by J L Aarne
The package he passed Rainer was much smaller than Erzsé’s, but it was heavy. Rainer carefully unwrapped it and found a long, flat ebony wood case inside. He opened it and inside lying on dark blue velvet was an elaborate straight razor. The handle was also ebony, inlayed in white gold filigree of stylized flames and his initials, RMB. He took it from the case and flicked open the blade to find it also etched with a pattern of flames.
“Oh, I like this,” Rainer said, grinning. “This? Is going to be very useful.”
“I know, I have several of my own and they’re dead useful,” Elijah said. “Highly effective. I just love it when you slit their throats and they don’t even realize they’re dead for a few seconds. It takes a sharp blade, but it’s worth it.”
Rainer put it away and set the box aside on the table. Then he shifted to get something out of his pocket and passed it to Erzsé. It was a gift card in a glittery gift card sleeve. Erzsé frowned down at the trifling object, then picked it up and took the card out. Disappointment became enthusiastic glee and she brandished the card at Elijah.
“A Walmart gift card! Elijah, look. One hundred and fifty dollars it says right here. Imagine the things we can buy and all the pajama people we’ll see. Oh, we just have to take John. We can buy him beer and Cheetos and Walmart brand bib overalls and things like that and he can drawl in that delightfully trashy accent of his. Won’t that be fun?”
John was a friend of Elijah and Erzsé’s that Rainer had never met, but he was often brought up in relation to their outings to Costco and Walmart and Burger King and other places the two snobs considered to be the natural habitat of the destitute and disenfranchised. He wondered if they had at some point befriended a homeless person and adopted him as their fieldtrip guide. The idea made a very eccentric Elijah and Erzsé kind of sense.
Erzsé hugged Rainer and kissed his cheek. “I love it. You should come with us sometime. It’s such fun.”
Rainer rubbed her red lipstick off his face and smiled. “Maybe this summer when I’m free. We can go to… Safeway.”
“Hmm, we haven’t been there yet,” Erzsé said. “Is it dreadful?”
“Not really. Oh, hey, you know what you’d like? The Goodwill.”
“Oh, my god, you’re absolutely right! We haven’t been there either. That’s where we’ll go then and you’ll accompany us. You are forbidden to purchase furniture there though, Rainer.”
Rainer laughed. “Okay.”
Elijah and Erzsé left and Rainer went to finish packing his suitcase. He wasn’t at it long when there was a knock at his door. When he answered it, he found a young, pimple-faced kid in a delivery company uniform holding a basket with a bow on it so large it nearly obscured his head from sight.
“Good afternoon. Are you Rainer Bressangar? Brysinger? Brys—uh…”
“Rainer Bryssengur, yes, that’s me,” Rainer said.
“Oh. Hello, this is for you.” The young man gave him the basket. “Have a nice day and happy holidays.”
“Yes… thank you,” Rainer said, hefting the basket. “Merry Christmas.”
Rainer closed the door with his foot then took the basket into the kitchen and set it on the table. It was a fruit basket. He checked to see if there was a card. He found one, a simple white piece of cardstock hidden under the giant red, white and green bow.
It read: Way to go, slugger!
Rainer laughed, selected an apple from the basket and bit into at as he went back to packing his suitcase. Thomas would arrive shortly.
Chapter 33
Christmas in San Francisco was a disaster and Rainer and Thomas ended up leaving after only two days. They got in late and went straight to bed, both of them in Thomas’s old room. In the morning, their great Aunt Violet walked into the room and found them together in bed. They were asleep, but she was still surprised and scandalized. Then Thomas shouted at her to get the fuck out and threw the alarm clock at her. After that, things were pretty awkward and tense.
Mary Caspian emailed Rainer an invitation to another party—an ugly Christmas sweater party—and if they hadn’t been hundreds of miles away, he might have considered going just to get away. Their parent’s didn’t know the exact nature of Rainer and Thomas’s relationship, but since it had been sexual since high school and their parents were not stupid people by any means, they suspected it. They dealt with their suspicion by not thinking about it and pretending everything was normal, but Aunt Violet’s discovery and her reaction to finding them in bed together shone a light on it that made it hard to ignore.
The furtive glances and long silences got old really quick.
Rainer and Thomas went to their father’s company Christmas party, which they had gone to most years when they were home, but they did it mostly to please their parents. A lot of rich, pretentious people they barely knew getting drunk on champagne and stuffing themselves with pâté in honor of a merry Christmas was not their idea of a good time. The tension was still high after the embarrassing fiasco with Aunt Violet, too, so after the Christmas party, Rainer convinced Thomas to come up with a work related emergency so they could go home without offending their mother and father.
Thomas called Mr. Gold, who was more than happy to let him take over the Christmas Eve dinner crowd at Centzon Totochtin and stay home with his family. Thomas made up a story about a disaster with the dairy delivery and said that Mr. Gold had come down with the flu. Their parents didn’t try too hard to make them stay.
The Jaiman’s who lived in next door to their parents had left their dog, a cute bull terrier puppy, outside in the cold, so Thomas hopped the fence and took it before they left.
They didn’t get in to Thomas’s until Wednesday morning, so Rainer didn’t wake up until the afternoon. When he did, Thomas was already gone and he was alone in a house full of animals. Thomas had Internet, but without a TV, Rainer could see himself getting bored pretty quickly without him and Thomas had given Mr. Gold the day before and Christmas Eve off if he agreed to work Christmas Day, which meant plenty of time for Rainer to get bored.
The baby bull terrier made friends with Ali, the boxer Rainer had taken from Robert Weaver after he killed him, and the two dogs were playing an inexhaustible game of tug of war with one of Thomas’s socks in the living room. Ali was a lot bigger than the puppy and watching them entertained him for a little while. Rainer warmed up coffee in the microwave, searched the cupboards for something quick to eat and found a box of corn flakes then sat down to eat them while the animals played.
He wondered where Thomas was and called him on his cell phone but got no answer.
Pogo tried to go through the doorway into the hallway and ended up spending several minutes walking into the wall instead. The other animals stopped what they were doing to watch this with Rainer. If the cat stepped a few inches to the left, he would be through the doorway, but he didn’t. He continued bumping into the wall, like if he did it enough times, it would magically become a door.
Thomas returned home shortly after Rainer finished his cereal and he had a box with him. It was gift wrapped. He plopped it unceremoniously into Rainer’s lap and said, “Merry Christmas.”
Rainer looked between the package and Thomas and began unwrapping it.
Thomas noticed his pets watching Pogo and frowned. “What the fuck is that cat doing?”
“Trying to break down walls with the power of his mind,” Rainer said. He crumpled the festive wrapping paper and tossed it aside. “He’s been at it for about ten minutes.”
Thomas gave him an exasperated look. “Really, Rainer?”
He went over to Pogo, picked him up and moved him a couple of inches to the left. The cat darted forward like he had been released from a cage and ran down the hallway.
Free at last, free at last! Rainer thought, smiling.
He took the lid off the box and found a neatly folded knitted sweater with reindeer pulling a sleigh on it. The reindeer had little fuzzy poufs for noses and the one at the head of the line had a
red one. Santa’s beard was made of loops of white yarn. The snow was outlined with white sequins and glitter. It was ridiculous.
“It’s an ugly Christmas sweater,” Rainer said.
“It is indeed,” Thomas said. “You are going to that girl’s party because I have to work and I know what you do when you get bored.”
Rainer let the sweater fall into his lap and looked at him. “And what is that?”
“You act out,” Thomas said.
Rainer looked amused.
“Anyway, go to the party, have fun, do all the drugs and eat all the junk food and drink all the booze and whatever the hell else.” Thomas had a thought and added, “Do not fuck any strangers.”
“Thomas, I don’t socialize with my students,” Rainer said.
“Make an exception because I do not want to hear about more flaming corpses until after Christmas.”
Rainer didn’t see any reason to pretend he didn’t know what Thomas was talking about. They both knew that he did. “I don’t have to set them on fire. I could do something else with them.”
“That is not the point. Go to the party. You’ve got nothing else to do.”
“I have grades to finish.”
Thomas folded his arms. “Are you going to do grades tonight?”
“No,” Rainer admitted.
“All right then.”
“Fine, I’ll go to the party.”
“Good,” Thomas said. “Now I have to go get ready for work. Wash that sweater before you put it on. It’s disgusting.”
When he was gone Rainer picked up his cell phone and dialed the phone number Mary had left him in her email. It rang three times and just as it was about to go to voicemail, she answered it.
“Hello?”
“Mary? This is Rainer Bryssengur.”
“Oh, hi. Um…”
“I’ve changed my mind and I think I would like to come to your party tonight after all.”
“Really? Oh, my god. Samhain! It’s my creepy-hot teacher. He’s coming to the party!”
“There was no address included in your email,” he said. She told him the address and Rainer wrote it down. “All right then. I will see you tonight.”
“Cool. This is going to be so awesome,” Mary said.
“We’ll see,” Rainer said and disconnected the call.
Thomas emerged from the bedroom dressed for work and walked over to lean down and kiss Rainer. “Have fun,” he said. “Within reason, of course.”
“Of course,” Rainer said.
Thomas left and Rainer looked at his phone again. He dialed Cosra’s number.
“Yes, hello?” There was a clatter and Cosra cursed. “Sorry, hello? Dropped the damn phone. Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Rainer said. “So, you’re not dead yet.”
“Rainer? Just what the holy hell is that supposed to mean?” Cosra demanded. “I’m not dead yet. Well, I guess not. So sorry to disappoint you.”
“You are kind of depressed,” Rainer pointed out. “Especially around holidays.”
“Oh, well I apologize if I’m not doing sadness to your high sadness expectations, Mr. Bryssengur. Give me a minute here to fashion myself a noose for you and I’ll fix that.”
“Wow, how drunk are you?”
“Very, I’d say.” Cosra said. He thought about it. “Or not drunk enough. Take your pick. Both are essentially true.”
“You want to be my date for a party tonight?” Rainer asked.
“Pfft, no. I’m not in the mood for making merry, you may have noticed,” Cosra said. “And I plan to be passed out here in not too long. I already can’t feel my face. What sort of party?”
“Ugly sweater Christmas party. I assume it’s basically what it sounds like,” Rainer said. “Bunch of people wearing hideous Christmas sweaters at a party.”
“Well, that’s… something,” Cosra said. “I don’t have an ugly Christmas sweater anyway. But even if I did, I would have to decline. I’m not very good company this time of year, my dear.”
“All right,” Rainer said. Then he had an idea. “What are you doing for Christmas?”
“I planned to go caroling, as it happens,” Cosra said. “Oh yes, traveling door to door, spreading the Christmas spirit to one and all with ‘Silent Night’ and ‘Come All Ye Faithful’.”
Rainer smiled. He could imagine Cosra staggering along behind the serious carolers, his breath reeking of Jack Daniel’s, slurring in time with scandalized, well-intentioned parents and their offspring. “Entertaining as I’m sure that would be, what would you think of having Christmas dinner with me and Thomas this year?”
Cosra considered it. “You’re inviting me to your brother’s house?”
“Or we could bring Christmas dinner to you. Thomas would love your kitchen,” Rainer said.
“Well, perhaps I wouldn’t mind it then,” Cosra said.
“Good, then that’s what we’ll do,” Rainer decided.
They talked for a few more minutes before Rainer said goodbye and they hung up. He wondered if Cosra would remember the conversation; he was very drunk.
The address Mary had given him was a warehouse on the other side of the city. Because he had the holiday traffic to contend with the drive took him nearly an hour and a half. He got there a little after 10 o’clock.
As he approached the door, he overheard Mary pleading with someone to “Please wear the sweater, Mr. Wolf.” A window on the third floor was open and the silhouettes of people moved around in the light.
“It’s the point,” Mary said. “It’s an ugly sweater party. You have to wear an ugly sweater. Look at Tri-Daddy, he’s wearing his.”
Rainer stood with his head tilted back, listening, but he couldn’t hear what was said in response.
“Please? Just wear the stupid sweater, Mr. Wolf.”
“I said NO!” a man snapped, voice loud and clipped with annoyance.
A sweater came sailing out the window and landed on the gravel in front of Rainer. He picked it up. It was knitted with a pattern of snowflakes around the middle. As ugly sweaters went, it wasn’t even that bad.
Rainer walked to the door and hit the button beside it to be buzzed inside. No one came on the intercom to ask who he was. A second later, the door unlocked and he went inside. He rode the freight elevator to the third floor and a tall, dark, attractive and thoroughly irritated looking man nearly ran into him.
“Excuse me,” Rainer said as he stepped out of his way. He offered him the sweater. “Someone lost this.”
“Fucking thing wasn’t lost,” the man said. He snatched it out of Rainer’s hand, strode back into the room and tossed it out the open window again.
Mary saw him do it and sighed. “Mr. Wolf, you’re totally overreacting. It’s supposed to be fun.”
Mr. Wolf grunted and walked by Rainer again out of the room. Mary saw him standing there and hurried over to welcome him. “Wow, your sweater is super ugly. I love it,” she said. She gestured down the hallway after Mr. Wolf and said, “That’s Devion. Don’t mind him. He’s cranky.”
“Okay,” Rainer said.
Mary’s sweater was black with felt snowflakes and red, white and green sequins scattered over it. At the base of her throat, there was a striped bow.
“I like your sweater, too,” Rainer said.
Mary looked down at herself and beamed. “Isn’t it awful?” she asked. “Okay, so you have to meet everyone.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled and Rainer allowed himself to be dragged along and introduced to her friends. He was already acquainted with Mala, though he had never actually spoken to him. He had taken Rainer’s class with Mary the previous semester. Mala was one of those rare souls who, no matter how polite and charming Rainer was, intuitively sensed something off about him and shied away. He said hello, but then he made an excuse and hurried off.
“This is Tri-Daddy,” Mary said, introducing Rainer to a tall, pretty blond man. “He’s my daddy. You can call him Trichto though because if
you called him Tri-Daddy, that would be weird.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Rainer said. Trichto had two different colored eyes and he went a little cross-eyed trying to make eye contact.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Trichto said. He said it like there was a double meaning in his words and gave Mary a stern look. “Mary, what—”
“Isn’t his sweater great?” Mary asked Rainer, cutting him off. Trichto was wearing a sweater with a winter forest scene on it. “I love how it matches his eye.”
Rainer smiled and Trichto tried to remain serious, but his expression softened. “Yeah, it really brings out the green,” Rainer said.
Trichto sighed. “Mary, isn’t this the teacher Sol was—”
“Samhain! You have to meet him.” Mary pulled Rainer away and he gave Trichto a little wave goodbye over his shoulder as he went along with her.
She dragged him over to a young man standing by the wall eating what looked to be gumdrops while he watched a couple of people setting up to play music. He had two matching green eyes of his own and when he looked at Rainer with them, there was a spark of recognition. Rainer tried to place him and decided that he did not know him, but he somehow knew Rainer.
Curious, Rainer walked with Mary over to him and offered him his hand. “Hello.”
“This is Rainer,” Mary said. “Rainer, this is Samhain. Except only I call him that. Everyone else calls him Sol. Or Solomon, but that’s long and biblical, so Sol. Or—what do the hacker geeks call you these days, Samhain?”
“Sol’s fine,” Sol said. He dusted sugar off his fingers on his thigh and shook Rainer’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Have we met before?” Rainer asked.
Sol shook his head. “Don’t think so. You teach here, right? Never went to college here. Went to New York State, to Brown. I know Stan Nabonidus, you know him? He teaches there.”
“I know who he is, yes,” Rainer said.
Stan taught anthropology, so they did not often have occasion to interact, but he was exceptionally friendly and enthusiastic. That did not explain the look of recognition that had crossed Sol’s face though. He quickly ran through the information Sol had just given him: Solomon; aka Sol; aka Samhain—not interesting. Hacker—not interesting. Highly intelligent—not interesting. Acquaintance of Stanley Nabonidus—not interesting.
