| Toil crept along the hallway, tiptoeing down the dark corners and watching for dogs sleeping in corners. That was something he'd have to remember for next year...dogs. The bite mark on his butt was proof enough the plan needed to be refined. Ah well you live and learn, he thinks.
Pulling the handmade dolls and wooden cars and toy costumes from his small sack, he wraps them in the blink of an eye and sets them under the tree with the names of the children he had found in thier rooms. The small shack house was decorated as much as it could, the single mother was still at work this night and had no money for any gifts. Scowling and putting his hands on his hips Toil whistles out the front door, having Anthony whisk him down decorating supplies. Smiling in thanks, Toil moves through the house like a blur. His long fingers touch every corner, stringing lights and replacing the tree with a huge and plump Douglas fir from North Carolina.
Standing back and admiring his work, he gives a soft laugh. A small shuffle and a cough behind him makes him freeze, and he slowly turns to see the young scrawny girl in her 2nd hand pajamas holding her torn doll. "Santa..?" she whispers, rubbing her eyes.
Before she can see, just a moment before her vision clear he hides himself with Mirror to appear as the quintessential image of Santa. Giving a soft ho ho ho, he pulls out a brand new doll for her from the red sack. "Have a very Merry Christmas Susie..." Watching her clutch the doll and cry in joy was enough for him to smile and ho ho ho again, ruffling her hair and quick as a flash disappearing out the door.
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The young homeless boy ran down the ally, panicking and slipping in the puddles. His father was drunk, again, and looking for a fight. Sliding on a thin sheen of trash and muck, the young boy falls into a pile of trash and twists his ankle as he hears his father drunkenly pounding after him. "There ya are ya lil bashtard, I'll teasch ya ta run frum me!"
The fat drunken slob stopped up over the young boy. He sneered and finished off the vodka in his bottle, before throwing it down and smashing it on the sidewalk. He reaches down and grabs the boy, picking him up and rearing back his fist. Suddenly a fury of motion appears behind the older man and a snap of bone echos followed by a scream. The boy falls back on his ass, wincing, and cannot believe his eyes.
His fathers left arm, one used to hold the boy for beating, was snapped in half. His eyes were bulging and he appeared to be choking on his tongue, gasping for air and wracked with pain. Behind him, a deathly pale man had his hand wrapped around his throat, the veins on the mans neck seem to be pulsing ad flowing towards the death pale hand. Stringy black hair hangs from his face and looking up from his hoodie he grins wide revealing a mouth missing its two canines. "Go home boy. No problem no more. Merry Christmas. Be good or i kill you too." The man spoke with a thick accent, and there was something so...inhumane about it.
The boy stood and ran, regardless of the pain, as fast as he could till he got home.
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"Well, things are going pretty well all things considered! I've got two houses now...a big improvement from that little three bedroom place we grew up in eh?" Alfred smiles, sipping from his cup of hot wassail. "Work is going well, the new fiscal year starts up on Monday so you know the accounting business is going to be booming with returns and companies wanting to exploit tax laws. Then there's Guardian business...you know that goes though. Its a rough job, handling things."
Taking a deep sip, Alfred shakes his head and raises his hand quickly. "No, don't say what you're going to say. I know it already, you've said it plenty of times. I have a fellow agent working with me...well..kind of. He's going through the first shocks...you remember how I was when I first heard about the Tenants. I hope he'll come back..."
Closing his eyes and listening, Alfred smiles. "Yeah, I know. I'm a worry wort. And thanks for your confidence, you know how lonely it gets out here. Still no boyfriend in the picture, but you also know how picky I am." Sniffing a bit and rubbing his eyes, he laughs a bit. "Oh, you'll be proud of me! I have my first real friend. She even got me a Christmas resent. I'm...not sure what to get her that means the same, I don't want to give her anything foolish. Ah well..it's only the first day of Christmas."
Alfred finishes his drink and sighs, standing up and dusting off his rear and brushing the snow off his pants. "This was a good visit Mom...thanks again for being so understanding and just listening. Hope they're treating you right here, taking good care of you. I love you, have a very Merry Christmas."
Setting down the bouquet of red roses on the gravestone, Alfred bundles back up in his jacket and shivers against the cold. Smiling and bowing in respect to the gravestone, he turns and head back to his car, getting ready for the long drive back to Florida.
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