Happy Holidays 2011 Challenge Entry #3

From Whitney Zeigler (member, Westside Writers)

Maggie stared upwards into the steel gray sky. The giant oak’s branches were barely visible 20 feet above her, shrouded in fog. Brittle brown leaves fell softly, plastering the lawn she’d just raked clear. She sighed at the futility of it all.

Jim would have made her laugh at herself. And then he would have leapt into a pile of leaves, scattering them everywhere.

God, how she missed him. Especially with Christmas coming.

Maggie could hardly believe he’d been gone a year already. The weight of the silence pressed heavily upon her. Wrapping her heather gray sweater tightly around herself, she hung up her rake and gardening gloves and went inside.

Determined, Maggie backed the car out of the garage and headed south. She remembered how much Jim enjoyed their frequent drives into the surrounding countryside, and sensed he was with her in spirit, as she headed out on this new journey.

Maggie pulled into the parking lot 20 minutes later and leapt out of the car before she could lose her courage. She plodded into the concrete, one-story building with children’s paintings in the lobby. As she rounded the corner, 20 dogs erupted in a cacophony of barking, each vying for Maggie’s attention.

She looked carefully at each dog, leaning down to pet and speak with them. At the very end of the row, a tri-color border collie lay on his bed, curled in a ball, disinterested in all the fuss and excitement. Maggie squatted down in front of his kennel and held out a piece of cheddar cheese. The dog’s ears perked up and the tip of his tail began to wag ever so slightly.

“Hey, boy,” Maggie said. “What’s your name? How did you end up here?” She slowly reached out a hand and gently scratched his fuzzy head. He looked up at her then, and their eyes locked. Maggie saw his intelligence, and he saw how much she needed him. The border collie nimbly got to his feet and licked Maggie’s hand.

The next day, Maggie and Max the border collie raked leaves together in the backyard. Max dashed about madly, chasing squirrels and falling leaves. Finally Maggie raked the last leaf into the pile and hung up her rake. Max took a running leap and dove into the file, barking excitedly. He climbed out, shaking leaves from his thick coat. Max looked back over his shoulder at Maggie mischievously, tongue lolling out in a doggie grin, eyes shining brightly.

Maggie laughed out loud. “I think you’ve been very naughty this year, Max…but Santa may still bring you some cheese.”

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Happy Holidays 2011 Challenge Entry #2

From April Whidden (member, Westside Writers)

Goody Claus and the Christmas Purpose

Tippy, tippy, tap. Little elven feet exploded on tabletops, whirling and twirling to the rhythm of a tambourine. Weekend dads posed with their kids as reporters clicked cameras. The North Pole was busy this time of year. Mrs. Claus – Goody to her friends - smiled for a quick shot and then excused herself to ‘bake cookies’.

Inside the office, Goody kicked off her shoes and slid out of her Spanx. She surveyed the room. Even in this sanctuary toys were stacked ceiling high. She reached for a cookie, thought better of it, and turned away. Even her Spanx needed Spanx. A growling noise caught her attention and she turned to see her husband sleeping in his favorite chair, a concerned wrinkle across his brow. “Poor dear,” she said, covering him and kissing his cheek. With only two weeks till Christmas he had been putting in long hours, and it was beginning to show.

Goody sighed, remembering simpler times. Dolls for girls. Trains for boys. Coal for the naughty. Nowadays everyone wanted dolls that peed and trains that moved. And Elves didn’t make batteries. Santa had to outsource that job to China.

And kids today…one toy wasn’t enough…they had lists! And now with the population tipping at seven billion… Goody furrowed her brow. She wasn’t good at mat, but she knew there were not enough elves in the Arctic to accommodate that load.

“That’s it,” she said, flopping into the computer chair. “I wash my hands of this. Santa’s exhausted and I’m fat. We’re moving to Belize.” Goody flipped on her husband’s computer and fantasized about her new life. She had spent the last 200 years baking, smiling, and feeding reindeer. Maybe now she could work out, play Bunco, and watch Oprah. She could find her purpose.

She was googling ‘things to do in Belize’ when an odd blinking light appeared in the corner of her monitor. Alarmed that she had broken something, she almost roused Santa. Then she noticed it was a message. A magic, coded message!

Dear Santa,

I no u r buzy but can I plz have a doll for xmas. I need some1 to luv me.

Mary Dryer

Goody shook her head as an image of Mary Dryer popped into her memory. A dark-haired beauty with large eyes. A child who wanted just one doll for Christmas. Goody groaned as Google summoned up pictures of a Belizean beach.

“Well, darn it,” she said, rolling the chair to the doll shelf across the room. She searched until she found the perfect one: a cuddly darling that didn’t pee. “You will be well loved,” she said, giving the doll a kiss and sending it to the sleigh.

Goody watched as 100 linking lights filled the monitor.

Santa yawned. “Good nap. Anything interesting happen while I was out?”

“Yes. You got yourself a new assistant.”

“I did? Who?”

Goody stood, dusting crumbs from her gown. “Why, me of course. I just found my purpose.”

Happy Holidays 2011 Challenge Entry #1

From Michael Fairchild (member, Westside Writers)

NAUGHTY AND NICE

That naughty and nice list business is nonsense. Santa began as a saint, and saints love everyone. Me? I'm Sir. Claws, the cat who guides him through the night, just as I did when he was Bishop Nicholas those many years ago.

We received a troubled child signal as we were finishing Portland. A very intelligent six year old trying with all her might to believe in us.

"Cat," the big man said, "can you look into this?" I know, you're going to ask how we manage all this in one night. I asked Einstein's cat, and didn't understand a word he meowed. I've settled for calling it magic.

I entered the house and was met by a lovely Persian. "My mistress wants a Young Doctor Kit, an elaborate and expensive thing, educational as it is entertaining. Her single mother, can barely afford a few small gifts."

Maryann had whined, pouted, and wheedled finally exploding in a temper, "I hate you and Santa."

To which her mother, patience expended said, "that young lady is why you're not getting what you want. Try being nicer next year."

It was a strained Christmas eve in the little house. The mother was shocked at herself, knowing it was the pressures of life that had caused her to snap. Maryann, recognized the same, vowed to be better, and, to keep her belief in Santa one more year. Her mother let her set out cookies and milk, and wrap herself in a blanket to wait.

We heard a crashing sound in front of the house. "There's a car on the sidewalk," Maryann told her mother who came out of her bedroom.

A man opened the car door and fell. Then picked himself up and shuffled toward the door. "He's drunk," the mother said.

"He's sick," Maryann said. "And he's a policeman."

Her mother pushed her aside and blocked the door. "Help...," he said.

"Call 911. And he doesn't need cookies," her mother said pushing away the tray Maryann held.

"Yes sugar please," the man said, stuffing cookies into his mouth.

As his condition improved, Maryann said, "you need juice."

"You're a very smart girl. You know about diabetes."

"No," the girl said, "I just know."

"Thank you, I pulled a double shift so those with families could be home, and forgot to eat. I'll go now.

"No you won't," the mother said. "You need real food and rest. A look passed between the adults that made Maryann wonder if her other wish might come true.

The girl went off to bed with her cat to purr her to sleep. The adults became acquainted over scrambled egg whites, then slept, he and on the couch, she in her bed. I followed the mother, and as her eyes became heavy, gave her the memory of finding the super deluxe Young Doctor Kit on eBay for practically nothing.

"Excellent work, Sir Claws," Santa said. "Dr. Wendy has saved her first life."

2011 Happy Holidays Challenge

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