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After Christmas
By Kimmy
He sat himself at the head of the table. A dingy old television was in front of him, two chairs to his left and one to his right. He poured himself a cup of tea. A porn magazine, unread and unused laid in front of him, along with a rag tagged copy of Dickens' Great Expectations. He took a stale cookie and bit it. The counters were dusty with unmeasured piles of dust and the dishes in the sink seemed as if they were begging to be washed.
Somewhere in the background, he could hear a radio playing strains of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" as one of the kitchen's lights suddenly blew a fuse. He bit back his lip as he leaned against his chair and thought. Someone ought to have brought some extra bulbs. Now his task was to find them.
He stood from his chair and kicked at the crushed beer bottle that rolled from underneath the table. Shouldn't have had a party last night. He suddenly paused in mid step as he picked up someone's dirty socks and thought. Someone should have told him first because he went to bed early that night and at four in the morning woke up to the sounds of a random couple getting it on in his closet. He questioned the others about it, and somehow, one of them said, "Hell, it was a Christmas party."
Then he laughed and said, Ha! Christmas is tomorrow.
The pipes overhead rattled and somewhere down the halls he could hear the sounds of a couple arguing, the crashes of plates being thrown at someone and he could hear his own heart begging, Stop it, stop fighting.
He tried to hunch his shoulders to stop hearing the noise when the pipes overhead started to shake and quiver. Somewhere down the hall, he could hear a woman crying, then a man crying too, the pause of a kiss and the sounds of a door closing and the spring of bed coils.
He grasped one of the cabinet's door and pulled it open, only to find junk food. Packets of Japanese crackers, gummies, Pocky, the works. His eyes scanned over them as if they weren't even there. Then something caught his eye and when he reached for it, he could hear a little girl screaming, "Mommy!" somewhere overhead.
He grasped the cigarette packet tightly and shook the packet until one perfectly wrapped cylinder fell to his palm. He threw the packet back into the drawer and closed it shut as he felt the pipes overhead start to vibrate up and down, like the walls of the apartment next door.
He stared at the cigarette, this little rolled up thing that screamed Smoke me! Suck me! Bit me! And he understood why so many people enjoyed the sinful little things.
He gently placed the cigarette in-between his lips and caught a glimpse of himself in the broken mirror that hung in the hallway. He could have been a movie star. He could have been a Hong Kong action star, or better yet, one of those lovable goof-ups in Chinese TV dramas. He could have been the hot shot director or the worried producer. He could have been a famous J-pop idol singer, like his own idols, whose CDs and posters he worshipped.
He started to suck the end of the cigarette and and reached over for a lighter. His fingers smoothly ran against the lighter, causing a small but sinful sweet flame to flicker and dance to life. He could hear the pipes overhead start to die down, but he heard the radio next door start playing one of Buddy Holiday's sassy songs. The prefect atmosphere for my first smoke, he thought. Overhead, he hear the screaming of a woman. "Daughter all I want you to do is stop seeing this boy!"
The taunt reply of the daughter, whose sparkling eyes and red painted lips appeared too showy, too flashy for the home. "Boy and I are in love, Mami!"
The woman's voice now crying, laughing as she yelled. "I like Boy, but you are too young."
The footsteps of the girl as she ran to hug her crying mom. "I love Boy. It was a Christmas present."
The woman and the girl's voice mixing and twirling in midair, her tears mixing with her laughter. "He gave me a ring too, Mami." "Daughter, you are too young."
Thud went the lighter that he threw against the table and crash went his body as he slouched up against the wall. Maybe not. he thought. Can't let my body go to waste. Not yet anyway.
Telephone rang and he refused to answer it until the fifth ring. Let the caller wait. I don't want to talk to someone who doesn't want to wait for me. he thought as he twirled the unlit cigarette around and around his lips. Ring! Ring! He coughed to himself and start to clap along with the random madness playing in his head.
Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!
He smiled in stratification as he reached for the phone and pulled it to his ear. "Hello?" He bet he sounded like some cool bitch to the person on the other line. "Hello, Joey?" He could almost envision the girl on the other line, a young hot thing dressed in a tank top and shorts in the cold air.
He wanted to say something but instead put on a phony smile and said. "Not Joey. Wrong number."
The pipes overhead started to rattle again as the phone went click, along with his determined heart. Forget about the chance to meet the girl of his dreams. He was a man on a mission. The kitchen fixture needed a new bulb and he will find one.
He started to drift himself to the hallway, where boxes stood from the day they moved in, stood there, unpacked and unopened.
He never really paid attention to what was inside those small brown boxes. Whatever it was wasn't important. But now, because of his mission, he lowered himself to his knees, sucked the end of the cigarette and started to rip of the tape of the closet box near him.
Somehow, the sounds of a happy family drifted up from the apartment below him. He heard laughter of the children in the living room, the rustle of the naughty cousin who peeked under the women's skirts, the horny man who tried to make a move on the youngest niece of his best friend, and the whispers of the two who hid themselves in the bedroom, trying to make out without being discovered. He heard all this and somewhere in the back of his mind, he laughed along with the children.
He peered inside the box and saw Christmas cards of all things. A unopened, forgotten box of blue cards, whose pictures of dancing snowmen and swirling snowflakes still gleamed with the fake silver that outlined them.
How could this be here?
Then he remembered. He brought it with Yoji one day a few years back. Yoji jabbed him with an elbow when he paid for them. Who the fuck are you going to send these to?
Maybe I'll send them to you.
He picked three out of the twenty seven cards and started to head for the kitchen table. His mind started to multiply with the quickness of a young schoolboy who happened to be on crack for twenty one years of his life and just woke up with a new enlightenment.
Three cards. Twenty one left. Enough to last for seven more years.
The light was growing dim as he finished the last greeting of the third card. His handwriting needed work. He racked his brain, trying to remember the last time he wrote out an intelligent, witty message. After a while, his head started to hurt and he gave up trying to remember.
But ask him when he last fill out a receipt and wrote out a week's business in shorthand, he would chuckle and say, Hell! I did that just yesterday! And he would then point to Aya, who would be looking on with his cold lavender eyes and say, Just ask him!
Somewhere overhead, the TV started to blare on about some sort of sports broadcast as a red eyed daughter started dinner alongside her red eyed mother, a grouchy father grumbled about the radio that can't be lowered because the knob was missing as somewhere below, the naughty cousin got slapped in the face as his mother pulled him by the ear, the horny man got it on in the bathtub by offering his late wife's diamond ring and half his paycheck to the youngest niece of his best friend.
The door to the apartment creaked open and someone steeped inside, taking of his shoes before running across the worn living room carpet.
"Hey, anybody home?"
The boy who was growing taller, leaner, harder and stronger by the day, stepped into the kitchen, carrying bags of groceries, his eyes narrowing at the dimness in the kitchen.
"Ne, Ken-kun, are you trying to grow blind?"
Omi's face was surprised as he jumped from the table and took the bags out Omi's hands. "Never mind, just read the card." His face was excited as Omi sat himself at the head of the table and reached out for the card with the whimsical polar bear with a snowflake on its nose.
"Cute, Ken-kun." piped up Omi's voice as he started to rummage inside the groceries for a snack, only to pull out a six-pack of 60 watt light bulbs. The kid's a miracle worker, I swear. He thought to himself as Omi laughed at the card.
"Should I read this out loud?" Omi's voice was filled with the same laughter in his own. He turned to Omi and waved his hands. "Go ahead."
Omi coughed and started to read in a funny high-pitched voice,
"Now don't think for a moment, old chap, that I owe you big time. Its just that I was about to pull an Estella on you by not giving shit to you this Christmas but then I decided I always liked Joe more. You're one of the reasons why I brought these cards in the first place. To spread a little holiday cheer around to people who still believe in it. But you ain't never gonna see me don a red suit, grow a beard and gain about 250 pounds. I ain't THAT joyful.
Love always,
Ken-kun."Omi doubled up in laughter again as he smiled, his beloved and well-sucked unlit cigarette falling from his lips. He didn't mind. He didn't mind it either when Omi gave him a hug and fell back on the seat, pouring himself a cup of tea. "Thank you so much, Ken-kun."
He stood close by, smiling as Omi reached out for the last stale cookie. "But its a day late through. Today's the 26th."
He smiled anyway and rolled up the sleeves of his blue sweater. "I know."
"You knew? Then why did you bother to?"
"Its practice. For next year I mean."
Somewhere overhead, a red eyed mother and her crying daughter hugged each other as Boy and Father spoke of a wedding in June and twin boys named Kyo and Kyu as somewhere below, the horny man pushed away the youngest niece of his best friend saying keep all the money. But keep your virginity too.
Somewhere down the hall, the song "Jingle Bell Rock" - his absolute favorite holiday song- blared from the speakers of a radio that refused to be silenced as the pipes overhead started to sound like bell chimes themselves.
Omi placed the card carefully between his old journal and a faded picture of his family before turning to his desk, his essays and textbooks spread before him.
As Ken sat himself at the head of the table. A dingy old television was in front of him, two chairs to his left and one to his right.
He could have been a Hong Kong action hero like Jackie Chan. He could have been a lovable Chinese actor turned singer like Dicky Cheung. He could have been a famous idol singer like T.M Revolution. He could have been a starved writer like Charles Dickens or a famous traveling playwright like William Shakespeare.
But for now, he was happy being Ken Hidaka, sitting at the head of a worn out table, his tea starting to stick to the chipped cup. A porn magazine, unread and unused laid in front of him, along with a rag tagged copy of Dickens' Great Expectations. The piles of dust that littered the kitchen counters seemed to shrink in size as the dishes in the sink started to seem as if they were prefectly content.
And Ken Hidaka sat, practicing writing Christmas greetings to his beloved friends under the blare of a new light bulb.
There was always next year.
Author's Notes:
^^ I hope you liked it. Yes yes, this oneshot is a bit.... ^^ different. But what can I say? After reading the antholgy, Flash Fiction, and the first twenty chapters of Ender's Game, one tends to become different. A little background info:
DIcky Cheung is one of my all time favorite Chinese actors. He's a fantastic singer and jsut has these adorable eyes that make me foam at the mouth. *-* (A-hem)
Estella and Joe are characters from dickens "Great Expectations." For those who aren't famaliar with the book, Estella is a character that puts the word "bitch" in "bitch"y. I hate her, but she intrigues me at the same time! :o) And joe is just this sweet innocent man who helps the main chaarcter Pip.
Well, that's all for now! I hope everyone enjoys the fic and is keeping their holiday spirit alive...even if it is.. after Christmas.