Grandpa coughed and lit his pipe. “I believe Gloria thought Sam would see her first, not Ivy. He was supposed to be back that night, but he ended up being with that whore until the morning and arrived late.”
“It’s a tragedy.” Grandma shook her head. “They both have made a mess of poor Ivy’s life. A pure mess. And he had the nerve to try and fight us for custody, when Ivy can’t even look at him without screaming, Murderer. Lord help us. Now we’ll have to do our best to clean this mess up.”
Grandma turned to Grandpa. “Bill, you done dropped your pipe and got all this stuff on the floor. . .”
Grandpa never responded. The newspaper lay on his chest. His hand dangled over the chair’s arm. His head leaned back into the chair. His eyes were open along with his mouth.
“Bill. . .” Grandma hurried to him. “No, baby. Bill?”
“Get me out of here.” I walked down the hallway. “I’ve already seen this. I don’t want to be here.”
The glowing man called after me. “Ivy?”
“I’m leaving. I might as well get this nightmare over with.” I opened the front door. Swirling red energy filled the doorway. Tears left my eyes. I didn’t walk through. I just stood there.
The glowing man appeared next to me and touched my wet cheeks. Instead of wiping them away, the tears left my cheeks and floated in the air. They sparkled like stars. The swirling red energy sucked them in.
“Do not cry,” the glowing man said. “We never die. That particular life just ends.”
“But it’s sad.”
The glowing man nodded. “It is. But you’ve gone places that many haven’t already. You’ve come here. Surely, you see the beauty in death.”
I had no answer.
“Grandpa, how big do you want the stripes?” Younger Me yelled from the bedroom and rushed out. “Grandpa? Grandma. . .why are you crying?”
“I can’t be here.” I stepped through the red energy and entered a new living room. I recognized the area immediately. It was my grandmother’s new apartment. After Grandpa passed, she couldn’t stay in the old house anymore. They’d lived there since my mother was a little girl. It held too many memories.
Younger Me sat on the couch, wearing all black and watching Holly put ornaments on the small Christmas tree. She just stared at the tree as if it were the most disgusting symbol that ever existed. Younger Me shook her head. “What is the point of this?”
Holly ignored me. “I think the theme should be blue. Saint, find all the blue ornaments.”
He rolled his eyes and rummaged through the box. He’d changed from the earlier visions of him. Now he was tall and would be growing more. There were more differences too.
I smiled at the glowing ghost. “I remember this. It’s Saint’s bad boy phase.”
At thirteen, his parents would never let him get tattoos. Therefore, he drew symbols on his fingers, arms, and neck. He wore all black—jeans, shirt, and a beanie. He’d pierced both of his ears to his mother’s horror. Apparently, he’d stolen a piercing needle from some store, sterilized it, and poked holes into both ears. Thankfully, he never got an infection.
“What if there aren’t a lot of blue?” Bad boy Saint grabbed a few blue ornaments and brought them to Holly. “What’s the point of the theme?”
Younger Me nodded. “Seriously.”
“News flash. We’re decorating.” Holly stared at us as if we were insane. “It’s fun. Are you kidding me? And get some more blue, Saint.”
“I quit. This is stupid.” Saint groaned, walked over to the couch, and dropped down next to Younger Me. “Besides, Ivy isn’t even doing it anyway.”
Younger me shrugged. “Because I don’t see the point. It’s just a tree.”
“Guys, it’s not just a tree.” Holly pointed at it. “It’s a Christmas tree. This is the tree that helped the wise men find Jesus.”
Younger Me laughed. “No. It’s not.”
Holly looked pissed. “It is.”
“There’s no Christmas tree in the bible, Holly.” Younger Me shook her head. “It was just a star.”
“Just a star!” Holly shrieked. “It was the star of Bethlehem and it was on the top of the tree, leading the three wise men to the son of God.”
Saint laughed. “And then they all had eggnog and stuffed stockings? And Santa came into the manger and grabbed Mary’s tits.”
Holly’s face turned red. “You’re going to hell, Saint.”
“I hope so.” Saint grinned. “I like warmer temperatures anyway.”
Younger Me high-fived him. “Good one.”
Someone knocked at the door.
“I’ll get it!” Grandma hurried out of the kitchen and glanced at the tree. “Aww! Holly, you’re doing such a great job. I love the blue.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson.”
Grandma rushed off. “Looks like Holly will be getting extra cookies for jumping into the Christmas spirit.”
“As I deserve.” Holly stuck her tongue at the both of us.
Saint flipped her off.
Younger Me looked at the letters on his fingers, grabbed his hand, and brought it to her. “These are new. What does it say?”
Beaming, he didn’t move his hand away. “It says Devil’s Rejects.”
“I’ll get my own ornaments.” Holly snorted in disgust from the other side of the room and headed to the box of ornaments.
Younger Me read more of the words on his fingers. “What’s the Devil’s Rejects?”
“A Rob Zombie movie. I brought it along if you want to watch it.”
Younger Me nodded. “Sure. I have a DVD player in my bedroom.”
“Guys!” Holly held her hand out. “That’s not a Christmas movie.”
“At least there is a baby in it.” Saint laughed.
“That movie is about psychopaths.”
Younger Me brightened for the first time. “Now that sounds good.”
“Just come on in.” Grandma returned with her friend Maude. “Nikolas, my granddaughter is over there with her friends. You can help them decorate the tree.”
A boy nervously said, “Sounds good, Mrs. Johnson.”
We all looked up. Using a walker, Maude eased into the living room. Her grandson Nikolas trotted after her, holding a big book in his hand. I checked out the title but only could see the author was Stephen King.
“Hey. That’s Stephen King.” Saint grinned at him. “You like horror too? We were just about to go to Ivy’s room and watch the Devil’s Rejects.”
“The Devil’s what? Lord Jesus. We’re not doing anything with the devil’s name in this apartment.” Grandma shook her head. “Saint, you come on in the kitchen with Maude and me. You can help us with dinner.”
Saint frowned and dragged himself up. “Yes ma’am.”
She glanced at him. “You ever cooked anything before?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Good. You need to learn something useful so you stop drawing crazy things all over yourself.”
The glowing man got in front of me. “It’s time to go, Ivy.”