Christmas at Eden House
by: Delilah Robbins

Chapter 1 of 5 Parody

A Christmas Prayer

It all started with a prayer.

On the first Christmas Eve spent without her pop, Maggie Evans prepared to retire for the night. She felt snug and warm in her seaside cottage on that blustery New England night. Thank goodness Nicholas had paid the heating bill. On her pitiful salary there was no way she could keep up with the utilities.

Before slipping in between the gingham sheets however, she dutifully knelt at the foot of her bed to say her prayers.

"Dear Lord, Bless Pop and the people who come into the coffee shop and…"

After about an hour of bidding the Lord to watch over and keep every person she’d ever known or ever would know in her lifetime, she paused to request something special.

"Oh, and God, I saved my intended Nicholas for last because I finally know what he is! Lord, I’m worried about his soul. Couldn’t you please find a way to lead him to the path of righteousness? I want all of us, Nicholas and myself and Pop to meet up together in Heaven some day."

Alarmed, she paused to reflect on her request. What if I’m asking for something selfish? Thinking better of it she decided to let him be the judge.

Looking Heavenward, she continued. "Well please think about it, God sir."

With great effort, she lifted her four-karat diamond weighted left hand into bed with the rest of her body. Soon she enjoyed the restful sleep of the pious.

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Back at the House by the Sea…

In Nicholas’ magic mirror, Adam tried unsuccessfully to view something other than his stupid mug. Frustrated, he turned to Eve who was highly amused at his futile attempts.

"Nicholas showed me how he can see other things through the mirror but, when I touch it nothing happens."

Eve answered him in her head. That’s because he’s a warlock you moron! How agonizing! She mused. Being the mate of such an idiot! They’re lying to me. I know it! We weren’t made in the same way!

"Well Eve, what do you think?"

I think you’re a repulsive deluded toad, she mentally answered again. Everyone’s always indulging you! The only reason I exist is because of you. It should be the other way around. "Just what did you want to see Adam?" She asked sardonically, tossing her great red mane, uncaring.

Adam guffawed, smiling with a glazed intoxicated look on his face. "Carolyn, she’s getting ready for bed and I want to watch…!"

Eve was instantly furious and possessive. He might have been an imbecile but he was her imbecile! She smacked him off the side of the head with a fire iron.

"…How dare you?"

Adam, recovering from seeing stars, apologized to his crazed mate. " I’m sorry Eve, I really wanted to see the beautiful lights and Santa Claus! I’ve read that he fills all the stockings and leaves gifts for all the good girls and boys!"

Eve shook her head. It gave her great pleasure to burst his bubble. "First of all, you’re not a child. Children are far more intelligent. Second of all, we dwell in the house of a renowned Devil worshipper so, get rid of any warm fuzzy thoughts of sitting on Santa’s lap, hearing choirs of angels sing or getting little trinkets in your smelly socks! Contrary to what your favorite Novel says Nicky the Grinch’s heart isn’t going to expand three times in size. No Adam, there'll be no Christmas in Eden this year!

The following is mine with help from Charles Dickens. The Characters are from Dark Shadows The story has sprinklings of Delilah.

The Visit

Nicholas Blair descended the staircase of his house by the sea. Startled by a strange texture on the railing, he stopped to investigate. He shook his head in disbelief. "What the…? It’s garland!" Immediately tearing it to shreds, he pitched it outside. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out whom was responsible for it.

Donning his magnificent robe, he strutted into the drawing room and paced impatiently. His servant Harry was late as usual.

Finally, the knock he was waiting for sounded. He quickly strode to the front door and ushered in the non-committal Harry. "You’re late!" He spouted through gritted teeth.

Harry walked in like a man made of limp noodles, his attitude surly and uncaring. "Hey, Carolyn wanted me to do something, I couldn’t just drop it."

Nicholas grabbed him by the collar, his eyes, fire blazed. "You work for me first! He thundered.

Harry gave him a frightened yet listless stare. His jaw dropped as he licked his lips. "What’dya call me over here for Nicholas?"

"Mr. Blair!" He hissed.

"Yeah, yeah sorry! Mr. Blair."

Nicholas crossed over to his desk and opened one it’s smallest drawers. As he pulled out the long, slim vile he thought about the full impact of what he was about to do. He knew that Maggie still felt a strong sentimental attachment to Joe Haskell. This would assuredly end it. He’d easily killed others in the same way but for some reason he felt a twinge of guilt. Culpability didn’t stop him from fulfilling his purpose. It just gave the act a gravity that the other cases hadn’t shared, the mere fact that he was about to kill someone that Maggie cared about.

As he held up the vile, light illuminated its sapphire liquid glow. Gravely, he presented the lethal tonic to Harry.

Harry’s nose and upper lip flew up simultaneously in confusion. "What’s that perfume?"

"No!" Nicholas’ jaw tensed and he lowered his lids slightly. "It’s poison." His voice was almost a solemn whisper. "You’re to go to the old house and put in Haskell’s medicine."

Harry’s characteristically phlegmatic expression all but disappeared. Shaking his head madly, he backed away. "No, no. I can’t do anything like that! A fellow could go to jail maybe even the chair for that! No…nothing doing."

"Harry!"

"By the way, it’s Christmas Eve, don’t you have any respect?"

Nicholas was livid. He grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck. "Don’t you start giving me a lecture about scruples you dissolute little monkey! Get over to that old house now and do as you’re told! Trust me, the chair will feel like a cakewalk compared to how I’ll punish you if you don’t. Now move it!"

Harry grabbed the vile and stumbled skating through the front door.

Nicholas watched Harry disappear into the darkness. Impudence all around me! He thought to himself. Don’t they know whom they’re dealing with?

He crossed to the mirror. Someone’s been touching my looking glass. He thought, indignantly. The controls had been fiddled with and in addition the bunny ears were tangled. As he tried to readjust the imager, the lights in the room dimmed and the widow flew open. Gusty winds caused the draperies to dance frantically as the lights went out completely.

There was a moment of silence and then the sound of clanging chains.

Nicholas picked his way through the darkness. A fuse, a fuse must have blown. He thought to himself. But, what’s with the chains?" Probably some damned ghost, thinking to stop in and reminisce. I’ll shoo it away. I’ve too much on my mind right now.

The chain clanking was becoming louder, labored, rattling, maddening! Nicholas called into the darkness. "Whoever you are, I am not receiving company this evening. Kindly call at another time!"

The clanking became relentless despite Nicholas’ protestations. And then, there was light. Before Nicholas stood the shackled, sun glass bespectacled ghost of Sam Evans.

"Nicholas Blair!" Sam moaned.

Nicholas smiled a half smile. "I know who you are. You’re Sam Evans! I don’t believe we’ve ever had the pleasure." Nicholas extended a hand in greeting.

Sam refused his handshake "Don’t bother Mr. Blair! I’ve no interest in becoming acquainted with you!" Nicholas drew his hand back clearly dejected. He cleared his throat. "Then why are you here?"

"In answer to a prayer." He stated simply. "My daughter’s. You see I happen to know that you have plans to Marry Maggie."

"Yes that’s quite true." Nicholas affirmed complacently.

"Well I don’t think you’re good enough for my daughter! And that’s an understatement!" At that, Sam shook his chains their loudest.

"Careful Mr. Evans, I could damned your soul for all eternity." Nicholas threatened. His eyes were as black as onyx.

"Believe it or not Mr. Blair, your jurisdiction is defunct when it comes to my soul. The Divine has already sent me to purgatory. We both know that good is stronger than evil so your threats fall on deaf ears in this case."

Nicholas was growing weary of the banter. "Mr. Evans if you’ll excuse me… I have other matters to attend to…

"…Sit down Mr. Blair." Sam commanded.

Not used to taking orders, Nicholas retorted, raising a sardonic brow. "Mr. Evans!"

Sam pulled out a cross from his pocket as his chains rattled in answer. He flashed it in front of Nicholas’ eyes. "You will sit sir."

Cowering, Nicholas obeyed. "Put that away!" He hissed.

"I will, when I’m reasonably assured that you’ll sit and hear me out."

"You have my word." He said silently, defeated.

"For whatever good that’s worth!" Sam laughed, his chains rattled even more.

"You have my word!" He repeated through gritted teeth.

Sam put the cross away. "Good. Now there’s one more thing I will say before I state my purpose with you. If I had to choose a son in law I would choose Joe, not you! But, I’m not doing the picking my daughter is and she wants you. Though just why I’ll never…"

"…I get your point Mr. Evans!"

"As you are now, evil incarnate, you will not do for my Maggie. Therefore you must change!"

Nicholas shook his head in disbelief. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t." He laughed, shaking a dismissive hand toward Sam. He looked his perspective father in law square in the eye. "And I don’t want to." He jeered smiling his broadest.

Sam continued as if he’d never heard Nicholas at all. "Tonight you will be visited by three spirits."

At that, Nicholas threw his head back laughing convulsively. "Is that supposed to scare me? You forget Mr. Evans I am of the Netherworld. I can summon and entertain a legion of spirits with the snap of my finger." He shook his head as her observed Sam, his half smile and brow furrowed quizzically.

This time it was Sam who smiled complacently as he peered from hidden eyes. "Oh Nicholas, you’ve never been visited by the likes of these ghosts. I assure you, you’ll be completely powerless in their company. Heed them well Nicholas, for the sake of Maggie and your soul. Heed them, heed them, heed them!" With that, Sam dissolved, melting into the atmosphere, his clanging chains barely audible and then completely imperceptible.

The following is mine with help from Charles Dickens. The Characters are from Dark Shadows

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Nicholas chuckled to himself and shouted into the air. "Sorry Sam, there isn’t a goblin you can throw at me that I haven’t already seen. Flicking off the light, he crossed to the hallway near the staircase. What he saw glowing in it’s portal nearly scared him out of three lifetimes. There, in all it’s majestic glory stood a fragrant Christmas tree, complete with lights and a smiling angel atop.

Resisting the urge to burst a blood vessel, he sprinted to the tree snatched it up into his arms and pitched it out the front door. It landed right on top of the garland. He looked heavenward. "Very funny, whoever you are!"

Nicholas wasn’t a drinking man, only socially but if ever an occasion presented itself that was it. He poured himself a nice stiff brandy. Letting out a deep sigh, he allowed his thoughts to turn to Harry and the job he’d given him to do. "Just hope he doesn’t botch it up!" He thought audibly as he tossed down the brandy and then he answered himself. "He wouldn’t dare!"

Nicholas looked heavenward to address Sam, and then looked straight ahead. He wasn’t sure where to look. Sam was in purgatory, wherever in Hell that was! "Well Mr. Evans, it seems Joe won’t even be in the running for sons in law after I’m through!"

As he spoke the fateful words, the lights dimmed and deadly silence followed. A moment later, he heard the dulcet tones of a woman’s voice. A very familiar voice with a foreign dialect, French if he wasn’t mistaken. It was so faint, so ethereal he could hardly make it out. "Nicholas!" It inquired. Then, becoming more audible he was able to make out the words. "Nicholas! Où êtes-vous Nicholas?" It resounded throughout the seaside house, bouncing off the walls.

"Nicholas! Où êtes-vous Nicholas?"

She sounded like Maggie. A Maggie that spoke French but that couldn’t be! She spoke English and that was it! Her voice continued to reverberate throughout the halls. "Je recherche Nicholas Blair!"

The lights grew dimmer still. "C’est moi!" He echoed back bravely, challengingly.

In place of the Christmas tree, a tiny ball of gold white light glowed near the window. He watched transfixed, as the ball seemed to grow slowly yet steadily. Moments later the form turned into Maggie, dressed in white from head to foot.

Nicholas nearly lunged at the woman he loved. "Maggie!"

The woman flinched and steadily held him at bay. "Je suis Josette, l'ordinateur de secours de Noël après!"

Nicholas stood astonished, enchanted. "Josette, the ghost of Christmas past." He silently let the words escape his lips and then congratulated Sam. Touche’ Mr. Evans! If this ghost is any indication of what’s to come, I am indeed powerless. He regarded his beloved nemesis. "Vous ressemblez mon Maggie!"

The ghost rolled her eyes. "Je parle anglais."

Pardon! He thought to himself. Had it been that long since he’d been to Martinique? "Josette, I presume you are here to show me Shadows of…" His voice broke off.

She shook her head dubiously. "…You can’t even say zee word can you? I am here to show you zee shadows of Christmas past." "All past?"

"Non. You’re past."

Nicholas was suddenly anxious. "We won’t be visiting any churches or synagoags will we?"

"It is a distinct possibility and if zhat’s uncomfortable for you, well zhen tough! It is right zhat you should suffer!" Before he could retaliate she grabbed his arm and up they flew past Collinsport, past Maggie, past Eden by the sea.

*******************************************************************

Nicholas and Josette stood observing the crowded Macey’s, watching past events unfold, just as they’d occurred back in 1938. There, amongst all the children, elves and shoppers sat a weary counterfeit Santa Claus, though he looked most authentic with his real snow-white beard and mustache. Normally the poor man had an eight-hour shift but his relief called in sick. So there he sat, trying to look cheerful, jolly and ingratiating, difficult though it was. This particular Santa had a long reputation with Macey’s and when the Christmas rush was over, he was promised permanent employment throughout the year.

Why are we here? Nicholas thought. I was a perfectly adorable child! He located himself amongst all the screaming children. Ah there I am, screaming the loudest, he thought ruefully. He suddenly felt very vulnerable. There was something so terribly unnerving about being scrutinized so coldly by one, who looked like his lover, his obsession.

Josette watched, as young lollipop sucking, eight-year-old Nicholas occupied St Nick’s lap. "And what can I get for you for this Christmas, young man?"

Young Nicholas looked the tired man square in the eyes. "I want a pony!"

As was customary, Santa always looked to the parents of the tot for approval or disapproval. Clearly in that particular case, approval from young Nick’s parents was not forth coming.

"Son, Santa’s fresh out of ponies this year. Is there any thing else you’d like?"

A glazed look came over the child’s eyes. "How can you be out of ponies?"

Santa chuckled uncomfortably. "Sorry pal it’s true. There just aren’t enough to go around this year."

"But, that doesn’t even make sense." Young Nick stubbornly maintained, licking his lolly feverishly.

Santa scratched his head. Usually that pacified most kids. "Come on kid give me a break! There are other kids who want to sit on my lap." Santa’s fatigue was starting to get the better of him.

"If you were really Santa, you could get me one!" He started to pout and slowly his eyes welled up with artificial tears. He looked out at the crowd of waiting children and shouted to them. "He’s a fake!"

The children went wild crying and kicking up a general rumpus.

"Hey shut up kid!" Santa whispered urgently.

Young Nick turned to look at Santa grinning devilishly, as the mob became crazed. Then he deposited the huge barley pop smack dab in the middle of Santa’s beard. The more Nicholas twisted it, the more stuck in the beard the pop became.

"Oh mon Dieu!" Josette exclaimed.

Nicholas looked at Josette abashed. He shrugged smiling slyly. "I was just a kid."

"Zhat man lost his job and his beard zhat day. All because of you!"

Nicholas was speechless. With anyone else, he’d have a clever retort justifying whatever he did. But this was Maggie…Josette. They couldn’t have picked a better ghost.

Later in the past, Josette watched Nicholas’ cavalier treatment of women. He would pursue a woman relentlessly until she finally succumbed to his charms. If a husband or boyfriend stood is his way they were eliminated. However, once he’d had his way with her she was quickly dumped and forgotten. His prowess limitless and his sexual hunger voracious, Nicholas left a smoldering trail of broken hearts.

On a Christmas Eve in Martinique, the ghost and warlock watched a young Nicholas break with the only other woman he’d come close to loving. Her name was Monique Duvall. As he watched, his heart sank a bit.

Concerned that his supernatural powers were being sapped, he broke with her mercilessly, showing absolutely no compassion as she cried.

"Monique, I don’t love you and I never will." He stated simply.

"Vous êtes une bête!" She shouted through her tears.

He shrugged. "A beast? Perhaps you’re right!" He smiled his broadest and left her sobbing.

From the drawn spent look he displayed upon his exit though, the ghost could see Monique had meant something to him.

Turning to face Nicholas, Josette observed his solemnity. "Why Nicholas? You obviously had strong feelings for zhis woman."

"She was better off without me!" He snapped abruptly. It was starting to get to him, all of it. The most maddening part being the ghost. He couldn’t get past the fact that she looked so much like Maggie. He wanted to crush her to him, draw comfort from her. There she stood in judgement, hating him. It was unbearable. He reached for her but the closer he came the further she backed off until she became incandescent melting into golden white light.

"Josette!" He called like a lost soul. "Come back to me!"

When she’d finally disappeared, he found himself back in the drawing room of the house by the sea.

The following is mine with help from Charles Dickens. The Characters are from Dark Shadows

The Ghost of Christmas Present

Nicholas wiped the cold sweat from his pained brow. Seeing Josette had shaken him more than anything had in a long time. From the hallway of his seaside home he thought about Sam’s cryptic promise. "Oh Nicholas, you’ve never been visited by the likes of these ghosts. I assure you, you’ll be completely powerless in their company."

What was in store for him next? He crossed to the drawing room doors and upon opening them was immediately blinded by a great light. His senses were further assaulted by sound of Christmas music ringing mercilessly in his ears. This time the room was bombarded with bobbles, holly, ivy and every trinket associated with Christmas. That hadn’t been the worst of it either. There, next to the fireplace stood the tallest, most bedecked, opulent Christmas Tree, he’d ever seen. Terrified, he didn’t know what to demolish first. Powerful though he was, he needed the assistance of at least a lumberjack or two for the tree removal. Or, he thought. I could get an axe and chop it down, lights and all.

The noise and the colors coursed through him like a knife. It was maddening to the confirmed warlock! Covering his ears furiously, his body swayed in agony. "No more! No more!" He shouted.

Abruptly it all disapeared, the only evidence of its former visage being a holly decked kissing ball perched high on the threshold.

Snatching it quickly he thought to pitch it into the roaring fireplace, until a familiar voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Nicholas!"

It was the voice of a woman he’d loved with all his heart once. Choking back the enormous lump that had formed in his throat, He cursed Sam Evans as pain surged through his heart.

"Nicholas, look at me dear."

He couldn’t bear to. It had been so long since he’d beheld his mother’s graceful beauty or heard her bell like voice. He was grateful for only one thing. She’d passed away peacefully in her sleep. Ashamed, he suddenly realized that he’d been her complete antithesis and her personal disappointment for sure. Sam hadn’t sent a ghost, Nicholas thought ruefully. He’d sent an angel.

"Then it is I who must come to you."

She crossed to him lifting his face to gaze into hers. Beautiful though she was, her face lacked the peace that it once had in life. They embraced for what seemed an eternity as she rocked him as she had when he was a little boy. She whispered in his ear. "Where did I go wrong with you Nicholas?"

Just as he thought his heart might burst, he finally pulled away from her.

"Mother, I’ve already been visited by the ghost of Christmas Past."

"Don’t be surly Nicholas!" She reproached.

"Sorry mother but, you know you’ve never been the reason for my life choices."

"Still, I must share in the repercussions of your behavior."

He looked at her questioningly. "Why?"

"If I’ve failed you in any way…

"…You haven’t, I keep telling…"

"…There will be no peace for me until you mend your ways!"

He shook his head angrily. "It has nothing to do with you!"

His mother smiled. "It seems like yesterday again. Me and my futile attempts at trying to show you the correct path and you raising your voice to me." She chuckled shaking her head.

Remorseful, he took her hand in his and held it against his cheek. "Mother, I am sorry, for what its worth, I truly am."

She shook her head ruefully. "No Nicholas, not yet but, you will be." She promised. Her grasp suddenly tightened on his and they were immediately catapulted into the night’s winter sky.

In a moment, they stood in Maggie’s bedroom in her seaside cottage. Nicholas watched his beloved as she slumbered peacefully, her rose petal lips slightly parted.

He turned to address his mother. "You know I enjoy this view mother but, I don’t really understand why we’re here. Aren’t you going to show me what a miserable sinner I am?"

"On the contrary Nicholas, I’m here to show you the results of your love inspired behavior. If it weren’t for you, this lovely child would be freezing to death this night. There is much for you to atone for that’s true but your capacity for love is awe-inspiring! It is that which you must draw upon." She beckoned to him. "Come."

In the cottage living room, his mother pulled out one of the bills from Maggie’s box of important papers.

Nicholas looked around the room nervously. "I don’t think we should be doing this mother." Displaying one of the pages to her son, she quizzed him. "What is this Nicholas?"

"It’s a foreclosure notice." He stated quietly.

"Because you bought one of Sam’s paintings for such a sizeable amount, Maggie was able to keep her home."

Yes, but mother that was not my first motivation."

She closed her eyes. "I know what it was but that reason no longer exists! You have fallen in love! There is hope for you yet my son."

Nicholas looked at his mother for a long time. How could he dash her hopes? At the same time he didn’t want to give her false ones. "Mother, you mustn’t get your hopes up. I’m part of a bad lot…"

"…You’ve been given a second chance Nicholas, all past soul bargains are null and void. She kissed his forehead. "Make the right choice."

"Mother I…

"Make the right choice she repeated and until her voice faded into nothingness.

The following is mine with help from Charles Dickens. The Characters are from Dark Shadows

Christmas at Eden House Part 5 of 5 The Finale

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come

This time, Nicholas found himself sleeping on the steps of the hallway stairs. Three spirits, he thought wearily. The last two had left him so emotionally drained, he didn't think he could stand another. "Sam start the last visit without me, I'm going to bed." He called into the air.

Suddenly, gripped by a cold biting wind, Nicholas shivered. He could never abide by weather that wasn't anything but balmy. Opening the drawing room doors, he was immediately struck by the ice coating everything in the room. For the first time, he wished the roaring fire and monumental Christmas tree had met him instead. As he adjusted the thermostat, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Quickly spinning around, he found himself face to face with the Reverend Trask!

Nicholas shook the hand off and laughed in one steady blast. "Trask!"

"Reverend Trask!" He corrected.

Nicholas questioned the air. "Is this your idea of a joke Sam?"

"Your mirth at my expense has not escaped me, you shameful sinner!"

Nicholas addressed the air again, laughing hysterically. "Is this the extraordinary ghost you promised me? What's he going to do? Tie me to a tree and then exorcise the demons? I'd overpower him in a second!" Nicholas smiled his broadest. "What a weak finale Sam."

Trask stepped in front of Nicholas smiling sadistically. "Nicholas Blair, I am here to show you the shadows of Christmas yet to come. "Bear but a touch of my hand and these shadows will be revealed to you."

Nicholas paused. He was suddenly terribly amused. "I just have one question Trask."

"Reverend Trask!" He thundered.

Nicholas smiled ingratiatingly. "All right, Reverend Trask, just how many ghosts will be visiting you after we part company?"

Trask's eyes burned. "Are you going to come with me willingly or must I use…this!" Trask pulled out a wooden cross and thrust it in front of Nicholas.

He cowered, standing at bay. For some reason though, the relic's full impact hadn't hit him as it typically had. Amazed, he wondered why.

Trask quickly grabbed Nicholas' arm and off they flew, into the shadows, the ones that men fear the most, those unknown. They landed in the death row section of San Quentin Penitentiary. Nicholas looked at Trask questioningly. "What are we doing here?"

"There is a very good reason. Come!"

They crossed to a dingy little cell toward the back of the prison. As they slowly approached, Nicholas immediately recognized Harry, perched on his cot like a bird in a cage. The expression on his face was one of pure panic and destitution, not the typical apathetic mug that he so often showed. In that moment, all the lights in the prison blinked and as they did, Harry's countenance crumbled. Then he buried his face in his pillow and sobbed like a baby.

Nicholas watched in astonishment. "Why is he here Trask?"

"You have a short memory Mr. Blair. He's on death row for the murder of Joe Haskell."

Nicholas' eyes lowered as he finally grasped the inevitable development.

A booming voice interrupted Harry's crying jag. "You have a visitor. It's your mother."

Harry quickly wiped the tears away and crossed to the sink to splash cold water on his face.

A brawny guard ushered in a very weathered Mrs. Johnson. Her careworn hands clutched a wicker picnic basket. The prison door squealed, and then slammed with finality. As if in answer, Harry turned to face the wall.

"Harry!" She called out to him feebly.

He couldn't look at her.

She approached him slowly. "Harry, look at me dear." When she saw he wouldn't budge, she scuffled over to him. "Then I'll come see you." Taking his face in her hands she was overcome, bursting into tears.

"Ma don't!"

She took him in her arms and held him tightly, rocking him as she had when he was a small boy. She whispered in his ear. "Where did I go wrong with you Harry?"

He pulled away from her.

"Ma, it's too late to ask questions like that."

"Don't get snippy with me Harry…Her voice broke off. "…Not now!" She blew her nose.

"Ma, you know none of this is your fault."

"Why did you do it Harry? Why?" She agonized. He looked at her questioningly genuinely at a loss for an answer. "I don't know."

"But you must! Then maybe I could understand after it's…"Her voice broke off, she didn't want to continue with that sentence. "If I've failed you in any way…

"…Ya haven't, I keep telling ya…"

."…It's because I wasn't a good enough mother!" Mrs. Johnson clapped a guilty hand over her mouth.

He shook his head defeated. "No! You have it all wrong! It has nothing to do with you!"

His mother smiled sadly. "I tried to show you the difference between right and wrong."

"You did! You did ma!" Remorseful, he took his mother's hand and squeezed it. "Ma, I'm so sorry! If anyone screwed up, it's me."

She shook her head sadly, and opened the picnic basket. "I brought all your favorites. That was the least I could do. I said to myself, my son's last meal will be made with these two hands."

Harry interjected quickly. "Oh Ma, they take care of all that. I already told them what I wanted."

"Don't worry son, I waved their foolish lobster dinner away! Look what I've brought! New England boiled dinner and Indian pudding for desert …"

Harry's look of misery worsened.

Never had Nicholas felt so much empathy for another being. Such is life when Harry's my kindred spirit! They were both bad lots who brought misery and grief to their mothers.

Trask addressed Nicholas. "Do you see any similarities here Mr. Blair?

Nicholas regarded him darkly. "The last thing I need is an editorial from you!"

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Next, Trask brought Nicholas to the basement of the old house where the guests enjoyed a wild Christmas celebration.

Barnabas paraded around the examination table while raising Nicholas' hat high in the air, perched on his walking stick. He displayed it the way Macduff had when he carried around Macbeth's head.

Julia gleefully tore up all of Dr. Lang's notes and sprinkled them about like confetti.

Willie disconnected wires while Jeff jangled Eve's dry bones against beakers with his stirring rendition of, "dry bones."

"Just put all that phosphorous in a lawn and leaf bag Jeff." Barnabas instructed. "I'm building a compost heap for the garden this spring.

Nicholas shook his head in disbelief. "What in Hell are they doing to my experiment?"

Trask smiled at him sadistically again. "You shall see!"

Nicholas addressed the jubilant demolition crew. "Stop this! You're ruining my plans!"

"They can't see or hear you Mr. Blair." Trask replied complacently.

Willie was suddenly anxious. "Barnabas, are you sure he's dead?"

Barnabas sighed impatiently. "Yes Willie, I saw him spontaneously combust myself. It was in the forest as he conversed with his master."

Nicholas was suddenly apprehensive. "Trask, who are they talking about?"

"It shall be revealed! Come, let us see yet another Christmas!"

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Maggie admired the four-karat diamond engagement ring as its glint reflected the lights of the Christmas tree. Pensive and sad, she indulged in a sob as a tear trickled down her porcelain cheek. Forcing her from her silent vigil was the sound of keys jingling and tumblers turning at the front door. Alarmed, she snapped the box shut, returning it to its secret hiding place under a floorboard. Then resigned, she touched the plain gold ring on her left hand.

"Maggie, I'm home." Her husband called out.

Nothing could have prepared Nicholas for what he saw next.

"Okay Willie." She said without enthusiasm. "Did you get what I asked for?"

His mouth dropped open and he slapped his forehead. "Oh Jeeze Maggie, I completely forgot!"

Maggie fumed. "Willie Loomis you are the most absent minded, pea brained…"

Nicholas grabbed Trask by his puritanical collar. "Just what are you trying to make me swallow now? Over my dead body, would Maggie ever marry Loomis!"

Trask looked at Nicholas as a long sadistic smile curled his full lips. "Precisely Mr. Blair, over your dead body!"

At that, all the color drained from Nicholas' face. "Explain yourself Trask!" He spouted through gritted teeth.

Shaking Nicholas off, he continued with his litany. "Come now Mr. Blair don't pretend to misunderstand. It was you who Barnabas saw licked in flames, in the forest."

Nicholas backed away, shaking his head. "No, it can't be! Diabolos wouldn’t destroy me like that."

Trask followed him mercilessly raising his hands to the powers on high. "You are a most deluded soul! You have succumbed to the Devil with his empty promises."

Nicholas teetered obviously crazed. "No, I don't believe any of this!" He stumbled over to Maggie who still berated Willie.

"I ask for something simple like a loaf of bread…"

"Maggie! Maggie, you could never…I don't believe you'd marry him…"

And then suddenly without warning, the familiar voice of Diabolos blasted from the depths.

"I think I've heard just about enough of this!"

Nicholas and Trask were thrust from the domestic scene, finding themselves instead in the forest at Collinwood. As the earth beneath their feet rumbled, the ground spouted fissures of fire and in the heavens, lightning danced, as tumultuous thunder boomed. At the height of the drama, riding on a fiery cinderblock, the enigmatic, red bedecked Nicholas' twin, Diabolos surfaced in all his burning decadence.

Trask pulled out his wooded cross. "Get thee behind me Satan!"

Diabolos crossed to Trask. "…Shut up." He stated quietly, as he punched him in the stomach. He gestured to Nicholas to look at the bent over Trask. "Nicky, Nicky! What are you hanging around this stiff for?"

"I didn't have much of a choice. He's the ghost of CCChhrrr…"

"Can't say it, can you? "Nicky, I'm the ghost of Christmas yet to come, provided you're smart enough to hop back on board." He clapped Nicholas on the shoulder. "You're my number one guy, my friend."

Nicholas looked at Trask who lay gasping on the ground. He swallowed hard and looked the master straight in the eye. "If turning me into sterno is number one guy treatment, what do you do to lucky number two?"

Diabolos started to sweat a little. "Aw Nicky, you don't believe that bible thumper over there do you?"

Nicholas shrugged.

Diabolos shook his head knowingly. "You're acting stupid over that woman again. As the ghost of Christmas yet to come, I'll show you a vision Nicky. Want to see it? It's your precious Maggie after she's squeezed out a few pups. Yeah Nicky, she's beautiful, now! Give it twenty years or so and you'll see." Diabolos poked Nicholas with a red gloved hand for emphasis. "Huh, huh?"

Nicholas sighed. "There is beauty that goes beyond the surface, Maggie will always have that."

The Devil looked at Nicholas long and hard. His narrowed eyes and clenched jaw sent chills up and down Nicholas' spine. Suddenly Diabolos clasped a hand to his heart. "That was beautiful Nicky, and I almost believed you for a minute there. But, you forget. I know you. How are you going to make it without your powers?"

"I'll manage."

The Devil scratched the back of his head. "What are you going to do, get a job? What, like driving a bus? So that you can come home at night, drink beer and watch your belly swell? Have you thought about the unruly kids you’ll have? If they’re half you they’re bound to be. How are you going to keep them in line? Oh she'll want children, trust me."

"I'm sure she will."

Diabolos laughed heartily but when Nicholas didn't reciprocate, he was livid. "Now you listen to me Nicholas! I can give you power, prestige and all the women you want but, you pull out and that's it! You're on your own! So you decide, right here and now. What’s it gonna be?"

All the visitations swirled in his head almost simultaneously. Collectively they expressed their sentiments. "You have fallen in love! There is hope for you yet my son."

As you are now, evil incarnate, you will not do for my Maggie. Therefore you must change!"

"Yes Willie, I saw him spontaneously combust myself. It was in the forest as he conversed with his master."

"You've been given a second chance Nicholas. All past soul bargains are null and void. "Make the right choice."

Giving final credence to the voices and their wisdom he made his decision. "I want out." He stated simply.

His former master glared at his mortal likeness. His lips tightened until they turned a ghostly white. "Wrong choice Nicky." The Devil promised. Diabolos lifted his arms forcefully in the air, causing the ground to part, creating a crevasse of flame under Nicholas.

Desperately he tried to remove himself from the blistering inferno but, in vain. He quickly ignited, his flesh melting as he shouted his agonized cry, "Maggie, Maggie!"

*************************************************************************

He woke to find his hand still on the thermostat. Unwittingly Nicholas had turned it up to a sweltering ninety degrees. He touched his hand, his chest, and the flesh that had been searing. He was alive!

He looked at the mantel clock, only two minutes had elapsed since he'd given Harry the fateful orders to kill Joe. Amazing! Miraculously there was still time to stop him. He immediately ran in the direction of Harry's car and artfully talked Harry into giving the lethal vile back to him.

There was a letter in his mailbox from Roger at Collinwood inviting him to a Christmas gala. He rang up Maggie who happily consented to be his guest.

*****************************************************************************

As they walked into the foyer, Nicholas and Maggie were easily the two most beautiful people in the room. And when the much-unappreciated Mrs. Johnson took their coats, a reminiscent Nicholas Blair took a moment to kiss her hand.

Mrs. Johnson's eyes flew open. "My goodness Mr. Blair what a strange thing to do!"

"Merry Cchhrristmas Mrs. Johnson!" He stammered. He assured himself, I have to be patient, it will come in time.

"Oh, by the way this arrived for you this afternoon. Obviously someone who thinks you still live here."

Maggie looked over his shoulder as he opened it.

Cher Nicholas Je suis si heureux que vous soyez devenus un caractère reformé.
Merci pour les ailes! Amour Josette Ah, et Dieu nous bénissent chacun!
"Nicholas, read it!" Maggie urged.

"I'm afraid I can't." He lied. There was a phrase at the very end he didn't feel liberated enough to say yet. "It's all in French."

"You speak French!"

"That's right I do but...He spied David coming down the stairs. "I know a young boy, Ah there he is! He could probably use the practice. David do you speak French?"

"Oui!" David was only too happy to oblige. He lifted the card to his eyes and cleared his throat.

Dear Nicholas I am so happy that you've become a reformed character. Thanks for the wings. Love Josette Oh, and God Bless us everyone!

The End…Delilah