A/N: I know I should be working on my other chapter stories, but Christmas spirit came onto me, and I decided to write this. Please let me know if you guys like it, because if you do, I thought I could extend this into a one-shot Christmas series. For this chapter, I imagined Johnny to be eleven years old.
Johnny shuffled along the curb of the street, listening to the crunch of snow underneath his beat up shoes. It didn't snow very often in Tulsa, but unfortunately for Johnny, there was snow trickling down from the onyx sky. He could feel the wet snow seep into his sneakers.
A sudden chill ran up Johnny's spine. He tried to zip up his sweatshirt higher, but it couldn't go up anymore. He didn't have time to grab anything warmer. His parents had kicked him out, on Christmas Day.
Johnny had dropped a glass onto the floor. He didn't mean too, but when he turned to grab a plate out of the cabinet, his elbow knocked it over the ledge. The glass shattered into tiny shards that spread out onto the dirty tile floor.
"What the hell was that?" His Mom yelled from the couch, where she was chain-smoking her third cigarette.
"It's nothing, Ma."
"This is nothing? Pick that up." She pointed to a sliver on the floor. "You destroyed my kitchen."
"I'm sorry Ma. I'm picking it up as fast as I can."
"Get down on your hands and knees to pick up the glass. I want this kitchen to be sparkling by the time you're down. You better clean up before your father gets in," she whined.
As if on cue, Johnny's father sauntered in through the back door, a can of cheap beer in his hand. He reeked of alcohol. "Did you just drop this glass on the floor?"
"I'm sorry. It was an accident," Johnny said, trying his best not to cut his hands from the shards of glass. He could feel his father's hard eyes glaring at him.
"Like hell it was an accident." In one swift motion, Johnny's old man strode across the floor, grabbed Johnny's wrist and yanked it back. Johnny knew he would have a bruise tomorrow, but he thought it was best to not say anything when his father was in a mood like this.
"Do you think I'm made of money?" Johnny's father growled. "That I can afford to replace everything you break? I give you such a good life. You have a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food for you to eat, and this is how you repay me? By damaging my property?"
"I'm real sorry Pa. It won't happen again."
"Damn right it won't. Get out my house, now!" Johnny's father became enraged.
Johnny hurried out of the house and out onto the cold Tulsa streets.
There was no one out on the streets on Christmas. It was frosty, icy, and snowy outside. Why would anybody want to be out on the roads when they could be inside their warm house, with their warm dinner, surrounded by family?
"I'll probably have to go back tomorrow," Johnny thought out loud. "Or maybe not. It's not like they'll care."
He wandered around the streets, not really having an agenda in mind of where he'll go. The sweatshirt he was wearing was not made to withstand temperatures this low. After the cold froze his fingers, he decided to go to the Curtis household. He felt bad crashing their party, but he really had no place to go, and was scared that the temperature was dipping too low to be spending the night outside.
Through the curtains, he could see the silhouette of Mr. and Mrs. Curtis sitting on the couch, with the boys playing at their feet. He knocked quietly on the door.
Mrs. Curtis answered. "Oh Heaven's dear, come in, come in." She wrapped her arm around his frail shoulders, and guided him over to the couch. "Let me get you some hot cocoa and Christmas cookies."
"They're so good," Soda said, talking with his mouth full of cookies.
"Mama makes them the best," Pony added. "But she won't tell us the secret ingredient."
"I have to have some secrets now," Mrs. Curtis said, patting Johnny on the shoulder. He bit into a sugar cookie decorated like a snowman, and it was delicious.
Mr. Curtis leaned back in his recliner, watching the boys play and laugh. He eyed the Christmas presents under the tree that his boys had torn into this morning. Admittedly it wasn't much, but Darrel did what he could. Although, he had a feeling that one good, little boy didn't get anything for Christmas.
"Hey Johnny, can I see you outside for a moment?" Mr. Curtis said. "Take my coat."
Johnny quietly obeyed, wrapping Mr. Curtis's thick coat over his tiny frame. "I'm sorry if I ruined your night," Johnny said, joining Mr. Curtis out on the porch stoop. "I'll leave if you want me to."
"No son, you didn't ruin our night. The more the merrier. You know you're always welcome here."
"Even on holidays?" Johnny asked.
"Holidays, weekends, middle of the night, whenever you want." Mr. Curtis gave Johnny a warm smile. "Now Johnny, answer me honestly. Did you get any Christmas present tonight?"
"No sir," Johnny mumbled.
"Mrs. Curtis and I got you a little something to open." Mr. Curtis gave Johnny a box with green wrapping paper and a red bow. "Go on, open it."
"Mr. Curtis, I can't accept this." Johnny's mouth was agape. The last gift he got was a shirt from his Mom for his 9th birthday. They forgot his 10th. He never received a present that was actually wrapped.
"You didn't even open it yet." Mr. Curtis chuckled. "Everyone deserves a present on Christmas, especially you Johnny."
Johnny gingerly tore back the paper and put it aside. He opened the box to reveal a brand new jean jacket. He ran his fingers over the material. This was the nicest piece of clothing that he had ever laid his eyes on. "This is too much. I really can't accept this."
"Well it ain't going to fit me, so I guess you got to keep it. Try it on," Mr. Curtis said.
Johnny slipped the jacket on, and it was a perfect fit.
"I'm glad it fits you. You need a nice jacket to keep you warm, okay?" Mr. Curtis nudged him playfully, eliciting a smile from Johnny. "Now what do you say we go back inside and have some more cookies?"
"Sounds good to me." Johnny said, hungry for more cookies. Maybe this Christmas wasn't so bad after all.
