Christmas Bells Are Ringing

The snow was melting into a puddle of slush under his feet as he walked. With every step, the slush just turned into a puddle under his feet. His work boots were soaked through already and it hadn't been snowing for very long. Daryl hated this time of year, the holidays, and everything about it. His mother had died in a house fire on Christmas Eve when he was seven years old and since then, he had refused to celebrate or have any holiday cheer.

Merle was home sleeping off a bender from the night before and as the temperature declined quickly he knew he needed to get home soon or freeze to death in this unseasonably cold weather. They were predicting a white Christmas and Daryl was predicting he would be drunk before Santa loaded up the sleigh for all the other kids.

Both of them drank to forget all the pain, but it was never enough and sometimes he just wanted to disappear into oblivion. It would be easy, especially on a night like this, to just step off the cub in front of a bus.

Santa never came to his house, not even before the fire and now, well he was thirty-six years old and knew what a bullshit story it was anyway. Everything was bullshit really and he was really done with it all.

He had worked all day and now it was five thirty at night, dark as fuck and he walked home from work with his head down, as usual. His life consisted of going to work in the town factory, coming home and either drinking at the bar with Merle or drinking at home. It was predictable, that's all, but nothing that he would call good.

It was an existence only, nothing more.

The church bell rang in the distance and he knew, because he lived here all his life that the candle light services were starting soon. He remembered going with his mother when he was young, as she prayed for a better life for them, he hoped she got it, somehow, somewhere.

Daryl and Merle simply had been left with their abusive father after she was gone, and he died five years later in a car accident. Surprisingly enough, the old man had left them a hefty insurance policy, and with it Merle and Daryl had purchased a house at the edge of town, almost in the woods.

But he had also left many scars on them and some that they couldn't recover from.

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She left her husband on Christmas Eve after he punched her in the face for the last time. She had burned the roast, and he went berserk. She had seen it coming all day, Ed was on edge and she just knew. She had to be very good at reading his moods, because she always paid a price if she didn't.

It was different this time though, she didn't cry silently in a corner, like she usually did.

Carol picked up the roasting pan and dumped the entire thing in his lap, then she hit him over the head with the pan. He was out cold and now she was in the wind. She had taken their only car, his, and she knew he was going to go even more nuts.

She sped away into the night, planning to put as many miles as she could between them as she could. Her radio played Christmas songs as she drove and smoked cigarette after cigarette, wondering how she could have snapped that way.

Carol had a black eye, a Christmas present from Ed, and not the first. But she swore it was the last he would ever give her. He was never going to touch her again, never again.

She didn't know where she was going, just away from him, far away.

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The little town was sweet and quaint, a good place to spend the night she supposed and as she drove down the main street she was given no choice, when her tire blew out. She slowly pulled over and got out of the car, it was snowing lightly, which was odd for Georgia and it was cold.

She was momentarily angry, until she thought about it. Yes, this was just her luck but still, it was better than where she had just come from. She kicked the tire and let loose some profanity and found she felt much better.

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Daryl saw her pull over and get out of the car, he also heard her yell 'Goddamit,' and he smiled. She was a firecracker, that one, and not afraid of cursing on Christmas Eve. She was a woman after his own heart, if he had one, which he didn't believe that he did.

Daryl likened himself to the Grinch at this time of year, but even the Grinch wouldn't leave a woman stranded alone in the dark, would he?

He turned and looked at her across the street and found himself stepping of the curb, the bus sped by and he realized tonight wasn't the night he would step in front of it. Maybe tomorrow.

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Carol watched the man coming towards her, he didn't look like a serial killer, but he was wet and dirty. She didn't suppose she had a choice, surely he had a cell phone, because she had thrown hers away in South Carolina so Ed couldn't track her with the GPS.

Sure enough he pulled out a cellphone as he approached her.

"You need help?" He said, "I can call you a tow."

"That would be great, I don't have a jack." Carol replied, feeling like a dope now. Ed had taken the jack out of the car weeks ago to help his friend change a tire and had never replaced it, there wasn't even a spare tire.

She backed away as he got closer to get under the street light, hoping the people in the café across the street would see them out there in case this guy tried anything funny.

"Or a spare." She laughed to herself, as he stepped next to her.

"You aint from around here? You passing through?" he asked and she nodded. Then he saw it, in the light, she had a raging black eye, a fresh one. He'd had enough experience with that to know. It looked like it hurt like a bitch too "You ok lady?" He said motioning to her eye.

"Yes," Carol replied, "I am now."

"Whoever did that to you is a douchebag." He said, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. She took out hers and he lit one for her.

"Yeah," Carol replied, "He is."

They were silent for a beat and it was getting awkward, finally he took his eyes from her pretty face and took out his cell phone.

"I'll call you a tow, my buddy Axel has a shop, he's honest and fast."

"You don't have to do that." Carol said.

Daryl eyed her as he dialed the phone. "Ain't got nothing else to do lady."

It struck her then, that he was like her, someone fucked over by the holidays, because surely if he had somewhere to be or someone to get home to he wouldn't be out in the cold with her. She was sad for him, and for herself.

"Thank you, ah…"

"Daryl, my name is Daryl." He answered.

"Hmmm," She said.

"What?"

"I'm Carol," She smiled, "They rhyme."

He huffed and dialed the phone, she listened as he spoke to the person on the other end of the phone. Soon he hung up and turned back to her.

"He'll come get your car off the road, bring it to his shop, but he can't fix it till day after tomorrow, Axel, he's got six kids and its…"

"Christmas Eve, I know." She said softly.

"Can't wait till it's over." Daryl said as he reached into her car window and shut off her lights. "You don't need a dead battery too."

"Me either."

Carol laughed then and she supposed he thought she was crazy, standing in the cold with a black eye and a flat tire laughing like that. Something told her that this man wouldn't laugh at her though.

"Daryl," Carol said as she reached into her car and grabbed her purse. "Does that place over there have hot chocolate?" She pointed to the café across the street.

He nodded.

"How about I buy you and I one while we wait for your friend." She said looking up at him. His hair was wet and he looked cold, she was cold and sure she looked the same. They both needed to warm up.

Daryl shrugged. "Ain't got nothing else to do." He said and she smiled.

"Me either," She replied and he followed her, making sure that he looked both ways before they crossed the street.