The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

The music played over the loudspeaker as she ran her hand over the pre-packaged gift sets that lined the shelves of the retail shop. A few of her fingertips showed through her worn red and green patterned gloves.  

With the kids jingle-belling, and everyone telling you, “Be of good cheer!” 

She reached the end of the aisle and peered around the corner, letting her red and white striped scarf swing forward from her dark brown corduroy coat. Despite its worn appearance and the navy blue and holly-patterned patch on the elbow, it was quite comfortable.

She took another step forward to get a better view of the next aisle but still didn’t commit to stepping into it entirely. 

A young girl stood in the aisle alone with two blonde ponytails hanging over her shoulder and a large pair of glasses taking over half of her face. A box of red and green gumdrops was in the girl’s hand as she looked up at the auburn-haired woman with a dark blue beanie and corduroy coat peering at her from around the other aisle.

“Hello,” she said to the little girl as she stepped around the corner and into the aisle of Christmas-themed candies, “What’s your name?”

The little girl held the box of gumdrops closer to her grey and pink coat as she took a small step back.

“Tessa,” the girl answered clutching the box harder, “Who are you?”

She smiled, “You can call me Joy. It’s one of my favorites.” 

Tessa didn’t answer.

“Sorry honey, I thought you were right behind me, and Dad was on the phone, so I didn’t see—” A woman pushed a cart around the corner into the aisle and hesitated as Joy wiggled her fingers at her in an attempt to wave. It was always—nice to meet the kid’s parents. 

“Honey, come here and hold onto the cart.” Tessa’s mom grabbed Tessa’s hand without taking her eyes off Joy.  

Joy smiled in response.

“Bye, Tessa.” She called as they left the aisle. 

Tessa’s mom turned around once more as they hurried across the store.  

Joy watched as they disappeared down another aisle before she dug into her coat pocket and pushed aside her collection of buttons and strings before pulling out a small notepad. The brown cover crumpled at the edges and torn pages threatened to fall out. She flipped through the pages until she came to a blank one. 

“Good,” she said shuffling through her pocket once more and pulling out a pen, “Tessa.” She wrote the name as she spoke it. Her handwriting came out as a mix between cursive and printed—sloppy and a little too big.  

“Tessa,” She said again closing her notepad and putting it back in her pocket.  

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

Joy stuffed her hands back into her pocket as she hummed along to the music and shuffled through the store peering around aisles and jotting names in her notebook. The song playing over the loudspeaker changed just as a crash came from a few aisles over. Joy stopped writing, glanced up from her notebook, and froze.  

“No, no!” A child’s voice came from the direction of the crash. Joy closed her notebook and shuffled in that direction, singing along to the new song as she approached.

“—sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake.”

She poked her head around the corner and smiled at the rows of shiny, glitter-covered ornaments that lined the shelves. Christmastime really did make everything look better. Her eyes landed on the boxes of shattered ornaments on the floor. A middle-aged woman with her hair in a messy bun and a stained coat was crouched over trying to pick up the boxes and sweep up the shattered pieces with an ungloved hand. On the other side of her grocery cart, a young boy—maybe nine or ten—pouted with his arms crossed and a few shattered ornaments at his feet. Brown hair stuck out of a red hat and fell over his freckled face. 

Her eyes didn’t move as she stared at him. A wide grin spread across her face as she sang along to the song playing through the store, “—knows if you’ve been bad or good.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as the boy looked up at her, “—so be good for goodness’ sake.”

The boy reached over, still looking at Joy, and tugged on his mom’s coat as Joy pulled out her notebook and pen once again.  

A store associate walked into the aisle from behind her and started helping the mom with the broken ornaments as Joy backed up out of the aisle and wrote the boy’s name in her notebook.  

Grayson Lester.

“Bad.” She whispered and smiled.

***

Today was the perfect winter day. Snow fell in large clusters making the landscape a fluffy, white wonderland that made it nearly impossible to drive down the road over 10 miles per hour. But, it was well worth it.  

Joy pulled her corduroy coat close to her body and adjusted her hat. With every breath, a white plum entered into the air and dissipated. Multicolored lights lined houses, and Christmas trees shone through windows. Nearly an inch of snow coated the cars still left on the streets of the neighborhood.  

She pulled out her notepad and checked her list of names again. Grayson Lester. She tapped her pen on the name as snow landed over the paper. One of these houses was it—one of these houses. She bit her lip and looked down the street. But which one?  

Her eyes landed on a house with multi-colored lights lining the roof and a large blow-up snowman in the front yard. A small light-up Santa Claus and eight reindeer were partially anchored to a chimney on the roof. There it was. She pulled the sleeve of her coat back and glanced at her watch. Eleven-thirty-two. Perfect timing.

The street was quiet and still except for the gentle wind blowing the snow through the air, but Joy still peered down the street both ways before crossing. Her boots crunched through the snow as she crossed and went up to the house. 

A few more steps, and she had her forehead against the window. It was dark inside except for the lights coming from their Christmas tree and a blue glow from a night light in the hallway. A ring of fog formed on the window as she lifted her forehead away. She ran her fingers along the windowsill. Locked. The wind picked up as she tightened her coat around her and moved on to the next window. Locked again, so was the door and all the back windows. Great. She backed up and squinted as she ran her eyes over the second floor. All she needed was an opening. Any kind of opening—even a small one.  

“Well, I guess there’s always plan B.” Her eyes traveled to the roof. It wasn’t her favorite, but technically it was an opening.  

The brick chimney traveled down the side of the roof. There wasn’t much separation between the bricks, but since most people felt inclined to lock their doors and windows on most nights especially December 24, this wasn’t her first time.  

As she reached the top, she held her arms out for balance. The roof was slick with snow and it was still coming down. She held the edge of the chimney and looked down.

“You know,” she looked over her shoulder at the glowing Santa and his reindeer perched on the roof, “People don’t realize how small chimney openings really are.” She let out a small chuckle, “I wonder how they expect you to get down.”

Joy stepped up onto the edge, closed her eyes, and began murmuring the song that had been running through her head all day, “You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout I’m telling you why—” A light sensation started running through her body. The song wasn’t necessary, but it took her mind off of the familiar, but not necessarily pleasant, feeling. It felt like a fuzzy, almost unbearable tickle running through her whole body. This was why she preferred going in through a window, or even better, the front door. But she worked with what she had, and she technically didn’t need to fit through the chimney to get down, she just needed the opening.  

She squeezed her eyes shut as the tickling fuzz began to dissipate and only opened them when it had disappeared completely. Her eyes traveled around the living room as she stepped out of the fireplace and brushed the snow off her coat.  

Her heart leaped at the sight of the Christmas tree in front of the window. It was splendid, as were the gifts already around the tree. A plate of cookies sat on the mantle where the stockings were hung perfectly over the fireplace, already with gifts crammed in. She ran her fingers over the mantel and stopped at the third stocking. Grayson’s. What a shame. She reached down into the fireplace and grabbed a handful of soot and burnt firewood. 

“Merry Christmas, Grayson.” She sprinkled the black soot over his stockings and as an extra touch, over the tops of his gifts.  

“You should have been good.”

Now, she wiped her hands together to get the soot off, which bedroom was Grayson’s? 

She put her hands behind her back as she slipped down the hallway, looking over the doors until her eyes landed on the staircase. A smile spread across her face. Her hand ran over the garland-wrapped banister as she slunk up the stairs, “He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness’ sake.”  

She reached the top and pressed her palm against the first door down the hall.  

“He sees you when you’re sleeping,” She twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, “He knows when you’re awake.”

The door swung open as she cocked her head to the side. This was one of her favorite parts about Christmas. Of course, there were the lights, the tree, the carols, and gifts, but this—this was special. The kids, good and bad, all played their part during the most wonderful time of the year. 

She flexed her fingers under her gloves and came up to the end of the bed.  

“You should have been good, Grayson.”

Stuffing her hand in her pocket, she pulled out a brown string, two buttons, and a bright red ribbon. Careful not to wake him, she placed the buttons over his eyes, and the ribbon on his neck, and then tossed the string over him where it floated above his body growing longer and making a vague silhouette nearly a foot long.

Joy positioned her hands over the pieces, ready to spin them into existence.  

Her hands paused for just a moment before she began, “Merry Christmas, Grayson.” 

Her fingers twitched and the string, ribbon, and buttons contorted. Grayson’s eyes flew open as the pieces fell into place. His eyes grew wide and his arms flew up but were pulled back down by the string that began wrapping itself around his limbs.

“Hold still.” Joy narrowed her eyes at her fingers as they guided the sting and buttons into place. She’d done this a thousand times and more before, but still, it didn’t help when they squirmed.  

The squirming slowed and the panicked noises grew quieter as she directed the last of the string into place as stitches in the side of her new creation. She lowered her fingers. For a moment it was unusually still. Even the wind outside decided to give this moment a bit of silence.  

Joy couldn’t help but smile. This thing—this creation that she made—was going to make someone very happy on Christmas morning. She reached over and picked up the teddy bear that was now sitting where Grayson—or rather the boy that was Grayson—had been only minutes before. A beautiful red ribbon decorated the teddy bear’s neck.

It was a shame, but he would serve a much better purpose now that he would be making someone else happy instead of, well, making everyone around him unhappy and miserable. Besides, he had been bad this year. 

Joy turned the teddy bear around in her hand as she backed out of the room. She didn’t take her eyes off the empty bed as she backed away. The rocket-ship patterned blankets were ruffled now and there was a small indent in the mattress and sheets where Grayson had been just minutes ago. For a moment she let the cold emptiness of the vacant bed fill her with a light fear, like a hundred strings being pulled in her heart.  

“You’re overreacting.”

Hushed voices coming from down the hall snapped her from her thoughts. Grayson’s parents.

“I think I heard him. It doesn’t hurt to check.”

Joy slipped out the door and down the stairs as shadows emerged down the hallway toward Grayson’s room. She grabbed the end of the banister as she shuffled down the stairs with the teddy bear tucked under her arm.  

“Grayson?” The mom’s voice came from upstairs as Joy crossed the living room.

Joy grabbed a cookie off the plate on the mantle and held it in her mouth as she stepped backward into the fireplace with the teddy bear still tucked under her arm.  

Upstairs, the footsteps began to grow faster as Joy let the ticklish, fuzzy feeling fill her. Around her the room grew blurry just as two figures emerged from the top of the stairs, clad in robes and frantically looking for a light switch. 

“Grayson, honey?”

“Grayson? Grayson!”

Their voices disappeared with the rest of the living room as a rush of cold air hit her face and lungs. A puff of white air flew from her mouth as she clutched onto the teddy bear and slid from the top of the chimney, planting her feet firmly on the slick roof.  

She sunk down to sit on the side of the roof behind the chimney. Her gloves filled with wet cold as she listened to the muffled voices from inside the house. Wonderful. It was always more difficult when the parents decided to wake up and look for the kid.  

Joy settled down onto the roof. She glanced at the bright Santa Clause keeping her company as she waited it out.

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever had trouble like this? Probably.”

It didn’t answer. They usually didn’t.  

***

She didn’t need long to slip from the roof and disappear into the dark, snowy night. It was a shame the parents had to deal with this on Christmas Eve, but they’d get over it. She was sure they would. Besides, that wasn’t her problem to worry about and now she could get to the best part of the night.  

A smile spread across her face as she turned the corner onto Hawthorne Rd. The street was quiet. Most of the lights had reached the end of their timers, leaving the houses pitch black. Her coat and gloves were soaking wet from sitting out in the snow on top of Grayson’s roof, but she couldn’t help but skip down the slushy, snow-filled road as she grew closer to the next house.  

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” She twirled and whispered the song as loudly as she dared.

“It’s the most—” She stopped as her eyes landed on a small brown house just down the street. A thin Christmas tree was shining in the front window.

Joy shuffled down the road, causing the slushy snow to soak into her boots. She crept up the driveway past an old, rusting Civic and pressed her face against the window. Her eyes drifted around the room as she pulled at the window. Locked. As usual, people decided to lock their windows. She made her way to the door and jiggled the handle. And apparently their doors too. This time her eyes drifted up to the chimney as she sighed.  

“Hang on little Grayson,” She tucked the teddy bear firmly under her arm, “It seems we’re going up on the rooftop and down through the chimney again.” 

***

Fifteen minutes later, Joy stepped out of the fireplace, brushed the soot off her coat, and gave the teddy bear a good shake.  

“Can’t have you looking rotten for Tessa.” She scolded, straightening the red bow around his neck.  

She smiled again at the fine-looking stuffed bear in her hand. Tessa was going to be so happy when she found him sitting under the tree. Joy bent down and placed the bear between two other gifts already under the tree. 

“Hmm,” She straightened the other gifts to show their best sides before standing and looking at the tree.

“Much better. I’ll just take one of these,” she snatched a candy cane from one of the branches and stuck it in her mouth, “as payment.”

She turned to leave but stopped when her eyes landed on a door down the hall. Sleeping. Little Tessa was sleeping. Joy moved the candy cane to the other side of her mouth and crept down the hallway, opening the bedroom door just enough to see Tessa sleeping in her small bed. A dirty, pink bear was tucked under her arm. Stuffing threatened to sneak out of the seam of its neck.

“Merry Christmas, Tessa.” Joy smiled and closed the door before creeping across the house and sliding back up the chimney, singing as she went. 

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”