Tablino

The train with gray sides only interrupted by the white stripe that ran down the whole length of the train sped over the large metal bridge. My soft breath fogged the glass windows, clogging my vision of New York City, the first landmark I remembered from my previous travels through the great city. As the train sped down the tracks, making a loud clackity-clack that was the only noise other then the soft whispers that could be heard from the other passengers that accompanied me on my long ride home.

I wiped away the fog from my breath from my window and shifted my position in my small dining booth. Beyond the window's tinted glass I could see soft white puffs of snow drifting down. I saw past that the massive Empire State building. The late winter day sun cast a blinding golden light off the many windows. I felt my eyes drooping slowly. I shook myself awake, which was very difficult not behind outside my body which doesn't seem very possible.

I turned back to my table where a black pen was lying on a sheet of plain white paper decorated with drawings of holly leaves and Christmas trees around two lone words and a comma, hopefully the beginning of my letter: "Dear Santa." I sighed. What was I supposed to ask about? Haven't being off the campus of St. Thomas Preparatory School since last Christmas, I didn't know anything about what to ask for. The most I'd seen of the outside world was from the old televisions in the lounge which didn't have cable and the most anybody watched was the news every once in a while.

I groaned as I let myself fall backwards in my seat in the soft red dining booth seat. Maybe I could ask the big guy (and from what I had heard, he was a very big guy) for something deep and thoughtful, spiritual like in the movies. Of course the movies were scripted and only the writers thought them up, so the movies didn't count. I leaned forward and picked up my pen, trying to find some space inside my meaningless doodles. I wrote in my own messy, dysgraphic handwriting, "All I want for Christmas is…" I shook my head, scolding myself. Only someone who was completely selfish would jump right into writing about themselves. I quickly scratched out that line and began writing once again. "How are you? Is the North Pole cold? Oh right, well that's a meaningless question, of course it's cold, it is the North Pole. Is there really a North Pole? I mean a real pole saying in big red letters, 'North Pole'?"

Again, I scratched out what I had just written. I was rambling, again. I coughed into my hand and crumpled up the sheet of my doodles and two words that were visible and threw it out into the aisle. I winced after I threw it and slid out of the booth and picked up my ball of paper and ink. I walked towards the bathroom unsteadily from the constantly moving train. I opened the door and tossed my balled up letter to Santa Claus. I slammed the shut the door and fell backwards from a sudden jump in the tracks. I cursed under my breath as I rubbed the back of my head and pushed myself up from the train car floor.

I stood up and stumbled towards the door of the train car. If I could make it to the baggage car, I might be able to fish out my book of Christmas stories which I had the urge to bring to my home far down the coast and inland in Pennsylvania. As I opened the sliding door, the noise of the train over the tracks which I had thought was loud before suddenly hit me as a noise that even my… former dad could have heard, him being half-deaf.

I looked down at the tracks speeding below me and instantly looked up. I gulped and jumped across the gap between the cars. I pulled open the door on the other side. I quickly entered the train car. Luckily, I would only have to cross the gap once more because I had chosen the car closest to the luggage car. I walked through the aisles of luggage reaching the top of the car, scanning them for a deep blue St. Thomas Prep School among the others. At last I found it, which wasn't very hard as it was the only bag with the St. Thomas shield on it. It was below another pile of bags.

I pulled on the shoulder strap with all my might. The bag moved and I stopped to take deep breaths. I stood up and began pulling again. As the blue bag flew out from under the pile, I heard a sound like piles of suitcase falling on top of each other. I looked up and saw the wall of luggage falling towards me. I screamed in surprise and dove out of the way as the luggage fell right where I had just stood a second ago.

I walked over to my blue suitcase and zipped it open. After I fished through a few of my possessions, my toiletry bag, some pajamas, the few presents that I had made in art class and wrapped using ripped up lunch bags and a change of clothes for Christmas day, I found the book of Christmas stories that U had been given for my birthday and never even read a word of it yet.

I zipped up my bag and stood, all the while looking at the fat, blue book with an illustration of Santa Claus on the front that I held in my hands. I turned around and walked away slowly, all the while scanning the shimmering cover of the book. I guess I was in a daze, because I walked into the door. A little dizzy as I stumbled back and held my head, I dropped the book

It fell to the ground on its corner with a thump and bounced away into the darkness. I closed my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

Always happens to me… I thought to myself with a grumble as I walked into the darkness of the corner of the luggage car.

I stumbled blindly though the blackness, my arms outstretched to make sure I don't walk into any more walls or doors or anything of the stiff, wall-like form. My foot bumped into a book. I leaned down and picked it up. It felt sort of like the book before. I walked out of the darkness and into the light, a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. I looked down at the book I held in my hands.

It wasn't the same book that I had retrieved from my bag. This one had a golden cover with no wording at all, no author, no title. I opened the crisp white pages, which was surprising as it was covered in a thin layer of dust. A cardboard pop-up formed as I opened the pages.

I blinked in surprise. I closed the book, keeping my thumb in the page to mark it. I looked at the edge of the book. None of the pages seemed to have the large gap between each page as normally pop-up books have, not even the one I had my thumb in. I opened up the book again to the page my thumb marked. Again the pop-up formed.

The pop up was a tall Christmas tree, decorated in glittering, colorful orbs with light strung about the great boughs and golden tinsel forming a curtain of gold. All around the bottom of the tree presents of all shapes and sizes and colors were laid. What looked like jolly old short people carrying more presents to the tree were scattered through out the two-page spread.

I blinked again in surprise and turned the page. Another pop-up appeared. This one was of a snow covered town all decorated for Christmas with multi-colored lights strung around the windows and doors. I closed the book. For the third time that day, I blinked in surprise the cover had little indentations. I looked at them closely and saw letters forming words.

The North Pole

I rolled my eyes. What a common Christmas book name, the person who must have written… or in this case, cut out the book didn't have mush imagination. It was about the North Pole and the getting ready for Christmas and blah, blah, blah, same old stuff..

I sighed and tossed the old book back into the dusty corner. I followed it into the dark corner until I noticed the blue book of Christmas Stories under a number of shelves holding luggage. I smiled lightly, relieve that I didn't have to go into the dusty, dark corner where I could find more odd books with unimaginative titles and odd pages that oddly held pop-ups that cannot be seen from the side and have no imagination about the story line, if any.

I squatted down and rushed under the rack to pick up the book. I glanced sideways at the dark corner, almost fearfully of the golden covered book. I shook my head to rid it of these stupid thoughts and grabbed the book.

I stood up and walked back to the door, careful not to walk into any walls, and slid open the door. The deafening sound of the train hit me once again. The train was now rumbling through the outskirts of New York City. I leaped across the gasp and landed awkwardly. I made a mad flailing with my arms, trying to grab the door handle. I started to fall backwards with my arms swing around me in vain, trying to grab something to hold myself up with.

 The book fell onto the ledge of the luggage car as I grabbed the same ledge. I was now holding on for my dear life between the two cars. My eyes grew large as the deafening roar of the train going over the tracks screamed in my ears, tempting me to let go and fall to my death. I noticed what looked like two hooks holding the trains together. I took a deep breath and let my legs fall onto the hooks. I balanced carefully on the rods. I pushed myself up right and ran across the rods. I leaped onto the edge of the luggage car.

I sighed in relief and tried to silence the beating of my heart. I reached down and picked up the book off the ledge. I leaped across the gap and landed a little more gracefully. I pulled open the sliding door and entered the passenger car. I shook my hair to right the wind-blown mess and walked coolly to my dining booth. I slid into the booth and bumped into something before I hit the wall.

Confused, I looked down to the space next to me. The golden covered "North Pole" book was next to me. Bewildered and slightly scared, I picked up the book and slid back out, after placing my book on the table. I walked up to the trash can and tossed the annoying book into it. I walked back to my booth.

The golden book was back on my table. I gasped softly and picked it up. I stalked back towards the trash can and threw it in, after checking for any other copies of this book. I saw the remains of someone's lunch on a plate and… something… else… I walked back towards my dining booth and suddenly fell down face first on the ground. I grumbled and leaped up. I looked behind me. The golden book was on the ground where my feet were a second before.

"AGH! WHY DOES THIS STUPID BOOK KEEP FOLLOWING ME?!" I shouted in annoyance. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me. I stalked over to the book and snatched it up from the floor.

"Well, if you won't stay in the trash can, maybe you'll stay outside!" I snickered as I walked towards my booth.

I slid in and opened the window. I tossed the book out and watched as it fell to the ground.

I smiled, closed the window and turned back to my table. I picked up my pen, and got a new piece of paper.

"Dear Santa," I wrote. I leaned back and thought for a minute. I turned to look into the aisle and my eyes darkened as they fell on a golden covered book.

I started to tremble with anger.

"This book is a stalker, I tell you, a STALKER!" I screeched. "Fine I will read your unimaginative text!"

I snatched up the book and opened to the first page. Instantly a pop-up appeared. It was a plain white paper pointing out towards the aisle.

I blinked in confusion and looked where it was pointing. My eyes fell on the blue book of Christmas stories. I placed down the golden book and pulled the book towards me. I picked up the golden book again and started to circle around the blue book. The arrow circled, always pointing towards the book. I got the message. I place down the golden book and picked up the blue one.

I opened the book and a folded up piece of loose-leaf fell out into my lap. I placed the book on the table and picked up the note. I unfolded it and read the note.

"Dear Matthew," The letter began. It was my mom's handwriting.

"I know you probably won't enjoy me being the bearer of bad news on your birthday, but I need to tell you something."

"Last week your father had a stroke and he's in the hospital as I write this. He probably won't recover, but he still wanted you to have his Christmas present to you. Please enjoy it, for him. Don't expect him to be here when you come home for Christmas."

"Your Loving Mom"

I blinked. My mouth was partially open in shock. I dropped the note, my hands frozen to the form of which I read it. A single tear fell down my cheek. I leaned forward and picked up my pen. I knew what to ask Santa Claus for. But before I wrote the letter, I looked over to the spot where the golden book had been.

"Thank-" I started to say, but the spot was bare, as if nothing had ever happened.

I didn't blink in surprise (surprisingly) and I turned back to my paper. The book was really weird.

I started to write my letter and then sat back to survey my work when I was done. I started to read it.

"Dear Santa,"

"This year, I don't want any special toys or games, all I want this year is…"