Clementine for Christmas

by Daphne Benedis-Grab

  “Thanks,” Josie said, her cheeks warming with pleasure. She’d managed to sign up the first act for the Festival! Hopefully this would show Ms. D’Amato that Josie was up to the task of running things. The volunteer coordinator had not been confident when Josie brought it up, but she’d agreed to let Josie try. Since the show was in the hospital auditorium, there was no need to book the space in advance—all they needed was a list of volunteers by December 20 and two rehearsals. Ms. D’Amato had said ten acts would make for a strong show, and now Josie only had nine to go—she could do that, she was sure of it. Yes, it was uncomfortable to ask for a favor, but as long as she was asking people she knew from the peds ward, it wouldn’t be that bad.

  “Are you going to perform?” Jade asked Josie.

  Josie shook her head so sharply the bells on her hat rang out. “No, I’ll be too busy organizing,” she said. That wasn’t the real reason, but it seemed good enough for Jade.

  “Too bad,” Jade said. “You have such a pretty voice.”

  “Thanks,” Josie said, ducking her head at the compliment. She really did love to sing but not in front of people, at least not too many of them. Performing for the patients was easy because it was just one or two to a room plus a parent or sibling. It also helped that Josie wore such extravagant costumes. In her layers of crushed velveteen or satin, her face half hidden under a bright hat, Josie felt like another person, one who was brave and didn’t get tongue-tied the second anyone looked at her, the way she did at school.

  “We’ll see you later,” Jade said as she and Ed headed out.

  “See you,” Josie said. She wished Ainyr was here. She knew Ed and Jade would be happy to have her tag along, but they had their own routines already. Kind of like Josie had had with Ainyr. Last year they’d come up with a series of Christmas comedy sketches about an elf who kept breaking the toys she made, and the kids had loved them. Going solo just wasn’t as fun, but Josie reminded herself that what mattered was cheering up the kids. She was going to meet a four-year-old boy who had come out of surgery earlier in the day, and lifting his spirits was the important thing.

  “Josie, I’m glad I caught you.” It was Ms. D’Amato, and Josie turned, excited to tell Ms. D’Amato that she’d found the very first act for the Festival. But when she saw who Ms. D’Amato was leading into the volunteer room, her excitement fizzled abruptly. “We have a new volunteer, and I was hoping you could show him around and then partner together.”

  Josie, eyes wide, looked at Oscar, the boy from English class who’d attacked another boy for no reason. He was looking right back at Josie, and she could tell he was trying not to laugh. That’s when she realized how ridiculous she looked in her costume, and her cheeks heated up. “Um, okay, but I wonder if maybe Jade or Ed—”

  “Great,” Ms. D’Amato interrupted. “You can help Oscar get suited up and then you guys can go visit Peter.” She turned to Oscar. “Oscar, Josie’s usual partner just left, so this is perfect timing. I’m sure you guys will come up with some wonderful ideas together for plays and songs for the kids.”

  Josie was not sure of this at all.

  Ms. D’Amato walked out of the room, and Oscar folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not dressing up,” he informed her.

  Josie gulped. “The kids really like it,” she said, her voice squeaky.

  Oscar shrugged. “Whatever, I’m not doing it.”

  “But, I mean, aren’t you here to try and cheer them up? Because the costumes make them laugh.”

  “Yeah, I bet,” Oscar said in a snide voice as he took in her costume a second time. “But I’m not going to make a fool of myself just to get some kid to laugh at me.”

  Josie drew herself up to her full height, which had the unfortunate effect of making the bells on her hat ring out. “They don’t laugh at me; they laugh with me,” she said haughtily. At least she hoped she sounded haughty.

  “I doubt it, if you go in there dressed like that,” Oscar said.

  Josie was not going to take this lying down. Oscar might get by at school by intimidating people, but this was her place and she wasn’t going to allow him to ruin it.

  “It’s obvious you have no idea what you’re talking about,” she informed him tartly. “And you came here to help so—”

  “I didn’t come here to help anyone,” Oscar interrupted. He spit the word help like it was some kind of contagious disease.

  “Then, what are you doing here?” Josie asked.

  Oscar sighed. “The school is forcing me to make repercussions for getting in a fight,” he said. “So I’m here as a punishment.”

  Josie wasn’t sure how working at the hospital would make repercussions, but she had bigger things to worry about now. It was getting late and Peter was waiting. “Fine, come on, then,” she said. “You can start wearing a costume tomorrow. For now you can just perform with me. I’m going to sing silly Christmas songs, like ‘Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer,’ and do a dance to go along with them.” It would be too much to do a skit today, especially since Oscar wouldn’t dress up, but at least they could sing.

  Oscar looked pale. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m doing any of that,” he said.

  Josie put her hands on her hips. “So what are you going to do?” she asked. “Because it sounds like the school will be mad if you don’t do anything.”

  Oscar sighed as though she was the one being difficult. “I’ll observe,” he said finally. “That’s what people do their first day on the job.”

  “Fine,” Josie huffed, turning and heading out of the room. The last thing she wanted was Oscar observing her, but there wasn’t any more time to argue, not when Peter was expecting them. Once they got to a room he’d probably join in, anyway—after all, if he had to be there as punishment he couldn’t just stand there while she did all the work. At least she hoped he couldn’t.

  “Hey there, Josie,” Dr. Scott called as she walked past. She was wearing Santa-printed scrubs underneath her doctor’s jacket and had a candy cane pin that lit up.

  Josie greeted the nurses as she passed their station, which was now decorated with a tiny Christmas tree, statues of angels, reindeer, and elves, and a menorah with lightbulbs that would turn on one-by-one for each day of Hanukkah.

  When they walked into room 212, a little boy with a bandage around one arm sat up in the bed and let out a squeal of delight. “Mama, look who came to see me!”

  His mom looked like she hadn’t slept in days, but she gave them a smile.

  “I’m Josie, and this is Oscar,” Josie said. “Want us to sing you some Christmas songs?”

  “Yes!” Peter shouted.

  Peter looked thrilled, but Josie couldn’t help being slightly distracted by Oscar, who was scuffing his sneakers along the floor. She started in with “Jingle Bells,” hoping someone would join in, but Peter lay back, probably still fatigued from his surgery, and his mom stroked his forehead and stayed silent. The worst part was Oscar smirking like Josie was some kind of basket case.

  “Peter, what do you want Santa to bring you this year?” Josie asked when she was done with the song.

  Peter launched into a list, and Josie nodded and made small noises of approval. And tried to ignore Oscar rolling his eyes.

  “Sing more,” Peter said after he’d carefully explained to Josie how badly he needed a pet dinosaur.

  Again, this was something that Josie normally loved. But somehow launching into “All I Want for Christmas (Is My Two Front Teeth)” with a silly lisp felt forced, especially when she added in her dance. In fact, she was so on edge under Oscar’s critical gaze that she even messed up the last verse. Peter didn’t seem to mind, but Josie minded. A lot.

  After joking around with Peter for a few more minutes, Josie stalked out, bells ringing loudly.

  “Can we go—” Oscar began, but Josie whirled around and glared at him.

  “You can’t ever do that again,” she said.

  Oscar raised his hands and stepped back. “What? I was
just watching, to get the hang of it.”

  “Really?” Josie asked, hands on hips. “So you’ll be wearing a costume and singing with me next time, instead of making me do everything?”

  The corners of Oscar’s mouth turned up. “Oh, no,” he said smoothly. “It’s much too complicated to do after watching only once. I’m going to have to observe a lot more, maybe even a whole month, before I’ll be ready to do that.”

  Josie was fuming, but she had no comeback for that. So she turned, nearly falling in her slippery Santa boots, and stalked down the hall, Oscar trailing behind.

  Josie blinked back tears as she passed the Christmas tree nestled between two rooms, its colored lights warm and bright. This was her place and Christmas was her season.

  And there was no way she was going to let Oscar ruin either one.

  “You said you’d pay it.” Oscar’s mother’s icy tone stopped Oscar in his tracks just outside the kitchen. Oscar’s mom had a low, musical voice, and she often sang as she cooked or tidied up around the house. But lately there hadn’t been any singing, just this new, bitter voice arguing with his dad.

  “I have no memory of that,” his father said sharply. “Paying the bills is your responsibility. That’s what we agreed the last time this happened.”

  His parents were starting their day with a fight. Again.

  “This bill is for your car repair!” his mother said, raising her voice. “How is that my responsibility?”

  “Stop shouting. It’s uncivilized,” his father barked. When Oscar was little, his dad had loved teaching him new words like responsible and uncivilized, showing Oscar the dictionary like it was a tool for magic. He had never mentioned that these words could be used to attack someone in a fight.

  “You’re the one shouting, and it’s going to upset Oscar,” his mother pretty much yelled.

  Oscar was not going to get dragged into this. The only thing worse than his parents fighting about him was them fighting about him when he was in the room. Although his stomach was growling because he hadn’t eaten much dinner last night, thanks to the fight his parents had about dirty breakfast dishes left in the sink, Oscar walked quietly to the front hall. Now his parents were yelling so loudly he could have stomped past while singing one of Josie’s stupid songs and no one would have noticed. Oscar slid his feet into his winter boots, which chafed a little since he wasn’t wearing socks. But he wasn’t going to take the time to go upstairs now. Instead, he just put on his coat, hat, and gloves, and grabbed the wallet out of his backpack that he’d left in the front hall since Friday afternoon. Normally, his mother would have nagged him about it, but she’d been too busy fighting with his dad. Which was typical for the Christmas season in Oscar’s house.

  The sun was newly risen, making the fresh blanket of snow on Oscar’s front yard glitter. The whipping wind, however, was bone cold, so Oscar huddled down into his coat and picked up his pace. His neighbors had already begun to decorate for Christmas. The Barrs had a big Santa sleigh, complete with reindeer and twinkling lights. Old Mrs. Watson had colored lights strung through the bushes in her yard as well as candles in every window of the house. They were the electric kind that went on automatically each night. The Jordans had a family of snow-people in their yard, all wearing Santa hats and holding big plastic candy canes. And on the corner, the Holts had elves surrounding a big Rudolph, whose nose shone bright red. Oscar couldn’t help thinking Josie would have loved it, but the whole thing made his empty stomach turn. He kept his gaze on the sidewalk in front of him as he walked the last two blocks into town.

  Most stores on Main Street hadn’t opened yet, but the lights were on in Danny’s Diner and Snickerdoodle’s. Oscar and his parents ate at Danny’s on Saturday nights, a family tradition Oscar didn’t want to think about now as they hadn’t gone in weeks, so he headed to Snickerdoodle’s. All the businesses on Main Street were ready for Christmas, with blinking lights and cheery Christmas window displays that only worsened Oscar’s mood. He averted his eyes from the elaborate gingerbread house that sat at the front of Snickerdoodle’s, as well as the tree in one corner trimmed with bakery-themed ornaments, like mini utensils and gingerbread people. His boots scuffed on the glossy wood floor as he headed up to the big display case that held newly baked breads and pastries.

  “Hey, Oscar,” Keri Joel said. She and her husband, Campbell, had opened the bakery before Oscar was born and had known him and every other kid in town since they were babies.

  “Good morning,” Oscar said, trying to sound polite. Keri and Campbell were really nice, the kind of people who snuck kids chocolate chip cookies when their parents weren’t looking. He didn’t want to take his wretched mood out on her.

  “Where are your folks?” Keri asked, glancing behind him. She was wearing a red-and-green-striped apron and her baker’s hat was red and lined with white felt like a Santa hat.

  Oscar frowned at the outfit and the question. “They’re doing stuff at home,” he said. Keri was now looking at him sympathetically, which made his skin all itchy. “Can I get a muffin?”

  “Sure, sweetie, what kind?” Keri asked.

  It was a normal question, but Oscar felt a flash of irritation. “Any kind is fine,” he said. He’d tried to keep his voice even, but Keri glanced at him before reaching into a display case and plucking a muffin off a platter.

  “How does a gingerbread muffin sound?” she asked. “A little bite of Christmas for you.”

  It was about the worst choice she could have made, but Oscar was too hungry to argue. “Great,” he said, handing her two dollars from his wallet.

  Keri waved it away. “Don’t worry, it’s on the house,” she said.

  Oscar stuffed the money into the tip jar, which made Keri smile. “You’re a generous soul,” she told him.

  No one had ever accused Oscar of being generous before, but he just said thanks and headed for the door.

  “Why don’t you eat here where it’s warm?” Keri said, the sympathetic look back on her face.

  “I have to meet a friend,” Oscar lied. He had an hour before he had to start his volunteer shift at the hospital, and nowhere to be and nothing to do, but he knew that if he sat, Keri would come chat with him, no doubt asking about stuff Oscar was in no mood to talk about. Like home or school or what he did after school. Basically everything in his life was stuff he was in no mood to talk about.

  But after eating his muffin, Oscar was cold and bored. Every place was closed, he didn’t feel like seeing any of his friends, and there was no way he was going home, so finally Oscar headed to the only place he could think of.

  IT WAS FORTY minutes before he was supposed to start his Saturday shift, so Oscar was surprised to see Josie when he walked into the volunteer room. And she looked equally surprised to see him.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, like Oscar was a moldy piece of bread she had discovered in a corner.

  “What do you think?” he snapped. He had been shocked to find someone from his class working in the hospital and then dismayed when the volunteer coordinator announced they’d be working together. At school, Josie was quiet, but here she was some kind of nut with her crazy costumes and the embarrassing songs she sang. Working in the hospital was bad enough on its own without getting paired up with someone this weird.

  “Well, you’re early, so I don’t know,” Josie snapped back.

  Weird and hostile. It was strange how she was always so quiet at school but then was so loud and difficult here. Clearly the hospital brought out the worst in everyone.

  “You must be Oscar.”

  Oscar turned and nearly jumped back when he saw two elves emerging from the costume closet. “Um, yeah,” he said.

  “I’m Jade, and this is Ed,” the elf said, reaching out a green-gloved hand.

  Oscar shook her hand hesitantly, the glove soft against his skin.

  “I think I saw you yesterday,” Ed said. “When we were singing carols in the lounge. Are you ready to join in t
oday?”

  “Yes,” Josie said loudly as Oscar shook his head and glared at her. “He’s ready to pull his own weight now that he’s seen what to do.”

  Oscar glared at her; he had no plans to pull anything.

  The two elves exchanged a glance.

  “Is everything okay, Josie?” Jade asked.

  “Fine, thanks,” Josie said with a smile that was clearly forced.

  “We’re around if you want to join us later,” Ed said. Then the two elves headed out.

  “Those are two of the high school volunteers,” Josie said as the door shut behind them. “There are only a few of us to entertain all the kids. It’s not enough, which is why you need to help out. Plus, I can’t do skits on my own.”

  “Maybe I can carry something for you guys, like a prop,” Oscar offered. That much he was willing to do.

  “That’s not a help at all!” Josie exclaimed. “We don’t even use props.”

  “What about this?” Oscar asked, picking up a big plastic candy cane.

  “I can carry that myself,” Josie retorted, rolling her eyes.

  “Well, I—” Oscar began, but then a furry missile shot out of the closet and straight into his arms. Oscar started in surprise as the tan dog reached up and licked him on the nose.

  “Sorry, she likes meeting new people,” Josie said, reaching out to take the dog. But the dog snuggled close to Oscar, and Oscar found that he wasn’t willing to let go of her just yet.

  “No problem,” he said, shifting the dog in his arms so he could pet her. The dog’s fur was feathery and soft. “What’s a dog doing in the hospital?”

  “Didn’t you notice dogs here yesterday?” Josie asked unhelpfully.

  “Obviously not,” Oscar said, more nicely than he wanted to since he didn’t want to upset the dog.

  “There’s a program where dogs can come in to cheer up patients,” Josie said.

  “Don’t they bring in germs?” Oscar asked, interested despite himself.

  “They only see approved patients,” Josie said. “And if they get on a patient’s bed, the nurse puts down a sheet. Plus, when we bring our dogs in, we clean their feet and stuff.”