Return of the Magi: a heartwarming Christmas story by P. J. Tracy

Author:P. J. Tracy [Tracy, P. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781405934534
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2017-08-04T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Emil had seen the dayroom yesterday from the hall, but actually being in it was about as depressing as it could get – there was steel mesh on the windows, an ancient TV on a wall-mounted rack, and ugly airport chairs bolted to the floor. From his very limited experience, the patients mostly sat around here watching news or nature shows while they drooled on themselves, but this was a whole new scene, pure mayhem, and he didn’t like it one bit.

A throng of patients was clamoring in high-intensity excitement around a fake Christmas tree that was still partially wrapped in plastic, chattering among themselves like a pack of gossipy old church ladies on angel dust. And for some reason Doc Harold was just chilling in a corner, watching calmly while a bunch of crazy people escalated themselves into a psychotic foam. Worse yet, the two old sisters were there, sitting primly in the vinyl chairs like they were watching a tennis match.

Edith and Gloria caught sight of him and waved. ‘Hello, Emil! Please come and watch with us. This is the biggest day of the year, you know, when we put up the tree.’

‘Ye-eah, I can see that.’

Dr Harold strode over, nodding politely at Edith and Gloria. ‘Sorry, ladies, but Mr Rice is busy.’

‘I am?’

‘He’s going to help us put up the tree.’

Gloria gave the doctor a pout. ‘So he can’t sit with us while we watch Ralph ruin everything?’

Edith looked around the room, frowning. ‘Ralph’s not here. That’s odd.’

‘Maybe he was finally electrocuted.’ Gloria sighed happily.

‘Ralph is still up in his room,’ Emil said, his eyes wary and distracted as he watched patients trying to string suicide-proof paper tinsel on the prone plastic-wrapped tree. ‘Uh … Doc? Isn’t this getting a little out of hand?’

‘Why is Mr Flowers still in his room?’ Dr Harold asked sharply. ‘He’s supposed to be down here with the general population.’

Emil sighed. ‘He had a doodle. In his pants. His words, not mine.’

Doc Harold’s eyebrows drifted upward slightly. ‘Did you take care of it?’

‘Of course I did. Can’t leave a man in a compromising situation like that, now, can you?’

‘Good job, son. Now get that tree up.’

‘I hate Ralph,’ Gloria said amiably.

Emil felt a hard hit from behind and big arms encircling his torso, nearly knocking the wind clean out of him. He squawked and spun around to see a jubilant Ralph prancing about like a show pony. ‘It’s the tree day, Emil! The tree day! Soap and water!’

Gloria smiled smugly at Edith. ‘One of the many reasons I hate Ralph. He so rarely makes sense.’

Emil backed away, hands up. ‘Hey, hey, hey, Ralph, chill out, dude. We’ll get the tree up, okay?’

Ralph smiled gleefully and chanted, ‘Get it up, get it up, get the damn thing up!’

As Ralph raced toward the tree, snatching a handful of tinsel along the way, Emil gave Dr Harold a long-suffering glance. ‘Really?’

‘Really. But if it makes you feel any better, you seem to have a natural rapport with the mentally ill.

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