“I just looooove Christmas so much!” the waitress from Casa de Waffle was shuffling alongside him, trying to keep up with his qucikened pace. Every since she had bonded with Chico, she decided that this was how she would spend her afternoon break every day, walking the dog with Augie. She was, giving him sloppy doe’s eyes which he hated so much. Aguie could never stand when women were sweet, he liked them better when they were brutal and rough. He knew how to deal with that. And anyways, everything at home is so sweet and soft. One would think Augie grew up in a museum, the way his father and Amy acted. Amy who he used to call mom, but now wished he could call ‘bitch.”
Augie nodded mutely, but he wasn’t really annoyed. The woman, Sandra her name was, began to grow on him. Thinking of Christmas always put him in a good mood. Funny thing is, he loved Christmas, too. His favourite holiday, ever since he was a kid.
“Are you spending it with family?” she asked as the rounded the corner. He snorted, knowing it was more likely he’d spend the special day with a nice, full supply of whiskey and cigarettes. Before he had time to answer, she said “Ohh, look, we can donate for the holiday!” Augie looked up, already feeling his teeth on edge because of the annoying bell that those salvation army volunteers insisted on wagging every minute of every day all the way until Christmas, until he saw the volunteer himself. He almost turned around and walked the long way home. The blind man which had given him such a scare was stationed there. Normally, Augie felt he had a pretty thick skin. He was definitely no stranger to urban living. But this man seemed to see into his soul, as silly as it seemed.
He forced himself to keep walking, telling himself there is no way the man would be able tell it was him. As they passed him, Sandra dropped a handful of quarters from her apron pocket into his collection bucket. He turned his eyes upon them and said in a slow, deliberate voice. “We all know that Christmas is a big commercial racket. It's run by a big eastern syndicate, you know.” Sandra laughed her smoker’s lung laughed and kept walking, without paying him much heed. Augie had since learned that this man was quite a character among these parts, and didn’t really phase anyone anymore. But as he looked over his shoulder, the man was staring at him steadily. Not blinking, not smiling.
“He always has the most creative quotes!” Sandra was musing. And something about her nasally voice commanded attention, so he listened. “That one’s from a holiday movie, I’m sure....”
“Charlie Brown’s Christmas,” Augie supplied.
“Yeah! That’s it! Look at you and your holiday trivia, hun....”
She withdrew a cigarette from her gaudy, leopard-print handbag and lit up. They were nearly in front of the Castle Apartments by now. She reached down and scratched Chico, always with the unnerving habit of holding her lit cigarette by his velvety-soft ear.
“Well Merry Christmas, hun. I’ll see ya when I see ya.” And with these rather unffectionate words, they parted and he rushed upstairs to get dressed for work.
***
“Finally, it’s about time!”
“Matilda, I’m 6 minutes early for my shift.”
“You disappoint me to no end!”
Augie sighed, tying his little apron around his waist. She appeared then from underneath the bar where she was rummaging around for her handbag.
“I hope you know, I should really fire you for that!”
“For what, Matilda? For being early to work?”
“Funny man,” she came right up to me and squinted at me, pulling a hideous face. “Don’t think I don’t know about your shenanigans last Saturday....”
He thought back for a moment, absently wiping off the bar with a wet rag. Then he remembered: that was his night in the church, the night he acquired Chico. He opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t have much to say. He didn’t want to give away unnecessary details if she only knew part of the story. Then again, he only knew part of the story. What if she knew more than he did?
But he need not debate, Matilda didn’t give him a word in edgewise.
“I talked to Sister Mary Clare and she told me all about you and your sinful, fucked up ways!”
“Wasn’t it you who told me I have a foul--”
“The orphanage, Augustus? The orphanage!? Of all the places to wander into, it couldn’t have been Isabella’s?”
“The....what?”
“AUGUSTUS, YOU TRIED TO ADOPT A CHILD! BLABBERING SOMETHING ABOUT BEING A GOOD FATHER TO LITTLE PEANUT!”
Augie felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. His father and who he’d assumed to be his mother had always called him peanut. Still, he couldn’t make head nor tail of what Matilda was trying to tell him.
“Matilda, I don’t know--”
“DON”T PRETEND LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT,” she looked positivly maniacle and she was advancing on him. He backed into the kitchen area, which was hot and cramped. “LOOKS LIKE YOU SETTLED FOR THAT MANGY MUTT WHEN SISTER MARY CLAIRE TOLD YOU THAT YOU NEEDED TO LEAVE THE ORPHANAGE!!”
The whole thing had a unnerving familiarity about it. He tried desperately to make sense of the situation. “Are you talking about Chico? He just showed up in my apartment one morning...”
“EVER WONDER HOW HE GOT THERE? YOU PROBABLY STOLE HIM, YOU MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A MAN!” She caught up a frying pan. This really would be quite comical if what she was saying didn’t hit so painfully close to home. Maybe this isn’t just one of Matilda’s hairbrained accusations.
“Matilda...” His voice was like that of the man trapped in the lion’s den with one angry lion. “Just explain to me what Sister--Mary Jane--”
“SISTER MARY CLAIRE!” she screeched and with one more lunge forward, she was upon him. He stepped back hurridly, his foot made contact with something slippery on the floor, and everything went black.
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