A Montauk Christmas

Krampus stood on a hill overlooking the town of Garland, Texas. Light wasn't necessary for it to read the names on the parchment that was as black as a condemned soul. Looking up at the buildings again, certain houses stood out with a sickly-red luminescence.

Scratching a horn absentmindedly, it used its other hand to pat the basket over its shoulder. When contact was made with the wicker, he could hear the cries of the children contained within. Pleas and lamentations and apologies and wailing. Sweet, sweet wailing.

It whistled a jaunty dirge and made its way towards the bounty that lay ahead. More bad children to fill his larder.

Krampus was having a banner year.

Cynthia safe. Cynthia lay head on Dink's chest. Feel Dink's strong heart thump. William here. William safe. Other girl here. Girl pack. She Good Boy. Girl safe. Girl yipped and tried to speak. William listen. Cynthia listen.

Cynthia turned to lift Dink's lip. Look at sharp, strong teeth. Yes, pup. Dink strong. Dink protect. Cynthia safe. Give Dink dignity back. Let go lip.

Leaning against the doorway, Jen smiled. "Finn, get in here. Bring your phone."

Marisol, the kids favorite babysitter, was reading to the them and Cynthia was laying propped up on Dink. Jen slipped her arm around Finn's waist as they watched their children listening raptly to Tommy's cousin. Finn took some pictures with his phone and caught Dink's eyes as he looked towards his daughter.

There was a silent plea between Finn and his dog. His daughter was examining Dink's teeth and the dog lay there, patient and gentle.

"Cynthia, leave Dink's mouth alone. You can't do that, honey. Dink loves you and would never hurt you, but other dogs don't know you. Never put your hand near a dog's mouth or teeth. Cynthia, you listening? Don't touch doggy's mouth."

Finn felt Jen wrap her arm around his, the grip just a bit too tight. Jennifer and Finn had spoken, and she was going to stay a week with Fred and Anna as Morgan was relocated to a hospice near their home. There was still some shock at the thought of her brother dying of what was effectively old age. She understood, but that didn't help the cognitive dissonance. She was twenty-seven and her brother was in his eighties.

They hadn't been particularly close as children. She got along with her brothers, but it was nothing like what Finn shared with Siobhan. Still, she loved them, and they were her only connection to her old life. She'd spend what time she could with Morgan during his final days.

The thought of being away from her children, especially William, tugged at her soul, but she was better with separation than she was when he was younger. Before she left, they hosted a small get-together. Her new family anchored her and gave her strength. She needed their support before she went to say goodbye to her brother.

It was a party, like many that they threw. Family, friends and food on their lawn, under heated tents that pushed back the winter's chill. It gave Finn the opportunity to cook, and Jen the chance to bask in their love for her and for each other.

She was bringing out a meat platter for Finn to work his magic on when Tommy and Shiv came around the side of the house. Toni Steading was with them. The girl idolized Siobhan. Shiv took to the position of role model like a duck to water. Toni had studied Jiu Jitsu at Tommy's father's academy for the past few years and spent as much time as possible under Shiv's tutelage.

Shiv looked up at Jennifer, gave her a small frown, shrugged her shoulders and mouthed "Sorry". Jen didn't understand until she saw Toni's mom following them. She'd been finding ways to insert herself into their lives since Finn got her the job at the clinic. He had a great deal of affection and respect for her father, whom he had worked for when he was as a teenager. That trickled down to Jean and Toni, for Finn.

For Jen? Not so much.

Jean stood next to Toni. The mother and daughter could be clones. Hands clasped before her, she looked nervous as her daughter spoke to Tommy. He was a frequent instructor at his father's Riverhead location, and she was bending his ear, probably about some move or another.

Shiv approached and gave Jen a brief hug. "Sorry. I asked if Toni could join us and somehow Jean invited herself along. Where's Dink? Tommy's got some new brand of bacon."

"The study. Marisol's reading to the kids. Dink is Cynthia's favorite new cushion. She's probably laying on him." She nodded towards Jean. "Is she really that, I don't know, lonely?"

"Yeah, I think so. Her father's not doing well, and her mom passed a few years ago. I can't imagine being a single mom helps with the dating prospects. From what I gather from Toni, she's had some bad relationships over the years."

Sighing, Jen continued. "The hell with it. If she needs friends, we can be friends."

"Your call, Sis. I'm still pissed at what she did to Finn. If it wasn't for Toni, I wouldn't care less about her."

Jean eventually made her way to the metal prep tables Finn had on the deck. Sitting next to him, she tried to help, washing vegetables and utensils. Keeping quiet unless spoken to, she seemed to try to get along with everyone, but unless she was scanning for Toni her eyes were on what she was washing, Finn or the ground.

Life seemed to have roughed her up a bit, but from everything Jen had heard, she was a good mother. The role of a mother was important to Jen, and helped ameliorate any residual anger towards Jean for how she treated Finn all those years ago.

They had dated for years and when they were in their senior year of high school, she cheated on him with a teenager who had celebrity status in their clique for being a back-up dancer in some videos. When Finn found out, he confronted them at a teen club and the dancer beat the crap out of him in front of everyone. Jean never apologized, never explained and expressed no remorse. The dancer got her pregnant, they married, they divorced, and he moved to Vegas.

When Pete, Father Jesse, Grandpa and Finn's parents arrived for the evening, they all played Werewolf, a group game Tommy taught them a few months earlier. Games. That was a huge change from when Jen was younger. If you went out when she was young, it was pinball or whack-a-mole. If you stayed in, it was a card game, like Crazy Eights, or board games like Monopoly.

Werewolf was fun and kept everyone involved, so Jean participated. She knew Finn's parents, of course, and spoke easily with them, but stayed close to Finn. Jennifer thought it was nice to see her laugh and come out of her shell. Jean would flick her blonde hair back over her shoulder and touch Deb, Finn's mom. They would chat a bit and she would do the same with Finn. Maybe more often with Finn.

When Jen went to bring out the ice-cream makers and get the hot chocolate going, Pete followed her inside.

"Hey, let me give you a hand."

He stood there, shifting his weight as she grabbed the equipment from the floor of the pantry. He wouldn't look her in the eye as she passed them. Pete had worked as Cynthia's driver and had been close to her. He grew up in an orphanage that she funded and, like her, didn't really have any family. After William was attacked, Pete slept on their porch for two weeks while Finn and Siobhan were in the hospital. He put his body between William and any potential danger.

"Okay, Pete. What's going on?"

"Uh, you know, I don't really want to say anything but, well..."

"Pete, you're family. Just say it."

"I don't like the way that girl is around Finn. She's, I don't know, quietly flirty, you know? Like she realizes what she gave up and regrets it and maybe... ah, you know what, I'm probably being stupid."

Pete wasn't intellectually curious, but he was one of the sweetest men Jen had ever met. His lack of confidence broke her heart sometimes and she and Shiv had talked about setting him up with one of their friends. Jen watched him and noticed how he kept an eye on William when her son was near the water and how he discreetly carried anything heavy that Grandpa brought or took home. He didn't bring attention to himself; he was just there when needed.

Pete was as much a protector by nature as Shiv, just not in the same way. And here he was, alerting Jennifer to a predator sniffing around the outskirts of her marriage.

Stepping forward, she kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Pete. I'm on it."

Pete brought the machines out to the prep tables and came back in for the ingredients. Jen went to the bathroom and took her ACE inhibitors and calcium blockers.

Jean's laughter made its way through the open window. The sound made Jen's brow furrow. Finn was witty, but his jokes weren't that funny. Looking out at the guests, Jennifer could see Jean's hand on Finn's arm and her gaze on William, who was sitting next to Marisol, drawing in his pad. Goosebumps broke out on the back of Jennifer's neck and she shivered.

As the sun started to set, her mother-in-law and Jean joined her in cleaning up and washing the dishes. Jean stepped out to grab some dishes from the prep table.

"Mom, can you maybe talk to Dad for a while? Just give me a few minutes with Jean?"

Finn's mother looked from the door that Jean stepped through to Jen and nodded knowingly. "Of course, honey. If you need me, I'll be there." She reached across her shoulders with her left arm and hugged Jennifer. It seemed that she saw the same thing Pete and Jen saw.

Jean and Jennifer stood side by side at the two double Krause-brand sinks that Finn had to have. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Jennifer started.

"So, how's Toni's father doing? You hear from him at all?"

"Uh, no, not really. A call here and there. Usually around the holidays or her birthday. The two of them talk all the time though and they Skype or FaceTime once in a while."

"He doesn't fly her in?"

"No, he's in Vegas. He's a dancer in a show. Money's an issue."

"Really? I heard that he's actually in Reno now. The choreographer for a revue at the Atlantis. They're getting good reviews, from what I've heard." Finn was essentially an information broker and Jennifer was a mathematical savant who managed their money. She used his resources and their affluence to keep track of anyone who had hurt Finn or posed a threat to their family.

Jean paused, hands in the soapy water, not looking up. "Oh, I, we don't really talk too much. I guess he's doing better now."

"I guess. Good for him. Maybe he can afford more things for Toni. Maybe bring her out there for holidays and summers."

With a quick, jerking move, Jean looked up at her. "No, no, I have full custody. He... that wouldn't happen. The courts agreed."

"Well, sure. For now. I mean, if he has new and better resources, he could petition the court, right? But hey, listen to me rambling. What do I know? But Jean, I need a favor."

Staring at the soapy water again, she seemed lost for a minute. "Yeah. Whatever I can do. What do you need, Jennifer?"

"Well, I'm going away for a little while. Maybe a week or so. I know how some women look at Finn. Since we're friends, I thought you could maybe put the word out at the clinic. You know what I'm talking about. If anyone gets any ideas, just remind them of who I am. I'm someone that would ruin their lives in a heartbeat if they got the wrong idea. If I thought someone was making a move on my husband, I would drop them in a hole so deep it would make the Grand Canyon look like a crack in the floor."

Jennifer stopped speaking and she stopped washing.

"We're clear, right, Jean? Just make sure that they know that if I even suspect someone is thinking of doing something I wouldn't approve of, I won't just put an end to it for them, I'd make sure that they lose everything and everyone they cared about. We're friends. You can do that for me, right?"

Jean was silent.

"Jean, you can do that?"

She nodded her head again, not looking up.

"Jean, I need to hear you say it."

Softly, sadly. "Yes. I can do that."

"Thanks. I appreciate the help."

Putting the last of the utensils in the drying rack, Jean turned and went back to the porch.

As Jennifer unplugged the stoppers in the sink, she looked to her left and saw Pete in the doorway, having come up from the basement with containers of chopped fruit. Standing there, staring at her, he just shook his head.

"I can't believe how much you're like Cynthia. You could be her twin. You know that girl is terrified now, right? Remind me to never get you pi... angry."

Smiling, she turned to take one of the containers from his arms, leaned in and kissed his cheek. "You can say pissed, Pete. And I'd never be angry with you. You're family."

The skiff Krampus stood on looked over the hamlet known as Montauk. As always, with the season drawing to a close, he moved ever closer to home. Montauk was almost exactly 136 miles from its dwelling.

The basket had become quite heavy. The fur on his coat grew wet with salivation as he thought of fat, succulent children ripe for the roasting. Pushing thoughts of feasting aside, he checked the list. Yes, houses glowing red abounded in this enclave of bad little girls and boys. But... there was one, right on the water which glowed and slowly pulsed with a silvery light. Those houses were off limits to him.

Silvery homes were the purview of his brother, with his cookies and milk, but this light was so bright, so compelling, that it pulled at him. Huge leaping bounds quickly brought him to the property. Men and women were outside under heated tents. Such weak, fragile things these humans. Walls were no impediment to its vision and he saw an older woman in the home, sitting, reading, guarding. And above, a child. A young silver and gold child, shifting and slipping in and out of its vision. A child of dreams and power.

Reaching into its pouch, Krampus removed dust that was black as coal but glittered like the eyes of a madman. With a gust of his rancid breath, the dust flew in a straight line towards the house, veered and in a mockery of his fat, useless brother, and slipped down the chimney. Moments later the woman was asleep.

Where was the dream-child? There! The second window from the front. The child lay beyond. It leapt again, slamming into the side of the house and sunk its talons into the wood. Hanging there like a tumor or parasite attached to this edifice, it waited, anticipating, yearning, thinking of this child. It must have entered Dreaming soon after conception. It was rife with power, a power that would belong to Krampus after she was devoured.

A few words of an incantation and the window silently slid up and closed softly after him.

It stood on the parquet floor, staring at the child laying in the crib. Beyond the crib was the door. Power radiated from the toddler, and Krampus was almost swept away by the dreams and images instilled by her.

His fetid breath befouled the room as he spoke.

"A bad child you are not

But alas, you shall share their lot,

All is not as it may seem

A simple child bearing the power of dream

A stew I shall make from your meat and hide

To keep me fed until the next yuletide,

Now girl, into the basket you go

Before my brother arrives, with his ho, ho, ho!"

A stern child's voice spoke up. "Leave my sister alone!"

Another one! A second child, all glimmery and bright. Krampus shivered and suppressed its glee.

"Accords were made, deals agreed

But now my hunger runs, loose and freed.

He gifts the good, the wicked I take

This night I break bonds, my thirst you'll slake.

I shall take you as well, basket stuffed deep

Magical siblings, yearning for endless sleep.

In her I sense Dreams, in you I see Time

I shall boil you both down, a stew sublime."

It stepped closer to the crib, keeping an eye on the boy-child standing in the doorway.

"Look, you're making a big mistake, mister. I won't let you hurt my sister, and Aunt Daisy won't let you hurt me. You should go. And your rhymes are really, really bad."

Krampus eyed the boy with evil merriment and a one-sided grin that was two steps from a snarl. So much pluck in this boy! He was going to be delicious. Krampus leaned over the crib, reaching for the girl. His bristly side brushed the railing and lightning coursed through his body. Thrown back against the wall, Krampus slumped to the ground.

"True Love? Who puts True Love in a crib? It maybe... broke my rib? Eh, screw the rhymes. That's only going to work once, kid. Don't get your hopes up."

William took the opportunity to grab a bottle of baby oil from the shelf, sprayed it all over the parquet flooring, and pulled his sister out of the crib by her armpits. She giggled softly. Struggling, he lifted her up with his arms around her belly and waddled as fast as he could to his room.

Krampus slipped on the baby oil. He slid, he fell, he scrambled. Claws scraping, he finally got to his feet. Trying to steady himself, he grabbed the shelving in one hand and the crib in the other. The hand on the crib started to sizzle, he leapt back and found himself on the floor again. Staggered, scrambling, sliding and pushing, he finally made it to the door and hallway. Clambering to his feet, he pounded the wall with fists marked by red, swollen knuckles as he made his way towards William's room.

The child was calling out a strange, loud mantra. It didn't matter. Nothing would save him now. It did sound odd though.

"Dink! Dink! Dink!"

"Little boy, open the door and I will take you home with me. You'll like it there. There will be lots of other children."

The surprisingly strong voice came from behind the stout door. "What happened to your rhyming? And where's your home?"

"Eh, it's more for effect than anything else. Seriously, open the door. I live at the Meadowlands. Such delicious pain and misery there. I'll sneak you into the stadium and get you hot dogs. Kids like hot dogs, right? C'mon, open the door. Don't make me kick it in."

"No! Dink! Dink!" A second, younger voice joined in a sing-song call. "Diiiyiink! Diiyiink! Dink, Dink, Dink!"

A baying cut through the night.

Every tuft of fur on Krampus' body stood on end.

"What the heck was that?"

"That was Dink, mister, and you're in big trouble."

A FEW MINUTES EARLIER

Evil. Evil is here. Not know evil before. Dink knows evil now. Dink always knew evil deep inside. Just know now that always knew, never saw. Now evil come to pack home.

Dink... stronger. New Dink. Mighty Dink. This is why Dink exists. Dink understands now. Kill evil. Smell William, smell Cynthia. Smell evil. Run. Run to door. Run, run, run. Door closed. Run to front. Run. Door closed.

Evil in home. Evil stalk Good Boys. Big glass by door. Hear William. Best Boy. William call Dink. Cynthia call Dink. Protect. Go through window. Sharp on ground. Cut pad on paw. Run up. Run, run, run. Run up to pups.

Dink yell. "Evil, Dink come. Evil, Dink kill."

Pete blinked, eyes furrowed in thought. "What... Did you guys do something to Dink's fur?"

"No, Pete. Why? Does he need a bath?"

"Uhhmm, right before he took off he looked like, sparkly or something. And, I don't know, bigger. He was barking, like he's after a squirrel or something."

"That's weird. Maybe he was rolling around in the kids' paint or something."

"I guess. Pass the tortellini salad, Finn. The kids okay upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure. Mom's in the house."

Krampus tried once more. "No mutt's going to stop me. Open the door, kid. If I have to kick it down, I'm gonna start munching on your sister in front of you."