by Brom
Jesse stared at his boots.
“Jesse, we been over this until I’m sick of hearing myself say it. You aren’t going nowhere so long as all you do is keep playing to a bunch of drunks in those two-bit bars. You want it, baby, you’re gonna have to make it happen. Gonna have to put yourself on the line.
“Look, Jess, some folks is gonna like what you do and some folks aren’t, that’s just the way it is. You can’t go through life worrying about the ones that aren’t.”
Jesse felt that was easy for Linda to say, she’d never cared a lick for what other folks thought. It was why she was such a good dancer, because she could just lose herself in the beat, just kick up her heels not caring who was watching or what they might be thinking. She’d never been able to understand that it might be different for him, at least while he was performing. He couldn’t get past all those eyes on him, watching his every move, couldn’t get into the zone, into that magic place where the music and him were one and the same. So yes, perhaps she was right, maybe he was afraid to put himself on the line, but maybe he’d learned that it was better to play good to a bunch of drunks instead of screwing up in front of people who gave a damn.
She let out a long sigh. “You won’t send your songs off to no one because you don’t ever feel they’re quite good enough and you won’t play in front of nobody that amounts to a hill of beans because they might look at you funny. Jesse, how can you expect me to believe in you if you won’t believe in yourself?”
Jesse just stared at her, tried to come up with a reply, something he hadn’t said a hundred times before. “All I know is that I love you, Linda. Love you as hard as I can. Now, you go ahead and look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me. Do it right now. If you can do that then I’ll leave you be.”
She met his eyes, opened her mouth, then closed it, her lips set tight. Tears began to brim in her eyes. “There’s a little girl in there that needs some sort of stability in her life. She don’t need a mom pulling double shifts at the Laundromat, don’t need a daddy dragging in at four A.M. every morning. Can you understand that? Can you not see that there’s more to consider here than just you and me?” A tear fell down her face and she wiped it angrily away. “I gave you every chance. Every . . . damn . . . chance. So don’t you come up here telling me you love me and acting like you’re all concerned about Abigail’s welfare.”
“I’ll find a job. A real job. Just tell me you’re willing to give it a shot and I promise . . . promise I’ll quit with the music . . . quit it straight away.”
She looked at him like he’d stabbed her. “Quit your music? Nobody wants you to quit. You just need to get a plan and a little faith in yourself. Grow some goddamn balls, Jesse, and go after it.”
“Okay, I’ll get a plan . . . and . . . um . . . grow some goddamn balls. Hell, I’ll do whatever it takes to—”
“Stop it, Jesse. Stop it. It’s too late. I’ve heard it all before. We both know nothing’s gonna change. Just can’t count on you, Jesse. No one can. You can’t even count on yourself. Now you need to leave. Right now, before Dillard gets back. Before you screw this up, too. Don’t make—”
“Daddy?” a timid voice called from behind Linda. “Mommy, is that Daddy?”
Linda gave Jesse a pained look then opened the door wider. A little girl with long, curly hair, wearing faded flannel PJs, stood peeking into the foyer. The girl saw Jesse and let out a squeal. “Daddy!” she cried and came rushing to him. Jesse scooped her up, spun her around then just hugged her, enjoying the crush of her little arms about his neck. She hugged him like she never wanted to let him go. He pressed his nose into her hair and inhaled deeply. She smelled of soggy Froot Loops and baby shampoo and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever smelled.
“Daddy,” she whispered in his ear. “Did you bring me something?”
He opened his eyes and found Linda staring at him. She didn’t need to say a word; he knew her “you’re gonna let her down again” look too well.
Jesse set Abigail to the floor. “Was there something you wanted? I couldn’t remember if there was or not. Last thing I recall you saying was to donate all your presents to charity.”
Abigail planted her hands on her hips and screwed up her face like she wanted to sock him. Then her eyes lit up as though just remembering something amazing. “Oh, Daddy, I gotta show you something.” She started away then slid to a stop. She held up one tiny finger. “I’ll be right back. So don’t go nowhere. Okay? Okay?”
“Promise,” he said and smiled, but her sincerity pained him. He could see that she was truly afraid he might not be here when she returned. And why not? It’s not like it hadn’t happened before?
Linda looked at his empty hands. “Don’t have nothing do you? Put it all toward booze didn’t you?”
Jesse tried to look offended. “You’ll just have to see. Won’t you?”
Abigail came running back, clutching a doll. “Look Daddy! I got one! I got a Teen Tiger doll!”
“Now where’d that come from? Did Santa bring you that?”
“No, Dillard did.”
Jesse felt as though he’d been punched. He did his best to smile while he looked the doll over. “Which one’s this?”
“It’s Teresa Tiger. Ain’t she cool?”
“Hmm, I thought you want Tina Tiger?”
“I did, but they was all out down at the drugstore.”
“Well, I guess she’s pretty a-okay. I mean, if that’s the best the old man could do. I can see how it might be that an old fart like Dillard wouldn’t want to go driving all over Creation to get the one you really wanted. Elderly men like that . . . it’s hard for them to sit for real long on account that they got hemorrhoids.” He cupped his hand and whispered loudly. “Itchy buttholes.”
Abigail giggled. Linda shot him a sour look and said, “Why don’t you ask your daddy what he got you?”
Abigail set her big eyes on him.
“Well, Abi, sugar blossom. Did you know that your daddy and Santa Claus just so happen to be real good buddies?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yup, it’s God’s honest truth. Why, we go fishing together every now and again. As a matter of fact we’re such good buddies that he lent me his magic sack. Told me if I knew any good little girls I could give them whatever toys they wanted. Do you know any good little girls?”
Abigail beamed, and pointed at herself.
“Now, I want you to close your eyes and wish for any toy you want.”
Abigail shut her eyes tight.
“No peeking,” Jesse called as he stepped back to the bush and retrieved the two garbage bags. Linda eyed the bags suspiciously as he sat them down in front of Abigail.
“Okay.”
Abigail opened her eyes, saw the two bags, and gave her parents a questioning look.
“Go on,” Jesse said. “Open them.”
Abigail laid down her doll and pulled open the top of one of the bags. Her eyes grew wide. “Daddy?” she whispered, then opened the bag wider. She just stared, like she was afraid to move or even breathe. She slowly pulled out a Teen Tiger doll, then another, then another, then let out an ear-piercing squeal. She clapped her hands, laughed, jumped up and down, and squealed some more as she emptied all the toys out onto the porch.
“Daddy!” Abigail flung herself around his neck. Jesse hugged her back and stuck his tongue out at Linda. Linda was not smiling, she didn’t look happy in the least; she looked like she wanted to jab her finger in his eye.
“Abigail, dear,” Linda said, her voice terse. “Could you do me a favor and take all these inside? We don’t want ’em to get messed up.” Linda knelt down and started putting the dolls back in the sack. “Here, just take ’em in. You can open them inside. That way you won’t lose nothing.” Abigail, practically dancing with excitement, dragged one of the sacks inside and down the hall. “I’ll be there in a sec,” Linda called. “Just need to have a word with your daddy.”
Jesse didn’t like the way she s
aid “word.”
Linda sat the other bag inside the door and pulled it shut. She glared at him.
“What’d I do now?”
“You know exactly what you did,” she snapped. “Where’d all them toys come from? Are they stolen?” She jabbed a finger at him. “Tell me Jess, what kind of a father gives his daughter stolen toys for Christmas?”
Jesse held her eye. “They’re not stolen.”
Linda didn’t look convinced.
“They’re not stolen,” Jesse repeated. “And that’s all you need to know. How come you always gotta think the worst of me?”
“Are you telling me you bought these?” This seemed to make her even angrier. “You had cash and this is what you went and spent it on? All the things your daughter needs and you buy her toys? Jesse—” She didn’t finish, she looked past him, her face stricken.
Jesse turned and saw Chief Deaton’s patrol car coming down the road.
SANTA CLAUS STOOD upon the boulder, staring across the snow-covered wilderness, searching the tall cliffs for the easiest means out. His crimson suit was torn, covered in drying blood, but the blood wasn’t his own. A mewling sound came from behind him, from among the pile of mangled beasts. One of the reindeer still lived, its legs broken, its gut busted open, a string of entrails and blood splattered atop the boulders. It began to bleat and bawl, sounding almost human in its suffering. Santa ground his teeth together.
“The house of Loki brings nothing but ruin,” Santa Claus hissed. “Krampus, I gave you every chance. Tried to show you charity, show you the path to redemption, but I was a fool to let you live, for once more you have proven there is no grace amongst serpents.”
He hopped down from the boulder, walked to the splintered remains of the sleigh. He shoved a few slats aside until he found a bound burlap bundle. He untied the cord, unwrapped the burlap, revealing a sword and a ram’s horn.
“For the death of my brother, my wife, the destruction of the house of Odin, for my imprisonment in Hel, for all the thievery and deceit, all the woe your line has wrought, the last of Loki’s blood shall be stamped from this earth.”
He put the horn to his lips and blew; a single, long, powerful note. The deep bass sound traveled through the earth and air, carried up the valley and out across the world. Santa knew his children would hear, wherever they were, even if they were halfway around the world, they would hear. “Come Huginn and Muninn, come Geri and Freki, come you great beasts of ancient glory. Come help me find this devil. It is time to finish what should have been finished five hundred years ago. It is time to bury Krampus for good.”
The dying reindeer kicked and pawed at the rocks with its hooves, trying to sit up. Santa grimaced, picked up the sword, pulled it from its scabbard. It was not a thing of beauty but a stout broadsword, a blade meant for killing. He walked over to the reindeer. It stopped struggling, looked up at him with dark, wet eyes, and let out a long bleat. Santa raised the sword and brought it down hard, chopping the deer’s head from its neck with one clean stroke.
Santa Claus wiped the blade clean of blood, replaced it into its sheath. He tied the horn to his belt, strapped the sword across his back, and started away, heading south, toward the little town where he’d been ambushed. He knew the sack had landed somewhere in that trailer park and he intended to find it. “Krampus, my dear old friend, you will pay. Your death is mine and I intend to make it a terrible one.”
THE CRUISER PULLED in beside Jesse’s truck. Dillard opened the car door and got out. The police chief was a big man, over six feet tall, and while he might’ve been pushing sixty he still looked like he could knock over a tree. He was in his civilian clothes, a pair of jeans and a tan hunting jacket, and while you could never have made Jesse admit it, he could see how a woman might find Dillard’s strong jaw and ruggedness attractive. Like a rock, Jesse thought. He looks like the kind of man you can count on.
“Jesse,” Linda whispered, her voice urgent. “Please don’t make no trouble. Just go. Please.” Jesse didn’t like it. Linda didn’t seem merely put out, she seemed nervous, anxious. He’d never seen her act like this.
Dillard locked steely gray eyes on Jesse, pushed his jacket open just far enough to reveal his service pistol. “Just the man I’ve been looking for.”
“He was just leaving,” Linda called, then, softly, to Jesse. “Now go. Please. For me.” She pushed him along. Jesse walked down the steps, across the driveway, and over to his truck. Dillard’s cold eyes followed him the whole way. “Mind holding up there a sec, Jesse? Need a word with you. Linda, do me a favor would you . . . head on in and give us men a bit of space.”
Linda hesitated.
“Go on now, be a good gal.”
“Dillard, I was just hoping that maybe—”
“Linda,” Dillard said, a strain edging into his voice. “You need to go on inside right now.”
Linda bit her lip, gave Jesse one more pleading look, then hurried inside. Jesse wondered what was going on. The Linda he knew would never let a man cow her like that. Was that the same Linda he’d torn up the honky-tonks with? The same woman he’d seen slug a man for grabbing her ass?
Dillard strolled around the cruiser, right up to Jesse, looked him up and down. “Hear there was a spot of trouble out at your place last night.”
Jesse said nothing.
“You know anything about that? Maybe hear something? See something?”
“I did. Saw everything. Santa and his reindeer landed and were attacked by six devil men. They flew up into the sky and Santa tossed one of ’em overboard.” Jesse said all this without breaking a smile. “I think the man you’re looking for has a long white beard.”
Dillard frowned, rubbed at a spot on his forehead like he was getting a headache, then just stared at Jesse for a long moment as though trying to figure out what he was. “Jesse, I knew your mother and father pretty well, and neither one of them was stupid. How come you turn out that way?”
Jesse crossed his arms and spat on Dillard’s driveway.
“You just asking me to do this the hard way?” Dillard’s tone made it clear he was done dicking around.
“The only thing I’m asking you to do is stay the hell away from my wife and daughter.”
Dillard let out a long sigh, like a man dealing with a child. “I think me and you need to have a talk. Y’know, a man-to-man sort of thing, because there ain’t no need for this to go down the path it’s headed.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placed one in his mouth and offered one to Jesse.
Jesse looked at the cigarette as though it were poison.
Dillard lit the cigarette, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled. “I understand that this ain’t easy for you, son. I wouldn’t like it if I were in your shoes. Not one bit. So I’m just gonna say it, because someone needs to. It’s over between you and Linda. Linda knows it and I think you know it, too. All you’re doing now is making things hard on everyone, especially that little girl of yours.”
Jesse bristled.
“You two need to get a divorce. Make it official. I’ll even help you out with the paperwork if need be. I’m tired of you making her feel bad. You need to man up and cut it off clean so everyone can move on with their lives.”
“That ain’t gonna happen.”
“Yes, it is gonna happen. And it’s gonna happen soon, because Linda and me is planning on getting married.”
Jesse fell back a step. “What?”
“Sorry, son. I didn’t want it to go down like this.”
“No!” Jesse shook his head. “I don’t think so. There ain’t no way I’m gonna let that happen. Ever!”
“Let me make this plainer. I’m not asking. You understand? We are gonna get married. Just as soon as we get you taken care of, that is. Now there’s a couple of ways of taking care of you, and it’s pretty much up to you to choose.”
Jesse held up a shaky finger. “Don’t back me into a corner, Dillard. You don’t wanna do that.”
Dillard laughed,
shook his head. “Jesse, if you had even a tenth of the balls you think you do, you just might be worth a good goddamn. Son, the only reason I haven’t already taken you out of the picture is because you do a little business for the General. You know full well that it won’t take much of anything to put you away. Why, I could slap the cuffs on you right now for whatever reason I fancy and you’d be on your way to prison. Is that what you want?”
“You do that and I won’t be the only one on my way to prison.”
Dillard’s eyes squeezed to mere slits. “What did you just say?”
“I think you know just what I said. You take away the only thing that matters to a man and you got a man with nothing left to lose. A man like that just might start talking.”
The side of Dillard’s face twitched. He took a step toward Jesse. “You need to dig the catshit out of your ears, boy, and listen up. There’s more than one way to make you disappear. And no one’s gonna even notice one way or another either, because there ain’t a soul around gonna miss a piece of trash like you.”
Jesse gritted his teeth, forced himself to hold his ground, to hold Dillard’s eyes. But he found himself fighting back tears. Had Linda really agreed to marry this old bastard? He glared at Dillard. “I don’t believe it. Don’t believe she’d ever agree to marry an old fuck like you.”
Dillard let out another one of his long sighs, then shook his head and chuckled. “Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. Can’t believe I’m letting myself get all worked up over a numbskull like you. I just keep forgetting how thickheaded you are.” He took another long drag off his cigarette. “Let me tell you something about yourself, make it as plain and as simple as possible—you’re a loser, Jesse. A no-account loser. That’s why you live in that tiny rat-trap, that’s why you still drive your daddy’s old rust heap, and, most of all . . . that’s why Linda is done with you.
“Now I could tell you this all fucking day, till I’m blue in the face. But it won’t mean beans, because nothing’s gonna sink into that thick skull of yours unless it’s hammered in. So I’m gonna show you. Gonna prove it to you in a way that even you can understand.” Dillard walked back to the front of his cruiser and pulled his pistol from its holster. Jesse tensed, sure the man was about to shoot him dead right there in the drive, but he just clicked off the safety and sat the gun on the hood. Dillard then proceeded to walk down the drive, leaving the gun sitting there. He leaned up against the garage door, took a deep drag off his cigarette and looked up at the trees as though he was out enjoying the day and nothing more.
