*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1392138-Carol-singing
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1392138
This year's rounds would be remembered to their graves....
                                              PROLOGUE

"Where are we going?" asked the little boy.

"It's a birthday surprise," whispered the woman sitting beside him.

She was constantly checking her watch. Her moment of joy was closing in. There weren’t many people on the roads in the shopping district at a little past noon. The fewer, the better, she thought.

  As she drove from one errand to the next, time was constantly on her mind. Finally, she thought as she spied the clock: 12:55 pm. It was time.

"Would you like an ice cream?" she asked the kid, cuddling him.

"Oh, yes," he exclaimed. "I'd love one."

"What flavour?"

"Strawberry." He smacked his lips, "It's my favourite!"

She parked the car at a fair distance from the ice cream parlour.

"Well...you stay in the car," she said. "Don't get out, okay?"

Jason nodded. She kissed his forehead and walked toward the ice cream parlor. Mrs. Strauss glanced at her watch one last time: less than a minute remained. She went through the menu card and waited. Her anxiety grew as each second ticked by…tick…tick…tick…she counted every one as Jason watched for her to return…tick…tick…tick…and while the boy was looking out of the car window, time suddenly ran out. The clock struck one and the car exploded in flames...


                                  **********************************
 



It was the day before Christmas Eve. The youth of the St. Lucia Chapel set out for their carol rounds at sharply 8 pm since they had to sing at many places that night. Inside their minibus, a group of girls were practicing a rather difficult song, the twin girls were looking out of the window, and six boys from Church School lounged over the back seats, arguing loudly about which of them was the best singer among them. One of them was dressed as Santa Claus. Everyone seemed to be of the same age, everyone - except their troop leader. Mr. Moss was 42 years old. He had a thick mustache, brown eyes and broad shoulders. All in all, he appeared very gentle. He sat directly behind the driver seat. A guitar lay beside him...

Everything went well. They didn't bother about time since they knew they'd have to sing past midnight. They sang cheerfully at every house, relishing every food item they were given and enjoying their travel in the minibus. It seemed to go on and on. Mr. Moss' fingers grew weak from continuous guitar playing and the teens' throats felt they could use some rest. Suddenly, without warning, the bus came to a stop and almost everyone jerked. Mr. Moss checked his watch. It showed 12:24 AM. He looked out of the window at the large mansion. Not even a single light was turned on inside, as far as he could see through the windows. Normal, he thought, at this hour

"Our last house for today, dears", said he adjusting his tweed suit. "Let's go"

Everyone got down from the bus and stared at the mansion. One disadvantage about late night carol singing is, if the people in the house have fallen asleep, it takes an awful lot of time to wake them up and it isn't a pleasant feeling singing in front of a closed door you are not sure it will open. The troop had the same feeling as they stared at the dark mansion.

Mr. Moss turned back to face the troop. "Ah, just one thing for you to remember: Mrs. Strauss is ...well, a bit unfriendly and she can be awfully short-tempered. So, all I want to say is that mind what you do around her."

"I do wish someone would open the door," said a blond boy rubbing his eyes "This house makes me feel even more sleepy."

"Of course she will and she also gives a huge offering. You had better remember what I said earlier."

They made their way towards the house. It was a long walk from the gate. Now that they were nearer, it appeared even larger.

"She must be rich," said Tina, one of the twins.

"Very," said Mr. Moss. "Very rich. Her husband owns an automobile company. He earns and she spends. That's the rule."

Everyone took their positions and Mr. Moss lifted his guitar. "Let's begin with Joy to the Worl and remember to take care of the pitch!" He seemed to be more interested in the pitch than playing the guitar. And they were midway through O! come when the door creaked open.

"Now that was quick," said Ben from beneath his Santa beard.

The house, however, remained shrouded in darkness. In the doorway stood a young boy of seven or eight years, staring out with desolate eyes.

"Hello!" greeted Mr. Moss "Where's your mother?"

"They've gone out," muttered the boy.

"Doesn't matter," said Mr. Moss, trying to hide his disappointment. "What were we singing?"

Before anyone could answer, the boy invited, "Come in."

It was pitch dark inside.

"Well..now..what's your name? Erm, where are you anyway? I can't see a thing," said Mr. Moss.

"I'm Jason." His footsteps moved quickly away from them.

"Hey, Jason. How come they left you all alone in the house?" frowned Mr. Moss. " And actually, they knew we are coming tonight. How come they missed us?"

"I don't know," came the reply.

"And why is it so dark in here?"

"I don't like.....light."

Suddenly the room was flooded with light. Jason was standing at the switch board, his head facing down. He was indeed very young.  But it was actually the room that caught their attention more than Jason. They were in a living room in which everything, from the divan to the wall paintings was ornately decorated. There were many shades of gold and maroon which were dazzling. The divan particularly had ornate carvings and had a maroon cushion that made it appear majestic. A marble staircase left the room at the farther end into the spacious heights of the mansion.  They just stood there, appreciating the luster of everything in that room.

"Please sit down. I'll bring something to eat." muttered Jason as ran from the room.

That was good news indeed and they eagerly waited for him who returned, a minute later, with two plates-his fingers trembling as he placed the plates on the table.

"That was so nice of you, Jason." Remarked Mr. Moss. "Thanks."

Even though Mr. Moss reminded them that it's not good manners to eat more, they had a good munch on the chocolate cake which was just delicious and the plates were empty within seconds. They were so busy eating they didn't notice the boy leaving the room again. This time probably because he didn't say anything before leaving.

"Something's odd around here" whispered Ben "I don't know whether we should talk, I don't know whether we should sing and then this boy...so very odd. He doesn't even seem to notice that I'm Santa."

They nodded in agreement. A moment later, Jason reappeared. He stretched his right hand in front of him and they knew at once what he meant. Mr. Moss held up the offering pouch and Jason dropped a $100 bill into it. He quickly retreated and sat in a nearby chair. They had a very dry talk after that which were mostly 'yes' or 'no' questions and for which Jason was too happy to just nod or shake his head.

And finally Mr. Moss was happy to say, " Well, we'll take leave then." Jason nodded.

"Come on everyone," Mr. Moss said. "And may God bless you Jason."

Jason smiled and whispered, "Bye."

As they moved out of the house Jason closed the door behind them. At that precise moment a car pulled up the driveway. It stopped right before them and both Mr and Mrs. Strauss stepped out, not believing her own eyes as she saw the carol troop.

"Oh my madness! I couldn't believe I've missed you for the fifth time," she said. " It just slipped out of my mind."

"Hello Gloria! Good to see you, even though in the end!" said Mr. Moss.

"Oh..you know Rebecca, don't you Glendon? She invited us for her birthday party and I just forgot you'd be coming today."

"Not to worry. Jason took good care of us, though I was rather surprised he was home alone."

"I'm sorry, did you just say Jason?!"

"Of course, your son."

"What rubbish....you must be out of your mind, you really are."

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Glendon Moss, do you remember attending a funeral five years ago?" she asked furiously.

"Er...I think yes...faintly..."

"It was Jason's funeral."

"WHAT!" every one from the troop gasped.

"Jason is dead, you fool. And there is no one in the house."

Mr. Moss turned back. The lights in the living room were off.






                                                    EPILOGUE

Gloria Strauss rushed to her bedroom. Her mind erupted with thoughts. What she just heard from the carollers couldn't be true. How could Jason be alive? How could he ever be alive when it was she herself who killed him? They must be imagining things. Yes, she thought, they've had a hallucination. By and by, she checked each and every room on her way to her bedroom for any trace of movement. Nothing

Jason wasn't her own son. He was the son of Michael Strauss's late wife. He'd been living with them ever since his mother died. And Gloria Strauss was too disturbed by his presence. She wanted Michael's property all to herself; that was the main reason she married him. but now, this boy called Jason was in her way. He should be cleared from my way, she thought. On his next birthday, she killed him with a time bomb that she acquired from her brother-in-law.

Gloria bolted the bedroom door behind her. As she turned around to face the room, the lights went off. She was covered in darkness. She could see nothing and tried to grope her way towards the bed.Then she saw him. He was pearly white. A white glow was emanating from his translucent body. Gloria felt a chill run down her spine as she noticed that he was actually floating in mid air.

"JJJJJason," she whimpered.

He nodded and slowly lifted the dagger his right hand. Gloria tried to scream but she couldn't. Something deep inside was pressing her.

"Please don't kill me. I was a good mother, wasn't I?"

She was struck with horror; Jason's face was ferocious.

"You killed me," he yelled. "Say your final prayers." He glided slowly towards her. 











© Copyright 2008 Uday Kanth (uday at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1392138-Carol-singing