A short story for Christmas when Kennedy was 8 years old. This was not written for small children.
It was, however, written for those who recently found out the truth about Santa Claus, a group to which my daughter now belongs.
Friday the 9th of December, 1988 – Parry Sound, Ontario
Kennedy wiped her nose on the back of her woollen mitten as she waited for her older siblings to pass her on the bus. The eight-year-old avoided eye contact with the other kids on the bus, fixing them on the grey leather of the seat back in front of her.
“Come on, kiddo,” Phillip said, pushing her hat down over her eyes as he passed.
Kennedy fixed her hat and got up, dragging her backpack by a strap behind her.
“Have a good day!” the bus driver called after her, but she didn’t answer the way she usually did.
Instead, Kennedy trailed after her sisters, her backpack bumping against her leg with each step.
“You going to be okay?” Phillip asked. He was still beside her and she hadn’t noticed.
Not that she cared. She shrugged.
“Can I check your eye?”
“Okay.” Kennedy paused and looked up at her big brother. “When did you get so tall?”
He chuckled. “Probably when I turned sixteen last year.” He bit the finger of his glove and worked it off before gently holding her chin in his hand and tilting her head toward the light of the moon. He exhaled slowly, the steam of his breath fogging the air between them before putting his glove back on. “That’s a beauty. It’ll be nice and purple tomorrow. Does it hurt?”
“Only when I smile.”
“Best not to do that then.” They started walking again. “Why were you fighting?”
“The big kids ganged up on Sadie,” Kennedy said. “I couldn’t let her face them on her own.”
Phillip’s eyebrows rose. “Sadie, your best friend, who wouldn’t hurt a fly? Why?”
“They were saying mean things. Telling the little kids that there wasn’t a Santa Claus. Why would they do that?” Kennedy sniffed hard. “Of course there’s a Santa Claus. Why make up such an obvious lie?”
“Let me get this straight,” Phillip said, frowning. “You heard some of the big kids telling lies to little kids, Sadie stepped in, then you joined her, and where exactly did the fighting come into play?”
“We were all yelling pretty loudly, and one boy took a swing at Sadie’s head. He was probably the biggest there. When she fell, I jumped on him and bit his nose,” Kennedy said unapologetically.
“Bit his nose?” There was a strange squeaky tone to Phillip’s voice, but when the eight-year-old glanced at him suspiciously, his expression was devoid of emotion.
“It was the only part of him not covered by winter gear,” Kennedy explained.
“Right.” He coughed. “And then?”
“We fought.”
“So I gather.” He sighed. “You’re going to get in trouble with mom.”
“I know.” She pouted.
“You were very brave to help your friend.”
She brightened. “You think so?”
“I know so, kiddo.” He pushed her hat down again and ran ahead, slowly enough that once she could see, she could chase after him.
The twins were still hanging up their coats by the time Kennedy and Phillip burst through the front door, rosy-cheeked and out of breath. Phillip’s jeans were soaked, but Kennedy’s snow pants had kept her dry.
Their mother was waiting for them, the baby on her hip. “Kennedy, it’s time for your bath.”
“Before my snack?”
“There’s a piece of cheese wrapped in cold meat on the counter. Grab it and let’s go.”
Kennedy brought her My Little Pony lunch box into the kitchen and left it on the counter next to the sink. Grabbing her snack, she returned to the front hall.
“You’re in trouble,” Eliza sing-songed, MacKenzie joining in on the second round.
Kennedy ignored them and trudged up the stairs. She could hear the water running in the shared bathroom at the top before she entered.
Monsters! Incidental Wedding Guests by Jen and Éric Desmarais is available now!
