The Christmas Card

The Christmas Card

Make believe she’s invisible, a ghost. 

Pretend that you are blind, almost.

She’s just someone I used to know.

Why she is here I don’t know.

I’ll try to calm her down.

She’s upset. Probably, having a breakdown.

I’ve not seen her for years.

It wasn’t much of an explanation

but it was all Les could say about the situation.

Ruth was an old flame and 

Brenda would not understand.

Why did she come round to his apartment?

How did she even find him?

He was at a loss to explain.

He was more concerned about how it would affect Brenda.

He wished it would all go away.

“Ruth, what are you doing here?” he asked her.

She replied, “I was just in the neighborhood 

and thought I’d stop in and see my favorite litterateur.”

“How did you even know where I live?”

“From your Christmas card.”

Surprised, he turned and asked Brenda, who nodded the affirmative.

“OK fine, you know me, and this is Brenda, my wife.

Now we are just about to go out.”

“Oh, that's fine, I just wanted to see if you were, you know, enjoying your new life?

Could I have a glass of water?” 

“Brenda, could you get Ruth some water?”

Ruth rose from the sofa and headed in the direction of Brenda.

“Thanks Brenda, I just need a sip. Ugh!..ooh..ah.” Ruth said as though in pain.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Ruth inquired.

“There.” Brenda said, pointing.

“Thanks, Ugh!…Ah” Ruth groaned again.

"Brenda?” Ruth called from inside the bathroom.

Brenda went in and they spoke in a low murmur.

When Brenda came out, she crossed the floor and whispered to Les.

He became disgruntled, arose, and started to leave, but he was stopped by her.

“Make sure it’s Pamprin…not Midol or any other,” she whispered,” she insists.”

He thought as he left, how lucky he is that the pharmacy is just a block away.

He’d be back soon enough, and they might still get to dinner on time. 

The pharmacy was slightly busy.

He wandered the aisles, looking for what he needed, in futility.

He found a clerk who referred him to the pharmacist.

“I’m sorry Sir, we are all out of Pamprin. Know why?"

Someone came in yesterday and bought our entire supply.”

Les was furious. “Should I walk home and get the car

or walk the three blocks to the next drug store?”

He opted for the hiking.

Once there, things went more to his liking.

He got what he needed and a bottle of Seven-Up.

Heading home, he tried calling Brenda, but she did not pick up.

He texted, “Be home soon.”

All the distance home he rehashed his long-ago relationship with Ruth.

He’d left her early one morning and never returned.

He thought she was unstable. She had trouble telling the truth.

At her place and in public she would do things that were strange.

She’d argue with waitstaff, cab drivers, anyone who came within range.

Her home was pristine, her closets organized,

as were her bills and she’d bark at him if he left anything unfinalized.

“No loose ends.” she would say.

He checked his phone as he entered the lobby.

They would be late for dinner and may have to make other plans.

“No text back from Brenda, that's odd,” he thought as he switched hands.

Maybe Ruth was just being snobby.

He exited the elevator on the third floor

and noticed what was half-way open, their entry door. 

He called her name as he entered, “Bren…”  He dropped his package

and nearly fainted. Brenda was strung up hanging from the ceiling fan

with a knife in her chest, piercing a Christmas card that was written over in blood

“NO LOOSE ENDS."

911 responded to his call. Arrived and asked him to recall

what had happened, to the best of his ability. 

He retold, the events of the evening, dutifully

several times before his release occurred. 

His last words to the two detectives were

"You have to catch her, She’s insane.”

They never did.