The Longest Night

It was Christmas Eve eve. December 23. I guess, technically, it was actually Christmas Eve when Dave had the dream. It was the night of December 23 when he went to bed, but the dreamed happened in the wee hours of the morning of the 24^th.

Dave had never been one to put much stock into dreams. He didn’t try to figure out the meaning of every part of every dream. The biggest reason for this is that Dave always had the weirdest, wackiest dreams. Therefore, he conjectured, they couldn’t possibly have any relation to reality. But the night of the 23^rd/24^th was different. Not in the sense of being based on reality. Far from it. But it felt so real! He dreamed he met Santa Claus. No, Dave was not a “believer.” He had more sense than that. But this dream was different. It wasn’t a bunch of unrelated fragments, most of which would be forgotten the second he woke up. This was a whole picture, from start to finish. Other than the fact that Santa Claus was the main character, it all made perfect, cohesive sense. Dave could not recall ever having such a sensation in a dream before.

It wasn’t a long dream. Dave dreamt he was at the grocery store. It was dark outside, so he knew it took place at night. It could have been early morning, but he knew intuitively that it was night. Dave was squeezing some melons, checking for ripeness. Suddenly, Santa appeared next to him. Not in a red suit. He was wearing faded Levis and a purple/orange flannel shirt, with brown leather suspenders and hiking boots. And a brown forest Ranger hat, like Smoky the Bear. Dave wasn’t sure how he knew it was Santa, but he knew all right. Santa was holding two rolls of Charmin toilet paper, gently squeezing them. Dave half-expected to see a skinny mustached clerk with black-framed glasses and a white lab coat appear. But that did not happen. Instead, Santa spoke to Dave. The old man spoke in a rather solemn tone. He told Dave that he knew his secrets; the things that he would never tell anyone, not even his wife; things that if anyone else knew, he would die of embarrassment. Santa didn’t get specific, but Dave knew that he knew, and he was scared. Then Santa told Dave that he would be stopping by his house the next night and was planning to talk to his wife about some of these things. Dave was absolutely mortified! “How? Why? Can we work out some kind of deal? Why me? Dave turned to face the man and grabbed his broad shoulders, trembling, feeling a mix of intense fear and anger.

Dave awoke, sweating, shaking his pillow with clenched fists. His wife, Darlene, put a hand on his arm and asked him if what was going on and if he was okay. He couldn’t tell her. Normally, he would share with her whatever sporadic visions he could recall. But for some reason, this felt too real. He remembered every detail and he was afraid to divulge the truth; she might ask questions. Questions he did not want to answer. “I…I don’t remember, he lied.” She was used to that answer, so she just rolled over and went back to sleep.

Dave looked at the digital clock on his nightstand. 2:11 a.m. Dave could not – and, frankly, did not want to – go back to sleep. He tossed and turned. He tried listening to his continuous ocean waves sleep track. He tried drinking warm milk. He took a sleep aid pill and some melatonin. Nothing worked. All he could think about, aside from the disturbing dream, was the even more disturbing deeds that he could never tell anyone about; especially not his wife. Eventually, he moved to his office and tried to putter around on the computer and then did a little reading. Morning eventually rolled around and he began his day as normal. His wife made breakfast and, to Dave’s relief, never made mention of what transpired during the night. She assumed Dave had forgotten about it, as he didn’t mention anything like he normally would.

They both went to work. Dave was feeling tired all day and it showed. His boss said something about his haggard appearance, but Dave shrugged it off, insisting he was fine. It was Friday, Christmas Eve, and he would be getting off work early. The rest of the day was uneventful. Dave and Darlene didn’t have any children, so they didn’t have a thousand presents to wrap. They didn’t drink, so they generally declined any invitations to Christmas Parties. They ordered Chinese food for dinner. They would celebrate the holiday with their separate families the next day.

Darlene was sleepy (from boredom) and wanted to go to bed early. That was perfect, as far as Dave was concerned. He had no intention of sleeping that night. This way, he could stay up without making excuses. He started a movie on DVD, so she wouldn’t be expecting him any time soon.

The movie ended and Dave was starting to feel sleepy. He argued with himself for acting so silly: “It was just a stupid dream. Of course it couldn’t be real. Then go to sleep, idiot. I can’t. The risk is too great! What risk? What in the world is wrong with me? You know what you did. You could go to jail. But that was a long time ago.” On and on it went. The need to sleep was weighing on Dave’s mind and body. It was only midnight. He struggled to figure out how to stay awake all night. He decided to go for a walk. That used up an hour. Now what?

Suddenly, Dave got inspiration. After midnight. Christmas Eve. Duh! “I’ll play Santa Claus!” he almost shouted. He went to the garage and climbed up into the rafters, where they had stored all kinds of junk that never got used anymore. He found the large box labeled, “CHRISTMAS.” He opened it and dug out his old Santa suit. He had played Santa Claus in his high school holiday drama, Daddy’s Got A Brand New Bag. This time, it did not require two pillows to make it fit right. Now it occurred to him that he didn’t have any gifts to disperse. “What would the Grinch do?” he thought.

He headed down the street, to the largest house on the block. They had four kids and owned two BMWs and a boat. Ducking behind parked cars, he worked his way down the street. He circled the house, checking all the doors. Everything was locked. The windows were all shut tight as well. It was winter, but the fireplace was not in use; that would have caused suspicion among the kids on this night. He would have to do things the hard way, he decided. At least it would be more authentic. Minus the reindeer, of course. He found a few cinder blocks and a five gallon bucket in the yard. That would be enough to get to the lowest overhang and from there he could climb onto the main roof to get to the chimney. Arriving at the chimney, he looked inside. Nothing but blackness. “Of course it’s black, Numbnuts. The lights are all off. Shhh! Okay,” he said to himself, lowering his voice, “we can do this.”

The plan was to ease himself down, pressing his feet against the wall of the chimney opposite his back. It should be a pretty snug fit. He lowered himself inside, holding to the top of the chimney with his hands above his head. Without warning, a brick came loose; became detached, in fact. The chimney was not as narrow as Dave had expected and he slid quickly, landing on the closed damper and smoke shelf with a “BANG!” Immediately after this, the shelf broke and Dave fell through to the fireplace opening – with no way of moving, up or down. The family Rottweilers had slept through Dave’s fairly quiet ascent on the roof. But they were wide awake now, as they ran into the family room and attacked the intruder’s unprotected legs. Their teeth sank through the flesh of his calf and ankle, crunching on bone. The taste of blood drove them on as Dave screamed and wriggled in vain to free himself.

Dave bolted upright in bed, as little Davey Jr. shook his leg: “Daddy, Daddy, get up! It’s Christmas!

After the usual gift swapping, while the kids were playing with their toys, Dave told Darlene about his dream within a dream. He was still shook. “It’s really odd, that you would remember your dream like that,” Darlene exclaimed, a little disturbed herself; “So, what have you been keeping from me?”