December Rumble

[Tensleep]

Ok, I missed November completely, so lets give this another go. I don't think these will continue if no one posts anything...again, so I leave it to you writers of fiction.

Anyways, on with the show, I suppose. Please see the rules before posting.

Rumble December 07:

It's a Wonderful Life

We all have out Christmas traditions, whether they're simple, timeless or just plain manic, and the boys are no different.

Write a piece about the boys at Christmas time showing how they would spend Christmas. Can be one or all of them, pre-post novel, 7 pages max. Have fun.

Ends January 1st.

Please copy, paste and post your entries under this tread so we can all enjoy them! I know there are some awesome imaginations on this forum. So get writing!

Tens

[Nittanylizard]

I'm glad to see this back on the go!

*resolves to get this one written, dangit*

[sharpshooter]

Oh, I'd love to be a part of this. I've already got a plot forming in my head...

[greaserfreak]

Title: A Curtis Tradition

It started the year Darry was four and Soda was only a few months old. Mrs. Curtis was home alone with the two boys which wasn't unusual, but on this day, Soda had an ear infection and Darry was getting bored after being stuck inside the house all week due to bad weather. She didn't blame Darry for wanting to have something to do after all, he was only four and like most four-year-olds, he liked to play and help his parents around the house.

"Mama, I want to help," Darry said, tugging on Mrs. Curtis's skirt.

Mrs. Curtis smiled down at her older son as she cradled a fussy Sodapop in her arms. "I think you better let me handle this, sweetie. Your brother has an ear infection and it's hard to get the ear drops in his ears with all the wiggling that he does."

"I can take medicine," Darry told her. "I'm a big boy."

"Yes you are," Mrs. Curtis agreed. "Let me put Soda in his crib and I'll see if I can find something for you to do."

While Mrs. Curtis was putting Soda into the crib, Darry wandered into the living room where the Christmas tree was set up and decorated. He liked to look at all the red and gold balls that hung from the branches. However, he did not like that he was still too little to help decorate the tree. While his parents were decorating the tree, Darry was playing with his blocks next to Soda who was sleeping.

"These ornaments can break very easily," Mr. Curtis had said when Darry asked if he could help. "Maybe when you're older."

Darry hated it when when he was told he couldn't do something until he was older. Even at four, he liked to feel useful. He was a big brother. There were lots of things he could do that Soda couldn't. But it seemed like everyone thought he was too little to do anything.

"You like looking at the ornaments, don't you?" Mrs. Curtis asked as she joined her older son. She knelt down beside him and put her arm around his shoulders. "I like them, too."

"Daddy says they break," Darry said.

"Yes, the ornaments do break," Mrs. Curtis told him. Then she had an idea. "How would you like to make your own ornament for the tree?"

"My own ornament?" Darry asked.

"That's right," Mrs. Curtis said. "I have extra bits of yarn and fabric that you can use."

"And it won't break?" Darry asked. He was starting to like this idea.

Mrs. Curtis nodded. "And you can hang it on the tree when it's done."

"Mama, I want to make an angel," Darry said, excited that he was finally going to be able to put something on the tree.

"That's a good idea," Mrs. Curtis told him with a smile. "We could use another angel on the tree."

Darry made his angel ornament out of pieces of fabric and yarn that he glued together. When he hung it on the tree, his face glowed with pride because it was something he had made himself. He admired his ornament as it hung from the branch and when Mr. Curtis got home from work, he showed it to him.

"I made an ornament, daddy," Darry said as he pulled Mr. Curtis to the tree. He pointed at his angel that smiled at them with it's red yarn smile.

"Well, it looks like you got to help decorate the tree after all," Mr. Curtis said with a smile.

Every year after that, Darry made an ornament for the tree. When they were old enough, Sodapop and Ponyboy made ornaments for the tree, too. And some years, there were extra ones because they would make ornaments in art class at school. It was one thing that all the of them enjoyed doing, although Ponyboy seemed to enjoy it the most. By the time Darry was out of high school, there weren't many red and gold balls left, but there were still all of the ornaments that he and his brothers had made and there was still more to be added.

"Do you remember when you made this?" Mrs. Curtis asked Darry when he nineteen. She held up the angel he had made when he was four.

"Yeah, I remember," Darry replied with a small grin. "I also remember Soda's first ornament. I'm surprised there's still glitter on it."

Mrs. Curtis laughed as she found Soda's gold bell that had tiny handfuls of glitter dropped on it. She then took out Ponyboy's first ornament which was an angel, but unlike Darry's, Pony had wrapped a piece of white fabric around a clothes pin and attached pipe cleaner wings and a halo. "You three have always enjoyed making these ornaments."

"Yes, it's fun," Ponyboy said as he held up a newly completed ornament. "And it makes the tree more special."

"It does," Darry agrees as he hugged his mom and kissed her cheek.

Darry and Ponyboy both continued the tradition with their own children, wishing that Soda could have done the same. Their kids enjoyed making their own ornaments as much as they did. And neither Darry or Ponyboy had to worry about buying ornaments from the store. They just had to replace the lights every few years.

In early December 2007, Darry stopped by his daughter Beth's house for a visit. He had told her that he would put Christmas lights up along the roof of the house. When he stepped inside the front door, his two grandchildren ran up to him.

"Grandpa, come see what we're doing," Hannah said. The two kids led him to the kitchen where various craft supplies were laid out.

"Well, it looks like you two have been busy," Darry commented as he picked up Alexis.

"We're making ornaments for the tree," Hannah told him. "I'm making Rudolph."

"I made a snowman," Alexis said. "Isn't he cute?"

Darry looked at the paper snowman with cotton balls glued on him except for the crooked smiley face that was drawn on with red and purple crayons. "Good job, Alexis."

"They were asking when they could make ornaments all week," Beth said as she joined them.

"Pony's grandchildren are making ornaments, too," Darry said. "Well, Jacob is still too little, but he'll be making them in a few years."

"When you were a kid, did you think you'd see your grandchildren carrying on the tradition?" Beth asked.

"No," Darry admitted. "But it's nice to see the tradition continue."

He looked at Hannah and Alexis who were busy with their ornaments. As he watched them, he could almost see himself and his brothers when they used to make their ornaments. Darry and Ponyboy each had half of the ornaments that were made during their childhood. On his tree at home, Darry had a special spot for that angel he made when he was four. He always hung her front and center so that everyone would be able to see her.

[Liz]

Aw, this was so cute! I loved the way the tradition continued through the years. My mom still has all of the ornaments my sister and I made over the years, and so far I have the ones my sons have made since preschool.

One of the little subtle details that really stood out to me and made this so much deeper was the comment that years later, there were a lot fewer red and gold balls. It had a way of filling in some of the in-between space, giving a mental image of other years when somebody dropped a treeball, one fell off after getting bumped into, a cat knocking one down, etc.

My only comment is that (if I'm doing the math correctly), Soda would be a couple of months old for his first Christmas, and Darry would be almost four. But that's only if you use S.E.'s birthday list. If you've got Darry's birthday being between Soda's and Christmas, the ages are fine.

Great job, Greaserfreak!

Liz (NIttanylizard)

[sharpshooter]

That was pretty good, reminds me of my own Christmas tree that's strewn with ornaments me and my sibblings have made.

Aw, I can imagien the three of them sitting around a table, Darry's ornament all neat and prim, Sodapop's a glittery mess, and Ponyboy useing everythign available to make his unique.

[missmouse]

That was great, greaserfreak. The way you wrote Mrs. Curtis is just the way I imagine her... Very loving, very considerate, very understanding... That was a nice piece, festive I suppose you could say..

I have a plot in my head, but it's going to be a real wench to type it up.

[Maddiecake]

Cinnamon Bear

<sup>I used to love Cinnamon Bear. It was my favorite part of the holidays, when I would turn on the radio at seven and listen to the adventures of Judy and Jimmy in Maybeland, and sometimes I would pretend that I was with them, traveling around with Paddy O’Cinnamon, or “The Cinnamon Bear”. It always made me smile, and distracted me from other issues in my life.

Robert never really caught onto what I was doing when I would haul up in my room for about fifteen minuets, the radio blaring. I’m sure if he did know, I wouldn’t be able to listen to it anymore. Because of this, I made sure that he was never around when I tuned in. This way, I could just sit... and listen.

See, at my house we never did anything for Christmas. No tree strewn with ornaments like at the Curtis’ or Two-Bit’s house, and no lights or nativity scene. It was kind of funny... in our neighborhood around Christmas, if you put up some decorations, I mean really put some time into it, nobody would go near the thing. It was like they knew that you were proud as hell of it, and so they didn’t want to ruin something so festive.

Christmas at my house consisted mainly of me waking up and peering anxiously out the door of my room, wondering if maybe, just maybe Santa had stopped off this year. I was a little kid at the time, so I was just hoping he had come by and dropped something for me in the sock I hung up by the television. We didn’t have a fireplace.

Every year it was the same old thing: nothing, nothing, nothing, and I’d wonder what bad thing I’d done to get skipped this year. Then at around noon my mother and Robert would wake up, mom trying to be a good parent and give me a one-armed hug, murmuring “merry Christmas, Jonathan” before stumbling into the kitchen to get herself something to eat.

Because it was Christmas, most of the bars were closed and Robert would just moan about bartenders, how they should keep their doors open for poor souls like him who didn’t have anything to look forward to except the paycheck, and even that wasn’t enough to make them happy. By three he would be drunk, slurring his words and yelling at my mom, who’d try to quiet him down at first but slowly start yelling at him.

By the time I was ten, I never even got that hug, and she never tried to keep him quiet. Luckily, by that time I’d met the Curtis’, and even though Mrs. Curtis invited me over every Christmas, I didn’t spend a lot of time over there. I didn’t want to impose on their good time, and I hated it when they fussed over me.

Besides... the last episode of Cinnamon Bear was on, and I never got tired of listening to it, even if by age eight I could recite it from memory, it was what I really loved to look forward to.

Of course times change... and people get older. I didn’t listen to Cinnamon Bear anymore because it was a baby program, and besides... there were better things to do. On Christmas break I would hang out with the guys, go see movies and stuff like that, never worrying about what would happen to Judy and Jimmy, Paddy O’Cinnamon and the Crazy Quilt dragon. What did I care, anyway? They were just some made up characters on an old radio show.

So at fifteen I had almost forgotten about those nights spent listening to the magical adventures in Maybeland. Thoughts of girls and parties had replaced the imagination that it took to make the stories come to life in your head and the guys would have teased me if I had come over to ask them if I could use their radio to listen to it because my radio was broken.

Then one day, something happened. It wasn’t scarring, funny or even particularly important, but it’s a moment that I’m really sure will stick with me for a long time.

It’s one of the days where nobody else is around except Two-Bit, and he suggests we go see a movie at one of the theaters. He doesn’t like movies... I don’t like movies, but he thinks it’ll be good for a laugh, so I follow along. He’s usually right about those kinds of things.

We’re walking down the street, trying to look as tuff as we can and keep our cigarettes lighted even though it’s freezing cold and neither of us have very good protection against the wind when who comes along but Paddy O’Cinnamon! Or... a guy dressed as Paddy O’Cinnamon. He had a costume on, one of those ones with the big heads that have half see-through eyes so the guy inside it can look where he’s going, and a green bow around the neck. The face had a big grin on it, and a santa hat was sitting on its head.

As we stop to watch the progression of the bear, little kids run up, waving frantically at him and shouting gleefully when he waves back and pats them on the head. They run back to their parents, chattering excitedly.

I glance over at Two-Bit and get a sick feeling in my stomach, seeing that glint in his eye that said he was really up to something. Before I can push him along he runs across the street to meet Cinnamon Bear. I watch as he throws an arm around his shoulder and loudly exclaims just how much he loves the program and him. He even goes so far as to fiddle with the tie before loping back to me.

Something is building up inside of me and as we walk down the street towards the theater I wipe furiously at my eyes in an attempt to stop the tears that shouldn’t even be falling.</sup>


I wasn't quite sure if this would count... Johnny strikes me as the kind of guy who would actually enjoy listening to the program and I love it, plus this kind of happened to me today except it was my little brother yelling out the window of our car at him and I felt so BAD for the guy... it was sad.

But yes... here it is.

[sharpshooter]

Aw, that story made me smile, Maddiecake. I've actually never heard of this Maybeland and Cinnamon Bear, but that's 'cause I'm usually too busy watching the Power Rangers Christmas Special during this season. -which I don't suggest to anyone, it may be Mighty Morphing Power Rangers, but it still kind of sucks, which makes me wonder why I even watch it...-

Anyways, good work.

[Nittanylizard]

Maddiecake - I thought you did a great job with that! Especially Johnny growing up, growing wiser, and expecting less and less from the world around him.

The ending had just the right punch to it - not over the top or anything, but giving a really good image of that nostalgic feeling you get when you realize that it's over, you will never be a kid again. I could see Johnny having the sensitivity to feel something like this. Nice work .

Liz

[Tensleep]

I am so happy with the responses thus far! Great job, guys!

Greaserfreak: I love how this one goes above and beyond into the different generations. It shows the tradition being passed on and I love the warmth coming from it. Great job!

Maddiecake: The bitter side of Christmas, but necessary all the same. Great job with the disillusioned feeling. I agree with Liz, you captured the wariness that he's learned so well. Great job.

Keep 'em coming!

[sharpshooter]

Santa's Comin' To Tulsa

“No, don’t leave!”

“Please, Darry, we need you to stay!”

“C’mon, we don’t have to go to bed for a whole ‘nother fifteen minutes!”

Darry smiled down at the three, his buddies kid sisters and brother. They were a persistent bunch, always clinging to his arms and legs when he tried to leave. It didn’t seem to matter how sly he tried to be, there’d always be one of them to alert the others he was heading for the door.

Paul came sauntering to the door, shooing the kids away with irritation. He didn’t have as much patience with them as Darry, but then, he did have to deal with them 24/7.

” I don’t know what it is about you, they hide from everyone else,” Paul was saying as we walked to the bus stop,” Anyways, your folks won’t be upset over you staying out this late?”

“Naw, I’ll be just in time for decorating the cookies.”

The bus pulled up to the stop, and the two waved to each other as Darry got in. He had to fish around in his pocket to find some change for the fee, and the driver was sending him aggravated looks. If Darry had to work on Christmas Eve though, he guessed he’d probably be a little steamed too.

He stared down at his ragged, mud stained shoes as the bus drove along, more people getting off then on. By the time the bus had gotten to his stop, it was only him, the bus driver, and some guy sitting in the very back talking to himself. He tried flashing the driver a sympathetic smile as he was getting off, but the door was slammed shut in his face before he could.

Jogging through the dark, Darry made sure to keep to the center of the street, moving to the side only for a passing car. The North side of Tulsa looked shabby compared to Paul’s neighborhood on the South side. There almost every house was bright with lights for the season; here you could see only a couple of Christmas trees shining through the windows.

Now, not saying he wasn’t grateful to live in the house his parents provided, in the neighborhood that just happened to be on the wrong side of town, but maybe if the people living here had a bit more pride in what their houses looked like…

Slowing to a walk when he came to the front yard of his house, a grin spread across his face at the two faces peering out the front window. His two brothers had probably been like that for hours, waiting for him to get home so they could start the Curtis Family Christmas Events.

“Finally, you’re home!” Sodapop bounced up to Darry’s side the moment he stepped into the warmly lit house, an impatient tone to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, calm down kid,” Darry put a hand on Soda’s head, shaking it playfully as he finished shedding his coat and shoes,” Where’s the other one so we can get started?”

Sodapop distracted himself with a toy soldier he’d just discovered on the closet floor, and it took him a moment to bring his focus back to his older brother,” Hunh? Oh, yeah, he went to get Momma and Stink-Head.”

“Stink-Head?” how Sodapop got away with calling their father names like that, Darry’d never figure out.

Soda didn’t have a chance to explain the title. Ponyboy came to usher the two of them into the dining room, where their mother had set freshly baked cookies on the table with multi-colored frostings.

“Ooh! I call the green and purple frostings first! And the airplane cookie-“

“But I thought you said I could have the airplane cookie?!”

“Oh, well, I guess I did, but I changed my mind-“

“Bug Brains, are we causing trouble?”

Sodapop giggled at the name, and went to play tackle his dad, declaring that “No one calls me Bug Brains and gets away with it!”.

Darry sat himself across from his youngest brother, ignoring the fight going on behind him. Ponyboy had already started on the airplane, grabbing it while Sodapop was busy. Darry figured he’d probably start on a cookie too, so he could be finished before his brother and father started hogging the icing.

“Darry?” He looked up, surprised at the serious expression Ponyboy suddenly dawned.

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear anything while you were outside?”

Darry slapped a bit more blue frosting on the teddy bear cookie he’d picked out, a smile tugging at his lips,” Why?”

“Well, ya’ know, maybe, since its dark and all, Santa might have started bringing presents…” Ponyboy had been informed recently by Sodapop that Santa Clause didn’t exist, and he had been slowly prodding Darry and his parents to see if Soda was right.

“Ya’ know, now that you mention it-“

“Mention what?” Sodapop was at Darry’s side now, panting from the play fight as he started slapping green and purple on a candy cane cookie.

Ponyboy frowned at him,” None of your biz-e-ness.”

Sodapop stuck a tongue out at him and went back to his cookie, acting like he didn’t care anyways. Darry could tell he was still trying to learn what they were talking about though, especially when he started using just one color at once, applying it slowly.

He leaned forward across the table, Ponyboy doing the same so that Darry could whisper something in his ear. Sodapop ‘accidentally’ elbowed his older brother in the side as he reached for a different color, but was still ignored.

“Ok!” Ponyboy was grinning ear to ear, but suddenly remembered Sodapop,” Whadda ‘bout him?”

Darry turned to look at Soda suspiciously,” You wanna come out and watch for Santa Clause with us? I know your too old for it an all, but I think Pony here would like it if ya’ did.”

Sodapop shrugged, trying not to show his excitement at the idea,” I guess, if Pony really wants me too…”

“C’mon then!” Ponyboy jumped up from the table, followed by his two brothers through the kitchen and out the back door.

They stood on the back patio, searching the sky for any signs of a sled and reindeer. Darry felt ten years old again, looking into the darkness like he would see Rudolph’s red nose any second.

“I don’t see ‘em,” Sodapop was squinting, shifting on his bare feet.

“Wait,” Darry looked at his two brothers, letting out a small gasp,” Ya’ hear that?”

“Hear what?!” The two jumped to attention, trying to hear what their older brother was,” I don’t hear anything!”

“Wait for it…”

There was a few moments of silence, before jingling bells could be heard coming from the distance. Darry knew what would be coming next, his father’s disguised voice laughing as if it were far off in the sky. Sodapop’s eyes glistened, not believing his ears.

“See, I told ya’! You didn’t believe in him, but I did! And I told ya’!” Ponyboy was jumping up and down with joy,” I told ya’!”

Sodapop playfully nudged Pony,” Yeah, yeah, you don’t hafta rub it in.”

“Boys, you going to finish these cookies?”

“Yeah Ma, on second,” Darry called over his shoulder, herding his two brothers back inside.

Hours later, even as they were getting into bed, the littlest two still couldn’t stop talking about Santa Clause, though their story had changed when they retold it to their parents. Suddenly, they had even seen Santa flying by, and he had said hello to them. Darry and Dad had shared knowing looks, while Ma listened to the animated story with interest, even if Sodapop was getting purple frosting everywhere.

[Tensleep]

I love the introduction of Paul and his little siblings. The fact they worship Darry makes me chuckle. Then the comparison of the brother's relationship at home was perfect. Excellent job, Sharpshooter! Keep up the good work!

[Tensleep]

Ok, this is the first time I have finished something to post on here in what feels like forever. So I'm feeling pretty accomplished. Thanks to Zickachik for the beta job - I was definitely fried when I wrote this.

Up on the House Top

By Tensleep


“What do you mean Santa’s not real?”

I glanced up from the homework I was doing over to where Mom was standing looking sad. Ponyboy was looking up at her defiantly, his arms crossed over his chest. I raised an eyebrow at that. He was the good one, for the most part. Sweet, quiet and he liked to help Mom with anything she could think of. But tonight he was giving her a run for her money.

“Santa is not real,” Pony repeated, looking mad.

“Who told you that?” Mom asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Everybody!” He yelped and Mom blinked. “Not even one of the kids in my grade still believes in Santa.”

“They’re all a year older than you – ”

“They called me a baby for still believing in Santa. I’m ten, Mom, and I almost got into a fight over a man who isn’t real!”

I had to admit that at ten I didn’t believe in Santa anymore, but this was Ponyboy. Mom, Dad, Sodapop, and I worked hard to make sure he still believed in stuff like that. It had nothing to do with being a baby – it was more so we felt useful. Mom and Dad had tried to do the same with Sodapop and me, but I faced facts around my seventh birthday and Sodapop was far too curious for his own good around the age of eight. We’d lost the magic early on. I was sad to see Ponyboy losing the magic, too.

“Pony – ” Mom tried again but he was shaking his head and staring at the floor.

“Santa’s not real and I don’t want to make cookies just so we can all pretend,” he told her before stepping around her and starting off down the hall.

Mom glanced over at me and I offered her a sympathetic look.

“My baby’s growing up,” she stated.

I felt like sighing then. You want to know what started this little scene? Mom had asked Ponyboy if he wanted to help her make some Christmas cookies. They made them every year just for Santa. But this year there was no Santa and that meant there wouldn’t be any cookies. I frowned. I really liked those Christmas cookies and I was almost tempted to tell Mom I still believed if it got the cookies baked. What mostly got me, though, was how Mom looked just a little sad. Ponyboy was growing up and they seemed to do less and less together since he was desperate that no one considered him a baby. There was no way we could keep Ponyboy believing in Santa Claus forever, but maybe we needed this Christmas so we could be prepared for next year and Mom wouldn’t be so sad.

I glanced down at my Trigonometry homework and decided that now was as good a time as any to take a break. So I stood and stretched before making my way down the hall. There was a sign hanging off Soda and Pony’s bedroom door that advertised it was “The Fox Den”. They were really into comics lately – particularly Batman and his bat cave. So they were having meetings in there with Two-Bit, Steve, and Johnny that were top secret, even if you were their big brother who lived right across the hall. I usually just smiled and was happy they were out of my hair, but sometimes being the oldest and being excluded was harder than it looked. As a show of good faith, I didn’t bother telling them that Foxes had holes, not dens. I was surprised Ponyboy hadn’t pointed that fact out, but he hadn’t and the sign remained.

“Who’s there?” Soda asked as soon as I knocked on the door.

“Me,” I replied.

“Me who?”

“Sodapop,” I warned and he opened the door, looking up at me like I was one of our parents in disguise.

“Oh, hi Darry. What can I do for you?” he asked, opening the door more, so he wasn’t squinting to look through it.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

“About what?”

“Ponyboy,” I replied.

“Sure. It’s a good thing that he’s not in here then.”

I followed Sodapop into their room and sat down on Pony’s bed so we could talk. He sat down as well and gave me an inviting nod.

“Ponyboy doesn’t believe in Santa this year,” I told him and he nodded.

“I know. He told me,” he replied. “He seemed upset.”

“Well, what’s got me worried is Mom is upset. They’re not making cookies this year.”

Soda gaped at me and shook his head. “That’s just mean.”

“Do you think the Musketeers can do anything?” I asked and Soda smirked.

Two-Bit, Steve, and Sodapop were pretty much inseparable. I figured they’d grow apart once they discovered girls, but for now they were the Musketeers - three best friends who generally managed to cause more mischief than anything, but they all cared about Ponyboy and Two-Bit practically lived off Mom’s cookies when he came around during Christmas.

“We'll think up something,” Soda assured me and I nodded before leaving the room.

It was a week later on Christmas Eve when I started to wonder what Sodapop had in mind. I had convinced Mom to let me help her make the cookies, but there was still Ponyboy who was determined that since there was no Santa, there shouldn’t be a Christmas.

Mom and Dad were clearly not happy, but they were ignoring the behavior for right now. We settled down in the living room with the radio playing the Christmas music. It was barely ten when Sodapop sent me a sly smile and faked a long yawn.

“Man, I'm tired. Better get to sleep so Santa will come.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Ponyboy told him and Soda shrugged.

“Maybe so, but if there is a Santa Claus, I’m getting on his good side. C’mon, Pone. Let’s get some sleep.”

Pony got up with a sigh, but still went over and hugged Mom good night and then wished Dad a merry Christmas before disappearing down the hall.

“What do you think Sodapop is up to?” Dad asked over the top of the paper.

“He’s Soda,” I offered. “They’re probably waiting for us to go to bed so they can lay out Santa traps.”

Dad smirked. He and I used to do the same thing when I was small. We always seemed to fall sleep before he got there, though. Now that I was older, there was no denying that Mom and Dad were the ones who made sure we each had a present on Christmas morning. With our budget, it was easier to believe in Santa.

“Well, let’s not spoil their fun,” Mom suggested, tucking her sewing away. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart”

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I replied, giving her a hug.

“Get to bed, Junior. Santa’ll be here soon,” Dad said with a smirk and I smirked back before heading down the hall to bed.

It was maybe a couple hours later when I heard the first thump. I sat up, looking around the room and wondering where it was coming from. I listened again and nearly forgot to breathe when I heard a distinct thump on the roof. It was not Santa. It couldn’t be. I was out of bed a moment later and leaning out the window, craning to see anything on the roof. I barely ducked my head back in the window as a clump of snow fell from the roof and hit the bushes below.

There was someone on the roof. I was less inclined to believe it was Santa and more inclined to believe someone was playing a bad prank. So I threw on some sweats and a sweater from the closet before grabbing my baseball bat and making my way out into the hallway.

“Darry?” Pony asked sleepily from his doorway. “What’s going on?”

“There’s someone on the roof.”

“Santa?” Pony asked sleepily and I nodded.

“Sure, but he’s going to leave if he knows you’re awake. Go back to bed.”

Pony nodded and yawned widely before disappearing back into his room.

I sighed and tightened my fingers on the bat, moving down the hall. I paused at the back door to slip my shoes on and made my way into the backyard so I could see who was up there. I was surprised there weren’t more thumps because it looked like at least three of them up there.

“Hey!” I called, catching the attention of the figures on the roof. “What the hell are you doing up there?”

“Darry!”

“Soda?” I asked, absolutely confused now.

“Yeah. Can you get the ladder?” he called and I frowned.

“What are you doing on the roof?”

“Well, that’s an interesting story,” Two-Bit’s voice came from the roof.

I groaned. Two-Bit's stories were always interesting and rarely true.

“See, Sodie here told us we needed to play Santa so the kid would believe,” he continued. “Then Stevie here suggested we stomp on the roof.”

“That was your idea!” Steve snapped and Two-Bit seemed to ignore him.

“So we got up there and stomped around,” he concluded.

“Well, he heard you. You can come down now before you wake Mom and Dad,” I informed them.

“Well, there’s the problem…” Two-Bit trailed off.

“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing I wasn’t going to like the answer.

“Well, we can’t get down,” Soda answered.

“How’d you even get up there?”

“We climbed,” Steve replied. “But Two-Bit slipped and ripped the down spout clean off.”

“We caught him,” Soda assured me. “But with the spout down, we can’t climb.”

“Great,” I muttered. “Stay there and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Where does he think we’d go?” Steve muttered and Two-Bit chuckled.

I sighed and went into the house, making my way down the hall to my parents’ room. They were both asleep and I wasn’t sure about waking them, but I didn’t know what to do. So I nudged Dad’s shoulder in the dark and he turned over, blinking at me.

“Can you get dressed and come help me with something?” I whispered. “It’s important.”

Dad nodded. “Do I need to wake your mother?”

“Not yet.”

That got Dad moving and he joined me in the hall a minute later. I waved him out back with me and closed the door behind us.

“What’s going on?” Dad asked.

“Soda’s stuck on the roof.”

“What?” Dad asked, darting into the yard so he could look for himself. “Sodapop! What are you…Is that Keith and Steve with you?”

“Hi Dad,” Soda offered with a wave.

“Hey, Mr. C!” Two-Bit chimed in.

“How’d they get up there?” Dad asked, smiling a little.

“They climbed up the down spout,” I replied.

“Wow. That’s really something.” Dad smiled brighter and I shook my head.

Dad and Sodapop were a lot alike. They both seemed to think that this was amusing, too. Mom was whom I should have woken up. She would have yelled herself hoarse at Sodapop by now.

“Dad, how are we going to get them down?” I asked and Dad sighed.

“I think this is a good time to wake you mother.”

A few minutes later, Mom was standing in the snow with us, her housecoat pulled around her. She was gaping up at the scene on the roof and the three elves on the roof didn’t have anything to say now.

“Sodapop Patrick Curtis! You get down here this moment!” She yelled.

“They’re stuck up there, Ellie,” Dad explained.

“Why were they even up there in the first place?” She asked.

“Well, that’s an interesting story…” Two-Bit started.

“Be quiet, Keith,” she shushed him. “Go get the ladder, Darry.”

“A ladder!” Two-Bit groaned hitting his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

I trudged to the shed and pulled out the ladder. It wasn’t nearly tall enough and Mom sighed when she got a look at it.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to have to call the fire department,” she sighed. “All three of you sit still and we’ll have you down in a bit. No horsing around or you will all be in trouble.”

“Yes ma’am,” all three chorused back. Mom headed into the house while Dad and I stood out in the yard to keep an eye on things.

Half an hour later, a fire truck pulled up with its lights off and its siren quiet. I recognized Mr. Johnston and wasn’t surprised. Mom and his wife were good friends, so she probably called him directly. Ten minutes after that, the four firemen were drinking hot chocolate in the dining room while Two-Bit, Steve, and Sodapop were ordered to sit around the kitchen table. All three of them were curled around warm mugs and buried under a quilt.

Mom had given all three of them disapproving looks while Dad had smiled from behind his coffee mug. I leaned against the kitchen counter and hoped things would hurry along so I could get back to bed. Ponyboy was still asleep, which wasn’t surprising when you considered he could probably sleep through a tornado in his room.

“Alright, you three. You are never to go near that roof again, understood?” Mom asked and all three bobbed their heads solemnly. “Now, finish your drinks. Bob said he would take you two home where you belong. Your mothers must be in a panic by now.”

“You think they’ll let us run the siren?” Two-Bit asked Steve who shook his head.

“They didn’t even ring it when we were in trouble,” he replied.

“Yeah, but I bet I can charm them into letting me give it a whirl,” Two-Bit replied and they both disappeared out of the kitchen and a moment later it was back to just the family.

“Let’s get to bed. Tomorrow’s Christmas,” Dad suggested and Mom threw Sodapop another disappointed look before nodding.

The next morning, Ponyboy had been the same excited kid he always had been. He’d smiled and told us all Santa was really real. It was the best Christmas gift we could have hoped to give Mom, even with the events of the night before. And to think the whole thing started over our cookie tradition.

This year is our first Christmas since the accident. Ponyboy doesn’t want to make cookies because Mom isn’t here. All three of us are hurting, but I can’t agree with Pony that there shouldn’t be a Christmas without them. Mom and Dad wouldn’t want that. So this year, I made the cookies on my own and wished that a few thumps on the roof could fix everything this time.

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper to the empty kitchen.

And hopefully, one day it would be again.

The End

[Nittanylizard]

sharpshooter - It took me three times of coming back here to read through it and finally comment (lots of interruptions this week, hahahah), but finally!

I loved the little fun conspiracy Darry and his dad had, and I think one of the things that makes it shine through is the fact that the two of them don't even interact during the story. The beginning was good too, with Darry noticing the differences between the two sides of town, and that they don't all point to things being worse on his side (but, he gets that part of it has to do with attitudes). Nice touch with the grumpy bus driver, and Darry's subtle attempt at showing the guy he gets it.

Tens - I will be back in a bit to read yours. I had an idea of my own while falling asleep (rather, trying to fall asleep) last night, so maybe I'll actually get one on this month, too .