Christmas is Cumming

I did everything in my power to try to slow my heartrate, but it felt like it was about to explode out of my chest. I'd managed to steady my breathing and keep my outward appearance calm, but every muscle in my body was tensed, and my heartrate was jacked.

I took one last glimpse at my phone: less than a minute to go.

I was poised like a cobra ready to strike. The poor sap at the door never had a chance. When he hit the button to unlock the sliding doors, all hell broke loose.

2020 had been the year of the pandemic, and Black Friday shopping was no different—or so I'd believed. Many stores had opted to remain closed throughout Thanksgiving Day and open early the following morning. Rather than permit large crowds, some stores had decided to issue online vouchers for products or urge customers to buy their products online and pick them up curbside. For the stores that were still permitting the Black Friday rush, covid restrictions were largely in place: face masks and social distancing. The scene at my local Wal-Mart was different.

What had started as an orderly queue of shoppers abiding by the store's covid policies had turned into a barbarian horde at the gates of the store. The line grew tighter as people tried to keep line-cutters at bay and tempers frayed. By the time the clock struck 5:00am, it was clear covid wasn't going to stop the rush. When the store employee unlocked the door and it began sliding open, a man who looked to be about 20 and had timed his approach perfectly, took a running start from the street and bounded over the people in line, knocking a middle-aged woman over in the process. Instead of filing into the store in an orderly fashion, the gathered mass of people took their cue from him and began pushing into the store. The employee managed to jump back just in time to avoid getting trampled. I heard a cry of, "Stop, you're stepping on her!" as I tore through the entrance, but could only offer my silent thoughts and prayers and hope that whoever was stepping on her had the decency to help her up. I had one thing on my mind as I sprinted towards the electronics section at the back of the store: a Playstation 5.

Sony's release had been a total shitshow. My boyfriend had tried in vain the past couple months to preorder one online every time there was a report that a store had more preorders available. But he came up empty handed every time. No sooner would he have the site loaded up that the preorders sold out. I even tried my hand at it a couple times thinking that double the effort would double our chances. I got close one day by getting as far as getting it into my cart and clicking to confirm the order. But then the website hung waiting to confirm the purchase and ultimately told me the item was out of stock. My boyfriend got depressed about the whole thing, eventually gave up, and resigned himself to getting one sometime in 2021. Me, being the big-mouth girlfriend I was, told him not to worry and that Santa would bring him one for Christmas.

Getting the Playstation 5 proved more difficult than I expected, as I was repeatedly beaten out on the websites by people who set up bots to buy them out as soon as they were listed. As November unfolded, I started hearing rumblings that there would be some Playstation 5s physically in stock on release day, but I came up empty-handed. And then a week later, I heard about another batch being released for Black Friday and was determined to get one.

And so, the day after Thanksgiving, I found myself sprinting through a Wal-Mart with other shoppers like infected zombies from the movie World War Z. I'd had the good sense to wear a hooded-sweatshirt and no coat to maximize my speed.

A roped off area off to the side of the electronics sales desk and a sign saying, "Playstation 5 Line Begins Here" awaited us when we reached the back of the store. The store employees were almost cute in their misguided belief that they could tame this crowd with nothing but a few pieces of plastic rope and a plastic sign. The first man to the line ran through it like a sprinter ripping through the tape at the end of a race. The two hapless souls manning the store's Playstation event tried to step into his way with outstretched arms, but once it was clear he wasn't going to break stride, they stood aside. The man ran straight past them to the small stack of Playstations behind them and snatched one up before fleeing the area with it held above his head like a war trophy.

The employees didn't even try to stop the rest of us as we stampeded over their carefully built plastic queue which now lay trampled on the floor. Watching the crowd descend upon the stack of Playstations was probably like watching a pack of jackals fall upon a carcass.

Somewhere in the mass of arms and legs, I managed to get my hands onto one of the elusive white boxes. As I pressed it against my chest and turned, a hand grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked it back, throwing me off balance. Not wanting to release my prize, I tumbled backwards, going head over heels and smacking the floor with enough force to make me momentarily see stars. The bright store lights above grew dark as faces appeared above me and strangers reached toward me. I clutched the Playstation tighter to my chest as I realized they weren't faces and arms of help, but rather they wanted what I had. I quickly lost control of the box as it was yanked in every direction as the desperate people around me tried to pry it free from me and each other.

"Fucking let go!" was all I managed to scream as the box slipped from my grasp. To add insult to injury, an unseen hand slipped into the mass of people and grabbed a handful of my right breast through my sweatshirt. And then, to add injury to insult, a sharp pain shot through my leg as someone stepped on my thigh. I howled in agony and swatted at the leg attached to the intruding foot until it moved. I slid my body across the floor away from the crowd with my uninjured leg while clutching my aching thigh.

Once I was clear of the carnage, I leaned my head back against a half-empty shelf of Gumy headphones and surveyed the scene. It was like watching a disease-induced apocalypse. People ran to and fro with face masks and a look of derangement in their eyes as if getting their hands on electronics was the difference between life and death.

"Hey, are you alright?" One of the electronics employees was standing next to me with a hand outstretched. He was a gangly kid who looked no older than 19 or 20. Even behind his face mask, it didn't look like he'd had a need to shave a day in his life. I took his hand and got to my feet with his help, but cried out at the pain that shot the length of my left leg when I put weight on it.

The poor kid was looking at me like a beloved pet that he might have to put down. "I'll be fine," I reassured him.

His forehead and cheeks crinkled, and I could tell he was grinning behind his mask. "Sorry about that," he said, gesturing at the remnants of the Playstation chaos. A broken cardboard display of a Playstation 5 was all that remained. If we'd been in a cartoon, a tumbleweed would've rolled by.

"Yeah, well...so much for expecting people to be halfway courteous the day after Thanksgiving," I said as I leaned back against the shelf behind me for support.

"We tried to set up the ropes and—"

"Miles! Get your ass on the desk. We got sales to ring up." A barrel-chested man in an ill-fitting Wal-Mart shirt was glaring at him from the next aisle.

Miles gave a wave of acknowledgement before turning his attention back to me. "Are you gonna be alright?"

Only then did I realize he was still holding my hand. "Yes, I said I'm fine." I pulled my hand free and hobbled my way away from him before stopping in my tracks and rolling my eyes. I turned back to see him still watching me. He raised his arm in an overly enthusiastic wave. "Thanks," I muttered before turning back around and continuing to limp away.

I shut my eyes to block out the disappointment. Truth be told, my pride hurt more than my leg. I'd lost my last good chance to get my boyfriend a Playstation 5 by Christmas. For now, I'd be back to the websites trying to beat out the scalper bots.

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at an Amazon Echo. I wasn't really in the market for a replacement, but pity-purchasing always cheered me up. The one I had at home was from the previous generation and had been acting oddly lately.

I grabbed the box and hobbled over to the electronics checkout line. For all the chaos that had unfolded a short time prior, the line to checkout was much more orderly even if extremely long. After what felt like an eternity, I reached the front of the line.

"Next, please," a voice called from the far end of the desk. I turned and started in that direction and found Miles waiting for me. His face crinkled up behind his mask again.

"Do you ever stop smiling?" I asked, slightly annoyed at how someone could be so cheery amongst the madness of the store.

This only seemed to make his smile bigger. I rolled my eyes and pushed the Echo across the desk toward him.

"Will that be all today?"

"Unless you have any more Playstations in the back, then yes, this is it."

There was a flash of something in his eyes that I couldn't quite make out as he paused before picking up the Echo and scanning it. "Yeah, it's a shame about those. They're really hard to get right now."

"Yes...I know. Remember? I got stepped on trying to get one." My head was starting to hurt as much as my leg.

"Oh right...," Miles looked down sheepishly. "Umm...I can go check to see if I can get you some ice or something."

"No, just the Echo." I gestured at it when I noticed he was still holding it in his hand.

"Sorry, I just, uhh, here you go," he said, holding it out to me.

"Could I get a bag?"

"Oh, sorry." Miles snatched up a plastic bag and fumbled with it trying to open it. I could see beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. Once he got it open, he dropped the Echo inside and handed it over. "That'll be 69—" he chuckled and snorted. I frowned and raised my eyebrows as he struggled to maintain his composure long enough to read off the cash register display. "Sorry, that'll be 69.13."

"Sixty-nine, huh?" I muttered, indulging his juvenile sense of humor, which drew a chuckle from him. I swiped my debit card and confirmed the purchase before selecting the option to receive an electronic copy of my receipt instead of a paper one.

"Right on, save the trees," Miles said as he watched me.

I offered a half-smile from behind my mask until I realized he couldn't see it anyway. "Thanks."

"No, thank you," Miles said with a wave.

I spun on my heels and retreated from the desk before he could make it any more awkward. My thigh was still in pain, but the Echo in my hand had taken out some of the sting.

By the time I got home, I only had a slight limp, but it was enough for my boyfriend to notice as I walked in the door.

"Hey, Jules, how was your shopping trip," he said before eyeing my leg and the bag. "You ok?"

"It was great," I said quickly, trying to hide the bag behind me and pretend to not be in pain. "Well, not great, but good. It was good."

"What happened to your leg?" he said, staring at it.

I straightened out my leg and hoped he couldn't read the pain on my face. "Just a light ankle sprain, I'm good, really."

He didn't look convinced but dropped the subject. "What'd you get?" he asked, craning his head to try to get a better view of the bag behind me. "Something for me?" His face broke into a wide grin.

I silently cursed myself when I thought back to how close I'd gotten to getting the Playstation. "Oh, this? No, it's nothing much...hey, did you hear back from the leasing office about whether they're still raising rent at the end of the year?"

"Yeah, they said they sent you an email about it."

I nodded and gingerly slid past the end of the couch when he turned his head back to the NFL pregame show. I made my way into the kitchen and filled a sandwich bag with ice and wrapped it in a paper towel. I unbuttoned and lowered my jeans, revealing a faint bruise on top of my left thigh. I cringed at the feel of the ice as I applied it to my skin. I pulled out my phone and flipped through to my email, and sure enough, saw an email from our leasing office. I frowned as I read through their cheerful words about how they "hope this email finds you healthy and safe" and "due to the ongoing pandemic and blah blah blah give us more money."

I closed and discarded the email and was about to go check my Facebook messages when I saw an email just below the one from our leasing office: "Still Need A Playstation?" It definitely looked like spam, and I didn't recognize the sender. Common sense told me I should discard the email without even reading it, but desperation forced me to open it.

Dear Julieta,

Right away I was put off and figured the email was spam. Anyone who actually knew me called me "Jules."

It's Miles. From earlier today. At Wal-Mart. I hope you don't mind but I got your name and email address from the card reader when you were checking out. If you're still looking to buy a Playstation 5 I might know a guy who can help you out. Call me at this number if you're interested.

I wasn't sure what to make of it. The idea that he pulled my information off the card reader was incredibly creepy. Still, the chance that I might be able to buy a Playstation was almost too good to be true.

I set the email aside for almost a full day before I called the number in it. It rang three times, and I was about to hang up when someone picked up.

"Hello?" I immediately recognized the voice as Miles.

"Hey...umm...it's Jules—Julieta. I...uhh...got your email."

"Hey! Jules? Sorry, I thought it was 'Julieta' because that's what it said on the card reader."

"Yeah, that's fine. I just go by 'Jules.'" There was a lull in the conversation. "Soooo, anyway, I got your email," I repeated.

"Oh! Right! Hang on a sec." I could hear him talking to someone in the background. When he got back on the phone, his voice was just above a whisper. "So, yeah, I can sell you one. But I want to move it quick, because I'm trying to save up for some Christmas gifts."

Him wanting to 'move it in a hurry' set off alarm bells in my head. "Wait, is it stolen?"

"Stolen?" His voice got momentarily loud before returning to a whisper. "Why would you think it's stolen?"

"Because you said you have to sell it quick."

"Well, if you must know, I'm not selling it just for Christmas presents," Miles sighed, "it's for my tuition too. The rest of my fall semester bill is due. My financial aid didn't cover the whole thing. I've got to sell some stuff to pay it off or I can't enroll next semester."

This was enough to make my heart ache. I'd experienced my own financial troubles during college and knew how crazy it made you to have money standing in the way of your educational dreams.

"How much do you want for it?" I braced myself for an obscene price. Scalpers that bought up bunches of Playstations at a time online with their bots were charging over $1500 dollars in some cases. I hoped to be able to talk Miles down to $1000.

"Just the 500 dollar retail price. I'm not trying to get rich off selling it, just pay my tuition."

I nearly dropped the phone. "Ok, sure, I'll buy it," I said quickly as if he might change his mind any second.. "So...how do we do this?"

"I'm still at work right now. If you could come by tomorrow, I could get it to you then."

"To the store?"

"No, to my house." He spoke as if selling it at the store was as absurd an idea as selling it on the moon. "Well...my parents' house."

Another alarm bell went off in my head. I'd heard a million stories of girls and women disappearing off the face of the earth after meeting with strange boys and men in strange locations to buy stuff. "Your parents' house? I don't know about that. Couldn't we meet at a public spot or something?" I tried not to sound like I suspected him of being a serial killer.

"Transportation is a little tough for me. Look, I don't want to put you to any trouble. I'll manage to get it sold somehow."

I smirked at his attempt to sound pitiful. Playstation 5's were so hot you could probably sell one on a city bus. And this is what had made getting one for my boyfriend so tough. Serial killer or not, I had to try this.

"Alright, fine," I sighed with extra emphasis to let him know just how annoyed I was with the arrangement.

He gave me the address, and I immediately put it into Google Maps when I got off the phone. I scanned the location in street view and was only mildly surprised to find that the address came back to a simple, two-story house with a cute flowerbed in front and not a dead-end alley. I continued to scan around the street with the streetview mode. The house was along a picturesque cul-de-sac that didn't necessarily seem consistent with serial killing. Still, I'd be on guard.

The next afternoon, I pulled down the street toward the house until its white exterior popped into view. As I approached, I studied both sides of the street for any obvious signs of someone watching me. I circled through the end of the street and drove back past the house coming to stop partially in front of the house next door. I looked back at the house in my mirror for another couple minutes before I called Miles and told him I was outside.

"I'll be right out with it," he said and hung up.

As I waited for him, I spotted a light blue minivan turn onto the street and start heading down toward me. When it got closer, I could see a middle-aged blonde woman driving it. She turned to look at me as she passed and offered a smile and wave as she slowed down and turned into the driveway of Miles' house. She got out and went to the back of the minivan where she was met by a teen girl who I assumed was her daughter based on the similarity in facial features. The woman retrieved several small bags from the minivan and handed them to the girl who began carrying them to the front door. Just as she got to the door, I saw Miles coming from around the side of the house carrying the most beautiful thing: a white Playstation 5 box. Miles carried it up through his yard toward the street but stopped cold in his tracks when he turned his head toward the woman in the driveway, who was still rummaging in the back of the minivan. He looked in my direction, back at the woman, and then made a beeline back to the house and disappeared back around the side of it. I had no idea what to make of it. The woman didn't appear to have seen him. She grabbed two bags from the minivan, closed the door and walked to the house. As I sat trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, my phone started ringing. It was Miles.

"What was that? Why'd you go back?" I tried not to sound overly irritated.

"My mom and sister are home. I don't...I don't want my mom to know about it." His voice had an edge to it that I couldn't place.

"You don't want her to know about what?"

"She doesn't know my financial aid didn't cover my full tuition. I don't want her to worry." There was a long pause. "Do you mind coming around to the back door?"

I took a long look around the cul-de-sac. If Miles was a serial killer, he'd be hard-pressed to kill me in broad daylight in a neighborhood like this, especially with two other people in the house. "Alright," I sighed, "I'll be there in a sec."

I swung my legs out of the car and walked around the back of my car toward the house, cell phone in hand, ready to send an emergency call to 911. As I got around the side of the house to the back, I saw Miles stick his head out of the back door. It was a little strange seeing his full face for the first time, and I suddenly realized he was seeing mine for the first time as well since I'd left my mask in the car. He had the face of a baby attached to a 20-year-old's head and body. Just as at the store, he was grinning as I approached and stepped out of the house to greet me.