Ahh, Hambug Again

Stave One:

A Miserable Christmas Eve

Liberty had perished – it was an absolute, and little doubt could be given upon that. The moment the President had taken his oath – everything had been certified as tangible as the death certificate of Freedom’s undoing. It had been affirmed and stamped with official government authority and with it the ability to do whatsoever he wished instantly became that of President Thrump.

Mind you, I say not all this of my own observations, but with the evidence of cabinetry stacked before me. I’ve no choice but to recognize what is for what it is, and perhaps that is what you too shall be left to do. Such circumstances are not ones we hope to find ourselves, but I digress – what we hope for is often the insanity that keeps us cycling through, and believing somehow, someday, something might change.

But President Thrump was aware of the death of Liberty; and it seemed that was precisely what he wanted. It was strange to witness because Liberty had been the very thing he’d claimed to stand for and had granted him such a strong following. You would have assumed that his loyalty to his cause would be steadfast, but perhaps this was merely a masking to accomplish his endeavors.

Perhaps, we had been fooled all along to think President Thrump would concern himself with anything, or anyone – other than himself?

Repugnant as it was, President Thrump held no remorse for any of his decisions – even on the day of expected inauguration his respect for tradition seemed absent. He avoided signing any ethical agreement so that no oath to uphold goodness could ever bind him.

It having been a boisterously windy day with snow pelting into his face, President Thrump still held an arrogant smirk as he addressed me in short,

“Cardenas, you are too slow. I do not know why you had no awning before me. I should never have suffered a chapped nose from such cold.” President Thrump remarked, and with a tight fist slammed his hand upon his desk with a sudden and loud force. It was Christmas Eve and the President had hopes to sign several execution orders and felt overdue with time, “Bah, he declared, “this is a bug.”

“Christmas Eve’s a bug, Mister President? You can’t mean that, we could close up on this and come back.” Cardenas remarked, hoping the urgency would settle into his heart.

President Thrump, however, merely groaned at his words,

“Cardenas, I’ve never heard anything more absurd.”

“Well, Mister President; it could be a Merry Christmas you know – sitting around the fire, smiling, faces aglow?”

“A Merry Christmas, you say? Hah, but haven’t you heard of the poor? Needy, and wanting, begging some more?”

“Oh, but Mister President – surely you know, time spent with family in joy and contentment are worth more than the show. There’s plenty to be happy for, and much to appreciate. Surely, you’ve got to have something that makes you smile of late?” Cardenas remarked, perking an eyebrow, but President Thrump let out a loud groan and instantly bore a scowl.

“Tch, the only thing that appeases me is golfing and wine – anything that makes me feel better, and fine.”

“Now, Mister President – listen here, maybe we should quit while we’re a head and go out and get some gear?” Cardenas suggested, hopeful, and steadily, but again President Thrump simply shook his head,

“You are here to work, and I am here to lead – can’t you see there’s no time for petulance and celebration on this night? You have your Christmas – but carry it out of my sight, and I’ll relish my position as one of my festivities however I please and of all your problems, this should be the least of these.” Cardenas pursed his lips, seemingly unsure of what to say, but out came some words – simple in their way,

“President Thrump, you are not celebrating, you’re here commiserating. Surely, there’s something better you can do – after all it’s Christmas Eve and nearly everything else is closed.

Tell me, what is it you wish to accomplish while everything else is froze?”

“Cardenas, you annoy me – I’m losing patience, can’t you see? I’ve got you here for a purpose and it’s not to bug me.”

“President Thrump, I can perceive that many things are not going your way, and I have presented here to assist you just hours before Christmas Day. You say I am annoying, but the aggravation is in what I see. What is it exactly, that you want from me?”

“I don’t want to hear your lecture, and I don’t want to be run around. I want to accomplish going through that stack of papers that is starting to fall to the ground.” President Thrump stated sternly, and with little emotion at all. Cardenas, however, didn’t seem to care as he stood in place staring back at him with what seemed to be a glare.

“President Thrump, I too want more than an argument. A life where I can enjoy the holiday with merriment and fun would be great to imagine – but it seems you give this to no one.

I’m not sure what is going on deep inside your mind, but you know life could be much better if you were not so bitter all the time.” Cardenas closed his mouth then, and President Thrump was clearly mad, but the worst part about it was how it made Cardenas sad. To look upon this person with so much power in anything he chose to do, and see that he was cruel and thoughtless about others was more than he could chew.

“I care not to hear your pitiful statements, as I said I brought you here to work! Now get to stacking those documents before you no longer have a job. You seem to have forgotten your role here is to be my secretarial knob. Now, get to work and shut your mouth there’s much left to do and if you want out of here for any Christmas celebration you’ll get to moving now too!”

Stave Two:

A Specter of Christmas Past

President Thrump in an effort to remove himself in an act of avoidance, fled the office with a look of pure annoyance. His boots crunched the snow as he moved toward his car, and loudly he hollered to his driver,

“Hurry up – let’s get out of here – move it, I need to get far.” He approached the door, and his chauffeur gave a worried nod, moving to open the door less he once again be called a sod. So, used to vocalizations about his lack of worth – the driver knew better than to make a fuss as he watched President Thrump plop into his seat and promptly he drew in both feet.

“Yes, Mister President – no worries, I’ll drive quick. Just watch in a few moments you’ll be removed from this place that’s giving you the ick.”

“Shush it now – get in the driver’s seat. I’ve no desire to listen to you flapping your gums. I want to get home – and away from these slums!” President Thrump gave a huff as the chauffeur shut the door, and soon enough they were off as his foot smashed the gas pedal to the floor.

Moments later, they arrived – straight to the door of Thrump’s house, and opening the door the driver was quiet as a mouse.

“That will be all, you may go. I’ve no more need to see your face – and am eager to get in to watch a show.”

“Have a good evening, Mister President. I pray you sleep well and enjoy a Christmas of joy full of everything swell.” With the chauffeur sent off, the President once again let out a scoff and irritated as can be he headed inside to see what he could see. A drafty cold wind blew in when he entered, and President Thrump did visibly tremble.

“Why’s it so cold in this drafty old place? You’d think with my income I could keep some warmth in this space.” And feeling a bit tired, President Thrump opted to go warm himself in bed certain that if he kept freezing as he was he might wind up dead!

Now resting so soundly, President Thrump was curled up in his bed but something went thump and he lifted his head,

“What is that?” He looked around, hearing something squeaking on the ground. It crept even closer, but his eyes spotted now and pulling the blanket to his chin he called out again,

“Stop, who are you – what do you want?” A strange face, unknown but yet familiar suddenly popped up before President Thrump and with it alarmingly he rose to hit his head upon the bed with a loud and obnoxious bump.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past here to remind you of who you once were – at last.”

The hollowed face of a woman with deep-set eyes and a look of pure sadness came face to face with him causing goosebumps to break out upon his skin and terror crept up to seize his whole heart as the Ghost reached for him – clearly eager to start.

“No, no – this is a dream. It cannot be real. Surely I am still sleeping – let me rest and be still!” The cracking of President Thrump’s voice then did nothing to dispel the spirit and soon enough he felt a jerking on his pajamas and was pulled right from the bed – thrust into the air as the ghost clutched upon his wrist and flying through the night sky he felt a shiver from the wintry blend – but the ghost just kept going until a simple house with a tiny window seemed to solidify and the ghost began to descend. Only then did President Thrump begin to rake it all in,

“What is this – my childhood home? Why have you brought me here? I don’t understand…”

“You watch through the window and soon you will see – how somehow you’ve lost touch with your own humanity.” Directed by the Ghost, President Thrump leaned in to see and as he watched before him played out an old scene. It was the President seated some 40 years prior with his former wife and children all playing by the fire. With a kind and gentle smile, the President held his daughter on his knee and something about he seemed happy – in the midst of family.

“This is a time that does not exist, and that child has grown from a sweet young miss to a mother and a wife. I’ve no time for this now – I’ve a country to run, and the time for fun and memories is behind me. I’ve got more pressing things to do. The last thing I want is for the poor to deplete my legacy. I’ve grown beyond these kinds of mushy things and my priorities are elsewhere. Besides, I need to stack finances in order to ensure power remains. Now, take me from this place as I’ve seen more than enough. I care not to waste my sleep yearning for what matters not – like an evaporating puff.”

“No, you still need to listen to all that happens here. So, shut your mouth and watch on – or you’ll never flee from here.” The Ghost gave order, and the President groaned again, but he turned to listen intently to hear what happened next,

“Daddy, will you help the people like Ms. Pratchett down the street? If you could make enough money we could give her and her family plenty to eat.” The President’s daughter, so innocent and cute, bounced upon her Daddy’s knee looking curious and astute.

“Oh, she was such a smart young girl. I was so proud to hear her ask that, but now times

are different and I’m past all of that.”

“Suit yourself, President Thrump, but realize I’ve come to make you see – there’s a place within you that challenges this absurdity.”

“Bah, this is a bug.” Murmured the President and the Ghost snapped a finger – tucking President Thrump back into his bed – as if everything he’d just witnessed had just played out in his head.

Stave Three:

A Present of Poverty

Thrump awoke all of a sudden, his head throbbing with a jagged ache. Something fierce and painful – he was sure it was the cause of his late-night struggle and it seemed to throb on the double.

“Such wretched pain – so unimaginable. This nightmare was nearly tangible. But the times of the past cannot be brought back. Surely everyone with any sense has to know that. I won’t let some phantasm from a fevered dream set me back from all I aim to see. Never, never – I do solemnly swear, will I ever give in to their demands out there. It is not the place of a strong country – to willingly bend for those who are hellbent and staying stuck in their laziness. We work, we earn, and we retain all that’s ours. That’s the way of a man in charge!” Thrump roared in the darkness, reaching to his bedside and flipping on the switch as if he had nothing to hide. Positive that no one had heard him, and not even caring should they dare – as to enter his lair was to caught fire to their hair and he’d sooner skin someone alive than have them flee, freely, from there.

“Now, what…” came a whisper, a ghastly shrillness on the wind – gusting and blowing straight into Thrump’s face again. And try as he might, Thrump could scarcely contain it – his lungs inflating with air so fast he thought he might faint from it. The temperature turned frosty, and a sudden iciness filled the room and all Thrump could do was inch up toward the headboard, his fingers clutching at his bedspread, like talons so skeletal they clung to the threads – as if they too were tell-tale signs of all his deepfelt feelings of dread. But nothing came from his lips, no not one single peep – as Thrump felt his heart pounding against his chest.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

“What next I said – are you unable to speak? Hurry now – you were making declarations like a bird yapping its beak.” Again, came the shrill voice, driving snow and ice to dance through the air – as it met the bridge of Thrump’s nose – so obviously left bare. Thrump shuddered, but could not move – as if paralyzed by the sound. His eyes flashed to and fro – up and down, and all around, to the ground and up again – but seemingly nothing was there. No one was to be seen – none other occupied the room, except for him.

“I…” the crack of Thrump’s voice barely scraped the room, but the ghastly sound remarked crudely upon this discovered truth,

“Have you got your tongue lodged in your windpipe? I’ve come to show you something about this very night.” A sudden light did flash – as if lightning had struck the room and in its illuminating glory a fierce and shocking face came through. It was that of Thrump’s assistant,

Cardenas, yet morphed in swift to someone he never could’ve thought – as the face of his ex-wife and mother of his eldest children began to smile impishly – an eerie and strange delight emanating from her flickering eyes and it took Thrump no time at all to recognize.

“You – I know you, but you died. This cannot be. Shoo, figment of my imagination leave me to sleep peacefully.” He begged in quaking terror, still pressed up against the headboard, but the ghost before him seemed leered in pleasure – gleeful at his misery and discord.

“Come – let me show you what your actions do cause,” and without a moment’s pause, the ghost pulled Thrump from his mattress, jerking him into the air and flying toward the window Thrump’s eyes bugged out in fear.

“No, no – stop; we’ll slam into the glass. Oh God, please – my dear!” His pleas were left unheard, however, as the ghost finally floated to a sideview. A space to peek in the window, so

Thrump could listen and hear well too,

“No, shut your big trap and open your cotton-filled ears – there are others to consider whose lives are full of tears, and you’re to blame for all that they go through. So, look upon your actions – and maybe soon you’ll feel woeful.”

“Who are you?” Thrump asked, glancing from the ghost to the glass, and with a low murmur the ghost did say,

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present – and now it’s time for you to see this day.” A nod toward the glass, and Thrump began to watch as Cardenas’ family gathered around their table and Christmas tree, but to his surprise there seemed to be – not single gift in sight, not for one person in the family. He watched as a small child with an obvious affliction strove to walk from the table through the kitchen, and then Cardenas ran to the child’s side – carrying him back to sit as the boy seemed to throw a fit,

“No, papi; let me walk. I don’t want to be carried for everyone to gawk.”

“No, calm down, Tito – it’s Christmastime, just let me help out. I’m too busy any other time.”

“It’s not like we have anything but eggs and bread to eat – and even less presents, but at least it’s something warm, and we’re not on the street.” Tito murmured with sadness as Cardenas looked on,

“Now, now – Thrump will soon give me a raise, maybe after the new year. Try not to look so somber – come on, let’s see a little cheer?” Cardenas then smiled down at the boy, who Thrump now gathered to be his young son – someone he barely made note of, and it made him feel suddenly glum.

“I did not know Tito had it so bad. I want to leave from here – I don’t like this feeling…this…what is it, sad?” Thrump frowned and peered downward – he had nothing further to say. As he had saw something that he could never unseen, this very, Christmas Day.

Stave Four:

A Future of Despair

Yet again, Thrump awake, this time covered in sweat and he peered around to notice the curtains of his room were flapping in the wind – as his window seemed to be left wide open for any to get in. He gave a light shiver, and wondered if it was just a night of terror. And now that he was shivering and back in his bed he lifted his hand and began to massage the back of his head,

“I must be losing it – lack of sleep is causing me to feel ill. All these dreams are strange and full of things I’ve never imagined – nor cared to by will.” He spoke aloud again, the comfort of his own voice only serving to distract him from his discomfort, but the suddenly a sound came reaching to tug upon his ear – that of something rattling, heavy, and his heart immediately lunged with fear. What could be coming – this time the ice did not blow through, but instead something different seemed to raise the temperature a degree or two. A soft red emanation began to emerge from the corner of his room, and Thrump felt himself choke up as he was as frightened as can be – shocked by the madness of what he was seeing, and once again concreted to the headboard with his fingers curled about the bedspread – his head still aching, but this time with dread.

Slowly the glowing redness seemed to shape into eyes, and a hooded entity dressed in black came barreling toward him, sending Thrump to holler and beggingly he pleaded,

“Oh, please – don’t harvest me, I’m not ready to be dead!” His eyes peered back in fear as the entity came nearer, and in sudden shock he watched as a bony finger emerged to tap his nose, and all the same he could do nothing more – so he froze. The entity did cackle – and the sound was a symphony of glee, as if this very being found pleasure in seeing Thrump beg and plea. A flash of lighting erupted, and Thrump suddenly found himself standing near an oak – a misty greying darkness all around him – snug as an envelope.

In the distance, a single man stood, the starkness of his black suit seemingly all that made him clear, and beside Thrump the hooded entity with its bony finger pointed yet again – as if to say, look – see what your wrongs have caused you, see what became of you in the end!

“No, it cannot be,” Thrump murmured as the man walked away from view – leaving him an opportunity to read the gravestone the man had stood to attend;

HERE LIES RONNIE THRUMP: AN EVIL BASTARD TO THE BITTER END

“What?” Thrump declared, stunned by the words upon the tombstone – and the entity beside him let out an ominous laugh, as Thrump shook his head in astonishment and cried out in haste, “No, no, no – get me out of this place!”

Stave Five:

A Brighter Christmas of Redemption and Change

Thrump’s eyes widened in a flash – glancing around as his heart beat again, this time he sat up and leapt – noting the sun had risen and his dreaded dark night had finally come to an end,

“What awful dreams have I had?” Tossing the bedspread from his arms, and running toward his closet – Thrump grabbed a long, wool jacket. This time he chose to forgo all his fanciness, choosing to be humble and warm and rushing out the door. He hadn’t much time to make things right, but he was in a rush and he didn’t care if he didn’t appease others’ sights. He ran for the door, forgetting his hat, feet in his shoes and jacket flapping in the wind Thrump made his way to the front door searching for his driver man, “Hurry, hurry – I must make it to the office. I’ve got to grant the Christmas bonuses before it’s much too late.”

“What did you say, Sir? I don’t understand.” Came the voice of Thrump’s driver man,

“Now, don’t you fret over what I just said – just hurry and I’ll call Cardenas on the way.

By the way, did you know Cardenas has a special needs son? We need to reward him for all the hard work he’s done.”

“Um, I’m not sure I know about anything, Mr. President, but whatever you wish – I’ll get you to the office as quick as can be. Here let me open the door, so you can be comfy.”

“Thank you, kindly, and that’s good. I’ll have to slate you a bonus check too – again, I must thank you all for everything you do.” Thrump remarked, slipping into the car and watching as the door shut – he reached for his cellphone, quickly dialing Cardenas’ number and grinning from ear to ear.

“Hello, Cardenas; meet me at the office – I won’t be kept waiting. I’ve got something important that needs immediate slating.” Thrump ordered, in his typical tone – his lips still holding to his impish smile – as he knew what trick he was going to pull all the while.

“Why, yes, Sir – is all well? I didn’t expect you to call me today, so do tell.” Cardenas inquired, but Thrump gave a scoff.

“No, don’t get ahead – just show up instead.” Thrump murmured, hanging up. In moments, he arrived to see Cardenas already standing outside and as he leapt out the car he made point to dance toward the man, holding out his hand as he grinned merrily.

“Cardenas, I never knew Tito had it so hard, but I’m here to give you this bonus you see – so you can enjoy a merry Christmas with your family.”

“What Mr. President – why would you do that sir? It’s unlike you?” Cardenas questioned but Thrump merely grinned, waving his hand with a chuckle you see – as he declared loud and proudly,

“I’ve had a change of heart and realized I’ve been a really bad person – consider this my coming to the light and choosing to be someone others don’t wanna put a curse on.”

Cardenas gave a smile and nodded just then, as all seemed right in the world just at once – a thing he never thought he’d see from someone like Ronnie Thrump.

THE END