Silent Night: A Christmas Story

He sat on the balcony that was built into the roof of his house, sipping the last of the beer and looking at the bright stars. Christmas Eve was different in the Northern Hemisphere he thought. Up here in the mountains of Northern Thailand it got cold too, it must be less than ten degrees now and would get down to three or four later. It would have been a night like this that Jesus had been born. Like anyone with an interest in history he never doubted the existence of Christ, it was the religion and some of it’s followers that he couldn’t stand.

The small brown woman came up the stairs and saw the empty bottle.

“One more beer darling?”

“Perhaps a whiskey Scotland?” he replied.

She laughed, “Whiskey brack label? I know you keep for Clissmat.”

She went and got the bottle and a small glass, knowing he would drink it without water or ice.

IT’S THE SAME EVERY BLOODY YEAR, YOU SAY YOU’LL ONLY STAY AN HOUR AT THE WORK’S PARTY THEN YOU’RE HOME AT THIS TIME PISSED AND YOU WANT TO KEEP BOOZING AND I’VE GOT TO DO BLOODY EVERYTHING.

She sat down next to him, snuggling in, and he offered her a drink after she’d poured a generous measure for him. She went and got a glass and barely wet the bottom. It was too cold for her outside and he sent her down stairs after she had sipped it.

THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS GO AND OPEN ONE OF THOSE BOTTLES OF WINE FOR ME, I’VE BEEN FLAT OUT ALL DAY AND I HAVEN’T EVEN STUFFED THE TURKEY YET, AND DON’T GET TWO GLASSES YOU’VE HAD ALL YOUR GETTING TONIGHT.

Tomorrow the women of the Thai family would come and start getting things ready for the evenings barbeque. Salads and larp to make, the pork to be cut into spare ribs and the beer he had bought put on ice. The same ice that would go into the six bottles of Thai whiskey when they drank it with soda water. They would all come to his house, the family and half the village, and those who could afford it would bring something, even if it was only the moonshine rice whiskey.

I’M SICK OF YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER, WHAT’S WRONG WITH THEM COMING TO OUR HOUSE TO EAT THIS YEAR, THEY GO TO YOUR BLOODY SISTERS FOR DINNER EVERY YEAR AND WHEN THEY TURN UP HERE YOU CAN TELL ALL THEY WANT TO DO IS GO HOME. WE NEVER EVEN GOT A CARD FROM HER THIS YEAR, I’M GOING TO HAVE A GO AT THEM ALL SOON I CAN TELL YOU AND THAT’S YOUR JOB YOU WEAK BASTARD.

He knew she would give him his present when he went down stairs, it was the same every year, a polo shirt that she had saved for out of the housekeeping, always a good quality one, not a cheap copy from the market, and he would give her the quarter ounce gold chain making her clap her hands with joy and throw her arms around him.

I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU BOUGHT ME THOSE FUCKING EARRINGS, I’VE GOT NOTHING THAT GOES WITH THEM, YOU NEVER BLOODY THINK JUST GO IN AND BUY THE FIRST THING YOU SEE.

She came up stairs with the bowl of freshly fried cashew nuts she had cooked and salted. He wasn’t hungry but took one to please her. The tom yam goom with the fresh water shrimp she had cooked along with the rice had filled him to completion and the fried chicken wings on the side had been crisp and spicy.

GET YOURSELF A SANDWICH IF YOUR HUNGRY, IF YOU’D GOT HOME ON TIME WE COULD HAVE FINISHED UP HERE AND GONE OUT FOR TEA, BUT NO, BLOODY SELF SELF SELF AS USUAL. I’M SICK OF IT, SOMETIMES I WISH YOU’D JUST BUGGER OFF.

Well and truly buggered off, he sipped the Scotch and smiled at the bright stars in contentment.

                                                     The End

© Julian. All rights reserved by the author.