Merry Little ChristmasbySaxon_Hart©
This isn't really the story I wanted to break into Loving Wives with. But when I realized that the holiday contest was coming, I couldn't resist writing this tale for it. But as the deadline approaches I realize I want to not rush this and make it a better tale. There is violence, but not enough to rival most network television. There is also no sex in this tale. Please enjoy and comment, and have a wonderful Holiday Season. This is fiction; these people exist only in my head.
I want to say a very special THANK YOU to indigoharvey for her adept editing prowess on this piece, and many more pieces to come....SH
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Make the Yule time bright. From now on our troubles will be out of sight..."
Fuck Christmas! Fuck the holidays! What a kick in the fuckin teeth! The next fucking jerk off that spews the carbon copy "Merry Christmas" or "Happy holidays" bullshit out of their cock slurper to me, will likely get a two word response, and I don't mean "You too!"
From somewhere off to the east I could hear the refrains of the song, most likely from the ice rink in the plaza. The ice rink obviously full of happy assholes and whores all rubbing elbows and cocks and deluding themselves into believing that everything would be merry and bright. Fuck them too!
Christmas from now on won't be a joyous and happy time for me. It'll only serve to remind me of how my life totally fell apart in the span of a month. Perhaps a small part of me wished I could go back to being "Joe Clueless Fuck" that at the beginning of fall, and thought all would be merry and bright. But I think in the back of my mind, even then, I knew all was not what it appeared to be on the surface. Which lead me up to where I am right now. I was laying prone on a fourth story balcony of an apartment overlooking the front entrance to the Plaza Hotel and Convention Center. The tenants of the apartment had flown to New York for the holidays so I knew I wouldn't be disturbed. Two stories below mounted to another balcony rail was a large flash strobe that would illuminate the entire front of the hotel.
I looked through the viewfinder for the umpteenth time since I arrived an hour ago to be sure the lenses hadn't frosted or fogged up. The low light lens set up was well worth the money, for even at five hundred yards away, well five hundred fifteen to the furthest column, I could pick out detail of the wood grain on the columns supporting the overhand covering the front entrance. Everything was set, so all I had to do was wait for my wife of six years, and her boyfriend to leave their company Christmas party to go to the Value Inn for their post party tryst.
I am Martin Fischer. I am a 32 year old maintenance technician at a factory that builds railroad freight cars. I have worked at the factory for eight years. I started work there two days after I arrived here in Santa Fe. I came from Long Beach with the clothes on my back plus a few spares, and enough money to eat for a week, and keep fuel in my 2000 Harley Davidson Dyna Glide for a week's worth of job searching.
I had been at the plant for about two months as a welder, when a machine broke down and our regular maintenance guys weren't around. I spent about an hour tinkering with it and had it fixed and the assembly line running again. When the head of the maintenance department found out I was called into carpet land for an ass chewing. I was lectured for over an hour on the dangers of what I had done, and the OSHA implications. Just as I thought they were going to fire me, he asked if I had any experience repairing the kinds of machines and tools we had in house.
I told him I hadn't, but had always been able to figure things out by taking them apart. He then offered me a position in the maintenance department and sent me to a school for six months to learn how to work on the computer controlled equipment. When I was done with the training I was making about ten bucks an hour more than I had as a welder.
One of the first guys I met in the department was Jarred Walker. The guy knew every piece of equipment in the factor like the back of his hand. Usually when there was a problem in the office, Jarred was the one to handle it, unless it was plumbing or electrical, then it was my problem to deal with.
One day as Jarred and I as well as half of our staff of ten were working on a straddle crane that needed to be back online ASAFP, that's technical jargon for As Soon As Fucking Possible, we got a page from the office. I was the closest to a phone so I called up to see what the deal was. It seems that one of the new girls had managed to jam the copier so bad they couldn't clear it. Jarred was busy on the crane so I got to go fix the copier.
As I was working on the copier, on of the girls, a bleach blonde with large heavy boobs, came up and asked me why Jarred wasn't here. I told her what he was doing. Then she asked me, "We are having a party tonight for one of the finance girls. If you're not too busy would you like to come?"
"Where is this party?"
"Do you know where the Slammer Saloon is?"
"I think I do. What time?"
"Be there at 8:00, and tell Jarred to come too."
"Will do!" I said trying to sound enthused. The last thing I really wanted to do on a Friday night was hang around this bunch of stuck up cunts. Oh well, what's a guy to do? Maybe one of them would get drunk at least be entertaining.
I pulled my Harley up to the bar at a quarter'til eight and went in. I didn't recognize a single motherfucker in the place and figured I'd been conned. Five minutes later a few of the girls walked in. By eight the entire office was there. Most I had seen around and some I hadn't. Some of the married girls brought their husbands, and a couple had removed their wedding rings, cheating whores. At least I knew who to avoid now.
Jarred got there about twenty minutes late and made a bee line for the bar. He ordered a drink and like me, put his back to the bar and watched the crowd. "Seen anything interesting yet?"
"Not really. It seems to me that they're the same self-important assholes here as they are at work."
No sooner had I said that, and then Bob Jenkins from finance came over to us.
"I didn't know any floor personnel had been invited to this." He said as he glanced nervously at me. Most people look nervously at me though. I stand just a shade over six feet tall and weigh over two hundred pounds. I wore my brown hair about half way down my back and wore a full beard. Most guys who knew me said that I fit well on my bike.
"Holly invited us." said Jarred. He knew most of these assholes; I had never taken the time to learn their names. I knew Tara Bennet, since she handled all things human resource related, and I knew Lou Graham the plant manger, and that was about the extent of my office acquaintances.
Jarred's answer seemed to satisfy Bob and he went back to the crowd. Blonde with boobs, Holly I guess was her name, soon came over to lure us closer to the rest of them. I sat there for a while listening to all of the office gossip and feeling as out of place as a reggae band at a Klan meeting. I intended to finish the beer I was drinking and then split.
The whole bunch applauded just then, as if they had read my thoughts and was ecstatic. I looked toward the door to see what they were looking at.
I'd never really considered the concept of "love at first sight" as an actual phenomenon, but I experienced something akin to it right then. She looked like a green eyed version of Sandra Bullock. Even her body matched Sandra's. My heart sunk when I saw the complete dork she walked in with. He looked to be about three inches shorter than her and was pre-maturely balding. His glasses were only marginally shinier than his scalp and he just plain looked constipated. "Must be loaded and/or hung to get her," I thought to myself.
I took that moment to hit the head. I'd had enough beer by that point it was time to release some back into the wild. When I returned Sandra was perched in my seat gabbing with Jarred. This gave me the perfect opportunity to escape before the office brain death could affect me. I caught his eye and gestured that I was splitting. He saluted and laughed. She turned and saw me and watched as I headed out the door.
I got outside and walked to my bike. I had just sat down and put the key in and donned my bandana when a voice behind me said, "So I finally arrive at my going away party and you decide to go away?"
I turned to see Sandra looking at me quizzically. "Don't take it personal, I aint leavin'on your account. It's just not my type of crowd."
"How do you know I'm not your type of crowd?"
"First off, all of you Carpet Landers seem to have this attitude that those pieces of paper that say you spent four years and fifty thousand dollars to sit in a cushioned seat in an office means that you all see yourselves as better than those of us that get dirty in the line of duty. Second, you already seem to have enough company with you that I would just be the long haired outsider."
"So that's how it is." She sounded hurt.
"Look, I didn't mean to come off as an asshole. I just know how I feel being around that type of crowd. I hope you have a wonderful party and I wish you good luck with whatever is taking you away from the company."
I thumbed the starter button and the hog roared to life. I started pulling on my gloves when I noticed Sandra still was standing there. She arched an eyebrow, which made her look more adorable than demanding, and made a slashing motion across her throat so I killed the bike.
"I told Holly to invite you. I know you'll think I'm crazy, but when I saw you walk into the plant a couple of weeks ago, I just had to meet you. I was trying to figure out how to talk to you when the copier jammed today. When I saw that you were coming in to fix it I told Holly to invite you here tonight. Now I get here and the one person I wanted to talk to at this little shindig is leaving."
"You're forgetting something, or should I say someone." She looked at me funny. "Your boyfriend? The guy that you walked in with? Balding guy in the blue polo and glasses? Ringin'any bells?"
"Aaron? Oh no, he isn't my boyfriend. He's married to my cousin and works in Order Services. He and I just rode together tonight."
"Ah." I couldn't think of anything else to add that wouldn't sound horrible so I clammed up.
"Besides your friend Jarred gives me the creeps and I would like to have someone on my arm tonight that might keep him at bay."
I knew what she meant about Jarred giving her the creeps. He gave me the creeps and I considered him to be my best friend. But then again, I knew a thing about him \that none of them knew. Jarred's clandestine hobby was to go around peeking in windows with vide equipment and taking pictures and video of women and couples doing things that they wouldn't normally share with the public. He put these on a website that he ran and got paid for selling picture sets to folks who wanted voyeur type shots. I never figured out how he got around having model releases and age information that all of these porn sites are supposed to have. I do know that of I ever get a steady woman, my curtains will always be closed and the splits sealed off.
"I guess if I have to protect your virtue from the forces of evil I should rejoin your party. I'm Martin Fischer by the way."
"Nice to meet you finally Martin, I'm Josie McCoy."
I offered my elbow and she slid her arm through it and we went back into the bar. Even though the bar was full and everyone seemed to be talking at the same time, she and I were able to hold a conversation without yelling to be heard over the noise. It seemed that we were meant to be there together.
She told me that she was leaving to go work for a stock brokerage downtown. She said that it had been her dream job ever since graduating from Stanford. She was three years older than I was and had never been married. She had been in Santa Fe for three years. I told her that I had gotten a job as a welder in a shipyard in Long Bach right out of high school. Economic downturns cut the need to build many ships so I had struck out in search of other opportunities.
"I love the artsy culture around here," she said with a grin. I told her that if she was game, we could take a ride north to Taos sometime and see a lot of neat "southwestern" art. "On your bike? I don't know I am kind of nervous about riding bikes."
"So Mr. Fischer, how did you come to be in Santa Fe?"
"On my bike." I deadpanned. She slugged me in the arm and fixed me with a look that said I needed to get to rapping. "Ok. I used to weld in a ship yard in Long Beach. I was one of a few guys there who were certified divers as well as welders."
I took a pull on my beer, "My best friend JT and I used to love to go diving off of the Catalina Islands. Then I met Sheila and I began to spend more time with her. One day JT suggested Sheila go diving with us. She had a major fear of being under water so she begged off."
"Most times JT's girlfriend Natalie would go to and she and Sheila would sit in the boat as JT and I dived. I learned how to back my regulator off so I was getting shallower breaths and could make a tank of oxygen last longer. JT was afraid to try so he usually ended up going back up half an hour before I did."
"One day Natalie couldn't go with us and Sheila didn't want to be all alone in the boat so I dived alone. Even though safety rules say you never dive alone, it became a habit whenever we'd take Sheila along. One Saturday I dove in and started my descent. When I got below 50 feet, my regulator cut out leaving me with no air. I started to surface and got air back at around 20 feet. I got to the boat and climbed the ladder to find Sheila, naked as a jaybird with JT's cock in her mouth. He was twisting her nipples as she sucked him. It was all I could do not to grab my diver's knife and filet the both of them."
"I dropped off of the ladder and went to 20 feet and started swimming west towards the islands. At times I'd shut my air off and swim the surface, scanning for boats. When I'd get too tired I'd turn my air back on and go under where the swimming was easier, but I couldn't see boats. After five hours of this I finally ran out of air and had to stay on the surface. About twenty minutes later a real fancy power boat came along side of me. There were seven really hot women in bikinis I the boat. I thought I was seeing things and was about to die. They asked if I was OK and I tried to answer. They pulled me out and gave me some water. I told them I had gotten separated from my dive boat and needed to get to Catalina."
"When we got to Catalina a cop met us on the dock and asked if I was Marty Fischer. I told him I was and he told me there was a full scale search being mounted for me. I asked what had taken so long for them to look for me. He said he was only notified of a missing diver twenty minutes before. I told him I had dove over five hours ago. So I was technically three hours overdo. He called the Coast Guard cutter that was leading the search and told them I was safe on the pier and that another boat had picked me up ten miles from where I supposed to be. He also told them about my dive time."
"EMT's checked me out and the girls I rode back with were profusely thanked. Two of them insisted on staying with me. Half an hour later I saw the CG cutter coming in. They were towing JT's boat. Both JT and Sheila were arrested for reckless endangerment. I was asked if I wanted to press charges and I said I just wanted them held for 48 hours so I could pack my shit and split. I didn't want to see either one of them ever again."
"I got my gear bag from the boat and headed to the apartment I shared with Sheila. I packed what I could fit on the bike with me and donated the rest to The Salvation Army. Just before I left the phone rang. I don't know what made me answer it, but I did. It was Sheila. She asked why they were arrested since I had gotten lost. I told her that they had been too busy having sex to notice that I was well past overdo and that's a crime. She said I was full of shit about them having sex. "I was on the ladder watching you blow him." I said. I told her that I was back up less than half an hour after I had dived. I heard her gasp as I told her to have a nice life."
"I emptied my savings and got my last paycheck from work Monday morning. By Monday afternoon I had LA at my back. My clutch crapped out in Barstow, and I lost a tire in Las Vegas, eating most of my precious cash. When I got to Santa Fe I figured I'd better look for a job while I still had some money for food and fuel. And now here I am."
It seemed I had only been at the bar for an hour or so when the party started breaking up. "Man, these people peter out early don't they?"
"Not really," she said. "Jack the bartender just called last call."
We made our way out of the bar and stood on the sidewalk like a couple of nervous teens at a dance. "Are you busy tomorrow night?" I asked.
"Yes, I do have plans for tomorrow night."
I felt embarrassed for asking so soon and felt like I had blown it. "OK. Some other time I guess."
"Don't you want to know what my plans are or who they are with?"
"I didn't figure it was any of my business. We just met so I have no right to know."
"What time would you have come to get me?"
"Probably at seven." I said, puzzled over where this line of thought could be going. Was she rubbing her date in my face?
"Well then. My plans are at seven." She said as she looked at me in a funny way. "Where would you have taken me?"
I was starting to get a bit perturbed. "Most likely to dinner and a movie and then maybe to a bar for a drink or two after."
"OK then, that's what we'll do. Do you have a vehicle other than the Harley?"
I was dumbfounded. Then I felt the smile threaten to tear my face in half as I realized she'd been playing with me this whole time. "As a matter of fact I have two vehicles, a 59 Chevrolet Apache pick up and a 63 Corvette that I am restoring."
"1542 Cedar Drive, see you at seven. Where's your helmet, by the way?"
"I don't believe in them. I like the wind in my face."
"So sad, a great handsome guy will to be road kill. If I buy you one will you wear it for me?" With that she kissed me quickly on the lips and walked off to her car. The only thing I knew for sure was the next day would not pass nearly fast enough.
We'd been dating for a month, going out every Friday night and Saturday night, before I ever saw more than her front door as I picked her up or dropped her off. She had yet to see my place. We kissed often; some of the goodnight kisses had left me ready to fuck a cactus. Finally one night after dancing at a nice club, they'd been nervous about letting me in wearing my leather jacket; she asked if we could go to my place. I was surprised but didn't trip over myself luckily. I led her out of the club and to my Vette.
When we got to my house she asked if I was ready for us to take another step. "I've been waiting for you to push the issue but you seemed fine taking it slowly. I wasn't sure you liked me enough to go further."
"I thought maybe you were just being old fashioned," I said, "I am not one to try to push too far."
"So you are OK with taking this further then."
"Sure, it's about time you met my little boy." I said as I opened my front door.
'Little boy? I didn't know you had..." Her thought was interrupted by my eight month old Chihuahua Papi jumping up on her leg.
"This is Papi, my little boy."
She slugged me in the arm and Papi growled. "You asshole! You had me going thinking you had a kid."
"Would that have been a problem if I did?" I asked.