Today's Excerpt: The Unjust Judge
Chapter 23: The Unjust Judge
Milk jugs, each with hearts of flame, lined the streets across the older neighborhoods of the city. The patchwork of snow and yellow grass gave a sharp contrast to the golden flame inside the thousands of plastic luminaries. Honoring a Christmas Eve tradition that spanned back for decades, thousands of fires hummed inside the city of Baldridge.
Standing at the edge of the Friendly Acres mobile home park, Tommy hid his hands in the pockets of his suede leather jacket and looked at the flame-tinted roads across the street.
Cocaine Thayne let out a belch behind Tommy. “Why the hell are we out here? It’s cold as balls outside.”
“You don’t have to come,” Tommy reminded.
Thayne sputtered, “I ain’t tryin’ to rile you. I just don’t get why you’re out here. Didn’t you say you came out yesterday?”
“The church sings songs on the two nights leading up to Christmas. I wanted to hear them on both nights.”
“Are you plannin’ on actually goin’ inside tonight?”
Tommy shook his head.
“Whatever boats your float, Tommy. So what’re you doin’ on the 30th? Scratch that, I know you ain’t doin’ anything, so you’re comin’ with me to a party bein’ thrown by one of my college friends at the NC.”
“Sweet ass,” Tommy said. “I’ll think about it.”
“Think about it my butt! You’re going.” Thayne turned to the fiery candles that stood on the edge of first street. The fire was an inviting light to the elaborate old city and left the outskirts in darkness. Thayne laughed, “I don’t blame 'em for stoppin' there. No one wants to step foot in Felony Acres.”
As the last stretch of daylight spilled over the horizon, the two boys crossed the demarcation line between Friendly Acres and the ornate homes of the old city. A gentle glow hung inside Tommy’s eyes, and it remained as he gazed into the fire light.
Thayne lit up a cigarette. “Your ma still seein’ the Schwann's man?”
“Nah, that was just a fling.”
“Dang, really? How’s she holdin’ up?”
“Pretty great. We have a freezer full of nuggets that’ll last for weeks.”
Thayne laughed. “Nice! She made out like a boss. You still have any of those wings?”
“You mean the ones that gave you food poisoning?”
“Them’s the ones! A night by the crapper ain’t nothin’ for some fine cuisine.”
“Uh, if you say so. You can have 'em if you want.”
“Hell yeah!” Thayne shouted.
The last embers of twilight yielded the light to the thousands of glowing luminaries, which guided the boys through the veins of the old city. They passed a cathedral-sized house that had been dazzled up for the season. An ornamental Santa Claus waved to the rovers of the night, and it sparked a smile across Tommy’s face.
Tommy looked to his cousin. “Santa gettin’ you anything this year?”
“Screw Santa,” Thayne sputtered.
Tommy smirked. “The fat man never got me anything, but I don’t got anything against him.”
“I hate him.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You and your mom are better off than we are. You always get better stuff than me for Christmas.”
“You wanna know why that is?”
Tommy’s eyes narrowed. Part of him had always wondered. Neither of their moms worked, but Thayne and his mom always had nicer things than he and his mom did.
Thayne looked over at Tommy. “Anyone ever tell you how my stepdad died?”
“It was a car accident, right?”
“Right. Think you was a baby when it happened, but do you know when it happened?”
Tommy hadn’t, but he was starting to put it together.
Thayne continued, “Christmas Eve. Slid off the Manchester highway after goin’ shoppin’ for little ol’ me. Anyway, we get monthly insurance payouts and will till it dries up in a couple years.”
“Holy crap,” Tommy breathed. “I’m sorry, Thayne.”
“Today’s sixteen years to the day since it went down.” Thayne turned around to give Santa the bird. “Screw that guy. I coulda used Santa when my stepdad died, and hell, I coulda used him when it pretty much killed my ma too -- lord knows she ain’t been the same since.”
Snow began to fall from the skies, obscuring their silhouettes from the neighborhood’s sights.
Tommy put his lips together. “Santa never even got to know me. If I was lucky, Mom would make some Chef Boyardee and give me Dr. Pepper on Christmas day.”
Thayne grumbled, “Santa got to know me alright. He would get me the best toys on Christmas morning, and then didn’t do a damn thing as my Mom sold them to pay the bills. He didn’t do a damn thing when my stepdad died, and he didn’t do a damn thing when I OD'd last year.”
“Well, you’re still here, aren’t you?”
“What a gift,” Thayne responded, throwing his cigarette by an ornamental deer. “Man, what the hell are we even doing out here?"
Tommy snapped, “I said you didn’t have to come.”
“It ain’t that. It’s you, cuz. Why are you even wastin’ your time out here?”
Tommy turned a corner and looked forward. A final line of luminaries aligned themselves like a great hall that led to the Baptist church. Flames dancing in their casings, the glow swayed through the neighborhood street.
Tommy thought over Thayne’s question. “You know, they say the good kids get presents and the bad ones get coal, but what about the kids that get neither presents or coal? I never had a chance to know Santa, but -- I don’t know -- I like this time of year. I like seeing people being nice to each other, I like hearing people sing, and everything feels kind of magical.”
“What?!” Thayne shouted, laughing. “Magical? That don’t cut no ice with me. You told me you came here to this bench last night. You know why you ain't goin' inside?”
Tommy bit, “why?"
“Because you know all those 'nice' people wouldn’t even look at you if you walked in. They’d want nothing but for you to leave. Christmas ain’t meant for us, man. What are we even doin’ here?”
With Thayne’s bun of brunette hair coming loose at the seams and his hoodie’s deep stains still visible with this light, Tommy wondered if he had a point. “I don’t know,” he said to Thayne. “I’m lookin' for a sign, I guess.”
“One of these days, Tommy, you're gonna realize that all this time the sign was right in front of you, and you know what it is?”
“What?”
“That you should gone partyin' with me on the 30th."
Tommy hit Thayne on the arm. A line of luminaries encircled the church and radiated the building’s stone exterior. Across the doors of the congregation stood the bench Tommy visited during this time every year. A tantalizing aroma of chili and cinnamon rolls wafted through the air and traveled inside the boys’ nostrils. Thayne pleaded, “Oh, come on. If we walked all the way out here we should at least grab a plate.”
“Nah,” Tommy said, “they’re collecting donations for some kind of charity. It’d look bad if we didn’t have any money.”
"What's the frickin’ point of a free meal if you have to pay for it?"
“It’d be like goin’ to a restaurant and not tippin’ the server."
Thayne laughed, “I never tip the server.”
Tommy grimaced. “Don’t tell that to my mom. Oh hey,” Tommy added, throwing a pack of cigarettes to Thayne, “Merry Christmas.”
“You couldn’t get your hands on any Marlboros?”
“My mom got an extra pack of the stuff she gets.”
Thayne could barely stifle his disappointment. “They’ll do.”
“Whatever, I don’t know why you came out, dude. Can you just do one thing for me? Can you sit on the bench and listen to the singing with me?"
“Don’t get your panties in a knot. I just don’t get you, that’s all.”
Tommy tried to explain. “I never went to church or had any of those things that families do on Christmas. I’ve always felt like an outsider this time of year, so this -- sittin’ here on Christmas Eve listening to Christmas songs -- this is what I have.”
Thayne lifted his hands. “Well don’t let me get in the way.”
Shaking his head, Tommy walked to the bench and stopped in surprise. A plate wrapped in aluminum foil was waiting for them, with a single note attached on top.
Picking up the note, Tommy read through its contents,
“Come inside if you want seconds. We would love to see you!
Happy Holidays,
Pastor Jack Akins”
Thayne yelled out, “Hot dang! Want to split?”
Standing in disbelief, Tommy nodded to his cousin.
Singing began to echo from the congregation, and the first lines of a Christmas song echoed into Tommy’s ears. Sitting beside Thayne, Tommy opened his plate and reached inside. Tommy picked out a massive cinnamon roll and halved it as fairly as possible. As an orange glow nestled itself in Tommy’s eyes, he held out a gooey half for Thayne, “Merry Christmas.”
Lifting up an eyebrow, Thayne took his half. “Merry Christmas, cuz.”