A Christmas On The Ave

A Night On The Ave: Christmas Special

Twas the night before Christmas

And all up the Ave

There was merry and cheer

And fun to be had

Twinkling lights

Phoebe’s decor

And merry carols that weren’t a bore

Though for all of the hoopla

There was one dilemma

Marcus was alone

And caught in bad weather

Through wind and snow

Up the street he heaved

To get to the gifts

His friends would receive

I ran up the street, clutching my bag as I pushed through the wind. Christmas on the avenue is always hectic, especially when you forget to do most of your shopping. Between work and writing I had almost forgotten about it; it took Phoebe to remind me that the holiday was even coming up.

“You’re still coming to the party next week right?”

“Party for what? Your birthday isn’t for a while,”

“... Christmas Marcus. The Christmas party,”

“Christmas? Next week? No that’s not… oh. Oh damn,”

I felt like an idiot. Since the summer I’d been so preoccupied with everything else, it felt like I had barely seen my friends. My art and my future had suddenly taken priority, and it felt great having so much initiative over my work, but leaving everyone in the dust, it wasn’t right. They’d never say anything, but I know they feel neglected. So if nothing else, I was gonna give them a good Christmas. I was gonna make sure they all knew I cared, in spite of everything.

Up ahead there was a man waiting for me. He was bundled up, wearing a thick red coat, a white scarf and a funny-looking hat. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but I could tell he was staring at me. The air around him smelled like weed and brownies. He was doing everything in his power to look like a drug dealer, so much so that I almost thought I had the wrong guy. As I walked up to him, I prayed that the cops didn’t drive by and get any ideas.

“You Marcus?” he asked.

“Yeah. You Reynolds?” I chuckled. He was unamused.

“You have the money?”

“The stuff first,” I demanded. Learned that from one crime show or another. He came off the wall and dug into his pocket. From it, he took out a blank envelope and handed it to me. I took out the gift and inspected it. They were official, new. Right date, right city.

“This is good,” I took out the cash and gave it to him.

“Pleasure doing business,” I told him.

“Same to you brother. Merry Christmas,” The guy turned and walked down the alley. With a gust of wind he disappeared into the snow and darkness. I let him disappear and moved forward with my shopping.

I entered The Hollow and waited at the register. The shop smelled like hazel and vanilla; she loved burning expensive candles during the holidays. It added a new layer of comfort to the shop, and the scent always stuck to the books.

I had Amber put a book to the side for me ages ago. I planned on reading it myself, but I already had so many I hadn't gotten to. Besides, I knew someone else needed it more than me. She was in the back room moving boxes and humming “Santa Baby”. I knocked on the counter, and in a few seconds she appeared. She waved lazily when she saw me. I gave her a wave back, but she didn’t pa me any mind.

“You know you should’ve got this ages ago, right? We’re hours away from Christmas” she leaned against the counter and looked up at me. She was wearing a thick Christmas sweater and a santa hat. The ball fell to the right of her face and covered her eye.

“Yeah yeah I know. I’ve been swamped with work, but I wasn’t gonna forget about her,”

“Yep, can’t forget a thing,” Amber muttered just loud enough for me to believe it was an accident. Between the summer and then I had barely seen her. Shockingly, when you promise someone that you’ll do something for them eventually, and eventually doesn’t come soon, they get upset, and reasonably so, they start to hate you. It got so bad I stopped coming to the shop as often, and she stopped calling me. I would’ve ordered the book online, but that would only widen the gap between us. Looking at her then made me feel small and stupid. She had done everything but break things off,though I knew it was only a matter of time.

“Well here it is. I wrapped it myself. Thought maybe you’d be too busy working on yourself to do it,” she took the book from under the counter and dropped it in front of me.

“Amber can- can we talk? Just really quick I mean I-”

“No Marcus, no. I’m sick of talking. I have work to do. I’ll see you at Phoebe’s,” she turned and went on humming her song. Without another word she went into the back room, leaving me with my woe. Unsure of what to do, or what I would’ve even said, I took the gift, and left thirty dollars on top of the register.

“Keep the change ya filthy animal,” I say on my way out to lift my spirits. It doesn’t do much.

The snow comes down harsh, burying the ave with ferocity. I crunch with every step, and can barely see for the wind. Luckily, Phoebe’s isn’t far. It’s an open door night. No passwords, no age limit, any ole bum off the street is allowed. I march into the alley, eager to escape the cold. The old wooden door is shut tight; I throw it open and walk down the creaky steps to the sounds of jingling bells and heavy laughter.

The speakeasy was alive with holly and cheer. Reefs on the walls, lights across the ceiling, red and green streamers. She even bought a real tree, complete with its own lights, ornaments, and a small street sign to serve as a tree topper. Carson And The Moonshiners were on stage playing all the hits and making the room feel alive. Mei was next to the stage dancing and screaming her heart out. It was the one night kids were allowed in the easy, and every year she made sure her opportunity was spent well.

Phoebe was at the bar, serving a couple. No alcohol on Christmas Eve, but plenty of cakes, cookies, brownies, and eggnog. And real food for anyone who wanted to be a buzzkill.

“Someone's in a giving mood this year,” she said as she finished pouring a glass of milk.

“Yeah well you guys deserve it,”

“Did you get me something?” she asked.

“Not this year no,” Of course I did, but it’s mroe satisfying making her think I didn’t.

“Oh… alright,” she walked away to wipe down the bar, and I went to put my gifts under the tree. The stump was completely hidden by boxes and parcels. I placed my offerings on top of the stack, and made a mental note of where they were. Looking up, I saw Charles chatting and drinking a tall glass of wassel.

“Charlie!” Merry Christmas!” I shouted once his conversation ended.

“Merry Christmas Marcus. You clearly did plenty of shopping. Someone must have a big book deal on the way,”

“Oh I just saved up is all. Besides, any success I have I owe to you all. So if I can pay it back, I will,”

“Don’t say that. You’re plenty talented, you don’t-”

“No no. I’m nothing without you and all the other people around me. It takes a village, or something like that. Anyways, you deserve a whole heap of gifts and then some, I just got what I could afford,” I told him. He was speechless for a moment. Then he smiled.

“Well thanks again man, thank you. I’m gonna go get you an eggnog,”

‘Yes! Yeah, yeah sure. I’m gonna grab a seat,” I love eggnog so much I love how thick and flavorful it is and any chance to get some is another sign that God might be real.

I sat watching the band play for a bit. They were doing Billy Idol’s “Yellin’ At The Christmas Tree” and playing like the room was on fire. They were a small group, and because of it they had a lot of synergy. It always showed in their music, in the way they looked after one another and supported each other during their performances. They played to their strengths, and supported each others weaknesses. It was truly a coming together of sound, rather than just noises happening next to each other. I always loved their performances, though their skill was quickly overshadowed by a loud shout, which came from the stairs by the bar.

“I got promoted bitch!” Don jumped down from the stairwell, holding gift boxes and big bags. The speakeasy erupted with applause; he had done it nine times in the past two weeks, but we were all so happy for him, and every time he announced it in a way that deserved claps and high fives, or a drawn out hell yeah if your hands were tired. In a flashy show of joy, he tossed all his gifts by the tree and hopped on one of the tables.

"Everybody, this is going to go down in history as the-" a bottle of whiskey flew across the room, and shattered against the back wall.

"Get the hell off my table! I don't care what you did, this isn't a damn musical!" Phoebe hollered. Don climbed down from the table and stood with his hands behind his back.

"Damn my fault. Okay, this is still gonna be the greatest Christmas of all time," he tried to save himself from embarrassment, but the whole lounge was cracking up. On hectic nights Phoebe was allowed one violent outburst or deranged scream of exhaustion. It was the least we could do with how hard she works, but she appreciates it all the same. As she went to clean the mess, I walked up to Don.

"Hey man, congrats again,"

"Thank you Marcus, it really means a lot. Here I got something for you," He reached into this back pocket and pulled out something small. Then, concealing it in his hand, he came in for a dap up. I followed his lead, pulling him close and patting him on the back. When it was over, I found in my hand a gold plastic card. It read “Free Admission For Up To Five Showings at Street’s Cinema”.

“You good?” he asked, watching me whip around frantically.

“Yeah, I’m just tryna find the angels and the pearly gates next,”

“Huh?”

“I mean I gotta be in heaven after getting this thing,” he chuckled once it clicked.

“Thanks man, you have no idea how much I appreciate this. Believe me I’m abusing the hell out this thing. You’re gonna get tired of seeing me,”

“I mean, you’re in there all the time anyways. If I was gonna get sick of you I would’ve done it already,”

“Well that was before this. Now I’m picking my movies wisely and showing out for every one of them. I’m talking about excessive amounts of snacks, themed outfits, talking you to death about it afterwards, the whole nine yards. 2023 is gonna be the year of cinema, just you watch,”

“Aw yeah I bet. You enjoy yourself bud, I’m gonna go get a drink,” he left for the bar, thinking I was kidding. I took my wallet out and put the card safely inside. That theater did not know peace again, until that card had been completely exhausted and ceremoniously cut in half.

The party went on well from there. We all stuffed our faces with pastries and swapped stories. Something possessed me to take the mic and start screaming whatever lyrics I could think of. I wasn’t drunk or anything, just stupid stupid. To this day the band have not let me live it down. The only silver lining is that Mei got a good laugh out of it.

I was playing Uno with Don, Leonard, and our resident florist Holly when the bell started ringing. Phoebe was standing on a table by the bar trying to gather the room's attention.

“Oh, but she gets to stand on the tables. Seems a little racist to me,” Don commented.

“Well they are her tables,” I reminded him.

“True, true. But still,” Slowly, everyone stopped what they were doing and focused up.

“Alright everyone, it is officially Christmas day!” she announced. There was light applause, mixed with the sound of chairs moving as everyone jumped up to gather around the tree. Usually I would’ve called them a bunch of impatient bastards, but I was getting antsy too. In a moment we surrounded the great big pine tree, either on the floor or in chairs, leaning on each other and sharing our warmth.

“Okay, who’s going first?” Phoebe asked.

“Well, I feel like Marcus got the most stuff. Makes sense to get him out the way now,” Don said.

Everyone turned to me, unopposed to letting me hand out my gifts. I guess in hindsight it’s because most of them knew they had gotten something from me, conniving ass people.

“Oh okay then. Well um, let me get everything,” I reached down and grabbed all the gifts I had laid out. As I came back up, I met Amber’s gaze for a moment. She had come in before my grand performance, and clung to the bar until it was time to open gifts. Before I could think anything of it, she turned away and took a sip of eggnog. I looked to Phoebe, who was quick to shake her head no.

“Alright then. Well, Merry Christmas everyone. I’ve been living here for a few years now, and I just wanna say-”

“Don’t just say anything. Just give us the gifts and text it to us later. Damn you love to talk. Always with the words and speeches, you should be a writer or somethin’, man,” Leonard interrupted. He got grumpy when he was tired, and running the Wishy Washy alone always left him a bit sleepy.

“Yeah, I’ll start with you Lenny,” I handed him a nice round box. He tore the paper off quick, and flicked the lid off the box. As soon as he saw it, his eyes went wide.

“Oh man oh man! Look it yall, I done got me a new hat! Aw man,” he took the hat and gently placed it on his grey head. He traced the brim then flicked it.

“Oh yeah Marcus, this is official. Thank you man, thank you very much,”

“You’re welcome. I got tired of hearing about that ole beat up hat you like being lost, so I knew I had to either burn it or replace it. You’re lucky I couldn’t find a lighter,” I told him. He nearly fell back in his chair laughing. Everyone was happy to see him enjoy himself.

“Alright,” Leonard said, wiping his eyes, “Alright I won’t take up no more time, lets get on with it,”

“Okay. Don, here you go,” I handed him the envelope with a big smile, though he didn’t bother hiding his disappointment.

“Aw nice a letter. Yeah um… I’ll read this later,” he said. I figured his hands were dying to crumble it up and throw it away.

“Open it now. It’s not a letter,” I said. He lifted the flap not thinking much of it. As he took out the tickets, his jaw dropped in the most literal way possible.

“Bruh are these Slipknot tickets? How the fuck! How did you get these? Are these even on sale?” he asked, tearing up at the sight of the tickets.

“They’re yours and that’s all that matters. Enjoy bud,” he stood up and gave me a hug. As he sat back down, he carefully put the tickets back in the envelope, and tucked the envelope in his pocket.

“Amber,” she looked up at me, with surprise rather than animosity.

“In spite of… well… well I’ll just give this to you. You make of it what you’d like,” I held out her gift. Reluctantly, she took it, and peeled back the paper with a heartbreaking indifference. Once it was revealed, she looked at me with a glimmer of joy in her eyes.

“You… you got me Pillow Thoughts. The whole collection,”

“I… I mean I know you love books, but anything not in the shop you order for the shop then read during downtime. But you um… you read me a poem out of the first book once, while we were in Target looking for something else. And a few months later, you really wanted to read the poem again, but you couldn’t remember the name of the book. So I did some digging, and I found it. You did too, but you either never had the money to spare or forgot about it. And I… you uh… I hope you like them,”

She was quiet for a moment. Then she wiped her eyes and put the books by her feet.

“Thanks,”

“Hey um… c'mon do me next. I mean, I mean my gift. I’d like my gift next. If you got me one, that is,” Charles said, trying to save the two of us.

“Yeah man, here you go. I got yours and Mei’s,” I gave him the gift I got from Amber, and another rectangle shaped package. He gave them both to Mei, who was eager to open anything that night. She tore open Charles’ gift first.

“Oh nice, it’s some new stationery and pens for dad,” he said, taking the stuff from her.

“Daddy you’re so boring. Why don’t you ever ask for toys for Christmas?”

“Yeah dad, next time ask for a ball or a Barbie!” Phoebe exclaimed with a smile on her face.

“Yeah c'mon daddy, why don’t you ask Santa for a train or something?” I went on. He gave a small chuckle of embarrassment.

“Okay okay, I’ll ask Santa for some Lego’s next time, but I really do appreciate what I got this year,” I smiled and nodded.

“Dad, I think this is yours too,” Mei said as she held a book up to Charles. It was orange, with a drawing of noodles being grabbed with chopsticks on the front cover. The spine read “Crying In H Mart By Michelle Zauner”. The book was all about coping with grief, and keeping memories alive through food. Mei lost her mother young, and I always felt terrible about it. I hoped that maybe the book could somehow ease the pain she couldn’t yet process. In an instant, Charles recognized the memoir.

“Marcus I… oh God,” he backed away from the group as he started tearing up.

“ I know she might be too young to really understand it, but I hope she grows up with it and maybe finds some comfort in it. I never got to meet her,” I said, being careful not to use the word mom or mother, out of fear for Mei’s tears, “But I know she was wonderful, and I know loss is never easy. I’ve lost people too and I just… I want to do something for her and for you. I know it’s just a book but-”

“It… It’s more than enough. It really is,” Charles pulled his daughter close and held her face in his hands.

‘Tell Marcus thank you honey,”

She turned to me with a big grin on her face.

‘Thank you for the book Marcus!” I gave her a thumbs up, and blinked away my tears as I reached for the next gift.

“Phoebe?” I asked. She perked up. Without another word, I gave her a small box wrapped in purple paper.

“You said you didn’t get me anything?”

“Yeah and you fell for it. Now open it up,” she tore away the paper and opened it up. As she laid eyes on it, she let out a sharp gasp. It was a snowglobe, with a scene of her working the bar inside it.

“Is this here? Where did you even get this?” she asked in amazement.

“My buddy draws and his sister does crafts. I took some photos and paid them to make it for you. There’s usually nothing but stains and bottles up there, I figured you could use some nice decorations,” she got up, and walked over to the bar. As she stood there, she looked at the rows of bottles, then back at the globe. Once it had been well appreciated, she set it down in the middle of the counter, where all the lonely thinkers and sloppy drunks could see it.

“Welp, that was the last of it. I hope you all liked everything. I know I haven’t been around much lately, and that these are just things, but once I have everything squared away I’m gonna spend all the time in the world with you guys, I promise,” I told the room.

“Well regardless of it all, we’re happy to have you here now. And while you are here, I think everyone would be okay with you getting your gift next,” Phoebe walked to the bar and went into the back room.

From it, she wheeled out something large and rectangular on a dolly. It was covered in a big white sheet so I couldn’t tell what it was.

“Phoebe what the hell did…”

“Everyone pitched in for it. Go ahead and look,” she said. I turned around; everyone was looking at me with excitement, except Amber, who stared blankly at the gift. I stood up and walked over to it. Phoebe backed away to give me space. I took the sheet in my hand and tugged at it. With one swift move, I pulled it back and revealed…

“A Galaga machine!” It stood tall in all its retro glory. The screen was right at my eye level, and its controls barely showed any age.

“You have all the books and movies in the world, so we all figured you needed to get something truly special this year,”

“Well… well damn I mean, thank you guys. Thank you so much I just… I don’t deserve you all,”

“We don’t deserve you either,” Charles said proudly.

“Merry Christmas Marcus!” Phoebe shouted.

The rest of the night was spent in quiet celebration. After all the gifts had been given, we sat around in joy, eating and playing cards, while Dontai and Becca ended the party with slow drawn out bass riffs and calm drum melodies. Once the tables were covered in crumbs, and the eggnog had run dry, we all packed up our things and shuffled out the door.

“You need me to help clean up?” I asked Phoebe as the last of us went to leave.

“No, I'll be okay. But you really should watch up to Amber. I’ll help you move the cabinet tomorrow,” she told me.

“Okay, I’m on it. You take care Phoebe,” I gave her a hug then dashed up the stairs. I burst through the door and returned to the cold alley, my face being stunned by the wind. Up ahead, Amber was rounding the corner on her way home. I ran to catch up with her, nearly colliding with the pavement face first in the process.

“Jesus are you okay?” Amber asked. I was bent over, panting and struggling to speak.

“Yeah I just… we need to talk. If you want to, that is,”

“Sure. We live in the same building anyways, we might as well walk home together,” she said as she continued to walk. I collected myself, and started to follow her.

“Look, I don’t want you to think I’ve been avoiding you, or that I don’t like you anymore, or anything like that. This book has been a huge undertaking, and I just… I let time get away from me. I know I led you on, but I just wanna say I’m sorry,” I said, and as I did it felt like something inside me was breaking, some sort of load bearing pillar. And with it, came the collapse of something, and a great rush. Whether this complicated feeling was good or not would be decided by her next sentence. I was sick with anticipation as I waited on her response.

“Jean-Paul Sartre says that hell is other people. Not because other people are bad, but because of our relationships with people. The ways they trap us and make us judge ourselves, the ways we try to appease them and satisfy the notions we assume they have. I think that’s true, but I also think that, maybe by admitting to each other how we feel, we can combat this condition. Through honesty and openness we can make life easier for one another. Do you see what I’m saying?” she explained.

“I do,” I told her, and I meant it. I knew too well, and I could tell that she did too.

“When you never took me up on my offer, whether you meant to or not, I was hurt. I felt forgotten and unwanted. Then, as time passed, I got bitter about it. But now, after everything, after seeing you, and getting this gift, and being with everyone tonight, I just… I wanna move past it. I don’t wanna be mad at you forever, and I don’t want you to feel like you did something wrong,” she went on.

“But Amber I did. I hurt you, I ignored you. I completely disregarded your feelings. You said it yourself, you felt horrible, and it was my fault. Whatever shame I feel I deserve,”

“Yeah, maybe all that’s true. But you can’t harbor that guilt forever, and I don’t want you to. Whatever happens with us next, you have to let go, for your own sake,” We stopped there, in the doorway of our building. Under the dim fluorescent light, she looked beautiful. I thought about what she said, all her knowledge and her elegance. Her way with words wasn’t surprising, but when she had something thoughtful to say, it always took me back. I was speechless. There were plenty of things I wanted to say, but none of them felt good enough for her.

“Thank you for the books Marcus. I’m gonna pour over them every chance I get. I really do appreciate you. You have a good night,” And with that, she went inside, and headed upstairs to her apartment. I sat on the stoop for a moment to process the day. A creepy scalper, a holiday party, an arcade cabinet and a lost love. The night was more than complete, yet less than satisfying. I didn’t know what to make of it then, but I knew in the new year, I had to be better. A better friend, a better listener, a better lover. I love my friends, I love my community, and I was happy to have spent the holidays with them. They had done so much for me, and it was time I returned the feeling. I went inside full of glee and hope. Glee for the beautiful people I’ve surrounded myself with, and hope that they continue to take me as I am, as I become who I want to be.