Outside, snow had begun to fall in light flakes. It had started earlier in the week and had been falling on and off ever since. There was a blanket of white on the ground now. People trampled through the snow as they walked along the sidewalks. They weren't in the usual rush they had been in two years ago, but there was no mistaking it: this was still a special time. There was something infectious in the air. Unlike the weeks before, this week people were smiling as they passed each other. They were holding doors for each other, and sometimes, they would stop and stand looking up at the sky, just taking in the season's first snowfall.

     Inside, it was cold. Downright frigid. Dale Turner rubbed his gloved hands together as he sat at the counter. He could see his breath when he let out a sigh. Time was moving so slowly. He wished the day would hurry up and be over, but a glance outside at the midday sun told him otherwise. The townspeople had become irritatingly cheerful this week. At first, he had enjoyed the extra business he was getting, but now he would much rather spend his afternoon napping, wrapped in blankets, then out here bargaining with merry customers.

     He had never liked Christmas very much. It was the worst holiday of the year- full of hype, but in the end, disappointing. Now, it seemed completely ridiculous. But even without all the specials on t.v., cheesy office parties, and huge shopping lists, some people still seemed determined to keep up the hype. All week they had been in here- some trying to barter a little extra food to spruce up their dinners on the twenty-fifth, some parents trying to bargain him down on anything that resembled a present they could leave in their children's stockings. They were all using it as an excuse when the talk turned to pricing. “But it's Christmas,” they'd say, making pleading eyes at him. He looked around at his shelves, considerably more bare than they'd been last week. Christmas was a pretty crappy excuse to empty out his store.
 
     Business had been slower today. People were no doubt putting the finishing touches on their make-do celebrations. That was fine with him. It meant he didn't need extra security in the store to keep up with the crowds. Today he only had one of his guys- a refugee named Art- helping in the back. He'd decided that today was a good day for inventory...not that there was much left to list. Art had probably finished an hour ago, and was most likely taking a nap. Dale decided it was his turn for a break. He pulled himself off the stool and walked into the back room. Art was sitting on a crate, looking at the papers in his lap.

     “Watch the front,” said Dale. He kept walking, knowing his orders would be followed.

     He found a package of instant noodles in the small break room that also served as his own kitchen. He proceeded to heat a pot of water on the ancient stovetop. Ten minutes later, the water was still lukewarm. In frustration, he kicked the stove. It made a clanging noise. He ran his hands through his hair. He realized he was hearing another noise. A noise more annoying than his stove. Carolling.

     It's alright. He thought to himself. Maybe, if I just ignore it, they'll go away. He sank into the wooden chair by the stove. It sounded like a bunch of kids singing. They were loud, some of them in different keys, and they were singing one of his least favourite songs. He waited. They kept singing. He waited some more. Finally, they sang the last line of "Santa Claus is coming to Town". There was a moment of golden silence. He sighed with relief.

     And then it started again. Even more enthusiastically, they were wishing him “A Merry Christmas”. He stormed back down the hallway.

     As he entered the main room of the store, he could see the source of his annoyance. Clustered in front of the store, blocking the door and most of the window, stood a large group of children, all singing tidings of joy. He glanced back at Art. He was watching with a bemused smile. Dale did not want to smile. He opened the door and tried to push through the crowd of children to see who was their leader. She was standing a couple of feet away, and she waved cheerfully when she saw him.

     “Merry Christmas Dale!” she shouted over her students, who all turned to look at him and echoed “Merry Christmas Mr. Turner!”

     Dale gritted his teeth. He tried to make his way over so he wouldn't have to shout in front of all the kids. “Heather, I don't have anything to give them.”

     “That's alright,” she said brightly. “We aren't here to get anything. We decided to do something fun to spread the cheer, so that's all we're here for. To wish you a Merry Christmas!” The kids all cheered and clapped to back her up.

     “Okay, thanks,” he said begrudgingly. He hoped they would just take his thanks and move on.
       
     “Do you have any requests?” she asked.

     “Don't you guys have somewhere else to sing?” he asked. “There's only two of us here. It's kind of a waste.”
         
     “It's not a waste,” she said, waving her hand. “Seriously, any song you'd like.”
      
     “Seriously, I'd rather not,” he said.

     “Come on!” said one of the little girls. Dale glared at her. Pushy kids always got on his nerves.

     Heather was giving him a look he didn't quite recognize, but he thought it was disbelief. She must have been surprised that anyone wouldn't want to be serenaded by a bunch of eight-year-olds.

     “Okay. We won't stay if it bothers you. Let's go, everyone!” she said to her class in an overly cheerful voice. 

     A bunch of her students weren't quite as easygoing about it. “It's Christmas!” said one boy, narrowing his eyes. 

     “Yeah, lighten up,” said another kid. A bunch more were giving him glares and pouts. 

     “Kids, it's alright. Let’s go over to sing for Mayor Anderson,” said Heather. She started to lead the way and her students reluctantly followed.

     Dale tried to make his way back towards his store, through the disgruntled third graders. “Come on, you're blocking the door,” he said. As the hoard of children departed, he heard someone else calling his name. 

     He could see Gail Green and Jimmy Taylor trampling over the snowy sidewalk, towards him. He imagined they weren't coming to do some last minute shopping.

     “Hi Mrs. Green. Deputy Taylor.” He nodded at them.

     “Hi Dale. Merry Christmas!” said Gail. 

     Dale kept himself from rolling his eyes. “What brings you out here Mrs. Green?”  He motioned them to follow him into the store, where it was a fraction of a degree warmer.             

     She gave him a hopeful smile before beginning. “Well, we've been going around collecting extra clothing for the drive. You know how cold it's gotten lately. There are some people who aren't as warmly dressed as others are around town. We've been going around asking anyone who lives here if they've got anything to spare, and we thought maybe you'd have some extra things in the store that you could donate.”

     “You don't have to give it to us now. You can drop it off at town hall or at the church. We've just been writing down who said they could give something. So we know how close we are to having enough,” said Jimmy.

     Dale cleared his throat. “Didn't we already having a big clothing trade-in day a couple weeks ago?” he asked.

     “Well, yes,” said Gail. “We did our best, but there are still many who find themselves without enough warm things for this snowy weather. Now, there's some people in town who came here with nothing, and we're hoping those of us who still have a little more than we need can share.”

     “What can we put you down for?” asked Jimmy.

     “Nothing,” said Dale.

     “Nothing?” Jimmy chuckled nervously. “You want to remain anonymous or something?”

     Dale was not in the mood for jokes. “I want you to leave me alone.”
 
     Jimmy seemed to be searching for his next joke, but Gail was fixing him with her thoroughly-disappointed stare. Dale held up his hands in protest. “This is a store I'm trying to run. Not a charity.”

     “We know that Dale, but since it's the holidays, couldn't you just-” began Gail.

     “The holiday excuse again,” interrupted Dale. “People expect a fair deal the rest of the year, but all of a sudden I'm supposed to start listening to every sob story that comes in here just because of the holidays.”

     Jimmy licked his lips. “Dale, it's different with the refugees. They had nothing when they came here, and even now, they get by on so little. You see how it is with your guys. Some of them wear the same threadbare clothes all of the time. It's pretty cold out at the farm. You want to have more people freezing to death this winter?”

     “I think they've got it pretty good here,” said Dale. “And if they don't like it, they don't have to stay. There are refugee camps, aren't there? And how about enlisting in the army, I hear they're eager for volunteers. They could try to make it over to the army base couldn't they?”
               
     “Some people would rather die then go back out there,” said Jimmy.
         
     Dale was annoyed. He had refugees working for him. He had given them land, a home, opportunity. He was sick of hearing about helping from other people who did less than he did. “They'd better just go ahead and do it then,” he said quietly.
          
     “What?” asked Gail increduously.
   
     “They can just die and decrease the surplus population. That would even things out, wouldn't it?” he asked defiantly.

     He hadn't ever seen Gail Green look this angry. Her nostrils flared, her eyes flashed, and he thought she was about to scream at him. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, but instead of attacking, she started coughing, bending foreword as she did.
             
     Jimmy looked forlorn himself. He put a hand on Gail's arm. “Thanks Dale,” he said, shaking his head. He reminded Dale of a little kid staring at fallen ice cream on the sidewalk. “Let's go,” he whispered to Gail. She stared at Dale a moment longer, but then she seemed to have decided not to shout at him, because she just said “Fine. Let's go,” turning as coldly as she could.

     “Merry Christmas Dale,” said Jimmy as sarcastically as he could manage, and they went back outside.

     Dale leaned against the checkout counter. He could hear his heart beat pounding in his head. He glanced over and remembered Art suddenly. Art was nervously watching Dale.

     “You know I didn't mean you, right?” Dale said a little too forcefully.

     Art was silent and the awkwardness between them was intense.

     “I'm just so sick of these holiday idiots,” grumbled Dale. As he said it, he heard the sound of the door opening again. He spun around.

     “Hi Dale! Merry Christmas!” shouted Bonnie as she barrelled into the store. Her arms were full but she tried to pull him into an awkward hug anyway.

     He waited until she had stood back before asking “What's all this?”

     She held up a scrawny wreath. “You don't have any decorations.” She put the wreath down on the counter and held up a large jar. “And this is eggnog,” she said proudly.
       
     Dale tried not to grimace. He'd never liked eggnog.
       
     “I know, it's kind of weird. But we have lots of milk and eggs, and Mimi added her own 'special  ingredient'. It's good though, I swear.”
     
     “Thanks,” he said without enthusiasm.

     “We're making a huge batch for the party tomorrow night. That's also why I'm here. We still didn't know if you're coming.”
 
     “Oh, right, the party,” he said.

     “It's going to be fun. Lots of people are coming.”

     “Sorry, I don't think I'm going to make it,” he said. 

     “If you need a way to get there, I'm sure you could get a ride with someone with a truck. There's a rumour Jake Green's got some plan involving horses.” She wrinkled her nose and laughed. “Or, my cousins could drive you.”

     “It's not that. I've got to stay here,” he said.
             
     “You're going to stay at the store? On Christmas?” She raised her eyebrows.

     “I can't leave it unprotected. All my people wanted the day off.” He noticed Art deliberately looking away.

     “But you shouldn't be alone,” she said. 

     “It's fine. Okay?” he asked.

     She didn't look satisfied, but she quickly tried to brighten the mood again. Standing, she grabbed the wreath from the counter. “Now let's hang this up,” she said.
           
     “Uh- Bonnie,” he started, but she had her back to him. She was looking around the front of the store for a place to hang the wreath.
           
     “Bonnie,” he said again, realizing as he said it how useless it was. Instead, he followed her as she paced across the room.
          
     “Do you have anything we can use to stick it to the door?” she asked, turning around.
        
     He tapped her shoulder, so she'd stop and look at him. “Bonnie, I don't want to hang up any decorations.”
        
     “What?” she asked, still a trace of a smile on her face.
       
     “I don't want decorations. I'm not doing Christmas this year.”

     Her smile was gone and she raised her eyebrows in dismay. “What's wrong Dale?”
          
     He exhaled quickly. “Nothing's wrong with me, I just don't feel like celebrating.”
           
     She was giving him that look again, the one designed to make him feel guilty. He did, a little, but he felt more indignant. “Look, thank you for the thought, but I don't want anything to do with Christmas. All you people who do want to run around singing and saying “Happy Holidays” can do it as much as you want, but stop coming to me. I'm not feeling festive, and I don't understand why the rest of you are.”

     “Dale, I know things are really different, but it's still Christmas,” she said.

     Her eyes were pitying, and it made him more irritated. “Not that again. 'It's Christmas.' We're starving, again, freezing, again, still stuck in this hellhole, and everyone keeps saying 'It's Christmas.' We've got the army, taking what we have and taking anyone away who makes a disturbance, we've got New Bern, still threatening to come over here and take what's left, and half of the people who used to live here are dead or gone. And people still say 'It's Christmas' when they want to take whatever hasn't already been taken from my store. Personally, I think everyone who still wants to celebrate is an idiot. Or blind.”

     He stopped short of saying anything else, but they both understood what would have followed. He hadn't meant to lash out so venomously, but it had been building in him for days. He expected her to get angry back. The old Bonnie he knew would have. Or she would have been hurt. She just looked weary.      

     “Okay, Dale. If that's how you want it.” She turned and walked quickly towards the door. She stopped with her hand on the handle. “If you change your mind, you're still invited,” she said. With that, she made her exit. The eggnog still sat on the counter.

     Wordlessly, he stormed back to the break room. The boiling water had long since overflowed and the stove was a mess. He swore as he used an old rag to clean up.

     


     The day wore on, but finally, the sun started setting and the winter skies were dark. Dale sent Art home, making him promise to show up even earlier the day after next. He could hear the winds whistling outside, and thought of another long, cold night.

     He took a flashlight and some salt and went outside. Inside the store had been cold, but outside, the wind was biting. He walked around the side of the building, checking to make sure everything was secure. The vandalism and break-ins just seemed to increase as the weather got colder. Strangely enough, the Colonel and his soldiers didn't seem too concerned about those things. He went all the way around the store, and it looked alright. At the front door, he stopped to spread some salt on the ground. He wanted people to be able to come into the store after this holiday crap was all over. When he finished, he paused for a moment, leaning on the metal door handle.

     Suddenly, he jumped back. He had been drowsy, but he was fully alert now. He looked at the door again. Through it's glass he could see the main room in the store. It was empty. The shadows must have been playing tricks on his mind. For a second, he had thought he had seen a face reflected on the glass. A face other than his own.
     
     Shaking it off, he went back inside and locked the door. He finished tidying up in the front and locked the door to that room too. He went into the break room and set about making himself some dinner.
       
     Bonnie's eggnog was one of the only things in the small fridge. He looked half-heartedly for something else to eat, but in the end settled on making himself a bowl of mushy oatmeal. He sat in silence, eating slowly but barely tasting his food. When he finished, he made his way down the hall to the office he now used as a living quarters. He pulled on sweatpants and an old sweater, leaving his gloves on his hands. He sat on his cot and tried to read a book, but the screaming wind outside was so loud he could barely concentrate. He gave up, climbing into his sleeping bag and staring at the ceiling.

     He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he must have because he awoke suddenly much later. He glanced quickly around the room. He was sure he had heard something, but it was quiet all around. Come on Dale, he told himself. He lay back in his bed and stared at the ceiling again. He felt his eyelids drooping, but just as he started to fall back asleep, he heard it. This time, he knew he was really hearing something. It sounded like something scraping across the floor. It was coming from the hallway, and it sounded like it was coming closer. He scrambled out of bed quickly and went over to the desk. Just as he heard the doorknob turning, he pulled his gun out of the drawer. As he turned to face the intruder, he froze.

     The whole doorway was filled with an otherworldly light, and standing in the midst of it was a woman, whose face glowed with a deathly pallor.

     He knew her. He was sure of it, but he couldn't stop himself from crying out. “Who are you? What do you want?”

     She chuckled. Her voice had an eerie musical sound. “Honey, don't you recognize me?”

     “Mrs.- Mrs. Leigh?” he stammered.

     She sighed. “Fine. In life I was known as Gracie Leigh, your business associate. Boss, actually,” she said with a smirk.

     He was shaking now and as he looked down, he realized he was still holding the gun in her direction. “How do I know it's you? I'm probably just hallucinating.”

     “You're not,” she said.

     “I could be,” he said, his speech speeding up. “That oatmeal I ate could've had some kind of parasites in it. For all I know, the seeds could have been irradiated. Maybe I have radiation poisoning and I'm dying.”

     She laughed softly again. “Oh, honey, you're not dying. You're getting a wakeup call.”

     “About what?” he asked nervously.

     She gestured behind her. For the first time, he noticed what had been making the scraping sound. Attached to her by chains and ropes, Gracie had been dragging behind her a strange assortment of objects. He saw jewellery, clocks, fancy items carved out of wood, old books, even some barrels of pesticide.

     “What's all that stuff?” he asked.

     “The chains I forged in life I am now forced to carry with me in death.”

     “Are those things from the store?” he asked.

     “These are the results of unfair deals I made when I was still alive. I know we had a hard time those last couple of months, but I made some choices that haunt me now. I don't want you to make the same mistake. That's the lesson, honey,” she said gently.

     He was confused, but he asked, “So that's it? That's all I'm supposed to be learning about in this dream?”

     She smiled. “Oh no, I'm just the opening act. Tonight you're going to be visited by three spirits. Make sure you listen to them. They won't all be as friendly as me.”

     Dale was panicking. This strange dream about Mrs. Leigh wasn't really scary, but the thought of three ghosts was getting to him. “I don't need any more lessons. I'm fine,” he said, trying to appear as brave as possible.

     She looked at him a little wistfully. “I don't think you are. That's why I want you to remember what I've said.” She stood staring a moment longer, and then turned towards the door.
         
     “Wait!” he shouted. She turned. “Do you have to go already? I didn't get to-”
         
     “Listen to what they say,” she said.
         
     He felt his eyes growing hot. “I'm sorry,” he said. He wanted to go on, but she held up a hand.
       
     “Good luck, honey.”
         
     She was gone. The room was as cold and dark as it had been before and Dale zipped his sleeping bag up further. He was shivering, but he wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the dream he'd just had.
         
     He shifted around on the narrow bed. As the minutes, and then hours passed, he found he couldn't fall back asleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Gracie's glowing face. 

     He listened to the howling wind, and gradually, his breathing calmed. He noticed a stillness in the air. It was unnatural. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing. He was suddenly aware of a presence in the room. Sitting up and clutching the sleeping bag to himself, he forced himself to open his eyes.
        
     He was almost blinded. If he thought his last vision had been bright, this one was positively dazzling. The pale light filled the entire room, and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust. It was only then that he could see the figure standing in the centre of the room. Her clothes were white and almost dazzling too, and seemed to float on her body. Her red hair fell in wispy curls around her shoulders. She had a gentle smile but he was terrified no less. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he had seen her before. She was so different, though, that he could barely dare to speak to her out loud.
       
     “You're the- the spirit I was told about?” he choked out.
       
     She smiled that eerie, calm smile of hers and said “I am.”
       
     She held out a ghostly white hand, but he didn't feel any more inclined to get out from under his sleeping bag.
     
     “I am the ghost of Christmas past. Come with me, Dale. There is a lot to see.”
       
     He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he remembered Gracie's warning. Anything for you, ma'am, he thought as he climbed out of bed.

    Dale clambered out of bed and took a shaky step towards the spirit. She held out her arms, giving him an encouraging nod. Shivering, he reached towards her.

    The instant he touched her hand, the room around them disappeared and he found himself standing inside a small living room. He knew it instantly. It was the living room of the trailer in which he had lived for most of his life. It was as messy as he remembered, and it was decorated for the holidays, with a small artificial tree, some paper chains, and a stocking Dale remembered attaching to a chair.

     A woman walked into the room. Dale gasped immediately. He hadn't seen her in over a year, but she looked as he remembered her: beautiful, but tired, her curly hair pulled up loosely, her red fingernails chipped just a little. He instantly felt his eyes burning. “Mom,” he breathed.

     He took a step towards her. She didn't notice, but kept getting her coffee ready. The spirit spoke for the first time since they had arrived. “She can't hear you. These are only the shadows of things that have already happened. We cannot change them.”

     He didn't say anything for a moment, but watched his mother as she stirred her coffee. She stared at the carpet as she drank, a faraway look in her eyes. He wished he could ask her what she was thinking, like he used to do sometimes when they were both awake at the same time in the morning. He stayed rooted to the spot, staring.

     After a short while, the sliding door to the smaller bedroom opened and Dale was shocked to see a smaller, pyjama-clad version of himself running into the room. Little Dale ran up to his mother and put his arms around her waist. “Merry Christmas Mommy!” he shouted up at her.

     She smiled and brushed her hand through his hair. “Merry Christmas, angel.”

     “I waited up for a long time, but I think I fell asleep,” he said.

     She gave him a guilty smile. “Sorry, sweetie, it was really hard getting home in the snow. I didn't mean to worry you.”

      “I remember that night,” said Dale, glancing over at the spirit. She nodded encouragingly. “I was so afraid when she didn't come home. I sat up forever watching the snow out the window. I was convinced I'd be all alone when I woke up.”

     He turned back to watch the younger version of himself. His mother was still holding his face in her hands. “Should we go see what Santa brought?” she asked.

    The little boy nodded and they went over to the chair with the stocking. He watched his younger self dump out some oranges, some chocolates, a pair of orange mittens and a green knit hat. He noticed, as he hadn't noticed the first time, his mother's nervousness as she handed him the wrapped present. He did remember tearing off the paper and holding up the box. Little Dale's face fell slightly as he studied the box of Lego.

    His mother was trying very hard to stay cheerful. “I know you were probably hoping for something more like one of those transformers, but I guess maybe Santa wanted you to have something else this year.”

    Little Dale had a very serious expression. “I don't like transformers. It's alright.”

    “Are you sure?” asked his mother in a small voice.

    “It's alright Mom,” he continued. He looked up at her with his most grown-up-serious expression. “I know about Santa. You don't have to worry.”

    “You know, baby?” she asked in a quiet voice.

    “You did your best,” he said matter-of-factly. With that, little Dale opened the box and dumped the Lego blocks onto the floor. Dale had never really like building toys, but he remembered how much he'd pretended he did in this moment.

     Now, he watched his younger self trying to play with his toy, and he watched his mother's eyes well over. She was trying hard to hide it, but eventually, little Dale noticed she was crying.

     “What's wrong, Mom?” he asked.

     “You should have had a transformer. I should have gotten you something better. I wanted to, but they didn't have a lot of things that were good for a boy your age.”

     She was full out crying now. “You're my baby- and – and- you should have the things you really want, instead of this crap,” she said between sobs.

     Little Dale looked uncomfortable, but he patted his mother's arm. “It's okay,” he kept repeating. “It's okay.”

     Dale himself was fighting a lump that was forcing its way into his throat. Part of him wanted to stay and keep looking at his mother, but part of him wanted to get away from this scene forever.

     “Do you remember this as a happy Christmas?” asked the spirit. He suddenly remembered she was there.
       
    “I guess,” he stammered. “I don't know. I felt...it was heavy. I hated how I had to look after her. I hate how I couldn't. She tried, but she needed help.” He turned to stare at his mother again. It was as if he could keep her image etched in his mind forever if he just kept staring.

     The spirit nodded, giving him that same sympathetic smile. “It's time to move on. There's more to see,” she said, taking his arm.

     Once again, the trailer disappeared from around them, and another room materialized. This room was much bigger, and much more crowded. It was a classroom, filled with high-school-sized desks, many of which were covered in torn wrapping paper, small dollar store presents, and cupcake wrappers. There were high school students too. They were obviously not in the middle of a lesson, for some were actually perched on their friends' desks, or sitting in chairs circled around the desks. They were all talking and laughing.

     A tall blond woman wearing a tinsel garland wrapped around her neck like a scarf and a pair of reindeer antlers was walking amidst the desks, handing out chocolates. As she stopped at each cluster of students, she would join in their conversation, laughing along or making her own comment.

    “Miss Sullivan!” said Dale. It seemed like it had been many years ago, but he realized it had only been the year before last that she had been his history teacher. He remembered, then, where he would be sitting. He glanced to the side of the room.

    Over at the window, he could see the curly head of hair he knew to be his own, buried in his folded arms on top of a desk. Asleep, if he remembered correctly. He shook his head. As much as he tried to fight it, he always used to fall asleep in her class.

    The spirit was walking over to his younger self, and he followed her. He noticed several of his classmates as they passed them. There was a particularly large crowd gathered around Skylar Stevens- he quickly glanced away. As he turned around, he realized he was about to collide with Miss Sullivan- but instead of smacking into her, he seemed to fall right through her. Shuddering at the strange feeling, he looked at the spirit. She just shrugged.

     Miss Sullivan, however, continued without interruption, and he saw now that she was headed straight towards his past self. When she got there, she held the box of chocolates as close to his face as she could get. His past self lifted his head quickly and blinked blearily.

    “I knew the smell of chocolate would wake you up,” she said with a maniacal laugh. She held out the box.

    “I'm fine, thanks,” his former self mumbled.

    “Aw, come on Dale. They're home-made,” she said.

    “Okay,” younger Dale said with a grudging smile.

     Emily Sullivan seemed pleased with her success, and pulled up a chair from the vacant desk in front of his. “So, Dale, tired out by all the holiday stuff? Been shopping ‘til you dropped?” she asked.
       
    “Sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep,” he muttered, his cheeks turning pink.

    “Oh, don't worry about it. I know I'll be glad to catch up on my sleep when the holidays start. Not that I don't enjoy getting up to teach all of you lovely people every day,” she said.

    Younger Dale nodded.

    Older Dale chuckled. “She always said stuff like that, but you could tell she really liked being there. I think hers was the only class no one skipped on the last day before vacation.” He saw that the spirit was giving him a knowing smile, so he added, “Probably because she let us watch movies.”

    If this annoyed the spirit, she didn’t make it known. She turned her head back towards the desk at the window, and grudgingly, Dale did the same.

    “So what are you looking forward to doing during the holidays?” Emily asked.
       
    “I don't know, sleeping,” Dale said.
         
    She laughed. “Well, I guess I can't blame you for wanting to get a head start. But do you have any plans? Are you going to celebrate?”

     Younger Dale fidgeted in his seat. “Christmas isn't really a big deal in my house.”

     She nodded. “Fair enough.”

     “What are you doing, Miss Sullivan?” he asked.

     She smiled. “Well, Christmas wasn't a really big deal in my house either, but I think it's going to be pretty great this year. Roger and I are going to New York for New Years.”

     Dale smiled to himself. “She talked about Roger so much that year. I think he proposed to her that Christmas.”

     He looked back at his younger self. He was smiling dreamily now. Dale almost grimaced as he remembered what was about to come.

     “I hope you have a really great Christmas then, Miss Sullivan,” his younger self gushed.

    He was embarrassed now, watching as his younger self turned a shade of pink. He felt equally uncomfortable about watching this moment with the spirit, and he stared straight ahead to avoid catching her eye.

     Emily just smiled back, though, saying, “Thanks Dale. And I hope you have a great holiday, even if it isn't a big deal. You-” she started to say, trailing off as she glanced at the front of the classroom.

     “Sean Henthorn!” she shouted. “I said you could play hangman on the blackboard, but I didn't mean you could write those words!”
       
     “Excuse me,” she said to Dale, before dashing up to the blackboard.

     Younger Dale watched for a moment as Emily wrestled the chalk from Sean, and went back to watching out the window.

     Dale watched himself, and turned, finding himself face to face with the spirit once more. She wore the same gentle smile as always, but it was unnerving to have her watching him so closely. He thought she'd ask a question, but she kept watching silently. He shifted uncomfortably. He knew she was waiting for him to say something. He cleared his throat, and said gruffly, “Well, what now?”

     She raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure you are finished with this memory?”

     He glanced back over at his younger self, staring at the grey skies outside. “Yes.” he said firmly.

     He felt once again the strange feeling of standing still as the world around him shifted. They were in another living room now.

     He pulled his arm out of the spirit's cool grasp and stepped forward. This room was much larger and richly decorated than the trailer had been, but it was colder too. It looked as though it was afternoon, because the sky visible through the window was pale grey, but inside, it was dark. Dale realized that he himself wasn't feeling cold, but was only thinking of the room as cold because he remembered it so well.

     “No. Not here.” he said, hearing the shudder in his voice. “I don't- not this one.”

     She stared calmly back at him. He looked around wildly, searching for a way out. He did not want to witness the scene he knew was coming.
       
     He implored her again. “Please, spirit. I can't. Not now. Please.”
       
     She shook her head, sympathetically but firmly. He turned from her angrily and paced back and forth along the wall. Any moment...

     A door slammed somewhere and the sound of footsteps coming nearer could be heard. He buried his face in his hands. He didn't want to see.
       
     “Dale!”  He could hear her voice. “Bring it in here!” she shouted. He heard her coming and knew she was in the room.

     He was aware of a cool, but nonetheless comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked back at the spirit. She looked at him deliberately and moved her eyes towards the other person in the room. He sighed and made himself look over too.

     Skylar was pushing a chair out of its spot in front of the window. She was breathless and her cheeks were rosy. When the top of a tree appeared in the doorway, she ran forwards and grabbed some of the branches. She pulled, and the whole tree came into the room. The Dale from this memory also came into view now, pushing the tree through the doorway. He still wore his knit hat and gloves.

    “Over here!” she said excitedly.

     They dragged the tree across the room and pulled it into an upright position. Dale bent down and started fiddling around with a tree stand they'd set out on the floor.

     She stood back and brushed her gloved hands together, letting out a big sigh. She giggled then. “I was sure someone was going to catch us out there!” she said with a laugh.

     His younger self didn't look up as he answered with a snort, “So, what if they did? We didn't take this from anyone, any more than they took gas or medicine, or crops. Besides, we can use it for firewood later.”

     “Are you sure you can figure that thing out?” she asked. “My dad was always trying to get me to help him with it. I guess I should have tried.”

     “Don't worry.” he said, though he was obviously struggling. “I can figure this out.”

     Dale watched his earlier self wrestle with the tree stand for a few minutes, eventually standing up and brushing needles off his pants.

     He and Skylar stood back to admire their work.
 
     “I know you didn't want to put decorations on it...” Dale started.
 
     “No, it's beautiful!” said Skylar. She stepped forward a little and put a hand on her hip, appraising it. “I think it's perfect without. It just seems...new. Unspoiled. You know what I mean?”

      Dale had been looking at her, not the tree, but he glanced back at it now, nodding. “I think so,” he said.

     She laughed again, patting his arm. “You were so funny out there, with the saw. Have you ever tried to cut down a tree before?”

     He shrugged her arm off, pretending to look put out. “What about you? 'Hurry up! Jimmy Taylor might come by and arrest us for wasting resources!'” he mimicked.

     “I did not say that!” she said laughing and playfully swatting him with her scarf.

    “You were thinking it,” he said, leaning towards her and leaning back quickly.

    “Well... thank you,” she said suddenly seriously. She leaned over and hugged him. He slowly put his arms on her back. They stood for a moment. He shivered.

    “Are you okay?” she asked.

    “I guess we should start a fire,” he said.

    “Oh, right,” she said, becoming businesslike. “I'll get the wood.”

    She was out of the room in a second, and past-Dale watched her go for another second before he turned to the fireplace and bent down. Neither of them had had much experience building fires, but they had learned pretty quickly that winter. He poked at the charred wood leftover from their last fire and started arranging kindling from the bucket beside the fireplace.

    When Skylar came back into the room, her arms full of firewood they had collected on their tree-cutting excursion, a small fire was flickering.

    “I swear it's even colder out there now than it was when we got home,” she said, her teeth chattering. She knelt beside him and placed her bundle beside the other wood that they had piled that morning. She pulled off her gloves and held her hands right in front of the fire. She breathed in the warm air.

   “I just love that smell,” she said. “I can't believe we never used this fireplace, back when my parents were...here.” She sighed. “I wonder what they're doing right now.”
         
    Dale, though he had heard this conversation before, felt a pang in his chest. It was a conversation they had tried to avoid most of the time, but sometimes it had come up. His past self was determinedly cheerful.
         
   “I don't know. Maybe they're skating on that rink in front of Rockefeller centre.”
         
    She scoffed. “Yeah, maybe they decided to build an ice rink this year, end of the world and all.”
         
    He smiled. “Okay, now seriously. I think they're sitting by a roaring fire- probably not as nice as this one, of course, but warm. And they're eating some canned cranberries- like the ones we've got in the kitchen. They're talking about how glad they are that you're here, safe, with a nice fireplace and lots of blankets.”
 
    They had pushed the couch up close to the fire, so they could lean against it and feel the warmth of the fire on their skin. They sat there now, with blankets wrapped around their shoulders. Skylar's eyes were getting a gleam in the firelight.

    “I've never spent a holiday without them,” she said quietly. “There was one year where Dad had to go to Denver for a meeting two days before Christmas. Mom and I went with him, and we went to see 'The Nutcracker' ballet at the opera house. I was, I don't know, nine or ten years old, and I was all dressed up, and I felt so important, walking in between my parents. It was nice.”

    “Sounds nice,” said Dale, though he'd never desired to go to a fancy ballet.

    “How about you Dale?” she asked. She was snuggling deeper into the blankets, and closer to him. Their arms were touching.

    “What about me?” he asked.
 
    “I told you about one of my Christmas memories. Your turn.”
 
    He hadn't liked talking about Christmas with Miss Sullivan, or most other people who tried to get him into the festive spirit, but it was easy to tell her anything when she looked at him with those wide eyes. He thought about it for a moment, and staring into the fire, he spoke.

     “We made a gingerbread house,” he said.

     She watched him with a small smile, waiting for him to continue.

     “My mom was working at that discount store in New Bern- Fred's. They had these gingerbread house kits on sale one day, and she got one and brought it home. She was so excited- she'd never made one before. We took it out of the box, and there were these sheets of gingerbread that were supposed to fit together, but the instructions were missing. So Mom just got a knife and tried to cut it into pieces. They were pretty...jagged edged, I guess. We couldn't really fit them together properly, but we did anyway. With all this icing that came in a tube. I got it on my hands and face, and so did she. In the end, she kept laughing, saying it looked one of the 'Who's' houses from 'The Grinch'. We covered it in candies, just stuck on randomly. It looked ridiculous, but we were so proud.”

    Skylar laughed softly. “Did you eat it?” she asked.

    He smiled wryly. “We ate some of the smarties off it, but we just couldn't demolish our creation. We left it up for, I don't know, months I think. Then one day, I noticed there were ants crawling in it. I was really upset, and I showed my mom. She laughed then. She said 'I guess it's not our house anymore.' She put it outside.”

    Skylar giggled again, but stayed silent. They sat there, leaning together, staring at the flames.

    “It's weird. It isn’t the first Christmas Eve I've spent without her, but she always used to make it home as soon as she could,” he said. He swallowed hard. He didn't like to talk about her. “I still feel like she could be out. Just at work, just stuck in a snowstorm. Tomorrow, she could be here when I wake up, ready to open presents. Is that stupid or what?”

    She turned to him with brimming eyes. “It's not stupid.”

     From his place across the room, Dale wanted to turn away. “I don't want to watch this.” He struggled to keep the waver out of his voice. The spirit merely put her hand on his arm again, and guided him to look at the scene in front of him once more.

     Past-Dale was struggling to keep his face still. He looked back into the fireplace. She cautiously put an arm around his shoulders. He didn't pull away, so she leaned against him. “I'm glad you're here,” she said.

    “I'm glad too,” he said.

    She smiled serenely. “If you weren't here, I don't know-”

    They both jumped as the tree tumbled to the ground with a crash.

    After recovering from their initial shock, they burst into laughter. They sat on the floor, roaring with laughter and twisting in their blankets. As he watched, Dale could do nothing but scowl.
         
     After they were finally able to stand, they went over to the tree and tried to right it, laughing the whole time. “I think maybe we'll have to tie it to the window, somehow,” said Skylar between bursts of laughter.

     “Not a bad idea. Do you have any heavy duty string?” asked Dale.

     “Come on,” said Skylar, and she led him out of the room. Their laughter still echoed down the hallway.

      Dale looked angrily at the spirit. “Are you done now, spirit?” he growled.

      “What do you think about this memory?” she asked.

      “Why did you have to bring me here?” he asked, trying to keep the anguish out of his voice.

      “It’s important for you to see. You were a good friend. You knew about love and kindness.” She was calm, but he was seething.

      “It really helped didn’t it?” he shouted. “And you’re really helping. Now that I know what a good friend I am, I can go back and change the way things…the things…” he choked over his words and then gritted his teeth.

       She shook her head slowly. “These are only the shadows of things that have already happened. They are what they are.”

      “No! And I don't want to see any more of your 'shadows'. I want to go home now!” he said.

     She stiffened. “Alright, we will return. I know you have more to see tonight.”

      “I do not have more to see. I'm going to wake up and drink some coffee and stay awake for the rest of the-” he started to say, but the spirit grabbed his arm and the room dissolved again. He tried to pull away from her grasp, and suddenly, he realized he was only yanking his arm out from under his sleeping bag. The room was dark and empty and he was lying in bed.

      At first, he thought he should get up and make some coffee, but as his breathing slowed to a normal rate, he thought to himself about how crazy he sounded. It was just a dream. He could go back to sleep now and hopefully, he wouldn't have any more bizarre and annoyingly festive dreams.

      He rolled over and put the pillow over his head, to block out the empty silence. Sleep didn't come quickly. He tossed and turned, and ended up staring at his ceiling again.

     He tried thinking of something really boring to take his mind off things. He pictured the last town hall meeting in his head. There was Gray Anderson, reading off a list of rules they'd have to follow now that the army was extending their reach into town. He could see other people's bored faces in the crowd. Stanley Richmond, scrunching his face, trying to listen, Bonnie looking down at her feet, not even bothering to watch anymore, Jimmy Taylor, blankly staring, beside him was- no, he wouldn't think about her.

     He shoved the thought out of his mind. He decided to count instead. He ran the seven times table through his head. He'd done that when he was younger, waiting for his mom to come home, or walking the long walk home after school. Seven times six is forty-two. Seven times seven is forty-nine. Seven times eight is fifty-six...
       
    It was too easy now, and about as interesting as watching corn grow. He rolled over in his bed again. It creaked. He felt a jolt. He had heard another creaking sound, coming from somewhere else. He lay perfectly still. He heard it again.
     
    It was just a dream, he told himself, even as he got out of bed and walked down the hall. He could see light coming from the crack under the door of the break room. Taking a deep breath, he continued walking towards it.

It was just a dream, he told himself, even as he got out of bed and walked down the hall. The door to the break room was closed, and a bright light shone from underneath it. Unlike the ethereal light that accompanied the spirit of Christmas past, this light was warm and yellow-coloured. He tentatively reached for the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

He heard a booming laugh from inside. “Come in!” called a voice.

He had pulled his hand back quickly, but now he cautiously opened the door.

Sitting at the table, with what looked like the entire contents of the break room fridge in front of him, was a man with a long, graying beard, a big red coat, and a familiar twinkle in his eye. He smiled at Dale, standing in the doorway. “Come in and know me better, man!” He chuckled as Dale did as he was told. He took a big sip of eggnog.

“Uh, Mr. Mayor-” started Dale.

“Dale, I am not the mayor,” the figure said, with a hint of annoyance. His expression relaxed then, and he grinned. “I am the here and the now, that is to say, Christmas Present.”

Dale couldn't keep from staring. He looked so much the same as he remembered, yet so different now, with his fairy-tale-like attire and over-the-top cheer. “You - you look so...”

“Familiar?” supplied the spirit. “Well, I've had over two thousand brothers who came before me.”

“Uh, okay,” said Dale, his eyebrows raised but his mind resigned. He would play along with this even more bizarre dream.

The spirit offered a glass, but Dale refused the eggnog as politely as he could.

“Well, I guess we'd better head out while the day's still young,” said the spirit, standing and pushing his chair back. He clapped a hand on Dale's back, but instead of the room shifting around them, Dale found himself being pushed forward. They were walking, but moving right through the walls, out of the store and onto Main Street.

The entire street was coated with a layer of powdery snow. The sky was bright blue, though some puffy clouds floated overhead. There were a few people walking through the snow, leaving fresh footprints.

Dale looked up the street. “It's just Main Street. It's the same.”

“It's Christmas day!” the spirit positively shouted. “Can't you feel the difference in the air?”

Dale had his arms folded, though he didn't feel the cold. “No, not really.”

“Well, we'll have to show you then, won't we?” said the spirit. He took Dale's arm, and Dale felt his stomach leap as he realized he was being lifted off the ground. They were gliding through the air now, down the street and over people's heads. He saw the people below calling greetings to each other. Friends meeting up on the street were shaking hands or hugging. Outside one house, a mother, and father, a little boy, and a girl he recognized as Allison Hawkins were throwing snow at each other. They passed a group of young boys pulling sleds and giggling. The church bells were ringing, and as they flew overhead, he could see that the Christmas service was letting out. He saw lots of people he knew. He averted his gaze guiltily when he saw Gail Green talking with one of the refugees who worked for him.

“I think we can land here,” said the spirit.

“Uh, I don't think -” Dale started, but stopped as he was suddenly pulled towards the ground by the spirit.

He felt as though his feet were touching solid ground, though they didn't leave any footprints in the snow. He also noticed that, just as before, he couldn't feel the cold, though he was still in his sweat pants and sweatshirt.

Now they were standing in the crowd of people milling about, exchanging greetings and hugs. Dale felt extremely uncomfortable. He could hear Gail coughing from a few feet away, and some of the old church ladies asking if she was alright. Jake was standing stiffly beside her, uncharacteristically sporting a suit and tie. He was also grudgingly accepting hugs from the older women who had teased him most of his life. Dale spun around. He could hear snatches of conversation from all directions.

“The children were just wonderful. Those little shepherd costumes were so cute. Didn't Jody look just like -”

“If you want some decorations for your living room, we've got lots extra -”

“Owww! With all that salt they've got here you'd think they could do something about this ice.”

He turned to find the source of that outburst, and saw Mimi Clark sprawled on the ground. Stanley was helping her to her feet, chuckling, and Bonnie was standing there too, trying to suppress a giggle.

“Well, don't worry about me,” said Mimi sarcastically.

“Sorry,” said Stanley, putting on a serious face. “Are you okay, honey?” By the last word, he had dissolved into laughter again.

Mimi flung a handful of powdery snow at his head. “I am now,” she said, brushing off her mittened hands.

Stanley shook his hair, sending the snow in all directions. “Are you trying to give me hypothermia again?”

She had taken his arm now, and was chuckling herself. “Not at all, honey.” She brushed the remaining snow out of his hair.

Bonnie made a show of rolling her eyes, but then grinned at the looks on their faces.

Dale remembered vaguely, when he and Bonnie used to hang out, and Bonnie had spent long afternoons complaining about the I.R.S. woman. It was strange now, seeing the entirely different way Bonnie talked and joked with her soon-to-be sister-in-law. He didn't know how they had become friends. He hadn't talked to Bonnie in so long, and it was no wonder, really, that he hadn't seen any of this coming.

The three of them were interrupted by Jake, pushing through the crowd and pulling Stanley into a hug. He hugged Mimi and Bonnie too, and everyone said “Merry Christmas.”

“So are you guys ready for tonight?” asked Jake.

“Yes,” said Stanley, a little quickly.

“Almost,” said Bonnie, signing something that Dale thought probably meant “Not really” because Jake chuckled.

“We're planning on heading home soon so we can finish,” said Stanley, shooting a look at Bonnie.

“So what's this I hear about you having some special transportation arrangements?” asked Mimi.

Jake smirked. “It's a surprise. I've been sworn to secrecy.”

Mimi looked like she wasn't ready to give up, but he raised his hands in protest. “You'll know soon enough,” he said. “Don't you have some stuff to get ready?”

“Oh, I did my part. We’re just hurrying home so these guys can finish their jobs,” she said.

“You're not going to help us with the decorations?” asked Bonnie.

Dale laughed as the conversation continued, with Stanley and Bonnie imploring Mimi to help and her insisting that eggnog was really the central part of a Christmas party, so no one should expect the chef to divide her focus. He saw Gail approaching then, exchanging the same warm greetings with the Richmonds. He felt like he had a knot of worms crawling in his stomach. For some reason, standing close by Gail Green while the otherwise jolly spirit stared at him made him feel very guilty. He started to back up, and quickly walked toward the church and around the corner.

He walked right into Emily Sullivan. Or rather, right through, just as he had earlier. Why was it always her? She was as oblivious as she had been the other time. She was standing, nervously shifting from one foot to the other, as if waiting for something.

The side door to the church opened, and he could see Margaret Taylor stepping outside, followed by Jimmy Taylor, carrying his daughter on his back. She was dressed as an angel. Jimmy held the door with his foot. Heather Lisinski, her arms full of costumes, thanked him as she came out the door. Dale looked back at Emily, who now pasted a smile on her face. As Heather and the Taylors said their good-byes and the Taylors walked over towards the street, Emily walked towards Heather.

Dale looked to the spirit. The spirit hadn't said anything about his departure from the Richmond-Green conversation, and didn't say anything now. Dale was curious, and he followed Emily. The spirit followed him.

When she saw Emily, Heather grinned. “Merry Christmas,” she said, a little shyly.

“Merry Christmas,” said Emily. Heather gave her an awkward one-armed hug, which she returned. Emily smiled again, with determination.

“I just wanted to say that I really liked the pageant you did with the kids. It was a good idea and I'm glad someone did something special with them.”

Heather shrugged and laughed nervously. “Thanks. I'm just glad they got to do something fun. You know, since they don't really get to have Santa Claus, or big school concerts, or candy canes.”

“Yeah,” said Emily. A moment of awkward silence passed.

“Well, thanks for...stopping to talk. I didn't know if you were even coming today, or what,” said Heather.

Emily shrugged now. “Christmas, right? What else was I going to do? Besides, I'm glad I got to hear 'what Christmas is all about.'”

Heather laughed now, a little more at ease. “I guess you're a fan of Charlie Brown too?”

“Saw it a few times,” Emily said. “The one we used to watch all the time at my house was The Santa Clause. It was my brother's favourite. I guess you could see why - who wouldn't want their dad to be Santa?”

There was another moment of silence. Both women smiled, but Emily pretended to be studying the icicles hanging from the church roof, and Heather started rearranging the costumes, which were slipping from her grasp.

“Do you want some help with those?” asked Emily.

“Oh - sure,” said Heather. “Thanks.”

Emily took some of them. “Where to?”

“Oh, actually, I have to drop them off at school. It's okay if you can't -”

“Hey, it's fine,” said Emily. “You'll only be interrupting my very busy Christmas day of reading and cooking dried something or other.”

“Aw, that’s…” said Heather, searching for something to say. Dale noticed she was turning a shade pinker than she'd been before. She guiltily looked down at the ground.

They were walking towards him, and Dale quickly jumped out of the way. He didn't want to have Emily Sullivan walk through him for a third time.

“Actually, I was thinking of going out for a drink later. Do you want to come, hang out?” asked Emily.

“Uhh...” Heather stammered, going even redder. “I've kind of already got plans. I was going to go to the Richmond’s.”

“Oh,” said Emily, the smile vanishing from her face.

“You could still come, right?” asked Heather with a pained expression. “I'm sure it'll be fun.”

“No, I think I'm going to sit that one out,” said Emily, staring straight ahead. Heather evidently didn't know what to say, and the two of them trudged along in silence.

Dale breathed a sigh and watched them leave. That conversation had gone from interesting to excruciating quickly. He felt a new pang of guilt now - not really guilt, he realized, because he knew it wasn't his fault Emily didn't want to go to the Richmonds' party. More like a heart-wrenching feeling he usually avoided.

“What the hell?” he asked out loud, and the spirit raised his eyebrows. “I thought you were showing me how good Christmas can be?”

“I'm merely showing you the way Christmas is, at present,” the spirit returned. “And incidentally, you decided to take a detour. I was showing you a different conversation.”

Dale looked back over to the street. The crowd had thinned now- the Greens were nowhere in sight.

“Well, then,” said the spirit, regaining his cheery composure. “Shall we get on to our first scheduled stop?”

“Whatever you say, sir,” said Dale, knowing full well he never had a choice in the matter.

The spirit grabbed his arm and he felt once more, the exhilarating feeling of being pulled up off the ground. They flew into the air, up above the buildings once more. They flew over the town, a winding and twisting path Dale knew was meant to show him as many people being merry as possible. There were people playing in the snow, adults and children alike, and as they swooped down near windows, he could smell different foods cooking. He would have made a comment to the spirit about how stupid it was to use all the best stuff in your cupboard at the beginning of winter, but something about this spirit made him hold his tongue.

“Ah, here it is,” said the spirit, and with just that warning, Dale felt himself plummeting towards the ground.

He knew the house in front of which he now stood. It was the Green's house. He sighed. Of course the spirit would take him here.

“Look,” said the spirit. He was standing at the window, looking inside.

Dale walked slowly up the porch steps and pressed his face up to the window.

Someone had decorated the inside of the house with old ornaments and trinkets. An artificial tree stood in the centre of the living room. He could just make out through the doorway to the dining room, a table set with silver.

“Let's go inside and get a better look,” said the spirit. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Dale and pulled him right through the wall. They walked into the dining room, where the table was not only adorned with fancy silver, but covered in candles and a Christmas tablecloth. There was a lot of noise coming from the room beside this room, and Dale guessed it was the kitchen. There were good smells coming from the doorway.

“Hey, how come I can't feel the cold, or anything else, but I can smell food cooking?” asked Dale.

“Shh - listen,” said the spirit testily. The voices were getting louder.

The door opened and the owners of the voices came into the dining room, carrying bowls of vegetables: Eric Green, wearing about three sweaters, Mary Bailey, laughing at something he was saying, and Jake.

“Well, it serves you right, Jake. I can't believe you hid your little brother's presents,” said Mary.

“Hey, he got them back. Dad made me tell him where they were,” Jake replied.

“After you made me think that Santa forgot all about me,” said Eric with a sardonic smile.

“I didn't think you would cry,” said Jake. “I honestly just got bored waiting for you to wake up. Thought I'd play a prank. I thought you'd figure it out.”

“Well, I did think it was weird: Santa forgetting all about me and bringing my jerk big brother a new bike,” said Eric.

“So did you get him back?” asked Mary.

Eric sighed. “He wasn't allowed to ride the bike for a while, but it was too cold to ride it anyway. So no, I guess not.”

“Well, there's always now,” said Mary. “Maybe you'd better watch your back Jake.”

Jake smirked. “Yeah, with all the soldiers coming in here and the road gangs and stuff, I'd better look out for Eric.”

“I thought we weren't going to talk about them today,” said Gail as she came through the door, carrying a plate of steaming chicken. She coughed into her shoulder, trying to avoid the food. “How about we sit down before I drop this?”

“I've got it Mom,” said Eric, but she shooed him away and set it down on the table herself.

“Come on, I'm starving,” said Jake, who had already seated himself. Gail gave him a glare as she sat at the end of the table beside him. Eric sat down on her other side, and Mary took a seat beside him. The other end of the table was conspicuously empty.

“Ah, it smells so good,” said Eric, reaching for some carrots.

“Let's say grace,” said Gail. “Jake?”

Jake reluctantly put down his fork. The others looked down at their plates as Gail quietly talked about plentiful food, family and friends. Dale glanced over. The spirit was watching attentively. A shared remembrance was passing through the quiet.

Mary was the first to break the silence. She reached for a bottle of wine on the table and held it up. “In honour of the occasion,” she proclaimed. “Just don't ask how I got it.”

The others were glad to fill their glasses with something other than moonshine vodka, and began passing around the food as well.

Eric paused with his wine glass a few inches away from his mouth. “We're missing the toast,” he said.

He and Jake looked over at Gail. She was looking at the other end of the table. Jake raised his glass. “To Dad,” he said, and held his glass in the air as he struggled for words. “We miss him.”

Eric nodded. There were so many things that could be said, but nothing more was needed.

Gail had raised her glass, and said in a shaky voice, “To April. She's missed too.” She glanced quickly at Eric. “And to new family members, and new beginnings.” She gave Mary a small smile. Mary slowly returned it.

“Okay, how about...to Stanley, for giving us this chicken!” said Jake. “To the Richmonds and their farm, for keeping us alive another year!”

“Well, then, to everyone who worked out there in the field!” said Gail. They all chuckled. Everyone took turns out at the farms.

“To Heather, for turning on the lights and the heat!” said Eric, throwing a glance over at Jake. Something passed so quickly between the brothers, Dale wasn't sure he had seen it. Jake quickly turned back to the others and smiled, his glass still in the air. “To Mary, for making sure we have something to toast with!”

Mary laughed. “To Gail, this food smells delicious!”

Gail smiled in spite of herself. “To Dale Turner. Founder of the feast.”

“Dale?” asked Jake, frowning suddenly.

In fact, the others had gone silent and serious as well. Though he knew they couldn't see him, Dale suddenly felt very conspicuous.

“Well, I was talking about the chicken. I used that roasting oven that I got from Dale to cook it. You know the stove's still not working. Just the stove top,” said Gail.

“That hardly makes him the founder of the feast,” said Eric.

“Well, actually, I think the carrots and potatoes came from his land,” she added.

Jake looked annoyed. Dale thought he knew what was coming. “Yeah, and we practically had to pry it out of his hands, just to get it divided up among everyone in town. You know, everyone else gets it by now. That land may belong to certain people, but we all fought to defend it. The food is for everyone. Then you get Dale, who seems to think he's still living in the old world. If he gets sick, Kenchy will look after him. If he gets cold, he complains that we need more windmills. He doesn't even realize that Jimmy and Bill and the rest of the rangers are on the clock all the time and they don't get a paycheck. All of them, deputies, guards, teachers, you Eric. Mary, when's the last time someone actually paid for a drink? But he expects it to be business as usual at the store.”

Dale sighed. It had been a huge struggle this year, and he had had so many arguments with Jake that he tended to avoid him whenever he could.

It was obviously a common topic in the house, because Eric looked exasperated, Mary was obviously not paying attention, and Gail quickly tried to steer the conversation away from him. “Well, he didn't keep the food, did he? We're very lucky, I think. We've got a great meal in front of us, and we've got each other, which is more than I can say for Dale, so don't you think you can just cut him some slack tonight?”

Jake was obviously displeased, but raised his glass sullenly. “Fine. To Dale,” he said without enthusiasm.

“To Dale,” the others echoed. They clinked their glasses together and sipped the wine.

“Now we can finally eat,” said Gail with a chuckle that turned into a cough. Her sons looked at her with concern, but didn't say anything. They began eating, and the food smelled so good, Dale couldn't help feeling just a little envious, especially remembering his own mushy supper. He watched them talking and laughing as they ate, and tried to tell himself he was only envious of the food.

In fact, watching them, especially seeing how Jake and Eric laughed and joked with their mother, reminded him a lot of someone he usually tried to keep out of his mind. They really were lucky. Dale stood watching and listening for the entire meal, half enjoying being in close proximity to a real family gathering. He was definitely intruding on something, but he felt joyously anonymous, now that they weren't complaining about him. A few times, he glanced over at the spirit, and was surprised to see that the spirit was watching with the same intensity he had. Instead of his usual jolly demeanour, the spirit was quiet and solemn. He seemed almost hungry himself as he watched the four seated around the table. Dale looked away quickly. He wasn't quite so invisible to the spirit, and he felt like he was definitely witnessing something private.

Slowly, the family finished the Christmas dinner, and they started to clear the table. Jake, Eric, and Mary insisted that they would do all the cleaning up, and Jake quickly ushered Gail into the living room, where he waited until she was seated on the couch with a blanket draped around her shoulders before he went into the kitchen to do the dishes.

Gail glanced around furtively, and when she saw the coast was clear, she got up from her seat. With the blanket still wrapped around her, she went to the bookshelf and retrieved a photo album. She sat back down on the couch and opened it on her lap. Slowly, she turned the pages, pausing to study each picture. Now and then, she'd trace her finger along one of the pictures, with a faraway look in her eyes. Sometimes, she'd chuckle. Dale started feeling the same heart-tearing feeling he'd had around Emily Sullivan earlier. He wished he could run far away from this living room, but at the same time, he felt like going over and sitting down beside Gail Green. He settled for hugging his arms across his chest.

Dale lost track of how long he stood there, watching Gail reminisce. Even though there was a lot of loud talking and laughter coming from the kitchen, it seemed as though the woman and the two shadows, Dale and the spirit, were in a different place altogether. The illusion was shattered by a knock on the door. Gail glanced over at the kitchen, and got to her feet, still wearing the blanket. She crossed over to the door and opened it, instantly shivering at the blast of cold air that hit her.

Heather Lisinski stood in the doorway, her arms stiffly folded.

“Oh, Hi, Mrs. Green! Merry Christmas!” she said with just a hint of surprise.

“Merry Christmas honey. Come on in,” said Gail, quickly recovering from her own surprise.

Heather paused still in the doorway. “Well, I just came over because I'm supposed to meet Jake,” she said, adding quickly, “He said he'd give me a ride to the Richmonds', roads being covered in snow as they are.”

“Oh,” said Gail with her eyebrows slightly raised. “Well, that means you should still come in. Come on, let's stop letting the cold air in.” She grabbed the younger woman by the arm and pulled her inside.

Heather followed her timidly into the living room. “You can have a seat if you like,” said Gail, motioning to the couch.

“Oh, thanks, but I guess we should probably -”

“Oh, of course. Jake!” called Gail, a smile twitching on her lips.

Jake came out of the kitchen, a tea towel draped over his arm. “Mom? I thought you were going to rest. Oh, hi,” he said to Heather, giving her a smile.

“I'm not hobbling around on a crutch yet Jake,” said Gail with a sarcastic chuckle. “I think I've got a few years in me still.”

“Okay, but Kenchy said -”

“I think you have a guest,” said Gail in a stage whisper.

Jake looked quickly over to Heather, who gave him an amused grin. “Yeah, we're just going to - uh, well, the others aren't ready yet. They're doing dishes,” he said.

“Do they need help?” asked Heather. Jake shook his head. “They don't need me. I've got a guest. Do you want to come in and warm up before we go out again? I can offer you... tea, I think.”

“Thanks, but I'm okay. Maybe we can get the blankets together,” she offered.

Jake nodded. “Well, which way?” she asked. “Oh, here,” he said, leading her out of the living room and down the hall.

Dale glanced over at Gail. She was watching them leave with an expression that was difficult to read. On the one hand, she seemed pleased, maybe even...hopeful. Then again, her eyes had the same faraway sadness they had had earlier. Dale looked up at the spirit. He'd gone to stand right behind Gail, and was looking at her as if she were the only living being in the world. Dale felt the awkwardness he'd experienced earlier intensified. He decided to slip away quietly, and went down the hall in the direction he'd seen Jake and Heather go.

They were standing beside a closet. Jake was pulling wool blankets off the top shelf, giving some to Heather and making a pile for himself. They were already discussing something.

“Well, she looks better than I've seen her look in a while,” Heather was saying.

“I know - it's the holidays. She always puts on the best show of 'Christmas spirit' she can. I think she's really having a hard time, though,” said Jake, looking into the closet as he talked.

“Well, who can blame her? It's kind of a hard time for everyone now,” said Heather. “I mean, you know, because everything's so different than we're used to,” she finished, trailing off slightly.

“Yeah,” said Jake, with a pained smile. “First year's the hardest, right?” He glanced at her.

She leaned against the wall. “I guess.” She thought about it for a second. “Yeah, I guess you're right. This year definitely beats last year for me. Of course, it is difficult to beat sitting around a trailer and trying to make instant potatoes on a camping stove.” She laughed a little at this; he remained silent.

“She'll be okay, Jake,” she said earnestly, though he looked straight ahead. “Really,” she said. Dale thought she was going to reach out and touch him, but instead she clung to the blankets in her arms.

Finally he turned and returned her gaze. “Thanks,” he said. “Least we don't need to worry about ice at this time of year.”

“Yeah,” she said, glancing to see if it was okay to laugh. He wore a sheepish grin, and she smiled too.

“I didn't think he remembered the ice,” said a voice behind Dale, who jumped. The spirit had found him. He turned to the spirit and tried to keep the quaver out of his voice. “Spirit...is Mrs. Green sick?”

The spirit nodded, a grim look on his face. He didn't give Dale any of the reassurance he was seeking.

“But - she's going to get better, isn't she?” he asked quietly.

The spirit cleared his throat and looked away from Dale. He was starting to feel panic building in him, and then something else: anger.

“Well, what am I supposed to do about that?” he asked. “I've got stuff at my store, but I don't have medicines. I don't have doctors. If they can't even help, then what am I supposed to do?”

The spirit answered patiently. “Sometimes, it isn't about the 'stuff' you have. There is more to you, more you can give, than just stuff.”

Dale was feeling his anger building, and might have said something more if he hadn't been interrupted by Mary shouting that it was time to go. Jake and Heather quickly carried their blankets back down the hall. Dale and the spirit followed them. Eric and Mary were in the living room, putting on coats, scarves, hats and mittens.

“Jake, aren't you getting ready?” asked Gail.

“Mom, are you sure you're going to be okay?” he countered, going over to her.

“I'm fine. I'm just not up to making a trip out there in the cold,” she said.

“But I don't want you to be alone,” he said, sitting on the couch beside her. “I'll stay.”

“No, Jake-” she said.

“No, I'm going to stay,” he said.

“Jake,” she said gently, motioning across the room where Eric, Mary, and Heather stood. “Don't you have some special travel arrangements?”

Jake looked torn. “But you-”

“Go,” she said with mock annoyance. “Don't make me say it again.”

“Fine,” he said, shaking his head. “Make sure you rest. We'll be back again soon.” He leaned over and hugged her tightly. They both stood, and Gail walked over to the doorway to see them off. She kissed Eric goodbye, hugged Mary, and then hugged Heather too. “Merry Christmas, again,” she said.

“Thanks. Have a good night, Mrs. Green,” she returned.

The four partygoers filed out into the cold, and Gail watched them out the window before retiring to her couch and photo album. Dale half expected the spirit to linger watching her, but now he was grabbing Dale by the arm again and marching out through the wall. “We've more to see tonight,” he said with a gruff voice.

The four people were walking down the silent, snow-covered street. Dale at first thought they were following them, but the spirit of Christmas present pulled him down another street. They walked up to a house he didn't recognize. As they had before, they made their way up the porch steps, but when they neared the door, Dale had a shock. There was a familiar face in the window.

He stopped, and tried to step backwards. “Do we have to go here?” he asked. “Can't we go spy on Jake and Heather some more?”

The spirit chuckled. “Maybe later, but now we have to pay a visit closer to your own heart.”

Dale grimaced. The spirit's firm grip on his shoulder meant he didn't have a choice in this one. He looked up at the window again. Skylar was staring out at the winter night. She looked dreamy, in a sad sort of way. Dale could feel the crushing feeling in his heart again, but it was different from when he was looking at Miss Sullivan or the Green family. As much as he wished he were anywhere else, he couldn't look away from her wistful face.

Another figure appeared in the window, a woman Dale remembered as Mrs. Carmichael. She said something to Skylar, who watched out the window for a moment longer, and turned to follow her. Dale found himself walking right up to the window, pressing his face against the glass. Skylar was taking a seat on the couch, beside two younger kids. Mrs. Carmichael sat in a rocking chair, and Mr. Carmichael was already seated on an armchair near the fireplace. He had a book open, and began reading a story, making exaggerated expressions as he read. Skylar smiled and laughed along with the rest of the family, but she didn't seem to be listening attentively. The smaller kid leaned against Skylar's shoulder, and Skylar smiled at her, before returning her eyes to the flickering fire.

Though he'd felt lonely a second earlier, Dale felt anger rising in him now. “So now she's playing 'family' with the Carmichaels? Did I miss something? I thought they didn't even like each other.”

“She has formed a friendship of sorts with them, yes,” said the spirit gently.

Dale felt a torrent of thoughts crashing within him. Everything was inside out, torn apart and jammed back together the wrong way. “Why?” was all he could manage.

“Sometimes people change, and the things that they think about the world change. Some things matter less; some things get more important. Skylar changed, and so did Trisha and Harry Carmichael.”

“Everything's changed,” grumbled Dale. He wished the spirit weren't smiling at him. “Okay, I've looked. Are we done here?” he asked.

The spirit raised his shoulders, as if to say 'As you wish'. He held out an arm to Dale. “We'll have to go quickly now. We've much still to see. I think we'll take the fast way,” he said. Before Dale could take a breath, they were flying through the night air. This time, they were moving even more quickly. They zoomed across the town, landing quickly on the ground near a house.

Dale followed the spirit through the outdoor wall, into another living room. This one was filled with a group of ten or twelve people. Dale recognized many of them as refugees. Some of them worked for him. They were squished onto various couches and chairs, and sprawled on the carpet. He saw Art sitting on the floor near the fireplace. They were singing a song Dale recognized as “Grandma got run over by a reindeer”, slapping the ground in time to the music. He leaned over to the spirit. “So am I here to see how the refugees are celebrating, even though they've lost almost everything?”

“And I thought you wouldn't catch on quick,” laughed the spirit. Dale rolled his eyes.

They made a few more quick stops, witnessing Christmas night scenes all around town. They stopped at the Taylors', where Jimmy was playing an elaborate game of hide-and-seek with his children. They stopped at a checkpoint outside of town, where Bill and Eddie Gilmour were playing cards. They flew over the military camp near the edge of New Bern. There were lights on in the tents.

“We're not going down to see how the army are 'making merry'?” asked Dale, the mocking tone fading from his voice as the spirit gave him a sharp glance.

“We don't need to see that,” said the spirit. “Just remember that there are people down there, just like you, away from home and family.”

“You want me to help them too?” asked Dale.

The spirit shook his head. “I'm not saying that. I'm just saying, remember that in the future.”

Their next stop was Bailey's. It seemed locked, but inside, there were a few lights. Emily Sullivan sat at the bar by herself, nursing a glass of clear liquid. The jukebox was on, and she swayed slightly on her stool.

“Why is she here? It's closed. Mary Bailey's over...I don't know where she went, but why is Miss Sullivan here?” asked Dale.

“Mary gave her the key. She tried to get her to go to the Richmond’s, but Emily Sullivan couldn't bring herself to go. I believe she said it would be too awkward,” answered the spirit.

“But she still shouldn't be here!” protested Dale. He looked at his former teacher, wishing for real that she could hear him if he talked to her. The spirit was watching him with a far-too smug expression.

“Indeed,” he said. “Alright then, next stop. We don't have all the time in the world.”

Dale followed him back through the door, bracing for the next take-off. They flew through the star-filled night, with nothing but the sound of the winter winds blowing past them, and... Bells?

Dale shook his head for a second, but he realized it was definitely bells that he heard. They pulled closer to the ground, and he saw the source of the bells. Gliding across the snow below them was a sleigh, being pulled by two horses. Crowded into the sleigh, under piles of blankets, were Jake, Heather, Eric and Mary. The bells were fixed to the horses' harnesses.

They followed the little sleigh across the snow-covered fields, to the yellow farmhouse, which seemed to be positively glowing. Stanley Richmond came bursting out of the house, and when he saw the sleigh approaching, stuck his head back inside. Several more people came outside on the porch, shivering because they weren't wearing coats. They all seemed enthralled with the sleigh, which Jake proudly stopped near the house. He stepped down and helped Heather and Mary descend too, carrying blankets with them. Stanley came running over, clapping Jake on the back. “It's your Grandpa's sleigh, isn't it?” he asked excitedly. “Wasn't it at the museum?”

“Yeah, it's a little project Heather and I were working on,” said Jake, quickly nodding at her.

“It didn't even need much fixing up. Now we can use it to get around in heavy snow,” said Heather, beaming.

“And of course, you can try it Stanley. Later. Right now, we're here for a party,” said Jake.

“Yeah, Stanley, some of us are freezing to death,” called Mimi from the porch, where she stood arm-in-arm with Bonnie, her teeth chattering. “You can play later.”

“Of course,” said Stanley, grabbing some of the blankets from Mary and kissing her on the cheek. “Welcome! Merry Christmas! Glad you could come!” He helped the guests through the snow and up on the porch, where Mimi and Bonnie ushered everyone inside. He went back over to help Jake put the horses in the barn.

Dale was watching Bonnie now. She had grabbed a stack of blankets and excitedly followed her guests inside. Dale didn't even wait for the spirit; he followed the guests into the house. There were a lot of people crammed inside the Richmond's living room. He recognized Allison Hawkins, Sean Henthorn, Bonnie's cousins, and several others he didn't know personally but by sight.

There was a small table set up with a big bowl of eggnog, and a pot of what looked like apple cider. Mimi was ladling out a selection of both drinks for her newly arrived guests. Bonnie finished laying out the blankets to dry, and came in to perch on the edge of an armchair. Jake and Stanley came inside, and found no places to sit in the crowded room. Stanley tried to sit on Mimi, who eventually got up and sat on him instead, and Jake leaned on the arm of the couch. Once everyone had a drink in hand, and Bonnie had passed around a bowl of popcorn, the guests stopped their individual conversations to resume their previous discussion.

“Come on Bonnie, what did he say?” asked a guy named Dylan.

“He said everyone who wants to celebrate is an idiot,” said Bonnie. Some people in the room sniggered.

“Yeah, well what's he got to celebrate?” asked Sean.

“Sean!” said Bonnie, signing something rapidly.

“Wait, who's this we're talking about?” asked Mary.

“Dale Turner. He turned down my eggnog,” said Mimi.

Dale stiffened suddenly. Another conversation about him.

“Bonnie went to give him eggnog and invite him to the party, and he pretty much told her that he thinks Christmas is for idiots,” said Stanley.

“He said with the army, and New Bern, and not having anything in his store, he didn't see the point,” said Bonnie.

“Well, he's right, in some ways,” said Eric quietly. He recoiled slightly from the mutinous looks he was getting from the rest of the crowd. “I'm just saying, it's easy to see why you'd think that. Don't tell me you all haven't had days where you've thought about how stupid it is that we're still trying to scrape together a 'holiday'.”

“And he's not the only person in town,” said Jake. There were nods around the room.

“But if we didn't think we should have times of the year to celebrate everything we still have, and to be hopeful about the future, why would we still be here?” asked Heather. “You can only go so long just surviving, without anything to look forward to, right?” she glanced around.

Dale scoffed. He was about to make his own comment when the spirit tapped his arm. “She won't hear you. None of them will. Better just keep listening.”

“Right,” agreed Bonnie. “I just feel bad, about Dale. He's the one who's missing out.”

“And you already invited him,” said Mimi. “I know it's sad, but it's up to him.”

“Yeah. I think he'll have to figure it out on his own,” said Stanley. “But still, 'Christmas is only for idiots'...It might take a while.”

Everyone was silent for a moment. Once again, Dale felt strangely conspicuous, as if everyone in the room could see him. He felt furious, on the one hand, that everyone had laughed at him, and that they pitied him, but he also felt slightly guilty at the look on Bonnie's face.

“Let's play a game!” said Stanley, a little over-enthusiastically.

“A game?” asked Jake with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah. Mom and Dad used to play these games back when they threw parties every Christmas. Come on, I cleared out all the furniture we didn't need, so there's lots of space. Everybody stand up.”

He stood up and motioned to Bonnie, who produced a scarf from the table.

“Who wants to be the first person 'it'?” he called.

“What are we playing?” asked Allison.

“I think it's blind-man's bluff,” said Eric.

“Okay, here are the rules,” said Stanley. “You can only run around this room and the hallway. When you're 'it' and you catch someone, you guess who they are by feeling - their face, Sean!”

Dale watched as the guests spread out - a difficult feat in the crowded room. Bonnie went first, dutifully letting Mimi tie the blindfold on her and spin her around.

“I swear, she has a sixth sense,” Stanley bragged. “She's better than I am. I think she can sense where people are.”

Sure enough, Bonnie staggered around and quickly caught and correctly identified her cousin James. He smashed into a wall on his turn, and guessed a bunch of names before he figured out he had caught Allison. Allison proved to be adept, moving quickly through the crowd, but faltered on the name guessing part. Dale could see she was a little embarrassed - she didn't know everyone at the party. Eventually, she realized it was Eric.

Eric caught Mimi, who almost gave up during her turn, but after a snarky remark from Stanley, she caught Mary. Dale laughed as Stanley taunted her, running in front of her and ducking out of the way. He laughed even harder when Bonnie and Mimi blocked his escape and he turned right into Mary's outstretched arms. She didn't need to guess who it was, having heard him shouting “No fair.”

Stanley, having paid attention to the room throughout the game, walked right over and caught Jake, who had been leaning against the wall, laughing at everyone else. Jake grudgingly accepted the blindfold and let Mary and Stanley spin him around until he was stumbling. Bonnie and Stanley ran in front of him, waving their arms, but instead of catching them, Jake tripped over Stanley and crashed straight into Heather, both of them hitting the ground. Eric raced forward to help a sheepish Jake and red-faced Heather off the floor, as Stanley roared with laughter, and soon everyone was laughing, including the two casualties.

Dale was laughing too, and though he never would have admitted it, he liked laughing along with this crowd. The game resumed, but no one could stop laughing now, and there was more bumping and smashing and tripping. Finally, Sean's turn came and everyone climbed onto the furniture to get away, evidently believing he wouldn't follow the rules. He eventually caught Mimi, and jumped back when he took off the blindfold and saw the foreboding look on her face.

At this time, mostly everyone had collapsed onto the chairs, so the game ended on a funny note, with Sean shrugging his shoulders, saying “What?” repeatedly.

“Admit it, Jake. You had fun,” said Stanley, leaning his head against Mimi's shoulder.

“Fine, Stanley,” said Jake, smiling in spite of himself. He was squished on the couch between Bonnie and Eric.

“What's the next game?” asked Sean from his seat on the floor.

“Everyone's catching their breath, Sean,” said Stanley.

“Aw, come on. We can play something else,” said Mimi. Stanley raised his eyebrows at her. She ignored him. “What else did you guys used to play, Bonnie?”

“She doesn't remember,” Stanley said quietly as Bonnie answered “Twenty questions.”

Now he raised his eyebrows at his sister. “Dad used to sign the guesses to me, because everyone was talking so fast and I couldn't keep up,” she said. “I'd get really mad if he didn't.”

Stanley was smiling at her now, with the expression of someone lost in a memory.

“Alright, twenty questions. I think we know that one. Who wants to go first?” Mimi asked, taking charge.

“Can I, since I won the last game?” asked Sean.

“You did not win -” started Mimi, but Stanley interrupted with “Okay, go ahead.”

Sean dramatically closed his eyes while he was thinking, and after a few seconds, opened them with a triumphant look. “I've got one. Start asking me questions.”

“Is it animal or mineral?” asked Mimi.

“Yes or no, Mimi,” said Bonnie.

“Whoops,” she said with a giggle.

“Is it something that's alive?” asked Heather.

“Yeah,” said Sean.

“Is it an animal?” asked Mimi.

“You could say,” said Sean.

“Is it a small animal?” asked Eric.

Sean shook his head.

“Do we have them in Kansas?” asked Mary.

Sean nodded.

“Is it something we hunt?” asked Bonnie's cousin Will.

“I hope not,” said Sean.

“Well, is it something Stanley would have in his barn?” asked Jake.

“No,” said Sean, a smile on his lips.

“Is it a dog?” asked Stanley.

Sean shook his head, grinning.

“Stanley, don't waste questions on guesses yet,” said Mimi.

“Is it an animal that is helpful to humans?” asked Heather.

“I'd say no,” said Sean.

“Is it cute?” asked Mimi.

“And you made fun of my question,” said Stanley.

“The answer is most definitely no,” said Sean. There were a few giggles in the room.

“Okay, does this animal live in Jericho? Like, actually in town?” supplied Allison.

“Yes,” said Sean.

Dale wished he could join in the game. “But we don’t have animals around these days. Not near town,” he said to the spirit.

“What does it do for winter? I mean, uh, does it hibernate?” asked Eric.

“Sort of. If you mean it hordes stuff,” said Sean, as Bonnie swatted his arm. “Yes or no,” she said. Most of the people in the room looked perplexed.

“We don't have any big animals living in town,” said Dale, directing this at the room full of faces. Though they couldn't hear him, the others seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“Do we have lots of them in town?” asked Mary.

Sean shook his head.

“Is this a friendly animal?” asked Mimi.

“No,” said Sean.

“Wait,” said Eric. “Is this animal a human?”

Sean nodded.

“An animal that isn't friendly, cute, or helpful to humans. This animal isn't here right now, is he? Or she?” asked Jake with a wry smile.

“No,” said Sean. “And you only have five questions left before I win.”

“Oh, hang on - is this human kind of grouchy?” asked Mimi. Sean laughed as he nodded.

“Does he like my eggnog?” she asked, a look of understanding dawning on her face, at the same time that Dale said “Wait a second.”

Sean shook his head, barely able to contain himself. “Sean...” Mimi began reproachfully, but looked as though she might laugh herself.

“Oh, I know!” said Stanley. “It's Dale Turner!”

Sean nodded, laughing out loud this time. Bonnie swatted him again, but no one could stop themselves from laughing along.

“Well, he had it coming. He didn’t want my fiancé’s eggnog,” said Stanley as Heather gave him a disappointed look, but even she couldn't keep herself from giggling.

Dale was beside himself. There had been times in his life he'd wanted to know what people were saying about him behind his back, but he realized now how much more blissful ignorance was. “I never said I didn’t want her eggnog!”

“They're just getting back at you for calling them idiots,” said the spirit sympathetically.

“I didn't call them idiots,” said Dale, helplessly looking around the room of people laughing at him.

“Okay, okay, I know it was funny to laugh at him, but seriously, we're a lot luckier than he is tonight, so I think we should lay off,” said Stanley.

“Stanley's right,” said Mimi through her giggles. Stanley poked her lightly. He reached for a glass of eggnog, and raised it up in the air. “Come on, everyone. Raise your eggnog. To Dale Turner!”

Everyone else, no doubt giddy from all the laughing and drinking, raised their glasses. “To Dale!” they said. All around the room, people clinked glasses and mugs together, and sipped the last of their Christmas drinks.

Dale felt lonelier than he had all night. It was the second time he had seen a roomful of people toast him after complaining about him. The party soon dissolved into many smaller conversations as Sean helped put more wood on the fire.

Dale watched Bonnie going around the room, taking people's cups to refill. When they used to be friends, Bonnie used to say that they were both town misfits. Now, she looked as though she was in her element, fluttering around her guests. True, many of them were her brother's friends, but a lot of them were people her own age. Some of them she must have befriended in the past year. He'd never known her to hang around Sean before last year, and Allison had just arrived in town then.

“I guess all the changes that come with the end of the world worked for her,” said Dale. “And them too,” he said, pointing at Eric and Mary, who had their arms around each other.

“You are seeing them on a happy day,” said the spirit. “Believe me, everyone here has just as many trials as you do.”

Dale moved closer to Mimi and the other women, who had congregated around the drinks. Mimi was showing off a necklace she wore. “I wasn't even expecting anything this year, and look at it. It used to be his mother's. Isn't it beautiful?” She held it out from her neck so they could examine it. She glanced shyly at Bonnie, who gave her a big smile.

“I told him you'd like it,” she said. Mimi looked relieved.

“Get Stanley to show everyone what you made him,” said Bonnie.

“Oh, it's drying by the fire,” she said. They all looked over. Lying near the hearth was a dark blue knit hat. “You knit, Mimi?” asked Heather incredulously. Mimi smiled proudly. “Surprising, huh?”

They walked back over to the chairs, and Mimi sat down on Stanley's lap again. Allison settled on the floor, Bonnie sat on the arm of the couch, and Heather glanced around, before finding a spot on the floor too. Dale noticed Jake, from his squashed place on the couch, watching her, but quickly looking away.

“I have a question, spirit,” said Dale. The spirit raised his eyebrows.

“Why are you showing me all this stuff? Clearly, everyone's got problems. Some of them different than mine, some the same, but most of all, things I have no control over. What can I do about the fact that Miss Sullivan is having a lonely Christmas? That some people have to spend it on border patrol? That Mrs. Green is sad? That some people could be less lonely, if they decided to do something about it themselves? These people are older, supposedly wiser than me, and a lot of them are better off than me.”

The spirit took a deep breath before speaking. “Well, Dale, I'm showing you these things because I think you have a chance to make things better. For yourself and everyone else. I'm not saying they're any better than you are, or that you're better. This is just your lesson to learn. You are smart, a little crafty, resilient, you know how to get things done, you've been a good leader when you needed to be, and you understand human suffering. The only thing you lack is the will to do something about it. I'm showing you potential- you've got everything you need to make a change, you just need to take action.”

Dale looked around. “But why me? These people hate me. Didn't you hear them?”

“They don't hate you,” the spirit said kindly. “They don't really know you.”

Dale found this conversation irritating. He'd known most of these people his whole life.

“Is that everything?” asked Dale. His loneliness was growing the more he watched these people talking and laughing and leaning close together in front of the fire.

“You've seen enough here,” said the spirit. Silently, he took Dale's arm and they began their flight back through the sky, in which light snowflakes were now falling.

As they traveled over Main Street, the familiar form of Gracie's Market rose ahead. They landed and went back inside, straight through the back wall and into Dale's room.

“Remember,” said the spirit, standing in the doorway, “It isn't just about survival.”

With that, he was gone. The room was dark and cold again. Although Dale had wanted to get away from the Richmonds' party, now he realized part of him wished he were back in the warm living room, surrounded by voices and laughter. He shivered and climbed back under the sleeping bag.

The cot creaked as he leaned back, thinking about everything that had happened. He had seen the past; it had left him feeling warm and desperately sad. He had seen the present, where some people were happy but most were struggling in some way. That left only the future. He shuddered. He did not want to see what would become of them all. Not with the way things had been going already this year.

He tried to reassure himself as he lay waiting. He had seen Mrs. Leigh tonight. Then there had been the gentle ghost of Christmas past, and the cheery ghost of Christmas present. The next spirit would probably be a familiar face as well. He wouldn't be alone.

Though he told himself this again and again, his fears had not really subsided when he was shell-shocked again. With a huge BANG and a puff of smoke, a figure appeared right beside his bed. Coughing and waving smoke out of his eyes, Dale peered fearfully at the spirit standing over him.

Dale stared at the third spirit. Unlike the other spirits, this one did not seem familiar or warm. He (Dale assumed it was a he, because it was so tall) was dressed in dark clothes. He wore a hooded sweatshirt, with a long black coat, and a ski mask obscuring his face. He said nothing. Dale stared up at him and felt a chill run up his spine. Still, the figure said nothing.

    “Are - are you the spirit of Christmas that is still to come?” asked Dale, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

    The spirit nodded. He stood, still and silent. Though every cell in his body screamed not to, Dale climbed out of bed and forced himself to walk up to the spirit. The spirit grabbed his wrist in its gloved hand, and with another bang, they vanished from the room and appeared outside.

    At first smoke surrounded him, and he couldn't see much else. As he brushed the smoke out of his eyes, he could see that they were standing on Main Street, near Town Hall. It looked near the same as it had before, but he noticed a few differences. He saw large paper signs posted on the outsides of several buildings. They had big block letters, in red, and seemed to be listing rules. He looked around the corner and was surprised to see two men, in military fatigues, standing guard in front of Bailey's. One of the front windows was smashed, and it was dark inside.

    It was midday, but there weren't many people walking in the street. There were Christmas decorations up in some of the windows, but it seemed as though everything was more subdued this year. The spirit started walking up the street - actually he seemed to glide. Dale carefully followed behind him. He had a shock as he approached the intersection past the Cyberjolt Cafe and a pair of soldiers marched by, the nearest walking right through him. They were silent as they trudged along in their boots.

    “What's going on?” asked Dale. The spirit said nothing, and revealed nothing through his hood and ski mask. There was such a foreboding feeling in the air, Dale was uneasy.

    They approached the church, where once again, Christmas service was letting out. Dale noticed that most people were going home quickly, not stopping to chat as long as they had before. It didn't seem like anyone wanted to stay outside for very long. Dale glanced at the spirit again, but he didn't indicate what to do, so Dale, after taking a deep breath, walked into the crowd.

    He passed through several people on their way out, trying to ignore the chilled feeling it still gave him to walk through these shadow-people. Strangely, he could see a few familiar faces in the front, kneeling in the first pew. Bonnie had her hands folded as if in prayer, but she was really in the midst of a hushed conversation with Allison Hawkins and Dylan Morgan, a guy who had been two years ahead of them in school. He quickly went up to catch part of their conversation.

    Allison was whispering “...and the military didn't want them to go get him, but Jake convinced them. They left really early this morning.”

    Dylan shook his head. “What was he even doing out there?”

    Allison whispered back, “Some off-the-books trading. I don't know why he'd go out there like that. It's pretty stupid.”

    “Jeez, sorry Bonnie. I know you were friends,” said Dylan.

    Bonnie had a hardened expression when she said, “Honestly, I'm more worried about my brother right now. The roads are bad this time of year.”

    “And you know, they're going to use this as an excuse to crack down even more on us. They'll say it's for our own protection,” said Allison.
     
    “Oh well. Just makes it harder for us,” said Dylan with a smile on his lips. Bonnie closed her eyes for a moment, as if bracing herself.
       
    “So,” asked Dylan, when she had opened her eyes again. “Tuesday, right?”

    “Right,” said Allison. “The back-up place.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Okay, we better go now. I think we've done all the praying anyone will believe.”

    They stood and quickly followed the stragglers out of the church.

    “There’s your dad,” Dylan said to Allison, pointing towards a man beside the church, his hands stiffly held at his sides as he waited.

    “I’ve got to go,” she said quickly, and she hurried over to her father. They walked away in silence.

    “It's still early. Do you want to do anything?” asked Dylan.

    “No, I better catch up with Mimi,” said Bonnie. “If Stanley's not there when we get back, she'll be worried.”

    “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Dylan.

    Bonnie just nodded. “Merry Christmas,” she said, before hurrying across the street where Mimi was waiting.

    Dylan left shortly after her. The street was clearing quickly now. The afternoon sun shone weakly through the gray skies.

    “Is anyone celebrating?” Dale asked, somewhat amazed at how everything had changed since the last Christmas he'd seen.

    The spirit turned his masked face towards Dale. He reached out and with another loud crack, they were transported to another building.

    He recognized it instantly from earlier in the night. It was the room where the group of refugees had gathered. Now, there were even more of them, and they were listening eagerly to what one man, whom Dale did not recognize, was saying.

    “...so they went to go retrieve the body early this morning. Looks like those 'businessmen' he was meeting with double crossed him.”

    “Serves him right,” said one of the refugees that worked for Dale, a man named Tom. “They did to him what he's done to lots of others.”

    “He never killed anybody,” said Dave, another of Dale's men.

    “I mean he screwed people over. How many promises did he make us, then break his word, huh?” Several people nodded their heads.

    “What's going to happen to his land now?” asked a woman named Lucy.

    “I don't know, but I'm guessing Gray will try to claim it for the town. If the army doesn't just claim it for themselves,” said the storyteller. The others murmured restlessly.

    “They'll say we were lucky they let us go out to get the body,” said Dave.

    “As if any of us wanted it,” said Tom. There were snickers around the room.

    “What are they doing with it?” asked Art, who was leaning against the wall.

    “Well, they've got it over at the cemetery. Last I heard, Stanley Richmond was asking around if anybody'd help them dig. The ground's pretty hard,” finished the man who had delivered the news.

    “So what did you say, Jim?” asked Lucy.

    “I said I'd go. If there's a lunch provided,” said Jim, with a laugh.

    “Sounds right to me,” said Tom, and the rest of the room echoed with laughter.

    Dale's face had gone white. These people that he knew had been through a lot, but he'd never heard them talking with such coldness.

    “Spirit,” he whispered, “Is that enough?”

    The spirit slowly reached out his gloved hand, and with another small explosion, they were somewhere else again.


    It was a dark room, and Dale had to wait for his eyes to adjust. A grizzled man with dull gray hair sat on a camping stool, surrounded by piles of shadowed objects. Dale couldn't even make out what they were in the dim lighting. He realized, though, that they were inside a tent. The man was eating something out of a thermos, and Dale was suddenly reminded of another man, much like this man, doing the same thing at Black Jack fairgrounds. The man looked up as two other men entered the tent, pulling off ski masks as they walked. Their arms were full of things, and they dumped them on the ground in front of the man.

    “So, what've you got?” asked the seated man.

    “We didn't do too bad. We brought back the truck and dumped the body,” said the shorter man.

    “I hope you were careful. You know they've got patrols on the roads lately,” the seated man said.

    “Don't worry. We made sure it didn't look like it was our job. We shot the driver,” said the taller man.

    “And I drove his truck back here. It's full of stuff,” said the short one.

    “Like what?” asked the seated man, unimpressed.

    “Old electronics, looks like some working parts, stuff made out of metal, extra diesel, and salt,” said the tall one nonchalantly.

    “And personal items,” said the short one, reaching down to the pile and lifting a sleeping bag. “I got a lantern, and a handgun.”

    “And show him your new coat,” said the tall one.

    The other man tugged on the collar of the coat he was wearing. “Pretty nice, huh?”

    The seated man put down his thermos and laughed. “Miller, you took it right off the body?”

    “Yeah. It's not going to make him any warmer now, is it?” Miller deadpanned. The three thieves laughed.

    Dale felt like he would be sick. He had heard of people having run-ins with the road gangs, even knew they stole coats right off people's backs, but he'd never thought about what kind of person would wear his victim's coat.

    “Spirit,” he pleaded. “I can't stand this. Please, show me a death that someone cares about.”

    The spirit gave a non-committal nod, but grabbed his arm and with a loud bang, they were no longer standing in the thieves' tent. They were outside a familiar house, again. It was the Greens' house.

    Dale felt a sense of dread rising within him. “No. It wasn't someone from here that died, was it?” In his mind, he imagined suddenly Jake or Eric, lying dead and coat-less on the road. The spirit merely motioned to the house. Dale slowly walked up the porch steps and through the door, forcing himself to find out.

    The house was eerily quiet. The living room was empty, and aside from a few decorations, quite dreary looking, but maybe it was just Dale's fear about what may have happened. He walked into the dining room - and narrowly avoided walking right through Heather. She was pacing nervously across the floor. Mary was sitting at the table, one hand on her stomach, which had grown a great deal since he'd last seen her.

    “Heather, stop freaking out,” Mary was saying. “They'll be back soon.”

    “I should have gone myself. I wanted to go. It's so much better than staying here worrying.”

    Mary laughed. “Now you know how we felt last year.”

    “It's not funny,” said Heather, a note of panic in her voice. “Something could have happened. They're being so tough these days.”

    “And it was important that we don't draw any more attention to ourselves,” said Mary. “You know they're already suspicious of Jake and Eric. I'd say you're the only one of us they don't suspect.”

    “I know,” said Heather, sighing. “It's just infuriating. All of this. What happened to you...”

    “Look,” Mary put a hand on Heather's arm, stopping her from crossing the room again. “I'm okay. No one got hurt. The bar - well, we'll fix it later. I was bound to take some time off soon anyway.” She patted her stomach. “It's not that late,” she added, as Heather looked out the window again.

    “I see someone!” yelled Heather, and Dale jumped aside as she dashed through the doorway, just as the front door was flung open.

    Jake stood in the doorway, a sombre look on his face. Heather flung her arms around him, and he hugged her, but didn't lose the weary expression.

    Mary had struggled to her feet and joined them, and now she looked a little panicked. “Where's Eric?”

    Jake held out a hand to calm her down. “He's fine. He just wanted to take his time there.”

    She breathed a sigh of relief.

    “So are you guys okay?” he asked, walking towards the dining room, one arm still around Heather.

    “Fine. Just a little restless being stuck here,” said Mary, glancing at Heather.

    Jake chuckled a little in spite of himself. “Sorry. You really wouldn't have wanted to go where we went today. They gave us hell at the checkpoint.”

    Heather looked like she wanted to say more, but Mary cut in “We're just glad everyone's safe. Well, everyone that left this morning, anyway.”
         
    “And how's junior today?” asked Jake.
       
    “I'd say, the calmest person here,” said Mary. “Look what we found in the basement today.” She pointed to the table. It was scattered with knit baby clothes. They were mostly blue.

    “Wow. I can't believe she saved those,” said Jake, gently picking up a sweater.

    “I'm all set if we have a boy,” said Mary.

    “Or a girl,” said Heather. “Girls can wear blue.”

    Jake chuckled. “What?” asked Heather.

    “Nothing, not a thing. I just knew you'd say that,” he said, trying to give her his most serious face before she could say any more.

    She smiled, shaking her head. “At least your niece or nephew will have something to wear.”

    “Why isn’t he back yet?” Mary had walked over to the window again. “I guess I should be used to waiting. I've waited for Eric a lot of times before.” She gave a half-hearted laugh. The others didn't say anything. Dale could almost feel the aching in her voice. “He's so slow to come home at the end of the day, so much more lately,” she continued.

    “He's always been that way,” said Jake. “The only time I remember him coming home quickly was for those last few days, when Mom was still...”

    He trailed off, but the look on his face revealed the rest to Dale. The three people stood in silence for a long time, and the waiting was agonizing for Dale too. He had only seen Jake look this bad on the day his father had died. That time, it had been fresh pain, but now he had the look of a man who was used to carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders.

    After a while, Heather broke the silence. “Mary, how about we sit down. I'll make tea.”

    “Okay,” Mary said, but stopped suddenly looking out the window. “He's coming.”

    Dale couldn't jump out of the way fast enough, as three shadow persons ran through him in a row. He shuddered, but had little time to think about it as Eric had come through the door.

    He had pulled Mary into a hug, and was smiling at her, but he had the same weariness in his walk that Jake had. Jake helped him take off his coat and went to hang up his own. Heather hugged him too.

    “I'm glad you're okay,” she said.

    “You too. Thanks for looking out for my family,” he whispered conspiratorially.
   
    “Come on, Eric. Sit,” called Mary. He sank into the couch beside her. Jake came back into the room, and he and Heather took seats in the chairs.
 
    “So, how did it go?” asked Heather breathlessly.
 
    “Found him on the old Wainwright road,” said Jake. “Didn't see anyone else out there. It was coming back we ran into a bit of trouble with the guards.”

    “They wanted to examine the body,” said Eric. “I don't know, maybe they thought he was connected with the resistance somehow. Funny, because it's so far from true.”

    “We managed to convince them to let us take him to the cemetery. I don't know, maybe we should have thrown a funeral, but the way things have been lately, I don't think I could do it right now. I got Reverend Matthews down there. He said a few words,” said Jake.

    “It's okay, Jake. You know you don't have to take on everything in town,” said Mary. “Did anyone else come out?”

    “Just some of the refugees. I guess they wanted to pay their respects,” said Jake. He sighed deeply, and leaned back into his chair.

    “How's Stanley?” asked Mary.

    “A little freaked out, but he'll be fine,” said Eric. “No, nothing happened. He just didn't like the way things went out there.” He sighed himself. “I saw Mom when I was up there,” he said slowly.

    Mary's eyes grew bigger, but she waited for him to continue. “You know, when everyone was gone, it was so peaceful. I think she'd like to be there, right at the top of the hill. Beside Dad. Near April.”

    There was a hush in the room. “It's so different this year,” Eric continued. “I just - sometimes I still can't believe it.” He made an odd choking noise, and wiped furiously at his face.

    “I know,” whispered Mary, her hand on his.

    “I wish she was here, so badly. She wanted to meet her grandchild, so much. I know she’d give anything to see you get married.” He glanced across the room. Jake was looking at him with a fierce look in his eyes, as if determined to stay strong for his little brother. His jaw was clenched, but he looked close to tears himself. Heather's eyes were brimming too.

    “I know how hard it is, doing this without her,” Jake said in an uneven voice. “But she always thought we should celebrate, even through all the bad times. So we're going to remember, right?”

    Everyone sat thinking, not wanting to move. Finally, Heather stood.

   “Does anyone want some tea? I think we have cider too,” she asked.
 
    Eric still couldn't say anything. Jake stood up too. “Sounds good. Let's go get it,” he said, with a meaningful glance at the couch, where Eric sat with his head in his hands. The two of them went over to the kitchen, and Dale considered following, but felt rooted to the spot.

    Mary was sitting, carefully watching Eric. “Do - do you want me to leave you alone?” she asked hesitantly.
   
    “No,” he said, his voice breaking. “I'm sorry, I just -” he broke off, dissolving into sobs. Mary leaned against him, both arms wrapped around him. “It's okay,” she whispered.
 
    Dale watched the scene with a stinging in his own eyes. All night, he'd felt an urge to run away every time he'd seen someone feeling this devastated. Now, it felt like a relief to see someone feeling something deeply, to see someone who loved someone else enough to cry. The scenes he'd witnessed, among the refugees and the thieves, had been much worse.

    Eric's tears had subsided a little when Jake and Heather returned with mugs in their hands. They handed two to Eric and Mary, and stood together on the other side of the coffee table.

    “I know it's not wine, or Bailey's finest, but I'd like to propose a toast,” said Jake. At first, they looked at him strangely, but Heather raised her mug and the others followed suit.
         
    “To Mom,” said Jake. “One of our most...someone we really miss. We'll remember her, always, and we'll try to make her proud. We'll make sure the people who didn't get to know her will know how much she loved us.” He nodded towards Mary, who gave him a faint smile.

    “To Mom,” said Jake again, shakily holding his mug of cider in the air. The others echoed him, and took sips of hot tea and cider. Heather put her arm around Jake's waist, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Good toast,” she whispered.

    “Maybe you have the makings of a mayor in you yet,” joked Eric.

    Jake grimaced. “Don't start that again.”

    They all laughed. Dale watched them, wishing dearly that Gail was there with them, and wondering how they still managed to laugh.
 
    “Why did this have to happen? Why does everything keep happening like this? Isn't there anything we can do?” he asked the spirit. The spirit said nothing, just fixed him with what he imagined was a blank stare. He reached out a gloved hand, and before Dale could protest, another explosion sent them away.

    As the smoke cleared, Dale could see that they were standing at the edge of the cemetery, the one on the outskirts of town. It was completely deserted. The skies overhead were darkening, and wind howled through the rows of tombstones. Dale felt, even worse than before, the feeling of dread inside him.
       
    “Spirit, I feel like our time is almost up. Am I right?” he asked.
       
    The spirit took a step forward, and stretched out one arm, pointing up the hill. Dale could feel the hairs on the back of his neck bristling. He took a step forward. He stopped.

    “The person they were talking about earlier - the one who got killed by the thieves - I thought it was Jake, or Eric, or Stanley, but they were okay. Who was it?”

    Once again, the spirit was silent and still. His finger remained pointing at the hill. Dale stepped forward again, and again. His legs felt like lead.

    “Spirit...” he said, turning around. “Just tell me one thing. Please. These things I've seen...are they the future, the way it's all going to turn out, or is it just what might happen?”

    The spirit said nothing. He stepped forward, his arm still raised and his finger pointing.

    Dale stepped slowly. He could feel his breath quickening. “If there's any way I can change it, if I can stop things from turning out this way, I will. I swear, I'll do anything I can.”

    The spirit kept walking, pointing.

    “I'll remember everything I've learned. Everything I've seen. I'll keep it all with me, forever. Mom, Gracie, Christmas past, present, future, I'll keep it all in my heart,” he said plaintively.

    The spirit stopped. He pointed towards a gravestone that was covered in snow.
       
    Dale felt that everything hinged upon that stone. “Please. Tell me I can change. I can change. I will. Please,” begged Dale. The spirit grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him forward.

    Dale took a deep breath. With a shaking hand, he wiped the snow off of the grave marker. Under his hand, the letters appeared, just as he had known they would. He sank to his knees. He sobbed.

    He stared at the lonely gravestone, marked “Dale Turner”.

    “This isn't how I want it to end!” he cried. “Please, you can't let it end this way.” He turned to the spirit and grabbed him by the sleeve. “Please, I need a chance. That's all I'm asking for. I don't want to be this person. I don’t want this to be the end.”

    The spirit tried to pull away, and Dale grabbed him by the ski mask. The mask came off in his hand, and he recoiled at the face now in front of him.

    The twisted features of Mitchell Cafferty laughed at him. “Of course you'll end this way, Dale Turner. You're just like me.”

    Dale swallowed and narrowed his eyes. “I'm not just like you,” he spat. “I won't let it end this way.” He grabbed the spirit by the arm.

    The spirit with Mitchell's face leaned down. “You have no choice.”

    Dale pulled him even closer so they were face to face. “There's always a choice,” he said.

    Mitchell chuckled again. “I'm sure that's what they taught you over at Gracie's Market. But this is the end, and there are no more chances!”

    Dale could feel the ground slipping from under him. The grave was caving in and he was sliding into it. “No!” he shouted, holding on to the spirit. “NO!”

     He was falling, falling, falling - and he landed in a hard darkness.

 He was falling, through the darkness, deep into the ground. This was the end. He was sinking into his own grave…

    He landed with a thud. He opened his eyes. He was on the floor in his room, twisted in his sleeping bag. There were rays of sunshine peaking through the cracks in the blinds on the small window. Breathing heavily, he looked around the room. There were no eerie lights, jolly laughter, or nightmare-inducing spectres. Just the dim lighting of his store bedroom.
   
    Then maybe it wasn't over. There was time.
   
    He threw on his coat and shoes, not bothering to change into new clothes. He raced down the hall and through the front room of the store, unlocking the front door.

    The street looked as it had the day before, covered in soft white snow, glistening in the midday light. The sky was bright and just as they had in his dream, people were strolling along, exchanging Christmas greetings. So it hadn't happened yet, the present or future things he'd seen. He had to be sure.
   
   He saw a young boy running past, a sled in tow.

   “Hey!” he called. “Hey, kid!”

   The boy stopped. Dale recognized him as one of the boys from the class of carolers. Pushing aside his guilt at how he'd sent them away, he went on.

   “What day is it?” he asked.

   The kid stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. “It's Christmas,” he said.

    Dale laughed out loud. “So I'm not too late! It happened all in one night. Well, I guess they could do it all in one night, they're ghosts, they can do whatever they want.”

    The kid was watching him with his mouth open. “Mister, do you need help or something?”

   “Help?” asked Dale, a distracted smile on his face. “Oh, yeah, that would be great. Do you know if the church service let out yet?”
         
   The kid shook his head. “It's on in a little while. I'm supposed to meet my parents there.”
       
   Dale clasped his hands together. “Oh, that's great, that's really great! Listen, I have some things I've got to bring over there. Would you mind helping me, you know, with that cool sled you've got there?”

     “Uh, okay,” said the kid, a little confused.
   
     “Thank you!” exclaimed Dale. “You're a great kid, thank you!” He led the way into the store and got to work.
             
      About twenty minutes later, Dale and Justin (for that was the kid's name) were walking towards the Church, dragging the sled behind them. When they reached the church, they dragged the sled up the steps. “Thanks, Justin. Can I give it back to you when church is over?” asked Dale.

     “Okay,” said Justin, going inside to find his family.

    Dale took one shaky breath before he went in too. He hadn't been inside the church in a long time. The service had already started and it was packed with people. He carefully pushed his way through the crowd until he spotted Jimmy Taylor. Jimmy was watching the front of the room, beaming. Dale followed his gaze and saw Jimmy's daughter, dressed in her angel costume, standing on a podium and saying something about “the new-born king”. He couldn't tear Jimmy away now. He looked around again.

    He spotted Gail Green near the front, also watching the kids' pageant. He waited until the pageant was finished and the congregation was singing a hymn before sneaking up to the front.

    “Mrs. Green,” he whispered.

    “Dale,” she said with surprise.
         
    “Do you think you could come out here for a minute?” he asked.

    “Right now?” she whispered back.
         
    “I don't want to interrupt, but I think you should see this before everyone leaves,” he said. He tried to show her he was earnest. She seemed to buy it, because she got up and followed him, mouthing “I'll be right back,” to an anxious looking Jake.

    She came out to the front of the church, and he pointed to the sled. It was piled with things from the store.

    “What's all this?” she asked.

    “Just a donation I helped deliver,” he said nonchalantly. “I don't know if it's too late, but I thought maybe the people at this service, the refugees especially, could take some stuff on their way out. And people could take things for their friends and neighbours who aren't here.”

    She bent down to look at the stuff. “I couldn't really find any more winter clothes, but I thought people could still use some of these things. We still had some travel games and kids' stuff stocked in the back too.”

    She was speechless for a moment, as she looked through the bundles of toys, dishes, and household items. “This is a generous gift, Dale,” she said.

    “No, it's just-” Dale stammered. He really wished he could remain anonymous this time. “Do you think it'll work? Handing it out after church?”

    “I don't see why not,” she said grinning. “Do you want to help hand it out?”

    “If it's all the same, I'd rather not. I have some other things I have to do soon,” he said.

    “Okay,” she said conspiratorially. “I'll get a couple others to help me. Do you want to go back inside?”

    Dale shrugged, but went back inside anyway. He was busy formulating his plan as he searched through the crowd. He could see the Richmonds, not far away, and there was Art, sitting with some of the others who worked for Dale. He made a mental note to plan something special for all his crew when they came back to work. They really didn't get to relax very often, and he wanted to start celebrating more himself. He noticed Emily Sullivan, sitting across the aisle. She was smiling now, watching the kids singing. He sighed. He hoped he was going about this the right way.
         
    Just before it was over, Gail Green made an announcement that Santa had left some presents down in the basement, and any family who was in need of anything should come downstairs and pick something. She said it delicately enough that everyone knew the gifts were for people who really needed them, but no one would feel bad accepting them. The ripple of excitement that spread through the crowd, especially the kids when they heard Santa had visited, made Dale’s cheeks glow.

     As the service let out, he was one of the first people to exit, since he had been at the back. He stood off to the side, watching as people streamed out. If everything was really happening the same way it had with the ghost of Christmas present last night, he'd have to be careful in his timing. Of course, some people were downstairs this time, checking out his gifts. He looked around quickly.

    Art was standing nearby. “Merry Christmas, Art!” said Dale, cheerfully.

    Art looked like he'd seen a ghost. “I didn't - didn't expect to see you here,” he said.

    “Listen, Art. Would you like to take tomorrow off too?” asked Dale. “You did work Christmas Eve, after all.”

    “Seriously?” asked Art, suspiciously.

    “Yes,” said Dale, putting on the most serious face he could. “And I'm sorry if it was a pretty miserable Christmas Eve. I wasn't the most friendly.”

    “No, you were okay,” said Art carefully.

    “Well, I've got to go, but have a Merry Christmas!” said Dale, chuckling to himself at the stunned look on Art's face as he wished Dale a Merry Christmas.
       
    Dale stepped aside and looked around hurriedly. Who did he have to see next? The Richmonds! He spun around. He could see them walking across the icy sidewalk. That meant any moment, Mimi was going to...
       
     He dashed forward as Mimi slipped on the ice, catching her arm just before she fell. Three pairs of eyes stared at him in surprise. “Dale!” Bonnie choked out.
 
     “You'd think with all the salt we have, we wouldn't have icy sidewalks,” said Dale with a grin.

     “Thanks,” said Mimi, still looking shocked.

    “No problem,” said Dale, turning to Bonnie. “Bonnie, I just wanted to know if I'm still invited to your party tonight.”

    Her expression changed from amazement to pleasure. “Yeah. Of course. If you don't think celebrating is for idiots.” She raised an eyebrow.

    “No, believe me, I don't,” he said. “But I'm not sure how I'm going to get there. The road's pretty snowy. Do you know anyone with a truck or something?”

    “My cousins. They can bring a bunch of people in the back of their truck,” she said. “We can let them know to pick you up on our way home now.”

    “That would be great,” he said. “But do you think they could pick me up somewhere else?”

    He whispered the location to Bonnie, who looked puzzled, but nodded. He watched out of the corner of his eye. Jake was approaching. That meant he had to move on to the next person. “I'll see you guys later!”

    “Bye Dale!” called Bonnie as he made his way over to the corner of the building. There was Emily, standing and waiting.

    “Miss Sullivan!” he said as he walked up to her.

    “Oh, hi Dale!” she said distractedly. She recovered quickly and gave him a smile. “Merry Christmas!”

    “You too,” he said. “What are you doing for the holiday?” he asked.

    She laughed. “You know, hang out with a friend or two, read a book. How about you Dale?” she asked.

    He sighed. She didn't know her friend was going to the party yet. “Listen, I have this idea, and if you're not doing anything, maybe you can help. Would you mind? I'd only need your help later today.”

    He hoped she wouldn't ask too many questions. He explained a little of what he had in mind. She didn't seem very enthused, but she agreed, he suspected, because she didn't want to disappoint him.

     “That's great, Miss Sullivan. I'll meet you at the house,” he said. He was afraid for a minute she was going to keep waiting, but she left then, off to get her part of the plan ready.

     He walked through the throng of people again. Jake was waving goodbye to the Richmonds and Mimi. “Jake...” he said cautiously.

    “Yeah?” asked Jake, a little suspiciously.

    Dale walked backwards a little, hoping Jake would follow him. He did, reluctantly. Now he only had to stall a little. “Uhhh, I hope you guys are having a good Christmas. I know it's been hard on your Mom.”

    “Yeah, it has,” said Jake, a little harshly. His expression softened then. “But thanks, I guess. How about you?”

     Dale glanced over his shoulder. “It's been really strange so far, but I think it's going to turn out great. Well, I hope.” He turned around. Heather was walking along the sidewalk, struggling with the pile of costumes.

     He looked back at Jake. He had seen too. “Uh, I'll see you later Dale. Have a good one!” said Jake.

     He walked over and held out his arms. Dale couldn't hear what they were saying, but could tell she was telling him she could handle it herself. Finally, she accepted and dumped half of the costumes in his arms.

    Dale smiled as he turned away. He knew he couldn't make things right for everyone, but he could try to show them potential.

    Now, he had some time to enjoy the day before the evening came and the rest of his plan was put into motion. He decided to go for a walk.

    As he passed houses and streets, a lot of the scenes looked familiar. He had seen these things in his dream, but this felt so much more real. He could feel the December winds brushing through his clothes, and he could feel the snow crunching beneath his feet. The smells of food cooking made his stomach growl.

    He walked past the Hawkins' house. Allison was helping her little brother make a snowman. He didn't know Allison very well, but he approached the house anyway.

   “Hi,” he said when she looked over at him.

   “Hi Dale,” she said.

   “Hi!” said the little brother, who introduced himself as Sam. After Dale admired the snowman, he told Allison about his plan. She agreed to it, and Dale felt triumphant as he walked away.

    Next, he stopped at Jimmy Taylor's house. Jimmy's daughter answered the door, still wearing an angel costume.

    “Hi!” said Dale. “I saw you in the play at church. It was really good.”

    “Thank you,” she said with a shy smile.

    “Do you think you could get your dad for me?” he asked.

    She ran down the hall, and a minute later, was back with Jimmy. “Dale,” he said seriously.

     “Hi Deputy Taylor,” said Dale. He swallowed. He wanted to say this carefully. “I just wanted to say sorry if I offended you at the store yesterday. I said some things I didn't mean. Well, I may have meant it at the time, but I don't believe it now.”

    Jimmy just nodded.

   “Do you like eggnog?” asked Dale.

    Jimmy looked surprised. “Yeah, sure.”

    Dale handed him the bottle from his fridge. “Don't serve it to the kids. Mimi Clark made it and I think it's alcoholic.”

    Jimmy chuckled. “Thanks.”

   “And here's something for the kids.” Dale thrust a jar of bubbles and a yo-yo into Jimmy's hands. “I know it's no Playstation, but-”

    “No, it's great, thanks,” said Jimmy. “What do you say, Sally?”

    “Bubbles!” the little girl shrieked, grabbing them from her father's hand. “Thank you!” she said after her father nudged her.

     Dale smiled. “Merry Christmas,” he said, giving them a wave and leaving them to stare after him in amazement.

     He kept walking down the street, and then stopped. He could see the Carmichaels’ house. He didn't know if Skylar was there right now, or if she was visiting somewhere else. He kept walking. He'd have time to think about that later.

     As he turned down another street, he saw Heather walking along the sidewalk. Fate seemed to be helping him out, as he now knew the missing piece in his plan.

     “Heather!” he called across the street. She stopped and looked over in puzzlement. He dashed across the road, hoping she'd be as willing to help as the others had.













     Dale ate a quick Christmas lunch/dinner in the break room. Next year he'd plan ahead and get himself invited to someone else's dinner. Maybe he'd even host one himself. Of course, next year, things would probably be a bit more stressful, with the army...He stopped himself from dwelling too much on that future possibility. He could imagine the ghost of Christmas present, telling him to focus on what he can do instead of the things he really can't control.

     He quickly cleared away his dishes, and went to sit in the front of the store. It wasn't long before Heather appeared at the door. He unlocked it and led her into the back room.

    “Wow,” she said softly, looking around at all the things that Gracie had procured by trading, back in the days after the bombs. “So none of these were plugged in, right?”

     “Right,” he said. “I thought most of them were useless, that's why they're still here, but the Greens have a got an old t.v. that works. They just don't have anything to watch. Do you think there's anything here that would work?”

     She bent over and examined a few things. “I think this one might,” she said. “Or maybe this one.”
     
     A few moments later, Dale was locking up the store. He bent down and picked up the bundle wrapped in a tarp, and he and Heather, carrying a similar package, set out.

     Dale felt a little awkward walking along with her, since he'd never spoken much to her in real life, but he'd witnessed her future, sad moments and all. He got over it quickly, though, as she asked him a bunch of questions. He told her about growing up in Jericho, and, surprisingly, about his mother. He had spoken of her seldom since she had died last year, but seeing her the night before, he felt eager to hold on to her, somehow. Talking out loud about her, to someone else, made her feel real again, like she had really existed outside of his dreams.

    Quickly, they reached their destination. It looked so much like it had in his dream the night before, he could almost picture the spirit of Christmas present peering in the window.

    Heather stopped, looking up at the house a little nervously. Dale continued up, knocking on the door, knowing she'd follow.

    Eric answered the door, wearing the same funny combination of sweaters. “Dale, Heather. What are you guys doing here?”

    Jake and Mary came to stand near the door too. Dale smiled to himself at the surprise on their faces.

    “Come in,” said Jake, pushing his brother and sister-in-law out of the way.

    “I know I'm early, but Dale had a gift he wanted to bring you,” said Heather.

    They all looked at him. “It's for - well, it's for all of you, but it's especially for Mrs. Green,” said Dale.

    Jake was looking at him strangely, but a smile was forming on his face. “Should I go get her?” he asked.

    “Actually, you should go get the t.v. from the basement,” said Dale.

    He looked like he would ask more questions, but Heather gave him a look, and he went to get the t.v.

    Eric clapped his hands together. “Anything we can do to help?” he asked.

    “Are you guys finished the dish - uh, dinner?” asked Dale.

    “We were just finishing dessert actually,” he answered. “Mom's still in there.”

    “You guys go back in there, and we'll work on the present,” Dale said.

    Eric and Mary went back into the dining room, sneaking glances over their shoulders.

     Heather, meanwhile, had unwrapped the two v.c.r.'s and was busy examining them. She had opened her backpack, which Dale noticed was full of tools. Jake came into the room, lugging the old television set. “Whoa, do those work?” he asked.

    “We'll see,” said Heather, not looking up from her task.

    Jake put the old t.v. down on the floor and started clearing off the t.v. stand. Eric stuck his head through the door. “Dale, Mom wants you to come in here. If you're not working on the project right now,” he said, glancing over at the others, who didn't even look up.

    “Sure,” said Dale, smiling to himself as he followed Eric.

    He went into the dining room. Gail was sitting at the table, a warm smile on her face. The dessert plates were still on the table. Dale had forgotten they had had apple crumble.

    “Would you like some, Dale?” she asked, holding up a plate.
 
    He accepted eagerly, sitting in front of the dessert and spooning it into his mouth. It was the most delicious thing he'd eaten in a long time.

    “This is so good, Mrs. Green,” he said. She smirked.

    “Eric made it,” she said. “With my directions.”

    “Well, it's really good, Eric,” said Dale.

    The others were sitting too, and they were all watching him as he ate. He didn't mind tonight. He was so glad to be invited.

    When he was finished, Eric and Mary cleared all the plates, and went to start the dishes. Dale leaned back in his chair. Gail cleared her throat.

    “I wanted to thank you, Dale,” she said. “The gifts you brought earlier today - they were a real hit.”

    “It's nothing, Mrs. Green,” he said.

    “I know how you feel about the whole holiday spirit thing, so it means a lot that you decided to help out the rest of us anyway,” she continued.

    “About that...” he started. She looked at him curiously. “I don't think I believe it anymore. It's important that we celebrate while we can.”

    She nodded.

    “And Mrs. Green?” he asked. She raised her eyebrows. “I know you've been sick lately, and if there's anything I can do, you know, any way I can help-”

    She shook her head, chuckling softly. “Dale, that's sweet of you, but you know there isn't anything you can do about it.”

    He frowned. “There has to be something,” he said.

    “There is. Stop worrying about it,” she said. “I'm not. I'm just trying to enjoy all of this while I can. I've got my boys here with me, and even Mary, who I never would have expected to have over last Christmas,” she laughed. “And of course, our friends. They make it all bearable, don't they?” she asked.

    He nodded.

    She looked at him again, her eyebrows knit together. “I still don't know why you've made this miraculous turn around. It's like you changed your mind over night. Is there something in the eggnog?”

    “Probably,” he said with a short laugh. “But, I guess you could say, I've re-evaluated things. I didn't like the way things were going.”

    “Good for you, honey,” she said. “I'm proud of you.”

    He sighed deeply. He felt very full, of more than just dessert. “Thanks,” he said.
           
    Mary stuck her head in from the kitchen. “Eric wants to know if the surprise is ready. He's really excited,” she said, whispering the last part.
           
    “I'll check,” said Dale, rolling his eyes. He got up and went to the door to the living room, opening it a crack. Jake was sitting on the couch, playing with the remote. Heather was crouched in front of the television, fiddling with the v.c.r. They weren't talking about the task at hand, however.
       
    “...and you know, even though I already knew he was dead before I got to New Bern, it was really weird that he wasn't there. I kept thinking, 'I'll go over to Dad's and decorate the tree.' It was worse than our first Christmas without Mom,” Heather was saying.
       
    “The first is the worst, right?” asked Jake. Heather nodded.
       
    “I just keep thinking about how many holidays I missed, when he was still around. I had the chance, and I-”
     
    Dale shut the door before he heard any more of what Jake was saying. “It'll be a minute,” he told Mary and Gail.
   
    “Aw,” he could hear Eric saying from the doorway.
   
    “Actually, Eric, can I ask you to help with part of the surprise?” asked Dale. He followed him into the kitchen and whispered what he needed. Eric agreed wholeheartedly.
 
    A few minutes later, Dale, Eric, Mary and Gail were sitting around the table, trading stories about Christmases long past, when Jake opened the door. “It's ready,” he said. He took his mom's arm and led her into the living room.

    Heather was beaming as Gail was offered a seat on the couch. Eric went to the shelf and retrieved a video. “What are we all looking at?” asked Gail.

    “The new v.c.r.,” said Jake. “It works, by the way.”

     Gail looked from Jake, to Heather, to Dale, a grin spreading across her face. “This is the gift you brought me?” she asked Dale.

    He nodded. He looked over at Eric. Eric went up and slid the video into the machine. Jake pressed play on the remote. The grainy picture of a homemade video came up on the screen. Dale recognized the front steps of town hall. He looked around at the others in the room. One by one, they were realizing what they were watching. Gail breathed in sharply. Jake sat beside her on the couch, and Eric sat on her other side. Mary perched cautiously on the couch arm.

    From the screen, they could hear a voice speaking. “Citizens of Jericho, I present to you your new mayor - Johnston Green!”

    A much younger Johnston stepped into view, nodding to the crowd and raising his hand to wave. “Thank you. I'd just like to say that of all the places I've been, and all the people I've met, nothing has made me prouder or happier than to be able to stand here today...”

    The occupants of the room watched quietly as Johnston made his inaugural speech. The camera panned over to a beaming Gail Green, standing with her sons. Jake looked a little annoyed to be wearing a tie, but was clapping at his father's speech. Eric was watching in awe. Johnston's father stood behind Eric, looking extremely pleased.

    “I was so afraid Jake was going to insist on wearing jeans,” said Gail. Everyone giggled softly.

    When the speech was over, there was some footage of the crowd, at what seemed to be a reception. Gracie Leigh waved at the camera, covering her mouth because she was eating a finger sandwich. Jake could be seen running by, with a sandy haired boy. Jake tapped Heather on the shoulder, as she was sitting on the floor in front of the couch. “Stanley,” he whispered.

    Now, the camera came up to Johnston and Gail, who were busy greeting well wishers.

    “Mayor Green!” came a voice, presumably the cameraman. “Give us a quote!”

    Johnston feigned exasperation. “Come on, Bernie. Don't you have enough footage?”

    “I promised Gail I'd capture the whole occasion,” the voice said. In the video, Gail smiled apologetically, but then pushed him closer to the camera.

    “Come on, we'll play this when we're old and our grandchildren can see what you were like when you first took office,” she teased him.
       
    “Alright, alright,” he said. He looked into the camera. “I'd like to thank everyone who helped me along the way. I have a lot of hope for this place, and for these people, and I'm sure I won't be disappointed. This is the beginning of a what I hope will be many good years.”
       
    He paused, took a sip from the cup of root beer he was holding, and spoke again. “I'd like to thank my wife too, for everything she's done for me, and everything she puts up with. I couldn't do it without her. And I'd like to thank my sons for agreeing to share their dad with the whole town. And of course, my father, for teaching me how to be a leader. So, thank you guys. I love you.”
 
    He held up his glass to the camera. “And to the grandchildren watching this many years from now - I hope you're giving your dads as much trouble as they gave me.”

    With a chuckle, he turned to talk to more of the townspeople. Bernie apparently moved on to taping the trays of vegetables and dip.

   The Green family was still watching silently, all with teary eyes.

    Even Mary and Heather looked as though they might cry, and Dale felt his own throat tightening. He also felt certain that he had brought the right gift.

    Finally, Gail turned towards him, saying, “Thank you, Dale.” She gave him a small smile through her tears.

    The others were all looking at him now, emotion frozen on their faces. He shrugged. “I used to think that it was better not to think about the people you miss, but I recently got the chance to look back, and now I think maybe it's better to remember. It hurts, but it makes you feel better too. Stronger, I guess.”

    They were all still watching him, faces showing their reactions to the scene. Jake nodded then, as if to agree with and thank Dale all at once. Dale nodded his head back.

    Jake stood up then. “Well, that's about all the memories I can take for now,” he said. He reached down for Heather's hand and helped pull her to her feet. “Should we get ready to go?”
   
    “We should,” she said, grinning. “Blankets?”
     
    They left, as they had before, and Dale went to stand by the door. Any moment now, the next piece of the puzzle would fall into place, and this part was the part most likely to go horribly wrong.
     
    Eric was gathering a handful of other videos, laying them out on the coffee table for Gail to choose from. “Are you sure you'll be alright staying here?” he asked.
   
    Dale glanced out the window again. He could see a figure coming closer, reaching the lawn and coming up to the porch. He slipped over to the door and opened it.

    “Miss Sullivan!” he said. “Glad you could make it.”

    She nodded, and looked apprehensively into the house. This would be the tricky part.

    “Come on in,” he said.

    She followed him into the living room, where Gail, Eric, and Mary exclaimed things like “Emily!”, “What a surprise!”, and “Happy Christmas Night!”

    “What brings you out here, sweetie?” asked Gail.

    “Oh, I heard a rumour you guys had a v.c.r. I was wondering if you might want to watch a classic.” She held up a copy of The Santa Clause.

    “Well, the rumours are true,” said Gail, gesturing dramatically towards the t.v., which was now playing a video of a teenage Eric performing in West Side Story.

    “Oh, I remember this!” Emily laughed. She came over and put her video on the coffee table.

    “Would you like some apple crumble?” asked Gail.

    “That would be great,” said Emily. Gail started to get up from the couch, putting a hand over her mouth to suppress a cough.

    “How about I go get some myself?” suggested Emily.

    “Well, you know where everything is,” said Gail.

    She gave Dale a meaningful glance as Emily went into the kitchen. He nodded to show her he understood what he had to do next. He dashed down the hall to where he knew the closet of blankets was located. Jake and Heather were both leaning against the wall, joking about something. Dale cleared his throat loudly.

    “Miss Sullivan's here,” he said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. “She, uh, was going to spend her night all alone so I thought maybe she could hang out with Mrs. Green. She's got this movie she really wanted to watch.”

    “Of course,” said Jake, looking away.

    Heather looked troubled. “Poor Em,” she said.
 
    “Don't worry. I think she'll be okay,” he said, knowing it wouldn't really assuage Heather's guilt.

    “Do you think...can I go say hi?” she asked timidly.

    Dale shrugged. Why did people keep expecting him to know? He noticed then that she was looking at Jake.

    “Yeah, you go,” said Jake. “I'll get these things ready.” He motioned at the blankets.

    Heather went back down the hall, and Dale watched Jake watch her go, with amusement.

    “Do you want help?” asked Dale.

    Jake looked at him suddenly, like he had forgotten he was there, and said distractedly, “I'm okay, thanks.”
         
    They walked down the hallway slowly, and Jake waited a moment near the door to the living room. Dale took the lead, peering around the corner. Heather was hugging Emily.
         
    “Have a good night,” she was saying. “You too,” Emily said. With a quick goodbye to Gail, Heather hurried out the front door.
         
    Eric and Mary were already outside too, so Dale turned to Jake. “I think they're ready to go,” he whispered. He walked into the room, and Jake followed.
   
    “Hi Em,” Jake said. “Hi,” she said, gazing at him quietly.

    “You guys going to be okay?” he asked, looking from his mom to her.

    “We're going to be fine, Jake,” said Emily, rolling her eyes. “Go on, get out of here.” She smiled quickly to show she meant it in the nicest way.

    “Have fun Jake,” said Gail, reaching up to kiss him.

    “You too,” he said. He went over to the doorway. “I thought you were coming too,” he said to Dale.

    “Nah, I don't think you'll have room,” he said. Jake was eyeing him suspiciously. “I mean, you know, there's four of you and I have my own ride I should probably wait for.” He remembered the sleigh was supposed to be a secret.
         
    “Okay. See you there,” said Jake, and with that, he went outside.
       
    “Dale,” Gail waved him over to the couch. “Thank you,” she said, standing up and giving him a hug.
         
    “You're welcome,” he said. He smiled at Emily, who nodded her appreciation. He called one last “Merry Christmas” at them as he went out the door.
       
    He could see the four adults shrinking as they walked farther away. He stood, breathing in the cold, smoky air. He went to wait at the side of the road for his ride.
       
    Not very much later, the truck with Bonnie's cousins pulled up. They had piled the back with blankets. He went up front to ask them to make a few additional stops. They agreed, and soon, they were driving towards the old Thompson place. Allison must have been waiting near the door, because she came outside as they pulled up.

    “Hey,” said Dale, lifting the blankets in the back of the truck. “Hey,” she said back.

    It was really cold riding in the back, and they didn't speak much as they drove to the next destination. Dale worried the whole time, hoping this part of his plan would work as well as the last part. Just like the spirit had said, he had a harder time seeing things closer to his heart than messing around in other people's lives.

    They stopped outside the Carmichaels' house, and Allison prepared to jump down. She turned back to Dale. “You know, she doesn't really know me well,” she said. “What if she doesn't want to come?”

    He shrugged. “At least we'll have tried. But she might agree to go if you ask. I don't think she will if I do. She needs a friend. If you don't want to, it's okay...”

    “No, I'll do it,” said Allison, climbing out of the truck.

    Dale watched as Allison knocked on the door, and spoke briefly to Mrs. Carmichael. Mrs. Carmichael vanished for a moment, and Skylar appeared in the doorway. They talked back and forth for a few minutes, and Skylar looked over at him with a guarded expression. Allison talked to her some more, and she listened, interjecting at intervals. Finally, she went back inside the house. Dale sighed, but Allison smiled over at him and nodded. In a few moments, Skylar was back, wearing a coat, scarf, hat, and mittens.
   
    They approached the truck and climbed aboard. Skylar sat on the other side of Allison, and mouthed a quiet “hello” to Dale. He tried to keep from looking too pleased. He didn't want her to think he was trying to win her back. He just wanted her to have a good evening.

    When they arrived at the Richmonds' house, He could see the sleigh tracks in the snow. Allison and Skylar, and the cousins, had missed the sleigh's grand entrance. Oh well, he thought. They'd probably see a lot of it this winter, as long as there were snowy days. Everyone got out of the truck, and walked across the snow to the house. Bonnie's cousins opened the door and let themselves in, so Dale, Allison, and Skylar followed.

    The scene was as warm and cheery as it had been, but once again, Dale felt it was much more real, now that he was a part of it. He put his coat in the bedroom and followed the others into the living room, where they were pulled into hugs and handshakes from Stanley and Bonnie. Mimi quickly brought them cups of eggnog, and Dale accepted his, walking away quickly before he would have to take a sip in front of her.

    Skylar looked shy for once, but she allowed Bonnie to lead her to a seat near the fireplace. Dale noticed Jake and Heather had occupied an armchair, sitting side-by-side but squashed in so they'd both fit. Eric and Mary had squeezed onto a couch with several others, and Dale found this time, he and his travelling companions were the ones without seats. He leaned against the arm of Mimi's chair, and motioned to Allison that she could take the arm of the couch. She held a mug of cider in her hand, and passed the bowl of popcorn to him.

    “Having fun yet?” he asked.

    “Yeah, actually,” she said, looking around.

     “Just wait 'til the games start,” he said. He leaned closer. “If we play blind man's bluff, try to catch her.” He motioned over his shoulder at Mimi. “She's wearing shoes that are hard to run in.”

    Allison giggled. “I'll keep it in mind,” she said. “Any other pointers?”

    For a while, Dale explained to Allison the parlour game strengths and weaknesses of the various party guests. After Stanley gave a very silly toast, mentioning just about everyone in the room, Bonnie hurriedly got the games started. Dale just shrugged at Allison when Stanley announced that they would play blind man's bluff first.

    Dale bit his lip to keep from laughing as they spread out. Memories of the first time he'd seen this game were still fresh in his mind. As before, Bonnie went first. She caught James, who crashed into a wall again. The game went on much as it had before, but this time, Allison guessed Eric on her first try.

    Dale ran around the room with the rest of them, trying to avoid the 'it' person, but he couldn't stop turning to watch each development, laughing as Mimi snarled at Stanley's teasing, laughing as Bonnie and Mimi trapped Stanley, and as Stanley went after Jake. He considered, briefly, doing something about the crash he remembered, as he had stopped Mimi from falling on the ice, but decided against it. Even though he'd been using his new knowledge to arrange a few things around town today, he'd have to let other people pick themselves up most of the time.

    This time, when Jake and Heather hit the floor, they were laughing before everyone else. The game went on, and Dale was half-surprised when Will caught him. He accepted the blindfold, and stretched out his arms, running towards the shrieks and laughs ahead. He bumped into furniture several times, and eventually, he grabbed someone. They were standing still. He knew it was her when he felt her hair.

     “Skylar,” he said quietly. He pulled off the blindfold. Everyone else was still laughing, but she was dead serious. Her mouth was a thin line and she stared straight ahead. Dale stepped aside awkwardly, but after a moment, Skylar took the blindfold, which he'd passed to Will, and she joined in the game again.

    He stood by the fireplace, watching as she raced after the fleeing people, laughing as she picked up speed. She turned into the hallway, and kept running until she collided with someone, or rather, two someones, who jumped apart.

    “Jake and Heather, play along or get out of the way!” yelled Stanley. “Or get a room!”

    “Stanley!” scolded Mimi, flashing an apologetic look at Heather, who was turning red. Jake leaned down and whispered something in her ear, and she grinned. The two of them raced after Stanley, linking their arms in front of him and pushing him towards Skylar, who shouted “Stanley!”

   “Aw, two times in one night. You're all cheaters!” he said, taking the blindfold and running over-dramatically in the opposite direction.

    Dale laughed to himself, and walked over to the table, where Bonnie was pouring more drinks.

    “Great party,” he said to her.

   “Thanks,” she said, offering him a mug. “Cider?” he asked. She nodded. He took a sip. It was hot and spicy, but delicious. He closed his eyes. He wanted to hold on to this, more than any of the moments he'd visited with any of the spirits. It was beautiful, and imperfect, and could go horribly wrong at any moment, but it was real.

    The rest of the evening was just the same. They played twenty questions (though nobody made fun of Dale this time), they played charades, and they talked a lot.

     Later in the evening, Sean shouted out “Snowball fight!” and dashed out the door, with most of the younger party guests, and Stanley in the middle of the group. The elder guests took their chance to sit in the best seats near the fire, and tell stories. Dale stayed inside, unable to resist playing a fly on the wall a little while longer since he'd never seen this part of the party. He listened to the full version of Jake's present-hiding story, and Mimi talked about her college roommate's vicious cat that she'd once agreed to pet-sit over the holidays. After a while, they slowly stopped talking, and just sat quietly in the warm room. Dale noticed the fire getting low, and went up to put another log on it. Skylar was sitting on a stool near the fireplace. She looked as though she were falling asleep.

    “Thank you,” she said quietly as he stood up. He looked at her, vaguely surprised. “Thanks for inviting me. I know it was your idea,” she said.

    He shrugged. “I thought you might have fun, hanging out with some friends.”

    She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. “I'm not sure everyone here thinks of me as their friend.”

    “So what?” he asked. “You've had fun, right?” She nodded. “You can be friends with anyone you want. Anyone here would be lucky to be your friend. And I'm sure they will.”

    “I hope so,” she said quietly. “I was starting to think stuff like this was not going to happen ever again.”

    He shook his head. “There will be more times like these. As long as we keep making things like this happen.”

    With that, he stood up. “It's really quiet in here. Want to join in that snow fight?”
 
    She thought for a moment. “Okay.”
   
    They stepped outside a minute later, and Skylar ran over to Allison and Bonnie, who were frantically making snowballs behind Stanley's truck.
     
    He looked up at the sky again. It was so black, it was almost blue, and he could see stars twinkling. The winds had died down, and were only whispering through the night now. He almost felt like he could hear jolly, ghostly laughter, but it was probably just coming from one of the party guests playing in the snow.

    Dale stood up and cleared his throat. Slowly, the people around the room grew silent and looked up at him.

    “Since our little get-together's winding down, I just wanted to thank you guys for coming, and for a really great year. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday and I'll see you the day after tomorrow. Be careful out there, and have a great night!” he said.

    Several people called out “Thanks, Dale!” and some clapped. He tried to look modest, but grinned.

    He went around the room, wishing several people a happy holiday, and then he stepped over to the bar, where Mary Bailey was seated.

    “We should be cleared out of here soon. A couple of the guys offered to help clean up. Do you mind if I head out before they're done?” he asked.

    “Yeah, that's fine,” she said.

    “And I just wanted to thank you again. It was so much better having the dinner in here instead of the store. I hope it didn't inconvenience you too much.”

    “Well, you're welcome,” she said. “And I don't mind. I'm not even doing anything here. If I was over at the house, I'm sure they'd put me to work.”

    He chuckled. “Have a good dinner yourself. Say 'hi' to everyone for me.”

    “Are we going to see you at the Richmonds’?” she asked.

    “Yeah. I'm going over now, actually. I promised I'd help set up this year.”

    “I'll see you later, then,” she said.

    He waved, and after saying goodbye to his employees, he walked out the front door and into the street.
       
    He waved to a few people as he walked along the street, and stopped to talk with the Taylors, who were taking a walk through the snow. When he reached the store, Bonnie was already waiting out front with the truck. 
       
    “I'll get the stuff!” he said. He dashed into the store, and came out again with a cardboard box. They rode along quietly, as Bonnie had to focus on driving through the snow.
     
    When they reached the farmhouse, he could see Stanley outside, shoveling a pathway to the house.
   
    “Stanley. Merry Christmas!” said Dale, coming up to shake his hand. “Working hard, I see.”
     
    “I've been told by Eric that if his sister-in-law slips on the ice, he'll sue me,” said Stanley.
     
    Dylan Morgan came to the door. “Dale! Glad you could come.” He came to shake Dale's hand too. “I've been sent out here to help you, Stanley,” he announced.
   
    Dale and Bonnie went past them and inside the house. “Looks like Stanley likes him,” Dale said.
   
    “Stanley loves him,” she said. “He thinks he's an improvement on Sean.”

    They reached the living room. The couches and chairs had been pushed aside, leaving a big space in the centre. Dale placed his box in the middle of the floor and they opened it. It was full of decorations that had been hanging in his store for the past week.
     
    “Any particular way you want to do this?” he asked.

    “No, let's go crazy,” she said. They started to string the garlands around the room. He could hear Mimi in the next room, humming a Christmas carol, punctuated by expletives every now and then.

    “Is everything okay in there?” Dale asked Bonnie, looking towards the kitchen.

    “Yeah, she just gets like that when she's trying to cook,” said Bonnie.
         
    Dale recognized a familiar smell in the air. His favourite Yuletide drink. He groaned.
       
    He lost track of the time as they hung up the various festive decorations he'd found in the back room several years ago. He had kept them in the same box, labeled “Holidays” in Gracie's writing, ever since.
     
    Dylan came in with extra firewood, and admired their decorating. They heard crying a minute later, and Dylan tapped Bonnie lightly on the arm. “Your nephew's awake,” he said. “Do you want me to get him?”

    Bonnie shook her head and disappeared, appearing a few minutes later with a dark haired baby in her arms. She swung him up in the air so he could see the shining decorations.

    Mimi came into the room soon after. “Oh, thanks Bonnie,” she said and signed. She looked a little worn out.

    “The eggnog smells good,” said Dale, with the most convincing look of anticipation he could muster.
       
    “Thanks, Dale!” she said with an overly grateful expression.
       
    Meanwhile, they could hear voices coming from outside. Stanley was coming through the door, swinging a little boy in his arms. The boy was shrieking with laughter. Eric and Mary followed, carrying presents in their arms.

    “Johnny's old clothes, and some presents from our place,” Eric said, holding up a bundle. Mimi came and accepted it, giving hugs to everyone who didn't have their arms full. Dale came forward too, to shake hands with Eric and greet Mary again, though he'd seen her a few hours earlier.

    Next, Heather and Gail stepped through the door, smiling at the brightly decorated room.

    “Heather, you look...” Dale started.

    “Enormous?” she asked.

    “Uh, I was going to say beautiful, but what you said is true too,” he said, and she laughed.

    “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Green,” he said, turning to Gail and giving her a hug.

    “Merry Christmas, Dale,” she said.

    “Where's Jake?” he asked, looking around.

    “Putting away the horses,” she answered. “Now, let me see that beautiful boy,” she said, reaching for the baby in Bonnie's arms.

    Stanley had put down the other little boy, who ran up to Dale. “Hi Dale!” he shouted.
     
    “Hi Johnny. Was Santa good to you?”
     
    “He brought me candy. And a bubble wand,” said Johnny.

    “Awesome!” said Dale, as Eric flashed him a grateful smile.

    Jake came in, brushing snow off of his clothes. “Who threw a snowball at me when I was taking the blankets out of the sleigh? I know it was one of you guys.”

    “I didn't see anything,” said Gail with a sly smile. “Me neither,” said Heather, though both women glanced quickly at Eric.

    “Dale. Good to see you,” said Jake, giving him a handshake and a hug. He went on to hug Mimi and Bonnie. Slowly, everyone migrated over to the couches and chairs.

    Stanley took his son in his arms and settled down in an armchair. “How was the dinner, Dale?”

    “Good,” he answered. “I think everyone had fun. Art and Lucy announced they're getting engaged.”

    “Oh my God!” said Mimi.

    “I know, you wouldn't expect it, but they seem happy,” said Dale. “How was the mayor's reception?”

    “It was okay,” said Jake, settling down beside Heather. “A lot of emotional speeches though. You know, about how grateful we all are to be safe and happy, and how much we should look forward to the future now.”
         
    “And how proud we should be of all the courageous people who live here,” chimed in Heather, flashing teasing eyes at Jake. “It was a little much.”

    “You two,” said Gail, smiling but shaking her head. “I thought it was very appropriate. It's the first year we really could talk about all those things, now that the town's ours again.”

    “For now,” said Jake darkly. Stanley leaned over and punched Jake. “Always a downer, Jake. It's Christmas, you're about to become a father, and we get to spend the holiday celebrating instead of holding covert meetings.”

    “Yeah, you're right Stanley,” said Jake grudgingly, kissing Heather on the temple.

    “Oh, here's a little present for you,” said Mimi, tossing a bundle over to them. “As soon as Clark gets bigger, there'll be more.”

    Heather reached inside and held up a little blue sweater. “Finally, back to its original owner." She grinned at Jake, who rolled his eyes, but smiled back. "Thanks, guys,” she said.

    “But, I'm still going to knit you something pink,” Mimi added.

    “We don't know about that, Mimi,” said Jake.

    “Come on, you're having a daughter. She's going to marry my son,” said Stanley.

    Gail laughed at Jake's slightly horrified face. “No arranged marriages before my granddaughter is born.”

    “Or after,” said Jake.

    “But if he stays this good looking, she'd be pretty lucky,” said Heather, brushing her finger over baby Clark's hand.

    “So you really think it's a granddaughter?” Stanley asked Gail.

    Dale glanced across the older adults to Bonnie and Dylan. They shared a bored look.
       
    He stood up slowly and carefully snuck away. They followed him. The others didn't notice, as they were busy discussing Gail's previous predictions that Johnny and Clark would be boys.
     
    They went and sat on the front porch, breathing sighs of relief.
     
    “I love hanging out with your family and the Greens, but lately all they do is talk about babies,” said  Dale.
   
    Bonnie shrugged. “Better then when they used to only talk about strategies or the army I guess.”
   
    Dylan laced his fingers through Bonnie's. Dale was used to being around them now, but still felt slightly awkward.

    “So, is Sean coming tonight?” he asked. Bonnie nodded.

    “He'd never miss the annual snowball fight,” she said. “He wants to get Mimi back for last year.”

    He looked across the field. He could see a truck in the distance. “I think your cousins are coming,” he said.   

    She stood up. “They're supposed to be bringing a bunch of people,” she said.
   
    Dale and Dylan stood too. When the truck finally pulled up, they ran over to meet the many people getting out of the cab and climbing down from the back. Skylar gave Dale a hug before following James into the house. Sean bounded excitedly towards the porch, followed by a few other friends from town. Allison Hawkins was the last to climb down from the back, and Dale helped her carry the blankets towards the house.

    “So, were you at the mayor's reception today?” he asked her. He knew Gray had wanted some of the leaders of the resistance and their family members to be there. She nodded.

    “They dedicated a special plaque on the wall for my dad,” she said.

    “How are you feeling?” he asked.

    She shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” They walked into the house, past the room of guests and towards the bedroom where the coats and blankets were piled.

    “I've heard it's hardest the first year,” he said.

    She nodded. “He used to go away and we wouldn't hear from him forever. It's so weird that it's really forever now.”

    He glanced around. No one was nearby. “You don't know that for sure, though, right?”

    “Even so,” she said. “I keep expecting him to come home, like everyone else did. That's kind of stupid, huh?”

    “No,” he said, staring her in the eyes. There was an intense silence, and he looked away while she took a moment to regain her composure. “How did you do it?” she asked.

    “What?” he asked.

    She smiled. “You know, figure out how to do this by yourself.”

    “Who said I do it all by myself?” he asked with raised eyebrows. He smiled then, saying, “You’re not all by yourself either.”
 
    He could hear a bunch of voices in the other room singing the opening lines to "The Twelve Days of Christmas".

    “Should we go in?” he asked.

    She made an expression of mock horror, but then giggled. “I guess we should.”

    They went into the living room, which seemed more full than Dale had ever seen it. More guests had arrived in the time he'd been talking with Allison, including Bill, Jessica Williams, and Tom that worked at Dale's store. The only places available were on the floor, so Dale took a seat in front of the couch, narrowly avoiding sitting on Eric's foot. Allison sat nearby, avoiding Clark's outstretched hands as Mimi bounced him on her lap. Stanley was leading a bunch of people singing at the top of their lungs, Bonnie and her cousins were playing twenty questions, and Heather was politely refusing eggnog, though Mimi insisted it was non-alcoholic this year.

    Through all the noise, Dale noticed a truck approaching in the distance. He stood up to see who it was, and as he did, so did several other people.

    “Emily's coming!” yelled Eric. “And there's someone else in the truck!”

    About half the party guests ran up to the windows, and then out onto the porch to greet her and the mystery guest.

    “Who is it?” asked Stanley. “Can anybody see?”

    Dale shielded his eyes. “It's Dave,” he said. “One of the guys from my crew.”

    “I didn't know she was bringing a friend,” said Stanley. “Did anyone else know?”

    He turned quickly to Heather. “I was sworn to secrecy,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender.

    As Emily pulled the truck up the driveway, almost everyone streamed out the door, milling around on the porch and the walkway, swarming her as she made her way to the house. Dale laughed as he watched the excited party guests. It was like being invited to a crazy family reunion.

    “Come on everyone! Let's go back inside before we freeze!” called Gail. Everyone slowly made their way back up the steps and into the house. Dale waited until the porch had cleared, and he leaned against the porch railing, looking out across the field of snow, shining in the moonlight. It was like a tradition now, for him to take one quiet moment to look out at this view that he had first seen that strange night years ago. Though he had often doubted and wondered what had really happened to him, he didn't regret seeing, hearing, and knowing all the things he had known since that night.

    “Dale!” It was Skylar, standing in the doorway. “They're going to start blind man's bluff!”

    With one last glance at the starry Christmas sky, he turned and hurried in to the house.