Chapter 24

Well, it was time for dinner. Everyone was chatting around an exquisitely decorated table. Music, candles, and gourmet food provide a stark contrast to the giant bottle of Mountain Dew Howie Junior is chugging and then he did a hot long burp that follows blows away Max and Beth's appetites. Of course, Howard was proud. "HA! That's my boy!" Beth tries to leave but catches a sharp glare from Sarah. Tom tries to escape into his phone but Howard elbows him. "Gettin' Howie Junior into game shape! By the time he hits high school, he'll be the biggest lineman in the state. Ever even been on the field, Tommy?"

Tom lamely attempts to man up, as if he were a Navy Seal. "Nah. Spent most of my younger years in training."

Howard asked, "Yeah? Army? Marines?"

Tom replied, "Eagle Scouts."

Howard was taken aback. "Huh. That where you weave baskets, help little old ladies cross the street?" Jordan and Stevie snicker.

Tom replied, "Actually, there's a lot of survival train-"

Howard interrupted him. "Tell you what, the only survival training I need is my ol' smoke pole and a box of thirty-ought-six in the truck." He nods to his family. "A shepherd's gotta protect his flock."

Linda said, "Howard, I thought we agreed, no gun talk at the dinner table." Baby Chrissy flings food to the floor where Rosie slurps it up.

Sarah cringes. Seeing this is like nails on a chalkboard. "Wow, looks like Chrissy is really enjoying my gravlax..."

Linda takes the hint. "Careful kids, your Aunt Sarah likes everything clean and perfect. That's why she cooks the food you can't pronounce."

Sarah eyes Linda's casserole. "Well, I thought you guys might want a break from Mac & Cheese with hot dogs." Linda shoots daggers at her sister, insulted.

Aunt Dorothy said, "Well, you're wrong. Who doesn't at least make ham on Christmas? What are you now, a Jew? Abby and Ziva aren't here anymore they're-"

Sarah said, "Moved away. I know Aunt Dorothy. We talked about this every year." Tom nodded. Mary looked down at her food in silence as she sat next to Max. Even her cousins, who normally never show sympathy, knows that this lie is going too far after so many years. "Where ever they are, they are happy." Mary felt her eye tear up and used her napkin to stop the tear. "Are you ok Mary? Winter allergies again?" Mary nodded. Barely containing her rage, Sarah escapes to the kitchen. "Maybe it's time for dessert. Hm?" She gets up while Dorothy enviously eyes Omi's food: a special meal of mashed potatoes, turkey, and green beans. Meanwhile, the kids have their own tense conversations.

Stevie asked, "Hey Maxi-Pad, you hear what happened to Santa?"

Max sighs, knowing what's coming. He looks to Beth for support but she glances away, leaving him to die. Max rolled his eyes. "No, Jordan, what happened to Santa?"

Stevie said, "I'm Stevie, she's Jordan."

Mary said, "Give him a break, please. We barely see you enough as it is so our memory might not be as it is. Besides, I think the last time we saw you, that didn't involve the holidays, was my Nutcracker ballet." She gently glared at them. "So anyway, what about St. Nickolas?"

The girls exchange a smile, thinking and speaking as one. Jordan was first. "Heard it on the news. His sleigh crashed in the Rockies. Shattered both his legs. Frostbite took care of his pain..."

Stevie said, "...but not his hunger. So to survive, he had to slaughter and eat his reindeer."

Jordan said, "...including Rudolph." She dangles a slice of meat from her mouth.

Stevie said, "Ate tiny reindeer! Get it?!"

Max tenses and Beth grabs onto his arm. "Don't start anything!"

Mary said, "I'm so glad Baba Yaga isn't in America." Stevie and Jordan looked at her confused. "Baba Yaga would've ripped you to shreds with her disembody hands in her spinning house on chicken legs or let her fence of flaming skulls burn you alive like Vasilisa's stepfamily." She saw they were shaking.

Beth saw this and chimed in. "She comes swooping, but in silence. Soft, but biting. And when she strikes, all stop in her wake. For now, could anything move against such a one? And they fear her."

Mary continues. "All fear her, for it seems that where she visits, there sorrow, pain, fear lie."

Then Beth and Mary finished. "But that is not so. A fault of poor causality. She is not so cruel…"

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sarah's crispy crème Brulee with a small torch, muttering, "Macaroni and Cheese and hot dogs. Jesus..."

Then from out of nowhere, " So why the heck does Omi get real food while the rest of us have to suffer through your duck plate?" Startled, Sarah flinches and burns her finger on the torch. She turns to Aunt Dorothy pouring herself more egg-nog. "You know how all this fancy stuff

wrecks my pipes."

Pushed to her limits, Sarah finally unleashes. "Well, how about next year we'll go to your trailer for Christmas? Hm? And after you've spent weeks decorating, cooking, and cleaning, I'll just waddle in and start bitching and moaning about everything you've worked so hard on." Dorothy tries to talk but Sarah wouldn't have it. "No, please, Aunt Dorothy, for your sake? Stay the hell out of my kitchen."

Aunt Dorothy was silent. A slap to the face would've stung less. But Aunt Dorothy stopped before she left and looked at Sarah. "By the way…Mary was the most beautiful swan I have ever seen. If I was ever a mother, I know for sure I wouldn't be like you or Linda." That made Sarah stop cooking as she left.

Back in the dining hall, whatever comfort that Max felt from Mary and Beth was gone as Stevie and Jorden were at it again. Jordan said, "We know you still believe in the big fat creeper."

Max said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Grinning wide, Stevie pulls out Max's letter. Mary's eyes widen as Max checks his pockets, realizing they swiped it. Stevie asked, "You sure about that?"

Mortified, Max tries to get up but Beth holds him back. "Max, stop!"

He struggles as Stevie stands and clears her throat. "'Dear Santa, I know I haven't been great this year and I'm sorry for that, but I was really hoping you could help out me and my family this Christmas. We need you.' Awwww, Maxi-pad, that's so sweet!"

Max yelled, "Knock it off!" Max breaks loose from Beth and tries to tackle Stevie, but Jordan holds him back.

Tom senses where this is heading. "Guys c'mon. Hey Howard?"

But Howard didn't care. "Aw, they're just playin', Tommy."

Knowing her time is short, Stevie scans the letter. "Blah-blah-blah, bullshit bullshit, Aha! Here we go, Maxi's wish list." Tom is finally about to step in when. "'I wish my mom and dad would fall in love again. I know they get upset a lot, but with dad away from home so much I think they really just miss each other.'" This freezes Tom in his tracks.

The room falls silent except for Max wildly kicking as Jordan keeps him pinned down. Max yelled, "GET OFF ME!"

Mary ran to her brother. "Leave him alone!" Bur Jordan knocked her down and sat on her.

Beth reached for the letter. "Stevie stop, that's enough."

Steve smirked. "Wait, you're in here too, Beth!" Then she continues reading. "'I wish me and Beth could hang out like we used to. I wish that Mary becomes the best ballerina in the world without hurting her body. I've read what happens to ballerinas when they over-dance which harms the body and mind and I wish you spare Mary that pain. She's already suffering enough since she lost Grandpa and Abby. You might've noticed that I don't have tons of friends' - No, really, Max?" Beth's face drops - this hits home. "'Also, I wish things weren't so hard for Uncle Howard and Aunt Linda. So maybe you could lend them a hand for the rest of the year too.'" Howard and Linda's faces are flush with embarrassment. Stevie's tone changes suddenly hurt. "'And... and that...'" Then she yelled at Max. "SCREW YOU! DAD DOES NOT WISH WE WERE BOYS!"

Mary yelled, "Could've fooled us! I've met tom-boys, drag-kings, and trans that are better human beings than you are!"

An awkward beat as Sarah proudly enters with dessert. "Who wants some Creme Brulee?"

Max bites Jordan's hand and breaks for Stevie, who punches him, knocking him on his ass. Both girls pile on Max as he fights back with all he's got. Mary got up from the ground and pulled Jordan away from him and landed a nice right hook to the jaw. Tom and Howard struggle to pull their kids apart. Tom yelled, "MAX, MARY, CALM DOWN! Howard, will you tell the girls to lay off?"

Howard said, "C'mon Tommy, they have to learn to fight or they'll get eaten high school!"

They were broken from the fight Omi watches as Max grabs the letter and stands up. heart, his last shreds of childhood innocence, now gone. "I just wanted Christmas to be like it used to be. But forget it. I hate Christmas. And I hate all of you." He storms off.

Sarah called after him. "Max? MAX?!" But he's gone. Sarah looks at Tom, urging him to handle it.

Aunt Dorothy said, "Aw, lay off him. Kid oughta get a prize for telling the truth."

Mary got up and dusted herself off. "Christmas is about family, love, and celebrating Jesus's birth. But instead, you all poison it. If Grandpa were alive right now, no doubt he would've dropped kicked you all out of my house. You have 3 days until Christmas to shape up, or God help me," She pointed at them. "you better pray that the worst will never come." She ran to her room, as Howie just sat at the table eating the small pigeon bird Sarah made.

In Max's room, he sits at his desk, staring at the letter. Then he heard a knock. "Can I come in?" It was Tom.

Max answered, "No."

Tom enters bearing a peace offering of milk and cookies. Then he sits. "You know they're leaving right after Christmas, so we only have to survive another..." Then he cringes. "...three days."

Max said, "Every year it gets worse. Why do we have to put up with their crap just because we share DNA?"

Tom tried to explain. "Because that's what a family is, Max. People you try to be friends with even if you don't have a whole lot in common."

Max asked, "But WHY?"

Tom was stumped. "Because... well... Okay, you kinda got me there." After he said, "Or, maybe it makes us work a little harder to find what we do have in common, you know? Put everything aside and think of other people for a change. Friends, family, even the assholes you normally can't stand."

Max asked, "Like Howard?"

Tome said, "I didn't want to name names."

Beat, Max thinks about this. "Dad... you really believe all that?"

Tom said, "I want to, Max." Tom tinkers with an advent calendar on the wall. "And hey, I bet it's not too late to drop that letter in the mailbox..." Tom kissed his head. "You also should've heard your sister. She was scarier than Marley's Ghost." Tom leaves as Max stares at the letter, contemplative. In Mary's room, Mary tore off her shoes and sat on the bed holding the present in her arms. After a few breaths, she closed her eyes and started to mutter the Lord's prayer. At the same time, the family cleans up broken dishes and food, the air thick with awkward silence and decades of growing tension. Max starts to sign the letter. A glimmer of faith was still visible in his young eyes. But then - RIP. Heartbroken, he tears the letter in half. Then tears it again and again until he can't tear it anymore. Max then opens a window and throws the pieces outside...but instead of falling, the shreds of the letter are pulled UP into the night air by a sudden gust of wind. Max watches as they swirl higher and higher into the moonlit sky. Satisfied, he closes the window when he notices snow. Just some flurries at first, a trickle that gives way to full snowfall. Puzzled by the timing of it, Max closes the blinds while in the sky above thick rolling clouds. Massive. Unearthly. Ominous. And somehow forming directly above the ENGEL HOUSE, spreading over the surrounding homes like a biblical storm. Heavy snow and eerie wind start filling empty streets, knocking over decorations, and bending tree branches. Frost spreads across windows like skeletal fingers. Christmas lights swell to a bright glow and then pop off. And from above, the Engel house, and the entire neighborhood, are engulfed by darkness.

Then Max's tv fizzes out and then a scene was being played. It was from the upcoming Christmas Carol that Mary was talking about. The room went dark, as Marley's Ghost pointed not at Guy Pearce, but at him.

~*~*~*~*~*~Prepare Ye~*~*~*~*~*~