Author's Note: This was created for a friend I met through the wonderous event called Nanowrimo. Unfortunately, I got way into this story and turned it from a little blurb of fun to a rather long tale. Still, for my friend as well as for anyone who reads my blog, I wish you and yours the best of Christmases/ Hanukahs and a very merry New Year!
Warnings: a little bit of gross stuff (let us say it is the miracle of birth), random bits of silliness, some adult language, and some displacement of the actual geography in the towns I’m talking about haha.
Buster
by Simply Carrot
On any other Sunday morning, Brock would have been just fine.
However, today was not just any Sunday. Sunbeams crashed through the window and slowly slid their way up to his face, where their incessant light finally opened two groggy, brown eyes.
Any other Sunday morning, Brock could have hidden in the sanctuary of his warm bed until finally slipping out of the covers and schlepping off to the washroom to bathe, possibly shave (but probably not), then turn on the game and watch football, glued to the couch except to relieve himself or get more pretzels.
However, as the sun beams prodded Brock into consciousness, he recalled one very crucial fact: it was not any other Sunday morning. Stiffening immediately, Brock rapidly—if not a bit clumsily—tried to focus what his digital clock was displaying, then blinked in hopes he was reading it incorrectly. Alas, it was indeed December the twenty-fifth at 10:35 am, and Brock had approximately twenty-five minutes to get dressed and down to the church to attend Mass.
Normally, Brock would never attend such a thing. Christmas had slowly morphed from a fantasy with Santa Claus and babies in mangers to a season of grave misgivings and traffic. He’d spent the last six years of his life blissfully ignoring that the holiday existed at all. So far, it was a success leaving Brock with far less gray hairs and much more money is his checking account. He liked to think of it as his own little Christmas bonus.
That was until he found love, of course. Again, I cry “Alas!” for love is a double edged sword. On one hand, Brock could not be happier. Mary, the girl that had him falling at her feet, had been secretly treasured by Brock since she began working in their office some years ago as the assistant to one of the high rollers of the company. As a graphic designer, who’s salary looked like the bonus check of the six figured gentlemen up at the top, Brock figured he’d have no chance with someone as beautiful and wonderful as Mary. Yet, by some strange happenstance, when he went out on a very skinny, waify limb to ask her on a date, the girl had said yes. It had been five months since the first date and they were going fairly strong.
Except now, Brock was going to be late to the Mass Mary specifically asked him to go to. She’d wanted him to go so that he could meet her family and—hopefully—make a good impression on them. From what he understood, Mary was one of five in a very Catholic household, the likes of which he knew next to nothing about. His mother had been a loyal non-practicing Methodist and his father was long out of the picture. Brock didn’t think he even knew any Catholics, or what exactly made them different from the other Christians out there.
No time to think about such things now. Brock catapulted himself off of the bed, stumbling unto his feet to make his way to the bathroom. While he relieved himself, he wondered if he had any time for a shower but the bathroom clock pointed towards no. Grumbling, he went to the sink to quickly wash his face and gargle mouth wash. Finishing that, Brock cursed himself for not thinking of choosing his clothes out the night before. He never woke up this early on a Sunday morning, and decisions were almost never made without a cup of coffee to assist him. Growling, he did his best and pulled together an outfit before checking the time. Seventeen more minutes to haul himself to the church.
Grabbing his phone, Brock saw two missed calls, one from Mary. “Hey, Brock, just wondering where you are. We have a seat saved for you.” Brock found his keys, a coat, and a hat during the message and quickly deleted it as he opened the door and stared at the snow covering the ground. Bing Crosby would have been proud of such an acclimation of snow.
The second message caused him to pause even longer at his porch. “Hey Brockie boy! It’s Benjy. I’m...well I’m in a bit of a rut here.” Brock unfroze and hurried to his car, holding the phone with one hand as he unlocked the door, found the ice scraper for his car, and starting to scrape off the snow and ice from his windshield. “See, it’s Christmas and I was in town doing some errands. You know, getting some last minute presents for the inlaws and whatever, but my car broke down. If you could give me a ride, please call me back, I’m at the Hess station on eighty-eight. Thanks, buddy.”
Brock hung up the phone. Benjy had been his first friend at Monmouth University. He was a good friend to have around, and was excellent for a laugh or a party. However, there was something else about the guy that made Brock cautious. He never talked about his past, although from what Brock understood there was nothing to be ashamed of. Benjy wasn’t a felon, at least he didn’t think so. The man was just an enigma, that was all.
Plopping himself into the car, bits of snow dust following him inside, he turned on the car and saw that it was nearly time for the service to start, anyway. Maybe he should just pick up Benjy, go for a beer or two and wait for Mass to be over before going to Mary’s house. Surely, she’d understand. It wasn’t really his scene anyway. But then, something sparked in the back of his mind that made his gut twist up with guilt.
A few weeks back, Mary and he had been sitting in his living room. Brock had just made dinner for the two of them and soon they were letting their food settle with the help of jazz music and wine. Mary asked him to come to this Mass, and Brock’s initial response hadn’t exactly been keen.
“It’s all a gimmick that the Church plays on you, Mary,” Brock explained. “The only reason they want you there is so they get more money in the donation basket. They’re just as bad as any marketing campaign advertising Santa Claus or Frosty the Snowman.”
“How can be so cynical, Brock?!” Mary replied, not outraged on her own behalf but for his. “Christmas is a beautiful time of year! You get to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ with family and friends. The presents and the ‘gimmicks’ aside, it’s the most important time of year!”
“Oh yeah, and why is that?” Brock asked, disbelievingly.
“Because it’s all about love,” Mary replied, confidently. Brock snorted.
“And what is Valentine’s Day for, then?” he goaded, but Mary didn’t bite.
“Really, Brock. Christmas is my favorite time of year. I don’t know if I could seriously date someone who doesn’t see what Christmas truly means,” she replied, her eyes moving away from his own. Brock didn’t like the path this conversation had suddenly taken and sought a way to amend it.
“Well, Mary, maybe Christmas just means something different to each of us. Couldn’t that be a possibility?”
Mary sighed. “Couldn’t you just give Christmas one more chance? Have you ever even gone to a Christmas Mass or had Christmas dinner with a great big group of people who love and care about you?”
The idea of great crowds of people generally induced nausea for Brock, but he saw Mary’s eyes sparkling in the way that had captivated him the moment he met her. He couldn’t really say no to her, not about something she was so serious about.
“No, I haven’t,” he replied honestly. Brock didn’t add that he would like to keep it that way.
“Then, please, try it just this once?” Mary pleaded, her wineglass long forgotten as she looked at him with those big, blue eyes and pouting lips that made him want to kiss her over and over again.
He sighed. “If it means that much to you,” Brock conceded. Mary just smiled, even though the simple act made her face light up like a star in the night sky.
With that, instead of saying that he had to do something that would make him miss the entire Mass, he texted her, “I’ll be there soon. Keep the seat ready!” Even as he pressed send, he wondered how he’d gotten so domestic. No one had ever cared where Brock was going to be, unless it was his bosses at work. With a warm bubble climbing up his throat, Brock carefully put the car in gear and backed slowly out of the driveway before taking off. As he reached the traffic light to turn out of his development he called Benjy to assure he’d be there to pick up the stranded man.
“Thanks, bud, you don’t know how much this means, really,” Benjy responded and then they hung up.
Brock made it to the gas station in relatively good time. Benjy waved at him and hurried over as fast as he could with the snow impeding his progress. Quickly shutting the door as he got in, Benjy let out a shiver. “Damn, it’s cold out there,” he said.
“I noticed,” Brock replied with a smirk. Benjy laughed.
“Thanks a lot for doing this, buddy. They said they should have my car fixed by the end of tomorrow, since none of the guys are in today to work on it.” Benjy looked like he had a bit more to say about that, but chose to keep his mouth shut.
“So where do you need to go?” Brock asked.
“Oh, you can just drop me off at a McDonalds or something,” Benjy said, waving absently at the road.
“At a McDonalds? Why would you want to go there?”
Benjy seemed to blush, although it was hard to tell with his cold-bitten face. “I’m a bit hungry, to be honest.”
“Well, then, why don’t I just drive you home? You still live in Howell?” Brock asked, turning back onto the road.
“Er, well it’d be just so far out of your way, Brock. No need to do that,” Benjy said, laughing shakily.
“Actually, it wouldn’t be,” Brock replied. “I have to go to Mass, and your house should be on the way if Yahoo Maps doesn’t steer me wrong.”
“Wait...you’re going to a Mass?” Benjy asked, surprised.
“Yeah, what of it?” Brock asked, defensively.
“Nothing! I mean, I used to go to Christmas service too, I just didn’t know that was something that you did.”
Brock relaxed. “Well, it’s not. Not really.”
“Then why the sudden change?” Benjy looked genuinely interested, so Brock thought he should give at least some answer.
“My girlfriend is Catholic,” he explained.
“Ah, say no more,” Benjy replied with a grin. “I heard the Catholic chicks are the most frisky, you know.” Brock looked at him with some vague disgust. “What? I’m not saying anything bad.”
“You just amaze me, that’s all,” Brock replied. “So, I’ll just drop you off home. It’s
no skin off my back.”
“No, really, just...look, there’s a Seven Eleven over there. I could go for a coffee or something. Just drop me off there,” Benjy said, eagerly pointing to the left side of the road.
Brock went past it and when they reached the next red light, Brock looked at the man who was staring at his hands with a strange sadness he’d never seen on his friend’s face before.
“Why don’t you want to go home?” Brock asked.
Benjy didn’t reply at first and then he sighed. “Janet’s kicked me out.”
Brock’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What? She’s kicked you out?!”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Benjy, uncharacteristically, snapped.
“Yeah, but....jeez, and on Christmas? What is she made of stone?” Brock asked.
“No, she had good reason to,” Benjy replied. Brock waited for an elaboration but nothing was forthcoming. “So, anyway, going home wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“I suppose not,” Brock answered. Then he thought of something else. “Why don’t you just come with me then?”
“With you where? To church?” Benjy asked.
“Yeah, why not? I’m going, and if one of us were going to get struck down by lightening it would be me,” Brock said.
“I’d rather just go to Seven Eleven,” Benjy replied shakily.
“Nonsense, come on. It’ll be good for us. Plus, I can see if you can join me and Mary’s family for dinner.” Brock added. Benjy immediately shook his head.
“No, I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am,” Benjy said.
“Fine, at least come to church then. It’ll be warm,” Brock compromised. “I’m driving the car so you don’t have much choice in the matter.”
So Brock drove. The clouds were beginning to thicken and darken as snowfall restarted. As they went further out of town and into the far more wooded area, snow started falling faster and Brock was afraid they would drift off of the road.
“Maybe we should just turn around and go back?” Benjy asked, hopefully. Brock didn’t reply. The road began to wind left and right and as they drove, the turns were narrower and narrower until Brock nearly had to break full stop to make a turn.
“This has got to be the most poorly engineered road ever created,” Brock grumbled. He turned on his high beams just as they turned a corner and ran into a big black shadow. The black shadow made a sound thunk and both men yelled in surprise. Brock put a quick, heavy foot on the brakes. Both men slowly glanced at each other before looking back at the road. The shadowy figure was now at the foot of his car, so Brock put the car in park and stepped out to inspect it.
“Be careful,” Benjy warned. “It might be a mountain lion!”
“A mountain lion? Are you serious? We’re in New Jersey, what’s the likelihood of me finding something like that here?” Brock asked, then with a sigh he shut his car door and looked down at the thing he’d hit. “What the hell?”
It was like nothing he’d ever seen. It was furry, but looked nothing like any creature that should or could be roaming these parts normally. In fact, it looked distinctly like...
“Oh shit,” he said realizing what this was. “Oh....shit? No, I can’t actually be seeing this.”
Apparently sensing Brock’s confusion and distress, Benjy stepped out of the car and with a ‘whoop’ at the cold, walked towards the front of the car. “What’d ya hit?” he asked.
“Um,” was the only response Brock could make. Benjy looked over and cursed loudly, jumping back.
“Is that what I think that is?” Benjy asked, aghast.
“If you say a reindeer, then I sure as hell hope it isn’t,” Brock replied.
“They don’t even live in these parts, do they?” Benjy asked. They both stared at the creature who was lying still in the rapidly bloodying snow.
“We have to move it,” Brock said. “Move it out of the road so no one hits it again.”
“Right,” Benjy replied blankly, staring at the creature. “How do you suggest we do that?”
“Oh come on, just grab its....those hooves there,” Brock replied.
“I’m not grabbing them!” Benjy responded, “They’re way too close to the head of that thing. What if it comes back to life and bites me?”
“Fine,” Brock replied with a groan. “I’ll grab that end, and you grab the tail end, all right?” With an eventual nod, the two men gathered around the beast and grabbed it, pulling it off the ground on the count of three.
“Shit this thing is heavy,” Benjy wheezed. Brock agreed. Finally, they were able to rest it on the ground. “So, is that thing really a reindeer?” Benjy panted.
“I don’t know. It looks like one,” Brock responded, squatting down to look closer at the roadkill.
“You know, there’s a farm that’s about six miles out from here that has a reindeer come for their petting zoo every year. I wonder if this is it,” Benjy said.
“Maybe,” Brock replied, now noticing a bright red collor on the animal. There were bells on it that jingled as he moved the it around so he could see if there was any identification of where the animal might have come from.
Abruptly, the reindeer seemed to regain life and brayed a sound that sent both men scattering away from it. It wheezed and its belly showed it was taking great, heaving breaths.
“What the hell?! I thought it was dead!” Benjy exclaimed.
“Well, it isn’t,” Brock responded impatiently. The reindeer cried out again and saw the wound where they probably hit the large creature. He sighed, “I don’t think it’ll be alive much longer.”
The reindeer cried louder this time as if it were in extreme amounts of pain, kicking its legs as its stomach heaved a great gulp of air. It gave a great moan and tensed up.
“What’s it doing?” Benjy asked.
Brock stared at it a little longer as the reindeer’s legs continued to kick and cry. “I think she’s trying to get up.” They both continued to watch as the animal struggled, its cries becoming more desperate. “I’m going to try to help it.”
“Are you crazy?!” his friend asked. “That thing is going to bite your hands off.”
“Come on, help me,” Brock beckoned.
“We should just let it die,” Benjy replied. “Let’s go back to the car so it can die in peace.” The reindeer moaned again and Brock straightened his shoulders determinedly.
He walked over to the reindeer and gently put a hand on its side. The creature didn’t react except to kick its legs again hopelessly and groan. The big brown eyes of the suffering reindeer then landed on Brock and he knew what he should do. Reaching around her, he did his best to start lifting her up.
“You’re crazy!” Benjy announced. “Absolutely crazy.”
“Help me,” Brock grunted. “She’s too heavy.”
“She’s going to bite your arm off,” Benjy replied.
“She’s not strong enough to do that, she’s barely strong enough to stand.”
“Then, pray tell, why are we doing this in the first place?” Benjy crossed his arms in front of him, shaking his head.
“I don’t know,” Brock replied honestly, beads of sweat coating his brow. “Help, please?”
Finally, it seemed like Benjy decided there was nothing left to lose and walked over. “Go on the this side of her and maybe we can push her up,” Brock said, referencing to his own side. The creature continued to moan and kick. Benjy joined Brock on the right side of the animal. Together, they began pushing the large creature up on its feet. It took a great amount of effort before they were eventually able to get the creature on shaky feet. Brock hurried around and supported her on the other side.
“There, its up. Now what?” Benjy hissed, looking irritated. Brock realized that he didn’t really think this through. He didn’t know why it had been so important to get it standing, especially because if they let go the reindeer would fall right back over. Luckily, the reindeer gave them an answer before he had to think of one.
With a mighty groan, the creature’s stomach contracted and out came a great mass of red. “Great, we stand it up and it shits out its intestines. Great idea, Brock,” Benjy replied, still holding on to the deer. Brock looked back at the mess the creature made and suddenly his eyes went wide.
“That’s not intestines, that’s a baby,” he said. Suddenly, the reindeer went limp and fell, even as the men tried keeping her steady. She was too heavy and eventually found itself back on the ground. Both men looked from her to the now squirming thing that had come out of her.
“Gross,” Benjy replied. Brock went closer to it and saw it struggling with some of the gunk it came out with. “Don’t touch it!”
“Oh, relax,” Brock said and slowly approached the baby who was practically steaming as the hot membrane it was wrapped up in began to cool in the winter air. The baby finally broke free and shakily stood up, its legs wobbling as if it were walking on stilts. When it stood, still covered in slime, it gave a little groan of its own.
“She was pregnant,” Brock said in awe. “That’s why she wanted to stand, so she could have her baby.”
“Where’d she go?” Benjy asked. Brock looked over to where the mother reindeer had laid and saw that there was nothing but a collar remaining. He searched around and saw nothing stumbling along, nor was there a path of hoof prints in the snow to track. Brock picked up the collar and stared at it, turning it around accompanied tinkling of bells.
“Anything on it?” Benjy asked. As Brock turned it, he saw something embroidered in the collar itself. In scripted letters it read “SC.” Brock reported this to his friend. “Maybe it’s from South Carolina?”
“Unfortunately, that makes more sense than what I’m thinking,” Brock replied and stuffed the collar in his pocket.
“Well, what are we going to do now?” Benjy asked, the little reindeer giving a cry on its shaky legs.
“We have to get it where its warm,” Brock said decidedly and walked towards the calf with only a slight bit of trepidation. When he reached it, the little creature looked at him with eyes like its mother and gave a small cry. Brock took off his coat and wrapped the creature up in it.
“What?!” Benjy asked in alarm. “We’re taking it with us?!”
“Yes,” Brock said. “We can bring it over to the farm that you were telling me about.”
“But what about your Mass? What about your girlfriend?” Benjy reminded. Brock sighed and cursed.
“They’ll understand,” Brock said, hoping that he was right. “Come on, let’s get in the car.” The two men trudged over to the car again, with the small calf snuggled in Brock’s arms. Once inside the vehicle, Brock turned the keys to start the car. “Oh great,” he muttered as he tried again.
“The car won’t start?” Benjy asked. Brock tried a few more times and sighed.
“Apparently,” Brock replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone and saw another message from Mary. For now, he ignored the message and called Triple A.
“And, of course, I don’t get any service,” Brock muttered. “I guess I’ll call the police.” Benjy nodded and right when Brock was about to do that, his phone died. “Really?”
Benjy patted himself down and looked at Brock apologetically. “I think my phone’s still in my truck.” Brock took a deep breath and looked at his phone, trying to will it back to life.
“Mary’s been telling me to get a new phone for ages,” Brock admitted. “This thing’s a piece of garbage.” Benjy gave a half hearted laugh and they both sat in the freezing cold car staring out at the snow. The calf in the backseat gave a low moan. Brock reached back and tried making the creature warmer and gave the tiny creature his hat which it promptly shook off.
“You know,” Benjy said with a small, sad laugh, “Janet would have demanded we name the infernal thing.”
“I guess we could,” Brock said, glancing at it. The calf sneezed before sniffing around the backseat.
“Um, what about Jack?” Brock asked.
“You’re going to give a reindeer a human name?” Benjy replied, doubtfully.
“What? People do that all the time,” Brock defended.
“How do you even know it’s a boy?” Benjy asked.
“Fine, we won’t call it Jack. Do you have any better ideas?” the reindeer sneezed again.
“Buster,” Benjy said decisively.
“Buster? Why? Isn’t that a male name, too?” Brock asked. Again the reindeer sneezed, this time the force of it making him bump against the ceiling.
The men nodded at each other. “Buster.”
“Now what?” Benjy asked. The question of the day, Brock thought to himself grimly. As he rubbed his arms to gather some warmth to them he stared out at the road.
“Well,” he said slowly. “The church is a little ways away. Maybe we can go there and try to catch the tail end of Mass. If not, we could see if they have a phone to call Triple A. Or at least get something for the little guy to eat.” The car was silent except for the occasional whine of the reindeer.
“Is there any other choice?” Benjy asked, “Why don’t we wait for a car to come?”
“A car hasn’t been down this road since we hit the little guy’s mother,” Brock said. “It’s a generally unused road. It could be hours before we get help.”
“So there isn’t any other choice,” Benjy said hopelessly. Brock didn’t have to answer, because Benjy sighed, “All right, let’s go.” The two men got out of the car and Brock scooped the reindeer, Buster, into his arms. “Can’t the the thing walk on its own?” Benjy asked.
“Not fast enough for what we need,” Brock replied. “Come on.” And so the men trudged on. Luckily, the snowfall had ceased and it was remarkably silent except for the crunching of snow under their feet. The nice pair of loafers Brock had put on this morning were ruined and he could feel his socks starting to get wet. Still he trudged forward, his friend beside him and a baby reindeer in his arms. “How did we end up in this situation?”
Benjy looked over at him. “You hit a reindeer with your car,” he answered.
“No, not just that, I mean this whole thing,” Brock explained. “I’m dating a girl who wants nothing more than for me to meet her family and go to church with her. She probably wants kids, a dog, a house and stability where as I’ve always been happy just living alone in my apartment, having girls over once and a while, working at my fairly comfortable job. And you,” he laughed, “You always had Janet and wanted bigger things, all the things that Mary wants, and yet you’re with me trudging through the snow at Christmas.”
“I didn’t always have Janet,” Benjy corrected.
“Well, since I knew you,” Brock conceded. Benjy shrugged. “What happened, man?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Benjy replied. Brock, being the sort of friend that he was, didn’t push the man any further. “And anyway, is it a bad thing that you’ve found Mary?”
“No, of course it isn’t,” Brock said, although he was hesitant to add, “It’s just that my life is changing in a way that I never really thought of before.”
Benjy laughed. “Well I’d have to say, I didn’t much think that Christmas would ever involve actually watching a reindeer be born, so I’d have to agree with you.” The men laughed and Buster sneezed.
The two men walked for what seemed like hours but finally they reached the church. It stood alone in the middle of a field that was surrounded by trees. “No one will hear us scream,” Benjy said jokingly and Brock retaliated with a good-hearted elbow in the side. Even as the two men stood far away, they could see the lights of the church were off. They must have been in the woods far longer than Brock thought. Still, they walked up to the building and peeked inside the windows. “Nothing,” Benjy said with a sigh. “Now what?” Brock went around to the front and pulled at the doors, one of them giving way. “Come on, let’s see if there’s a phone or something.”
Benjy stepped away. “No, it’s cool,” he said, “I’ll stay out here. Why don’t you give me the little guy. I don’t think that they would want reindeers in churches anyway. Probably in the bible after not committing adultery.”
“Are you sure? It’s probably warmer inside,” Brock said.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine,” Benjy reached out to take Buster. The other man sighed and gave the squirming calf to him. “You should try to find a coat as well. You’ll catch your death out here.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Brock assured and went inside.
The inside of a church was dreadfully eerie in the dark. He could smell the candles that must have been snuffed a little while ago before people left. The white of the snow illuminated the small church in a dim glow, but otherwise the place was spooky as a haunted house.
With no idea where a phone could possibly be, he looked around at the pews and stepped up to the altar, behind which were Christmas trees all in a row. Around one of them were a bunch presents that Brock thought were probably for the kids of the church or something. He looked closer and saw that there were paper ornaments on the tree and picked one off. “Hello,” it read, “I’m an eight year old boy and all I want for Christmas is a blanket and pillow. Merry Christmas!”
Brock stared at it in bewilderment then looked at the gifts. Each one had a paper ornament on it with what the respective girl or boy had asked for and he felt something in his chest clench. It could have been a bad case of gas, but looking back at the ornament he thought it was probably sympathy. The kid that wrote this particular wish probably wouldn’t be getting his simply request this year, since no one had picked his ornament, and that made Brock’s chest hurt even more. He tucked the little paper ornament in his pants pocket before continuing his search for a phone.
He went through the door at the side of the altar and saw a tidy room and a phone. Punching in the phone number of Triple A that was on their card in his wallet, he told them where his car was, and where they were now. When they asked what happened, he said that he’d hit a deer (which was close enough) and they promised to be by to pick up Benjy after picking up the car.
Brock hung up. There was a mirror beside the phone, since this was probably where the priest got ready before Mass, so he inspected his appearance. Frankly, the man was a mess. Although it was freezing out, he was sweating from the exertion of their hike to the church, leaving revealing pit stains on his light green shirt and his tie was greatly askew. Glancing down at his pathetically sodden shoes and pants he laughed. “The thanks I get for trying to go to church,” he muttered to himself, and partly to the heavens.
Through the mirror, he was able to look out the window at the snow and check on his friend and was unable to hold in a gasp. Out in front of the church was a young reindeer, but not the little calf that he’d carried all the way here for this one was much larger. Had another reindeer escaped? It had Brock’s coat on him like a sort of cape.
Brock reached into his other pocket and looked at the collar he had and wondered if it was another reindeer with an “SC” collar. Turning to look out the window fully, he saw Benjy playing with the reindeer, but no calf in his arms and no collar on the reindeer.
“What the hell?” Brock asked and was about to rush out to see them when he stopped. Slowly, he looked back at the mirror and saw the reindeer, only the reindeer, yet when he looked back there was Benjy clear as day. “What the hell?” Brock repeated, a warning kicking off in his brain. Deciding to put that behind him for the moment, he hurried out to the front.
“What happened?!” Brock asked as he rushed out.
“I don’t know!” Benjy replied. “The little tyke got super heavy and suddenly he was bouncing around like this!”
“You mean this is Buster?” Brock exclaimed. “He looks like he’s almost full grown!”. Benjy shrugged as they saw a truck moving towards them from the solitary road in front of the church, Brock’s car was hitched in the back of it.
“Are you Brock Simmons?” the driver asked.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Brock said.
“This is your car?”
“Yeah,” Brock said, scratching the back of his head.
“Well then why don’t the two of you hop in?” the driver asked.
“Would you have room for our friend to come in as well?” Brock asked turning around to point out the young reindeer but was met with the sight of...well...nothing.
“It’ll be a tight squeeze, but I suppose. Where is he?” the driver inquired, shifting over.
“Where is Buster?” Brock asked. Benjy shrugged.
“He must have run off,” Benjy replied. They searched the near parameter but there was no reindeer to be seen. “Huh.”
“Come on, boys, let’s get going,” the driver said and with a mutual shrug, both men got into the truck and sat snug in the long front seat.
“Where do you need to go?” the driver asked. “I’ll drop you two off then bring this to my garage to assuage the damage.” Brock gave the man the address that Mary gave him the night he told her he’d spend Christmas with her family.
“This is a disaster,” Brock said with a sigh.
“Have you tried calling her?” Benjy asked.
“I don’t know her number off hand,” Brock replied, regretfully.
“That’s the problem with technology these days,” the driver replied. “Soon we won’t even know each other by name, we’ll all be numbers. We’re just tallies on the government’s file.” Brock and Benjy awkwardly grunted to please the driver who nodded approvingly.
Brock turned to look out the window and found himself looking at the rearview mirror. Glancing back at Benjy who was staring out at the road, Brock saw his own reflection in the rearview mirror but as he leaned back to catch sight of his friend, he saw nothing but the seat he was sitting on. What could this mean? he thought absently. But, in actuality, he knew exactly what it meant.
He remembered his friend being strange in college, and that Brock only ever saw the guy on rainy days or at night. As many times as he asked to get lunch with the guy, he always replied later saying that he was asleep and maybe they could grab a late dinner. Granted, most of them didn’t wake up until they needed to go to class, so it wasn’t a big deal at the time. Benjy always ended up with night classes, making the excuse that he always got stuck with the worst classes because he’d sign up too late.
Brock had a sneaking suspicion that Benjy hadn’t been telling the whole truth. But what should Brock do about it? Benjy was his best friend in college, and really one of his only friends nowadays, They’d been alone together hundreds of times without Brock being the least bit worried about his friend doing anything to him, except maybe snarfing up all of the Doritos while he wasn’t looking. Should he have worried?
He found himself watching Benjy now. The man looked tired and unbelievably lonely. Is that why Janet kicked him out? Had she realized what Brock was starting to vaguely put together and reacted badly? The bigger question for him was how should he react? If he told Benjy what he thought, he might make the man laugh straight in his face, or worse...maybe he’d violently retaliate. Brock imagined the man coming at him with fangs extended and red eyes.
Shaking his head, Brock nearly laughed out loud. This was Benjy! The guy who had just helped him carry a reindeer to the side of the road, and the one who had been by his side for years. Even though they didn’t keep as close contact as they did all those years ago, Brock would have never thought twice to help his friend if he was in need, much like he had done today. That was because, no matter what, Benjy was his friend.
And if that friend happened to be a vampire, well then so be it. It was Christmas after all. The driver finally pulled in front of a house that was well-decorated and had vehicles surrounding it and going down the street. They thanked the driver and Brock gave him his phone number after the damaged was assessed.
“Wait,” Brock added, quickly going into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, drawing out a twenty dollar bill. With that he also pulled out his ornament.
“Could you do me a favor? Go into town and buy what’s on here. It’s for the giving tree back at the church. I’ll pick it up when I come back for the car. Keep the change.” The driver took it and nodded slowly, looking back up at him with a strange curiosity. Shaking his head, he tucked both the money and the paper ornament in his coat pocket.
“Merry Christmas, boys,” the driver said with a wave and soon he was driving out of sight. The two men stared at the big house in awe.
“Is this her place?” Benjy asked. Brock shook his head.
“It’s her parents’ I think,” Brock replied. Benjy nodded and they both continued to stare.
“You still want to go?” Benjy asked.
“Yeah,” Brock said after a long pause.
“Well then, let’s go.” Brock glanced over at his friend who was giving him an encouraging grin. It was infectious and Brock found himself smiling as well, then the two men began their march up to the door.
When they reached it, Brock knocked with feeble confidence. When no one answered he sighed, gripped his courage, and gave three hearty knocks. “What if they can’t hear over the noise?” he asked. Benjy shrugged, helplessly, but soon they heard someone moving towards the door.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” Mary said, obviously not in the most merry of moods.
“Hi, honey,” Brock replied with a hopeful smile.
“Well?” Mary said, not letting them in as she glared at Brock who could feel his neck hairs standing on end under her hard, blue gaze.
“I swear, I tried to get to Mass,” Brock assured her. “A lot of things came up and I’m sorry, but I’m here now.”
“Why didn’t you answer any of my messages?” Mary shot back.
“My phone died,” he said, taking out the offending piece of technology and showing her its rather dead existence.
She gave a small noise of concession before she continued her assessment. Her brows furrowed in some concern. “Where’s your coat?” she asked.
The two men looked at each other, silently wondering if they should tell her the story or not. Without any idea how else to go about saying what happened, Brock told her about Benjy’s car and their own car trouble. Then they talked about the disappearing reindeer and her calf who also disappeared. Brock made sure to leave out the whole undead bit, since he wasn’t quite sure about it himself.
“So you’re saying that you hit a reindeer that was pregnant...in December...and carried its baby to a church where it grew into an adult reindeer and ran away?” Mary summarized.
The men stood there. “Yeah,” Brock said slowly and hurried to prevent her from slamming the door in their faces. “I’m telling the truth, please!”
“Of course you are,” Mary replied sarcastically, “Do you really think I’m stupid?” Mary asked, pushing against the door to shut it but Brock continued to fight back.
“No, you’re not! Which is why I am telling you in the first place,” Brock said.
“Brock, look,” Benjy said.
“Not now, Benjy,” Brock grunted.
“No, I mean you should really look,” he said. Brock looked at him and saw where he was pointing and promptly let go of the door which slammed loudly behind them.
A reindeer stood at the base of the porch, watching the two men with big brown eyes, Brock’s jacket still wrapped around it like a cape. It grunted at them and shook out its antlers and fur, snow flying from it.
“That can’t be...” Brock said, looking at Benjy. Benjy again shrugged and the two of them hurried down the stairs.
“You really gave up that easily?” Mary asked, angrily opening the door to see both of the men at the bottom of the stairs approaching a reindeer. “What the hell is that?!” she exclaimed.
“I told you, it’s a reindeer,” Brock replied, still keeping his eye on the creature which was happily staring at him. It approached him and nudged at his leg with its soft nose. “What do you want, Buster?” he asked.
“Buster?” Mary squeaked.
“That his name,” Benjy explained.
Buster grunted a few more times and kept nudging at his leg. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the collar he’d picked up from the reindeer’s mother. “Is this what you want?” he asked. It keened happily and hopped left to right a few times before continuing his nudge. “All right, all right! You keep doing that and you may poke my eyes out with your antlers.”
He unclasped the collar and bent down to wrap it around the reindeer’s neck. Once it was fastened, Buster keened again before giving a big, sloppy lick to Brock’s face, shaking off the coat, and bounding away. They all watched as it went into the night and out of sight through the trees.
“Well,” Mary said from behind them. “I guess you might have been telling the truth.”
“I’m sorry, Mary,” Brock said. “I know that you wanted me to see the way you do Christmas, but I think I might get it a bit. When we stopped by the church, I saw the giving tree on the altar. Just to think that for some, Christmas isn’t a time of presents and traffic, but a time to hope they can have a warm meal or a place to sleep...it made me feel...” he couldn’t put it into words.
“Stop it, you’ll make me cry,” Benjy murmured with a small grin and Brock affectionately elbowed him again, but Mary was beaming.
“Then you did see the way that I see Christmas, Brock!” Mary said with glee. “That it’s more than just the hype. You saved a...a baby reindeer by giving it your coat and you see what importance small things like food and a blanket can have. And you did it all without going to Mass.” She grinned. “I’m proud of you.” Mary bounded down the stairs and kissed Brock square on the gob.
“Please, get a room,” Benjy said with a laugh, picking up Brock’s coat and handing it to him once he came up for air.
“Why don’t you come inside?” Mary asked.
Brock turned to look at Benjy who looked at the house with a sadness, and looked about ready to say a polite ‘no, thank you.’
“Is my friend allowed to join us?” Brock asked and saw Benjy look at him curiously.
“Of course,” Mary said with a smile. “Your friend shouldn’t spend Christmas out in the cold. Come inside.” Benjy smiled and all three of them walked towards the house.
“Just one minute, Mary,” Brock told her. “We’ll be inside shortly.” She nodded and shut the door behind her.
“What is it, Brock?” Benjy asked. Brock watched him closely for a moment and put a hand on his shoulder.
“No matter what, Benjy, you’ll always be my friend,” he told the man honestly.
“Okay,” Benjy replied, confused.
“Even if you can never come to church with us,” Brock said, trying to make it clear what he was saying. Slowly, it dawned on his friend.
“You know?” he asked, fear making his eyes almost sparkle. Brock nodded. “And...you don’t want to run away? Stake me in the heart?”
“No,” Brock said. “I don’t care what you are, Benjy. Just as long as you don’t try to eat me...or Mary. Then we might have a problem,” Brock added with a laugh.
Benjy shakily grinned back. “I’ll do my best to refrain myself,” he responded.
“You should probably also hold back from the rolls Mary makes,” Brock added. “They have enough garlic to slay a dragon, let alone a vampire.”
“Oh, you know about dragons, too?” Benjy asked. Brock’s eyes went as wide as saucers before his friend gave a hearty laugh. “Got ya.”
Brock joined in the laughter as they walked inside the house. As the night went on, Brock thought he could hear the sound of sleigh bells soaring above the house, and a jolly voice urging them onwards.
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