A little something as a Christmas treat for you guys; Three snippets from Angela's and Patrick's childhood Christmas. Thanks for your continuous support for my story and your many comments. Merry last day of Christmas.

1979

It was Christmas Eve and I couldn't sleep. Dad told us to go to bed early today so Santa could get more presents for us. Danny fell for it. I didn't. I'm too old for this but I tried to tell Mom and she got sad. So I was lying in the upper bunk bed, listening to Mom and Dad trying to whisper while they put the presents under our table. I asked for a Christmas tree this year again because Dad promised last year. We didn't get a Christmas tree. Mom plucked some branches from the nearby forest and pretended it was a tree. She even hung three ornaments and a bunch of bows on it. I smiled for her. But it wasn't the same thing. We still got our presents under our table.

Then my parents left and I closed my eyes. Maybe now I could fall asleep when they don't whisper yell at each other. I didn't know how Danny could fall asleep that fast.

The floorboards creaked and every hair on my body stood. I lay still, listening if there was another creak. Mom and Dad were gone, Danny was asleep. There shouldn't be footsteps in our trailer. Another creak.

"Danny?" I hissed. No answer. When I looked into the dark long enough, I could see the curtain that separated the bunk beds from the rest of the trailer move. I pulled the blanket up to my nose and crouched into the corner, a hand on the small window. I could still climb out when someone pulled the curtain back. Dad always said I'm fast.

Honestly, anyone could come in here when Dad was gone. Even I could crack the questionable lock at the trailer door. I did two times when the show took too long and I wanted to sleep. Dad had been very angry with me but the lock wasn't changed.

A loud smack at the window made me wince. I froze to listen if it woke up Danny before I looked out. Paddy stood on the metal trailer hitch thing that Dad banned us from touching. I frowned at him. He pointed at the latch that kept my window shut, almost reaching the height of it.

"Dad doesn't want us to touch that thing." I hissed at him when I opened the hatch.

"I'm not touching it," Paddy answered proudly. "I'm standing on it."

"Why are you not sleeping?" I snapped at him and refused to meet his gaze, so he pulled himself up by the frame. I ordered him to stop. He didn't.

"You promised to play today." He was very strained by holding himself up and you could hear it in his voice.

"You don't play. You cause trouble, says dad. Besides it's Christmas and it's late and when you're not asleep, Santa can't come and bring you presents." I halfway barricaded the opening with a pillow because he couldn't get in that way but I could still see him.

"I don't get presents anyway anymore," Paddy said it with a smile on his face that made me not believe him.

"Maybe that's because you've been naughty."

"Might.", was all he could say before his arms gave up and he slid down the side of the trailer again, landing on the metal thingy that he mustn't touch. Panting, he started again. "But I think that it's just that Dad gets too drunk to remember putting them under the table."

I needed to remove the pillow again to see him.

"But how can he forget. It's Christmas."

"I think that's what he wants." Paddy shrugged and balanced forward and backward on the metal rod. "Mom was the one who did the Christmas things."

I growled angrily. I knew what he was trying to do. Make me feel bad for him so I would break the rules and play with him.

"Move over." I snapped and let myself glide down the side of the trailer, landing next to him on the metal thing. My knees were already dirty from the mud he had left on the sidewall while hanging from my window. Good thing I only had a nightgown on or my parents would have noticed in the morning.

I crossed my arms. "So what do you want to do?"

Paddy grinned proudly and jumped off the trailer hitch. He offered me his hand to help me down and I hesitantly tried to reach it. His grin broadened and he slapped my hand lightly before running away.

"You're it.", he yelled.

"That's not fair!" I yell after him, carefully climbing off the rod by myself. "You're cheating!"

1982

It was the first year of winter break. Last year our Christmas themed show had plummeted into oblivion and we lost all our earnings from that year's summer. So for this year, chief had decided we would take a winter break and settle in a small town in the north. He looked after short term jobs for everyone so we could survive the 5 months. But because of that, mom was at work for the whole 24th and dad had a tough time recreating Christmas like she used to do. It felt more like he was desperate himself.

So in the end, after dinner, Danny and I were sent outside after we put jackets and gloves on so dad could clean the kitchen. We had abandoned our trailers for rented motel rooms this year that weren't much larger than the on-the-go vehicles. But at least they had a separate kitchen and two rooms with a door that I couldn't break into anymore. We lived like normal people, for five months at least.

Danny ran down the stairs before me and towards the benches in the middle of the U-shaped complex. He was greeted by Harald and two other carnival workers that I didn't immediately recognize. Harald handed him something that I couldn't see in the dark of the dimly lit lot but judging by Danny's grin it must have been candy.

The three men inched together so Danny could have a seat.

I greeted them with a nod when I reached them and sat on a separate bench.

"What are you doing outside? Aren't you supposed to sleep and wait for Santa?", Harold asked Danny with a laugh that could only suit a nice, old man with a white beard. Just like Santa. If I'd still believe in that.

"Santa doesn't exist and dad is overworked all alone.", I clarified only to be met by an angry stare from Danny.

"Don't say that!", he grumbled and kicked frozen pebbles at me. "One day you'll not get any presents and you'll see!"

"He's already 9 and still believes in these fairytales."

"Oh, how old are you then, little lady?", Harald asked obviously amused. I didn't know what was there to be amused about. Danny better grew up fast if he didn't want to be disappointed. If the carnival commenced this way, presents would diminish anyways.

"I'm 13," I said, sitting up straighter. The other two men chuckled and I scowled at them but I doubted they saw.

"She thinks she's grown up." Danny sneered into Harald's ear loud enough for me to hear.

"At least I don't believe in bedtime stories anymore.", I murmured.

"Oh! Speaking of which." Harald intervened. "I have the perfect story for a Christmas night. Do you two want to hear it?"

Danny was hooked immediately.

"Maybe Patrick wants to join us instead of standing around in the shadows like a ghost." Harald smiled and instantly, I followed his look and there he was. Standing under one of the stairs, bare hands in his jeans jacket's pockets. White clouds formed in front of his face with every breath. I looked away.

Paddy walked over slowly like a shy deer and sat on my bench, but not too close. His head still bowed. I felt my cheeks burn and I couldn't keep myself from a sideways glance. His hair fell into his face and the sky was dark but I was sure that there was a weird color on his face. I abandoned my glance again before anyone noticed and before I could get a clearer look.

Harald addressed Danny again when he spoke. "Do you know the story of the greatest tightrope walker this world has ever seen?"

Danny shook his head eagerly.

"He started as young as you are. But he ended up walking on a rope from one country to another."

That's how Harald had started the story of The Great Blondin since I was little. It had always been his favorite because the acrobat starting out as the 'Little Wonder' became so famous, athletes from all over the world stole his name for their shows. He was the impersonation of every carny's dream. Endless fame earned by fearless recklessness.

"Impossible," Danny said, completely caught up in the story and as if he had never heard it before.

"But I'm telling you!" Harald answered and continued with the story of the one and only way a carny can earn greatness: Risking their life. Danny's eyes glowed.

I couldn't follow the story. Paddy was sitting next to me, shuffling his feet, aligning pebbles and destroying the patterns he had created. I wanted to speak to him. But I couldn't here. Not before the men who find everything I do funny. On the spur of the moment, I got up and walked somewhere. I didn't even know where. Just out of sight.

Then I waited without turning around. My heart beat so fast. I didn't want to look back in case I was foolishly walking away alone without anyone following.

But why should he follow? He just sat down. Maybe he thought I left because it was too cold for me outside. Maybe he thought it was because he sat next to me? Terribly embarrassing variants of why he could have misunderstood crowded my head. I started walking again. Walk around and come back from the other side. It won't look weird, I told myself.

"Now I really think you just want to be away from me." His voice made me jump even though his lips smiled when I turned around. His right eye was swollen and dark. He still had stains of blood on his upper lip.

"What happened to your face?" I asked redundantly. Everyone had heard the yelling. This was not an open field trailer park anymore.

"Oh... You know. Alex got bored without the fair and it's Christmas." He smiled. It hurt my soul.

My feet walked closer to him.

"I'm sorry." I wanted to explain to him that I had begged dad to bring Paddy over for Christmas but that he refused because he didn't want to interfere with Alex's household. But that excuse wouldn't help Paddy now. "I hope there will be a better Christmas for you. You deserve it."

"Oh, I'll manage." Paddy waved his shaking blue hand like he didn't just get beat up by his father. "Only five more years to go."

"You can stop by, tomorrow I mean if you want to. Mom will be back. She always tries to make Christmas special." I offered but felt bad at the same time because I couldn't do more or anything worthwhile at all, other than brag about my parents who at least tried.

"Thanks," Paddy said but I knew that he wouldn't come if only not to anger Alex. Maybe he also took care of his father when he woke up from his jag.

I stepped close enough that our cloudy breaths mixed and I took his freezing hands in my glove-covered ones. "You shouldn't be out like this. We're not in the south anymore."

There was silence while I tried to warm the ice cubes that were his hands.

"Do you need a mistletoe?" Paddy whispered all of the sudden.

I stared at him. "What?"

"You're already holding my hands."

"I'm not holding your hands! Don't be ridiculous." My voice sounded suffocated the more I tried to sound unfazed by the prospect of a kiss.

I didn't remove my hands. Neither did he.

"It would make for a special Christmas, though." Paddy's lips spread into a weird half-smile because of the stiffness of the hurt side of his face.

"Absolutely not. Don't be disgusting." I joked and hated myself for reacting so negatively. I debated with myself if Paddy really just moved closer or if it's just the dark that played tricks on me.

"You're blushing." He stated and I couldn't take it anymore.

"That's it. Freeze your hands off, will you." I stormed past him and didn't look back. I was smiling too broadly to hide that I wanted to squeal with excitement. A kiss. That would have been something. A kiss to make Christmas special. A first kiss. I uttered a weird kind of noise, like a mew of a seagull because I couldn't take the adrenaline and heat in my cheeks. It was possible that I might explode before I could hide in my room and giggle into my pillow. I wanted to go to sleep and dream of this kiss, roll the thought around in my head. Reiterate the conversation until I'd doubt it ever happened.

On the top of the stairs to my apartment, I did look back slightly. Patrick leaned against the wall where I left him, arms crossed and a content smile on his bruised lips. Like he had been sure that I couldn't help myself but look back and reconsider my choice.

Maybe next year.

1983

It was the second day of Christmas and I was sitting in front of the communal Christmas tree they put up in the middle of the apartment complex. It was snowing.

Everything looked like the perfect Christmas day. The one in the cheesy Christmas movies. Dull music was playing. I was almost alone except for the two boys who looked like the same person with a few years of age difference. They threw snowballs at each other. Father had forbidden me from talking to them since they joined the fair.

Right now, I didn't want to talk to anyone anyway.

Everything looked perfect.

I was spinning a mistletoe in between my gloved fingers. Snowflakes got caught in my damp hair.

Patrick had been gone for four months now. No one knew where he went. He didn't tell Alex, understandably, but he also didn't tell me.

I don't know what hurt me more. That he was gone or that he didn't tell me about it beforehand.

In every free minute of this year's Christmas, my mind wandered to last year's and the missed chance of kissing him. I should have done it. I should have kissed him when he asked me to. Because he basically did. Maybe then he would have told me that he left.

My eyes watered again. Crying in freezing temperatures sucked. It only ended up hurting more.

Happy thoughts.

In two months we were going to start the fair again. Surely he'd be back by then. That's what Alex told everybody.

Only two months left without him. When he comes back I'd make sure to kiss him. Save he still wanted to.

Happy thoughts.

At least he's away from Alex for a bit. Maybe Patrick's with relatives who do care. Having a Christmas tree. Going to a Christmas sermon. Receiving presents. Normal Christmas stuff.

Alex had grown continually worse over the year. I didn't blame Patrick for wanting to get away. He had a black eye more than he did not this year.

I prayed every day for Patrick to be safe but even the prayers didn't help. My parents didn't either. No one did a thing to help him.

My nose burned.

Happy thoughts.

Next Christmas I will hold his hands and kiss him and he wouldn't have bruises. He would smile. We'd joke around. He would be safe. We'd be together. It would be a successful year. The carnival would make a lot of money, chief would be happy, Alex would stop drinking, world hunger would be solved and there would be no more wars.

Fuck Christmas.

1985

"He's still not back. But that's fine with me. If he wants to stay away, so be it. I don't care.

This will be the last Christmas that I sit around waiting", I wrote as I cried.

No one had heard from him in two years. Maybe he was dead. Maybe Alex had managed to kill him finally. God, how I hated this fair and everyone in it.