December 25th, 2016

Kinsky, California, USA

Christmas

It was Christmas morning, and Mahalo sat waiting in his bedroom in agony. He had promised to stay put the night before, until one of his brothers let him know it was clear. But he had woken up at 4 o’clock, and had a scarce time in trying to get back to sleep. And so he sat up in his bed, waiting for the moment to finally break out and open the presents.

Suddenly, his ears perked up. The door opened, and his taller, stronger brother came in to greet him.

“Yo,” Russell called. “Time to get up, lil man.”

Mahalo immediately rushed past his older brother, going straight to the small artificial Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. Billy watched him approach from a distance, laughing at the child’s frenetic energy.

“Calm down, boy!” The oldest sibling called out to Mahalo. “What, you think Santa’s gonna take the toys back if you don’t get to them fast enough?”

The two older brothers watched the boy unwrap each of his presents, his reaction getting more excited with each gift unwrapped. But the child had made the classic mistake of starting with the largest presents first – by the time he was almost done, the only present remaining was a small little rectangular wrapped box.

“Well,” Russell spoke as Mahalo looked at it, “What do you think it is?”

Curious, the boy took off the wrapping paper to reveal a small cardboard box. When he opened the box, however, is when he realized the magnitude of the gift.

Inside was a small game handheld. A Gameboy Advance, to be specific. The boy immediately took out the handheld and yelled with joy. Russell and Billy looked out from their perch, smiling themselves.

After a few minutes or so, Russell helped the young brother get into the swing of things, and soon the boy was in his own little world. Russell walked over and stood by Billy, who had gotten himself ready for church in the meantime.

“You think he’ll know?” Russell whispered. “That it used to be mine.”

Billy shook his head. “Boys his age, thankfully, are still in blissful ignorance. Anyway, we all better get on over there. Service is gonna start soon.”

Billy and Russell enjoyed a particularly quiet car ride with Mahalo, given his distraction with the Game Boy, until they finally arrived at the Santo Domini Catholic Church. After they had gotten in their seats and the service began to start, Billy had taken away the handheld and Mahalo already found himself getting bored. That morning, however, had one other set of familiar faces in attendance.

Emily had seen that the brothers had been seated just behind her own family after she had gotten up to use the restroom. She peeked behind her to see Mahalo, sunken in his seat, staring down at his skate shoes. She looked back to her family; both her brother and mother seemed absorbed in the service. She quickly turned back to Mahalo, giving a sort of high pitch psst with her tongue. 

The boy looked up. Emily gave him a funny face, stretching out her eyelids and blowing him a raspberry. The boy laughed a bit, but laughed even harder when Emily sharply turned her head back towards the front to make sure no one was looking, only to do it all again. The fun was eventually ended by Emily’s mother, who gave her a sharp slap on the shoulder.

“You know better, child,” she said harshly.

Billy, who sat next to Mahalo, shook his head. “Oh, it’s fine Mrs. Bryant. Really, I-”

“It isn’t the proper way to act in a house of God,” the older woman quickly interjected.

The man, defeated, gave Emily a pitying look before falling back into his chair. Mahalo went back to being bored.

…

At the end of the service, Russell had driven his two brothers back to the house, only to continue by himself. He had one more stop on that Christmas morning which he had promised.

In front of her apartment complex, the youngest Ayoub, bundled in a dark brown coat, was staring at her old coupe with a harsh intensity. She had exhausted just about every idea to get it to work, and was beginning to grow impatient with herself. Fortunately, it was right around this time that Russell’s car drove into the guest parking. 

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” Sadja exhaled as the teen got out of his car. “Trying to get it working on my own has been a nightmare.”

Russell took a look at it, tinted through his sunglasses. “You said you couldn’t get it to turn on?”

“No, it turns on. But then it rattles and won’t move.”

Russell nodded. “I think I know what’s causing it. Give me a few minutes.”

Sadja gave a sigh of relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Rus.”

As Russell lifted the hood on the car and began his analysis, he heard the front door of the apartment open. His immediate assumption was that Sadja had gone inside, but he felt footsteps approaching him and the voice of someone unfamiliar call out.

“What’s with the sunglasses? Isn’t it dim enough already?”

Russell looked up to see a young middle eastern woman with long, wavy black hair. She wore a slim-fitting pair of light gray yoga pants and a matching sports bra, which revealed a midriff with a toned six-pack of abs. She held her hand expectantly on her hip, looking down at the football player from the stoop of the sidewalk.

Upon seeing her, Russell felt his heart begin to flutter. He quickly raised his head – nearly hitting it on the hood – and stuttered out a response. 

“O-oh, I… um, I just…”

The girl laughed, and outstretched her hand. “I’m just teasing you. My name’s Magyar – I’m Sadja’s older sister.”

Russell took her hand and shook it, doing his best to hide the blush on his cheeks. “R-Russell Israel. Nice to meet you, miss.”

“Thank you for taking care of Sadja’s car for us. I’d have done it myself, but I’m afraid cars aren’t really my forte,” She began to walk down the sidewalk, taking out her phone, but stopped by Sadja. “I’m going on my run now. Will be back in an hour or so.”

The younger sister nodded, and with that Magyar jogged off. The two teens watched her as she started her run down the block, before taking a right turn out of sight. 

“So… that’s your sister?” Russell asked, still in a state of awe.

Sadja gave an unamused sigh. “Yup, that’s my sister alright.”

…

Sure enough, Russell was able to fix the issue. He said it was a “simple” one, something about a piece that was overheating – but most of it went over Sadja’s head. Still, she thanked him and attempted to pay him a token amount (he declined) before driving to her planned destination.

The Cortez House felt quiet that Christmas morning. For the first time, it made Sadja uneasy. The place had always seemed like a refuge before, but now she noticed all those small details like the gently swinging pine trees and the turned off lights inside and it made her feel as though she wasn’t welcome. Even in her hesitation, however, she manned up enough courage to walk over to the door and knock.

Fortunately, her fears were unfounded. Mrs. Cortez opened the door with her natural exuberance, smiling when she saw Sadja holding a tray in front of her.

“Oh, Sadja! Merry christmas, chica. Come in, dear, please. I was just finishing making Christmas brunch for Maria y yo.”

The young Iranian girl walked inside the house, taking care to wipe her shoes on the mat and take them off near the entrance. “We made some cookies last night, thought you and Maria might like some.”

“Oh, gracias! You didn’t need to do that, dear. Please, will you stay for brunch?”

Sadja smiled, but shook her head. “It’s alright, Mama Cortez. I just had breakfast not that long ago, so I’m not that hungry. Do you know where Maria is?”

“She’s upstairs, in her room. If you could let her know that brunch is about ready, por favor?”

“Of course.”

Sadja walked up the stairs, where she saw the door to Maria’s bedroom was closed. She knocked on it softly.

“Hey, Maria, it’s me.”

“Come in,” Maria’s voice could be heard from within the walls.

Sadja did so, closing the door behind her. Maria was sitting up in her bed, though it was clear by her posture and appearance that she had been laying in bed looking at her phone only moments before.

“Just came by to drop off the cookies and say hello,” Sadja said, sitting next to her.

Maria smiled, looking down at her own feet. “I keep forgetting that you don’t celebrate Christmas.”

Sadja shrugged. “So, how are you feeling?”

Maria thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I still feel awful about the pier stuff. It just… this isn’t my year.”

Sadja reached over and gently rubbed her friend’s back. “Maria… that is one hell of an understatement.”

“You should have seen the look on his face. He just looked… horrified, when I told him.”

“Maybe he was embarrassed, and just didn’t know how to react. I don’t know, boys are weird. People are weird in general – just look at how long it took for Lukas and Kat to get together. I mean, he did send you those texts later apologizing, right?”

“Yeah, he did. And he wants to meet again, before New Year’s.”

“See! That’s good. Trust me, a guy would not want to see you that soon after if he wasn’t into you.”

Maria shook her head. “I just don’t know, Sadj. I really don’t want to mess this up.”

Sadja patted her on the shoulder. “You don’t have to worry, you have help. Not just me, but the whole crew – Rose, Emily, Kat, Ash. Anytime you need something, just let us know. Okay?”

For the first time, Maria looked up to face her friend. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”

Sadja smiled. “Of course. And I mean it, too. Anyway, I should probably head off and let you and Mama Cortez have your holiday. I’ll be having fun… helping Maggy clean out the storage room.”

Maria giggled. “Good luck with that.”

As Sadja opened the door and began to walk towards the steps, she suddenly remembered something.

“Oh! And before I forget…” Sadja poked her head back out from the door frame. “Brunch is ready.”

Maria smiled, and Sadja gently closed the door behind her.

…

On the other side of Kinsky, in a house roughly two and a half times the size of Maria’s, Kat got dressed in her bedroom. She had on a shoulder-cut dress fashioned into a Christmas flair, made with deep red fabric and puffy white cotton edges. She put on a pair of leather boots, and walked down stairs.

As she picked up her purse and got ready to go, her father – who was sitting on his reading chair, drinking coffee and reading a book – looked up at her skeptically.

“You’re going out dressed like that?” he asked.

Kat turned around, looking at him, then her dress, then back again. 

“Oh, come on! This isn’t even that slutty.”

“Katherine!” Her mother called out from the other room.

Kat sighed. “It’s not even that… promiscuous. Listen, like I said, all I’m doing is hanging out with Lukas and Cole to do our usual Christmas stuff. I’ll be back well before dinner.”

Mr. Wilkins seemed like he considered saying more, but surprisingly did not and rather just gave a dismissive wave to the girl. As Kat began to walk out, however, he spoke up one more time.

“Katherine.”

Kat turned around, wincing at what the lecture could be. “Yeah?”

“Your Christmas present. I made another deposit into your 529 plan – that’s the one you’ll use for college. Since you are a senior now it will be the last one I will be making. It will be enough to fund your expenses into any college. Whatever that college happens to be.”

Kat began to open her mouth, already mildly frustrated by her father by his slight against her dress. She was going to comment on how a blanket money investment was lazy, and that it would have meant a lot more to her if he had bothered to give her even a token gift, to show he cared more about her beyond money. Then she stopped. It was Christmas, her overriding superego told her, and that meant it was time for a truce. Besides, her father was clearly well-meaning. There was no reason to lash out. Not this time.

 “Thank you, dad,” she ended up answering. 

Gordon put his attention back to the book. “Run along, now.”

Just a few minutes later, Kat arrived at the Shrodden house. Lukas’ mother greeted her at the door, smiling when she saw the girl’s outfit. 

“That’s a really cute dress, Kat.”

Kat smiled back. “Thank you! It came with a Santa hat, but I lost it and the only other one we have is off-colored.”

Mrs. Shrodden eyed her carefully. “That ruby tiara you got a few years ago might go well.”

Kat shrugged. “If only it still fit. I just hope my head expanded with more brain, rather than empty space.” 

The older woman stepped back to allow the girl to enter. “The boys are in the living room. Everything’s set up, as per your instructions.”

 Kat nodded. “Thanks, Sara.”

The teen found the two boys sitting on the couch, watching some YouTube video on the big screen. When they saw her come in, Cole paused the screen and Lukas got up to kiss Kat. 

“You guys didn’t have any fun while I wasn’t here, right?”

Cole kept his reserved disposition from the Ball. “I just got here a few minutes ago. You’re good.”

Kat sat down next to him on the couch, positioning herself between the two boys. Before she could say much else, Cole turned to see Lukas nod to him. The dark-haired boy quickly grabbed the remote, and turned the TV back on.

Kat, confused, looked at the two. “Guys… are we gonna-”

“Oh, Kat, you’ll love this video!” Lukas interjected. “We were just watching it when you came. It’s a really cute dog, and I know how much you-”

“I mean, I do love cute dogs, but don’t you think we could-”

“Did my mom not offer you some cookies? She’s got those really good, caramel praline-”

“Yes, Luke, I love your mother’s cookies. But it’s also the same ones she makes every year, and I’m sure it can wait over the secret-”

“No!” The boy yelled out. He took a moment, and carefully recomposed himself. “I mean, ‘No’ to the cookies being the same every year. She changed the recipe this time, and it’s really good. Right, Cole?”

The two looked over at Cole, who had one of the cookies in his mouth. After he ate it, he began to think.

“Yeah, yeah… he’s right. It’s got these… earthy notes of ah, cardamom…”

“Earthy notes of cardamom.”

“…Yes.”

“Cole. Tell me where the secret Santa gifts are.”

“They’re… th-they’re in the dresser.”

There was an ornate dresser in the same room that held some fine china pieces and other memorabilia. Kat walked over to it, and opened one of the drawers. Sure enough, there was a bundle of gift-wrapped boxes hiding inside. 

Kat took the gifts and splayed them out upon the carpeted floor, sitting on her knees. “Alright, you guys know the rules. Guess who gave you your gift – if you guess right, you get to keep it. If you guess wrong, the other person who isn’t the giver gets it.”

Lukas sighed and muttered to himself. “Why can’t women just give gifts normally…”

Kat glared at him. “What was that? I don’t think I heard what you said.”

“N-nothing.”

The girl pulled the first present out of the bunch. “Alright, Luke. This one’s dedicated to you.”

Lukas unwrapped the present. It was a small bottle of men’s perfume – not a brand that was too expensive, but one that was decently mid-market. It was in a crystalline bottle with dark blue liquid, and the logo on the front read Acqua di Homme.

“Kat, is this yours?” Lukas asked.

Kat gave him a skeptical look. “What makes you think it was me?”

“Because you’re always going off about how my breath stinks.”

“I do not always talk about how your breath stinks.”

“But am I right?”

Kat hesitated for a moment, but eventually lowered her head in concession. “Alright, fine, it’s me. But I just got it because I saw it at Sephora and thought it smelled cute.”

Kat got out the next gift. Different wrapping paper, also addressed to Lukas. This time the gift was a trinket – a small, fluffy porcupine keychain. 

Lukas took a bit longer in the consideration of this one. He scratched his hairless chin, looking down at the plush in front of him.

“Well, my initial guess would be Kat, because of the whole ‘cute animal’ thing…” he spoke. “But I know you two have colluded on gifts before, and since Kat already gave me the perfume… I think this is a kayfabe. Cole, final answer.”

Kat looked over at the other boy, who appeared absent from the discussion. She smiled.

“Well, Cole… did you get him the gift?”

Cole, in a daze, came back to attention. At first he looked at the girl confused, as if he didn’t understand the question. But he looked down and saw the stuffed animal, he knew what he was to say.

“Oh, no. Never seen it before in my life.”

Lukas looked at him, shocked. “Really?”

Kat giggled. “Yup, it was all me. Total coincidence those were the first two gifts, too. I promise I’m not playing any tricks. Guess it’s yours now, Mr. Mulaney.”

Lukas tossed the plush in Cole’s direction, though he didn’t seem too interested in the item. Once more, Kat reached behind her to grab a gift, this time making a bit more of a concerted effort to shuffle the gifts around. Once she did this, she picked out a box that had green wrapping paper with a pattern of dark blue dots. Her ocean eyes widened when she saw it.

“Cole, this one’s for you.”

She handed over the gift to the boy. He looked at it, curiously, almost as though it was an alien object. He unwrapped the box, then opened its bland cardboard with a pair of scissors that were nearby. When he saw what the gift was, his whole body stopped. 

It was a small, nicely painted, metal model airplane. 

Cole had always loved flying, but you could be forgiven if you never knew it until this point. In fact, it was one of his best kept secrets. Early on in his life he had an obsession with pilots; particularly leaning towards the fast, single-seat planes rather than big jumbo jets. Near the end of middle school – before most of the modern-day group had been formed – Cole learned that his physical traits were not fit to pilot a jet. For a year or so, it destroyed him, and he did not speak. Marion and his teachers became concerned. Kat and Lukas held out hope, yet near the tailend they too began to worry. Then, one day near the start of high school, he became perfectly fine once more.

With one exception: he never, ever, talked about airplanes.

Of course, Kat and Lukas still knew about it, and did bring it up from time to time – albeit while respecting his wishes of it not being made public. Truth be told, the reason his body had stopped at that moment had nothing to do with the gift itself. That was something completely different.

“So?” Kat asked after a round of silence hit the room. “Which one of us do you think it’s from?”

Cole’s tongue felt numb, and his lips shivered. He held the model airplane in his hands and looked into its empty pilot seat through crystal plastic windows. He had no answer to the question – he honestly didn’t want to even bother with it – and yet words came from out of his mouth anyway.

“You, Kat.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because Lukas is a shitty gift giver.”

Those last few words Cole had simply blurted out. They were much harsher than the jokes he would usually make, and inside he even felt it quite mean. He wasn’t sure why he had said what he said, but he turned to look over at Lukas and saw that the boy was smiling. A few moments later, the smile broke into laughter.

“Well, usually you’d be right. But not this time.”

Cole turned his head back towards Kat. She was smiling now, too.

“Okay, this one is kind of a trick question. It’s from both of us. We know you’ve been having a hard time these past couple of months, and so we wanted to splurge and get you something nice. I don’t really know anything about airplane models, but we did research and apparently this was one of the good ones.”

“Yeah, it’s Aria. These are the ones I usually get, but I don’t have this one. It’s new.”

Lukas breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. You have so many of them I was taking a shot in the dark as to which one you didn’t already have.”

“Hey, Cole…” Kat began to speak. “Listen, I know you’re going to do something great in your life. And you don’t have to know what that thing will be right now. I know you – your heart, your brain – and that’s enough. Enough to tell that you’ll have a meaningful impact on people’s lives. I mean it, Cole. And if you need any help along the way… you have Luke and I.”

Cole didn’t respond to Kat’s words of encouragement. He didn’t know what to say. Instead he kept his eyes held on that model plane, looking into its cockpit, twisting its rotor, and hoping that the tears in his eyes wouldn’t come falling down. 

…

Later that Christmas night, after all the presents had been given, all the toys played with, all the dinners and conversations and reunions had, Gordon Wilkins did something unusual.

He was with his wife and daughter in one of the larger rooms that served as a family theater. Mrs. Wilkins and Kat had chosen a few Christmas movies for the family to watch together. Near the end of the first film, Gordon looked down at his watch, and spoke up.

“You know, Christmas at the church is in fifteen minutes.”

Kat, who had been slumped in one of the reclining chairs, looked at her father with a confused glance. “Wh-what? We’re going? I thought we weren’t going this year.”

Mr. Wilkins shook his head. “Not the whole thing. Just to see it. Maybe have some food and speak to some old friends.”

In years past, the head of the Wilkins family had forced the group to all go together to the Christmas convocation. Yet this year, word from the father was surprisingly silent. Up until this point, both his daughter and wife assumed it had been canceled.

“It’s a bit late for that Gordon, don’t you think?” Mrs. Wilkins said, still in the midst of croquetting on her resting chair.

Mr. Wilkins paused, for a moment. But then he got up from his seat, and gave perhaps his strangest behavior of the whole night.

“Oh, that’s fine. I just wanted to check it out a bit myself. I can go alone, and you two can keep watching your movie.”

His tone was perfectly genuine and sympathetic, which only served to further confuse both of the women. “Honey, you don’t have to-” Mrs. Wilkins began, sitting up slightly, but Gordon stopped her before she could continue speaking.

“It’s alright, Cassandra. Really.”

Mr. Wilkins gave a rare smile, one that was enough to disarm the mother and cause her to fall back to her original position.

After the father left to go grab his coat, his daughter turned to her mother, the expression of shock still left on her face.

“Is he… is he okay?” Kat whispered.

Mrs. Wilkins shook her head. “It’s Christmas. People do weird things on Christmas.”

By the time Gordon arrived in his car, he was just in time for the show to start. Despite the comments to his wife and daughter, he neither ate the food nor talked to the churchgoers, with the exception of those who talked to him first. Instead he went right up to the second-floor balcony, and stood watching in a little alcove down at the church’s stage. 

A few moments later, a young woman – not much older than Kat – came up to him. She had short hair that was dyed a certain shade of silver, and wore a nice black blazer and pair of suit pants. In her hand was a tray that held a few drink glasses.

“Would you like some cider, sir?” The girl asked.

Gordon would have usually said no, but as Mrs. Wilkins said this was already an unusual evening. And so the girl gave him one of the glasses, which he accepted. For a few minutes Gordon stood up on that balcony, taking intermittent sips of the non-alcoholic apple cider and watching the commotion of the stage below. Eventually, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Tragic that they aren’t serving the wine this year. I’d have to wager it has something to do with the Eileen incident from last Christmas.”

Gordon turned around. “Cael,” he spoke, greeting Isaac’s father.

“Where’s Cassandra and Katherine?” Mr. Broderick asked as he stood next to Mr. Wilkins, leaning on the balcony’s railing.

“They aren’t here. I just came to check things out.”

Cael smiled. “Well, would you look at that? I don’t have my son with me, either. Guess that makes us two pathetic old fools who came to the Christmas service without our families.”

Mr. Wilkins didn’t respond. He just took a sip of his apple cider and continued watching the stage. Mr. Broderick turned in time to watch him do it, then took a sip out of his own glass.

“I heard your Kat broke up with my Isaac. For the Shrodden boy. ”

Gordon took another sip of the apple cider. “I don’t control who my daughter has a relationship with.”

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. I told him for a while, ‘Son, never get into a relationship with a girl who has two male childhood friends. That’s asking to get yourself killed’. But he didn’t listen to me, so I figure I’d have him learn the hard way. Though I hope you don’t mind me telling him that there’s a lot of other Katherine Wilkinses in the sea.”

Gordon shook his head. “That’s fine. I understand the nature of the game.”

Cael smiled, then turned back towards the stage. “What’s your opinion on it? Lukas and Kat, that is.”

The father paused for a moment. “I expected it.”

Mr. Broderick chuckled. “Expected it? Feels like not too long ago you were insistent that it wouldn’t happen. And if it would, you would strongly reject it.”

Gordon, acknowledging his own hypocrisy, gave a small grin. “A man can change in his opinion, you know.”

“So you think he’s a good fit?”

Mr. Wilkins straightened out his face. “I’m not sure. It’s young love, and that’s a fickle thing. As both of us know.”

There was a break in the conversation after this moment. Cael, who was silent for a few moments watching the performance with Gordon, suddenly spoke up again. 

“Did you know that we’re the only two people in the entire class of ‘81 who ever came back to Kinsky?”

Kat’s father turned to the man, a curious look in his eyes. “How do you know?”

“Oh, well… you see, everybody’s on Facebook nowadays. A few nights ago I got bored, started looking up people from high school. All the locations are… Portland, Los Angeles, Phoenix, San Francisco. Stuff like that. I noticed Tyson was in Montgomery, probably for his family. Anyway, some of them are successful, some of them are trailer trash. Some are in the position you’d expect, others you’re surprised by. It’s interesting to see how people change.”

“Did you look her up?”

Cael’s countenance dimmed. He took a sip of his cider glass.

“No. I couldn’t. I considered it, but I couldn’t.”

Gordon looked at the man as if examining him, then turned back to the show. “Have you wondered why we’re the only two people in the entire class of ‘81 to stay here?”

“Because we both have bad habits about living in the past.”

There was another pause in the conversation, as a set of children came on stage dressed as the shepherds. After they played their piece, Cael spoke once again.

“You know, there’s an old story about growing old I heard once. Long ago, there was a boy – a boy like you, or me, or any other boy who ever lived. And at one point during his youthful summer, he met a girl. He was obsessed with her, and the girl was obsessed with him. But with all things in youth the two eventually went their separate ways, and the boy grew up into a man. He married a woman, named Emma, and had three kids, a dog, and a nice house in suburbia. 

Enough time passed, and the man grew old. Near the end of his life, he was sent off to a hospital. One day his wife and the kids came to visit him, led by an old nurse that had recently been hired into the ward. At that point the man was too mentally frail to hold a conversation, but he did do one thing: he reached out his hands and spoke the words, ‘Emma, Emma…’. The wife grabbed his hand, and began to cry profusely. Her kids escorted her out of the room, briefly, to give her some space. Once the family was gone, the nurse – who up until that point was standing silent in the corner – suddenly walked up to the man, visibly flustered. She leaned her head right up to his, and whispered. ‘How did you know it was me?’, she asked. ‘How did you recognize me, after all these years?’. But the man was dead before he could ever give a reply.”

Gordon kept his eyes intently on the stage’s procession. “If anything, you’ll be the one who has to worry about that. Lyla is the wife to your child, not mine.”

Cael turned his head towards the stage. “Perhaps you’re right. God, look at us. Sinners at the holy procession. Talking over Christ’s movie.”

The two old friends didn’t say anything to one another after that. They watched the show for only a little while longer, in silence, then went back home alone, going their own separate ways.