#reading this right after factory fire post and ok ok there's still some faith left

[anthonybtimmons]

This was my first Foray into writing anything with a Christmas theme. I usually am drawn to horror and anything dark, so this was a first for me. it was written in December of 2009. I’ve been told it’s not too bad. And if I Should Wake.

(Originally posted on 12-23-2009, At 6:30 PM. PST) It was snowing again, there was something different about it this time though, there was a touch of wind that carried it through the night air, and there wasn’t much traffic at that hour. At least not the kind in automobiles. The shop lights were all growing slowly dimmer and dimmer, and as the days business concluded, one by one the lights would go out and everyone would go home. He would watch as the people would shuffle down the street each fading slowly into the night until there weren’t but a scant few left to fend for themselves after the world had locked itself away until morning. He would search for hours on end for just the right person, for just the right moment in time, it had to be perfect or he would get caught. And he didn’t want that, going to jail wasn’t how he’d choose to spend the night. 

He wasn’t even sure he could concentrate to the point that he could appear desperate enough to pull it off. But the burning emptiness in his belly would convince him otherwise. He walked some two blocks past Harbor street, past the Mission district for what seemed like hours to find just the right target. Until there almost around the corner, he found what he was looking for. He quickened his pace until he was almost close enough to size up his prey. He could only see him from behind but he could tell from just the slightest glance that he was bigger than most others that he would make an attempt on. The revolver in his pocket suddenly felt heavy, his palms sweaty. He grunted almost involuntarily until the man in front of him took notice and stopped walking. He began to turn around. He was robust, round even, yet seemed strangely muscular, his hair and beard were both long and white and his eyes were a piercing blue. He cocked his head to one side and gave him a puzzled look.

He slowly pushed his hands in his pockets as he carefully studied the nervous young man in front of him. Looking him up and down. Until he saw the revolver slide free from under his tattered coat. he drew a deep breath and paused before speaking.

“Man- I don’t want to shoot you. I just want your money,” he told him.

He didn’t answer.

“Look, man. It's nothing personal. I’m just cold and..”

“What happened to you, Freddie? How exactly did you become cold and hungry?”

He stepped backwards two steps and gave the older man a surprised look. His deep calming voice softly echoing down the street. Stunned, the gun in his hand slowly lowered towards the snow-covered ground.

“D.Do I know you?” He asked.

The older man smiled.

“No.. But I know you. But then again, I know everyone.

”He shook his head as if trying to wake himself from a bad dream. Slowly raising the gun again.

“Ok man, You know me? Tell me who am I?” he smirked. “But I gotta warn you man if you're wrong? I’m going to kill you and take your money and.. And maybe even that fancy coat that your wearing too.”

The older man once again pushed both of his hands into his pockets and sighed deeply.

“Alright. that’s fair enough I suppose. Your Frederick Ernst. Your 26 years old, and you’ll be 27 in March. You live at 208 East Emerald Street, and eight months ago you lost your job at the local paper factory, you exhausted your entire savings within three months time, and when your money ran out, so did your live-in girlfriend Jane Clarkson taking your four-year-old daughter with her.”

He stared at him in stunned disbelief. His eyes blinking with uncertainty. The snow began to fall harder the temperature seemed to drop within seconds. He looked up at the older white-haired gentleman, who was merely staring at him patiently.

“Shall I continue then? Very well.. For the past two months you’ve been covering the rent whatever way you can, panhandling, petty theft. And then two weeks ago you found that gun in an alley no more than seven blocks from here. But we both know that you’ve never fired a gun in your life, and your not likely to any time soon. In fact, this is your very first attempt at armed robbery.”

He leaned forward, his face no more than a foot from Frederick Ernst’s, his blue eyes seemed to reach into his very soul. Freddie looked up at him.

“So how do you know that I won’t pull the trigger?”

He smiled.

“It wouldn’t do you much good if you did. After all Freddie- I’m no expert. But it seems to me that it would be pretty hard to kill someone with a weapon that isn’t even loaded.”

He cocked his head to one side, his eyebrows slowly raising. Slowly the older man extended his hand palm up. Without hesitation, Frederick Ernst gently placed the gun in his hand.

“So tell me Freddie. In your own words- how do you suppose that you ended up here?”

“I dunno. I guess I just made some bad choices. I didn’t want things to end up the way they did.. they just sorta did..”

He motioned for Freddie to sit down on a bench below the bus stop sign, and then sat down beside him.

“You know Freddie. It isn’t always the choices that we are sometimes forced to make that make us bad or good. Its what’s in your heart and the size of your conscience. Oh- Sometimes we stray, lose faith in ourselves. Lose faith in others. But none of this necessarily makes you a bad person.”

They sat watching the snowfall. no cars, no other people to speak of, just the two of them. The older man slowly lifted his wrist up in the air and leaned forward under the street light to look at it. He turned his head and gave Frederick Ernst a sideways glance.

“Hmmmm. Its almost 12:00 AM.. Do you know what day it is Freddie?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I dunno.. Wednesday I think..” He answered.

“No Freddie.. I mean the date.”

“I dunno.”

“Why as of 12:00 am its officially December 24th, Christmas Eve.”

He stared down into the gutter. His eyes began to blink uncontrollably.

“You know Freddie.. I have a feeling that things are going to turn around for you real soon.”

“Yeah right.. Look at me man. I’ve sunk so low I just tried to rob a total stranger just to buy food.”

He Smiled.

“With an unloaded gun.”

They both gave the vision some thought and began to chuckle.

“Go home, Freddie. Rest on it. Sleep. And when you wake up I’m sure you’ll find that this was all merely a bad dream.”

They both rose to their feet and Frederick Ernst turned to walk away.

“It would take a miracle to wake me up from this nightmare.”

“Freddie?”

He stopped to look back over his shoulder at him.

“Its almost Christmas.. Christmas is a time of miracles.”

He heard them calling his name, something softly tugging at him, pulling at his arm. Waking him. His eyes slowly opened, he was home. Sleeping in his bed. He turned to face the new voice. The four-year-old girl's eyes were full of awe and wonder.

“Daddy!! Wake up!! He Came!! He Really Came!!”

He turned over to see the beautiful face of Jane Clarkson. He sat up in bed abruptly. Almost completely lost in shock.

“I think she got up before the sun did.” She Smiled. “but bless her heart, give her credit, she didn’t want to open one present without her daddy there.”

Dazed, he stumbled out of the bedroom and into the living room where there stood a towering beautiful Christmas tree. He slowly sank down into the recliner and as soft as a breeze he could hear a strangely familiar voice roll across the back of his neck.

“We’re all part of someone’s miracle Freddie in some way or another, after all, it’s Christmas. And Christmas is a time of miracles.”

He sat for what seemed like hours staring out the window at the snow-covered world outside. The commotion of an excited child still fresh in his ears until Jane Clarkson once again tugged at his sleeve.

“Honey? I don’t know where this one came from it was under the back of the tree.. It has your name on it.”

She handed him a small golden box with a bright red ribbon tied around it. he untied the ribbon and removed the lid. Inside wrapped in delicate tinsel was a single bullet with a note that read; “Don’t look back.” ~S~. his daughter appeared at his feet and crawled up onto his lap.“I love you daddy.”

“I love you too baby girl.”

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2009~