The 2008 New Year's Baby ! Chapters 62, 63, 64 White Trash in the Snow

 The zombie  movie and the actor mentioned in Chapter 63  below are real. If you like zombie movies, or if you have someone on your gift list who does, the independent film Bled White is available from Amazon.com  and I am unashamedly giving a small group of hardworking talent this little plug. The 2009 film has won several awards and recently was distributed internationally. Yes, Bled White came out in 2009, and I included it in the December 2007 episode below. I can do that because this is fiction.

 The rest of this fiction was written between 2009 and 2010 to entertain real people, intelligent people, who in 2008 heard another fictional tale and said "I do not believe that."  The chapters below may be fiction, but it's believable fiction.  Thanks for being here.

WHITE TRASH IN THE SNOW
by Allison

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

New Year’s eve, at midnight, with his wife having gone to her room hours earlier, Tad was finding it hard to fall asleep. He pulled the recliner to a sitting position and raised the volume on the television. Watching the commotion being broadcast from Times Square, he reflected on the old year and  wondered what this year would bring the Saplins. In the past twelve months, their son became a man and their daughter, well, it was what it was. He’d bragged about his son to his buddies at work, and kept his daughter’s big news a secret even from his parents. He asked himself his annual New Year’s question – would he and Rachael be divorced by the next New Years Eve.

Good riddance to last year, he said to himself as he popped open another beer. He was looking forward to having life become manageable again. Yes, there was a baby coming, and the adoption to work out, but then that ordeal would be over. No election for Rachael this year, thank God. And in this first year in office he and Rachael had succeeded in working out a system for sharing her duties that ought to serve them well enough in the second year. Governing in a state where the  legislative session only lasted three months, his wife actually had a part time job. The season of regular work was over almost before it began. Public events came and went, they might do a few less local events this year and try to get invitations outside to some really big things. Hey, Rachael was making some waves, getting the radar screen of the national media and even talkin’ to the White House sometimes. This was fun- being important was a hoot. People giving them stuff all the time, the all expenses paid travel into the lower 48, and the fawning – all that was good.  Maybe the people pushing for Rachael to get the VP nod would succeed. Maybe it was possible for her to be on the ticket.  It was a long shot for sure, but sometimes he believed it could happen.

He made a resolution to himself right then to try to find at least one thing each day that he could do to help make his wife a contender. Make a call, drop a name, do an interview, send an email – there were many ways he could make a difference while remaining behind the scenes.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Wrangler wasn’t coming back for another two days. Cristol was ready for him to return, and they’d argued about it. Wrangler wasn’t often this stubborn, but he said it would be the first time he’d had a long visit with his Dad during Christmas vacation and with a baby on the way, it was now or never. Since the day Kevin Strauss left Jerrie, Wrangler and Porsche had been claimed by their mother for all holidays. The kids spent their entire holiday breaks at home with their mom while their dad got a couple hours worked in on a Sunday afternoon.

Wrangler was more sensitive now about his Dad’s situation; and he had a void of his own to fill as well. During one of their many phone calls while they were apart, Cristol had listened while Wrangler had  talked at some length about his relationship with his dad, the decision to spend this time with him, and the emotions he was feeling being there. He said he needed his dad now more than ever. Though the man had never complained, he’d pretty much been cheated out of  sharing his kids’ Santa years. Even when they were teenagers, and old enough to know their dad must have been hurt, year after year they served him up a little slice of an afternoon carved out of the week following Christmas. Once or twice, they had kept him on hold until after New Year’s Day. It shamed Wrangler to recall how, in the past, finding time to see his dad was almost a chore. He and Porsche referred to it as “fitting him in.” Kevin had never complained, though, or made them feel bad about it. He was fun and thoughtful and made sure they knew he loved them and he was proud of them. And he gave them some really awesome presents that, deep down, they knew he really couldn’t afford. But the timing of their so-called Christmas visits with Dad – December 28th, or, 29th, or 30^th - meant that on the way to Dad’s they passed other people’s discarded trees with tinsel waving good bye from needle-sparse branches. The glow was off the season. Even the gayest wrapping paper looked tired and tree lights didn’t shine as brightly. Sadly, he admitted to Cristol that growing up, the so-called Christmas visit at Dad’s felt like an obligation. His sister called them “a big ho ho hum.”

This year was different. Wrangler sounded happy as he detailed for Cristol what had been going on. He and his dad had gone to see a much hyped new action film – the “big Christmas release” -  and agreed it was a disappointment. That put them in search of something different, and lucky for them,  they found a small, out of the way theater  playing  a zombie movie, “Bled White,” filmed in a desolate location somewhere outside of  Chicago in the dead of winter. Zombie movies were Wrangler and Kevin’s favorite genre, and their serendipitous discovery made their day. “It was just luck. We saw the poster, it said it had won some awards, so we said ‘what the hell…” She wasn’t listening to content as much as emotion. It was clear that Wrangler was stoked.

“It was awesome, Cristol. Not hokey at all. The music, too, Dad really liked it but we couldn’t come up with a word to describe it, then Dad said, ‘it’s like trying to find a word for the Law and Order sound, you know…”

“Wrangler? Enough already. I’m glad you and your Dad had a good time.”

“Thanks, Cristol. We did, we really did. If it comes out in DVD, you and I will rent it. Then you’ll see. It could have been filmed near Azzolla, abandoned house, snow blowing across stretches of empty…”

 “Thanks, but no thanks. What’d you say the name was? Blood in the snow? Yuck!”

“Bled White, and you’re wrong. It’s not all bloody and stuff like that, the story isn’t hokey, it’s awesome, you’ll see when we rent it.”

Cristol began to envision the fun of snuggling up to Wrangler and watching a scarey movie. “Okay, we’ll rent it,” she said.

“Cool. Mom and Porsche would even like it.”

Cristol rarely heard him so talkative. She let him go on even though her mind wandered. It was just nice to hear him so happy.

 “… and there was a girl in it I haven’t seen before  –  real pretty. Sort of looks like a younger Jodie Foster or Kate Hudson. I’m going to look on IMDB and see what else she’s been in. Dad said she looked like Porsche. Gotta remember her name, Colleen something…Boag? I think that’s it.”

Wrangler had made a mistake.“Your fat brunette girlfriend doesn’t need to hear that you’ve fallen for some cute blonde on a screen. Who do I look like to you? Kirstie Alley?”

Wrangler shut up. There was uncomfortable silence.

“So tell me something else you’ve been doing or I’m going to hang up.”

“Ummm, we watched some boxing.” They had stayed up late one night watching pay-per-view boxing. Set after set, father and son found themselves both routing for the underdogs. The next day they’d begun talking about the different matches and the personalities and styles of the fighters and ended up analyzing why they themselves could identify with being an underdog. “And we found out we like the same guys. Umm, boxers…” He saw no point in saying much more. “Gotta go, see you in a few days.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

 Cristol tossed and turned. She imagined all her friends ringing in the new year with music and alcohol. That’s where she belonged. Like the year before, she and JJ had gotten so drunk that the next day her friends told her she’d done things she couldn’t remember. She punched her pillow and heaved herself onto her other side. Life isn’t fair, she thought.

With her imagination, she pushed the clock ahead a year to next new year’s eve. Her stomach would be flat again. Maybe her parents would stay in the capital and she and Wrangler could throw a party. It would be a big one. It had been grim not partying, not drinking, not hanging out with everyone, and not smoking weed.

At the thought of pot she felt queasy. She turned back to her left side again. As much as she tried, she couldn’t get comfortable. What had she eaten that was making her ill? Maybe it was the spicy sauce on the moose meatballs. Big mistake, she thought.

At 2 AM Cristol was dreaming that she was in school, hurrying down a crowded hallway, hoping no one would notice she had peed her pants. She awoke to find the bed was warm and wet. “I’ve wet the bed!” she thought in horror. 
Three seconds later, truth hit her.
“MOMMEEE!”