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Christmas was supposed to be family, hot cocoa, sledding, and running until your cheeks turn red and your hair freezes in the wind. This was what Darren had grown up with, and it was all he had known. His parents would make a great dinner on Christmas Eve- ham, mashed potatoes, deviled eggs, au jus, corn on the cob, and many desserts. Of course, there were fudge and sugar cookies on the side, and sometimes those were what he had for dinner. His parents would try and force him to eat at least three bites of ham before they went home, but sometimes he only managed two before falling asleep under the Christmas tree. The dinner took place at his grandparent’s house and it took the entire day.
His mother would get up early a few days prior and begin the baking. It was no small feat to make dozens of Christmas cookies every year. His mother would make plates for their neighbors- Herbert and Genevieve and Deborah; Emmah and Harold and their triplets; his dad’s parents; his mom’s parents; Tommy, Alan, and Steve; and Mr. Dalton were only a few of the recipients. The sugar cookies were first- piles upon piles of sugar cookies that needed to be frosted. Darren’s favorites were the angels. He and Annie would give them the silliest faces, and then their mother would roll her eyes (playfully, of course) before telling them to frost them normally , whatever that meant.
Darren and Annie would then deliver the plates and tins of cookies and fudge to their neighbors before Christmas Eve. Some of the neighbors were more receiving than others, but that was just Christmas cookie business.
This was his first Christmas without his family, and he was missing this little bit of tradition. He wished that he had been able to relish in the cookie delivery with Annie, or the cookie decorating and baking with his mom. Still, though, time goes on.
“Are you good?” Evra asked. Darren stared up at the sky and nodded.
“Yeah.” Evra frowned. This wasn’t like Darren.
The snow fell on the two of them in huge flakes- almost as big as the ones from Russia that Evra told Darren about.
“You should’ve seen St. Petersburg!” he gushed one day. “The lights, the windows, the decorations- all of them were perfect!” Darren nodded glumly.
“I bet they were,” he muttered. Evra bit his lip. Maybe Christmas was Darren’s problem. This was his first Christmas without his family.
“Do you want to help us decorate for the Christmas show?” Evra asked. Darren shrugged his shoulders.
“I guess.”
Mr. Crepsley scoffed once he heard Evra’s idea.
“I do not celebrate Christmas,” he stated, “and neither should my apprentice. He is a vampire now, and we do not celebrate such frivolity.”
“He’s also 11 years old,” Evra pointed out. Larten huffed.
“Fine- but you will be the one to clean it up.”
“Don’t fall!” Evra warned Mr. Crepsley.
“I do not plan on falling, Evra Von,” Larten hollered down. He was balancing on the trapeze in an attempt to hang garlands from the swings. It wasn’t his smartest idea, but it was cool looking at least.
The garlands were made of paper snowflakes and tree branches that Evra had scrounged up from the woods somehow. Larten didn’t ask questions as to where he got the oranges for the stockings, and Evra wouldn’t have answered him anyway. They preferred to keep it that way.
“Do you want a smiley face on your angel cookie?” Darren asked Evra. He nodded enthusiastically.
“Absolutely!” Evra shouted. “All of the smiles!”
“All of the smiles!” Mr. Crepsley echoed from the trapeze.
This was the first time Darren had ever seen Mr. Crepsley like this. He had never smiled, or laughed, or even walked jovially. Now he was hanging garlands and acting like a small child. Who was this man? This certainly wasn’t Mr. Crepsley at all ! The stranger that replaced him wore the exact same red suit, and the orange hair that clashed horribly with his outfit. He nailed the being ugly part! All he missed was the personality of a stuffed raccoon.
“How’s it going up there?” Darren hollered.
“Just fine!” Mr. Crepsley grunted. He almost had it. Just a few more inches…
“He’s gonna fall!” Evra shrieked.
“No!” Darren screamed.
“Do you two have such little faith in me?” Larten asked as he anchored the other end of the garland. “I will not go out hanging Christmas decorations- if I do, may Perta Vin-Grahl spit on me in Paradise!”
“Who’s that?” Evra asked. Darren shrugged.
“I have no clue.”
The show was magnificent to put it lightly. The lights were tinted red and green, and everyone wore their Christmas costume. Evra dressed up as a tree, of course- it was his choice every year. His snake was his garland since she was yellow. Sive and Seersa wore Christmas leotards, Rhamus Twobellies wore an outfit with actual Christmas baubles on them- and then at them during his performance.
As for Larten and Darren, they both wore red and green.
“Why don’t you celebrate Christmas usually?” Darren asked. Larten laughed lightly before tying his tie.
“You are so full of questions, Mr. Shan. Perhaps someday I will ask the questions,” he said, “and they will never run out.”
“Why don’t you though?”
“I have my reasons,” he said, “but this year I chose to.” He paused. “For you.”
Mr. Tall announced the trio- Darren, Mr. Crepsley, and their performing spider Madame Octa- and Larten strode toward the stage proudly. On his way, he ruffled Darren’s hair.
“Merry Christmas, Darren.” Darren grinned.
“Merry Christmas Mr. Crepsley.”