Comments
A HOLIDAY MISSIVE - Half-way through his thirteenth late night post, once again excoriating several late-night program hosts, he dozed off. A few minutes later, a shuddering chill swept through the room and two apparitions appeared, one on each side of his bed. Startled, he looked left and then right and sat up.
“Who the hell are you? How’d you get in here?”
The ghost on his right leaned in and said, “I’m Past. He’s Present. We got in through the wall.”
“Past? Present? Get out of here.”
“We can’t do that, sir,” said Past. “’Tis the season, after all. We’re here to guide you to a better life.”
“The season? Oh, wait, I get it. The Scrooge thing, right? No need, fellas, I’m just fine.”
Past snorted. “Hardly. The fact is your case is so astonishing that it requires both of us. We usually visit one after the other, but that’s not sufficient in your case.”
Past pulled an enormous file from beneath his frock. Present followed suit.
“I’ll start,” said Past. “The record shows you deliberately discriminated against people of color who wanted to rent apartments from you. It shows that you’ve been forced to pay substantial fines for con games and refusing to pay people who worked for you. Then there’s the matter of your fidelity in marriage, never mind sexual assault.
“That’s just the beginning. You target downtrodden and distressed strangers who come to you fleeing horrible conditions in hope of safety and security. You not only refuse to help them, but you also routinely denigrate them. You treat huddled masses yearning to breathe free as criminals yearning to murder, rape and flee.”
“Hoaxes. All lies from those who don’t agree with me.”
Past snickered. “That’s a perfect example of your most amazing transgression. You never accept responsibility. It’s always somebody else’s fault.”
Present nodded. “But we don’t need to look backward to see your total disregard for decency and compassion. You just embraced the vicious, brutal murder of a critic by vilifying him before his body was cold. You demean women. You make fun of mental illness victims. You’ve lied so often about your promised healthcare plan – a few days, a week, a month away – that even angels cringe.”
“Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah. I’m the best President ever. They say I’m the best leader the world has ever seen. Nobody has ever been as great as I am. I’m a genius!”
Past spread his arms and the room grew even darker. “Enough. The truth is you’re the only one who believes that. The point is, sir, if you don’t act like the Christian you claim to be, your future is bleak and empty. We’re going to leave you to reflect on your sins, but Future will be along soon enough to tell you how miserable your tomorrows will be.”
“Tell him not to bother. I’m going to keep on doing what I do and to hell with anybody who gets in my way.”
Present’s laughter was harsh and brutal.
“Good luck with that,” he said. “Unless you change, your future is so unpleasant that those entering hell will be greeted by you.”
They vanished.
The man shook himself awake.
“Idiots,” he said.
*With a nod to Mr. Dickens, David M. Hamlin wishes one and all happy holidays and a brighter future.
(David M. Hamlin’s commentaries appear regularly in CityWatchLA. His other writings, including novels and short stories, are available at his website, www.dmhwrites.com.)
