A Krissmas Karole

A typical family of pilgrims from one of the economically devastated failed states arrived to participate in the new Colorado gold rush of high paying, high-tech jobs piled out of an SUV. The couple was tall and slim, he wore a flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up and skinny jeans, she wore running shorts, a tank top, and her golden hair was tied in a ponytail and pulled through the hole in the back of her ball cap. Very Colorado. They had two kids, a girl about 5 and a small, tough-looking boy about 3, who ran around in excitement getting in the way of the movers who unloaded boxes and furniture.

"She ain't got no butt!" exclaimed Past Karole, her southern accent exploding. "No bootie at all on that thang. She's just tits on a stick!"

"Yep," said Karole and Future Karole who were concentrating on the kids running around.

"Y'all just jealous," sneered Past Karole who was proud of her "righteous booty."

"Yep," said Karole and Future Karole.

Eventually the couple wandered over to introduce themselves. They realized of course that Drunk Karole was drunk and probably couldn't see them because her eyes were so glazed over, but they tried to converse with her. Drunk Karole started on a mumbling discourse about the neighborhood going to hell with punk kids and meth addicts, even though there are only 6 houses on Weld County Road 451/2. "Who are you again?" she wheezed squinting at the new neighbors.

"I'm Dale and this is my wife Leann, we just moved here from Westchester County New York and we..."

"Hmmm? No, Don and Lanh moved here from Grant Valley... but they're gone now... They left..." Drunk Karole started to cry softly.

Dale leaned forward and said softly "Is there someone we can call for you?"

"It ain't gonna help," she groaned, "he didna want me anyway..." and with that she got up, wrapped her blanket around her, and walked in the house, closing the door behind her with a muffled "Please leave me alone."

Past Karole grabbed Karole by the shoulders and shook her violently, "OH MY GOD, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!?"

"I don't know! I DIDN'T DO IT YET!!!"

"Would you two shut up? You're giving me a headache," groaned Future Karole.

The door opened again, and a much older Krissy stepped out. She had was wearing a large backpack, the sleeve from a poorly packed hoodie hung out of a half-closed zipper on the backpack. "You're still out here drinking? God! That's all you've ever done," groaned 15-year-old Krissy. "My whole fucking life, it's all you've done."

Karole looked around and it was spring, and Drunk Karole was on the porch, in her rocking chair, still drinking. It looked like peach schnapps this time. A full bottle, she just cracked the seal. Seven hundred fifty milliliters of peach flavored rubbing alcohol.

"A'least it ain't fucking drugs," Drunken Karole slurred.

"Go ahead and drink yourself to death, I'm done. I'm over you." Krissy shoved past Drunk Karole giving the rocking chair an "accidental" shove with her hips. "I'm not going to watch you kill yourself."

"You get back here!" gurgled Drunk Karole, "y' can't leave, yer too young!"

"Fuck you, ya drunken old hag!" snarled Krissy spitefully. She gave her mother the "single finger salute" with both hands, then turned and walked to the end of the driveway where a battered old pickup truck waited. Seated in the driver's seat was a scrawny, tubercular looking thing that may have once been a male of the species. He had long, tangled, filthy matted black hair, and a cratered, rutted face that hadn't seen the touch of a razor in over a week. A bent cigarette hung from his lips, and faded artless tattoos covered his arms.

"Don't you get inta that thare pickup, yoo my daughter!" yelled Drunk Karole, but she made no move to get up.

Krissy slammed her backpack into the bed of the pickup, which was filled with greasy automobile and motorcycle parts, some of which were obtained legitimately. She got into the reeking, oily cab of the truck and sat next to the equally reeking, oily driver, then slammed the door as hard as she could, but it didn't latch. She slammed it three more times, it never latched.

"Baby, remember? Ya gotta tie it off with the seatbelt," slurred the room temperature IQ vehicle operator. "I'm gonna fix it," he said in a cloud of cigarette smoke.

"Just drive," ordered Krissy who was now officially The Brains of the Outfit.

"Get back here!" bellowed Drunk Karole, but Krissy just leaned out the window with two extended middle fingers. To impress the drunken sot on the porch, the hepatitis carrier at the wheel of the truck put it in four-wheel drive and stomped the gas producing a four wheel burn out. On loose gravel.

A real Darryl Junior, that one.

With six out of eight cylinders firing, and a backfire every few seconds, the faded, dented pickup roared away on Weld County Road 451/2 leaving behind a cloud of dust, unburned gasoline fumes, and a fine spray of bargain basement recycled 10W-40 motor oil.

"My baby," gaped Karole, "that was my baby..." she started trembling, her hands were no longer hers to control, "MY BABY!" she shrieked, "YOU LOST MY..." she turned to launch herself at Drunk Karole but stopped when she saw Drunk Karole drink that bottle of Schnapps. She drank the entire bottle, in one long, painful series of gulps.

"Oh my God," gasped Karole, then her eyes grew wide when she saw Drunk Karole raise a pistol to her head. "I can't end this way!" Karole shrieked.

"Karole! Stop! Don't!" shouted Dale as he sprinted across the lawn. Summoned by the noise he saw the drama as it played out and he ran as fast as he could and vaulted over the porch railing. He dove and grabbed her hand that was holding the pistol. He yanked it downward, the gun fired, the bullet roared down the barrel and through the spirit of Future Karole to impact in an open field a quarter of a mile away.

"I have 911!" cried Leanne as she stepped out of what used to be Don and Lanh's house with a phone to her ear.

"Get an ambulance!" Dale shouted, "and find the Ipecac!"

While Past Karole shouted a litany of obscenities at Drunk Karole, who was now slumped on the patio floor, Karole knelt in the front yard crying and praying over and over "I can't end like this, dear Lord please help me, my baby! I can't end like this..."

Future Karole knelt next to Karole and wrapped her arms around her, rocking with her. Eventually Past Karole joined them and the three Karoles rocked and cried, each one terrified of this fate. The ambulance left, shrieking off into the darkness while Dale wrapped his arm around Leanne and held her close.

Karole cried and prayed all through spring and summer and autumn while Future and Past Karoles held her close. Come December the Colorado skies darkened, storms formed over the mountains and rolled out on to the western plains. Rain started to fall, and temperatures dropped, but Karole remained on the lawn of her house, groaning and rocking. She had no idea how long it lasted, it could have been a matter of minutes, or it could have been nine actual months, she had no way of knowing. She was numb, physically, mentally, emotionally.

Slowly she began to notice cars parking on the edge of the road and people walking up to her house behind her. Then two very familiar looking Asian women walked past her. She remembered the look of joy and surprise on their faces so many years ago when their father Duong practically ordered their kid sister to marry the man that she loved.

"Tam! Kim-ly!" gasped Karole. She met them on several occasions when they visited Lanh and Don next door and grew to be friends, Kim-ly had her son not long after Krissy was born, they were so close that Christmas before... what was going on? They walked past her, climbed the steps, and entered the house. "Tam!" shouted Karole and she rose to follow. Tam was always so nice to her; she called Karole em gái mới của tôi - "my new sister."

Inside the house Karole found tables set up throughout the house, all of her dishware, clothes, appliances and bric-a-brac set up for sale. Krissy's toys and clothes were for sale too. If Karole thought she couldn't sink any lower, she was wrong. She was looking at her own estate sale. A nonstop electric charge of utter despair coursed through her causing her mind and body to utterly ache. It was like a huge, horrific muscle cramp that affected her entire soul.

Tam and Kim-ly were looking for something important to them, something specific. Kim-ly found one of Karole's prized possessions, a framed photograph of Karole, Krissy, Lanh, and Don taken at a scenic overlook in Rocky Mountain National Park. It always hung in a place of honor in her bedroom where she could see her dear friends when she went to bed at night and was the first thing she saw in the morning. Now Kim-ly clung to it like it were a life vest, but that wasn't the item they were looking for. Eventually they found it, a tall metallic vase with a lid. It was the oddest shade of purple she had ever seen.

Tam held the vase to her chest and sighed while looking up. But then she opened the lid and looked inside and grew angry. A sudden and explosive conversation in Vietnamese began between Tam and Kim-ly, and finally Kim-ly demanded of the cashier "This wasn't empty when you got it, where did you empty it?"

"But It was just dirt," the old lady said.

"WHERE?" demanded Tam.

"In the back yard," whimpered the old lady.

"Show us," demanded Tam, and the terrified old lady led them out to the yard and in a corner of the yard there was a pile of ash. Tam and Kim-ly dropped to their knees and carefully collected as much ash as they could, treating it as gently and as carefully as they would as if it were nuclear fuel, or maybe a loved one, gently returning it to the vase.

"Oh no," moaned Karole, as Lanh's sisters walked past her. It wasn't a vase; it was a funerary urn. It had contained someone's ashes, someone important to Tam and Kim-ly. She felt like she was going to throw up. She didn't hear whose ashes it was, but she heard Tam mention that her brother loved the person in this urn most of all. She thought of Lahn's brothers Huy, Trung, and Bao, such nice guys. She even had a little crush on Trung, and it turned out that he had a thing for tall blonds with big boobs.

Was that her ashes? One of them loved her?

She lay down on the cold, wet dirt and curled up in a ball wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her. She remembered what both Past and Future Karole told her: a ghost was coming to scare the shit out of her. Good, groaned Karole, maybe it will scare me to death so it will be over.

"Come on," whispered Future Karole, "It's over, no more stick, you've been beaten enough. Let's go get a carrot."

"No," croaked Karole, her spectral voice hoarse from crying, "no more, I can't."

"Yes, you can," whispered Future Karole and she gently touched Karole's temple and softly she was in a warm, dry, living room. "I know you," said Future Karole softly, "we need this carrot so badly!"

Stave 4

A fire crackled in a large fireplace, one of the scraggliest looking Christmas trees she had ever seen dominated the front windows. The tree was covered with beautiful ornaments, but also inexpertly made green and red paper chains, strings of popcorn, and little dolls with angel's wings made from paper. There was so many details Karole couldn't see, they were blocked to her, but she didn't notice that fact, because there was Krissy; she was happy and healthy. Krissy was clearly five years old and flitting around the room like a butterfly on speed explaining how Santa Claus was going to hop out of the fireplace and see the tree she made for him, and the cookies, and the milk...

"Krissy!" Karole gasped, "you're ok!" She covered her mouth and found that she did, indeed, have tears remaining, tears of utter joy. She grabbed Past Karole's arm, "She's ok! That's our baby! She's ok! Oh, thank you God, my baby is ok!"

"They both are ok," said Future Karole, but Karole had yet to take in the whole scene. She watched Krissy run over to the tree and grab two packages with bright red and white wrapping paper. She placed them on the table and read the tag on the top package.

"Froooom Krissy..." she realized her mistake and giggled. "I mean, Toooooo Krissy, Froooom Daddy!" She grabbed the package, ran with it to the tree, and set it on the floor in front of the tree.

"Daddy? Her father actually spent money on his daughter?" Karole was incredulous. Krissy's biological father was a worthless piece of shit meth head. If he ever got two nickels to rub together, he'd spend one on drugs and the other on hookers, never on his own daughter.

"That piece of crap has been on the run from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for over a year now, he was selling crack in Ottawa this time when they came after him," said Future Karole. "Krissy has a real daddy now."

"Who?" gasped Karole but she was interrupted by a Karole she hadn't noticed yet.

"What about the other box?"

Karole realized that she had been so fixated on seeing Krissy healthy and happy that she didn't notice the Karole that was sitting on the couch, was wearing Karole's favorite old pink bathrobe. She looked tired but happy, incredibly happy. Karole named this iteration of herself Happy Karole. She had a bundle on her lap, a blanket wadded up, and suddenly it moved. A tiny foot rose from one end of the bundle. Karole screamed in surprise and joy when Krissy said:

"It's probably for the BAY-BEE, everything is for the BAY-BEE!"

Happy Karole said "That BAY-BEE is your brother, and not everything is for him. Now what does that tag say?"

Krissy sighed as only five-year-old girls can sigh, got up and stomped over to the coffee table as only five-year-old girls can stomp. "It says Tooooo... I don't know that word."

Happy Karole leaned over to look at the tag "Ummm, don't worry about that word, it's a word that adults use when they want to kiss."

"Eeewww"

"Yeah, don't worry about it honey, who is it from?" Happy Karole produced a small bottle of formula and uncovered the sleepy baby's face. She rubbed the nipple of the bottle on the baby's lips, and it began to suckle for a while.

Karole leaned over and looked closely at the tiny tot. "He's so cute..." she could feel motherly urges welling up, the pain and discomfort of carrying and giving birth to Krissy long gone, especially now that the nightmare she just experienced is over. She tried to tickle the baby's foot because she wanted to get him to open his eyes, she wanted to see their color, but he just smiled around the nipple in his mouth and went to sleep.

"How do you know it's a boy?" whispered Past Karole.

"Mother's intuition," replied Karole.

"And the blue t-shirt is a dead giveaway," added Future Karole.

"Who is it from?" asked Happy Karole urging Krissy to read the name on the gift tag.

"Unka Huy!" smiled Krissy.

"Really? With a kissy word on it?" challenged Happy Karole.

"It's from daddy, I was kidding on you."

Karole was still considering what Krissy said. Huy? Lanh's oldest brother? UNCLE Huy? I must have married one of Lanh's other brothers, Trung, or Bao thought Karole. She and Trung had a good relationship, a lot of kidding on the times they met, and he was HOT. She and Bao didn't really connect even though she had crushed on him for a little while too. The thought made her want to see the baby clearly now, but Krissy started tearing the wrapping paper off of her box and Happy Karole started to open her box too.

"Oooo!" said Krissy as she held up her gift for inspection.

"Mommy has one too," said Happy Karole, as she held up the exact red robe with white trim that Future Karole was wearing. Krissy received a smaller version of it. "Your daddy and Uncle Huy must have been talking when he bought these for us. Your Aunt Annie has one like it too."

"They're always talking," said Krissy, trying on her Santa robe.

"Well, they are brothers. Come on, drink up your milk, it's well past bedtime. Santa has no legal obligation to bring presents to little girls that are still awake."

"What about little boys?" pouted Krissy.

"He's already asleep, now let's git going!" whispered Happy Karole as she rose, laid the baby on the couch and took off her pink bathrobe, and put on the Santa robe.

"That's where you got that?" asked Karole, and Future Karole just smiled and nodded.

Happy Karole scooped up the baby and hustled Krissy off to her room where, fortified with the small glass of warm milk, Krissy soon dropped off to sleep. Happy Karole then bustled around the house ensuring that the lights were off, the fire was safe, and the tree was lit. She then went to the nursery, and placed the baby in the bassinette and tucked him in. To frustrate Karole even more, he was lying on his tummy and she couldn't see his face.

"They're both asleep," Happy Karole said as she poked her head in the master bedroom.

"Let's get to work," said her husband as he rose off the small love seat.

Karole studied Happy Karole's husband as he and Happy Karole bustled around the house collecting presents from the various closets and cubby holes where they were stashed over the past few months, then hauling them out to the living room. The only thing that Karole could take away from her observation of him is that she couldn't take anything away from her observation of him. She could see his face, eyes, nose, ears, mouth, but she couldn't register them. She could see his hair clear as a bell, but she couldn't tell what color it was, what length it was, what style it was. All she could take away was that he does have hair. It began to frustrate her, and she realized she couldn't tell if this man was OJ Simpson or Pee Wee Herman.

She turned to Past Karole and asked, "Who is that?"

Past Karole shook her head, "I don't know, I can't tell. Freaky, isn't it."

"What's going on?"

"You're not supposed to know who that is," said Future Karole, "I could tell you, but you wouldn't be able to understand it."

"Try me," grinned Karole.

"Ok, you marry ////// ///// on ///// ///// and you get married at ///// /////."

Karole heard the words, acknowledged that they were words, yet had no idea what they were and no concept of what they meant. "What the fuck..."

"Freaky, right?" asked Future Karole with a grin. "If you like that, you're going to LOVE the carrot."

"Oh God! I've been waiting for this part," said Past Karole. "We've never tried this part before."

Suddenly Karole noticed that as Happy Karole bent over to arrange presents under the tree, her robe rode up exposing her bare bubble butt and her glistening shaved pussy. "That hussy!" Karole grinned, then gave a snicker as Happy Karole looked over her shoulder at her husband and wiggled her hips at him, then she went back to arranging the gifts under the tree. At some point she had taken off her nightgown and was completely nude under her Santa robe.

For his part, ///// ///// didn't miss the hint. He stealthily crawled up behind his wife and slowly slipped his finger into her moist pussy. "Mmmmmm," Happy Karole spread her legs wider, surrendering her pussy to her man. Her eyes closed in bliss, and she lowered her cheek to the carpet and let him have his way with her most private parts.

Yet at the same time, Karole and Past Karole's eyes shot wide open and they both gasped as they felt exactly what Happy Karole felt, that man's finger slid deep into her pussy and begin to gently search around for sensitive spots to gently massage. Karole's urge to pull away quickly faded as the loving probing increased, and soon she too assumed the same position as Happy Karole, she knelt down and rested her cheek on the floor as the ghostly digits probed deep into her pussy.