Kathy's Christmas Carol, Part 2
By Merz
Kathy Visits the Present 


I sat up in bed, blinking in the darkness, trying to understand where I was.
My bed. My loft. I was back home and my encounter with the Past had all been a
dream. Except my shoulders and arms felt stiff from my grappling with that
silly Spirit of the Past. I felt my lip and it did feel swollen from the
stupid sprite slapping me. Snapping on the bedside lamp I studied my skinned
knuckles. The shoulder of my flannel nightgown was torn. It had to have been a
dream, but somehow had been as real as buggery.

I sat on the side of the bed considering what to do. Two more spirits still to
come. First thing, I had to do better in my dressing than this torn nightgown,
precious to me for its age and durable warmth rather than its flattering
lines. If I had to go gallivanting again I needed to make a better appearance.
Surveying my armoire and the transitory racks around the loft I put together a
suitable silk pajama suit that would make acceptable eveningwear. I ran a comb
through my hair and stuck in a pair of gold hoop earrings before lying back
down on the bed to await developments.

Ticking through the faces and partial names of the fraternity boys I had
memorized proved as effective as counting sheep. Sheep I intended to slaughter
once I tracked them down and they failed to make a persuasive case for having
reformed and lived productive lives since their misspent college days. I would
make it a hobby in the next few months, building dossiers and reaching out to
two in particular wherever I might find them. Starting with the one called Syd
Honeycutt, who tried to humiliate Betty before paying her fifty lousy dollars,
then the one who had put the shaving cream on the wrist bells of Betty's
opponent. I dropped off to sleep somewhere in working out the details of
hanging Syd from a hook and starting to peel the skin off him in a single
large sheet. Planning a proper treatment for his friend Marlowe would await
another night of sleeplessness. My subconscious mind seemed to whisper
something to do with sticks, but I was too knackered to make sense of it.

I dozed for a bit, then jerked awake. Seated in my easy chair, the newspapers
and magazines it usually held stacked neatly enough at his feet, was my second
visitor. His appearance made me feel a bit more optimistic at once. He smiled
a hearty grin through a full ginger beard. Curling hairs showed on his
powerful chest above a sort of toga or robe-like garment. From his size I
quickly pictured myself crawling naked across his wide warm breast, teasing
him with little tugs at his chest hair while I delivered us both a memorable
holiday. If only my loft had a fireplace in front of which we could play out
my fantasy of stretching out on a living bearskin rug. Well, perhaps back at
his place?

"Good evening. You'd be the Present, then, wouldn't you? It's a pleasure to
meet you. I wonder if I might lodge a complaint with you about the conduct of
that other one who was here? I found his manners and sense of customer service
far below form."

"Yes, I represent Christmas of the Present. Trust me, I know how to treat a
woman as she deserves, unlike the Past."

"Well that is splendid. I never did enjoy dwelling in the past, and haven't
the temperament to look to the future for my pleasures. I believe you and I
might be well suited to each other. Shall be begin here or perhaps have a
little orientation back at yours?'"

"In good time. First I'm assigned to show you an example of a woman who is out
of place in the present and would just be more so if she were able to continue
her errors past tonight. Then we'll have a look at how the neighbors can be
expected to react to women who don't understand the proper order of things.
Here, take my hand and we'll get through the business quickly and have time
for that recreation you desire." He ran a large hand over his broad, flat
stomach and down toward his loins. My eyes followed and I clasped his hand
enthusiastically.

We arrived in a smoke-filled hallway by an open stairway. The building looked
like a decrepit hotel or apartment house, the paint chipped and the carpets
faded. Before us stood two figures in yellow fire fighter attire, one holding
an ax and the taller one an iron pole about four feet long. Lamps on their
helmets cut through the thickening smoke.

"Oh, I don't know. She works hard enough, and sure takes it all seriously.
Last week I saw her practicing taking her airpack apart and putting it
together blindfolded while holding her breath. She says she does that with all
the equipment she uses, just in case. And she called up my missus and
introduced herself when she got assigned here, so there wouldn't be any
misunderstanding about what might go on with a woman at the station when the
lights are off. Wanted the wife to call her first if she heard or even
suspected there was any hanky panky."

"That's all bull. She's a woman so she doesn't have any business in a
firehouse to start with. Then, none of us has any idea what she really looks
like. Like when we had those Scouts wash the truck? The girls were happy to
show us their bathing suits while they did the job. With her, she insisted on
wearing her turnouts. Said it was another chance to get used to wearing them
while she worked. So we just have her word that there's a woman under all the
clothes instead of just an incompetent man."

"That's another thing. It was chickenshit for you to assign her to wash the
whole truck by herself, let alone every ladder separately. And you come up
with that crap every shift so she never gets a chance even to sit down, let
alone catch an hour's sleep out of twenty-four. I'm amazed she can get through
a shift the way you ride her."

"We got our own hazing when we started out. It's just the way it works. When
she realizes she can't carry her weight here she'll quit and that will show
women shouldn't have been hired in the first place."

"We never got half the crap you load on her. And she still beat your time
carrying the dummy up the stairs and down the ladder in the practice last
month. I suspect she's strong as an ox, and will make a good firefighter if
you'd give her a chance."

"Just stay out of my way. I'm her training officer so she has to do anything I
tell her, and she has to swallow any rating I give. Where is she, anyway? I
told her to get those jacks up here and she's goofing off somewhere. We need
to shore up the roof so they can pull us out of here before the whole place
comes down. This corner's the last to go and the fire's getting close."

At that moment we heard a steady, heavy tread on the stairs and a short figure
dressed like the others in yellow fire fighter's garb trudged up, bent under
the weight of a pair of large mechanical devices, each taller than she was,
and a coil of steel cable. Even under the bulky clothing the odd proportions
of short legs and broad upper body suggested the newcomer would be Julie Hunt,
which helped me guess where we were visiting late on the night before
Christmas.

"Jeez, Mathews. You made her carry all that up here, while you and I brought
just an ax and a wrecking bar? I'm gonna let the commander know about this.
Here, Julie, let me give you a hand."

"I told you to back off. It's about time, girly. Drop that stuff so we get out
of here before the shift ends or before the walls start coming down. Blake,
you take off with this jack and set up down the hall. I got this end under
control. We'll place the jacks so the guys on top can cut through to us and
rig the hoist without bringing down the roof." The shorter fire fighter
shrugged and departed with one of the gadgets Julie had delivered.

"Hey, what's going on under your coat?" The fire fighter called Mathews
stepped back and stared as Julie's bulky jacket squirmed around her.

"It's nothing. Nothing important. Ouch!" A thin little leg extended beneath
the bottom of her coat, followed by a small half dressed child. Julie set down
her load and put a protective arm over the child. "She was hiding under the
table of the room next to where the ladder came in, down on four. I thought I
better bring her here before taking her out. Right after I found her the whole
floor down there exploded. We're cut off."

"I told you I cleared that floor. Are you trying to check up on me? Come here,
kid, let me have a look at you." The child recoiled from the tall fire
fighter, pressing herself closer against Julie's leg.

"I gave her a quick check. She says she was alone in the room all day and
night. When we get out we can clean her up before calling Children's Services.
They'll find her folks or whoever should be taking care of her." Julie quickly
set up the jack in the doorway and extended it to brace the doorframe and the
wall.

"Yeah, maybe, but first come down the hall with me. There's another room we
need to take a look at." Matthews led off down the intersecting hallway, Julie
and the toddler following hand in hand, the Present and I walking behind.

He led the way to an interior room and motioned for Julie to enter. As soon as
she and the child were inside he slammed the door from the outside and braced
it shut with the long steel wrecking bar he had carried.

"Sorry, girlie," Mathews called through the door. "If that kid was in the room
next to where the ladder came in she might have seen me pick up the accelerant
Marlowe stashed when he started this fire. I can't take that chance. It'd take
a jack hammer to bust you out of that room, but you and the kid won't be in
there long. The fire's already spreading through the floor below. We have
about five minutes until the place collapses. That's enough time for me and
Burke to get out, and I'll make sure you get written up for disobeying my
orders and going off by yourself so we couldn't save you."

The Present shrugged to me as Mathews returned down the smoky hallway. With a
large hand on my shoulder he led the way through the wall into the little
black room beyond. Julie's headlamp gave the only light in the closet. From
its glow I saw her sink down the wall to sit with her head in her hands.
"We're trapped. Just like I knew would happen if I came into the building. A
real fire fighter could break out of here, but I'm not strong enough."

"I think you're strong enough," the child whispered down at Julie. "I felt
your muscles underneath your coat. They're bigger than anything. I thought you
were a real firefighter, not just a woman."

"I'm just a woman," Julie replied softly. "I dreamed about this same fire. An
angel told me what would happen if I did anything more than haul gear and
clean up outside. People would get hurt and I'd get trapped in a burning room
I couldn't break out of. He said I was too weak to do the job. He's right."

"You talked with an angel? What did she look like?"

"I was dreaming. It was a man angel. A big one, with a beard." I glanced at my
companion and he stroked his whiskers and gave me a conspiratorial wink.

"Did he look like that man there? With the pretty red haired lady?" The child
pointed at us and Julie followed her finger with her head lamp.

"I don't see anybody there. A man and a pretty lady? I think you breathed too
much smoke. But I do have this funny feeling I sometimes get around certain
people." The Present seemed surprised and uncomfortable to have the child
pointing directly at us when we supposedly were invisible.

"Perhaps this is not an appropriate scene for us to be visiting. Sometimes
children can be very intuitive and actually perceive us. If she can, it might
disrupt the flow of reality," the Present whispered, laying a large hand on my
shoulder. "After your unpleasantness with the Past we do want these visits to
go smoothly for you."

I pressed against his large, solid frame and looked up into his face. "Perhaps
you're right, although I hate to leave. As you say, I have much to learn if
I'm to get my life back on course and it sounds as if Julie is getting a
message I haven't yet come to understand, about her proper role as a woman." I
fluttered my lashes and stroked his thick arm. After all, I am in retail and
learned long ago that making the sale can be worth a certain amount of
compromise with ones normal standards. "But you know best so lead the way and
I'll be right behind you."

He patted my hand again and turned to push his way back through the wall.

"If you can really hear me, little girl," I shook a finger at her, "you tell
Julie to get rid of the ridiculous coat so she can see what an incredible body
she built for just this sort of emergency. Make her show you her muscles and
then tell her to smash out of this place before . . ." The Present reached
back into the room and snatched me out by my collar, slightly tearing the
fabric.

"Some of my kind might be upset that you tried to interfere with events that
are out of your own plane of reality. But do you think I'm one of those?" His
voice was unctuous as he ran a finger as thick as a banger down my cheek. Then
he pushed the finger through the hoop of my earring and jerked downward. As
the wire tore through my earlobe an electric jolt of pain shot right through
to the soles of my feet. The pain was so unexpected I stood for a moment in
shock staring at my earring adorning his index finger.

A moment was all the time he allowed me before cocking his other fist and
giving me a smashing blow to the side of my face. The meaty fist knocked me
flat, almost unconscious. He strode over, straddled me and reached down to
lift me half up by my upper arms. "You're damn right I am. You smart bitch,
you think you made some difference with your interference? Even if that little
freak gets out of this, you won't be here to save her next time." His flat
hand crashed against the other side of my face, rattling my teeth and causing
an explosion of lights to dance before my eyes.

His attention was suddenly diverted by the sound of crumbling plaster and
cracking wooden laths. Another smashing sound and Julie's fist broke through
the wall. In moments she widened the opening, ripping out the clumbling
material with her bare hands. When it was wide enough she lifted the child
through and placed her outside the room. The tike was draped in Julie's coat
which fit her like a tent. Seconds later Julie had kicked and rammed a hole
large enough to crawl through herself. Her arms and shoulders were scratched
and bleeding, but I sucked in my breath at the sight of her magnificent
physique bare above the loose pants of her turnouts. The suspenders holding up
the trousers accentuated the breadth of her chest and her mountainous
shoulders. Her biceps ballooned as she swept the child up in her arms.

"The pretty lady is fighting with the bearded angel," the child told Julie as
flames began seeping up through the floorboards.

"Yeah, I can feel that she's here. I didn't believe it before, but I can feel
when people like her are around. I can't see her and I have to get you out of
here. And maybe take care of Matthews. I hope she still knows how to take care
of herself." She raced away toward the spot she had braced for the fire
fighters' exit moments ago.

"Now look what you've done." The booming voice of the Present cut through the
fog of my battered consciousness. My head lolled as I tried to gather my wits,
to find a way to fight back. He shook me, then let go with one hand to begin
pulling open his robe. "Say ah, bitch. Before our next visit I've got
something that'll stopper your mouth from causing any more trouble."

Whatever could he have been expecting? Perhaps this had been a huge mistake
after all and these spirits or portents or whatever they might be meant to be
bothering someone else entirely. But why, then, would they be putting my
friends and associates on display? So they meant to come for me, but somehow
they had no clue who or what they might be snaring in their net. They expected
some docile dolly, prone to collapse from a single blow or threat? Well, they
missed their mark with me.

Avoiding the long, hot cock being pushed into my face I sank my teeth into the
scrotum tucked behind it. My mouth hurt to bite, but bite I did. It wasn't the
expected consistency, but the effect was everything I might hope for. He
screamed in a piercing soprano, let go my arm and jumped back. Maintaining my
grip I let him draw me forward with him, gathering my legs under me. As he
stopped his futile retreat and raised a fist to try smashing me off him I
wrapped an arm around each of his thick thighs and heaved upward with a
backbreaking effort while pushing against him with my head. When he began
toppling backward I lifted his legs still higher and finally released my
fanged hold on him.

He took the landing on the back of his head and his shoulders. I pulled his
robe down, hoping it would tangle his legs and interfere with either his
flight or his ability to pursue me should running away become an attractive
option. The thick, fit body that had earlier held some appeal for me now
seemed a hairy abomination. In the second I took to spit a gobbet of my own
blood on him he had gripped his genitals in his big hands and coiled into a
quaking fetal position. I sprang at his exposed head.

"So your taste runs to mangled ears, does it? I'm happy to oblige." Again I
put my incisors to work chomping and grinding at the cartilage of his right
ear. I bit through and tore away, trying to do utmost damage in the shortest
time. The Present howled and convulsed beneath me, finally tossing me off, my
teeth rending a long furrow as they were dragged from their purchase. Before
he could gain any focus beyond his pain I was up again, planting my heel
between his legs repeatedly until he managed to twist aside and again clamp
his hands protectively over his privates. I heard windows breaking from the
heat as flames spread along the walls.

"I hope you're enjoying this, you disgusting sadist. If you're like that other
one you'll recover from the damage in a few moments and I shall get to do it
all over again. This can be our eternity together in the ashes of this
building, going over and over my recipe for bollocks pudding." He had resumed
his quivering fetal position, exposing the other ear for me to have a go at.
Surely at some point I would have an opening to get in a jab at an eye or his
throat. I certainly wasn't going to let him have a moment to recover or rest
as long as I had the strength to keep after him, and he couldn't hide every
tender portion from me at once.

"Please stop," he wailed as I dug my nails into the left ear and yanked so as
to begin detaching it from his head. "I can't stand it." Flames raced up the
interior wall, casting a dancing light on his contorted features.

"You've only to send me back where I came from and give me your word you will
leave me and my friends alone after this." I shouted to be heard above the
racket of a collapsing building. Curled on his side with one hand between his
legs, the other clamped over his left ear and the chewed up right ear pressed
against the thin carpet the Present gave me a clear shot to drive my knee into
his nose with crunching effect, and he was too slow to prevent it happening a
second time.

"Yes, yes. Grab my hand," he snuffled. Obediently, I grabbed the one he moved
from his ear to cover his flattened nose and wrenched the pinky back as far as
I could. At the point I should have heard the crack of bone or ligament
parting I heard a thunderclap instead and a blinding flash. My stomach
somersaulted as the scene around me faded into black smoke and raging flames.

Once more I awoke in my bed, dazed and disoriented. Every muscle throbbed and
my mouth tasted of my blood. My back ached from lifting the weight of the
Present. I ran my tongue over my teeth and felt a bit relieved that none
seemed chipped or broken, although some felt painful and loose. My God but the
Present had a vicious punch once it landed a clout. Without bothering with the
main lights I stumbled to the bathroom and examined my face in the harsh glare
above the sink. These lights ordinarily just accentuate colors so I can judge
such makeup as I wear, how well different tops and jewelry go with my eyes and
hair. Now they emphasized the harshness of dried blood from my ear and split
lip, the blue of the bruise on my cheek. The Present had done a real job of
work on me, nearly as thorough as I had on him once I'd sussed things and
found my footing. I nearly wept looking at my image, remembering the
hopelessness I had felt confronting all the ugliness he and the Past insisted
on showing me.

I reached a trembling hand to my torn earlobe. It didn't hurt so much as just
look ghastly, ragged and ugly, still oozing blood. I wondered if it could be
put right and not leave an obscene scar where the wire had been ripped through
the flesh. God knows I have a full collection of scars from various encounters
I don't discuss in polite company. But I had really hoped those days were
safely behind me, that I could now march through the years without wondering
if I would recognize my own face in the mirror each morning. A wave of nausea
churned in my middle as I handled the wreckage and tears began burning. I held
the two flaps together and closed my eyes, fighting to get control of myself.
Perhaps if I bandaged it up carefully and got some assistance at the emergency
ward in the morning it would all knit back together like new.

In a daze I stumbled back to the main room. With blood from my ear staining
the pajama top and its collar torn it was time once more to change outfits. So
far the night was taking a toll on my wardrobe, but I refused to compromise my
standards. I would not dress down for the next encounter and had to meet the
expectations of a future I could only guess at. Luckily fashion is my business
so the undying classics hold their honored places in my wardrobe along with
the trendy transients. I grabbed the proper dress from the armoire, the
matching shoes from the rack. I changed quickly and lay back down in order to
get whatever rest I could before the promised third visitor arrived.