and the pain.
She swallowed hard and blinked. When she looked again her eyes focused on her own reflection in the glass. It came as no surprise that the face staring back at her wore a deep frown. After what had happened today, she wasn’t so sure she would ever smile again.
A lick of icy wind weaved its way through the bustle of people moving along the sidewalk behind them, and it blew hard against her back. She watched the reflection as her hair whipped around her head, a shock of it eventually coming to rest across her face and blocking her tired eyes. She brushed it away with the back of her hand, and then purely out of habit she reached down as she momentarily hiked up her leg and proceeded to adjust her sagging knee sock. The thin cotton did little to protect her against the cold, but right now she really didn’t care.
Still quietly staring into the window she pulled her free hand back inside the arm of her coat and clenched her fist hard. Her fingernails dug into her palm, and as she felt the sting she winced and then relaxed her fingers. She had thought the pain helped earlier, but now she wasn’t so sure. It didn’t make anything go away this time. It was just more pain on top of what was already there. Maybe there was nothing at all that could help her.
Maybe this really was all her fault. Maybe God was punishing her for something. That’s what Sister Conran would say. “God punishes bad girls.” She had heard those words more than once from the nun, but they had never really applied to her. That is, maybe until now.
Merrie just wished God would tell her what she had done wrong, so she could confess her sin and be sorry. She would say Hail Marys and Our Fathers until she lost her voice if it would make all of this go away and keep her from going to Hell.
She didn’t want to go to Hell. She felt like she was already there anyway, and that was bad enough. If Hell really was worse than this, she didn’t want any part of it.
Her jumbled thoughts were interrupted a moment later when she felt a furious tugging at her other arm. The constant pull was soon joined by seemingly desperate words screeching into her ears.
“Mare-reee…” Becca pleaded. “C’mon, Merrie… C’mon… I doan wanna lookit the train no more… I wanna see Santa now.”
“Okay, okay,” Merrie mumbled, giving in and allowing her sister to drag her toward the door. “But we have to be quick. Okay? Mom will be waiting.”
Becca began chanting, “Santa Claus is coming… He knows you’re naughty… Santa Claus is coming… He knows you’re ‘wake… Santa Claus is…”
“Don’t sing, Becca, okay?” Merrie grumbled.
The request fell on all but deaf ears, not that it really mattered. Her younger sister was too overwhelmed with excitement, and she couldn’t stop singing even if she tried.
Still holding on to Becca’s hand, Merrie reached out and tugged the door open. The bell at the top jangled, then her ears were filled with voices, holiday music, the swishing and ticking of the model train, and all of the other sounds that came with a busy store at Christmas. But as loudly as they echoed inside her head, they couldn’t push away his voice. It was louder still.
“… You don’t want to make me kill your parents, right? Promise you won’t tell…”
Immediately following the wall of noise came a blast of warm air rushing outward into her face. It was comfortable and stuffy at the same time. Chasing away the chill of winter, but also stale and thick in a way that made it hard to breathe. Like the sounds, it too was filled with way too many things-
The sweet smells of candies, and the buttery aroma of popcorn…
The spiciness of candles and perfumes…
Of fruitcake…
The chemically sharpness of flocking…
Of plastic trees…
And even the smell of the people shopping…
Floating in between like some kind of invisible glue holding the odors together, was a weird, pretend Christmas tree scent. The kind that came in a spray can and made everything smell like the pine sawdust the janitor always used whenever someone puked on the floor at school.
School…
The janitor’s closet…
The piney stink was just another reminder that Merrie really didn’t need right now. Her stomach felt like it flip-flopped and her mouth started to water. She paused, holding the door open as the fear began chewing its way through her insides all over again.
However, Becca wasn’t going to wait.
Still set on her single-minded mission, the five-year-old stomped forward toward the threshold. When she could go no farther because of Merrie’s grip on her hand, she stopped chanting her joyful tune and began tugging hard on her sister’s arm. “C’mon, Mare-reee… C’mon…”
Merrie gave in and plodded slowly through the doorway and into the store, even though the panic in her chest made her want to turn around and run away as fast and as far as she could. Even worse, the feeling was getting stronger with each step, and before they had even made their way past the checkout stand she found herself once again trying to reason out a deal with her younger sibling in order to escape the horror of facing anyone in a red suit, even if it really was just Mister Babbs behind the beard, just like he always was at Christmas.
“Becca…” she asked as the five-year-old pressed forward with her in tow. “Wouldn’t it be more fun to just look at the train some more?”
“No!” her sister yipped.
“But you didn’t see everything. I can show you…”
“No!”
“I’ll let you have my dessert after dinner tonight.”
“No! Santa!”
“But you already saw Santa,” Merrie objected. “When Mommy and Daddy took us shopping at the big department store last weekend. Remember?”
“Santa! Santa!” Becca demanded, pulling harder as her older sister came to a full stop and began to resist.
Merrie started to object again and even considered pulling big sister rank on her. “But, Becca, I’m…”
Before she could finish, a cheerful voice interrupted. “Did I hear someone say they’re looking for Santa?”
“Santa! Santa!” Becca chirruped, dancing in place as the excitement percolated from her tiny body.
Miss Ruth, the store manager, smiled down at them, then turned up her wrist and pushed back her sleeve so that she could check her watch. “Hmm,” she said. “Well, I believe Santa is taking a break right now so that he can feed the reindeer up on the roof.”
A wave of intense relief washed over Merrie as the words registered. She couldn’t have asked for a better excuse to get out of this whole mess.
Becca’s eyes widened and she yelped, “Rainn-deeeer! Can I pet Rudolph? Can I?”
“No, honey, I’m afraid it’s too slippery up on the roof for little girls,” Miss Ruth explained, apology clear in her voice. Then she asked, “You’re Elizabeth Callahan’s girls, right?”
“Yes ma’am,” Merrie replied.
“Is she next door?”
“Yes ma’am, at Norris’s,” Merrie answered again, this time with a slight nod, then she added, “She’s waiting in line for the butcher, so I said I would bring Becca over to see Santa. But since he’s busy…”
Miss Ruth smiled wide. “Oh, no need to worry dear. Santa should be back down in just a few minutes.”
Unfortunately, that bit of news sent a second wave crashing down upon Merrie, but this one made her feel miserable all over again.
Miss Ruth squatted down in front of Becca and gave her nose a tweak as she continued. “And, you know what’s even better?”
“What? What?” Becca asked, excitement pushing her eyes even wider at the idea of something better than petting a real, live reindeer.
“I’m pretty sure you two are the only children in the store right now, so if you just go on back and wait, you’ll be first in line to see Santa when he’s done.”
