Fiction

By Jay Scott Kanes

THE same song played incessantly. No matter where 10-year-old Jerry Caruso wandered in the department store, the lyrics bombarded him.

“Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse open sleigh….”

Ridiculous! Jerry thought. We never get snow here in Hong Kong. Slightly annoyed, he twitched his freckled nose and finger-brushed at his unruly brown hair.

Then his right sneaker splashed into a dark puddle left by someone’s spilled cola. He lost traction and stumbled against an approaching man whose bulky belly nearly smothered him.

“Careful. Mind your step.” A hefty hand gripped Jerry’s shoulder, steadying him.

“Sorry.” Jerry peered up into a bearded face.

“Ha, ho, calm and careful – that’s the ticket to avoid accidents.” Long white hair, a matching beard and a business suit made the guy look old.

Warily, Jerry pulled away. Mother often warned him against talking to strangers, so he hurried along to the next aisle.

“O’er the fields we go,
Laughing all the way….”

The horrid music never stopped. Jerry sighed, anxious to concentrate on more important issues.

Toys! At last, Jerry stood among shelves of packaged video games. Slowly, he scanned the vast choices: sports, combat, strategy, simulation and more.

Briefly, he viewed the on-screen action as a Chinese man jiggled a joystick, playing a basketball game that pitted the Houston Rockets, with Asia’s favorite player Yau Ming, against the Dallas Mavericks. The Rockets trailed by four points.

Hailing from Canada, Jerry preferred ice hockey. He’d gladly fill his Christmas list with video-game titles, but Mother had restricted him to selecting two. She insisted that past games had turned him tubby since the family moved to Hong Kong.

With only five days until Christmas, Jerry had waited too long to post his demands to Santa Claus at the North Pole. He’d need to search the Internet for Santa’s email address.

“Hmmm! I wonder…. Let’s see.” A voice from behind the shelves alerted Jerry that the bearded man lingered nearby. “I need so many gifts, so many.”

Jerry studied the packages and read game descriptions. How could he select just two? Time passed. His dilemma lasted until he began a little dance thanks to a full bladder. Seeking relief, he pushed through a swinging door that led to a staircase, a narrow hall and restrooms.

The bearded man walked ahead. As the old guy approached the stairs, one of his shoes stubbed the floor. Thrown off-balance, he tipped forward like a toppled Christmas tree.

“Hooo-hoooly reindeer,” the senior citizen bellowed, plunging, his arms waving and grasping. With a thud, he crashed onto a narrow landing midway to the storey below.

Fascinated, Jerry gawked at the figure sprawled facedown, legs oddly splayed. A moan spiraled upward. Abandoning caution, Jerry descended two steps at a time.

“Are you alright, sir?” He crouched by the fallen man.

The bearded face turned. “Help me up, son.”

Tugging two-handed, Jerry guided the accident victim to a seated position. “Should I telephone 999? Call an ambulance?” the boy asked.

The man shook his head. Blood trickled from his nose. Jerry proffered a rumpled tissue.

“Thanks.” The oldster dabbed and then jammed the tissue into his leaky nostril.

Again, Jerry asked, “Are you alright?”

Leaning against the wall, the bearded fellow pushed upright, standing. He wobbled and then steadied. “I’ll be fine,” he gasped. “The jolt winded me.”

“Calm and careful does the trick,” Jerry said. “Remember?”

“Good advice.” The oldster shot his benefactor an amused look. “You’re a worthy youngster. At first, I doubted you. Even I’m wrong sometimes.”

Puzzled, Jerry frowned. Then the old guy spoke again. “Helping a stranger shows goodness. By caring for other people, you give the greatest gift.”

Naw! Jerry thought. Video games make the ultimate gift.

“I think you’ll have a merry Christmas.”

“Thanks, sir,” Jerry said. “I wish you the same.”

“What a wonderful time of year!” So saying, the bearded man carefully continued downstairs.

Momentarily as Jerry returned to the video games, a familiar sound reached his ears.

“Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells,
Jingle all the way.”

Suddenly, the song made more sense. Who cared about snow or scorching heat, sleighs or Star Ferries, jingle bells or honking horns? The Christmas spirit flowed from human kindness. So it did, Jerry thought.

“Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh.”

(Song lyrics, Jingle Bells, composed by James Pierpoint, 1857)

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