?Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he??
?Clarence, It?s a Wonderful Life
?I want a white horse,? Sinjin blurted out to Pere Noel. The Spaniard had been clinging to Fio?s back like a spider monkey, his eyes the size of saucers as he stared at the red-suited man in the inn. ?Fio!? he?d hissed. ?It?s Santa!? Well. Ali had had no idea what Father Christmas? plans were for the man whose name likely graced the top of the Naughty List, but as soon as he?d seen Sinjin?s face, he?d known what he had to do.
?Come on,? he whispered to the animal, and gave the halter lead a tug. It?was it a he, or a she? He didn?t know?rolled its eyes up, dug its heels in, and refused to move past the pine trees. Thirty meters beyond, the barn and the house huddled close together, covered in a coat of snow; twenty meters past that, black winter breakers folded over the beach. ?It?s not so far, see?? He turned, pointed at the barn.
The horse was unconvinced.
?I promise! Ten minutes! You?ll be in a nice warm barn, and I?ll be in my nice warm bed. It?ll be fabulous! It?ll be fantastic!? He slid the lead over his shoulder, leaned in and started pulling.
The horse snorted.
?Don?t make me ride you,? he threatened it.
Thirty sweaty minutes later, he wrestled the monstrous beast up to the corral beside the barn and leaned against it, panting. ?Finest bloodlines, they said,? he snapped at it. ?Perfect Yule gift, they said. I think I just herniated myself.?
The horse peed on his foot.
After another twenty minutes of fumbling, drooling around the penlight clenched between his teeth, he got the barn door open. Warmth and the redolence of cut wood and fresh hay rolled over him, combating the cold sea air that was doing its damndest to freeze the sweat on his skin. He pulled the horse inside, rumbled the door shut on its track and collapsed onto a bale of hay.
Once he stopped gulping air, he realized he could hear someone muttering in the depths of the building. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Surely he hadn't just stumbled onto one of Sinjin and Salvador?s insane fantasy roleplay sessions?He swung the penlight up and around. Six stalls, three on a side. A brown goat glaring into the blue-white light. A stack of hay bales, an opened bag of grain. A wall hung with tack, which to his inexperienced eye looked like it had never been used. No Sinjin, no Salvador.
?Shine a flashlight in your eye, ya nutbag, see how much you like it,? the voice said. Dry, nasal, male, a little whiny.
Ali?s heart kicked in his chest. He passed the light over the interior again, stood?the horse promptly started eating the hay he?d been sitting on?and walked toward the back of the building. Nothing. Nobody in any of the stalls, but he had the strongest feeling that he was being watched. He stared at the wall. No windows. ?This is the part,? he told himself, the hair rising on the back of his neck, ?in the horror movie where the protagonist realizes that he?s trapped himself in the dark abandoned building with the killer.?
?I wish,? said the voice right behind him. "At least that'd be interesting."
He whirled. There was nobody but the goat and the horse by the door. ?Where are you?? He yelled. ?This isn?t funny!?
?Right here, douchenozzle,? said the goat. ?You always this stupid, or did you save it up for a special occasion??
Ali stared at the goat. The goat stared back.
?Okay,? said the goat. ?You really are this stupid. Look, I?ll use little words. I don?t need no freakin? roommate, see??
Ali stared at the goat.
?I got this place fixed up just the way I like it. You got any idea how long it takes to line up the straw so it all points in the right direction? You know how hard it is to get the grain bucket and the water bucket at ninety degrees? Horses poop! How am I supposed to keep everything clean when there?s poop everywhere, numbnuts?? the goat demanded.
?Piss off,? he told the goat, and stalked past it to the horse.
?OH MY GAH-AH-AH-AH-AD!? The goat bleated, and ran after him. ?You suck! He?s gonna screw everything up! I already take five baths a day!?
Ali grabbed the horse?s lead, dragged it away from the hay bale, and started hauling it toward the nearest stall. ?You,? he told the goat, ?get one half. The horse gets the other. Look at him, you?re the same height, he?s tiny. Half a barn is enough.?
?He?s gonna breathe on my stuff!? The goat yelled at him. ?And slobber! Horses slobber! I don?t care how little he is!?
Ali got the horse shoved into a stall and shut the door on it just in time to see a light go on in the house beyond. He whirled, dropped to a crouch, and clamped both hands over the goat?s muzzle. ?Shut it!? he hissed at the goat. ?Or I?ll make you into a stew!?
The goat?s eyes widened. It stopped yelling, but as soon as he took his hands away, it muttered, ?Buster, you are in so much trouble. You come in here screwin? up my barn like this, you can?t even imagine what I?m gonna tell them.?
?All right!? Ali whispered. ?Fine! You want a bribe? I?ll bribe you! I will give you a carrot a day for the next month if you just tell them Santa brought the horse!?
?Two carrots a day for a year,? the goat countered. Ali heard the back door of the house open and close. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
?Two carrots, six months!?
?And a sheet of paper once a week. I like ninety-pound bright white.?
?Deal!? Ali dove into a stall as the barn door rolled open. He ripped a hole in the Veil and crawled through it.
Behind him, he heard the goat calling, ?Yo! Sin! Look what that dou?uh, I mean Santa brung you!?
And Sinjin?s rough sleepy voice responded, bewildered, ?Wha???
Grinning, Ali let the hole snap shut behind him. ?Joyeux Noel, Sinjin,? he said to himself, and started the long road home.
?Clarence, It?s a Wonderful Life
?I want a white horse,? Sinjin blurted out to Pere Noel. The Spaniard had been clinging to Fio?s back like a spider monkey, his eyes the size of saucers as he stared at the red-suited man in the inn. ?Fio!? he?d hissed. ?It?s Santa!? Well. Ali had had no idea what Father Christmas? plans were for the man whose name likely graced the top of the Naughty List, but as soon as he?d seen Sinjin?s face, he?d known what he had to do.
?Come on,? he whispered to the animal, and gave the halter lead a tug. It?was it a he, or a she? He didn?t know?rolled its eyes up, dug its heels in, and refused to move past the pine trees. Thirty meters beyond, the barn and the house huddled close together, covered in a coat of snow; twenty meters past that, black winter breakers folded over the beach. ?It?s not so far, see?? He turned, pointed at the barn.
The horse was unconvinced.
?I promise! Ten minutes! You?ll be in a nice warm barn, and I?ll be in my nice warm bed. It?ll be fabulous! It?ll be fantastic!? He slid the lead over his shoulder, leaned in and started pulling.
The horse snorted.
?Don?t make me ride you,? he threatened it.
Thirty sweaty minutes later, he wrestled the monstrous beast up to the corral beside the barn and leaned against it, panting. ?Finest bloodlines, they said,? he snapped at it. ?Perfect Yule gift, they said. I think I just herniated myself.?
The horse peed on his foot.
After another twenty minutes of fumbling, drooling around the penlight clenched between his teeth, he got the barn door open. Warmth and the redolence of cut wood and fresh hay rolled over him, combating the cold sea air that was doing its damndest to freeze the sweat on his skin. He pulled the horse inside, rumbled the door shut on its track and collapsed onto a bale of hay.
Once he stopped gulping air, he realized he could hear someone muttering in the depths of the building. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Surely he hadn't just stumbled onto one of Sinjin and Salvador?s insane fantasy roleplay sessions?He swung the penlight up and around. Six stalls, three on a side. A brown goat glaring into the blue-white light. A stack of hay bales, an opened bag of grain. A wall hung with tack, which to his inexperienced eye looked like it had never been used. No Sinjin, no Salvador.
?Shine a flashlight in your eye, ya nutbag, see how much you like it,? the voice said. Dry, nasal, male, a little whiny.
Ali?s heart kicked in his chest. He passed the light over the interior again, stood?the horse promptly started eating the hay he?d been sitting on?and walked toward the back of the building. Nothing. Nobody in any of the stalls, but he had the strongest feeling that he was being watched. He stared at the wall. No windows. ?This is the part,? he told himself, the hair rising on the back of his neck, ?in the horror movie where the protagonist realizes that he?s trapped himself in the dark abandoned building with the killer.?
?I wish,? said the voice right behind him. "At least that'd be interesting."
He whirled. There was nobody but the goat and the horse by the door. ?Where are you?? He yelled. ?This isn?t funny!?
?Right here, douchenozzle,? said the goat. ?You always this stupid, or did you save it up for a special occasion??
Ali stared at the goat. The goat stared back.
?Okay,? said the goat. ?You really are this stupid. Look, I?ll use little words. I don?t need no freakin? roommate, see??
Ali stared at the goat.
?I got this place fixed up just the way I like it. You got any idea how long it takes to line up the straw so it all points in the right direction? You know how hard it is to get the grain bucket and the water bucket at ninety degrees? Horses poop! How am I supposed to keep everything clean when there?s poop everywhere, numbnuts?? the goat demanded.
?Piss off,? he told the goat, and stalked past it to the horse.
?OH MY GAH-AH-AH-AH-AD!? The goat bleated, and ran after him. ?You suck! He?s gonna screw everything up! I already take five baths a day!?
Ali grabbed the horse?s lead, dragged it away from the hay bale, and started hauling it toward the nearest stall. ?You,? he told the goat, ?get one half. The horse gets the other. Look at him, you?re the same height, he?s tiny. Half a barn is enough.?
?He?s gonna breathe on my stuff!? The goat yelled at him. ?And slobber! Horses slobber! I don?t care how little he is!?
Ali got the horse shoved into a stall and shut the door on it just in time to see a light go on in the house beyond. He whirled, dropped to a crouch, and clamped both hands over the goat?s muzzle. ?Shut it!? he hissed at the goat. ?Or I?ll make you into a stew!?
The goat?s eyes widened. It stopped yelling, but as soon as he took his hands away, it muttered, ?Buster, you are in so much trouble. You come in here screwin? up my barn like this, you can?t even imagine what I?m gonna tell them.?
?All right!? Ali whispered. ?Fine! You want a bribe? I?ll bribe you! I will give you a carrot a day for the next month if you just tell them Santa brought the horse!?
?Two carrots a day for a year,? the goat countered. Ali heard the back door of the house open and close. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
?Two carrots, six months!?
?And a sheet of paper once a week. I like ninety-pound bright white.?
?Deal!? Ali dove into a stall as the barn door rolled open. He ripped a hole in the Veil and crawled through it.
Behind him, he heard the goat calling, ?Yo! Sin! Look what that dou?uh, I mean Santa brung you!?
And Sinjin?s rough sleepy voice responded, bewildered, ?Wha???
Grinning, Ali let the hole snap shut behind him. ?Joyeux Noel, Sinjin,? he said to himself, and started the long road home.