Page 53 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“It’s right here,” Taran says as she grabs a binder from the buffet and brings it over to Aunt Cindy. When on earth have they talked about this without me? Because I haven’t really left their sides.
Well, I guess there was that nap I took the other day.
And that other nap before dinner because shivering all day takes it out of me.
Oh…and I can’t forget about the two hours I spent sitting in front of the fire where I…happened to fall asleep as well.
So, yeah, I guess they’ve had some time to plan without me.
“Ah, yes,” Aunt Cindy says as she refers to her binder and then back to the board. “Next we have the recycling—well,upcycling—portion of the competition.”
“And what is that, exactly?” I ask her. “Are we supposed to see who can gather the most products and recycle them?”
“No.” Aunt Cindy chuckles. “This is a competition put on by Sherry Conrad.”
“Who’s she?” I ask.
“Sherry is the owner of Antlers Antiques.”
“Oh, okay. So what does she have to do with the competition?”
“Sherry’s our local environmentalist. She’s the one who holds all the proprietors to a high standard of sustainability. When our neighboring town, Vail, came out with their Mountain IDEAL—their sustainability standard—Sherry brought the idea to Bob Krampus to adopt, and he welcomed it with open arms, as long as she was the one who headed it up. So, she helped all the proprietors turn over a green leaf, if you will. We’ve done away with single-use plastic as much as we can—especially at our restaurants—we’ve installed solar panels, and we’ve opened up a section of our town parking to allow electric vehicle charging, which in return has made us a larger destination because travelers will charge and shop here in Kringle. She’s done amazing things for our town, so Bob Krampus thought it would only be right to have a competition in honor of the work she’s done.”
“That’s actually kind of amazing. I had no idea, but it explains why plant-based cutlery is offered for all takeout,” I say.
“Exactly, so when they were coming up with a competition, theywanted to make it into an upcycling challenge. Contestants are supposed to create a live-action scene from one of their favorite Christmas movies and do it by using things that can be recycled, or by upcycling old items to give them a different purpose. The person who depicts the best scene and uses the materials in the best way wins.”
“Okay. A bit more of a challenge. We’re going to have to be creative, which I’m very good at,” I say. “And Taran can help execute, with her anal retentiveness to make it perfect.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Taran says as she scoops a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth.
“What scene did you do last year?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Aunt Cindy says. “Because I won this competition last year.”
“Really?”
Aunt Cindy nods, and a large grin spreads across her lips. “I recreated the scene fromMeet Me in St. Louis, where Judy Garland is singing ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.’ I styled my hair to look like hers, found some clothes from Antlers Antiques that represented the era, shoes and all, and then took a cardboard box, made it look like a window, and sat down, looking through the window like Judy in the movie and lip-synching the song. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”
I press my hand to my heart. “Aunt Cindy, that’s…that’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She smiles. “Now, I think we can achieve the same visceral reaction with you, but I think I should be involved. I say we reenact the same scene as last year, recycle the window, the outfit—showing Sherry that I didn’t just dispose of the scene from the year before. This way, we’re demonstrating the highest of all recycling by reusing what we’ve already created—but this time, you sing to me through the window while I slouch in my wheelchair like I’m knocking on death’s door.”
I hold my arm out and point to the goose bumps there. “Chills. Literal chills.”
“I can make your cheeks look gaunt too,” Taran says. “We can work the makeup in our favor.”
Aunt Cindy smirks. “And this is why I love you two.”
Proud of ourselves, we all dig into the oatmeal, knowing full well this competition is ours to take. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like our family is coming together again after a hiatus. A hiatus from me.
A stupid hiatus that I already regret, because this…this cohesiveness, this is what Christmas is all about.
That and winning!
Cole
“You know, unless you have binoculars, I don’t think you’re going to see anything,” Max says as he comes up behind me.
