Wild Christmas was my debut novel, first published during the Christmas season of 2006 when I was a teenager. All these years later, I return to it with a fresh eye—re-editing and reworking certain passages while honouring the spirit of the original story. In the glow of nostalgia and renewal that Christmas brings, I’m delighted to present the first chapter in its newly refreshed form:
Usually December spoke for itself, with Christmas, the holiday spirit, and a sense of hope for the year to come, but this Christmas everything was changing.
I hope I can make it through this day, Dan thought. His head rested against the bus window, his breath forming condensation on the now foggy glass. He stared outside watching the downtown fade past him. The trees missed their leaves and the grass expressed brittleness in a weary brown. There was no snow to blanket it. To Dan, the buildings in the center of town were cold and plain, as if they were giant tombstones sticking up from the earth’s own crypt.
Why does it have to be like this? There was something different about the town this year, as if the town was missing the December spirit, the joy of Christmas, the warmth against the cold. It seemed as if the cold was taking over. Dan shivered. He folded his arms, as to hug himself, trying to trap any warmth he could from the rickety bus heater.
Snowflakes, delicately cut out of glittery construction paper shone in every downtown window, and gaudy plastic candy canes hung from every telephone pole. Little twinkling Christmas lights strung the small downtown together, as if casting a festive net upon the town. Maybe it wasn’t all as gloomy as Dan first thought. Yet, still, despite the decorations, something was missing. The joy and enthusiasm this teenager once felt for Christmas was gone. It had never arrived this season, never knocked upon the door of his soul.
Of course it was expected that the peak of winter would be very cold, but this holiday season there was a different sense of cold deep down inside his very being. Perhaps this was the result of all the daily stresses which had burned him out, or maybe it was the haunts of Christmas past that seemed to linger. It was likely a combination of both. Never before had he experienced such a feeling.
It just must be because I am getting older, he thought. Many times he was told by parents and teachers about the changes of growing up. He never wanted to hear it. It was awkward and uncomfortable. Maybe this is part of it. If this was because he was just growing up, he wanted it all to stop. He never wanted to lose the feelings he had gotten at Christmas when he was a child. Not only was Christmas a time of joy and getting presents, but this time of year also reminded him of his parents. They always went out of their way to make Christmas special for him. He could almost taste his mother’s buttery Christmas sugar cookies, but now his parents, just like the Christmas spirit, were gone.
It was five years since the accident, which claimed the life of both of them, but the terror of that day lingered in Dan’s mind like it was yesterday. His heart would race in mournful dread at just the thought of it. When the news had first hit him, it was like the sharpest coldest icicle in the deepest spell of winter fell right into his very chest. Despite all the shock and terror of that day, Dan felt that the closest he could get to his parents was through the warm childish feelings he always felt at Christmastime. This is what troubled him the most– for some reason, this Christmas, the feelings were gone.
He grounded himself, finding security and comfort in what he had in the moment: rest against the bus window, the hood of his favorite sweatshirt, and the warmth of the bus heater, even though it wasn’t quite sufficient. The earphones, which curled around his bright blond hair, played a familiar tune. It was Winter Wonderland, a song that usually sparked that unique Christmas feeling, but not this year. As the song continued to praise the beauty of snow and winter wonderlands, this teenager stared out the window at the naked ground. There was no snow. Even if the grass were to have been considerate enough to stay green at least, it would be more festive than the lifeless brown.
The bus, per its usual route, took a turn at the tall steepled church downtown. Out front of it, in the small church yard, stood large white letters grouped together forming the word H-O-P-E. There was not much hope this Christmas season for Dan. At least that’s what he thought. The only thing that was keeping him going was the singular hope which came from the anticipation of winter break. One more school day had to be endured, or to him, “suffered though,” in order for the school vacation to begin. Dan could sense the school day wouldn’t be easy, for it was loaded with quizzes, tests, projects, presentations, and the normal everyday struggles of a school day at Hodgeridge High.
He opened up his backpack. It was worn and torn, and the zipper only worked half of the time. It was time for a new backpack, but he didn’t have the time to go look for a new one with the extensive amount of school work that accumulated around the Christmas holiday, yet alone the money. Out of the backpack he pulled one of his own essays which was due. He was very proud of himself for being able to finish it, because it was a hefty twelve pages long. There was sharp satisfaction when he had finished the paper and was able to sign his own name to it: Daniel Bailey.
Sooner than he would have liked, he stepped foot inside the big intimidating fortress doors of Hodgeridge High, carrying his over-stuffed backpack, and project posters for his Math and Psychology class, as well as a report for English class. For some reason, this year, school felt like home. It’s not that it’s where he wanted to be, for it was not cozy nor particularly endearing, but he spent most of his time at school so he figured it might as well be considered his home.
He stepped up to his locker and dropped all his things at his feet, and then he quickly spun the combination. The bus driver hadn’t provided much time to spare. As soon as he opened the locker door, books fell out onto the floor, as papers dispersed in every direction. It was a genuine avalanche, a sign telling him it was time to organize the old locker, but there wasn’t a single moment of time that he would have to organize such a place. He began to stuff all of his belongings into the locker and take out the books needed for the day’s classes. Upon doing so, he found a note that had fallen out of his locker. He thought it was something he had written, for the handwriting was very similar, but it wasn’t, and it was written in some sort of particularly shiny gold ink- jotted as if in a hurry, but written with some sort of special intention and prestige. It read:
Greetings Daniel,
You’ve been good this year.
Your help is needed, and you have been summoned.
We are sending for you promptly.
Sincerely, Santa’s Helper
Dan wasn’t sure if he could let himself laugh at such a thing, or if it was a cringy annoyance. He questioned which of his friends would write such a thing. He had a suspect in mind. It wasn’t unusual to receive a letter through one of the three little slits in his locker. He had received many notes during his high school career, some were from admirers, some from friends, others from supporters and opponents. Last year Dan ran for school president, and he got both notes of encouragement and threats through his locker. Dan tucked the note away in his pocket and closed his locker door, suddenly to be surprised to find his friend Linzy standing right there. Linzy was in many of the same classes as Dan, and they had been friends ever since the beginning of middle school. Linzy was very unusual but in a good sense. She always had a very positive attitude and a random spontaneity about her that was both quirky and attractive. Today Dan noticed how nice she looked in her winter outfit. She loved stripes, and today she had green and red stripes all down her sleeves. A white fuzzy snow hat fluffed atop her bright ginger hair. Even the way she dressed expressed the innocence about her. She truly was one of a kind.
“So, Dan, ready for another school day?” she asked in a tone of voice that was sweeter than eggnog, and too much for Dan this morning. “Ready to present our psychology project together?”
“Yeah, I’m sure we can tackle that,” he replied. There was a brief moment of silence as they walked together down the hallway to their homeroom. Linzy occasionally glanced over at Dan, noticing the gloom yet fiercer determination in his eyes. She was always joking, always taking things so lightly, and she liked the seriousness about Dan. It was different, and it intrigued her. She also liked to watch his wild and fair blonde hair sticking up in all directions, dancing to whichever direction he took. She always thought he was cute. Then Linzy paused. She grabbed Dan by the arms and her face lit up brighter than it already was. She looked at Dan square in the face.
“Guess what?” she exclaimed.
“What?”
“This Christmas eve at my church I am singing a solo in the service. Can you believe it? Me, Linzy, is going to stand up in front of a crowd of people and sing.”
“Let’s hear it,” said Dan.
“You mean the song?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Linzy, uninhibited, dropped her backpack, cleared her throat, and then began to belt the words to O Holy Night. Though loud, it was proclaimed with such confidence that it flowed out of her in graceful beauty. Her singing voice was near perfect. Dan had never told her how much he appreciated her singing voice. It was just that whenever he heard her sing, he was sort of put into a trance, wondering where that beautiful voice came from, for it sounded almost divine. If he were to compliment her, it seemed so insignificant. How could his praise stand up to something so beautiful. Some of the students in the hallway stopped to listen while others scoffed at her, thinking she was full of herself, which wasn’t the case at all. Linzy just naturally bubbled over with joy and confidence from the most sincere and innocent wellspring.
Just that song seemed to brighten Dan’s day a little. Breaking through his hesitation he complimented her, “Linzy, that was great!” He was glad that Linzy met up with him in the hallway and that she was able to sing to him. The joy Linzy had this morning was beginning to rub off on Dan, preparing him to face the treacherous school day ahead. She gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder, “Go slay the day, and jingle all the way!”
Read more about Wild Christmas on my website: www.joshhodge.com/wild-christmas
Chapter 2 Coming Soon!
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