Crisp, white snowflakes showered the streets outside the Lodging House as Racetrack lay on the floor of the main room next to Les. Somehow, Race had gotten stuck with waiting up for Santa that evening. None of the older boys wanted to, and they drew straws; Race lost. Kloppman helped Les make a fort out of blankets and pillows, and Les had dragged Race inside.

"Do you REALLY think Santa's gonna come tonight? Huh? Do ya, Race?" Les asked excitedly, bouncing up and down, tugging on Race's shirt sleeve.

Race grumbled to himself and made a mental note to soak David later. "Uh-huh," Race answered blankly. Les looked up at Race, grinning.

"Momma said he might not come this year because times are bad. But if you say he is, then I believe ya." Les chirped happily. Race rolled his eyes. What he would give for a cigar now.

Les smiled and humming "Jingle Bells" to himself. Race dusted off the snow from his clothes and sat down next to Les on the couch. The others were upstairs sleeping and Kloppman was in his office.

Sighing, Race lit a cigar and slouched, bored out of his mind. Little did he know, Les had stopped humming and was intently staring at him. Race looked over at him. "What?" he asked flatly.

Les tilted his head. "I'm bored." the little boy said, fidgeting.

Race raised his eyebrows and then nodded. "That makes two of us." Les squirmed in his seat a little while longer. "Racetrack?"
Les suddenly called.

Race looked over at the small boy. "Yeah?"

"How long has it been?" Les asked, swinging his arms.

"About five minutes," Race replied through closed eyes. Maybe a nap would pass the time.

Les squirmed more and then gave a long sigh. "How long now?"

Race opened one eye, annoyed. "Are you going to keep asking me this?"

The little boy shrugged. "I haven't been away from David this long. And I don't like being downstairs in the Lodging House alone in the dark. I'm not sure I like this."

Race looked over at the tiny boy.

"I'm with you!" he said, as if it were super obvious. Les thought it over and shook his head.

"I still feel alone."

Race rolled his eyes. "Look, the doors are locked, there's a lantern on Kloppman's desk, and you sprinkled perfectly good carrots outside the fort so we could hear the bears and elephants creeping towards us. What do you want?" he asked, irritated.

Les was silent. "How long now?" he asked out of the darkness. Race groaned and buried his head in the pillow.

"I give up." he mumbled to himself. Les sat up and crossed his arms.

"You think this is funny, don't you?" the little boy asked, his eyes narrowing.

Racetrack turned to face the younger child. "No, I think it was a mistake."

Les tilted his head. "What?"

Race pulled himself up. "I think it was a mistake to wait for Santa with you." The tiny boy did a teeny frown.

"So why did you do it?"

Race thought. He didn't want to tell the child he lost a bet. "Because...because you're my friend's little brother, and if you can't stay up to wait for Santa with your friend's little brother then what's the use of living?" he lied, fake smiling.

Les pouted. "That doesn't make sense." he grumbled. Then he looked up at Race and grinned. "You mean your excited to see Santa, too?!"

Race raised an eyebrow. "...Sure..." he said, after a long pause. "I'm so thrilled it's getting illegal." Les didn't notice the sarcasm in his voice and beamed.

Then the little boy frowned. "But...I'm scared. Are you scared, too?"

The older boy found this as an oppportunity to scare Les into going back upstairs so he could finally get some sleep and not have to wait for "Santa."
"Not yet. But in just a minute," Race said, grinning.

"Yeah?"

"In just a minute when I start thinking about the terrible, bloody things that could be crawling around our fort right now..." Race said, smirking.

Les's eyes widened. "Race, stop it." he said, covering his ears.

"The aliens could be lowering their space ships on the Lodging House this very minute."

"Race..." Les's voice quivered as he begged the older boy to stop.

"The ghost of Ebenezer Scrooge could be stabbing our fort right now with a razor-sharp cane, while Spot Conlon drips blood all over our-"

"Stop it! What are you doing?!" the little boy cried. Race pulled out an imaginary newspaper.

"Reading the Journal..." he relied, smirking. Les shoved him playfully.

"Racetrack, stop it."

Race shook his head. "Oh, c'mon, Les. You're supposed to get scared in life."

Les wiped his eyes. "That's stupid. You're never supposed to get scared."

"Now that's stupid. You're supposed to get scared, it's a law." Race pressed, nodding.

The little boy looked up at him. "Right..."

"No, really. It's like a commandment in the Bible or something." Racetrack put out his cigar. "Your first date with a girl, ya gotta be scared. The day ya get married, terrified. There's no way around it. Strikes, look out kid, I'm talking night of the living dead." Les gripped the teddy bear he was holding tighter.
"And the very worst..."

Les's heart raced. His eyes widened. "Yeah?"

"BROOKLYN!" Race whisper-yelled. Les hid under the blanket, whimpering. Racetrack burst out laughing.

"That's not funny." Les said, sniffling.

"C'mon, Les. Scare me." Race said, a devilish grin on his face.

"What?"

"Tell me something really gross."

"No." Les said, inching away.

Race rolled his eyes. "But you gotta. That's a law, too. I'm telling ya, it's like part of the Constitution. You see a good-looking girl, ya gotta show off. When you gotta sell extra papers, ya gotta feel miserable. Ya go to Medda's, ya gotta make too much noise. I'm serious, it's biological. So, go ahead."

Les sighed. "But-"

"SCARE ME!" Race poked him.

"AGHH!" Les yelled, making Race jump back. Race wiped a tear from his eye.

"You did it! You did it, kid." Race said, a bit surprised himself.

"I did, didn't I?" Les felt very proud.

"And I'm proud of ya, kid." Race patted him on the back. "Ya know, if ya do that more often, you'd-" Race paused. "What was that?" he asked.

"Huh?" Les asked, looking around nervously.

"You didn't hear it?"

The little boy squirmed over next to Race. "Yeah, but I was hoping I was wrong."

"What was it?"

Les gripped Race's hand tighter. "I don't know. What does a bear sound like?"

Racetrack pulled Les closer to him. He really did hear a thud. "Smaller, I think."

"A python?" Les gasped.

"Bigger..."

Les's face turned white and cold with fear until he was shaking. "A murderer?"

Race hugged Les closer to him. "Yeah, that's about right..."

Les burst into tears and buried his face in Race's shirt. "Race!"

Racetrack held onto Les tighter. "Um, okay, it's gonna be fine..." he stuttered, trying to be brave for the little boy.

"I gotta look." Les said, walking over to the opening of the fort.

"What?! Are you crazy?" Racetrack screamed.

But Les was already crawling over to the opening, and peeked through. "I see a foot!" Les cried.

"Oh God!"

Les crawled out a little more. "And it goes up, and up, and up...until it reaches...!"

"Holy crap! Don't tell me!" Race yelled.

"...Kloppman's face..." Les finished, his voice regaining its normal tone.

"AGHHH...oh." Race said pathetically. "Hehe."

Kloppman whispered something to Les, and the little boy nodded and turned to Race. "He says to keep it down, the others are trying to sleep."

"Oh,"

"And he wants to know what all the carrots are doing all over the floor."

Race shot Les a glare. "Oh." Les smiled innocently.

"And he says if we keep making too much noise, he'll kick us out of the lobby."

"Oh."

Les waved goodbye to Kloppman and crawled back to Race. "He's going back to bed now."

Race rolled over and closed his eyes. "Goodnight, lil' Les."

Les smiled. "Goodnight, Race." Then, silence. Finally, Les said, "Race?"

"What?" Race mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"How long have we been here?"

Race sighed. "About fifteen minutes."

Les then squirmed even more before sitting up. "Race?"

"Yeah?"

"Scare me." Les said, as the older boy rolled his eyes.

"Les?" Race mumbled, annoyed.

"Yeah?"

"Go to sleep."