Indecent
Intruder
by Jamie Dyson
A savage wind
whipped sleet against the window of Barry’s
bedroom, howling and groaning through the gaps in
his walls. He couldn’t sleep with such noise
going on and besides, in only a few hours’
time Christmas Day would be here and he didn’t
want to miss the chance to see Santa delivering
all the wonderful gifts requested on his
Christmas list. Sitting upright in his bed, Barry
pondered on how the big man would get into the
living room, with there being no chimney for
Santa utilise. He certainly wouldn’t be able
to slide in through the air conditioning unit or
the radiators, would he? Was Santa capable of
osmosis perhaps? Maybe he just had a master key
and would let himself in through the back gate
the same way Barry did.
These
questions bounced around Barry’s head as he
stared out of the window, wishing the sleet would
turn into snow. He would have loved to make a
snowman, a friend. The wind was becoming ever
more violent and the groans Barry could hear were
being accompanied by loud, repetitive bangs. It
almost sounded like he could hear shouts and
screams, but he just put this down to his over
active imagination.
There was
nothing else for it, Barry had waited long enough.
It was time to go wake up mom and dad.
Swinging his
legs out of bed and attempting to squeeze his
feet into reindeer slippers that were now far too
small for him, Barry began to patter slowly
towards his parents’ bedroom door. With each
tip-toed step, the strange sounds created by the
wind outside began to get louder and louder
– Groan! Shout! Bang! All of the noises
simply stiffened Barry’s resolve and
convinced him that waking up mom and dad was
definitely the right thing to do.
He reached out
his pyjama covered arm and silently turned the
handle, with only the slightest creak being made
as the door sneaked open. Suddenly the groans,
shouts and bangs became deafening, as Barry
looked up and saw his mother lay on her back on
the bed, with a man dressed in red and white
bouncing up and down on top of her.
“Mom…?
Santa…? What are you doing to mom, Santa?”
He cried out, dropping his comfort blanket to the
floor.
The two on the
bed stopped what they were doing immediately, the
man turning his red, angry face towards Barry. It
was Barry’s elderly father dressed in a
Santa costume. Distraught, tears began to well up
in Barry’s eyes.
“Damn it
Barry!” His mother raged. “I’m
going to take that spare key off you once and for
all! You’ve got to stop getting so drunk and
letting yourself in our house. You’re thirty
two years old! Get home to your wife and we’ll
see you for dinner tomorrow.”
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