took us to wrap them.”

  “That’s for sure,” she agreed. “And then, they’ll probably play with the empty boxes the rest of the day!”

  “Good night, Consuela,” Jonathan said. “And thank you, for letting us share this Christmas with you.”

  “You’ll be here tomorrow, won’t you?”

  “No. You should spend this time with your family.”

  “But you are like family now. Alberto even calls you his brother.”

  Jonathan smiled. “All right, we’ll come by for dinner, but you have to let me bring something too.”

  “You can bring some chocolates. The children have nearly finished off all those cookies we made. We’ll see you around five-thirty then. Merry Christmas, and… thank you. Thank you very much.”

  Jonathan gave her a hug, before hurrying Kelly outside. He was about dead tired on his feet, and they still had the trip home.

  The dogs raced home, rejuvenated by their rest under Consuela’s maple. It had been too funny. They’d curled up into little balls, their noses tucked under their tails, while the snow continued to fall. It landed on their backs, their heads, nearly completely burying them in a blanket of white until they were just so many lumps of snow. But as soon as Kelly stepped outside, they perked their ears, stood and shook off the snow, all ready to run again. They really were amazing animals.

  Kelly suggested he try manning the sled, since the dogs had had a lot of exercise and weren’t as rambunctious. He stood on the brake pad that dragged on the ground between the runners. Kelly released the brake line, and jumped into the basket just as the dogs bolted. Jonathan almost fell off the runners, but he’d hooked his elbow through the handlebar, as he’d seen Kelly do, just in case. Then, as the dogs settled into a steady pace, he was able to stand. He bent his knees slightly, occasionally “pedaling” – pushing the ground with a foot, like he was riding a scooter.

  The silent snow continued to fall, but not as heavily now. The flakes were huge, the size of silver dollars. They floated so gracefully, dipping left, then right, as they zigzagged their way down. Earlier, he had heard music emanating from some of the homes, but now they were silent. Their windows dark. The world was asleep. There was only him, his girl, and their dogs. It was almost magical.

  When they arrived at Kelly’s doorstep, the dogs were unusually quiet, as though they, too, did not want to spoil the special moment. Kelly released them from their ganglines and let them inside, harnesses and all. Jonathan stowed the sled in the shed in the backyard. He’d wipe it down tomorrow. Then he joined her inside.

  The harnesses lay all over the floor, discarded like yesterday’s laundry. He picked them up, shook off the excess snow, and hooked the back loops over a hanger. He hung the hanger on the laundry room door. Several dogs were sprawled on the green couch. Two more had taken over the easy chair. One was asleep on an actual dog bed, while the remaining dog, Blue, was lying in the middle of Kelly’s bed. Jonathan smiled, shaking his head. A year ago, he would have shuddered at the thought of sharing a bed with a dog. But now, it seemed as normal as breathing.

  Kelly’s clothing was also scattered on the floor. The jacket first, a few feet away, the snow pants. Then each layer as she’d pe
eled it off, in a damp heap. He picked them up and tossed them in the laundry room as well. Some day he might scold her, or spank her, or insist she pick up after herself, but not tonight. Tonight was for joy. He was so happy, he could barely contain it. He’d survived a car crash. She hadn’t been in the car. Life was good!

  Several candles flickered in the bedroom when he entered. He drew a deep breath. The scent of pine and cinnamon colored the air. He sat on the edge of the bed just to gaze at the beautiful woman waiting patiently for him.

  “Everything all right?” she asked.

  “Perfect.”

  She smiled. “Then come to bed and let me look at you. I want to touch every inch of you, and make sure you’re really okay.”

  He chuckled. It was only fair; he’d wanted to do the same to her after each of her injuries.

  Slowly he stripped out of his clothing, tossing each item on the floor like she had done. She was a bad influence on him. Then he endured her gentle poking and proding.

  She found the bruise on his shoulder, just as he’d predicted. He’d seen enough of them in the hospital, but had never had one before.

  When she was completely satisfied that nothing was broken, she stopped and just gazed at him. “Tonight was really special, wasn’t it?” she murmured. “I don’t want it to ever end.”

  “It won’t,” he promised. “We’ll keep the memories with us forever.”

  “It was almost like a fairy tale. A happy story with a happily ever after.”