Almost Thirteen Years Later

It was a clear winter day when the Christmas parade wound its way down Alvin's Main Street. Which, of course, meant it was cold. Dewey said it smelled like snow, but I told him he was crazy. First off, it ain't never snowed in Alvin far as I know, and second, it wasn't that cold. I guessed it to be probably in the midforties somewhere. Still, I was glad I had my heavy jacket on. I wasn't used to this sort of weather.

We were all standing together as close as we could, which was extremely strange for my sister, Carry. Normally, Carry liked to be as far away from everyone else as she could get, but I guess huddling to keep warm took precedence over trying to look cool. Other than me, Dewey, and Carry, there was my uncle Henry, who had come down to spend the holidays with us.

Christmas was barely two weeks away, and boy you could sure feel the excitement in the air. I loved Christmas. It was the best day of the year as far as I was rightly concerned. My mother always played Elvis songs at Christmastime and he had this one that was called something like "If Every Day Was Christmas." I found myself thinking that same question all the time. Of course, then it probably wouldn't be so special. Which sounded just like something my mother would say.

More and more, I found myself saying stuff that sounded like it should be coming out of her mouth instead of mine.

Carry was extra lucky. She not only got Christmas to celebrate, but four days later, she got her birthday, too. If she had been born just four days earlier, she'd have the same birthday as baby Jesus. I'm glad she didn't. That would be just too weird.

"Here they come!" Uncle Henry said. "Can you see all right, Abe?" he asked me.

"I certainly can!" I said.

Down the street, the float my mother was on turned the corner and came into view. There was a tall riser up front where Hubert James Robertson, the mayor of Alvin, stood waving to people on both sides of the street. Beside him, on much lower risers, stood my mother on his left and Officer Chris Jackson on his right. Both my mother and Chris worked for the Alvin Police Department. Chris was just a regular officer, but my mother was a detective, which meant she didn't have to drive around in a special car or wear a special uniform. She could go out looking any way she wanted. Although, sometimes, she worked as a normal officer, too. They were the only two police officers in Alvin other than Police Chief Ethan Montgomery, who ran things at the station.

"Where's Chief Montgomery?" I asked, blinking into the sun as I looked up at Uncle Henry. A cold breeze hit my pant legs, sending a chill up my body.

Uncle Henry shielded his eyes with his hand, almost looking like he was saluting someone. "I don't know. You'd reckon he'd be on there, too."

There were all sorts of floats. The one my mother was on didn't seem to "be" anything in particular, but the one coming up behind it was a pirate ship advertising the Alvin First National Bank. It was big and it blocked out most of the stores on the other side of the street. It had a huge Union Jack flag that flapped and snapped in the winter wind.

"Isn't that a weird float for a bank?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Dewey asked back.

"I mean, didn't pirates steal money? It's like they're sayin' they're gonna steal your money."

"You think too much, Abe," Uncle Henry said.

"Maybe they're sayin' that they'll steal money for you and put it into your account," Dewey offered.

"Maybe it's just a friggin' pirate ship," Carry said.

She could be very unsociable at times.

Someone in a giant kangaroo suit came bounding down the side of the road and stopped right in front of us, waving.

I waved back, but the kangaroo didn't move on. It just kept waving. I felt very awkward and uncomfortable, waving from the sidewalk with the kangaroo two feet from me, waving from the street. Finally, the kangaroo reached up and took off its giant head. It was Police Chief Montgomery. "You guys all havin' fun?"

"Um, yeah. It's dandy," Dewey said.

"It's okay," I said.

"My feet are killin' me," Carry whined. "How much longer is this thing anyway?"

"They're all having a terrific time," Uncle Henry said, swatting the back of Carry's head.

Chief Montgomery leaned in, and whispered to Carry, "At least you don't have to hop around in a stupid kangaroo suit. My legs feel like Jell-O. I can't wait until this is over. I reckon there's only three or four more floats until the big guy comes round and finishes it."

"The big guy?" Dewey asked.

"You know," Chief Montgomery said. "Mr. C? Ho ho ho? St. Nick?"

"Santa Claus!" A huge smile beamed from Dewey's face.

Oh my God, he didn't really still believe in Santa, did he? Me and Dewey were practically exactly the same age. Our birthdays were within days of each other, which meant he would be thirteen in March. Someone had to put an end to this.

"Dewey," I said, "you do know there is no real Santa, right?"

I got instant glares from three people. Even Carry joined into the Glare Group.

"What?" I asked. "He's almost thirteen for cryin' out loud. Do you want him to go into the workforce believin' in the tooth fairy?"

"Wait," Dewey said, sounding dejected. "There's no Santa and no tooth fairy?"

"Dewey, you have no baby teeth left. Why do you even care 'bout the tooth fairy?"

"She was nice to me. She gave me money."

"He's got a point, ass face," Carry said. Uncle Henry swatted the back of her head again.

"Language," he said. To me, he didn't sound too much like he meant it.

"Are you serious about Santa?" Dewey asked.

I took a deep breath and let it go, looking at all the heads shaking behind Dewey's back. I smiled. It was a terribly faked smile. "No, Dewey, I'm just pullin' your leg. Of course there's a Santa Claus. Who else would be eatin' those carrots and drinkin' that milk you put out?"

His face immediately transformed. The wonder was back. It sort of peeved me off because he was living in a world much more spectacular than the one I was.

"And just so you know," he said, "I am aware there is no Easter bunny."

I squinted at him. "Why do you reckon there's no Easter bunny, yet you believe in Santa?"

"Duh. Why the heck would rabbits be givin' out eggs? It makes absolutely no sense."

"He's got a point," Uncle Henry said.

Everyone fell silent and I realized the Existence of Santa Claus and Other Miscellaneous Childhood Lies discussion had come to an end. The silence was finally broken by Uncle Henry asking Carry: "So, what does my little sugar plum want for her birthday this year?"

Carry smiled. "It's super cool."

"What is it?"

"I want you and my mom" — she hesitated and examined me and Dewey — "and I guess you two little rug rats too if you want, to come with me to a psychic while I get my fortune told."

"What a neat idea," Uncle Henry said. "But if you want me there, you're gonna have to do it earlier than your birthday. I'm only stayin' until the mornin' after Christmas and then I have to go."

"Okay, I'll talk to Mom. Maybe we can book an appointment this week. I reckon it'll be so cool."

"Just remember, sugar plum, a lot of those so-called psychics are frauds. They only tell you what you wanna hear. Or they're gypsies. Gypsies give me the...