Christmas for Dummies by Patrick S. (fun to read .txt) 📖

him.
Ryan gave her a hug and sat. “How’d it go today?”
“Okay. You know I don’t like sitting there for so long. You weren’t there to play our game, either, so it got awfully boring.”
Hemodialysis, a procedure usually lasting four hours, was necessary to filter her blood and keep her from degrading farther. Ryan tried to accompany his daughter on most of her visits, and they played Graceful Santa, a writing game he’d made up to take Lacy’s mind off the constant cycling of her blood. This time, he’d been unable to grab the courage to go in the wake of his mother’s death.
Guilt plucked a somber tune on his nerve strings.
“You tired?”
“Nah. Just a bit.”
“You know tomorrow’s Christmas?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t seem very excited.”
“I’m sad about Grandma. I miss her already, and she hasn’t been gone for a day. Don’t you miss her, Daddy?”
Ryan’s throat closed off again, but he nodded and took Lacy’s hand. Her skin was clammy. “I know this is rough. But we’re going to get through it, you understand? All of us. We’re a family, and that’s what families do. They stick together and help each other through rough times like these. Okay?”
“Okay. But I don’t think I’ll be here for very long.”
Of all the statements his daughter could make, all the utterances and curse words and sexual references possible, that one statement brought tears as never before. They poured almost as freely as if squeezed from an eyedropper, but he dared not turn away in fear of Lacy regarding the move as cold or uncaring. Hearing talk of her own mortality, the possibility of death, especially in an eight-year-old child

, made Ryan feel terribly inadequate as a man and as a father.
Her diagnosis of Chronic Kidney Disease almost a year ago had come as a shock, and nothing that happened after was in any way fortunate. First, he and Mara found out that they couldn’t donate a kidney: he was only born

with one kidney, thus having none to spare, and a Helical CT scan picked up the presence of cysts within Mara’s kidneys. While Ryan would gladly have sacrificed his remaining kidney for his daughter, nothing short of a gunpoint rampage on the hospital would convince them to perform the operation.
Next, her condition deteriorated so rapidly that she had to begin dialysis a month ago; she was in renal failure and in desperate need of a suitable donor.
And of course, Melanie’s sudden announcement of breast cancer had complicated matters even more.
“Daddy? You okay?” Lacy’s hand squeezed his and he tried to swipe away his tears.
“Honey, why would you say something like that? Why?”
She shrugged. “She told me so.”
That was not the answer he’d expected. “Who told you?”
“The lady with the basket.”
Ryan felt a sense of chaos slam upon him. He was inexplicably convinced that Maryann Glasser, the lady with the basket, was watching from the shadows in Lacy’s closet, or perhaps from under the bed. He resisted an urge to grab his daughter and run for the blessed safety of the family room.
“Where did you see this lady?”
“At the doctor’s office. She said that my time might be coming, and I might not be long in this world. Is that true, Daddy? Is what she said true?”
Their gazes met. He’d always considered her eyes to be the most beautiful he’d ever seen: they were the green of a bright dew-coated meadow.
“No. It most certainly isn’t true, and I want you to forget all about what the lady said.”
“So she lied?”
“Yes.”
“Lying’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Which is why you must forget about it. You’re getting a new kidney, honey. Very soon.”
“How do you know?”
Ryan forced a smile. “I saw it in my crystal ball.”
“There’s no such things as crystal balls!”
“Oh, but there are.”
“Then how come I haven’t seen it? And why didn’t the lady with the basket know?”
“She probably doesn’t have one. I made mine by myself. It took years of hard work.”
“Daddy

!”
Thankfully, Lacy’s sense of levity had not diminished even when her body did. To interact with his daughter was the one thing Ryan cherished more than anything else, and their friendly banter had been commonplace for years. At this moment, watching her face peeled up in a laugh at his talk of crystal balls, eyes a-glimmer, he would have leveled cities if it meant restoring her health.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. A solitary tear dribbled out of her eye. “I love you, Daddy,” she said.
“And I love you, Lacy. I trust my crystal ball, so you should too.”
She giggled. “Whatever you say.”
Ryan stood up and pulled Lacy with him. “Come on, honey. I need your help downstairs with lunch. You’re hungry, right?”
“Yep.” Her tear--the single one--had not given way to more, and Ryan was eager to occupy his mind with other tasks before he went insane thinking about things beyond his control.
Only when he was walking down the stairs and began shaking did Ryan realize her badly her comments had unnerved him.


She returned a few minutes before one o’clock in the afternoon. This time Mara answered the door.
Ryan was in the living room, playing a game of tennis with Eric and Lacy on the Wii. He heard voices and assumed it was merely a well-wisher stopping by to offer condolences for their loss.
When Maryann Glasser stepped into view, wearing the same coat and sweaters as earlier, he paused the game and pointed a finger at the woman. “You. How dare you come back here after what you did?”
Mara gasped. “Ryan! That is no way to speak to our guest.” Ryan had not yet told his wife of Lacy’s words.
“No. Lady, I let you into my home because you said you knew my mother. I’m beginning to doubt that you even knew her at all. You have no right to tell my daughter the things you did.”
Maryann smiled. “My words were true. I did indeed know your mother, and I would be most happy to prove it to you, if you would allow me to explain.”
The lights flickered. The TV went black, although no one had touched the remote. Strands of bulbs layered around the tree flashed on and off, on and off, in a stroboscopic array of red, blue, green, blue, purple, red, green, blue. A blast of hot air, as from a heated oven, blew back Mara’s hair and made her gasp. Lacy uttered a single grunt of surprise. Eric might have cursed under his breath.
Maryann walked to the rocking chair and sat in it, seemingly unaware that everyone around her was agape. Ryan instinctively reached for Lacy, but she had already moved to him and hid behind his body.
“Sit, all of you,” Maryann said.
Within seconds they had all congregated on the couch. Their guest studied them all one at a time.
“I am here because you need my help. Melanie wanted me to see to it that I came and showed you what I have to show you, and I intend to follow her wishes.”
“Who...?” Mara began, but Maryann’s gaze silenced her. She sought out Ryan’s hand and squeezed it.
Maryann said, “I understand you are at a rough time in your lives. You are grieving for Melanie’s loss, as I am. But in times of stress and heartache, we cannot forget what it means to be thankful.”
The lights on the tree flickered again. Ryan felt Lacy’s arm around his waist tighten, and he squeezed her shoulder. The room grew warmer with each passing second.
“Christmas is supposed to be a time for giving, a time for being thankful and loving one another. We’ve all been brought up to expect presents, decorations, and a sense of belonging.”
A breeze blew in from nowhere and spiked the hairs on Ryan’s neck. The bells on the fireplace jangled and fell silent, jangled and fell silent, as if on a metronomic click. Still the air grew warmer.
“You are celebrating Christmas for Dummies. A tradition so engrained in your lives that you’ve forgotten at all why

you’re doing it or why

you continue. It is like going to work every day; you do it because everyone else does and because you’ve been taught that it’s what’s normal. I am here to rid you of those perceptions.”
Mara’s hand became sweaty against his palm. Ryan wanted to speak up--it was his own house

, for God’s sake!--but Maryann’s words leeched all the saliva out of his mouth, rendering him speechless.
“Why is it that you need a specific day to give each other gifts? Why do you need a special day in which to celebrate life and family, and to spend a dinner together? Is it not something you should strive for every day, and is it not foolish to save all your well-wishes for a predetermined day with no relevance to your lives? Christmas for Dummies has pervaded this world and rendered humankind impotent when it comes to love.”
Lacy whispered something under her breath. When he managed to tear his gaze away from Maryann for a second, Ryan saw Eric with his mouth ajar, eyes wide, as if he’d laid eyes on a nude woman for the first time in his life. Lights flickered. Bells clanged.
“A true Christmas is a celebration of the love you’ve given each other over the past year. Forget religious purposes and traditional wisdom. If every day you give the gift of love to those around you, if every day you strive to spend time together, and if every day you can acknowledge your gifts in life, then

Christmas can be special. Otherwise, it’s a nonsensical holiday for those blind enough to require society’s implementation of