MERRY CHRISTMAS

By:   Matt Buell aka Capt. Buell

He rose at eight that morning. His hands outstretched to God as if in prayer, his eyes shut tight to shield himself from the golden rays of the sun. Slowly and cautiously he rose from his bed and proceed down the ladder of the top bunk. He was cautious, because his curly headed brother lay in deep sleep in the bunk below. Probably dreaming about guns and soldiers, as many boys do at that age.

He walked out of the room, which was decorated in the usual fashion of airplane wall-paper, with toys scattered through out. Into the hall. The walk down the hall was always long, and dangerous. First he had to walk past his fathers room, who was always snoring furiously. Next past his mothers room who, it seemed slept with both eyes open, anticipating the escape of one of her sons from their bedroom. Now with half the danger gone a sigh of relief was breathed. The most dangerous part was still ahead. The dog, Riley, would be sleeping at the head of the stairs. Cautiously he bent down, and petted the dog, as if to make the dog calm. The dog looked up in understanding. The boy now had a partner. Slowly the two proceeded down the stairs. The staircase being about fifty years old, tended to crack under the weight of the two. Light, the pair could see the reflection of the sun off of the wall facing the landing of the stairs. The task was almost completed. Their destination was now the kitchen. After a quick breakfast of orange juice and cookies for the boy and peanut butter and crackers for the dog, the boy proceeded to the living room.

He stood in awe of the tree with it's angel and millions of twinkling balls, tinsel, and ornaments. He would always remember the sight of that tree. He looked at the vast amount of presents scattered at the base of the tree. Something was muttered under his breath, which one could be sure of was a prayer of thanks to God. After all it was his sons birthday. The boy stood, for what seemed like endless minutes watching the tree to see if it would vanish. It did not. He went over to the table, where Santa's cookies and milk had once been. The cookies were gone and the glass of milk was half finished. He said thanks to Santa. He would always believe that Santa was real. Out of the corner of his eye he spied a person watching him. The boy screamed. With a closer look, he could see that it, in fact, it was not a person but a life-size cardboard cutout of Captain Kirk. The boys boyhood idol. He heard the steps cracking and the dog started barking. The boy didn't know what to do. He had been discovered. He cowered in fright. The reflection of the image appeared on the door frame.

"Merry Christmas David".

The End

by Matt Buell