Sorry (not) for a holiday story in June. I didn't intend for this the happen, believe me.
Cold winds swept through the town as snow made its appearance. The skies darkened earlier and earlier with each passing day, often forcing people to their warm homes and beds.
Looks like we will have a white Christmas this year. I thought, smiling as I peeked through my window shades, watching the snowfall faster and faster, creating a blizzard against the glass pane.
Of the thirty-four years on this planet, I've only had two or three years when I didn't get any snow for Christmas. Though no one kept track, I did because it was one of the few gifts I received for Christmas, the only thing I really wanted.
I take a sip of my mint coco as the memories spilt forth once again.
Christmas, like any other holiday, was a treat for my siblings and I. It was the only time of year that I felt I belonged in the family and wasn't excluded from the activities like decorating the tree, singing Christmas Carols, or stealing a taste of Mom's baking.
Then, on Christmas Eve, we would leave our wish list on the tree for Santa to find.
"But how come we don't send the letters to Santa like the other kids do?" I remember asking one year.
"Santa has a magic bag," Mom explained, most likely for the umpteenth time, "When he enters a house, he pulls what the kids want or what they need the most out of the bag. Sometimes, he himself is surprised at what comes out of the bag."
I might've asked something about his elves, but mom's stern look said "No more questions, time for sleep."
Then, on Christmas morning, the five of us would race down the stairs and rush to open gifts. We got clothes, toys, and a few pieces of candy, but half of the time my new toys would disappear into my sister's or any one of my brothers' rooms before the New Year. It was one of the reasons I started asking for sketch pads, crayons, and snow instead of toys.
But nothing was compared to that Christmas...
The last gift had been opened and Lizzie smiled at the new tin of crayons Santa had given her. In total, she received a new pair of tennis shoes (which were well needed as her other ones were starting to wear through the bottom), a new sketch pad, a tin of crayons, and a small chocolate bar. Her siblings had received candy canes, chocolate bars, dolls for her older sister, toy trucks for her older brothers, and clothing.
"Hey Lizzie! Look outside!"
Lizzie looked up to see familiar fluffy circles falling from the dark sky. Her eyes lit up as her gift came down.
"Thank you for a white Christmas, Santa," Lizzie whispered, smiling brightly.
As the kids sat on the floor surrounded by shreds of wrapping paper, the two adults looked on.
"Think we'll make it to the end of the month?" the woman asked.
"Angie," the man turned to his wife, a frown marring his features, "it was your idea to get Elizabeth that crayon set. She gets one every year."
"Honey, you know how much she loves them. Besides, I'm sure Tyson goes through histoys faster than she does with her crayons."
The man shook his head, "If you ask me, we should've used the money we had and spent it on something better."
"Like what? A new car? A bigger house?"
"An abortion."
Lizzie turned her head at hearing that. She was suddenly reminded that tomorrow, everything would go back to normal. Her siblings wouldn't want to talk to her and would bully her senseless while both of her parents turned a blind eye and pretended she didn't exist.
She was lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice there was a knock at the door. Lizzie didn't even see the strange look pass between the other six members of her household as her dad moved down the hall toward the door, muttering something about how everyone should stay at home and in bed at this hour in the morning.
When she returned to the present, her dad was holding a small package out to her.
"This was left on the front porch with your name on it," he said gruffly.
Lizzie took it and her father turned away before she could say 'Thank You.'
Everyone watched as the little girl turned the box over in her hands. It was a small rectangular box, about the size of her mom's jewelry box, and was torn. It smelt a little, like soiled pants or rot, and was tied up cruelly with twine. Lizzie shook the box slightly. A ruffling came from inside the box, like paper was in there.
Lizzie gulped, What if there was a rat in there? Or what if one of Tyson's friends decided to pull a practical joke on her?
She took the ends of the strings and pulled them loose. She pulled the twine off before ripping into the brown paper and opening the small box carefully and slowly, just in case.
Everyone leaned forward as Lizzie broke into a grin and pulled out a doll.
It was grotesquely made in the style of a clown, made of cotton and silk. Plastic baby blue buttons made up what were his eyes and three little pom poms lined his light blue silk costume. A white silk ruffled collar was around his neck and little feet and he held what looked like three red suckers that were meant to be balloons in his right hand.
"That's disgusting!" her father broke the silence of the room, glaring at the doll.
"It's... interesting," Lizzie's mother commented.
"It's weird," her older sister made a face at it.
"It's ugly," two of her brothers agreed.
Tyson stayed quiet, his jaw dropped and in complete silence for once.
"Well, I like him!" Lizzie pulled the doll close to her chest, not caring that it smelt a little of decay and musty. A good washing never hurt any toy, especially if it was loved.
"Whose it from?"
The question startled Lizzie and she looked in the box to see if there was a card. All there was that gave any indication as to who the doll was from was a note:
Follow me and I'll show you the truth.
She flipped the note over, but no signature was found, "I'm... not sure."
"Maybe we should toss it," the man of the house spoke, "We don't know who it's from, it's probably riddled with diseases or rat crap. Could also have something living in it."
"No!" Lizzie pulled the clown doll so close to her chest that it made her dad sick looking at it.
"George!" his wife spoke up, "Let her keep the doll. I'll wash it this morning and make sure it's safe. Besides, Lizzie doesn't have dolls of her own. Please, just let her have this one."
Her father groaned before speaking, "If you keep that... thing, I don't want to see it in my presence, understand?"
"Yes, sir," Lizzie answered, gripping the doll closer to her chest.
I had that dumb clown doll for so long. I actually called it 'Pennywise' because I discovered later that day that he had given it to me.
Lizzie jumped outside, covered from head to foot in winter gear. Her too large winter cap nearly covered her eyes while her scarf was wrapped around her face to keep the December chill out. Her boots disappeared into the snow and was grateful for her sister's hand me down snow pants to keep the frozen water out. Her mitten covered hands gripped the clown doll, with a piece of cloth wrapped around his neck in a makeshift scarf.
After a good washing and drying, mom deemed the doll worthy of a good friendship. Lizzie was secretly happy that her mom approved of the doll, even though everyone else thought it was ugly or creepy. It just meant that no one would try and take it from her.
Lizzie set him down in the snow, placing her hands on her hips, "Now, Pennywise, I'm thinking about making a snowman. What do you think?"
The doll was unresponsive, but Lizzie smiled, clapping her hands together as if she heard him speak, "I think that's an excellent idea!"
She knelt down in the snow as best as she could and began the slow process of making a snowball. She rolled it around the yard before she couldn't push it anymore.
She started a second ball and repeated the process. However, she didn't count on it being too heavy for her to lift it and place it on top of the first ball. She tried scraping some of the snow off and lifting it again, but to no avail.
Her heavy breaths came out in big puffs of white clouds. She looked over at the doll, who sat watching her from a distance.
"I need some help, Pennywise."
"My pleasure, Lizzie-bean."
The youngster turned to see a familiar smiling clown standing near her, resting an elbow on the first big ball of snow.
"Mr. Pennywise!" The little girl ran forward and hugged him, causing the clown to freeze up slightly.
Lizzie looked up, her eyes full of wonder and hope, "I haven't seen you for a while... Where have you been?"
"Busy, Lizzie-bean," the clown grinned, poking her on the nose, "But you asked for my help?"
"Yeah, I can't get this ball of snow on top of this one."
She watched as the clown came around and picked up the ball with ease and set it on top of the first one. Lizzie clapped her hands, gleefully," Oh, thank you, Mr. Pennywise!"
"My pleasure," the clown bowed before her and Lizzie noticed for the first time that he wasn't wearing anything to keep him warm.
"Mr. Pennywise, aren't you cold?"
"Cold? No, should I be?"
Lizzie took one of his gloved hands with her tiny mittened one, "You should be. That costume of yours can't be very thick."
"It's wool, Lizzie-bean. It's very heavy and warm."
The little girl frowned at him before unwrapping her dark blue hand-knitted scarf from around her neck and reaching up as best as she could to wrap the scarf around the clown's neck.
"Scarves are the warmest Mr. Pennywise," she explained, "I've got another one Grandmother Bevvy sent me last year. Keep this one, that way you'll stay warm and be like my new doll."
The clown looked down at the soft knitted fabric before he chuckled darkly, flashing a smile, "Then you got my gift?"
Her eyes widened, "He's from you?!"
"Yes, for the cases when I can't be around," the clown ruffled the top of her head fondly.
We spent a good part of that morning finishing the snowman and Pennywise pulled objects out of thin air in order to give our snowman a face and button down his chest. I chuckled, peeking into my bedroom to see the doll in question still perched on the bed.
Indeed, that clown was a comfort when Pennywise wasn't around, even now.
The oven beeped, breaking my thoughts, and I scurried over to check the chocolate peanut butter blossoms for the apartment complex's annual Christmas party.
Since many of the residences were going to be leaving town in a few days for the holidays, the apartment manager and Mrs. Higgins (god bless that woman's soul) planned a Christmas party for everyone to come and enjoy.
From what I understand, they turned the wash room and entryway of the complex into a party room. Streamers in shades of red and green hung from the ceiling. A large tree decorated for all the holidays was sitting in the main entry, with a present for every kid in the complex, all donated by one of the residences. There would also be a long table for food, Mrs. Higgins asked anyone who was going to sign up to bring a treat as the manager was breaking out his wallet and order in a few main dishes from one of diners in town.
The cookies came out beautifully, better than any batch I made before. I take a bite, just to test, and wish Pennywise was here to taste it as well.
I wasn't sure if he would be interested in the holiday party on the main level of the complex, so I didn't tell him about it, especially since he wasn't human.
I place the cookies on a holiday tray and leave the apartment to join the craziness that was most likely going on downstairs.
"Oh heavens, Lizzie! These are delicious!"
I grin at Mrs. Higgins as she finished the peanut butter blossom in her hands, one covering her mouth so she could speak politely.
"Thank you, Mrs. Higgins. I'm surprised they turned out well, I usually burn things."
"I'm aware, but it seems everyone loves them as well."
We were standing near the tree as everyone around us was either talking, dancing, and enjoying the food.
The lobby was beautifully decorated and the music flowed around everyone, keeping the room filled with joy and holiday cheer. Couples danced across the floor to remixes of "Marshmallow World", "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree", and "Silver Bells." Many of the kids had received a gift from the manager, dressed as Santa Claus, and were showing off the gifts they had received and playing with them or the games that were spread around the room.
I take a sip of punch before noticing that the door to the lobby opened, revealing a man I've never seen in Derry before. Mrs. Higgins followed my stare and placed a hand to her lips in surprise.
Others noticed and suddenly the room stood in stunned silence as the stranger entered.
He was tall with wild ginger hair and wore a long trench coat with a familiar-looking dark blue hand-knitted scarf wrapped around his neck. He wore a dark grey dress shirt, and when he removed the jacket, it revealed the sleeves were rolled up. He also wore dark denim jeans and black and red shoes.
Our eyes met and I saw the distinct glint of gold in those yellow eyes.
Pennywise?
The man crossed the floor, never leaving eye contact with mine, not even as he passed the small group of kids in the corner.
"Sorry I'm late, Lizzie-bean," Pennywise's familiar voice broke the silence, "I got caught up in work."
He pressed a kiss to my temple as I chuckled, "It's alright, I'm glad you could make it."
"Elizabeth? Mrs. Higgins pointed at the man who stood beside me now, "Who is this?"
"Robert Grey," Pennywise held out hand to the elderly woman, smiling cheekily, "I'm an old friend of Lizzie-bean's."
"Oh," Mrs. Higgins took his hand and was pleasantly surprised as this new Pennywise bent his head forward, almost kissing the older woman's hand, "My... what, ah, a pleasure to meet you. Lizzie, you didn't tell me you had invited a friend."
"Must've slipped my mind," I try to smile, but I know Pennywise is up to something.
Thus, with that little mess cleared up, the party continued in full swing. I turned on Pennywise, whispering, "What are you doing here?"
"Well," the clown in a man's disguise grinned, smile stretching beyond normal for anyone, "a little birdy told me that you were at a party and didn't invite me."
"I didn't think you would want to come," I shrugged my shoulders guiltily, "Besides, I didn't think you paid much attention to what holiday was coming up."
"I do, because it keeps track of how much longer I've got with you," he takes my hand in his, his skin icy to the touch, "Besides, as a dancing clown, parties are my specialty."
I watch as he flashes a grin of shark teeth, "Dance with me?"
"Always, Robert ."
He let out a dark laugh and pulled me onto the floor, twirling me around and around till my head spun.
We were in sync than most of the couples currently dancing, just doing our own thing. It was like our minds were connected in a supernatural way. Pennywise knew where my feet were going as I knew where his were. Around and around the tree we went, in tuned to the music and the small crowd that seemingly gathered around us.
When the music stopped, and we stopped spinning around, the crowd let out an applause as Pennywise pulled me closer to him.
I smile up at him, this was the best Christmas ever.