A Christmas Wish

Joey held his mother’s hand, even though she didn’t move. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t make a sound except for the hiss of the machine that helped her breathe. He knew his time with her was almost over for the night, because his daddy didn’t want him to be scared. He didn’t know that Joey was always scared when he came to the hospital to see his mother. He was scared of the machines that beeped and blinked, and he was scared of the mean looking nurses who tried to be friendly but never smiled. He was scared every time he walked into his mother’s room and saw her lying on the bed with a tube sticking out of her mouth and her eyes taped shut. He knew it was his mother, and he knew it was the person who used to read him stories before bedtime and push him on the swings and fix peanut butter and banana sandwiches for him. But sometimes it didn’t seem like her. The person on the bed just seemed like a stranger he’d never known before.

So he was scared all the time. It didn’t matter how long he stayed in his mother’s hospital room.

“It’s time to go, buddy.”

Joey shook his head. He didn’t want to go yet. He thought he heard his mom make a sound. She’d wake up anytime now.

“Joey…”

His father’s voice trembled and Joey looked up as a hollow pain opened up in his belly. He knew—somehow, he knew—what was going to happen next. All day, he’d felt like something bad was going to happen. Even though it was Christmas Eve, and nothing bad was ever supposed to happen on Christmas Eve, he knew it was coming.

A doctor entered the hospital room, followed by a few of the nurses Joey liked. They all looked at him like they expected him to start crying.

“Joey… c’mere.” His dad sat down and pulled him over onto his lap. His mother’s hand slipped out of his and fell onto the bed, still. Joey couldn’t look away from it. She still had the cut on her finger from the slip of the scissors when they were making Christmas ornaments. That had just been a few days ago. Before the accident. Before everything changed.

“Your mom… is really hurt.”

Joey looked at his dad and saw the tears in his eyes. It started his own tears again. But this time he wasn’t going to make a sound. He wasn’t going to cry like a baby. He was going to cry quiet, like Dad.

“But she’s going to wake up, isn’t she?” Joey wiped his nose on his shirt and tried not to cry. “She’s just asleep.”

“No, Joey,” the doctor said, and Joey’s dad seemed to collapse in on himself, covering his face with one hand as he sobbed. “We’ll let you say your goodbyes.”

“Daddy…?” Joey felt that hollowness inside him spread. His father kept crying, harder now, unable to even answer him. “Where’s Mommy going? Daddy?”

“Joey, your mother…” the doctor hesitated, glancing up at Joey’s father, and then looked back to him again. “Your mother is hurt very badly. She’s… her brain was hurt in the car accident. It can’t keep her body alive by itself anymore.”

Joey shook his head. He didn’t understand. Mommy was alive now. She was breathing. She was just asleep.

But before he could ask any questions, his father was lifting him into the air, holding him over his mother in the bed. From this angle, he could see where they had shaved her head, see the staples in her skull. Her eyes were blackened and swollen shut. Her skin was covered with dozens of cuts.

She didn’t look like his mother. She looked like a monster.

“Give your mommy a kiss goodbye,” his dad whispered.

At that moment, Joey understood more than any of the adults in the room thought he could ever comprehend. He understood that he would never see his mother alive again. He understood that this was a real goodbye, not just the kind of goodbye he used to tell her when he was leaving for school in the morning.

This was the end. Forever.

Joey began to cry again, and when he kissed his mother’s forehead, her skin already felt cold.

*****

The house had been decorated for Christmas before the accident, even though no one noticed the lights or presents anymore. Joey sat on the couch, staring at the Christmas lights on the tree. His father had gone to bed with a bottle in his hand, and Joey knew that meant that Daddy wouldn’t be awake for a long time. He was by himself.

And it was Christmas Eve.

He’d written a letter to Santa, just like he did every year. His mother had helped him and they’d laughed about all the toys he’d asked Santa to bring him. She’d said that she didn’t know if Santa would be able to fit all those toys in his sleigh and that Rudolph would probably get a hernia pulling such a heavy load. Then they went into the kitchen and made sugar cookies and Mom said she would mail the letter first thing in the morning on her way to work.

But then that other car had driven through a red light and hit his mom’s car headfirst and everything changed.

Joey didn’t want any of those toys anymore. He didn’t want anything but to talk to his mother again. He wished Santa could give him that.

Mom had always told him that Santa was magic, and that he could do anything in the world for good kids. Joey had always believed in Santa, and he’d always believed that Mom was right. Santa was magic. Santa would bring him what he wanted, if he asked for it.

His heart started to beat a little harder. Joey crawled off the couch and went over to his mom’s desk, where they’d written the first letter to Santa. He found paper and a pen, and with his best handwriting, he wrote his letter. He started crying a few times, and the tears blurred the ink a little, but he thought Santa would still be able to read it.

When he finished, he set out a plate of cookies and a glass of milk and put the letter right on top, where Santa would be sure to see it.

Santa would bring him what he wanted most. He had to.

Joey crawled underneath the Christmas tree and watched the plate of cookies and the letter until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

And when he dreamed, he dreamed of his mother waking up.

*****

The next morning, there was no smell of pancakes in the air, as there had been for every Christmas Joey could remember. He heard the television in the bedroom. Dad was watching the news, from the sound of it. Lots of people yelling. Sirens blared just outside—police cars, ambulances, fire trucks.

Joey crawled out from underneath the tree.

The letter was gone. A few bites had been taken from the cookie. The glass was empty.

“Dad!” Joey’s eyes widened as he backed away, unwilling to look away from the table for even a moment, just in case he was imagining everything. “Dad! Santa came! Santa came!”

He ran into the bedroom. Dad was still in bed, asleep on his side with his back to the door. There were brown bottles everywhere. Pills crunched under his feet as he stepped closer to the bed. Joey shook his shoulder, gently at first, then harder.

Dad didn’t move.

“Dad! Wake up!” Joey pulled his father over onto his back. “Dad?”

It took him a moment to realize that Dad’s eyes were wrong. They were cloudy white and open wide. He didn’t blink.

Joey realized that his father’s skin felt as cold as his mother’s had felt the night before.

And that he wasn’t breathing. His mouth was open, but he wasn’t breathing.

“Daddy?” Joey took a step back.

Joey thought he heard screaming—muffled but still very loud—from another apartment. For a second, he thought he might scream too, but he couldn’t make a sound. More screaming from the television, and Joey saw images of weird looking people attacking other people. There was a lot of blood. A lot of screaming. It was like watching a scary movie.

But Joey didn’t care about that.

Because his father was sitting up now.

“Daddy?” Joey wanted to go to him, but something deep inside him told him to get away. “Are you okay?”

His father raised his head, noticing him for the first time. His eyes were still cloudy. His mouth still hung open. He still wasn’t breathing.

But somehow he still managed to lunge for Joey.

Dad’s fingers just grazed his arm, but Joey managed to hop back just in time. His father fell onto the floor face first, hard enough for Joey to hear his nose pop and break, but when he raised his head again, there was no blood.

And Joey knew that whatever had happened, his father wasn’t his father anymore.

Dad moaned, an awful sound that came from deep in his throat, and reached out for Joey, crawling forward on his knees.

Joey stumbled as he backed away.

His father kept coming for him.

People kept screaming on the television. They screamed in the apartments around them.

Joey wondered if other people’s daddies were doing this too, if that’s why everyone was so scared.

He started to cry. He couldn’t help it. He wanted his mom. He wanted his dad to quit scaring him.

But Dad kept coming, crawling on his hands and knees. His face was twisted up like he was mad, like he wanted to hurt him. His hand came down on a beer bottle and broke it, sending chunks of glass into his palm, but Joey didn’t see any blood. Dad didn’t even notice.

“Please, Daddy…” Joey fell into the table and sent the cookie plate and milk glass shattering to the floor.

The colored lights from the Christmas tree reflected in Dad’s eyes and made them glow red. His mouth watered, ropy drool hanging from his chin.

Joey couldn’t back away any further. The branches of the Christmas tree dug into his back. He could feel the faint heat of the lights against his skin. The door seemed a million miles away.

But Dad was right here. Right in front of him.

“Daddy…” Joey choked on his tears. “Please don’t…”

His father moved so fast. Joey felt the blood dripping onto his bare feet before he felt the pain of the bite in his shoulder. He heard the ripping of his clothes and skin as his father yanked a chunk of flesh away with his teeth.

And he watched, horrified, as his father chewed up the chunk, swallowed it, came in for another bite.

This time the pain came immediately, and Joey screamed louder and harder than he’d ever screamed before. He tried to push his father away, but he wasn’t strong enough. Dad pushed him back into the tree and Joey could smell the sticky pine sap mixing with his blood. Dad took another bite, and another…

…and then Dad was gone.

Joey fell away from the tree, curling up on the floor as he felt his blood pumping out of his shoulder and throat. At first he couldn’t focus, could only see vague pale shapes moving around the apartment.

But one of the shapes wore a red suit. And had a white beard.

Joey squeezed his eyes shut for a second and forced himself to focus.

Santa Claus was there. And he had his mittened hand around his father’s throat, holding him high off the floor.

Joey tried to speak, but his air kept gushing out of the hole in his throat. He wheezed, crawling forward, reaching for Santa.

Santa smiled broadly. His cheeks were a rosy red. His eyes twinkled. He smelled like candy canes and Christmas trees, and when he laughed his belly jiggled and jostled beneath his red velvet coat.

“You believed in me, Joey,” he said in a voice that filled the apartment. “So I gave you your Christmas wish. Everybody wants their loved ones back for one more Christmas, so…”

Santa stepped to the side, and Joey saw more people milling around the room. All of them looked as miserable and dead-eyed as his father. They moaned listlessly, staggering into each other, stumbling into walls.

And in the middle of them all, still wearing her hospital gown, was his mother.

Her gaze slid over him, past him, as her mouth lolled open and she took an unsteady step forward.

“Mom…?” Joey forced the word out. She had to recognize him. He was her little boy.

His mother turned toward the sound of his voice, her face twisting into a mask of hate. She was on him in just a few steps, her cold hands gripping his upper arms, pulling him close to her huge, open mouth. Joey tried to fight, but he couldn’t do much more than wiggle in her grasp.

She’s just kissing you goodnight, Joey thought as his mother’s teeth burrowed into his throat. She’s kissing you.

Joey’s vision blurred, blackened around the edges. Santa watched him, a strange smile on his face, his eyes not quite right.

“And to all, a good night…” Santa said with a chuckle, pressing the tip of his finger against the side of his nose. He glistened and sparkled for a moment, then disappeared.

And as Joey faded into darkness, he could hear the sound of sleigh bells jingling in the distance.

Then, he heard nothing but wet sounds and screaming.