God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen – If You Can
by Nelson

 
 
 
Zach trudged into the quiet house on lead-filled feet, practically oblivious to Ben and Vic's SUV backing out of their driveway as he closed the front door. 
 
It was the day after Thanksgiving, otherwise known as Black Friday, and black it was.  Pitch, noir, negro, charcoal, ebony.  Black as night.  It was going to get darker, too, so dark a body wouldn't have the luxury of seeing in front of it. 
 
Had it been worth it? Zach was initially inclined to go with a hearty 'no', even as he tossed the winner's stash onto the sofa.  At least he had won the war, so there was that, even if it meant he bore defensive wounds from the bloody battle.  He gently pressed his fingers to the orbital bone just beneath his left eye and hissed, even from a slight feather touch.  That was definitely going to leave a mark, and just in time for the upcoming holiday festivities.  It seemed like he and Nelson had a party or some sort of gathering every weekend until the 25th, except for Thanksgiving weekend. Nelson had shut the door on any plans there, he thought bitterly.    
 
Zach groaned with the pounding in his head, which still ached even though it had settled to a dull throb.  He had a seriously bad feeling that he was going to have more body parts throbbing than his head not to mention a few additional defensive wounds below the waist after Nelson got home. 
 
Even though he shouldn't be in trouble.  No, this was all Nelson's fault, after all.  He didn't *have* to work the weekend shift at the hospital; at the very least, not Black Friday.  Just because one of his one of his long-time patients was rushed there after Thanksgiving dinner didn't mean he had to be there the whole day or even the entire weekend. 
 
"But why do you have to work the *whole* weekend?" Zach had protested.
 
Nelson pulled his coat on Thanksgiving evening and kissed the pouting lips of his complaining partner.  "Babe, I need to go.  She's 82 years old and all alone."
 
Zach grabbed Nelson's coat sleeve before he could get away.  "I'm not talking about tonight; I'm talking about tomorrow, Saturday and Sunday."
 
"I'd be going by there every day to check in on her anyway so I might as well let someone else have the weekend off." 
 
"But what about Black Friday?!" Zach demanded.  "The weekend technically doesn't start until Saturday!"
 
"Zach, you say that like we go out on Black Friday every year.  We hardly ever actually go to the early bird deals," he commented with his hands on his hips.  "We usually end up kicking ourselves every time we try it."
 
"I *need* to go tomorrow, though.  Target has the Lego Star Destroyer on sale for $59!"
 
Nelson asked with a twinkle in his eye, "Aren't you a little old for Legos?"
 
Zach gave him a flat stare. "You're not funny.  I wanted to get that for Christian.  It's normally $99, so it's almost half price."
 
"They probably only have 10 of them, anyway," Nelson dismissed the notion as he fished his keys from the pit of his pants pocket.  "People will be losing their minds and fighting over them and any of the other stuff they have on sale for half price."
 
"I only need one and that won't require a fight; as long as no one takes the last one so I can have it."
 
"All right," Nelson smiled and tipped Zach's head up for another kiss.  "See if you can get Ben to go with you tomorrow if you need company.  I just have to go check in on Mrs. Hamilton and I'll be back soon."
 
"Why couldn't you do that the rest of the weekend?  Just pop in and check on her and then come back? You could go after we shop tomorrow."
 
"I'm done arguing about this, Zach.  You know I have to take a holiday weekend every few years, so this way, I'm watching over my patient and getting it over with.  End of discussion."
 
Zach's brow furrowed in a frown.  He was not happy, not at all.  Sometimes it really sucked being married to a doctor.  He knew how it had to be but that didn't mean he had to like it.  He also didn't like Nelson's "that's final" tone because it had a definitely threatening ring to it.  He decided it would be in his best interest if he held his tongue, exhibiting a level of wisdom comparable to that of the men who followed the star to Bethlehem. 
 
If only his wisdom hadn't come in a fleeting glance; he needed a longing stare of it.  Zach's pinch of wisdom had winked out like the light of the North Star by the wee hours of the morning.  In fact, there wasn't an ounce of it in sight at 4:30 AM when he got up to go to shopping at Target.  It must have been too early for wisdom to get out of bed. 
 
If only he could turn back time and just stay in bed himself!  Looking back, he'd rather pay full price for the Lego set, if he were given the option, or not get the damn thing at all.  He went to the fridge for something to quell the swelling he could feel growing around his eye, and settled on some frozen vegetables.  He rummaged through the freezer and found a bag of peas that should do the trick, and he cocooned them in a dishtowel to somewhat protect his skin while still letting the cold through to the bruising. 
 
He was almost at the entrance to the kitchen when Cujo yipped at the back door, having heard Zach milling about inside.  Zach changed course and opened the door, and a little ball of fur bounced in, immediately jumping up against Zach's leg. Zach melted a little with the warm welcome that was cheerful enough to chase away a few of the dark clouds still lingering from his Black Friday experience. 
 
"Hey, there, boy.  Did you miss me? Huh?" 
 
Zach stooped down and cupped the dog's face in his hands, scratching him behind the ears, and Cujo looked at him with the love and affection only a faithful dog can give.  Zach's heart gave a little jump of emotion.  "You're a pretty good dog, Cujo, you know it?  It's been nice knowing you.  You've been a good friend to me."
 
He finally let the dog go and pressed the bag of peas against his cheek, grimacing with the touch once again.  He couldn't believe it was only ten in the morning.  It felt as if he and Ben had put in a full day at least, even though the day was nowhere near over. He returned to the sofa and moved the bag out of the way so he could lie down; Nelson had only remanded him to the house.  He didn't say no napping was allowed.  Zach stretched out on the sofa and his body groaned in protest as bruised flesh resented the activity.
 
"Merry Christmas, my ass," Zach griped.  "What a crappy way to start the holiday season, Cujo.  Bah humbug at the very least."
 
Cujo jumped up on the couch and paced in a circle until he was certain the location next to Zach's leg was good and broken in before he curled up next to his lord and master.  Zach tried to shut out the ugly images of the memories from the morning, clearing his mind as best he could so he could take a nap.
 
A heavy jangling sound dragged Zach out of the depths of sleep and he barely parted his eye lids before he found the source.  Zach's blurred vision cleared and he caught sight of a pair of men's dress slacks at his side, the legs draped in heavy chains.  Cujo spotted the same thing Zach did, and he was instantly standing at attention, his fur bristling as a low growl rumbled in his throat. 
 
Zach was frozen in fear, knowing an intruder was front and center in his home, but the muscles in his eyes still worked, and they slowly trailed upward.  The terror gripping his heart turned loose as soon as he looked into the face of the man standing beside him.  He bolted upright when he realized he knew the intruder. 
 
"Grampy!  You gave me a freaking heart attack…" Zach paused and looked sideways at a man he hadn't seen for seven years.  "Wait a second.  You're dead."
 
The specter held out his arms as he looked himself up and down.  He shrugged his shoulders and dusted off the front of his see-through plaid shirt.  "Yeah, I guess I am."
 
Zach stared at, as well as through, the transparent houseguest.  "There's no such thing as ghosts."
 
"Really?  Huh. Don't I seem real to you?"
 
"A real illusion.  Why would I think you're really my grampy?" Zach asked with eyes narrowed suspiciously.
 
"You don't believe in ghosts or in me, do you?" the man asked.
 
"Uh, no." Zach said.  "You've been gone for seven years."
 
"Ah, but my spirit hasn't," he said with a forefinger raised.
 
Zach crossed his arms and glared at the being, ready to pinch either it or himself.  "So where have you been then?"
 
"Around," the man replied conversationally. His chains clattered as he moved across the room then he took a seat in the oversized armchair in the corner. 
 
"Just HANG-ing out, huh?" Zach spat unconvinced.
 
"It's hard to explain and I don't have time to go into it in detail," the spirit said, crossing his legs.  "How can I prove to you that I'm really your grampy? I need you to believe so you'll listen to me."
 
"I have no idea.  It won't be easy, because right now, I'm guessing I ate something that didn't agree with me, and that's why I'm seeing things," Zach remarked skeptically.
 
"Do I look like a ribeye to you?" the man asked.  "Besides, you've hardly eaten anything today. They only feed you bread and water in the joint when you're just there for a few hours."
 
Now, that sounded like his grampy.  Zach looked the man over, shocked that he wasn't afraid, and equally surprised that the man knew something about what had happened that day, even if he didn't get it completely right.   
 
"I did not go to jail.  Besides, you're one to talk. You're the one in chains," he commented with a nod toward the links of iron cinched about his grandfather's waist.
 
The ghost looked down at the chains. "Oh, yeah," he said, chewing his lower lip.  "That's what I'm here to talk to you about.  These are the chains of my life, the chains I built myself every time I got into something by not thinking. By being impulsive and careless, just like you.  We are so much alike."
 
"Ooo-k," Zach said hesitantly. "Except you can't see through me."
 
"True, but other than that…we're a lot alike even down to sharing our middle names," the old man said.  "I learned to pay attention after plenty of mistakes and years of your grandmother nagging at me to slow down and think, but clearly I didn't learn soon enough.  I don't want you to wait too long to get the same message and be saddled with chains like me."
 
"But that doesn't make any sense. Why the chains? Is that hell or something?"
 
"No, not hell, just annoying.  They're here to tie me down, for all the times I leapt without looking."
 
"So, now you can't leap?"
 
"Huh.  I don't know," the ghost answered absently.  He stood up, bent his knees and jaunted upward, getting only one foot off the floor before he grabbed his back and winced.  "Look, I'm an old man.  Chains or not, dead or not, I'm not doing any leaping anymore."
 
"What's the point of the chains if you can't jump anyway?"
 
The old man held his chin as he thought for a minute, and Zach's brows rose expectantly as he waited.  Finally, the spirit said, "Hell if I know.  It's just how the story goes, I guess."
 
Story?  Right!  A Christmas Carol.  "This is a dream because I watched A Christmas Carol last night. You're not real and neither is this chain crap."
 
"It's very real, Zach.  Look at them."
 
Zach took in the length of the chain.  It was pretty long, at least twelve feet of it.  His own must be at least that long by now if this were for real.  "Can you get rid of it?"
 
"No," his grandfather said sadly.  "I'm destined to drag it around for eternity, able to see people I want to help but unable to help them to avoid the same fate. I was only given a pass to help you because you're family and on track to out-do me in the chain building category."
 
Zach stared through the apparition and could see his grandfather's signature suspenders trailing down his back.  There were no organs in the way, but he guessed they weren't much needed anymore.  His eyes narrowed as he suspiciously took in the once familiar face, and he shook his head in disbelief.  "No.  This is not for real.  You're a figment of my imagination.  A dream."
 
"You have to listen to me, Zach, and pay attention," the spirit warned as his voice rose dramatically.  He bellowed in ghost-like fashion, "There will be three spirits coming to you.  Take heeeeed to what they tell you."
 
Zach couldn't help but laugh.  "'Take heed'?  Are you serious?  Grampy would never say 'take heed'."
 
"No?" he asked, scratching his head.  "What would I say?"
 
"Something like, 'listen to me, boy' or 'look here'.  Not 'take heed'.  No one says that these days, not even old people."
 
The ghost shrugged a shoulder and the chain clanked with the movement.  "You have a point there.  I guess I thought 'take heed' sounded more ghostly.  Seemed like it would be a nice touch."
 
Zach shook his head.  "Nice touch, my ass.  This is a dream because Nelson and I watched A Christmas Carol last night."
 
Grampy smiled.  "Nelson seems like a nice boy.  He's good for you."
 
Boy?  Zach had thought of Nelson in many ways, but never as a boy.  "He's almost 35."
 
"Still, a lot younger than me.  I wish I could have met him."
 
Zach wished Nelson could have met his Grampy, too.  Dream or not, Zach was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of loss accompanied by a flash of anger at having that meeting denied between his lover and grandfather, two of his favorite men in the world. It wasn't fair.  Nelson and Grampy would have really liked one another; sharing stories with Nelson about Grampy was just not the same.
 
He directed his ill feelings toward his uninvited guest.  "You can meet him when he gets home later today.  If you were real, that is, which you aren't.  I'm finished with this dream." 
 
Zach stretched back out on the sofa, turning his back on the specter, and he heard the thing sigh behind him.  "All right, then.  Maybe you'll believe me after the others come."
 
"I'm ignoring you.  Leave whenever you want, but I'd suggest you get out before the boy comes home or he'll call the cops… or whoever you call when a ghost comes to your house uninvited."
 
The grampy being sighed again, and Zach listened intently to his movements as he followed the sound of the rattling chains.  As the jangling neared the windows, Zach stole a glance over his shoulder, unable to resist a peek.
 
"I'll take my leave then.  Take hee—er, mark my words, son.  Three ghosts."
 
With a whoosh, the ghost's image was sucked out through the glass of the closed window and he disappeared out of sight.  Zach jumped up from the couch and darted to window, throwing it open and peering out for some sign that what he had seen was for real.  There was nothing, absolutely nothing. The area outside the window appeared undisturbed and there wasn't a soul in sight.
 
"Stupid dream," he muttered to himself, noting that the snow beneath the window lay smooth and unblemished.  "I must have really taken a hard knock to the head."  His fingers gently caressed the sore spot around his eye.  "Wonder what a concussion feels like, Cujo?"
 
The dog cocked his head sideways and curious eyes stared at Zach.  "I know you aren't supposed to sleep if you have a concussion, but I'm tired."
 
Zach curled back up on the couch, and Cujo only insisted on three turns in a circle before deeming the area fit to lie down on.  Zach shook off the eerie feeling engulfing him, and chose instead the cocoon of the afghan.  He hunkered down, and closed his eyes against any other visions of his Grampy as he slipped into sleep.
 
"Psst!  Hey.  Wake up," a voice beckoned with a poke to Zach's shoulder.
 
Zach rolled over and blinked at the new spirit standing in their living room.  This one wasn't as old as his grampy, but looked to be middle-aged when he left this life.  He appeared a bit on the disheveled side, his dark wavy hair in need of a cut, and his face overdue for a shave.  Zach uttered, "What the hell?"
 
In a deep, booming voice, the ghostly image reared back and said, "I am the Ghost of –"
 
"Let me guess.  Christmas Past?" Zach said in annoyance as he leaned up on one elbow.
 
"Uh.  Yeah, that's me," the ghost replied with a crooked grin.  A wreathe of poinsettias encircled the thing's head and his dusty red coat was long enough to brush the floor. 
 
"No time for a shower?" Zach commented as he noted the dirty fingernails and mussed hair.
 
"Don't really need it in the afterlife," he shrugged.
 
"And the get up?" Zach asked, eying the Christmas garb.
 
The ghost straightened the wreathe atop his head and raised a shoulder.  "It's Christmas.  It's holiday attire."
 
Zach nodded.  "What are you supposed to be? An ancient Santa or something?"
 
"I told you," he replied with a roll of his eyes.  "I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past.  Weren't you listening?"
 
"I heard you.  And I suppose you're going to take me back in time and show me some tearjerker moment from my past Christmases?"
 
"Well, yeah."  He leaned closer to Zach and shielded his mouth conspiratorially with the back of his dirty hand.  "That's how the story goes," he whispered with a wink.
 
Cujo uttered a throaty growl as the ghost got closer to Zach, and Zach absently patted his head to calm him.
 
Zach gave the ghost a flat stare, and threw back the afghan.  "Fine.  I'll indulge you in a trip to the past if it means I can sleep afterward."
 
"Oh.  I can't promise that," the ghost commented as he straightened up.  "There are going to be a couple more ghosts after me, so..."
 
"Oh, yeah.  Right. That's how the story goes," Zach mimicked with a whisper behind his hand followed by a wink of his own.
 
The ghost gave him a thumb's up, and grinned.  "Yeah, you're getting it!  Shall we?" he asked, offering Zach his elbow.
 
Zach shrugged and took the being's arm.  "Why the hell not? The sooner we do this, the quicker this fantasy will be over."
 
The room suddenly whirled and spun, disappearing in a blur of snowy white then began to slow as quickly as it started.  As the world settled back to normal, Zach saw his family's living room from his childhood come into view and his jaw dropped at the sight of a Christmas morning long ago.
 
"Wow," he whispered.  "The house seemed bigger when I was a kid."
 
"Eh. That's what they all say," Christmas Past commented.
 
The dark paneling was lightened somewhat by the multi-colored lights encircling the tree in the corner of the room, and by decorative holiday candles strategically placed here and there by his mom.  The red and gold Christmas ornaments hung scattered throughout the body of the tree, complemented by multiple strands of aluminum icicles dangling on the tips of the branches.  The dancing colors of the tree were drastically contrasted by the neutral tones of the room's furnishings with beige sculptured carpet and dark brown plaid cargo furniture. 
 
Zach's mouth curled up in a smile as he looked at the living room furnishings.  His mother hated that cargo furniture practically from the day it came into the house, but it was a free hand-me-down from none other than Grampy and Gran so she couldn't refuse.  No matter how much he and his brother abused it, as kids generally do, the furniture refused to give in and fall apart much to his mother's chagrin.
 
"What ever happened to that furniture?" Zach mused to himself.
 
"It flew off the pick-up when you were moving.  The cushion to the couch.  Your mom was so happy," the ghost reminisced.  "Remember?"
 
"Oh, yeah… Wait, how did you know that?" Zach asked.
 
The ghost smiled sheepishly.  "Well, I am all about the past, you know. Speaking of which…" he nodded toward the living room.
 
Zach and his little brother were busily tearing through packages as their mom scurried around to pick up discarded wrapping paper as it fell to the floor in the wake of their fervor. 
 
"Slow down, boys," their dad said.  "We want to see what Santa brought you.  Marianne, you might as well wait until they're done."
 
"I can't stand this mess, Ed. You can't even see the floor."
 
Zach smiled at his mother's futile attempt to snag all the flying paper, then another movement caught his eye.  A gray Siamese cat tiptoed around the paper, gingerly stepping as though the floor were littered with land mines rather than harmless wrapping.
 
"Chewy!" Zach exclaimed as the old Siamese cat neared him.  It approached Zach as though to rub his dark gray fur against his shin, but the cat stopped just shy of Zach's leg. Zach reached out to stroke him, and his face fell when his hand split the image of the cat like smoke.
 
"They can't see us," the ghost explained.  "This time we're watching is long gone."
 
"Right. It's 'Christmas Past'."
 
The ghost's mouth turned up in a smile.  "That's right.  You're good."
 
"What can I say?  Concussions must make me sharp as well as give me weird dreams.  Do you know what a concussion feels like, by the way?"
 
The ghost chuckled.  "You're a funny guy."
 
"I try.  What is it I'm supposed to be watching here? Is there a point to this?"
 
The ghost cleared his throat.  "Oh.  Um," his voice switched to an authoritative tone.  "This is a scene from your past."
 
"Uh, yeah…," Zach replied sarcastically.  "I thought we covered that."
 
The ghost deflated.  "Just watch, would you?"
 
Zach sighed and turned back to the scene in front of him just as his dad disappeared under the tree, and popped back out bearing a gift.  He straightened up on the ottoman and adjusted the Santa hat he always wore for the occasion.
 
"Here's another one for Zachary," he said, passing the box to Zach. 
 
The little boy beamed with excitement as the surprise awaiting him under the paper slowly revealed itself as he whisked the wrapping away.
 
A 12-year-old Zach thrust the box overhead with excitement.  "A Lego X-wing fighter!" he exclaimed.  "I always wanted one of these!"
 
"Is that the one you wanted?" his mom asked hopefully.
 
"I love it!" he gushed.  "I've wanted it my whole life!"
 
A much older Zach looked on as his former self peeled open the box and poured the contents onto the heavy wooden coffee table that matched the frame of the cargo furniture.  "I remember that!" he said.  "I loved that set.  It took me a whole day to put it together… once I got it back."
 
The ghost nodded knowingly.  "Watch."
 
"I wanna help put it together," Zach's brother was saying as he picked up one of the bags full of pieces.
 
"No, Cody!" child Zach ordered, snatching the pieces away.  "Go play with your own stuff!"
 
"Where does this one go?" Cody asked unabated as he picked up a small white piece.
 
Zach yanked it from his hand.  "ON the table."
 
"Boys," their mother warned.  "Let's not fight on Christmas, please."
 
"Stop it, Cody!"
 
"Ok, Cody," Ed said.  "Leave Zach's stuff alone and play with your own.  Here's another package for you."
 
"Yeah, get your gift and play with your own stuff," Zach echoed with a smug grin.  "You're too young for this anyway.  You're only 8 and the box says you have to be 9 or older."
 
Cody shot Zach a hateful glare, and reluctantly went back to his own stash but not before poking his tongue out at his older brother.
 
"I don't need to see any more," a much older Zach replied to the ghost. "I remember the rest."
 
"Watch…" the ghost said, undaunted, as he started biting a grungy fingernail.
 
Zach's nose turned up.  "That's just gross.  How can you put that in your mouth?"
 
The ghost looked at a half-bitten nail and shrugged.  "Doesn't bother me none," he said as he put the nail back between his teeth.
 
Zach shuddered and looked back just as the room around them changed to a peaceful sight, the living room put back to rights and all the gifts opened and displayed under the tree.  Cody came into the empty room, wandering over to the coffee table where Legos still lay strewn over the tabletop, an X-wing fighter partially assembled.  He looked around the room to be sure he was alone before he set about working on the model.
 
"Rugrat," Zach from the present grumbled.  "That didn't belong to him.  Always touching stuff that wasn't his."
 
"Cody!" a 12-year-old Zach exclaimed upon reentering the room.  "Get away from that!"
 
"You're supposed to share!" the little boy retorted.
 
"Not on Christmas day! I'm not fooling around with your stuff!"
 
"I only want to help."
 
"Help someone else."  Zach shoved his brother out of the way, and he stumbled backward, managing not to fall.
 
Cody frowned and pushed Zach back then took on a battle-stance, ready to defend his honor.  The older boy didn't decline the invitation to fight, and he popped both palms firmly against his brother's chest, hard.  That time, Cody fell to the floor with a solid thud, no matter how prepared he seemed to be beforehand.  His surprised look fell into a pinched expression that both Zachs, present and past, instantly recognized.
 
"Cry baby," older Zach muttered.  "He could always get his way by turning on the waterworks."
 
Cody's mouth fell open and silence poured out while a heartfelt cry gathered in his belly then rolled to the top of his lungs, loud enough to raise the roof.
 
"Shhh!" boy Zach urged.  "Shut up! You're going to get me in trouble!"
 
Marianne rushed into the room at the sound of her son crying, and found her youngest child on the floor but in one piece and not losing any blood.  "What happened?  Cody?"
 
"Zach pushed meeeeeeee!" he bellowed.
 
"Well, he was fooling around with my stuff!" Zach jumped to his own defense.
 
His mother glared at him.  "Zach.  Did you push him down?"
 
"But Mom!"
 
"Did you?"
 
Zach looked at the shag carpet.  "Maybe."
 
"Ok.  Apologize to your brother," she demanded, wiping Cody's eyes and putting him on his feet.
 
"But Mom!"
 
"Now."
 
Zach sighed and crossed his arms. "Fine.  Sorry."
 
"That didn't sound very sincere," she commented.
 
"Well, I'm not sorry! He was messing with my things!"
 
"All right.  Since this seems to be causing so much trouble, why don't we put it up until you two can get along?" she asked rhetorically as she started gathering the many pieces scattered about. 
 
"MOM! That's not FAIR!" Zach protested loudly.
 
"You can have it back tomorrow.  Maybe by then you two can play together without fighting.  You have plenty of other things to play with in the meantime."
 
She disappeared with the X-wing set in her clutches, oblivious to Zach's pleas for mercy.  As soon as she left the room, Cody gave Zach a satisfied grin without a tear in sight.
 
Both Zachs ground out bitterly, "Rugrat."
 
Cody tuned up again and ran after their mother.  "Mo-om!"
 
"Cody, hush," she said in the distance.
 
Zach turned to the ghost and crossed his arms. "Can I go back to my nap now?  I don't need any reminders of my trouble with Lego Star Wars, ok?"
 
"Very well," the ghost said.
 
Zach's eyes widened in surprise. "That was easy."
 
"You saw what you were meant to see."
 
Zach cut his eyes at the ghost and took hold of his elbow.  "Up, up and away, or whatever you say to take off."
 
The ghost's mouth spread in a wide smile.  "We're outta here!"
 
The room began to swirl again and didn't stop until they were back in Zach's present day living room.  Cujo raised his head from his paws and looked mildly at Zach as if he had never left. 
 
"You've been lying there the whole time? You aren't much help at warding these guys off, you know."
 
Cujo gave him an apologetic whimper. 
 
"Never mind." Zach turned to the ghost.  "So now I go back to sleep until the next one shows up and interrupts me?"
 
"Yeah, cuz, you know," the being shrugged.
 
"That's how the story goes," Zach nodded.
 
"Yeah," the ghost smiled broadly.
 
Zach went back to the sofa and squeezed in beside Cujo.  "Have a nice trip," Zach saluted his guest then settled back down to go to sleep.  "Oh, by the way," he asked as he rolled back over to ask a question.
 
He scanned the empty room and found no sign of the ghost. 
 
"This is worse than a bad hangover," he griped at the pounding of his head.  He scrunched down under the afghan and closed his eyes.  "This is the weirdest dream I've ever had."
 
He barely settled back down before a new voice asked, "You ready?"
 
Zach cracked open one eye and looked up at an older looking dead guy.  He was probably about the age of his grampy judging by the gray hair and wrinkles he took with him into the afterlife.  "Aren't you supposed to wait until I'm asleep?"
 
"Weren't you?" the new ghost asked tentatively.
 
Zach glared up at the intruder and said, "No.  I wasn't."
 
The ghost uttered a nervous laugh.  "Oops.  Sorry.  I'm kind of new at this."
 
"I barely laid down," Zach complained as he threw the blanket off him, flinging it unintentionally over Cujo, who growled non-threateningly in response as he pawed the covers out of the way.
 
Zach looked through the ghost's floor-length pink coat.  "You guys all shop at the same store?"
 
The Ghost of Christmas Present waved a hand of dismissal at Zach.  "Standard issue.  The styles are dreadful."  He brushed at the fur-lined collar and smoothed the fabric of his pink coat.
 
"They didn't have any more red, huh?"
 
"I like the pink," he smiled. "We do get to pick our own colors."
 
"Where's your poinsettia crown?"
 
His mouth fell open in surprise as he reached for the top of his head. "Crap.  I forgot the hat thing.  Now, I'm going to have to hear it from Rufus."
 
"Who's that?"
 
"The boss," he whispered, with a bony finger pointing above.  "Head hauncho.  Jefe. Big Kahuna."
 
Zach frowned uncertainly.  "God's name is Rufus? I don't remember that from the Bible."
 
The ghost looked equally confused and blinked.  "What?  No.  *My* boss, not *the* boss."
 
"Oh," Zach replied, then a thought struck him.  "Wait.  Are you from Hell?"
 
The ghost gasped and placed his palm to his unbeating heart.  "No! Bite your tongue."
 
"Sorry," Zach muttered.  "So, you must be the Ghost of Christmas Present?"
 
"That's me," he answered proudly, spreading his arms open wide.  The big oversized sleeves fanned out to make him look like an awkward pink snow angel of sorts.  "Are you ready for a little trip?"
 
"I just got back from one," Zach informed his new flight attendant.
 
"Another one," the ghost said.
 
"I guess."  Zach took the ghost's pink elbow and asked as the swirling geared up, "You don't happen to know what a concussion feels like, do you?" 
 
Christmas Present chuckled in response, but offered nothing more as they waited for the swirling to stop once again.  As soon as Zach's vision cleared, dark brown paneling came into view, and wrapping paper went flying at the hands of two eager little boys.
 
"What is this, a rerun?" Zach asked. "I saw this already."
 
"Oops," the ghost smiled apologetically, his fingertips pressed shyly to his lips.  "Do over!"
 
Zach shook his head and rolled his eyes, taking the ghost's elbow once again.  "This is the dumbest dream."
 
When the swirling stopped the next time, they were in another familiar place: the toy aisle at Target.
 
"I don't need to see this," Zach stated emphatically, shaking his head.  "I just saw it.  Lived it even."
 
"Christmas Past showed you this, too?" the ghost demanded with his hands on his hips.  "He was supposed to leave this for me.  I'm Present, not him!  That bastard is starting to get on my nerves.  I can't take an eternity of working with him."
 
"No," Zach quickly clarified.  "He didn't show me this."
 
"But you said—"
 
"No," Zach corrected himself. "I meant I just saw this today.  This morning. This happened today, so I think I'd remember it."
 
Christmas Present scratched his head in confusion and dug in a little bag cinched around his wrist.  He found a crumpled up piece of paper and straightened it out carefully then perched some reading glasses on the end of his nose that he pulled from the breast pocket inside his robe. 
 
"No, this is right.  Says right here.  This is where I'm supposed to take you."
 
"Isn't this technically 'past' since it happened this morning?"
 
"No, huh uh," the ghost said.  "Past is like… way past.  Not the same day.  Today is present."
 
"That's messed up," Zach surmised.  "You need to talk to Rufus."
 
Christmas Present shooed away Zach's concerns.  "He won't listen to me.  What do I know? I just work here."
 
"Look! Here we come," Zach shouted.  "It's me and Ben.  I need to hide or something, don't I?  Isn't there some rule about seeing yourself?"
 
"No, that's time travel—er – well, it's different.  It's…" the ghost tapped his temple as he thought.  "Oh!  They can't see us. That's it."
 
"Oh," Zach said.  "Same as with Christmas past."
 
"Exactly."
 
Ben said to Zach's other self as he shouldered past the throng of shoppers, "I cannot believe you talked me into this.  I hate Black Friday!"
 
"It's not that bad. It's festive!"
 
"Festive my ass.  We had to park in the grass!"  He grunted as someone bumped into as they shuffled through the crowded aisles.
 
"It's worth it.  Do you know how much these things normally cost?" Zach asked him.
 
"No. I don't usually buy Legos."
 
"It's the Star Destroyer.  Regular price $99, on sale today *only*," he stressed, "for $59. They're giving it away!"
 
"Hardly," Ben countered. "The scary thing is they're still making money."
 
"I hope there are some left.  Here. This is the aisle." 
 
Christmas Present leaned over to Zach, but keeping an eye on the scene in front of him.  "This is pretty good.  I heard there was a fight."
 
Zach cut his eyes at the ghost and stabbed a finger toward his swollen eye.  "Duh."
 
The ghost hissed and tsked at the sight.  "Oh, yeah.  Sorry."
 
"Look," Zach said.  "Here comes the bully who started the fight."
 
"Jeez.  He's big," the ghost grimaced.  "I'd hate to fight him."
 
"I wouldn't recommend it.  He has a mean right hook."
 
"We need popcorn," the ghost smiled, his eyes wide with anticipation.
 
"You don't need to enjoy this so much, you know," Zach grumbled.
 
"Shhh!" the ghost reprimanded. "I'm trying to hear."
 
Ben said, "I don't even know what to look for.  How big is it?"
 
"Big," Zach told him.  "There it is!" 
 
Ben struggled to keep up, but managed to catch Zach just as he nabbed the last Star Wars Lego Star Destroyer from the top shelf.  "I got it!"
 
Ben's smile at his friend's enthusiasm faded when a shadow from a man about 10 feet tall fell over them. 
 
"I was going to grab that for my son," the large man said with a scowl.  "I almost had my hand on it."
 
Zach told him, "I was going to grab it, too, for my nephew.  Which I did because my hand was actually *on* it.  Close only counts in horseshoes."
 
"I have to have that for my kid and I'm not driving to another Target at this hour."
 
Zach clicked his tongue in feigned pity.  "Then I guess your kid isn't getting one."
 
"Zach, let's go," Ben prodded his friend.
 
"I need that Legos set," the man between his clenched teeth.
 
"What do you want me to say?  I got it, you didn't, mister," Zach said, undaunted. 
 
"Leave him alone," Ben whispered to Zach.  "Just walk away."
 
"What's going on, Jimmy?" a woman asked as she joined them.
 
"This asshole took the last Star Destroyer.  I saw it first."
 
"What are you, twelve?" Zach asked.
 
"Zach," Ben hissed with a tug on Zach's coat sleeve.  "Shut up and let's go."
 
"You'd better watch your mouth before I knock a few of those perfect teeth out," Jimmy warned.
 
"I'm quaking," Zach said to the man as he yanked his arm back from Ben's grip.  "I'm about to take the last Legos Star Destroyer up to the register and check out.  Watch me go."
 
He turned away from Jimmy, and immediately felt a shove between the shoulder blades.  He whipped around and pushed back, both palms landing solidly against the man's chest, hard enough to make him take two steps back. 
 
"Keep your damn hands off of me," Zach demanded.
 
Zach barely had time to enjoy his minor victory when the other man's fist connected with Zach's left eye.
 
"Hey!" Ben exclaimed.  "Watch it!"
 
Christmas Present clapped and yelled, "Fight!"
 
Zach rolled his eyes and watched his other self get into the fight as Ben unsuccessfully tried to stop him.  Clutching the Lego box under one arm, Zach swung back, nailing the larger man square in the middle of his face, and his nose instantly began to spout a gusher of blood.
 
Ben lunged between the men, managing to block another blow from Zach, and Jimmy's better half did her best to hold him back, as the shoppers crowding the aisle stepped back out of the way. 
 
A store employee arrived on the scene from out of nowhere as the two men continued their sparring verbally.
 
"What's going on here?" the man asked.
 
"He hit me!" Zach accused.  "He wants this, but I got to it first."
 
"That isn't what happened.  He hit me and grabbed it.  I had it first," Jimmy stated as he daubed blood from his face with a tissue his female sidekick had retrieved from her purse.
 
"That's not what happened," Ben said.  "We got the last one and he got pissed.  He started it."
 
People milled around, distracted from the Black Friday deals long enough to see the drama unfolding on aisle eight, but no one offered an opinion on what had transpired.  The young Target worker was left scratching his head and out of his element as the two men bleated differing versions of the same story.
 
Another woman showed up, wearing not only Target red and white, but also donning a tag that let the world know she was a store manager.  "I called the police," she announced, taking charge of the situation.  She listened to both sides of the story then proclaimed, "Let's go up front and wait for the police. They can handle this."
 
"I'm not going anywhere," Jimmy announced.  "Not without that."
 
The store manager followed his gaze to the coveted Lego Starship Zach still held.  "I'll take that until the police can sort this out."
 
Zach looked down at the box then to her outstretched hands.  Ben chunked him in the ribcage.  "Give it," he ordered.
 
Zach sighed then held out the box, his fingers maintaining their grip even as the store manager tried to take it.  He finally relaxed his grip and gave up his prize.
 
Ben whispered to him as they followed the manager to the front office, "I'm calling Vic.  We're not getting our asses hauled to jail when the police get here."
 
"They can't do that, can they? We didn't do anything," Zach stated.
 
"Fighting in the middle of the store?  We'll be lucky to go to jail and not end up on the news as a Black Friday story.  I'm not taking any chances," Ben said as he pulled his phone from his pocket.  "It won't hurt to have an attorney around in case we're given the right to remain silent.  Which, by the way, had you been silent, we wouldn't be in this shit mess."
 
Christmas Present glanced over at the Zach with him and cocked an eyebrow.  "He's right, you know."
 
"Thanks for the newsflash.  The guy was being a dick.  I wasn't going to back down from him or anyone else."
 
"You taunted him."
 
"Aren't you supposed to just show me stuff?  Does lecturing come under your jurisdiction, too?"
 
The ghost shrugged.  "No extra charge for that."
 
They turned back to the scene as the police arrived. 
 
"Jimmy, what have you done, now?" the shorter officer asked.
 
"I didn't do anything but defend myself."
 
The cop's mouth twisted into a cynical smile.  "Sure, Jimmy. Whatever you say."
 
The officers got a rudimentary description of what happened from the manager's point of view, who hadn't seen a thing.  To sort things out, they separated the parties and grilled them for answers as they tried to piece together the truth.  Vic arrived by the time it was Zach's turn to give his version of events.  Ben chimed in to offer his perspective and support whenever it seemed needed, especially when the two of them tried to gloss over and belittle the comments Zach had made. 
 
The officer assigned to Ben and Zach came back over to them after speaking with an elderly lady nearby.  "Well, I think we just solved the puzzle.  That sweet lady over there saw what happened and felt like she should tell us what she saw."
 
"Thank God," Ben said. "The aisle was full of people. I couldn't believe no one wanted to be a witness."
 
"I knew someone must have seen something, but getting them to get involved is another matter all together," the officer commented.  "She volunteered to be a witness if we needed one."
 
"What did she say?" Zach asked.
 
"She relayed the same thing you guys did when I asked her if she saw anything. Confirmed some of the things that were said," he replied with a disapproving tone.  "You might want to be more careful about making flip comments and baiting people you don't know."
 
Zach almost melted on the spot when Vic turned his dark eyes to him after the cop's admonishment. Even though he and Ben had minimized his participation as best they could, Vic read between the lines, and probably suspected as much before the officer confirmed it.  Nelson wouldn't be fooled by any bullshit either, considering he knew Zach far better than Vic did. 
 
"I'm going to go tell my partner the whole story," the cop said. "Wait here and we'll be right back."
 
As the policeman left, Vic studied Zach's swelling eye.  "Are you sure you're ok, Zach?"
 
"I'll live."
 
He took Zach's chin and inspected the eye a little closer.  "He really got you, didn't he?"
 
"Yeah."
 
"Have you called Nelson yet?"
 
"He's working," Zach told him, avoiding Vic's eye.  "I don't want to bother him."
 
Vic squeezed Zach's shoulder supportively.  "Bother him."
 
Zach watched himself reach for the phone in his pocket and the memory of the conversation sent a chill down his spine.  Nelson had asked all the right probing questions with a promise to get the rest of the story later.  "Can't we go now?" he asked Christmas Present as he shifted a bit.  "We've seen the whole thing."
 
The ghost replied, "Almost.  Not quite."
 
Both officers reappeared with the manager, Jimmy and the Star Wars Star Destroyer. 
 
"Up to you if you want to press any charges," the dark-haired officer told him.  "Sounds like you hit him in self-defense."
 
Zach studied Jimmy and refused to look away until the other man dropped his eyes.  "I'll let it go if I get the Starship." 
 
The officer handed him the Legos set.  "Here you go.  According to our investigation, you got it first anyway."
 
Zach took the prize out of the officer's hands.  "I did get to it first," he couldn't resist adding.
 
Vic cleared his throat and gave his head a slight shake that Zach saw clearly.  He took Vic's advice and shut it before he got Jimmy riled all over again.
 
"You're free to go, Jimmy," the other officer said.
 
The dark-haired officer waited until Jimmy had skulked away to echo his partner's sentiments to Zach.  "In the future, you might want to be a little more selective about who you choose to argue with.  You never know when it could be someone like Jimmy.  You got lucky this time."
 
"I know," Zach said, his face flushing with the warning from the other officer.  "I'll be more careful."
 
"Saying things on impulse these days can get you hurt," he added.  "Too many crazy people out there.  You have to be careful."
 
Christmas Present chunked Zach in the ribs.  "He's right."
 
"I'm guessing I'll be hearing that sermon again later," Zach said wearily.
 
"Christmas Yet to Come will let you know about later."  Christmas Present held out his arm for Zach.  "I'm just present and I've shown you all I was supposed to."
 
"Thank God," Zach muttered. "I've had enough of this for one day." 
 
 The images blurred and swirled until they were whisked back to the living room where it all began.
 
"That seemed a lot more stupid watching it than living it," Zach said to Christmas Present.  "Why didn't I just walk away and keep my mouth shut?"
 
"You do seem to be a bit on the impulsive side, like the cop said," the ghost replied then snapped his fingers and gasped.  "Oh! I almost forgot."
 
He straightened up tall, opened his coat and revealed two little children clutching to his legs in tattered clothes.  He pronounced in a booming ghost-like voice, "These little ones are Impulse and Carelessness. They represent the main causes of the suffering in your life, especially Impulse."
 
Zach looked at the ghost and didn't blink.  Christmas Present dropped his voice back to a normal level, and asked, "Are you scared?"
 
Zach glared at Christmas Present.  "No.  That wasn't scary at all.  You're not real good at this, are you?" 
 
The ghost yanked his coat back around him briskly.  "Give a guy a break. I told you I'm new."
 
"Sorry.  It's not you," Zach consoled him.  "It's just that I know how this story goes and it has a happy ending ultimately. The scary part is facing my partner later.  Nothing you can show me will be as scary as that."
 
"That's for Christmas Yet to Come to cover, according to my agenda."  He looked at his watch and whistled.  "Look at the time.  I gotta fly."
 
In a flash, the specter faded and disappeared with a wave, leaving Zach alone in the living room with Cujo and his thoughts.  Cujo was sprawled on his back while he snoozed, his rear legs splayed out and his front paws curled in a relaxed begging posture.  He finally stirred when Zach sat on the sofa.
 
"At least one of us is getting a good nap," Zach commented as he dug his fingers into the little dog's fur.  "One more trip and I should be able to get some sleep, too. Although… if I'm dreaming, that means I'm getting sleep…"
 
Cujo popped up suddenly, his wiry hair standing on end as he began to growl menacingly.  "What is it, boy—" Zach started then saw the subject of Cujo's frustration. 
 
Zach's arms broke out in goosebumps as a new ghost took center stage in the living room, donned in a black robe and bearing a sickle.  "Shit," Zach whispered.  "I forgot Christmas Yet to Come was the Death Angel.  Does this mean Nelson is going to kill me when he gets home?"
 
A bony skeletal finger reached out from the flowing black sleeve of the robe and crooked in a beckoning motion toward Zach. 
 
Zach swallowed a lump and patted Cujo.  "It's ok, boy.  It's just a concussion.  Nothing to worry about."
 
Zach bravely took his place beside the being and looked up at him, trying to get a peek under the hooded robe, but saw nothing.  "Do I have to touch you to get this party started?"
 
The thing nodded slowly in response.  Zach sighed and clenched his eyes shut as he tentatively placed a hand on the icy cold arm of the ghost.
 
He cracked his eye open as the air stopped whirring around him and he found himself in the latest scene:  their bedroom.  His future self was laid out bare-butt over Nelson's lap, his jeans around his knees, while Nelson droned in mid-lecture as he spanked. 
 
"Fabulous!" Zach complained, smacking his palms against his thighs.  "This is just what I wanted to see today."
 
The ghost beside him put a finger to whatever served as lips hidden behind the hood, and Zach crossed his arms in a huff and turned his attention to the unfortunate scene in front of him.
 
"You have to start thinking, Zach.  I can't believe you engaged in a squabble with some guy you didn't know."  Nelson's hand smacked down repeatedly on Zach's butt in perfect cadence with his lecture.
 
"But he started it!" Zach argued and squirmed. "What did you expect me to do?"
 
Nelson stopped mid-swing, and rested his palm on Zach's backside instead.  "Are you serious?  Did you not hear a word I said earlier?"
 
"I heard you, but I wasn't being impulsive.  I just didn't think to walk away.  He started in on me and I never even thought about backing down."
 
"How about if it happens again?" Nelson asked.  "Will you think next time or act impulsively and carelessly?"
 
"I'll walk away, ok? Please stop it, Nelson.  I already have a black eye."
 
"I'm going to make sure that walking away is your first instinct if something like this ever happens again.  Then you shouldn't have a black eye in the future."
 
Nelson picked up where he left off and his hand continued to smack down, turning Zach's butt to a deepening shade of red.
 
Zach turned to Christmas Yet to Come and said with a grimace, "I seriously don't need to see this detail. I know very well how this part of the story goes.  Trust me."
 
Christmas Yet to Come silently pointed to the couple on the bed and Zach grudgingly turned back to the scene.  He tried closing his eyes against the sight, but Christmas Yet to Come elbowed him hard enough to cost him a bit of his footing.  Zach huffed at the spirit and opened his eyes after the silent command.  The sounds of his butt getting whacked without the visual were just as bad anyway, and Zach couldn't shut those out even if he tried.
 
He shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with the image of seeing his own rear end getting spanked, especially in front of a witness, even if he did look like the Angel of Death.  The color quickly rose in his face to match the red of his other self's punished behind. 
 
When it was finally over, Zach breathed a sigh of relief.  "Can we please go now?  I don't really want to think about what's going to happen, thank you very much."
 
Christmas Yet to Come shook his head and nodded toward the Zach and Nelson they were watching.
 
Nelson gathered Zach in his lap and hugged him, kissing him firmly on the temple.  "That guy could have been more than a two-bit hood and bully, Zach.  I can't imagine seeing you hurt worse than a black eye, and that's bad enough. He could have pulled a knife on you or some other sort of weapon."
 
"I'm not good at walking away from a challenge," Zach sniffled. "I never have been."
 
"I hope after today, you find it to be the better alternative if you're faced with something like that again."
 
Future Zach nodded and said to Nelson despondently, "Yeah.  Impulse and carelessness have caused me more than my share of pain."
 
Nelson smiled and patted Zach's heated behind.  "That they have, Zach.  That they have.  Especially impulse."
 
"I'm going to change, Nelson. I promise."
 
Nelson curled a finger under Zach's chin and raised his face.  "Why would I want you to change?  I love you just like you are.  I only want you to think before you act.  Impulse isn't always bad, but when you combine it with being careless, it can be dangerous.  I love that you're carefree, but it scares me when you're careless.  I don't know what I'd do without you."
 
Zach felt a pang of guilt as he watched the scene playing in front of him.  He hadn't thought about Nelson being afraid anymore than he thought of him being a boy.  He had such a strong personality, that it was easy to forget he had his own vulnerabilities and fears. Zach never wanted to scare him or cause him concern unnecessarily.
 
"I had no idea the guy had a record, Nelson.  I wouldn't have messed with him had I known that."
 
"That's why you have to be careful.  Too many crazy people out there, Zach.  You can't take chances like that.  You need to know when to walk away."
 
"That's what the police said."
 
"They were right."
 
"I'm sorry about not thinking. I just reacted.  It won't happen again, I swear."
 
"I know," Nelson said with another kiss to Zach's head. "No more Legos for Christmas gifts, huh?"
 
"Never."
 
The two fell silent, locked in an embrace, and present Zach turned to the ghost.  "*Now* can we go?"
 
The ghost nodded and offered Zach his elbow.  The next thing he knew, Zach was standing in the living room once again.
 
"That was fun," Zach said with a roll of his eyes.  "Nothing like seeing your own butt getting smacked and knowing that later —" He stopped talking when he realized the room was empty except for Cujo. 
 
His slack jaw began working again after several moments of silence.  "What the hell?  He left just like that? Do any of them say goodbye?"
 
Cujo's head cocked to one side and he inquisitively stared at his master.  Zach shook his head.  "That's just as well.  Maybe now I can get some sleep because that's how the story goes, I believe."
 
Zach curled up on the sofa once again and Cujo pressed against him.  "Maybe this stupid dream will be over now, and I can get a real nap before Nelson comes home to kill me.  It would be nice if that last part was really a concussive illusion and this thing ends differently."
 
Cujo blinked at him then laid his head on his paws, and whined sympathetically.  "I know.  Not likely, is it?  At least he wasn't using a paddle."
 
He tugged the afghan back over his shoulders, and settled into its comfort while he tried to shut out thoughts of the past, present, and especially, the future.  It seemed he had barely closed his eyes before he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He almost growled in frustration. There were only supposed to be three ghosts!
 
He turned over in a huff, and his brain swept out the cobwebs of sleep until recognition burned off the fog.  "Nelson?" he asked sleepily.
 
Nelson sighed and shook his head, reaching out to touch the tender skin around Zach's left eye.  "What the hell were you thinking, arguing with some guy you don't know?" he asked gently.
 
"Are you real?" Zach asked.
 
Nelson frowned and pushed Zach's hair off his forehead as he sat on the edge of the coffee table.  "How hard did you get hit?"
 
"I've been having some really weird dreams.  I think I have a concussion."  An unexpected glimmer of hope flickered in the back of his mind that if he did have a concussion, maybe Nelson would take pity on him.  Maybe.
 
"Are you nauseous?" Nelson asked.
 
"No."
 
"Dizzy?"
 
"No."
 
"Ears ringing?"
 
"No," he answered.
 
Nelson locked his fingers together in front of him and rested his elbows on his knees as he studied Zach.  "You don't have a concussion," he said, snuffing out the only ray of hope for a reprieve.  "But you do have a nasty black eye."
 
"How bad is it?"
 
"I can tell you've been hit," Nelson said, turning Zach's face to get a better look.  "What kind of dreams were you having?"
 
"Dreams about all this crap today.  Legos.  Star Wars.  Christmas past, present and future."
 
"We watched A Christmas Carol last night," Nelson put two and two together.
 
"I know."  Zach's head dipped slightly and he looked up at Nelson through lowered lashes.  "Are you going to kill me over this morning even though I got a black eye?  It is Christmas, you know."
 
"You'll probably feel maimed a bit, but I'm not going to kill you." 
 
"I already feel maimed. Isn't that enough?" Zach tenderly touched his eye for effect.
 
"No, it's not enough.  You have to start thinking, Zach, and not –"
 
"I know," Zach interrupted. "Not acting on impulse and being careless.  The two together are dangerous and scare you, and I have to be more careful about who I choose to engage with, and know when to walk away. It isn't fair to you or us or me to put myself in dangerous situations without thinking."
 
Nelson's mouth hung open in shocked silence with the wind sucked out of his lecture sails. He finally found his voice. "I couldn't have said it better myself.  Looks like you've had plenty of time to give this some thought."
 
"Believe me, I have," Zach said earnestly.
 
"I guess we can dispense with the corner then." 
 
Zach wasn't sure if that was good news or bad.
 
Nelson stood up and held out a hand to Zach, ending the shortest lecture in their time together.  Nelson said, "Shall we?"
 
Bad news, Zach decided. 
 
Zach took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then placed his hand in Nelson's.
 
~~~~~~~~~~~
 
Zach carefully trimmed the wrapping paper and placed the Lego Star Destroyer in the center of the big coffee table in the living room, taping the paper around the box to seal the surprise.  Nelson was working on another gift, one of the few they had picked up at that early point in the season.
 
"This ended up being a costly gift," Zach grumbled under his breath, his backside and eye still tender.  "Christian better love the hell out of it."
 
"Pass the tape, Rocky," Nelson said as he wrapped another gift. 
 
"Yo, Adrian. It's beside you on the floor," Zach commented.
 
"Oh," Nelson replied feeling for the tape. "That set did cost you a bit more than $59, didn't it?"
 
"A lot more.  I'd gladly turn back the clock and pay full price."
 
Nelson cocked an eyebrow at Zach.  "Or you could just ignore bullies who try to push you around."
 
"Yeah, that, too."  Zach selected a colorful bow with streaming ribbons flowing from the bottom, and he picked the paper backing off to uncover the sticky bottom.  "He'd better like this is all I've got to say."
 
"What's not to like?  Don't all little boys love Legos?"
 
"I know I did.  Oh! When I was concussed—"
 
"You didn't have a concussion, Zach."
 
"Fine. When I was dreaming," he conceded, "I remembered getting into a shoving match with Cody over my first Lego Star Wars set."
 
"Really?  I didn't know this was a habit of yours.  Some things never change, huh?"
 
Zach glared at Nelson.  "You don't honestly think that's funny, do you?"
 
"No," Nelson said, laughing despite his claim. 
 
"I can honestly say that this will be my last run-in over a Star Wars Lego set.  This is as close as I ever plan to get to another one."  He popped the bow atop the package next to the name tag he had placed on it with Christian's name on it.
 
He sat the wrapped box aside and something red caught his eye from under the edge of the sofa.  He tugged on it and pulled a slightly used fake poinsettia flower out from under the couch.  "Where did this come from?"
 
Nelson glanced at the flower and frowned.  "I'm not sure.  The bag of bows maybe?"
 
Zach thought back to his dream and the strange headdress of Christmas Past.  The poinsettia looked oddly the same, yet… he was dreaming, wasn't he?  "Must have come out of the bag…right," he mused almost to himself as he studied the flower curiously.
 
Nelson said, "Well, I for one am glad to hear there won't be any more fights over Legos around here.  You're sure about that, right?"
 
"Absolutely."
 
"Positive?" Nelson asked.  He attached a name tag to the box he just wrapped, and admired his handiwork.
 
"Yes."  Zach turned the poinsettia over in his hand then shoved it dismissively into the bag of bows. "Because that's how this story goes, and it ends here."
 
The End