'TIS THE SEASON
By: Kenda

A.J.
Simon parked the Camaro in his driveway next to Rick's Powerwagon on this, the
second Saturday in December. The blond
man was returning home after having spent Friday night, and most of today, with
Liz. A.J. walked through the open
garage, taking note of eight empty, musty smelling cardboard boxes Rick had
left strewn about its interior.
A.J.
stopped in the act of walking into his den from the garage.
"What are
you doing?"
"Be
careful where you step," Rick cautioned.
A.J.'s
older brother had pushed the coffee table aside. He was sitting in the
middle of the den floor amidst dozens of strings of tangled Christmas lights. Five dozen boxes of brand new strings of
lights were piled on the den sofa as well.
A
dumbfounded A.J. slipped his shoes off, then carefully tiptoed his way through
the den to avoid stepping on any of the glass bulbs. When he reached the relative safety of a kitchen barstool he took
a seat.
"I repeat,
what are you doing?"
Rick
fished around behind himself for a moment before managing to locate a red piece
of paper. Without turning to face his
brother, he handed it up to him.
"This was
left in your mailbox yesterday."
A.J.
read the festive flyer that was decorated with candy canes and snowmen.
"So?"
Rick
remained engrossed in untangling a string of lights.
"So? Is that all you've got to say, is so?"
"Yes."
"A.J.,
your neighborhood is having a Christmas decorating contest!"
"And
I repeat - so?"
"So,
I thought it would be neat if we participated.
Besides, they're gonna award a hundred bucks to the first place
winner."
"Ah,
the true reason for your holiday merriment."
"Not
necessarily, though a hundred bucks would come in handy this time of
year."
"Rick,
I don't think I'm interested in entering any decorating contest."
For
the first time Rick looked up from the task at hand.
"Why
not?"
"Because
I've always found homes that are overdone with decorations to be tacky."
"You're
such a scrooge."
"I
am not!"
"Oh,
come on, A.J. You won't even have to do
any of the work. I'll do it all."
"Rick,
I'd prefer to decorate my home the way I usually do."
"What?” Rick questioned with distain. “With one measly
old wreath on the door and two strings of lights along the garage?"
"Yes. And what's wrong with that anyway? It's tasteful."
"A.J.,
it's boring. It's redundant. You do that every year. This year it's gotta be grand."
"And
why is that?"
"Because
even if you don't let me enter the contest, all the other neighbors are going
to. Do you know how sad this house will
look with hardly any lights or decorations on it, when everyone else on the
block is going all out?"
"How
do you know everyone is going all out?"
Rick
returned his attention to a tangled string of lights.
"Because I
already asked a couple of your neighbors if they're entering. Mrs. Kelvin said everyone on the block
is."
"Are
you sure about that?"
"Yep. I even saw Mr. Gorman hauling three bags of
lights and a plastic Santa into his house a little while ago."
"Mr.
Gorman?" A.J. questioned with
surprised. He wasn't quite able to
picture his conservative, next-door neighbor, overloading the exterior of his
house with lights and a Santa Claus.
"Yeah. Word is that Mr. Gorman wants to win this
thing. Mrs. Kelvin said he's out for
blood."
"Now
there's a nice thought at Christmas time."
"Aw,
you know what I mean. So anyway, how
about it? Can I enter?"
A.J.
glanced over at the sofa laden with boxes of lights.
"It looks
like you already have."
"No.
Not officially anyway."
"Where
did you get all these lights from?"
"Two
of the strings are the ones you use on the garage, and then I got three more
box fulls of 'em from Mom this morning.
She had 'em in the attic. Edie
and Margaret were at her house when I stopped by, and they donated a bunch of
their old lights to my cause, too. I'm
testing 'em all now to see which ones work and which ones don't. Then the new ones over there on the couch I
got from Surplus Sammy."
"Surplus
Sammy? Since when does Surplus Sammy
sell Christmas lights?"
"He
always has. Evidently you don't shop at
Sammy's during the holiday season."
"I
try to avoid it."
"Well,
you shouldn't. He has a fine assortment
of gifts and decorations at reasonable prices."
"And
whose houses has he stolen them off of?"
"A.J.,
knock it off! Sammy runs a legitimate
business and you know it."
A.J.'s
agreement was heavily laden with sarcasm.
"Right, Rick. But
regardless of whether Sammy's business is on the up- and-up or not, how much
did all those new lights cost you?"
"Nothing."
"He
just gave them to you?"
"In
return for one small favor."
"And
that favor is?"
"I
gotta spell out Surplus Sammy with a string of them on the front of the
house."
"On
the front of my house?"
"Well,
yeah. Whose house did you think I was talkin'
about?"
"Rick! I'm not going to have the words, Surplus
Sammy, blinking on and off in red and green lights on the outside of my
house!"
Rick
turned to look at his brother.
"Why not?"
"Why
not? Because it will look asinine,
that's why not."
"Come
on, A.J. Be a sport. If I don't spell out Surplus Sammy with the
lights then I gotta buy 'em. There's
over five hundred dollars worth a' lights here. I can't afford that."
"You
should have thought of that before you took them from him."
"Oh,
A.J., come on. Please. I'll spell it out small, I promise."
"How
small?" A.J. asked with distrust.
"Well,
it's gotta be big enough so folks can read it on account of advertising
purposes and all, but I won't make it as big as Sammy wanted it. How's that?"
A.J.
reluctantly conceded defeat on the issue.
"I want to approve it when you're done, Rick."
"Okay. Whatever you say. Thanks, A.J."
A.J.
craned his head.
"How many
lights do you have there anyway? You're
not planning to put all those on my house, are you?"
"Well,
except for the ones I was gonna put on The Hole In The Water, I
am. There's twenty-five hundred
here."
"Twenty-five
hundred lights!"
"Yeah."
"Rick,
with twenty-five hundred lights you'll be able to see this place glowing clear
to Boston. It will look like a house of
ill-repute!"
"But
I gotta use that many lights. I gotta have more than Mr. Gorman."
"How
many does he have?"
"According
to Mrs. Kelvin, he's gonna use a thousand.
We gotta outshine him, A.J."
"Why?"
"So
we can win the contest. That's what
this is all about!"
"I
thought Christmas was about giving, and spreading good will to all men,
and--"
"I
am giving, and spreading good will, and all that other stuff. People will come from miles around to see
your house. My decorations will bring
'em cheer, and joy, and ho, ho, ho, and fa la la, and all that other good
junk."
"Rick,
I don't know about--"
"Come
on, A.J. Please. I've already gone to the trouble of gettin'
all these lights. And I've already
spent over three hours untangling them and seeing if they work. You can't say no now."
"Yes,
I can," A.J. informed his sibling.
The look of disappointment on Rick's face was
a pitiful sight to see.
A.J.
rolled his eyes at his brother's pout.
"Oh, all right. You can
enter."
Rick's
face lit up with delight.
"Thanks!"
"When
is the judging going to take place?"
"At
nine o'clock on Christmas Eve. They've
got a teacher from the art department at the university, the mayor, and a
professional artist doin' the judging.
It will be perfect 'cause Christmas Eve is when we always have our open
house. It will look great for the
guests this year."
A.J.
rose to retrieve a beer from the refrigerator.
"I'll reserve the right to decide that until I see it in its
completed state."
"Hey,
bring me one of those too," Rick requested.
A.J.
carefully made his way over to Rick and handed him a beer. The blond man then turned to head up the
stairs.
Rick
looked up from his work. "Where
are you goin'?"
"Upstairs
to read for a while. I might even take
a nap. Liz and I were out late last
night."
"Oh."
"Why?"
"Well,
I thought you might wanna help me untangle some of these lights."
"Rick,
you initially sold me on this idea by telling me that I wouldn't have to do any
of the work," A.J. reminded.
"Yeah...I
know. But untangling lights isn't
really work. I mean, it's not like I asked
you to help me put the lights up on the house or anything. And I'm not really askin' for a lot of your
time or anything. It will probably only
take another hour or so if you help, but...I guess if you don't want to. .
." Rick finished in a forlorn tone.
A.J.
sighed heavily. "Oh, all
right. I'll help you for a little
while." The blond man picked his
way through strings of lights and carefully sat himself down on the floor next
to his brother.
"Thanks,
A.J. You won't regret it. When I win that hundred bucks I'll even buy
you--"
"Fifty
bucks."
"Fifty
bucks? What are you talkin' about? The first place winner will be awarded one
hundred dollars. I already told you
that."
"Rick,
it's my house you're putting all this garbage on. If you win first place, I think that I'm entitled to half the
prize money."
"A
quarter of the prize money," Rick bartered.
"No
way! Half of it!"
"A
quarter of it," Rick
insisted.
"No."
"Look,
A.J., I'm the one who got all the lights from Mom, and Margaret, and Edie. I'm also the one who made the deal with
Sammy. I'm the one that's gonna be
puttin' all this stuff on the outside of the house. So basically, I'm the one doin' all the work here."
A.J.
held up the lights he was untangling. "Would you care to rephrase that statement?"
"Okay...so
I'm doin' most of the work here.
Therefore, I think I'm entitled to more than half the prize money."
"You're
just lucky I'm too tired to argue this point with you any further," A.J.
stated. "Okay, if you win, you get
seventy-five dollars and I get twenty-five.
Agreed?"
Rick
nodded. "Agreed."
No
other words were exchanged as the brothers spent the next two hours
concentrating on the task at hand.

The
next morning A.J. was up and stirring about his home long before there was any
sign of life on The Hole In The Water.
Rick had worked late into the night getting his lights in order, even
going so far as to tape numbered pieces of paper to each individual string so
he would get them on the house in the exact pattern he wanted. The basic design he was hoping to achieve
with his decorations had been drawn on a piece of paper while he sat at A.J.'s
kitchen table well after the blond man had retired for the evening.
A.J.
drank a cup of coffee and briefly skimmed the Sunday paper before going
upstairs to take a quick shower. The
blond detective was to pick up Liz at eight.
The couple was going out for breakfast, then spending the day together
at a mall Christmas shopping. A.J. left
a note on the kitchen counter for his brother to this effect, right before
heading out to the car.
It
was four o'clock in the afternoon before A.J. returned to his home, after
having dropped Liz off at hers. The
back seat of the Camaro was laden with bags of Christmas presents for Cecilia
and Rick.
The
blond man put his turn signal on as he approached his driveway, only to
discover he couldn't fit the car in its usual spot - or anywhere else for that
matter. The angry man beeped the horn
several times, but to no avail. The
brother he was attempting to hail didn't appear.
"Oh,
for heaven's sake," A.J. muttered under his breath. He wheeled the car back out onto the street
and parked at the curb.
Just
as A.J. was climbing out of the vehicle, Rick appeared from around the corner
of the garage.
"Oh,
A.J., glad you're home. I could really
use your--"
"Rick! What is going on here?"
Rick
looked around in bewilderment.
"Whatta ya’ mean?"
A.J.
came to a halt in his driveway. "I
mean, I can't get the car in the driveway!"
"Oh,
yeah. That. Well, it's only for a couple of weeks."
"A
couple of weeks!"
"Well...yeah. Just until after Christmas."
"Rick! I'm not going to park my car out on the
street until after Christmas!"
"Aw,
A.J., come on. It's just until the
contest is over. You said I could
decorate."
"You
told me you were hanging lights. You
never said anything about turning my driveway into a replica of the North
Pole!"
The blond weaved
his way in and out of Rick's display, taking note of six plastic elves, a
plastic Mrs. Santa, three plastic penguins, a five foot tall plastic snowman,
and a candy cane striped sign that declared A.J.'s driveway to be a Santa Claus
Crossing Zone.
Lost
among a sea of elves, A.J. asked with wonderment, "Where in the world did
you get all this stuff?"
"At
Kmart."
"When?"
"This
morning."
"But
why?"
Rick
pointed toward Mr. Gorman's.
"Look."
A.J.
looked over at his neighbor's front yard.
"So?"
"So,
Mr. Gorman's got a Frosty the Snowman, and Mrs. Frosty, over there with
fake snow and everything. I've gotta
do better than that."
"Rick,
how did you pay for all these things?"
"Uh...mmmmmmmm," Rick mumbled.
A.J.
held a hand to his ear and cocked his head.
"What was that?"
"I...uh...I
charged 'em on the business credit card."
"You
what! Rick, I don't want this
garbage on the business account. The
business account is only for items we can use for the business. Hence the term, business account."
"Well...we'll
use this stuff for the business at some point in time, I'm sure."
"Right,"
A.J. scoffed. "Like when Mrs.
Claus hires us to do surveillance on Santa because she suspects he's got some
hanky panky going on with one of his elves."
"A.J.! Bite your tongue. You shouldn't talk about Santa Claus that way! Why, that's almost blasphemous!"
"No,
what's blasphemous is the way you've made a mockery out of Christmas in my driveway."
"Come
on, A.J. Get into the spirit of things
here. Just give it a chance. When it's all said and done, you're gonna
love the layout I've got planned for this place. You might even like it so much that you'll want to keep it up all
year 'round."
A.J.
shook his head and began walking toward his car.
"Don't
count on it."
"Hey,
where are you going?"
"To
get the Christmas presents out of my car.
If I've got to park my vehicle in the street for the next two weeks, I'm
certainly not going to be stupid enough to leave packages in the back
seat. I want to get all those things in
the house."
"Then
are you coming back outside?"
"I
wasn't planning on it. Why?"
"Well...I
kinda need your help."
A.J.
stopped dead in his tracks. "With
what?"
Cautiously,
and at several arms length away, Rick replied, "I've got Santa Claus, a sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer in
the garage. I'm gonna need your help
putting them on the roof."
A.J.
turned around. Through clenched teeth
he pointed out, "Rick, I thought you said this was your project,
and that I wasn't going to have to help."
"Yeah,
I know I did. But this won't take very
long. As a matter of fact, we'll get it
done so quickly that it really won't be like you did any of the work at
all."
"That
will be an interesting concept to watch develop," was all the blond said
before continuing to the car and retrieving his packages.

Mounting
Santa and his crew on the roof took considerably more work on the part of the
two Simon brothers than Rick had predicated, as well as considerably more
swearing than should ever take place at Christmas time. On two different occasions tempers got so
frayed that a fistfight almost broke out between the two detectives. As it was, A.J. got so angry with his
brother that, in a fit of rage, he pitched Santa off the roof and into the
canal. The blond ended up having to
climb down the ladder and wade into the dirty water to retrieve the jolly old
elf, before Rick made good on his threat to pitch A.J. into the canal next.
Over
the course of the next week Rick spent several hours each evening stringing
lights up along the eaves of the two story home and around the windows. On more than one occasion a vehemently
protesting A.J. was drafted to give his brother a helping hand.
Just
when A.J. had thought that his home and yard could hold nary one more bit of
Christmas cheer, he discovered himself to be wrong. The sun was just beginning to rise over the canal three days before
Christmas Eve. Still in his bathrobe
and slippers, A.J. retrieved the morning paper, poured himself a cup of coffee,
then headed out to the deck. The
detective was engrossed in the headlines as he opened the French doors and
stepped outside. He tripped over a four
foot high plastic object, only to send it tumbling into a multitude of other
four foot high plastic objects, causing everything to tumble to the deck with a
clatter in a domino effect. By the time
A.J. was struggling to his feet his newspaper was saturated with hot
coffee.
"Rick!
“Rick!
“Richard!”
Rick
Simon poked his head over the railing of The Hole In The Water.
"Man, A.J.,
what are you yellin' for? Do you know
what time it is? You'll wake the whole
neighborhood."
"Rick,
what the hell is this stuff on my deck?"
Clad
only in his khaki boxer shorts and an old pair of tennis shoes, Rick jumped the
boat's railing and walked to the deck.
"Geez, you
knocked everybody down."
Rick
began righting the plastic figures.
"And
just who is everybody?"
A.J. ground out between clenched teeth.
"Don't
ya' know?"
"The
closest I can come with a guess at this moment is to say Snow White and the
seven dwarfs are paying us a visit, except that there's considerably more than
seven...whatever these are, here."
"It's
twelve drummers drumming," Rick explained.
"Huh?"
"And
eleven pipers piping."
"What?"
"And
ten lords a leaping."
A.J.
shook his head. "Don't tell
me."
"And
nine ladies dancing. And eight maids a
milking. And seven swans a
swimming. And six geese a laying. And five--"
"Stop! Enough already. I know the song. What in
the hell are you going to do with all these things?"
As
Rick continued to right his performers he warned, "You know, A.J., you
should really watch your mouth. You've
been doing entirely too much swearing lately, considering how close it is to
Christmas and all."
"You
bring out the best in me, Rick,” A.J.
snarled. “Now, I repeat, what are you going to do with all these things?"
"I
don't know yet. I'll find a place for
'em."
"Where? You've already got an entire North Pole
neighborhood relocated to my driveway.
Santa and his reindeer are on my roof.
And the three Wisemen have decided that the star of Bethlehem has led
them to my kitchen steps. I practically
have to climb through a window to get in and out of my house any more. Now just where do you think this little
group is going to take up residence?"
"If
nothing else I'll put 'em in the side yard in front of The Hole In The Water. Some of 'em can even go on the deck of the
boat. Maybe the seven swans a swimming
can go in the canal. I've got to give
it some thought."
"Well,
just hurry your thought process up and get these stupid things off my
deck," A.J. ordered.
Rick
looked down his nose at his brother.
"A.J., you
don't rush something like this. Every
decoration must be carefully woven in with the rest. The placement of every character must be a well thought-out,
painstakingly tedious process. It
can't just look like a buncha' Christmas decorations thrown here and there at
random. It all has to flow together
to form a colorful, yet tasteful theme."
"The
tasteful part of the this whole arrangement left us the day you decided to
enter this stupid contest."
Rick
brushed past his brother, not deeming a response necessary to one of such a low
intellect level as to not understand the basics of a neighborhood Christmas
decorating
contest.
While
Rick poured himself a cup of coffee A.J. asked, "Are there anymore
surprises waiting for me? Any other
guests that may be coming to festoon my lawn that I'm not aware of, whom I
might be in danger of tripping over on my way to the bathroom in the middle of
the night?"
"No,
none that I can think of."
"Good." A.J. made his way into the den. He picked up the T.V.'s remote control off
the coffee table. "Since my
newspaper is ruined I'm going to watch a few minutes of A.M. San Diego before I
get ready for work."
Just
as A.J. was about to drop into his favorite easy chair Rick shouted from the
kitchen, "No! No!" He plunked his coffee mug down and ran into
the den.
A.J.'s
knees were already bent, and his backside almost in the chair, when Rick
reached underneath him. "Geez,
A.J. Watch it! You almost sat on the baby Jesus!"
"Where
did he come from?"
Rick
laid the plastic baby on the dining room table. "From the manger.
Where'd you think he came from?
Come on, you know the story.
Mary and Joseph. She was a
virgin. They had Jesus in a stable in
Bethlehem 'cause there was no room in the inn.
Then--"
"Yes,
Rick, I know the story. I didn't mean
where did the real baby Jesus come from. I meant where did that baby Jesus come from?"
"Oh,
well I got a good deal on him when I bought the twelve drummers drumming and
all their pals. I got all of 'em at a
wholesale Christmas warehouse Sammy told me about."
A.J.
shook his head as he clicked off the television. "I'd like to think that I can still go somewhere in my house
without encountering little plastic people.
I'm beginning to feel like I'm the main character in a bad Stephen King
novel. I'm going to take a shower and
shave. If you want to make this entire
mess up to me...and I highly recommend that you do, you could cook breakfast
for both of us. I'll take my eggs
over-easy this morning with three sausage links and a piece of toast with
butter and strawberry jam."
"Yeah,
sure. Okay." Rick agreed. "But...uh...which shower were you plannin' on using?"
A.J.
turned around with narrowed eyes of suspicion.
"The same one I always use.
The shower in the master bathroom.
Why?"
"Cause...uh...I
stored Mary and Joseph in there last night."
"Let
me get this straight. Basically what
you're telling me, is that Mary and Joseph are showering together in my
bathroom."
A
frown crossed Rick's features. "I
never really thought of it that way...but yeah, I guess you could say
that."
“Okay.” A.J. took a deep breath and counted to ten.
"Then I'll use the shower in the guest bathroom."
"Well...uh...now
there's a slight problem with that idea, too.
The shepherds are showering together in there."
"Rick!"
"But
you can use the shower on The Hole In The Water. I--"
"Rick!”
The
older detective flew past his irate sibling and took the stairs two at a
time.
"Or I could
just get Mary and Joseph outta your way!
The shower will be free in just a minute!"
A.J.
looked heavenward.
"Why do I
get the feeling this is going to be an extraordinarily long holiday
season?"

Christmas
Eve day dawned sunny and warm in San Diego that year, as it did most
years. Rick was relieved that his
prayers for no rain had been answered, while A.J. was simply relieved that his
prayers for the end of this stupid decorating contest were close at hand.
Both
brothers were busy and managed to stay out of each other's way. A.J. was in his glory, having all day to put
his culinary skills to the test as he prepared a variety of hors d'oeuvres and
main dishes for the evening's buffet table.
Cecilia appeared shortly before noon to take charge of the two large
hams that she popped in the oven, and to help her youngest son do some last
minute cleaning and decorating before the first guests arrived at six o’clock.
Rick
was absorbed outside most of the day stringing the last few sets of lights and
placing his last few decorations. He didn't appear in the kitchen until four
p.m. He whistled along to the Christmas
carols A.J. had playing on the stereo as he prepared a big bowl of potato chip
dip, and another bowl of salsa for the corn chips, all of which were his
contributions to the evening's meal.
Right
before A.J. headed upstairs to shower and shave he asked, "Do you have all
your decorations ready?"
Rick
looked up from his work, smiling.
"Yep. It's gonna be great, A.J. We're gonna win for sure. Boy, you shoulda' seen the look on Mr.
Gorman's face a little while ago when he came over here to see what I've
done. You could just tell that he
already knows he's gonna lose."
"He
might lose, but at least his place doesn't look like it was decorated by a band
of renegade elves," A.J. muttered to himself.
"What
was that?"
"I
said, I think that there's more wine glasses on the shelves. Would you get them for me please, and set
them on the table with the other glasses?"
"Sure
thing."
As Rick placed
the glasses where his brother requested, he took in the sight of the live
Christmas tree in one corner of the living room, its many lights twinkling
gaily in synchronization. The den
furniture had been carried out to the garage earlier that day by the two
brothers, and now three borrowed tables were set up in there covered with red
tablecloths and adorned with holiday centerpieces, green plastic plates and
utensils, holiday napkins, and what food could already be set out.
"Everything
looks great, A.J.," Rick praised.
"Between what you and Mom have done in here, and what I've done
outside, this will be one Christmas Eve bash our friends will be talking about
for a long time to come."
"We
always aim to please," A.J. agreed.
"Speaking
of Mom,” Rick asked, “where is she?"
"She's
in the guest bathroom cleaning up and changing her clothes. She'll be down in a minute. I'm going to get cleaned up, as well. If I know Aunt Edie and Uncle Bud, they'll
be here at least a half hour early."
"And
in separate cars, and yellin' at each other at the top of their lungs,"
Rick added. "Do you figure they'll
be threatening to divorce one another this year?"
"They
have at every other Christmas Eve open house we've ever had. And at every one Mom and Dad ever had,
too. Why should this year be any
different?"
"Yeah,
you're right,” Rick smiled. “Damn, but
I love the holidays."
A.J.
laughed. "Yeah, so do I. Even when they involve Bud and Edie, and a
brother that makes the outside of my house look like the Christmas version of
the Bate's Motel."
"Hey!" Rick exclaimed in protest, throwing a
dishtowel at his brother in the process.
The
laughing A.J. threw the towel back at his sibling, then headed up the stairs to
shower.
