Tales From Heller

Silent Night

Frank had earned himself a break after a fall semester of senior year that had proved remarkably taxing, both mentally and morally. His college applications were all submitted, from what he could gather not everyone at Heller hated him, and there was no indication that anything was going to go wrong in the following year. It wasn't easy to forget that just a few blocks away, there stood Heller looming proudly above the rest of the neighborhood, but Frank tried his best.

He and his parents had prepared a delightful dinner for Christmas Eve, roast lamb with mint sauce and English trifle for dessert, and Frank took the opportunity to stuff himself and politely avoid any dinner conversation that insinuated there was something about school he wasn't telling them. They played cards for a bit afterward, and in their food comas they all went to bed early.

Frank was awoken by a knocking at his door, and before he could rouse himself to check who it was, a pallid apparition of Tom phased through the door, not stopping long enough for Frank to process the implausible physics. This apparition stood tall above Frank, who by this point had opened his eyes fully and sat upright, and announced in a sonorous voice, "I am the ghost of Christmas Past!"

"OK, I get it, Christmas Carol. That trifle really hit me hard. What is it, O wise one, you have to show me tonight?"

"Come with me, Franklin," Tom said.

"Just Frank is fine, if I'm being honest."

"Come, Frank!" Tom shouted, a gale of icy wind blasting Frank.

"Fine, fine! I'll come," Frank said, and he took Tom's offered hand, and before Frank knew it he and Tom were walking down the stairs of the Lake Tahoe house to look over what appeared to be Tom and his parents. The fireplace was lit—unthinkable in summer—and Bing Crosby played softly. Tom appeared young, not older than ten or eleven, and the three of them were opening their presents.

"This was the last Christmas we had as a family, before my mother left us. Look at how happy we were! I knew nothing but happiness back then: I hadn't yet learned the meaning of betrayal, of suffering. What I would give to be a child again, who had no particular ambition in life but collecting all the Pokemon."

"It is a nice image, Tom, but why are you showing me this?"

"When was the last time, Frank, you experienced pure happiness? When was the last time you lived freely without a care in the world?"

"A few hours ago, only, I was having dinner with my family. They mean everything to me. If that wasn't pure happiness, I don't know what is."

"And tell me, Frank, what was on the back of your mind through dinner? What did you do immediately after you left, before you went to bed?"

"Why, I had emails and club presentations to write, and Juliet had texted me earlier asking for my advice on something, and then at some point my dad was asking me what this thing about a 'caste system' he had heard about from one of his friends was, which got me really angry because I dislike that wording, and—"

"Enough!" Tom shouted again, chilling Frank to the bone. "Your mind isn't empty like mine was then. Your body may be at home, but your mind is at Heller. Let's walk down to them—they can't see or hear us. Take a look, Frank: what do you see?"

"A young Tom, wearing a Santa hat."

"Wrong: you see someone who's never had to ponder a tough question, but doesn't care. He doesn't seek out challenge, and he's content with what he has. You see someone who's never restless, and who would never lie to his parents or engage in mental gymnastics to convince them of lies. Why do you do this, Frank? Why do you choose to be someone so tormented by your thoughts?"