Buck Wilmington was a dead man. There was no doubt about it. Chris Larabee was swearing without ceasing after returning early from a trip to his cabin about 200 miles away after assigning his former alive best friend to watch the ranch for him. Chris made the trip after claiming exhaustion and that he needed solitude, but both he and Buck knew the real reason was to get away from anything and everything that had to do with Christmas. Ever since he lost his wife Sarah and son Adam to a car accident, Chris hated the holidays with a passion that could rival Old Scrooge. As a matter of fact, along with the winter clothes and blankets and the multiple and more than ample supplies of booze; Buck, Chris assumed, had put a copy of A Christmas Carol in with the supplies. That, Chris thought was reason enough to kill Buck, but the ladies' man had sealed his fact with the display of Christmas decorations and lights that sparkled from all over the ranch house, including several trees close to the house. From Santa and the reindeer on the top of the house to the manager scene complete with the beautiful and sparkling Star and even the hideous large air-filled figures of snowmen, Santa Claus and others that Chris especially hated, his whole front yard, patio and house was decorated as if for the best-decorated houses contest.
What was Wilmington thinking? He must have lost his mind; surely he couldn't have forgotten the pain Chris felt over the holidays. Buck, he thought, shared the same pain.
Sarah and Adam, along with Buck had loved Christmas. Chris remembered how each Thanksgiving, the three were so excited about Christmas they began to set up and arrange decorations that night. Sarah loved silver and red colored decorations; Buck loved blue and gold decorations; and little Adam clamored for each color of lights and decorations especially, 'Green like Daddy's eyes' he would shout, dancing around the boxes full of Christmas joy. Christmas music filled the house day in and out, along with the television specials about Christmas, Adam loving the Little Drummer Boy best and year after year pleading for a drum set. Sarah caved when Adam was four and bought a small one, which Adam tried to play even in sleep as his little fingers drummed on the covers. Looking at the manger scene, Chris felt a large lump in his throat: little Adam had added horses and dogs to the scene, telling his parents that a stable just had to have horses. Adam begged his mother to bake cookies and let him help decorate, and loved sniffing the smell of gingerbread baking in the oven along with helping Sarah (and Buck most of the time) stick raisons for eyes, nose and mouth. Of course the other cookies had to have colored icing on them, even though a lot of icing ended up in Adam's mouth when the little boy thought the others weren't watching. Adam had also demanded colored pancakes, all the food had to have Christmas color though even Uncle Buck frowned at green gravy and blue milk. Adam had also insisted the each of the four have their own outside tree to decorate and Chris had grumbled but never failed to give in to Adam's begging or Sarah's pleading blue eyes. Adam loved to decorate the inside tree with large amounts of candy canes, popcorn strings and other edibles he would sneak when the adults weren't watching (he thought). Christmas had been the happiest time of the year until ten-year-old Adam was killed along with Chris' beloved wife. After that Christmas time was the darkest time in each year, and the five years since the car accident had not changed that for Chris and Chris thought Buck had finally given up hope of changing that.
So what was his former best friend doing turning the austere ranch into a holiday festival?
None too steady, Chris stumbled from the car, carrying a packed bag of items for the cabin and a bottle of whiskey. Hope of finding everything a bad dream or a nightmare faded as he entered the house after several seconds of fumbling for the key to fit into the door and almost tripping as it finally opened.
Shit. The inside, too. Angrily Chris plopped on the couch, downing more whiskey and knocking off the bag which promptly spilled everything into the floor, including the A Christmas Carol. Bah Humbug! Chris snorted.
Tired, overwhelmed, angry and more than a little inebriated, Chris dozed after lighting the fireplace in the cold house.
TBC