Page 27 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
A smile crosses Aunt Cindy’s lips when I look up at her.
“You’re going to jump in feet first, aren’t you?”
Chin held high, I fold my hands in my lap. “Well, if we’re going to do this, we really should do it right.”
CHAPTER SIX
Cole
So the people of Kringle all gathered around.
The twinkling lights shimmered; snow fell to the ground.
Bob Krampus in the center with a smile and a list.
A list of all contestants, held tightly in his fist.
What a wonderful time, the start of a very joyful season!
But Cole and Max were there for one specific reason…
“Thank you for joining us,”Bob Krampus bellows from his Santa house at the very top of Ornament Park. It’s a picturesque storybook house, as if it were plucked straight from the minds of Disney animators, with its fake thatched roof, Bavarian-style moldings, stained-glass windows in green and red, and the quintessential limestone that wraps the bottom perimeter of the cottage.
The people around us cheer, their breaths turning into mist as mittens are pressed together, winter hats cover ears, and the town band, which is off to the right, gets ready to start the Christmas season with the Kringletown favorite, “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town.”
“I should have worn a jacket,” Max mutters next to me. “Fuck, it’s chillier than I expected it to be. I told you we should have stood closer to one of the firepits.”
“And risk the chance of not being able to hear all of the rules because the kids around us are high off s’mores? No, we’re here for a reason, and I will not let anyone distract us from the win.”
“Okay, settle down, Michael Jordan.”
“Huh?”
Max rolls his eyes. “Never mind.”
“I’m happy to announce that all applications for this year’s Christmas Kringle have been reviewed and we are ready to announce the competitors.” Bob Krampus pauses, letting the crowd cheer again.
Not me. I stand there stiffly, mentally ready to take all the notes, not letting one thing distract me from—
A flash of red.
I look in that direction, wondering if it’s Storee Taylor, only to see that it’s someone tossing a red scarf around their neck.
Christ.
As I was saying, I’m not letting one thing distract me from what I have planned, and that’s winning the Christmas Kringle.
“And this year, we have quite the competitors,” Bob Krampus says as he pats his belly, shaking it like it’s a bowl of fucking jelly. “I’m going to call out their names, and I’d like them to join me up on the stage.”
“What?” I hiss. “That wasn’t part of the plan—did you know about that?” I ask Max.
He shudders next to me. “Dude, I can’t feel my nipples right now. I have no idea what’s going on.”
“When do you ever feel your nipples?” I ask.
He pauses for a second. “Good point. How about I can’t feel my toes?”
“Better. Should have led with that.”
