A Montauk Christmas

"Don't touch my door, mister! And he's no mutt. Dink's a Tibetan Foo Dog."

"Tibetan..." Through the twisted channels of his mind, an image of the breed, a giant, red bear of a canine, flickered. Something golden and glowing at their center. "Oh, crap. Kid, are you sure?"

"I know what my dog is, mister. Aunt Cynthia got him from China for Dad before I was born, but now he's my dog and he's gonna rip you up."

"You mean, like temple guardian Tibetan Fu Lion dog?"

William sat cross-legged on his bed, keeping one eye on his sister and the other on his progress as he spoke. "I'm not talking to you anymore. Just go away." He concentrated on the jewelry he never wore and was disassembling. Jewelry was for girls. William was a boy. Boys don't wear jewelry.

As a younger child, William had spent hour after hour combing the shoreline behind their house, looking for smooth, colored stones. Dink trailed him every step of the way, nudging him back if he got too close to the water. The stones were his treasures. He collected them and gifted some to those he loved.

Jennifer, his mother, had a pocketful of the stones when she stepped into Dreamtime in an effort to save her family. When she returned, she had a craftsman from Greenport turn them into a necklace and a bracelet for her son, and saved the remainder. William now had a growing pile to his right as stone after stone were pried loose from the jewelry.

Cynthia sat beside him, continuing her sing-song call. "Dinkdinkdink Deeeeyiiink!"

Baying again cut through the air and Krampus called out. "That's it, kid. I'm comin' in!"

The door flew from its frame and the huge creature stood there, lurking in the entranceway, drool dripping from its elongated tongue and fangs. "No more games, kid. Get in the basket and take the brat with you."

William calmly shifted from profile to face Krampus, his body between the creature and Cynthia. "I told you to stay away from my sister!" With his right hand he lifted one of the stones that glowed in the eyes of the malignant intruder. With his left, he pulled up his slingshot.

"Hey, put that down, kid! What's with this damn house? You've got more magic than Santa's got chins. Don't make me..."

For the second time that evening, the mighty Krampus was thrown back against a wall. The stone embedded itself in his flesh and started smoking. First, he was stymied by True Love, then he was struck by a missile from Dreamtime, and now some magical guard dog was hot on his trail.

This was such a bad idea.

William got off another shot as Krampus leaped. It struck him in the hip, but he managed to keep moving forward. The creature's Rute, a bundle of birch branches, struck the boy and flung him across the room. Standing tall, there was nothing between him and his prey.

Seeing his opportunity, William tried to stand. He was going to follow his training, take Krampus's back, and choke him out. He managed to get to his feet while leaning against his desk. He wasn't going to cry. Aunt Daisy wouldn't cry. He wasn't a little kid anymore and his sister needed him.

Krampus loomed over his prey, the little girl defenseless, moments away from being his meal. Then she spoke.

And they were the most terrifying words he'd heard in centuries.

"Hi-hi, Dink!" She waved and giggled.

A bass rumbling coming from the doorway caused Krampus's bowels to flutter and his heart to race. He slowly turned, Rute held in front of him.

Dink here, pup. Dink here, William. Dink HERE Evil!

Tiny shards of neon blue raced from the massive dog's head to his tail. His butt was low, his rictus full, and he was ready to spring. Launching into the air, he instinctively angled his impact to push the Evil from the children. The Rute crashed down on his back and the blue lights splintered and ran down his sides. Landing on Krampus, he sunk his teeth into its shoulder, yanked and pulled, exhilarated in the deep knowledge that he was doing what he was created to do.

Love, protect, destroy Evil. Dink's raison d'etre was wrapped up in everything happening in this room.

Dink lowered his butt towards the ground again and pulled, pulled and pulled. He was dragging the creature towards the door and away from the children when he saw William staggering.

Evil hurt boy? Evil hurt BEST BOY?

Dink stopped pulling, released his grip on the shoulder and as he was struck again by the birch, he bit deeply into the creature's neck. William shuffled forward and grabbed three stones, then the slingshot in one hand and his sister's arm in the other.

He pulled her to the doorway and hesitated. Mom wouldn't want her going down the stairs alone, but this wasn't a normal day. Yelling to her as he brushed back the tears he willed not to fall, he pulled back on the slingshot.

"Cynthia, go to Aunt Daisy. Aunt Daisy! Go, Cynthia!"

As he was trained, William kept his feet slightly wider than shoulders length apart, left foot just a bit forward. He waited until Dink shifted to the side and let fly with another stone. It struck the creature in the forehead and smoke arose from where it sunk into the flesh.

More smoke started to rise from the creature's neck and shoulder as well as where the earlier two stones struck. It started thrashing and screaming, "Noooooooo!" The voice grew deeper and more guttural as the thrashing increased in speed to the point where it was a blur. Smoke streamed from every part of its body, and Dink bit, shook and wouldn't let go.

Bit by bit, Krampus seemed to fall apart, dots and specks at first, then fist-sized holes appeared in its thigh and torso. Soon, all that was left was the smoke that streamed upwards and, within minutes, even that was gone.

Siobhan took the stairs two at a time, her niece in her arms. Cynthia's pudgy fingers encircled strands of her Aunt Daisy's blonde hair as she softly murmured. "Aisy. Aisy. Aisy."

Quickly scanning the hallway, Siobhan made her way to her nephew's bedroom, her heart in her throat. She desperately wished that she left Cynthia downstairs, but her body wouldn't release the little girl. She clutched Cynthia close to her chest and whispered as she moved closer and closer to the door. "Shhhhh. It's okay, Baby. Daisy has you. It's okay."

Standing at the doorway, she looked at the disaster that was William's room. The bed was out of place, a dresser was on its side and the desk was toppled over. She gently brushed the lamp that was on the floor out of her way with her foot and approached her nephew.

William laid over Dink, sobbing.

"William? Little Man, are you okay? Talk to me, honey. C'mon, you can always talk to me, right?"

He kept petting Dink, who was licking the boy's other hand. Some black scorch marks stained the fur on Dink's back and the big dog shivered whenever William's hand ran over that area.

William got up and walked towards his desk. He wouldn't risk looking at his aunt as he straightened the desk, drew deep, ragged breaths and wiped his forearm across his nose, leaving tears and mucous on his gi.

"I wasn't crying."

Lips trembling with unexpected sadness, she leaned forward. He so desperately wanted to be brave and older than his seven years. Why couldn't he just enjoy being a kid? "I know, William. Can you tell me what happened? Gramma's asleep downstairs, the front window was crashed in, Cynthia was calling for me when I was grabbing leftovers and Dink's foot is bleeding."

"No. I... I don't know what happened. Nothing happened. We were just playing."

Siobhan sat on his bed, still holding Cynthia. "Okay, William. Come here for a minute. Sit down." She patted the bed. He wiped his nose again and trundled over, sitting beside her.

"So, you guys were playing, and the window was broken? And then you continued playing up here and put the holes in the wall? And..." She waved at the destruction of the room.

Head hanging, he didn't look up. "Yeah. It's my fault."

"Honey, it's nobody's fault. I just want to know what happened. I want to make sure that everyone is safe. All I'm..." She stopped as her nephew launched himself into her side, burying his face in her ribs, hugging her tightly.

"I tried. I tried so hard. I didn't know what to do. He kept coming and coming, and if Dink didn't come, he would have... would have..." William started crying again.

"Okay, honey. It's okay. I'm going to call Uncle Tommy, all right? You just hold onto me." Turning towards the door, Siobhan yelled. "Tommy! Tommy! Finn!"

Jennifer paced in their room. She had checked on the children four times so far and Finn knew that it would continue. She turned to him. "I'm going to cancel. I can't go now, the kids need me."

"Jen, they're going to be fine. Your brother is dying. You need to go. We have more cameras than Hollywood. I checked them. Shiv checked them. Jim checked them. There was nothing. No one came through the window. No one exited from the window. The kids were playing, Dink heard them yelling and got too excited and that's it. It was all too... I don't know, vivid. You know how kids get. They were into it and William insists that it was real. I swear I saw the Easter Bunny when I was a kid. He stole my KitKats. It was probably Shiv or Uncle William, but I could have sworn I saw the Bunny lifting my candy."

"Yeah, but..."

"Look, a rhyming man who isn't a man climbed in through the window, wanted to steal the kids and put them in a basket, was defeated by magic rocks and a glowing Dink. Sound reasonable? Spend time with your brother. Say your goodbyes. We'll be fine."

Everything that Finn said was rational and reasonable. He trusted none of it. If there was a threat, he wanted Jennifer away and safe. Her frailty after her stroke terrified him. Finn would have the kids sleep in his room until Jen returned. Shiv would stay with them and he would double the security.

It felt ridiculous to be so concerned about a boogie-man, but they led strange lives. There was nothing Finn wouldn't do to ensure that his children were safe.

Morgan had some difficulty understanding Jennifer, especially at night. As the day wore on and Jen became tired, the impact of her stroke became more obvious. Her enunciation was off, and her voice was slurred. She had a tendency to use words that she found easy to say, limiting her spoken vocabulary.

His voice rarely rose above the level of a whisper, but they would huddle together and talk for hours. When Morgan slept, which he did often, Jennifer would pull out her laptop. She had taken up one of her other self's hobbies and now corresponded regularly with leading mathematicians around the world. She was ignored at first, but that turned around when the grants she funded started to come in. Being a billionaire had its perks.

Of her three brothers, she was closest to Morgan. When she was fifteen, he had confided in her and told her he was gay. In 1965, that was an incredibly heavy burden to be carrying by yourself.

In spite of the expectations of the medical professionals she and Finn brought in, Morgan rallied. He was slowly improving, and they no longer considered where he lay to be his deathbed. Jennifer was to return home the following day to be there in time for Christmas week with her family.

That would leave her a few days to shop and prepare for Marisol's fiesta de quince años. Unfortunately, the young woman's birthday fell very close to Christmas. She was always the victim of exaggerated penury of friends and relatives who gave her a single present for both.

As they spent their final evening talking and watching a movie on her laptop, Morgan leaned forward and gestured for her to do the same. She pausedThe Princess Bride and leaned in towards him. His whisper tickled her ear.

"I know who you are. I don't know how it's possible and I'm not going to say anything to anyone, but I love my sister and I know who she is, even after all these years."

Jennifer started crying. "I don't know what you're talking about, Morgan." But her nodding head put the lie to her words. "I'm your great-niece," Jen went on, "but I love you more than you can imagine. I love all my brothers." Her tears fell on his frail arm as his fingers rested on her hand.

She felt a bit sad as Pete drove her home, but also light, free and unburdened.

Some of her tension lifted whenever she spoke to Finn or her children while she was gone. As convincing as Finn had been, something just didn't seem to be right. It felt as if they had dismissed William's story too easily. She called Shiv daily, talking about nothing in the hopes that her sister-in-law would volunteer the information that she was searching for: that her family was safe and protected.

Everyone was fine when she returned, and they fell quickly into their normal patterns. They lived life, loving each other, their friends and family. Plans were finalized to have Fred and Anna visit with their children and grandchildren.

Jennifer would often see Finn watching their son and knew that soon after he would find something for them to do together, just the two of them. Maybe they'd go to the market for groceries, maybe they'd take Dink for a walk or, most likely, they would take some meals to the elderly couple who had let William plunder their field of Montauk Daisies when he was younger as he searched for the perfect flowers for his eponymous Aunt Daisy.

All of the activities were a substitute for what he truly longed to be doing during the cold fall and winter. Finn wanted to be back on the water, clamming and fishing, his son at his side. He had the wherewithal to wield tremendous political power and had access to vast wealth, but he was most content when doing what he did as a teen and sharing that passion with his family.

It was father and son bonding that she supported but didn't get involved with. Their outings spoke of traditions and values, modeling behavior and preparing the next generation. Dink would join them and sometimes Finn's father, but they were the only others that were always welcome. There was something primitive there, something atavistic that reached back in the mists of time, something about fathers and sons and learning how to be a man.

Their interaction touched Jennifer on some deep instinctual level. Finn was the best father she knew and that resonated with her. She'd occasionally run her fingers over the scars on his spine and neck, remembering how he almost died protecting their son. Jen had a visceral certainty that their love was unique and without end.

All of her jagged edges fit perfectly into his, making two damaged people an unbroken whole.

Siobhan had difficulty holding back her own tears on occasion when she glanced over and saw her husband tearing up as he looked at his cousin, Marisol. She was beautiful in her quinceanera dress and he beamed at his cousin like a proud father. Tommy was going to be a great dad and that thought found a home in Siobhan's musings more and more frequently.

The two of them were paying for Marisol's party. It was held at the South Hampton QuarterHouse, a country club with exorbitant membership costs and a nouveau riche clientele. Siobhan and Tommy had little use for the tens of millions of dollars she was left by the elder Cynthia, her aunt in everything but blood. They spent it on their nephews and nieces and were happy to do so.

Siobhan spent time with extended family that she had never met or had met only briefly. They would hear Tommy, William and little Cynthia call her Daisy and unthinkingly do the same. She'd politely ask them to call her Siobhan, but there was steel in that request. Only three people in the world called her Daisy, and that number wasn't likely to change.

She had to grab Tommy on occasion and force him to sit down. He had a natural tendency to walk around and talk to as many people as possible. It was just his way. Tommy would shake hands, wander from table to table and talk to his family, many having arrived from Spain and Brazil. He wasn't the host though.

Unfortunately for Tommy, today that was the job of Marisol's father. Tommy understood and tamped down his gregariousness. When he did go to speak to people, he noticed William standing near the door, shaking hands with guests when they arrived. He laughed, shook his head and went on his way. The boy would be fine. There was absolutely no doubt that his mother was nearby, keeping an eye on him. People often said that it was hard to believe that he and William weren't related by blood. His nephew was as outgoing as he was, which brought much relief to Finn and Jen who were concerned about his isolated childhood.

The only time that William wasn't greeting people was when boys Marisol's own age were talking, or even worse, dancing with her. It wasn't a secret that the seven-year-old had a huge crush on the pretty teenager. She had a huge heart and never made him feel like he was an imposition. She spent too much time on her special day talking or even dancing with him or carrying around his baby sister.

Family flew in from Brazil on her father's side and Spain on her mother's. It was a joyous time, filled with friends and family. As it should be, Marisol was the star, but she let her friends share the limelight.

Siobhan and Tommy spent most of the evening in each other's arms, dancing to the band. Daisy's thoughts kept going back to Tommy being a dad and what their children might be like. She moved in closer and brushed against him. Daisy lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up. He saw her wicked smile, smiled back and wiggled his eyebrows. She laughed.

They were going to have an active evening when they got home.

Santa's robust laugh followed him as he entered the door. "Well, hello there! What a beautiful family." He looked around the room and spotted the large chair in the center. "William, would you mind if I used your chair?"

The suspicious child looked at Santa, as if gauging a potential threat. "How did you know my name?"

"A better questions is, why wouldn't I know your name? I've had your name on the Good List for seven years in a row!"

Finn couldn't help smiling as he squeezed Jen's hand. This guy was good, really good. He was worth every dollar.

Dink kept pushing his head under the man's arm, hoping for some pettings. He was usually a friendly dog, but this was a bit much. He lay down as Santa scratched his ear. Suddenly, Dink tilted his head and belly crawled to the door and lay there sniffing and whining. Santa called out over his shoulder. "Dink, be patient. It's okay."

William's jaw dropped. "How did you know Dink's name?"

"Can't dogs have their own Good List? And I think we'd all agree he's a very good dog."

He pulled a worn copy ofTwas The Night Before Christmas from his huge red bag and read to the children. Marisol held Cynthia on her lap and Tommy stood with his arm around Daisy's waist. When Santa was done, Marisol led them in a round of "Feliz Navidad", and her happy laughing spurred on Cynthia's giggling.

There were presents for everyone, including Dink. Jen took a swig of her hot chocolate and leaned into her husband. "This guy's the best. We need to book next year ASAP."

Cheeks red, eyes twinkling, Santa looked around the room. "Well, Santa has to get back to Mrs. Claus. You're a beautiful family." He looked around, nodding to Marisol, Tommy and Siobhan. "All of you, and I wish you the very merriest of Christmases."

He started walking towards the door when Finn approached him with an envelope. Santa shook his head. "No, no, that's not necessary. It's already taken care of. It does remind me, however. This is for you." He pulled a holiday-card sized envelope from his long red coat and handed it to Finn.