Christmas: Wild Things
By Mary Combs
Copyright January 1999

The room was shrouded in darkness, curtains drawn against the late-afternoon sun. One strong beam slipped through a gap in the drapes. The only other light came from the soft glow of the Christmas tree. The only sounds were the faint drip of water from icicles outside the house, the hiss of dying embers in the fireplace, and the faint fluttering sound, too delicate to be called a snore, from the woman sleeping on the sofa.

He dropped to his knees in the shadow of the tree, and watched his prey.

Her back was turned toward him. The sunlight gilded her blond curls.... He was suddenly, vividly reminded of his sister at the same young age, life barely begun. He thrust away the memories and focused on the task at hand.

He crawled slowly toward her, growling deep in his throat. She didn't turn, but he saw her shiver in anticipation, clutching her teddy bear tightly with one arm.

He pounced, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in the sweet-baby-smell of her, the curls damp at the neck from her bath, and growled again. She struggled only slightly, enveloped in his embrace, her body shaking with laughter. Then, suddenly, the shrieks of delight became shrieks of terror, the cries of mock protest became all too real.....

He let her go, releasing the frantically struggling little body, and as he sank to the floor and curled himself into a ball, he heard running footsteps and caught the flash of light behind his tightly closed eyelids as the drapes were pulled open.

Natalie swept the weeping child into her arms. "Sweetheart, what is it, what's wrong?"

"Mobster..... Mobster bear," the toddler sobbed, pointing at Nick.

"Ohhhh. Well, we'll just have to fix that. I know just the magic for transforming monsters." Natalie shifted the weight of her precious burden to one hip, freeing her right hand. "Hocus pocus," she intoned, making elaborate motions in the air. "Dominocus.... Bibbity, bobbity, boo."

Nick relaxed, uncurling slightly and revealing a positively angelic profile, but he kept his eyes shut.

"Is that better? Is the monster bear gone?" Nat whispered, knowing better than to jump to conclusions where Fleur's imagination was concerned. The cherub in her arms nodded slowly. "So, who is that on our floor?"

"Ants and pins."

"Oh," Natalie nodded. "And what's the handsome prince doing?"

Fleur tilted her head to one side, considering the situation very seriously. "Sleepin'....Sleepin' *boody,*" she added, with emphasis. Struggling to keep a straight face, Nick took his cue and snored faintly.

Natalie laughed softly. "I couldn't have said it better myself. Now, how shall we wake him up?"

"Tissim."

"Good idea." Natalie bent and deposited the child on the floor. "There you go."

Fleur planted her small feet firmly and pointed imperiously toward her father. "No. *Mummy* tissim."

"Oh. Well, I think I can manage that.... If I can get down...." Nat added under her breath. With the aid of a neighboring chair, she managed to join her daughter on the floor.

"Let's see." She leaned over the motionless figure and kissed him on the nose. Nick didn't budge. "Hmmm. No reaction. I think we must experiment. Maybe *this* way." She kissed his eyes, once each. Still no response. "Hmmmmm..... Maybe over here." She bent her head to his neck and blew mercilessly on the most ticklish spot on her husband's body. Nick manfully withstood the torment and refused to stir.

"No, Mummy!" Fleur rolled her eyes heavenward in exasperation. "Not onna nose. Not onna eyes. Not onna neck. Onna mowf."

"Ohhhh! Good idea." Natalie bent her head and lightly brushed his warm lips with her own. Nick came awake ostentatiously, yawning and stretching, then captured his wife in a proper embrace, to their daughter's delight.

"*My* Daddy!" she crowed, launching herself onto Nick's outstretched form.

"That's me," he replied in a somewhat strangled voice, lying back on the floor, drawing up his knees and gingerly repositioning his daughter.

"My Mummy!" Fleur said, leaning back against her father's thighs and blowing kisses at Natalie, who was lying beside him.

"That's me," Nat said.

"*My* baby," Fleur said possessively as, with a regal gesture, she reached over to pat the soft rounding of Natalie's abdomen.

"Heaven help him, or her," Nick chuckled softly, under his breath, as he kissed Nat's temple..

"Are you okay?" Nat whispered. "She landed pretty hard."

"Well, I may need a doctor's attention.... later," Nick replied, slipping his arm around her.

"Hmmm..... at least a careful examination.... But first we're going to have to figure out how to get me up off of this floor." Nat rested her head on his shoulder as if getting up were the furthest thing from her mind at the moment.

"Merry Tissmass, Daddy," Fleur exclaimed as she burrowed into the warm space between her parents and snuggled down comfortably. "Merry Tissmass, Mummy."

"And 'God Bless Us, Every One,' " whispered Nick, as Natalie gently wiped from his face a single crystal tear, glittering in the sunlight like a diamond.

Finis

This story was inspired by an episode from a family Christmas long past. It is dedicated with love to my nephew, whose overactive imagination has blossomed into a creative spirit and who now towers over his Aunt Mary; to my father, the original "monster"; and to my mother, who has always wielded a very special magic.