Saints and Sinners – A Christmas Fable (Part Two of Two)

Part One at https://www.abctales.com/story/marandina/saints-and-sinners-christmas-fa...

Saints and Sinners – A Christmas Fable (Part Two of Two)

“So, pray tell your intentions for this wretch.” the goat-creature peered at the angel, mischievously. It leered then waved its hands theatrically in the air, carving out a spell of some kind. Moments later Bill reached down and felt cold steel in a holster on the calf of his leg. He examined the object closer and realised it was a gun - a Beretta Pico. “What the….” He muttered to himself with no idea where the weapon had come from. The demon laughed throwing his arms out wide as though sucking in the world in one tumultuous embrace.

“Let me see….” Said the Devil’s counterpart as he eyed the man slouched on the bar stool. The divine being closed his eyes and concentrated. He could see into the banker’s memories. As he did so, Bill felt a gentle pulse inside his head. It distracted him from what was going on around. It felt like someone was rewinding his day….

…He could see himself walking along a sidewalk, snow and slush was all around. People passed by, some with newspapers under arms, one man wearing a fedora with a feather poking upwards at the side of his hat. Bill pulled his beige, rain mac tighter. It was a cold one tonight. He could hear a bell ringing. Car horns blared as the hurly burly of city life wallowed in its din. He could see a man dressed as Santa Claus appealing for donations. In the road, cars inched forward in columns; many were yellow cabs working the streets.

Bill stopped for a second. He knew where he was headed and what he wanted to do but, for some reason, he needed to take a break for a moment. He found himself standing outside a shop doorway. The store was closed. It was a liquor store. On the floor, covered with a blanket, was a man. The city worker looked down and saw a freezing homeless person, head folded into body, rocking gently back and forth. A cardboard box to his side had a few coins in it. Taking a step closer, Bill loomed over the desolate figure on the floor. He felt curious but bereft of sympathy. It was just another bum. There were many more like this one. The man curled in a ball lifted his head above his tatty covering and stared directly at Bill. His face was gaunt with pockmarks on his cheeks. His hair was blonde and unkempt, his eyes tired and sad. He opened his mouth to speak only for his voyeur to turn and walk off.

These memories were so vivid. He wasn’t sure why he had acknowledged a hobo. He had walked past so many. Why did this one suddenly feel so different? He recalled the man’s face as the deadbeat had looked up. It was the face of someone with nothing, someone who had probably lost everything. The down-and-out had looked so desperate.

Bill felt the man’s soul seeping into the asphalt like snow melting. For the first time, he felt a tinge of guilt. He had just walked off when he could have tried to help even it just meant leaving a few cents. He hadn’t. He had done nothing. As usual. Maybe it was small wonder life had been so unkind to him. He wanted to go back and see the man again. He had to. He had to do something. Now.

The demon glared at the angel. “Ah, very clever. I see you are using regret; pulling on the poor soul’s conscience when his essence is destined to be mine. So what happens when you realise that there is nothing to be done to change the man’s future? This pauper will remain destitute. What then?”

The divine being just smiled as Bill stood up and tossed a few dollar bills onto the counter.

“Have a great Christmas, sir.” Ted the barman offered.

The banker picked up his coat, turned and left. Two spectral figures trailed after him, floating in their own ether, invisible to all but those with a psychic disposition.

****

Bill exited through the glass doors at the front of the restaurant. He found himself striding along Bedford Avenue once more. Flakes of snow drifted down from the dark sky above. Snow lay in uneven piles having been shovelled there by shopkeepers. It was still busy with passers-by heading off in different directions. It was only a few minutes’ walk to get back to where the down-and-out was camped. Bill’s pace quickened as he swerved between those coming from the opposite direction. As well as the sounds of footsteps crunching on snow, the steady drone of traffic created a cacophony of noise. He passed rows of shop fronts, one of which was an electrical store with new televisions for sale in the window. On all of the screens was a black and white picture of James Stewart running along a high street in the snow, arms aloft, shouting “Merry Christmas!” It looked like he was hurtling from one TV set to the next in a kind of seasonal, optical illusion.

The banker arrived back at the spot where he had encountered the homeless man. He recognised the store and the alcove that made up the entrance to the front door. The front window was now shuttered but the niche that allowed egress from the sidewalk to the front door wasn’t. It was as though space was being left for unfortunates to bed down. Bill peered into the gloom. The man that had sat scrunched into a ball was gone.

A handbell could be heard ringing nearby. As it peeled, the words “Merry Christmas” followed by “Ho ho ho” were clearly discernible above the noise of passing cars. Bill looked further on down the sidewalk and saw that the Santa was still there, appealing for yet more donations with a brass pot sitting inside a metal ring on a tripod. He trampled through new snow to speak to the man in the red and white, Father Christmas outfit.

“Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt your fund raising but did you happen to notice a homeless soul in that doorway at the liquor store across the street?” Bill pointed with his finger.

The man dressed as Santa tugged at his false, white beard in thought.

“Now you come to mention it, there was someone there but I think that was maybe a few days ago.”

Bill looked dazed. “Are you sure it wasn’t earlier tonight? I remember looking straight at someone there not an hour ago.” Both men were having to raise their voices about the noise of the traffic.

“Nope. I’m sure I would have remembered seeing someone, friend. Now I really must get on. Care to leave a donation for the children’s orphanage? The Mercy Home for Children do such great work all year round.” The eyes of the man dressed as Santa Claus drifted in the direction of the collection pot.

The office worker groped in his pockets and lobbed a few coins into the brass bowl. At that, he made his way back and found himself, once more, standing in front of Khan’s Liquor Store. He wandered into the alcove and knelt down, trying to imagine what it must have been like for the man that he had seen there. As his thoughts meandered, he found himself feeling drowsy. He wanted to sleep. He felt himself dozing off, all ponderings now slipping away as he entered a dreamless state. He fell back gently, his back leaning against a wall, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow.

“You are just delaying the inevitable, my friend.” The imp watched the descent into slumber with interest. Both creatures now hovered inches above the sidewalk, staring at the banker.

“He can’t stay asleep forever. And when he wakes, my chore for this evening will come to an inglorious end.”

“Life is a gift, one not to be given away frivolously. There is good in every one.” The angel had a serene look on its face.

“So what do we do now?” Asked the malevolent devil.

“We wait, of course.” And so they waited.

****

Bill didn’t know how long he had slept for. It may have been minutes; it may have been longer. He pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket. It said 00:03. He remembered leaving O’Malley’s at 9pm so he had been asleep for a few hours. It was Christmas Day. He slowly stood up, his muscles ached from cold ice water that had infiltrated the seat of his pants. He could smell alcohol emanating from his pores. Rubbing his eyes, he remembered his mission and bent down again to check that the handgun was still there. It was. If ever there was an apt time to end things, maybe this was it. Church bells chimed in the distance.

The sidewalk was less busy now although cars, taxis and the occasional bus still roamed the roads. He knelt down again to gather his thoughts. A shadow fell and he looked up as the shape of a man came into view. The newcomer stood over him and peered. Bill squinted and the features of the down-and-out swam into focus.

“Are you alright, sir? This is no place for anyone to sleep.” The pauper’s voice was soft and only just audible above the other noises of early morning. He held out a hand and Bill just stared at it.

“I have used this doorway many times myself. I was fortunate to be helped by a man who had been brought up at a nearby orphanage. He put me in touch with an outreach worker a few days ago and I now stay at a hostel most nights. Should I put you in contact with him?”

Bill processed these words and was taken aback that the man thought he was homeless. He considered putting him straight; that actually he was an affluent, successful city worker that didn’t need anyone’s help. And then he remembered the events of the last few months and where they had taken him. Bill looked again at the man leaning over him. He noted the kindness in his eyes, prominent crow’s feet a physical symbol of the stress and worry he had probably experienced over the years.

“Oh no, that’s OK. Thank you. I will be just fine. A merry Christmas to you.” The banker rose and moved to take the stranger’s hands in his own. Before he could grip the other man’s hand, the kindly soul gracefully retracted his arm, gave one final, enigmatic look and spirited away into the freezing fog that had descended. All Bill could do was watch the man vanish into mist like a ghost in the night. For a second he questioned whether the encounter had taken place at all. Everything felt oddly ethereal.

Bill checked again for the presence of the gun. He took the weapon from its holster and held it aloft. Shuffling out onto the sidewalk, he hunkered down next to a storm drain. Looking up, he pointed the gun at the side of his temple. Bill closed his eyes.

The imp watched on and a wide grin broke out on its face. The angel was also staring at the scene unfolding in front of the two beings. The devil’s excitement was visible as he shook with anticipation. Both beings drew in breath as they awaited an outcome.

Bill thought about the fiancé that had left him. He remembered the trial waiting for him at the bank. He recalled the Santa collecting for the orphanage and considered the offer of help from the down-and-out who appeared to have recently been saved from a life of perpetual homelessness. Events and images flickered behind his eyes. He needed to decide. It was time to choose his fate.  Just…squeeze…the…trigger. It should be so easy.

The banker’s grip loosened and the gun fell from his hand. His wrist had gone limp and the weapon toppled onto the grate on top of the drain. It clanged against the metal, bounced and clattered into the gap that usually swallowed rain water. Bill opened his eyes once more. He chose life after all. There was good will and kindness to be found. Even in the darkest of places.

The two entities stared at each other. One of them beamed and nodded knowingly, as they both dissipated into eternity once again. An observer watching closely would have seen a trail left by what appeared to be two fireflies carving a barely noticeable path in the air.

Bill strained his eyes and peered down the street at where the man dressed as Santa had been. The fog prevented him from seeing clearly but he knew that the charity collector had gone. He would be with his family now, his kids waiting for the real thing to come; a mythical man born of lore bringing presents when maybe the biggest gift of all was life itself.

Blue lights flashed colouring the snow a translucent azure. An NYPD police car pulled up and a cop dressed in black uniform, peaked cap with a gun holstered on his hip got out of the passenger side door.

“Everything alright, sir? Should you be out in this weather at this time of night?”

Bill stood up, looked into the black sky and smiled. He turned his gaze to the concerned policeman and said “I will be just fine, officer. Just fine.”

Image free to use at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Claus#/media/File:20121123_SantaClau...