Written By Shaun Blankenship

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Arnold woke up on his couch. He had been awake until four o'clock in the morning fixing his living room up. His grandparents weren't even going to try doing some Fourth of July stuff or anything unseasonal. When he hit sixth grade, holidays became holidays on the dates that they happened. Christmas now was more of a moment for his grandparents rather than for him. It would bring back memories of old and all those old memories-turned-lies that get brought up during these times. 'Oh, I remember ninety-seven years ago, we had a storm come through here that shook the whole town off its foundations! It was a mighty tornado, and the only way to stop it was to clog the eye of it with our huge Christmas tree!'

With the money from his job, Arnold was able to get a few things for his grandparents. A teapot, socks, sweaters; stuff like that. What else could he get them? They're almost permanently bedridden and never have enough energy to do anything by themselves. They actually needed sweaters and stuff for the winter. December is a harsh month on an old body, and the heater in the boarding house won't keep them warm all the time. The thing breaks every other week.

The sudden minute preparation was only a fluke. Christmas Eve isn't really when you're supposed to get a tree and decorate. If he had the stuff up three weeks before like everyone else, his grandparents would know before hand. They may not remember seeing it fifteen minutes later, but they would've seen it nevertheless. It's all personal to Arnold. It's for them anyway; I might as well make it special for them some how. It's better than not doing anything at all.

The time was ten o'clock. Ten o'clock on Christmas morning and Arnold was the only one awake. By now, Oskar would have already opened every package and checked it's contents. Nobody bought him anything (except for Suzie) so Oskar would search the presents, find what he wanted, and replace the contents with something cheaper. Arnold opened a PlayStation box one year and found a deck of used playing cards. The whole set of fifty-two cards weren't even in the box. ("Oh, look, here is your PlayStation, Arnold! I guess someone must have snuck it in my room since I had nothing to do with it. Heh-heh… Hey, since I found it, do you think I could keep it?")

Arnold searched around his kitchen but still no sign of life. It was as if someone had set everyone's clock back and no one knew it was even Christmas. Or maybe they all organized and went out for breakfast at the local waffle shop. The boarding house was silent. Even Grandpa wasn't snoring, which was an odd coincidence. Grandpa could snore and shatter windows three blocks away. He could snore through a nuclear war and not even be phased when he wakes up and finds his body glowing in radiation.

There was a slight noise then heard from upstairs. It sounded like it was coming from his room. Who would be up there? Arnold started to slowly walk up the stairs. The pull down walkway to Arnold's room was opened. It wasn't opened the night before.

***

Robert shook Helga awake. "Hey! Hey, Helga! It's Christmas! Wake up!"

Helga blinked in a sleepy haze. "What do you want?"

"It's Christmas, Helga. Presents, breakfast, all of that junk. Don't you want to see what we got you?"

"You actually bought me something?" Helga sat up in the bed. She wore a flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Her regular pajamas had been really dirty. "Well, um… thank you?"

"Not just me. My parents also bought you a few things, since you're a resident in this house and all. It was only right to get you something."

"Oh…" Helga rubbed her head. Aw, now I owe them! "I'm so sorry. I didn't get any of you anything."

"I know. You don't have a job yet. It's okay, Helga." He turned to the doorway and back at Helga. "We're all waiting for you."

She stepped out of the bed and stretched. "Okay. Give me a minute. I don't want to come out looking like this." She moved her hands in front of her as to display her tacky attire.

Robert nodded. "That's alright. We'll be waiting. We're all in the living room when you feel like it." With that, he left the room.

Helga called out to him, although he already had left. "Give me five minutes, Robbie. I'll be out there in a little bit."

***

He unwrapped the present. "Merry Christmas, son!" the happy father exclaimed. "It's the new Michael Crichton novel!"

Peapod Kid looked up angrily from the book's cover.

***

Sid placed his fork back down on his empty plate. "Breakfast was great, dad. Thanks for all the presents!"

His father stared at his own empty plate. "Oh, thanks son." His voice had a gloom depression inside of its usual pessimistic tone. "I just wish… your mom were here."

"Oh, come on, dad!" Sid pounded his fist on the table. "She died years ago! Get over it!"

Sid's dad placed his hands over his face. His sobbing seemed a little too melodramatic to feel sympathy for. "Sid, I'm gonna go upstairs for a minute. Don't disturb me." He pulled his chair away from the table, moving his hands away to show his tear-streaked face. "I'm glad you enjoy your presents." He pushed his vacant chair under the kitchen table.

Sid circled his finger in a ring left by a coffee mug on the table. He knew what his father was going to do. He'd sit up there crying to nothing, yell at a picture of his wife expecting a response, and fall asleep until seven o'clock at night. Then he'd cook dinner and repeat the cycle. This isn't a very frequent pattern; it's just unusually strong on holidays. Eventually later on in the week, he'll collect himself and be the same person he always was. Sometimes Sid just wished that his dad would shoot himself and do everyone a favor. It'll just become worse around New Years.

Sid's presents had been pretty good. He only had three presents but they were all he needed: a computer (His other had crashed during an electrical storm. It had been obsolete since 1987 anyway.), new shows (Is it bad when you can pull the heel five inches away from the sole?), and a CD player (MP3 compatible, to go right with the burner in the computer. Dude, you're getting a Dell!).

Sid picked up his and his father's plate and put them in the sink. He might as well hook that new computer up. What else will he do until dinner? Maybe he could find some chum to play battleship with or something. It beat sitting at the table and waiting for dinner.

***

Brainy answered the knocking at his door. When he opened it, nobody was there. A rectangular box with reflective wrapping paper lay on his doorstep. A huge, corny red ribbon was tied in an exaggerated bow on top of the box. A single tag taped to the side of it stood out. "To: Brandon 'Brainy' Pollock / From: You Know Who".

Of course he knew who. The girl who chases him everywhere he goes. The one he least expected. It was the splinter under his thumbnail that was stuck in forever. No pair of tweezers could pull that out.

Brainy opened the package and found a two items: one picture frame with the girl's photograph already inside and a red winter hat. The hat had no sort of writing or obtrusive logo on it. It was just plain, ordinary red. It wasn't much of a present, but what can you expect from a stalker?

Brainy closed the door to his home, knocking the snow from the structure above it onto the stoop. Maybe he'll thank her next time he sees her. He'll be sure to say it while he's running away tomorrow.

***

Rhonda: she received a new car, three hundred dollars cash, and many gift certificates for apparel shops in the mall. Enough said, if not too much already.

***

Lila forgot about Christmas. Her dad had been working everyday for almost three months but yet there was still not enough money for anything but rent and food. How to get out of a situation like this? Empty promises. 'Oh, sweetie, we'll have Christmas in January. I'll have enough money for presents next year.' 'Christmas?' To all who say that kids have forgotten what Christmas is about, tell that to Lila. Presents have eluded her for years no matter her dad's efforts. All she's done for the past is spent it with her father as much as she could and remind her self what the reason of Christmas was. This was just the rerun of 'A Lila Christmas'.

The self-rehabilitation has been working so far. Lila hasn't smoked pot, done ecstasy, or any of that other junk she used to. She's becoming more aware, more into the real world. She's starting to remember things. Waking up is actually enjoyable now. She actually dresses herself everyday and doesn't sleep in her clothes for weeks on end anymore. She lost weight from when she was pregnant and was back to a normal and standard size. She was giving herself something to be proud of again, something to motivate staying alive.

Until her father came home, she sat in the living room working on a latch-hook rug. It had been a Christmas present (From January. The only reason she actually received the present is because her father received it from a co-worker for free. It's amazing what people will just give away.

Two years and all she had only been halfway done. The image was supposed to be the cartoon cat Garfield popping out of a Christmas wreath with a Santa hat on. All she had was his paw popping from out the bottom of the leafy circle. The rug took longer than it looked like. One ten-by-ten square of the rug's pattern usually took an hour to complete. Multiply that ninety or so and you have an approximated time of how long it would take to finish the entire rug. After that, hang it and look at it for only one moth of the year. Sometimes she forgot why she'd pull the thing out at all, but the answers always seem to tap on her should: boredom, family, and determination. Passing the time is not an easy task when you have no major responsibilities in your life

At nine o'clock in the evening, Lila's father would stumble in the door with a surprise. He'd have a giant, stuffed teddy bear that he bought with earnings from a lunchtime poker game. Her only pleasant surprise of the whole day: what someone else would consider the norm. She'd take the bear from her dad's arms, give him a giant hug, and go upstairs with her new found happiness. The bear will remain unnamed. She'll prop it inside an old child's chair in her room to where it will keep her company every night.

***

Helga scratched her back as she entered the living room. She was fully dressed as if ready to spring on the day running, but her eyes and overall facial expression gave the illusion that she was still asleep. She yawned and greeted her landlords. "Hello, everybody."

Robert's mother smiled and nodded from the living room couch. "Good morning there, Helga! Breakfast? We saved you some."

Robert's father grinned at her from the kitchen and lifted up a plate of eggs, hash browns and bacon. Helga held a hand up. "Maybe a little bit later. I'll take some tea if you have it."

Robert's father put the plate down and on the counter. Robert sat next to his mother on the couch. "Yeah, but it'll take a while. We have coffee already brewing, though, if you want some."

Helga shuttered at the thought of his suggestion. "No thanks, I'll take tea. I can boil the water if you want."

As she started to walk towards the kitchen, Robert's father started walking out and stopped her. "No, it's okay, I can do it. You're our guest. You just relax and open your presents."

Helga looked Robert's father in the face and started to realize how much him and his son look alike. "Okay. Thank you very much."

He went back inside the kitchen. "No problem. You just go open your presents."

Robert's family seemed almost like a fairy-tale or urban legend. Nobody is this nice and generous, or is it everyone is this way? Maybe she just grew up in a dysfunctional home. Maybe there is no standard of living, but just an average lifestyle that people like to hold themselves up to live by.

Helga took a seat next to Robert, leaving no more room on the three-seat couch. If Robert's dad should come in, he could sit in the recliner in the corner of the room. She rubbed her hands together, still coping with the kindness of this family. "So… Merry Christmas… you guys."

Robert's mom put her hands on her knees. "Well, Merry Christmas to you too. We've been waiting for you to wake up to open presents all morning."

Robert turned to Helga with a mocking seriousness. "Yeah, Helga! Why'd you make us wait so long?"

The most she could do was let out a small laugh. It's too early for this, but still just the appropriate time. "You've been waiting for me all morning? It's almost the afternoon and you've all sat here waiting for me to wake up to open your presents?"

Robert's mom nodded. "It was the only courteous thing to do. If we opened our presents without you opening yours, it would make you feel awkward opening yours all by yourself. We want you to feel as comfortable as possible."

Well, thanks for the effort. Didn't really help. In fact, giving presents is making me feel awkward. "Well, thank you so much. I'm so sorry I couldn't get any of you anything."

His mom flapped her arms, dismissing Helga's statement. "Oh, don't even worry about it. As long as you live here, we consider you a member of our family."

A whistling was heard from the kitchen and was quickly silenced. Robert's father called to the living room. "I'll have your tea in a minute! Earl Grey or Chai Spice?"

"Chai Spice." Go Helga! "So… I don't want to sound greedy but… since I'm up, when do we open presents."

Robert's mom pointed a hand towards the tree. "Oh, Robbie, can you play Santa? Can you just bring all these presents over here? We can hand them out when your father's done in the kitchen."

Robert stood up off the couch and towards the tree. As he walked across the room, Robert's dad walked in with a mug of tea and a sugar bowl. "Do you want crème?"

"No, I'll be fine. Thank you."

"Ah, it's no problem." As predicted, the father sat down in the recliner chair in the corner. "Hurry up, Rob."

Robert hauled armfuls of presents over to the corner of the couch. Usually it's a free for all. Why should things be different for Helga? His mind races trivial thoughts like these, yet they all end in the same answer: She's our guest and it's only right that we give her our hospitality. Right now, routine is of the past and organization is the now. Five trips, back and forth, and Robert was finished with the pile of gifts that had been lying under the tree. He then passed one to his mom. "Here, pass this down to dad."

In a Norman Rockwell moment, they all sat there like a family accepting gifts. They graciously waited for one person to open a package before they ripped at the wrapping on theirs. These parents hadn't known more than Helga's name and yet, they spent their money on Christmas gifts for her. They hadn't even known how rotten of a kid she had been at home. They didn't know her past, but they didn't care either. They lived with what was going on in the moment, and it was good. It's an amiable trait hard to find, but cherished when it stumbles in on you.

***

Who is in my room? What if it's a thief? What if it's a mass murderer who has already taken out the rest of the boarding house and left me as a lone survivor? Arnold backed down from his own thoughts and stared at his steps. What if I'm just really paranoid? If it were a burglar, most likely they would've stricken last night. That way, if there had been little kids in the house, they could've said they were Santa or something. Little kids will believe anything. You could sell them oil in a soda bottle and they'd drink it with a smile. As for a mass murderer, Arnold would've heard something by now.

He slowly took the walkway step by step. He had nothing to be afraid of. He knew he had nothing to be afraid of. Yet, for some reason, there was a feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that something was waiting for him upstairs. His walkway had been pushed up into the ceiling last night; he knew that for sure.

What if I'm mistaken? What if I did leave it open?

He opened the door quickly, stepped back with his eyes shut tightly, and slowly opened them to reveal the mystery behind his door.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, ARNOLD!"

Everyone was up there. Grandma and Grandpa where sitting on his bed, still waving their arms about in celebration. Ernie was there too (and with a shirt on, finally!). So were Mr. Hyunh, Suzie, and Oskar. Oskar, of course, was scooping out what he wanted to stash in his pockets before he would leave the room. Arnold stood in surprise, yet still unsure what the whole point of this was. "Um, Merry Christmas to you guys too. You hid in my room to do this?"

Grandpa raised a finger. "No, we did this for another reason, short man." He started to trail off in his own thoughts. "You know, since you're a lot older, I probably shouldn't keep calling you short man… ah, what the hey. Short man, everyone here pooled their money together-"

Ernie interrupted, "Except for Oskar."

"-And they all bought you something."

Arnold will still confused to as of what was going on. "Well, why?"

Grandpa slapped his hand on his own knee. "Are you not aware of how valuable you are to this whole building? If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be buried and all these other shmucks would be living in a run-down apartment complex on the other side of town!"

Mr. Hyunh stood forward. "Yes, Arnold. You do so much around here and we hardly ever thank you."

Arnold looked at his feet. "I don't do that much."

"Not that much!" his Grandfather raged. "Look at that tree down there! That wasn't there yesterday! This happens every year, Arnold. Yours is a thankless job with no rewards, yet everyday you continue to put everybody else's happiness in front of your own. You disserve this present, Arnold. It's time."

Arnold smiled and looked back at the boarders. "Well, your welcome I guess, and thanks. What did you get me that was so important you had to sneak in my room to tell me all of this?"

Phil looked over at his wife. "Pookie, would you like to do the honors?"

Arnold's grandmother waved the boy towards here. "Come here, Arnold."

The football-headed teen moved over to his bed. He bent down to reach eye level with his Grandmother. "What is it, Grandma?"

The old lady was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a sweater. She reached inside of her pocket and produced a pair of car keys. "I want you to go outside to the back of the house and go inside of the garage. Your present's in there."

Arnold looked at the keys, which she placed in his hand. "What about the Packard?"

Grandpa answered his question, "Honestly, I don't care what you do with that old scrap pile. Sell it, keep it, give it away."

"I can't sell it. It's too… you know… it's your car. You've had it for years."

Phil looked up at his grandson. "Nothing lasts forever, Arnold."

Arnold looked back at the keys. "What kind of car is it?"

His grandfather smiled. "Well, if I told you, it would take away the surprise! Let's just say it'll make you forget all about that green clunker out there. Merry Christmas, Arnold."

Arnold threw his arms around his grandparents. "Thanks, guys." He pulled his arms back and looked at the other boarders. "Thanks."

Oskar flapped his hands in a modest gesture. "No problem, Arnold. You can always count on us."

"Oskar, put it back."

"Put what back?"

"Just put it back."

Oskar reached inside of his pocket and pulled out a portable CD player. "Oh, look! This somehow must've slipped inside of my pocket! What an unfortunate mistake! Heh-heh."

Arnold narrowed his eyes at the cheapskate as he slowly put the CD player on a shelf and backed away. "Thanks, everyone. I'm gonna go look outside and look at my car." He pointed a finger at Suzie. "Make sure Oskar doesn't try to take anymore of my stuff."

Suzie nodded at him. "You go on and enjoy your present."

***

"Wow… thank you so much." Helga stared at the pile of presents she had opened. "You really don't know… wow. Thank you so much!"

Robert's father leaned forward and smiled at her. "It's alright. It was the least we could do."

"You've done too much for me already." Helga smiled at her gifts. "Thank you so much though."

She did get some good gifts though. Robert's father bought her a jacket. His son had been told some time ago (plus it's not really hard to tell) that her favorite color was pink, so of course the coat was pink. Pink wasn't really her favorite color, but the jacket was great anyway. It wasn't a bright pink, but a darker one that she did like. Along with the jacket, their had been another part to his present. In an inside pocket, she found a movie (they were some pretty wide pockets). The Very Thought of You. Robert had explained when she found it, "I know you've probably never heard of it, but it's really good. Kind of a chick-flick, but then again, you're a chick. Plus, if it earns my respect, it's pretty good."

Robert's mother's gifts had been fair, but not the kind of thing you turn away. His mother had bought her a new CD player. That blew Helga away. For one gift, a complete stranger bought her a something that cost almost sixty dollars. That, plus the jacket and video probably already cost eighty or so. Then to add to that, his mom bought her a red hooded sweater. Just more money being tossed on a stranger.

Robert's gifts had been okay too. A scarf, a hat, gloves, and some bath lotion stuff. This usually seems to be a fallback present. Whenever you run out ideas, just buy her bath lotion! No girl is immune to its fragrant charm! Twenty bucks and you got a pretty decent present!

She looked around the room to the family circling her. "Well, I think I should go out and try all this winter stuff you bought me. You guys won't mind, will you?"

Robert's mom responded, "Go right ahead! Have a great day, Helga."

She grabbed the jacket and put her arms through the sleeves. "You wanna come with me, Robert?"

Robert clapped his hands together. "Yeah, sure, why not. Thanks for all the presents, mom."

He hugged his mother and she hugged him back. "Your welcome, Rob. You go outside with your friend."

***

Olga sipped from a mug of coffee. Mascara ran from her eyes, showing that she had been crying before she arrived at her parents' house. A little two-year-old girl pulled at the end of her dress lying off the side of the chair. "Thank you for inviting me over for Christmas. Where's my little baby sister?"

Miriam rubbed her head at a headache. "Well, her and Bob had a fight and Helga ended up having to leave."

Olga stopped drinking and swallowed what was in her mouth. "What do you mean she had a fight? Helga left home?"

Bob's hands rested on the arms of his chair. His voice was depressed and his face was stony and solid. "I threw her out. I had been sick of her attitude."

Miriam placed her hand back at her side. "Bob, have you taken back those presents yet? If she doesn't live her anymore, why do we still have them in our closet?"

"I don't know… maybe she'll come back."

Olga's eyes widened in excitement. "You really think so?"

Miriam stood up off the couch. "Now, B, you told me you were going to take that stuff back! Face it, she's not coming back. She can't come back!"

Bob pounded his fist on the side of his recliner. "It can happen, Miriam! She's a teenager! Teenagers can't keep their mind made up for three seconds. She's fickle!"

"You kicked her out, B!" Miriam yelled. "She didn't decide to leave, you threw her out! How's she going to change her mind when you made it for her?"

Big Bob rubbed his hands across his face. He had been a wreck ever since she left. Johnson had been in charge of his Beeper store for the last week. He hadn't even been in to say hi. Bob opened a gap in his fingers and saw Olga grabbing for her baby daughter and holding her in her arms. He placed his hands back on the recliner. "Look, she'll come back eventually. I know my Helga. We've had our differences but-"

Miriam stomped her foot down and growled. "B, when you can face reality, come see me. I'll be up stairs sleeping." With that, she stomped up the stairs and slammed the door to her room.

Bob looked over at his only remaining daughter. "What do you think, Olga? Do you think she'll come back?"

Olga placed her daughter back on the carpet. "I hope so, dad."

"How's my Granddaughter?"

"Oh, Vicki's just fine. I had started to get child support from Bradley but then he quit his job. No paycheck, no money."

"Yeah, I know." Bob scratched his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Hey, Olga, can you get me a pop from the fridge?"

Olga stood up. "Sure, dad. Yahoo?"

He lifted his hand in the air, gesturing he didn't care. "That's all she buys."

Olga left the living room and went to the kitchen and her two-year-old followed her home. Only one daughter was left and she would be gone at the end of the holidays. After that, it would just be him and Miriam. You never miss a good thing until it's gone. God, if only he had listened to that earlier.

It's just another Christmas thrown in the garbage disposal; ground into millions of pieces in the search for the light switch.