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I closed down his blog page, but I held my phone in my hand as a strange idea began to form in my mind.
What if I could change that for him?What if I could make him view the Christmas spirit the way he used to?As an adult, it was all worry about the costs of buying gifts and stress over cooking the perfect Christmas lunch.Well, maybe not for him since he was never in one specific home, but even so, something was inherently missing from his view of the season these days.
Grabbing a notebook and pen from under my coffee table, I wroteRe-Writing Christmasat the top of the first page.I chuckled.He was the writer, andIwas going to helphimre-write his outlook.Hopefully.
Barely needing to think, I began writing, smiling to myself as snippets of well-buried memories pushed themselves to the surface of my mind.
When I was done, I read over everything I’d written, making sure it all looked right, then I ran upstairs to my tiny home office to grab an envelope.I put the note inside and scrawledDonovanon the envelope before running back downstairs and putting on my shoes.Since I was only going to be a second, I didn’t bother with a coat, nor did I lock the door.I just opened it, rushed to June’s place, then pushed the envelope through the letterbox.Not hanging around in case someone came quickly, I hurried back to my own house and shut the door, leaning against it to catch my breath from the speed of my sprint.
Operation Re-Writing Christmas was about to go live.
Chapter6
Donovan
“Didsomething just come through the letterbox?”Nan asked, following a soft clicking sound from the hallway.
She and I were sitting in her living room, neither of us saying anything as the TV played in the background.I hadn’t been listening; I was too busy catching up on some of my favourite blogs that I’d missed over the last few days.
“I’ll go and check,” I said, standing from the sofa.
“It’s probably just junk mail.”
I expected her to be right, so when I saw a white envelope on the brown doormat, I said, “Looks more like a Christmas card.”
I reached down to pick it up, but right away, I could tell it wasn’t a card unless it was one of those really flimsy ones.The envelope was way too light.I carried it back to the living room and handed it to Nan before sitting down again, continuing to look at my phone.
“This is for you,” she said, offering it back in my direction.
My brow furrowed.“Me?Nobody knows I’m here.”It wasn’t as if I knew anyone who lived in town anymore, aside from my grandmother.
She seemed to be trying to conceal a grin, and I took the envelope from her and tore it open, pulling out the contents.Inside was a folded A5 piece of paper which had writing on both sides.I opened it up, and my eyes widened as I began to read.
Donovan,
I’ve just read your most recent blog post.I can’t decide if you were trying to talk up this town or say it is somehow beneath you.However, I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt.For now.
I have a proposition for you.See, there was a time once, even though it was only short, that Christmas meant hanging out with you.My friend next door who came to visit.The way I see it, we’re back where we started.You’re here for the holidays.You’re next door again.I don’t know what the hell happened on your travels, but it seems to me you need a reminder of the good side of small-town life and an even bigger reminder of what Christmas is all about.
This is what I’m deeming our Christmas hit list.We have about two and a half weeks until Christmas.So, we’re going to be kids again.We’re going to revisit our old traditions and do things we used to enjoy.Take off your cynical adult head.Leave your judgements at the door.It’s time to re-write Christmas.
I turned the page over and found a list written on the back.
1.Festive flashbacks
2.Slip not
3.Late night cruising
4.Keep it sweet
5.Judge me
If I told you what each of these things meant, I know you wouldn’t even try.Admittedly, if I had more time, these ‘clues’ would be more imaginative, but I’m not the writer here.So, pick one that sounds appealing, and we’ll give it a go.They don’t have to be done in order.Let me know if you accept this mission in the usual way.
In the usual way.
Wow.I’d forgotten.When I stayed with my grandad before, Nova and I used to post letters through each other’s letterboxes.It started when, after we’d met for the first time and played together, Nova’s mum had said she could invite me over the next day, and she’d done so by posting a note through my grandad’s door.I don’t remember exactly what it said, but it was an invitation to go and play.My mum thought it was cute, and she told me to send a note back.For the whole week I stayed there, even if we’d been together most of the day, we would post letters back and forth until it got too dark to go outside.
