Bored for the Holidays

I never hated Christmas. I never liked Christmas either, but if you don’t love Christmas people just assume that you must hate it, so it’s easier to open by dispelling that idea. Not that this is often a problem, after all Christmas is only one day out of the year, and people generally mind their business well enough to not bother you about it until the holiday actually arrives. Today, however, was that day. Or rather, the day preceding it, Christmas Eve. Everyone’s at home on Christmas day anyways, so there’s no one to wish you a happy holidays then. If anything, today was the day people talked Christmas and what jolly good fun it was. This year was no exception.

It was Christmas Eve, and the clock had just struck 10. I was at my office’s holiday party, which despite starting at seven still showed no sign of winding down. This was no concern to me, however, as I had nowhere to go and no one to see afterwards. Unlike what some might expect, this was not the source for my indifference towards the holiday season. No, I was complacent with where I was in life. Twenty-five with a secure position at my office and plenty of upward mobility to take advantage of wasn’t something to complain about. I could bear not having a family to go home to the night before Christmas, even without my career to occupy me. Not everyone felt this way, and that was becoming clearer as the night dragged on. Half of the office looked anxious to get home to their families but didn’t want to seem antisocial in the eyes of their colleagues by leaving before the rest, while the other half looked determined to stay as long as socially possible rather than go home to whatever domestic stress lay in wait. This wasn’t my favorite office event, but I was thanking my lucky stars that I wasn’t stuck in either of the two camps. All I had to do was make small talk and walk around. Nothing of consequence would happen and I’d eventually get to go home. On a regular day I’d head back the next morning and repeat the process, but because tomorrow was Christmas I obviously wouldn’t be returning until the day after. Once boxing day rolled around I’d go back to work, do my job where nothing of consequence would happen, return home, and repeat the process all over again. Simple. I didn’t love it, but I didn’t hate it, either.

I had begun the party drifting between the drinks table, the snacks table, and my coworkers and continued doing so until I eventually wandered by the tinsel-adorned watercooler where I found my coworkers Neal and Daniel. They’d both been working for the company much longer than I and were more familiar with the office Christmas parties than myself, for whom this was the first, yet were still sequestered away from everyone else. They made a funny looking pair, with Daniel being a bit shorter than myself and much rounder while Neal, was so much taller he was constantly looking down at us both through a pair of plain rectangular glasses that wrapped around his greying temples. Both of their heads were thinning as well, although Daniel’s approach of simply owning it did him more favors than Neal’s combover. When I walked up to them they both quickly turned from their conversation and stared straight at me. Sensing a heightened level of awkwardness I wished them both a merry Christmas in a bid to break the ice.

“And to you, too,” Neal responded, raising his glass in cheers. He moved to turn back to Daniel, who was still maintaining his glare from when I first approached them. I sensed they wanted to be left alone, but as I was about to leave and continue drifting around the floor Neal turned back to me and spoke.

“Say, Harrington, how do you feel about this party?’

“Well,” I responded, “to be frank I’m not the biggest fan.”

“What, too boring?” Neal questioned.

“Uhm,” I looked toward the ground, “a little.. but I didn’t mean to offend by it, as far as Christmas parties go this one’s fine. It’s just that this type of event isn’t really my.. thing.”

“No, no, you’re just fine,” Neal reassured, “Daniel and I are itching for something else to do as well. In fact, you wouldn’t happen to be doing anything tonight, would you?” he said, a hint of a smile creeping up his lips. I wasn’t, and whatever Neal and Daniel seemed to be plotting was probably a good bet more interesting than this office party.

“Nope, nothing. You have something in mind?”

“Well as a matter of fact, I do,” at this point Daniel’s expression was changing from hostility to unease, shifting his gaze from Neal to myself and back again as his friend kept talking, “how do you feel about doing something a little... crazy tonight?” I nodded and said I’d like to. Something about Neal’s pause told me that whatever the two had in store was either really good or really weird. Either way, I wanted to hear more.

“Ok, Harrington,” he paused again, “how do you feel about taking part in a li--” As he was about to finish Daniel spilled his drink. All down Neal’s pants. It was meant to seem accidental, but to anyone who was there the intent was obvious.

“What the fuck was that, moron??” Neal hissed. Daniel whispered back “You’re going to get us in trouble. You don’t know what Harrington’s like.” Neal looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m afraid Danny’s got a point, we don’t know what you’re like. Perhaps my invitation was extended too hastily. Especially for something of this magnitude...” At this point I had no choice. My curiosity demanded I find out what they were up to, at the very least to not lose an opportunity to make my evening more interesting.

“Whatever it is, I’m down. I need something to save tonight anyways, so can you tell me what you’re both on about? The suspense is killing me.” At this point, Neal's face had broken into a grin.

“Well it’s good to hear you say that Harrington. We needed to know if you’re cool because Danny boy and I are planning to spend tonight doing a little…” Neal bent down so his mouth was next to my ear and lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, “murder.” My heart went cold. No way these two were planning on killing somebody. No way I was being invited to join in on a homicide. But the way Daniel was shifting his weight nervously in anticipation of an answer and Neal’s cold smile… no, these two were serious. 

“I’ll do it.”

“Atta boy, Harrington,” Neal showed his teeth as he slapped me across the back. I grinned, too. It was exciting. The adrenaline that shot through me at the mere mention of killing… I had to see how far this would go. “So,” I asked, “anyone in mind? Or is the point for it to be someone random?”

“Do you see Boris over there?” Daniel gestured to a middle-aged looking man with thin blond hair and much darker eyebrows who was currently loading up on pigs in a blanket from the food table. “Boris from accounting?” I asked.

“Not for much longer!” Daniel said and burst out laughing. To anyone who wasn’t part of our conversation nothing about Daniel, and now Neal’s, barking laughs seemed out of the ordinary. The noises themselves were fairly common for an office party. To any passerby Daniel must’ve told nothing more than an amusing anecdote, but of course what we were actually discussing was much more grave. In both senses of the word. That certainly added a bit extra thrill to it… it all appeared so innocent, yet was so decidedly not. So, so, not innocent.

As the evening went on and Neal’s pants dried from Daniel’s spilled drink (which turned out to only be water) Neal debriefed me on our plans. He claimed they chose Boris mostly because they already knew him and his patterns. Daniel said that’d make it less risky and if anything more fun. Boris lived close, so he always walked to work. That walk, as Daniel had learned in the preceding weeks, took him through an alleyway only eight minutes from the building we worked at. There, we would strike. He had no wife, no children, and as far as we knew no living parents. Neal didn’t either, but Daniel did, so they wanted to be extra careful to not get caught. Being relatively closed off in my time working there this was all news to me, but I suspected this wasn’t their first murder and they knew Boris well. I figured if they wanted to tell me about the others they would. Not that it was my job to know. After all, I wasn’t the police.

Boris left about half an hour later. I slipped out first, wishing a happy holidays to my coworkers as I left, then waited in the stairwell for Neal and Daniel to join me. I thought about how I’d never really spoken to them before. Sure there were snippets of small talk by the water cooler or as we’d wash our hands in the bathroom, but nothing to indicate this side of them. I wonder how many other people in the office were like that. I sure wasn’t before this party.

The end of December was cold, but it was still above freezing, so what would’ve made for a white Christmas ended up pouring down on our heads as we walked outside. The rain was good. It meant Boris, who was already several blocks ahead of us, would have a hard time seeing or hearing us close in. Daniel, Neal, and I followed him in complete silence. None of us said a word, but the tension could’ve been cut with a knife. Every time we walked beneath a street lamp I’d see Neal and Daniel’s wide, cruel smiles illuminated by the orange glow. Their teeth seemed sharp and their eyes mean under the Christmas Eve night sky. I could still hardly believe I was following two aging accountants I’d been working in the same building as for the past nine months to end someone’s life, but… that’s what made the damn so thrilling. The criminal aspect and cruel nature of the crime was nothing like how I normally was… a change of pace can be exciting, and this sure as shit was one.

Eventually, Boris entered got close enough to see and not long after turned into an alleyway. At this point we’d been walking for about seven minutes and were closing in to hardly a hundred feet behind him. Neal held up his hand, calling for us to stop at the end of the sidewalk. He paused for a moment, then nodded. We all stepped into the alley, shoulder to shoulder. Our pace quickened as we hurried to reach Boris, whose shape I could only just make out in the shadow of the alley. It was dark, and that must’ve been why I didn’t see the metal pipe in front of me. I tripped on it and it clattered across the ground. Boris heard it, and turned around.

You don’t often think about how much the lights from the city are reflected in pools of water when it rains. Yet that’s where I first saw the flashing red and blue lights of the cop cars as they pulled up on either side of the alley. I guess we must’ve been too loud and someone had called 911. We’d been caught. Not that it really mattered anymore, it’s not like you can bring people back from the dead. Even if you could after what we’d done to Boris it’d just be inhumane. No, the deed had been done. I looked at his body from the back window of the police car I’d been shoved in and marveled at what just fifteen minutes can do to the course of someone’s life. In that amount of time one man’s had ended and three had been irreversibly changed. The paramedics zipped up the body bag and placed it on a stretcher, wheeling it into the back of their vehicle. I turned my attention to my lap and noticed for the first time just how much blood was on my cuffs. There was blood on my pants, too. There was almost certainly blood on that metal pipe, but I’d dropped it as soon as the police pulled their guns. I heard one officer outside the car talking to another about how “it never gets easier” and we’d committed the crime “on Christmas Eve, of all days.” I didn’t understand that. What made Christmas so special that a murder becomes worse if it happens around the day? It certainly wasn’t any different in the eyes of the law, and Boris was dead either way, so why treat it like it is? Like any social construct it just felt so fragile and absurd. Besides, with the exception of today my past twenty four Christmases had felt exceedingly unremarkable. I guess there was just some part of Christmas, extending beyond even the religious aspect, that was lost on me but understood by everyone else. Perhaps, I thought as the car began pulling away, that’s why I never really liked Christmas.