FanStory.com - Home for Christmasby EeanBlack

Sitting alone at the end of the bar, I have already finished a very good, and strong, long island iced tea, heard some good ole' classic song, and checked out the woman at the other end of the bar. She and I are not interested in each other. But, I am feeling good.

The music is loud and the lights are low. Except for the Christmas lights thrown all around the place. They're so bright you could land a 747 right on the end of the bar. My kind of ambiance. If I only had a girl. Not a looker in the place. Except the lady at the end of the bar, but we already know how that went. No worries.

It's this place itself, that gets me. It's on the North East coast, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of winter. Why did I accept this sales appointment anyway? I don't need the money. I don't like the cold. My boss loves me. She would give me any any appointment I ask for. But, I didn't ask for this one. She asked me. She said, "Mikey, this is a low to no sale situation. I just feel that someone or something needs you there to sell something to them. Do you even understand that?"

"I do understand that, Monica, but I get the Southwest Region next quarter, or I'm done."

She agrees, knowing she will never give me the Southwest Region. I agree, knowing I will never see the Southwest Region, and we hang up. Period. Why do I do this to myself. I'm very good at my job. I can work anywhere. I'm just too nice of a guy. It gets me nowhere.

I find that being a nice guy doesn't always translate well to others when you are getting drunk, though, and, I AM getting drunk.

I know what's really bothering me, but I would never admit it to anyone else. I'm, just lonely. It's Christmas and I'm on the road, again. No family, no friends, just nobody. But, I'm a salesman. There is no rest for me. These samples won't sell themselves.

Well, they're gonna have to tonight, I'm getting shit-faced.

"Barkeep, give me another one of these!" I can feel the belligerence building, fighting to get out. I can never hold my alcohol. I feel a fight coming on. "Barkeep!"

"Dude, if you yell barkeep at me one more time, I'm throwin' you right out on your ass."

Bullshit, boy, I've been bouncing bouncers since before you even learned how to, well, bounce. Besides, it's Christmas. Everybody's getting loud. Besides, he doesn't know who he's messing with. "Oh yeah. Barkeep!"

So, not only does he not know who he's messing with, he also doesn't care. I didn't actually bounce, while being bounced from the bar, I kind of skidded on my head and shoulder, and rolled over onto my ass. You know, that part of me I just showed to the world to actually get thrown out of this bar in the first place. Yes sir, I'm pretty good at that. "Stop looking at me lady, it takes a lot of effort to get rolled up in this position!"

Getting to my feet wasn't too difficult, but walking to my car is proving to be a pain in my ass, literally. I have slipped and fallen on the ice twice already, and yes, you know my chosen set of landing gear. Those two very firm, little butt cheeks. Thank God I work out. They ARE cold and numb, and still covered with snow, but still firm, or are they just frozen? I don't even know, now. Oh, the things you think of when you're drunk.

Somewhat sober NOW, I pull my keys from my pocket, unlock the door, and enter my car. I have remote start, but I can't manage to push the correct button. I can set off the alarm and make the lights flash, the wipers move, but I can't make the engine start by just pushing a little freaking button. So, now, I have to sit and let my car warm up. It's probably for the best, though. It gives me a chance to be even less inebriated.

*****

Feeling sober and ready to go, I pull out of the bar parking lot and onto the frozen, but empty street. I head in the direction of my motel; when a grumbling in my gut forces me to find a convenience store. "Yeah buddy, a couple of stale burritos to wash down all that beer I'm gonna drink, perfect."

I pull into the store parking lot and park by the door. I kill the engine, and, as I exit my car, I turn and use my remote start, just in case. Got it. I leave the engine running and I don't lock the doors, I'm only going to be a minute.

I set the six-pack, yes, a six-pack. of beer on the counter.

"Is this really all the beer you have?"

The attendant never even acknowledges me, but, I am persistently annoying, as usual.

"What do you have for hot snacks, man?"

The attendant looks at me coldly, then motions to the only hot snacks in the place. On a dirty little hot dog roller, were three very greasy, overcooked hot dogs glistening under a very dirty glass cover. They look nasty and dangerous, but, a man has to eat. I got all three, with some stale, dry buns and some rancid-smelling condiments to go with them. Don't worry, my tolerance is high. I've been eating like this forever.

Ringing up the dogs and beer seems daunting for the genius behind the counter, so I begin looking around and notice something very strange for this weather, for any weather, for that matter.

A little boy, about seven or eight years old enters the store. It's eleven o'clock at night, there is a foot of snow on the ground, the temperature is well below freezing and a little boy enters the store, alone.

I know, it happens all the time, but this little boy is wearing nothing but pajamas. More importantly, there are no other cars in the lot. This boy has walked from somewhere all alone, in the cold, at night, in his PAJAMAS!

The boy runs down the bread aisle, grabs a loaf of bread and a liter of soda, and sprints out the door into the cold night. Now, to me that IS odd.

"Did you see that?"

"I didn't see anything, man."

"You didn't see anything, really?"

"I said I didn't see nothin', man."

"Whatever, dude. Just ring my shit up."

The attendant finally rang up my purchase. I pay and head to my car.

*****

I pull onto the road and again head toward my motel. I'm glad I've sobered up because these roads are so packed with snow. I'm also glad I'm sober because I have the opportunity to experience the most beautiful array of Christmas lights I have ever seen. Every building, every light pole, every sign is lit to perfection. I have a moderate amount of Christmas spirit myself, but this town, this town is lit, except for the guy at the gas station. I think he is more burned out than lit, and the "BARKEEP". That dude is a serious Christmas party pooper...period. He harshed my buzz in a wink.

I pull into my motel parking lot to see even more decorations and lights. "Okay, that's a little overkill. That Santa must be ten feet tall."

"Mister." THE VOICE is tiny and timid, but it is a true and wonderful little voice. The crackle in it sent a chill down my spine. It's one of those moments where you know you are now sober and really wish you weren't.

I turn around to see the most beautiful, but small boy wearing pajamas, eating bread, and drinking soda in my back seat. I wasn't startled, but I was a little bewildered.

"How did you get in my car, little man?"

"It was unlocked, and I was cold, and the man at the store, he-"

"That man! Boy, I don't think you'll ever have to worry about that man."

"Yeah, he's pretty stupid. I'm sorry I got in your car, sir. I was cold."

"I think I'm okay with that. It's you bein' out here all by yourself that's got me worried. Are you feeling warmer, now?"

"Yes sir. I made a mess of your car though."

"We ain't gonna worry about that. I gotta guy."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir."

Yeah, I have a guy. Me! I'm the guy that's going to clean up your little mess. It must be the season because instead of getting angry, I felt the need to find out about the boy before I called the authorities. I know, I know, keep your feelings out of these things. But, I'm really starting to like this kid, and it worries ME too.

"Why are you out on a cold night like this by yourself, and why aren't you wearing any clothes?"

"I got clothes on."

"You got pajamas on."

"They're clothes, ain't they?"

"They are clothes, boy-"

"Mister, can you take me home? My momma is sick and hungry. I need to get back to her."

"Your momma is sick. Sick from what, little guy?"

"She's sick from the bottle, sir."

Man, this just ain't gonna get any better, is it?

"I think, maybe I should take you to the hospital and get somebody to check on your mother."

"No, mister! I told you my mamma's sick. I need to get home now!"

"Calm down little man, I'm just trying to help you, man."

"I can't leave her. I gotta get home now. Please mister, now, please."

He beaks down to nothing and I am truly on my way there also. I have to get a grip on myself, for both our sakes.

I have never seen so much anguish coming from a little child before. I decided to go and check out this increasingly strange situation. We will worry about the authorities later. I admit, this isn't me. I'm normally more pragmatic, but this boy has me intrigued. To be honest, he's kind of adorable, and now I just NEED to know.

*****