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The Christmas Wish
By Jean GoldstromShe sat alone in her small apartment, the woman of a certain age with the youthfully colored hair and the tale-telling line face. Switching off the TV, she remarked to the big red tomcat lazing in her lap, "Tommy, I can't take any more of this Christmas slush."
The tom opened one golden eye and purred softly.
"Where's James Bond when you really need him?" the woman sighed, aloud.
She had gotten into the habit of chatting with the cat, since he alone remained to listen. The husband was dead, the child gone. A person has to talk to someone, the woman occasionally remarked to the cat.
"Well, we've gotten through this much of it, Tommy," she said, stroking the cat's minky fur. "Christmas Eve is practically gone - what a relief. It's almost midnight. Let's get our long winter's nap. We can sleep until noon tomorrow, and by ten there might be some decent programming on TV."
The woman gently dumped Tommy onto the floor. She rose and headed for the kitchen to make her nightly cup of cocoa.
As she drank it, she looked out the kitchen window. Holiday lights twinkled in the windows of other apartments, and in the lighted pine tree in front of the building. Earlier, carolers had surrounded it, singing the old songs and a few of the newer ones. "So This Is
Christmas" always brought a tear to the woman's eye - she didn't really know why.
Finishing the cocoa, she made her way to the bedroom. No holiday decorations or lights for her putting them up was a chore, and taking them down was a bore.
She brushed her teeth, hung her robe on a hook behind the door, and climbed into bed. Pulling the satiny quilt up, she patted the spot beside her. Tommy jumped up and settled down. She turned out the light and closed her eyes.
Then the room became bright. The woman opened her eyes. "What -- ?"
A small person, seemingly wearing only sparkles of light, sat on the foot of her bed. "Hello, and merry Christmas," the small person said, cheerfully.
"Hello," the woman answered. "And merry Christmas yourself. What can I do for you - before you leave?" she asked, pointedly.
The small person laughed like a tinkly jingle bell, and shook a hairstyle of short blonde ringlets. "No, I'm here to do something for you. I'll grant your Christmas wish. What is it?"
"Oh, really," the woman sighed, but with a smile. "Cliche dreams. I hate them. A Christmas wish, indeed."
"No, really," said the small person, earnestly. "I'm for real, and your Christmas wish will come true, for real. Why do you think there are some many Christmas wish stories? There really are such things. Come on, what do you wish for?"
The woman sat up in bed and propped her chin on her hand. "Okay, peace on earth. How's that?" She asked, with a grin.
"That's a good wish," the small person said. "But it's kind of general. I work in the Personal Wish Department. I have to do a personal wish for you."
"Personal wish?" The woman looked thoughtful. "I have a decent job. My health is good. I wouldn't know what to wish for."
Softly, the small person said, "Your husband is dead. Your son hasn't spoken to you for five years. He's so self absorbed he doesn't know there's anyone else in the world."
"Ah, you've met him, I see," the woman said, with a bitter smile.
"No, but I do my research," the small person said, with no smile at all.
"And you're going to make all this better with one wish?" the woman said, smiling more gently now.
"It's all I've got," said the small person, almost sadly.
"Well," the woman said, sitting up in bed and swinging her feet to the floor to find her slippers. "Let's see. Shall I wish my husband back from the dead? Of course I miss him. Every day. But I don't miss seeing him get sicker and suffer more every day."
The small person looked sad.
"My sonny boy? Should I wish that he changes enough to talk to me again? And tell me what new way he's found to mess up his life and everyone's around him again? Besides," she smiled, "he loves himself the way he is. How could I change that?"
The small face fell a bit more and a tiny tear formed in a small eye.
The woman continued. "Don't you have to go somewhere? It's probably getting near morning, and time for me to wake up --"
"I'm not a dream, really. I can change some things..."
"It's okay," the woman sighed. "I'm used to -- "
"Oh," the small person squeaked. "I know! May I make a suggestion?"
The woman raised her eyebrows, questioningly.
The small one leaped up, scampered to the woman's side, stood on tiptoe and whispered in her ear.
The woman's eyebrows rose further. "You can do that? Really?"
The small person nodded.
The woman laughed. "If this is a dream, it's one of my better ones," she said. "Go ahead."
The small person turned back to the bed where the big cat curled in deep slumber. Her tiny hand stroked his gleaming fur, and a few of her sparkles fell on him.
"Merry Christmas," whispered the tiny one to the big cat, and to the woman. Some of her sparkles fell on the cat, and some n the woman.
"The same to you," said the woman, with a genuinely cheerful smile. But the person she spoke to had disappeared.
Tommy opened one eye, then both of them. Stretching luxuriously from head to toe - and his toes touched the footboard - he asked, in a pleasant baritone, "Is she gone?"
"Yes," the woman gasped, staring at the handsome man whose only resemblance to the Tommy of a moment ago was his thick, shiny, red hair.
"Good," Tommy said. "I thought we'd never get any sleep. Turn the light off, okay?"
'Tommy!" the woman gasped. "You're a human!"
Tommy turned toward her with a grin. "Yep. You never saw that cat-to-human trick before? Hey, I'll bet there's a few others you haven't seen, either. Come here, dear one. I heard every one of those sweet words you said to me. Now I can say them back to you, plus!" And he reached out a warm, very human hand toward the woman.
She turned off the light, and neither of them noticed a few random sparkles that seemed to have take up permanent residence in the shadowy corners of the room, in the deep shadows that hovered just over the dawn of Christmas Day.
x-x-x
Jean Goldstrum, living somewhere in the warmth of Florida this chilly Christmas season, is the editor of the highly successful Anotherealm and Anoth-Antherealm. MSF&F is pleased to present another of her delightful tales this Holiday Season.
