The address on the mailbox clearly read “148”. This home was gorgeous. Compared to the other houses on this block, it boasted a freshness apparent to the naked eye. Not built over a hundred years ago like the other neighboring homes, this house stood out without the aid of holiday decorations. The brickwork was immaculate, as was the crystal clear bay window that captured and then reflected the headlights of an oncoming car

     The formal dining room featured a dining table made of glass sitting on a black marble pedestal. It looked as if it was just delivered within the last few days. The dining room chairs were also modern, with thick black cushions and upholstered arms. A grandfather clock ticked away in the far corner of the room. Although brand new, the clock still looked like a grandfather indeed owned it. The walls were covered with exquisite silver and black small print wallpaper that had recently been hung. The carpeting was a light beige Berber that looked as if it had never even been stepped upon. The dark oak door frame and cove molding woodwork were gorgeous. The furnishings in the living room were all brand new and distinctively modern. Sleek black leather chairs, brass accent pieces, stylish lamps, and large sofa-size paintings filled the room with a touch of elegance. The interior of the home was just as spectacular as the exterior.

Thanksgiving Day

148 Festive Lane

Lake Forest, IL

6:00 p.m.

     It was exactly one year to the day that a gas leak explosion leveled the house on this site, killing five very special people. Michael spent most of the year building a new structure on the foundation of the magical old house. Unfortunately, the decorations that Michael and Arianna accumulated over the years were also destroyed in the fire. Michael purchased just a few items to signify his undying faith in the magic of Christmas.

     Having moved out of his apartment and into the house a few weeks prior, Michael became depressed and weary from last year's memories. Visiting the cemetery early this morning, he was overwhelmed with sadness, recalling the family and friends he lost so tragically. He no longer blamed himself for the accident but still felt guilty to be alive when all he loved was gone. 

6:00 am 
 December 25th

      “Daddy? Dad? Hey Dad, you awake?” asks the super excited 6-year-old of Harry.

      “I am now. Ernie, it’s… what time is it anyway?” Harry stammers and then looks at the clock on his nightstand.

      “6 o’clock? Ernie, it’s way too early to get up. Go back to sleep for a couple of more hours,” Harry said.

      “But it’s Christmas, Dad. Santa may have already come. We need to go downstairs to see what he brought me,” said Ernie.

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Okay, but let me make some coffee first,” replied Harry, unaware that Susan has walked into the room.

      “I already made the coffee, and here is a cup to get you moving,” said Susan.

      “Why are you gaining up on me? I prayed that today would be a better day, but so far, not so much,” Harry stated.

      “Come on, Harry, your son, would like to see if Santa brought him any gifts. Let’s go see before Ernie bursts from his curiosity,” said Susan.

      Ernie jumps off the bed and runs to the door. “I’ll race you, Dad,” and he’s out of the room in a flash.

      “I guess he won. Now, back under the nice warm covers,” said Harry as he lies back down.

      “Get up, Daddy! You have responsibilities to your son and the rest of your family as well,” shouted Susan.

Once outside, Caitlin and Rose stood in silence and disbelief. The warm winter night was now hot. Over 100 degrees and the sky was bright with what looked like fire. The sound surrounding them was that of a tornado of fire, filling their ears with a loud streaming freight train-like sound effect. They placed their hands over their ears to block out the sound.

      They watched as Jack held Rick three feet off the ground by his neck. Suddenly out of the sky, blended in with the firestorm, came a black chariot. Four black horses with large black wings pulled the chariot through the sky and then landed in front of the house. The chariot was driverless, but the horses knew what to do. They were larger than Clydesdales and snorted dark gray smoke, and made a horrific noise as they stomped their large hoofs onto the street. 

      In horror, the girls watched as Jack threw their father into the black chariot, and then Jack walked back to the girls.

      “I’m sorry, girls, but your father murdered Lindsay. There is no tolerance for a child of God to commit such an act, especially one that has been given many chances to follow God or follow Satan. He will now spend eternity with the one he has chosen to follow. He is on his way to hell,” said Jack.

      Caitlin was crying uncontrollably but managed to shout out, “Daddy, we love you! We will miss you! We know you didn’t mean it. Ask God to forgive you!”

      Rick replied, “You be good, my little bitches. Mind your mother, the queen bitch. And I did mean it. I just missed your mom and hit Victor’s little whore.”

      At the front door stood Patrick and Megan McCann, Rick’s parents. 

      “Patrick! Megan! What are you doing here?” asked Susan.

      “Susan? Carin’s sister? What are you doing here?” asked Megan.

      “I live here. This is our home. The kids are incredibly happy here. If you are here with a plan of stealing our kids away from us, you are in for the fight of your life. We love these children as if they were our own, and we consider them as such,” shouted Susan.

      “Calm down, Susan. We are not here to take the kids. We believe that they are happy to be here with you. Besides, they would have to be dead to come to be with us, and we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” said Patrick.

      “Oh, my God. You died?” asked Caitlin.

      “Yes, sweetie, a little over a year ago. We both caught the nasty virus that was going around, and we couldn’t recover. First, your grandfather passed, and then I died just a week later,” said Grandma Megan.

      “I’m so sorry for your passing. I apologize for yelling at you,” said Susan.

      “It’s quite alright, my dear. It shows us that you were the right choice all along to care for the children. We have to admit that we have no idea why we are here, how we got here, or how it is possible to be among the living once again. Can anyone explain this to us?” asked Megan.

      “Why don’t you follow me and I will try my best,” said Martha as she took the McCann’s by their arms and into the family area of the home.

      As the church bells chimed for the sixth time, the doorbell rang. Harry took a deep breath and said, “Okay, here we go.” He opened the door, and there stood Martha.

      “Merry Christmas, Hill Family!” she exclaimed.

      “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Kennedy,” replied Harry as he hugged Martha.

      “Who ordered this warm weather? I was pulling out my winter coat for the trip, and Joseph said I didn’t need a coat, gloves, or hat this Christmas on earth,” she said.

      “Ah… who is this Joseph dude, Martha?” asked Victor as he hugged her as well.

      “That Joseph dude is God’s most trusted and dependable angel. He manages heaven and gives the assignments to the other angels. Best be respectful to him, Victor, or he might just turn you into a donkey,” said Martha.

      “A donkey!” he exclaimed and laughed but then stopped when Martha gave him a look. “Oh.. you are serious. Okay then… sorry about that most righteous Joseph. I was just goofing around. No offense meant,” Victor replied.

      “Victor, are your ears growing? Look at his butt Rose; any tail growing there?” asked Caitlin. 

      “Knock it off, you guys! My ears aren’t growing! Are they? Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, please help me!” Victor screamed.

      “See, you have known Joseph all along Victor as well as Jesus and Mary, I see,” said Martha.

      “Oh, that Joseph. Okay then. I’m cool with that,” replied Victor as he continued grabbing his ears to make sure they are not growing.

      A year had passed, and life continued for the Hill family. Each, a year older and for a few wiser as well, but the subject of conversation persisted in being would Rick and Carin be joining the family this second Christmas at the magical house on Festive Lane.

      “For December 24th in Chicago, the weather feels more like Florida than Illinois,” said Harry as he finished stringing the lights on the garage roofline. 

      “I know. I’m soaked to the bone from sweat. I need a shower and some clean clothes,” replied Victor, who helped Harry with the lights.

      This year the Hills were much better prepared for the events that would soon evolve once the clock struck 6:00 pm on this warm and sultry Christmas Eve. Susan and Caitlin were busy setting up extra seating in the kitchen and family room, where most of the guests assembled last year. Susan also prepared several turkey and vegetable courses to complement the sweets the guests would be bringing. Last year even the elderly were sugared up and bouncing off the walls from too many sweets. Susan wanted to make sure the guests received a couple of solid meals while visiting her home.

      “Wow, something smells great,” said Harry as he and Victor entered the kitchen from the back-garage entrance. 

      “It’s one of five turkeys I have prepared for our guests. I hope it’s enough,” replied Susan.

      “It’s enough for Harry and me, but I don’t know what the guests are going to eat,” said Victor as he started picking at one of the already cooked turkeys resting on the counter.

6:00 pm Christmas Day

      As the church bells rang out, the guests at the house on Festive Lane began to gather their belongings and bid their hosts a good evening until next Christmas. Harry, Susan, and the kids stood by the front door and wished each guest a Merry Christmas and safe travels to their place on the other side. Guests would leave in the reverse order that they arrived; thus, Harry and Susan’s parents, who arrived first, would depart last. The guests walked out the front door and into the night, disappearing into a blizzard one by one. Carrying only the trays that they brought with them, now void of all cakes, cookies, and waffles, the guests filed out in quick order. Now it was Ernest who was preparing to leave.

      “Ernest, what do you have there?” asked Martha.

      “My phone that Santa gave me,” he replied.

      “Oh dear, you are not allowed to take anything back with you that you didn’t bring with you when you arrived,” Martha said.

      “But I have to keep it with me so I can talk to daddy,” Ernest said desperately.

      “Martha, Santa did give it to him. It wouldn’t be right not to let him keep it,” said Susan, unaware that the phone was actually Victor’s old phone.

      “What’s the worst that can happen if he takes the phone back with him?” asked Harry.

      “He won’t be allowed to return to this house ever again,” said Martha.

      With a puzzled look on his face, Harry asked, “What’s that you say? It sounded like you said he was my son.”

      “That’s what I said, and that’s who he is. Ernest, this man is your father. His name is Harry,” said Martha.

      “Daddy? Are you dead too? My momma told me my dad had died in a war,” said Ernest.

      Harry stood there dumbfounded and looked at Susan, who was as confused as Harry.

      “See, there… I was never in the service and thus proves I am not this boy’s father,” said Harry.

      “His mother just told him that, so she didn’t have to tell him you were just a one-night stand,” said Martha.

      “One-night stand?” Moi? Why I never… how long ago… was she a blonde…oh oh,” said Harry.

      “Oh-oh? Oh-oh? What do you mean, oh-oh?” asked Susan doing the math in her head. 

      “How old is he again? When did he die?” questioned Susan.

      “Don’t get crazy, Susan; his mother was a one night stand with Harry about a year before Harry met you,” replied Martha.

      “Now I remember her but not her name,” said Harry.

      “Ernest, what was your mother’s name?” asked Susan.

      “Mommy. I called her mommy,” said Ernest.

      7:00 am-

      As the sun shines into the master bedroom, the interior is bright and bold. Harry squints to see the alarm clock on his nightstand. 

      “7:03? It’s Christmas morning, for Pete’s sake. Why can’t I ever sleep in? If it’s not the kids, it’s Max. (Max pushes the door open and enters the room, jumping up on the bed.) Speak of the devil. Susan, are you going to let this beast get away with this? Susan?”

      Harry looks to the other side of the bed, but it is without his wife. Max makes himself at home and lies belly up as Harry rubs the pooches’ tummy.

      “I bet you would like to go outside, wouldn’t you?” Harry asked Max.

      “WOOF!” is the reply.

      “Okay, big guy, let’s proceed to the backyard post-haste, shall we?” Harry asked.

      Max leaps from the bed and is out the door in a flash. Harry dons a pair of sweats and throws on a ball cap as he slips on a pair of slippers and begins his trek down the stairs to the kitchen. As Harry walks through the house, the reality of the previous night sets in once again. 

      “I thought maybe I was just dreaming the whole thing, but no, there are 70 dead people in my house. I feel like that kid in that movie… I see dead people.”

      Harry lets Max out to do his morning business and then grabs the orange juice from the fridge. As he pours himself a glass, a little boy comes up behind him and pulls on his sweatshirt.