The Season of Hope

Outside John’s office window, a sidewalk Santa is setting up his chimney stand and kettle. John’s phone rings.

John

‘Hey’

Cindy

‘Hey how’s New York?’

John

‘So cool. Christmas lights, there’s a man in a red suit getting ready to collect for the poor…I think. How’s Miami.’

Cindy

“oh, you know: blue skies, blue ocean, old ladies with blue hair.’

John laughs.

Cindy

‘…and I can top your man in the red suit. We have a man in…yellow shorts, brown socks and brown sandals who wants you to write a holiday card type ad…you know all love and stuff. And he says don’t f up cause it will represent the agency.

John

‘Don’t f up? I can feel the love from here. Yellow shorts, brown socks and sandals. He’s a brilliant business man. Why does he dress like that?’

Cindy

‘Cause it pisses off his sons. They dress like white rappers…from the mean streets of Boca Raton. You know…over-sized, t-shirts made for them by their tailor in Paris.  Tres , tres nouveau riche’

John raps back

‘…my caviar tastes a little stale…it turned my skin even more pale…’

Cindy

‘Anyway…please get on this so he can go onto whatever he does with his time. Hey last night, they rented out a club in South Beach. And Bernie parked his Rolls Royce on the club’s little lawn. The bouncer said ‘you can’t park there. Bernie said…then park it bitch.’

John

‘Nice way to talk to a woman.’

Cindy

‘No it was a big Black dude. ‘

John

‘Ahhh…showing more love in this world. Anyway,  I’ll get back fast. Byeeee.’

Cindy

‘Later…much.’

Email form John to Cindy/Miami

Title: The Season of Hope

 Every day, we strive.

But a few times a year, we decide some days are not ‘every days’.

Whether with candles or strings of lights,

this time of year we see hope fight against life’s darkness.

For some, it is a matter of faith. For others it’s a great excuse to party and celebrate.

For all of us, let’s make this a time of recognition: we need to give ourselves  hope.

Beyond us… we need to give that hope to others-whether they share our beliefs or not.

Give someone hope. Tis the season.

Email from Cindy to John/NYS

Bernie said run it.

Oh come...all ye zombies.

John is on the top of a ladder with his head in the attic. Aunt Margaret is standing on the ladder below him-ready to receive the next box of Christmas decorations.

John hands a box down to Aunt Margaret.

‘Balls.’

Aunt Margaret

‘John!’

John

‘What? You said to tell you what I’m handing you so you can hold the lid or whatever. And you wrote ‘balls’ 12/10 last year on the box.’

Aunt Margaret

‘I think you enjoy saying that word a little too much.’

John reaches into the attic to grab a box.

‘Jesus’

Aunt Margaret

‘…thou shalt not take the name of the Lord, thy God, in vain…’

John hands the box down to Aunt Margaret.

John

‘Shalt. I love broiled shalts with a little butter.  I was reading the box again. Does Jesus light up?’

Aunt Margaret

‘He does not.’

John hands Aunt Margaret another box.

‘Santa. See he lights up. Jesus is the son of God…and he always looks thin…usually concerned…Santa is fat…having fun.’

Aunt Margaret

‘Santa was created to sell Coke Cola. Jesus devoted his life to easing people’s pain…and if you believe like we do, readying people for Heaven.’

John

‘Ah but who brought more people into celebrating Christmas?’

Aunt Margaret, taking another box from John

‘You know John. You should talk to Father more.’

John

‘Nope.  Father told me not to come back to confession until I’ve mega sinned.’

Aunt Margaret

‘I’m sure he did not say that.’

John

‘Yes…until you’ve really sinned. Oh, no wait....not 'until.' He said I don’t need to come back to confession ‘unless’  I’ve really sinned. Wow.That was last year. Ya know, this year has really sucked.’

Aunt Margaret

‘I don’t like suck.’

John

‘Oh. I’ve got a weird text. Adjin is inviting me to a tree lighting ceremony.’

Aunt Margaret

‘What’s weird about a tree lighting ceremony at Christmas time?’

John

‘He’s Muslim….oh he sent me another text…Patty sent me one too.’

Text to John from Patty

‘Deck the Halls with bows of dead people.’

Aunt Margaret

‘What does Patty say?’

John

‘Christmas time stuff. Deck the halls with bows of dead people.’

Aunt Margaret

‘Honestly, I don’t understand your friends. Oh wait.  I do. She loves that vampire movie.’

John’s forefinger points down from the attic at Aunt Margaret.

‘Wrong.  Adjin is working at a funeral home. They’re holding a tree lighting ceremony. Patty’s trying to be clever. I have to top her… ‘

John reading his text back to Patty out loud

‘Oh come…all ye zombies.’

Aunt Margaret

‘Might be something to see.’

John

‘I’ll say….Adjin in a suit.’

‘If I die. I wanna go like a winter surfer…in a coffin in a wet suit..with fins.’

Aunt Margaret

‘Honestly John.’

John

‘Or if a great white has gotten me and I’m in pieces…in a bunch of Christmas ornament boxes.  Y-o-u can lable them my Virgo Aunt. You know what one will hopefully say?’

Aunt Margaret

‘O.k. what?’

John hands Aunt Margaret a box.

‘balls.’  

Twilight Breaking Wind

Twilight Breaking wind

Patty can hear the gentle nudging of the waves against Pelican Island.  From her bedroom, she can see the light of the moon rising over Barnegat Bay.  John is in his brass bed with the curved front and iron rosettes-the ocean pounding across from Ocean Boulevard. His cell lights up-incoming message.

John’s phone

TEXT FROM PATTY

‘Can’t believe u hated Twilight Breaking Dawn.’

Patty’s phone

TEXT TO PATTY

‘Twilight Breaking Wind?  Jacob Hack…werewolf with no chest hair. Bella boring Swan…Edward Sullen, depressed, fangless vampire’

TEXT TO JOHN

‘He has fangs.’

TEXT TO PATTY

‘r his fangs  retractable…like a sears garage door opener?Retracting… Ying ying ying ying ying. Click. Retracted.  Bella…I would  die 4 u if I weren’t already dead.’

TEXT TO JOHN

‘Eternal love? Get it? Dream much?’

Patty falls to sleep.

TEXT TO PATTY

‘A boyfriend…undead…wearing cover girl make up- the goth line of beauty…preference hair color….cause he’s worth it….9.95 a box. But u can’t have everything. 8-p’

Patty hears a gentle knock at her door. It opens and Edward Sullen walks in. All of a sudden…werewolf Jacob Hack runs in front of him. His chest freshly waxed.

Patty

‘Boys…boys don’t fight over me…woops

The smooth chested, hairless werewolf slides across Patty’s bed…but with his waxing… keeps on sliding…out of Patty’s window…and off Pelican Island into Barnegat Bay.

Patty

‘Doggie paddle my dream werewolf….doggie paddle.’

Edward Sullen approaches Patty’s bed.

Edward

‘Bella Pelican’

Patty

‘You are my soul mate….if we can find u a soul. Nothing could be better than this.’

Edward

‘Oh yes it could.’

Edward sits on Patty’s bed. His fangs click down. Ying, ying, ying. He leans over and kisses Patty’s thigh. Wherever his lips touch…the fat is sucked out of her leg…leaving it toned and athletic.

Patty

‘Fang-o-suction…I have found eternal love.’

Breaking the mood…Edward breaks wind…

Patty bolts up in bed….awake. She guesses it was Edward who ruined the mood.