The Ghost of Christmas Present and Other Stories

by Angel Nichols

  “I’ll get right to it,” the object of his thoughts began. “Your classes will consist of Economics, Statistics and Accounting with a dash of field study, which I’m sure the headmistress has already told you about.”

  “Yes sir, about that…”

  “Don’t worry, lad, you’ll warm right up to it. In fact, someone’s already volunteered their farmstead for your time.”

  “They have?”

  “Indeed, and a happy coincidence at that.” The older fellow sent him a wink. “You must’ve made quite an impression on someone, for having been here such a short time.”

  Dean was utterly confused.

  “You’ve been offered a position at the Bauer farm, not but fifteen minutes from here.”

  Dean wondered why the name sounded familiar.

  “You start today, in precisely…” Mac craned his neck to look up at the large clock on the wall. “One half hour. A car will be waiting for you out front when you’re ready. I’d wear something a little warmer than that if I were you.” With that he scribbled a few notes on a piece of paper and stood up, holding it out to Dean, who took a moment to realize that his orientation was over.

  “You’re class schedules, laddie. Be on time, or you’re likely to see the darker side of our lovely Ms. Dunst.” Mac winked again and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  Dean looked incredulously over the scribbled notes.

  “Ay, you’re likely to notice that we’re a bit low-tech around here. I imagine that’ll take some getting used to for a city boy like yourself.” Mac placed a friendly pat on the boy’s shoulder, then walked to the classroom door, opened it and beckoned Dean to exit.

  “I’m sure it will,” Dean muttered as he read the terrible handwriting.

  After deciphering the schedule, he realized he had less than ten minutes to get to the farmstead. He hurried to his room, where he grabbed a tan leather jacket and bright red scarf before barreling back along the hall to the front entrance.

  Sure enough, as he walked outside in the cold, the same sputtering blue car was there, puffing white smoke into the air.

  He climbed into the passenger side, noticing that Boris looked as tired as he felt. “Good morning Boris, I need to get to the Bauer farm.”

  “Two Euro,” Boris said, “and good morning.”

  Dean almost laughed as he pulled out his father’s wallet and handed the driver another two Euro.

  The snowfall had all but stopped, leaving a thick white blanket on the ground. The sky was a light grey and clearing. Dean was happy to enjoy the sights. True to what Mac had said, they arrived at their destination in less than fifteen minutes.

  As they pulled up to the Bauer homestead, Dean was suddenly struck with the memory of the mystery name. Walking between a large red barn and a picturesque two-story farmhouse was the same young woman with long blonde hair whom he had met the previous day rather abruptly in the hall. She had on a light yellow sweater this time, but he was sure certain it was the same girl.

  “Goodbye.” Boris said, and Dean realized that he had been staring at her.

  “Thanks again Boris.” He pulled himself out of the tiny car.

  A large dog with reddish-gold fur bounded around the girls feet, but as soon as Dean waved and shouted to get her attention, it ran across the field towards him barking ferociously.

  He turned to throw himself back into the safety of the vehicle, but Boris was halfway back to the main road. Unused to dogs and certain he would be torn to shreds, Dean fell to the ground and balled himself up, covering his head with his hands.

  The dog continued until it reached the cowering mass of limbs, then mercifully stood at attention mere inches from Dean, barking hysterically.

  “Nein, Yager, platz!” The girl shouted a German command. Immediately the dog responded to the command, plopping down on the ground with a disappointed huff.

  “Sorry about that. Yager can be a little protective.” The girl helped Dean to his feet.

  “No problem.” Brushing snow and mud from his clothes, he tried to recover his dignity as he felt his face flush.

  “I’m Annalisa, by the way,” She stuck her hand out.

  “Dean.” He took it in his.

  “That’s a very American name.” She released her grip and folded her arms with a grin.

  “I guess so,” Dean felt foolish for some reason.

  “What are you doing at my house?” Annalisa looked him square in the eyes.

  “I was told you volunteered for my field assignments. I mean, the farm not you. For the assignment, I mean.” Dean tripped over his words as easily as he had been known to trip over his own feet.

  “I don’t know anything about that, but since you’re here, we might as well put you to work.” Annalisa made a mental note to give Elsie a stern talking to about this as she led Dean towards the barn. “Have you ever worked with cows before?”

  “Not unless they were medium rare and covered in onions,” Dean’s laughter faded as Anna glared at him.

  “We don’t eat our cows, but we do feed them in the barn during the winter. After we feed them…“ She handed Dean a rusted pitchfork. “We clean up what’s left.”

  Dean looked down at the pitchfork and then back at Annalisa. “You want me to do what with this?”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Watch and learn.”

  She opened the giant barn door, and Dean was nearly knocked flat by the mixed odors of hay, methane and ammonia. It was both musty and acidic at the same time, reminiscent of flat soda mixed with his grandfather’s shoes, and he coughed into his sleeve a few times.

  “You take the wheelbarrow over there and use the pitchfork to pick up the dirty hay, then when the wheelbarrow is full you take it to the large pit out back and dump it in. See? Easy.” Annalisa shoved the pitchfork into his hands and turned on her heel.

  “I’ll show you how to do it for the first stall, and then you’ll be on your own.”

  Dean surveyed the barn. There were six stalls altogether, three on each side. Each stall housed a single black and white dairy cow, all happily munching away at oats and grain. The stalls were decorated with long sweeping boughs of pine garland and holly berries, and each of the cows had a single silver bell attached to both sides of their halters.

  Anna took a purple lead rope off the wall. She unlocked the door to the first stall, and reached out to touch the cow’s hip. The cow flicked its tail in annoyance, but otherwise made no other movement.

  Annalisa slid gently up the side of the cow until she stood in front of its shoulder, just behind its head. She attached the lead to a ring on the bottom of the animal’s halter and then slowly led it from its stall to a hitching post at the other end of the barn, where she showed Dean how to tether the rope. “Two things to remember - never stand directly behind a cow unless you want to be kicked and always double check your rope knots. A cow that gets loose in winter is a dead cow.”

  Annalisa watched him muck out the first stall and then turned to leave. She whistled sharply, and Yager came bounding over in long strides.” Yager will stay and keep watch.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? He doesn’t seem to like me.” He eyed the dog warily and received a low growl in return.

  “We sometimes have wolves that try to get at the cows, so it’s best if he stays.”

  She left the two of them staring at one another. Finally, Yager began sniffing the ground around the barn entrance, and Dean moved to the second stall.

  Just as he opened the gate, he heard a strange whining sound. Dean looked at Yager, who had his ears pricked and was looking up at the barn loft. The whine came again, and this time Yager barked.

  “Alright, alright, I’ll see what it is.” Dean said, happy to have an excuse to stop flinging excrement.

  He climbed the wooden loft ladder and looked around cautiously. The loft was large and open, filled with mounds of hay and not much else. The whine came again, this time from the far end of the loft. Dean eased over to a p
articularly dark corner and looked over a mound of hay to find two large yellow eyes in a black fuzzy face staring back at him.

  “Would you look at that - barn cats actually do come from barns,” He chuckled as the furry creature mewed again. It was a kitten, not more than a few weeks old and rather thin.

  “What are you doing up here little guy?” Dean reached out to pick up the kitten, and the creature scurried away hissing and spitting. Yager began to bark nonstop, bouncing around the barn area like a large rubber ball. This in turn made the kitten scream even louder.

  Annalisa burst through the barn doors, “What is going on in here?”

  Dean waved at her from the loft, “Nothing much, just a little search and rescue. You have a pest in your barn.”

  “Possum?” She asked after silencing Yager, who continued to whine and trot circles around the ladder.

  “Cat. A kitten actually. Its mother must have abandoned it, because it looks like it’s starving.”

  “Let me see.” She climbed up the ladder with ease, joined him and peered over the hay at the tiny creature who was now cowering in the corner.

  Annalisa thought for a moment before snapping her finger. “I know!”

  She hurried down the ladder and pulled a small three-legged stool and a pail from the corner. Then she led a cow from the third stall and tethered it to the hitching post before reaching under its belly.

  Dean heard the telltale sound of liquid streams hitting the metal pail and realized she was milking the beast.

  “Good idea! I didn’t even think about the fact that these are all dairy cows.”

  “That’s what we do here. The Bauer family produces milk, cheese and ice cream for much of the town.” Anna explained proudly.

  Returning to the ladder, she tied the now heavy bucket to her belt loops and climbed to the loft with Yager’s water bowl to which he strongly objected.

  Anna having placed the bowl of milk near their side of the hay bale, they both watched in anticipation. At first, the kitten didn’t react, but soon its whiskers twitched at the scent. Cautiously, it skulked towards the bowl, where the starving furball dove in the dish headfirst and began lapping the white froth up in gulps.

  Both laughed at the spectacle. After a few moments, Anna crouched and tried to skirt around the hay bale next to the edge of the platform, but her foot slipped, sending her tumbling toward the ground two stories below.

  Dean lunged toward her as she fell, grabbing hold of her wrist, the sudden shift in weight yanking him to his stomach. The hay beneath him made for a slippery surface, and he felt himself sliding towards the edge.

  Yager now ran in circles beneath them barking as Anna shrieked in terror, the heavy bucket tied to her waist tugging her downwards. Dean reached out and grabbed her other hand, hissing in pain as the rough wooden edge of the platform bit into his armpits.

  “It’s okay! I’ve got you!” He shouted, even as he felt her slipping.

  Frantically, he dug the toes of his boots into the loft floor, hoping the thick rubber soles would catch between the slats. Their downward motion now halted for the moment, Anna still swung in mid-air, weighed down by the metal bucket at her hip. Frantically, Dean tried to figure out a solution that didn’t involve serious injury to one or both of them, but before he could think of anything, Anna shouted something in German.

  Yager took off like a shot through the barn doorway towards the house, barking furiously.

  “He will get help. Don’t let go!” Anna shouted, obviously terrified.

  Dean could feel his grasp weakening as her momentum kept her swinging back and forth. “I don’t think I can hold you that long. We need to do something now!”

  Dean looked past Anna to the ground below, hoping to see a pile of hay she could land on. To his dismay, he realized that they were directly above one of the stalls, and dropping her onto the back of a one-ton animal didn’t seem like the greatest idea.

  To make matters worse, all of the barking and screaming had set the bovines on edge, and they now swayed and twitched anxiously in their stalls. To drop her now would most likely end in her getting trampled to death.

  “Do you think you could untie the bucket if I let one of your hands go?” he asked.

  “I’d rather not try!” Her nails dug into his wrists.

  The ladder was on the far end of the loft. He seriously doubted he could shimmy all the way there with her in tow, and he certainly couldn’t pull her up from his flat position. His wrists and shoulders aching from the strain, his panicked brain struggled to come up with a solution.

  Just as he was certain his grip would give way, two men ran into the barn with Yager in the lead. Seeing the situation, the younger of the two men scrambled up the ladder and bolted to their position, reaching out just in time to grab Anna’s upper arm as she slipped from Dean’s hand.

  The older man quickly led the cow from the stall under her to the hitching post, and then stood beneath her, arms wide.

  The men said something to each other in German as Dean repositioned himself to have more traction. Then he nodded to the younger man, and together they pulled Anna up and over the edge of the loft, the milk spilling from the bucket into pools on the loose hay.

  For a moment, Anna said nothing as she crumpled into the other man’s arms, rubbing her bruised wrists. The older man climbed the ladder and approached Dean, who sat shaking from the adrenaline.

  “I’m Klaus Bauer, young man. Mind telling me what you’re doing up here with my daughter?”

  Having adjourned to the Bauer’s farmhouse, Annalisa explained to her family what had transpired. Mrs. Bauer was a kindly, middle-aged woman who wore her hair in a long, single braid. After hearing of Dean’s involvement, she immediately kissed him on the cheek.

  The younger man, who was introduced as Annalisa’s older brother, shook his hand. After a warm mug of hot chocolate and some more profuse thanks, Klaus turned to Dean. “I imagine you could use some rest. I’ll take you back to the college.”

  *

  A week later Dean arrived at the Bauer farmstead for his third round of field study. Yager came bounding toward him just as he had before, but instead of dropping to the ground, Dean greeted the dog with enthusiasm and was rewarded with a pounce and slobbering kisses.

  Annalisa arrived shortly afterwards and greeted him with a shy smile. “My family would like you to join us for Christmas dinner tomorrow night.”

  “I would love that!” Dean blurted out, surprised. “But I don’t have any gifts.”

  “Don’t worry about that. After saving my life, I…we couldn’t let you spend Christmas alone in a strange country.”

  “Thanks, I’ll look forward to it.”

  Anna smiled. “Good! Now come with me, we have work to do.”

  Dean fervently hoped that this day would be less eventful than their first.

  *

  Christmas evening came with a light snow. Anna heard the distinctive sputtering of Boris’s old VW and ran to the window in time to see Dean climb from the front seat, dressed in a deep red sweater and black slacks. He waved Boris goodbye as the blue car left in its usual puff of white smoke.

  “Don’t look too eager. He might catch on that you like him.” Her brother teased.

  “Hush!” She rushed to open the front door.

  Dean entered the home and breathed in the aromas of roasted meat and freshly baked gingerbread. A Christmas tree in the foyer was decorated and lit, a small toy train running around a circular track at its base, and Dean smiled, recalling a similar Christmas train that his father had always set up.

  Having been greeted by everyone, they led him to a table so covered with delicious food there was barely enough room for the plates. Dean enjoyed the new flavors of Black Forest ham, sauerbraten, spaetzle, garlic dumplings with emmentaler cheese and pickled red cabbage, followed by marzipan cookies, gingerbread, and a cherry tart.

  After dinner had been eaten and appreciated, the women quickly cleared the tab
le. Then everyone regrouped in the den, where an antique feather tree sat on a round table, to drink mulled wine and sing Christmas carols.

  As the evening turned late, the sound of Boris’s VW chugging up the drive could be heard, and Dean bid them farewell, stepping from the house into the cold night.

  “Wait,” Annalisa called after him. “I have a gift for you.”

  Dean turned to see her holding a red box with a bright gold bow on top. “Wow, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “I know, but I felt you should have this. Open it.” She smiled, and in the glow from the Christmas lights, Dean thought she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

  The box jiggled in his hands, and he nearly dropped it before lifting the lid. Out popped a furry black face with two big yellow eyes.

  “I forgot about this little guy!” He turned to Anna, surprised.

  “I went back the next day, and he was still up there. I’ve been keeping him in the house, and he’s trained now.” She reached over and scratched the kitten behind his ear until his eyes narrowed and Dean could hear its rumbling purr. “I spoke to Headmistress Dunst, and she agreed that you could keep him in your dorm room. She’s a cat person and has promised to provide you what you need to get started.”

  “I always wanted a pet.” Dean leaned over and surprised Annalisa with a tender kiss on the lips, then turned to squeeze himself and the kitten into the tiny blue car.

  Anna wished him, “Fröhliche Weihnachten!”

  “Merry Christmas!” He grinned, before shutting the car’s door.

  As Boris headed their vehicle along the drive, Dean relaxed in his seat, secure in the knowledge that this had been his best Christmas ever.

  Jolly Old Saint Spook

  The First Clue

  Have you ever been so completely convinced of something that you’d do anything to prove it?

  As I sat on the top bunk listening to my older brother saw logs, I stared out the window, watching the snow fall. The darkness might’ve scared lesser men, but not me. The night was my friend, as long as I had my collector’s issue, super-hero flashlight for company.