*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Get it for
Apple iOS.
Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2022066-The-Christmas-Longing
by brom21
Rated: E · Other · Other · #2022066
A wealthy man with no family or friends finds he is more than just ordinary.
The man was in tears as he pleaded loudly with the woman at the bank counter.

“Please! You have to help me! I realize my bad credit but I have a family and welfare and social security isn’t enough plus I’m disabled.”

“I’m very sorry sir, but even if I were to give you the loan, you’d have no way to pay it back. Pease step aside.” She said.

Everyone was listening and staring at the man who was breaking down in public. Even the visiting district chain bank manager in the back office clearly heard him.

“That man’s hysterics are going to get him arrested,” said the district bank manager.

“Do you want me to call the police than?” asked the head staff he was addressing.

“I’ll take care of it.”

He walked out of the office and stepped out from the counter.

“Sir, if I could talk to you for a minute in that corner desk.”

The man did as he was asked and sat in the front of a large black desk. The district manager got out a check and wrote on it. The man opposite him wiped his tears and took a deep breath.

“Here, this should help,” said the manager as he passed the check to the man. Immediately the begging man’s eyes widened.

“Is this a joke? Are you serious? Ten-thousand dollars?”

“That should help out. I know a good lawyer who will see you get better compensation for your needs. Just make sure you keep this to yourself,” warned the manager.

The man was about to hug the banker, but was met with hand to shake.

“Thanks so much. This is unreal!”

With those words, he ran out of the bank and down the street.

.................................... .................................... .................................. .................................... ............................. ..................................

The district manager emerged from the rotating glass door of the bank at the corner of Gold Brush Street that was covered in fallen snow. He was dressed in an impeccable black trench coat, gloves, a matching black hat and shiny dark brown shoes. He trudged through the snow with his silver plated walking cane decked with a diamond studded bulb at the top. He walked past all kinds of stores exhibiting electronics, jewelry, clothes and toys. He crossed a window displaying a video game being shown on a large plasma TV. A boy outside the store stared through a window with wanton expression. The man smiled as he wondered what it would be like to receive a gift for Christmas. He approached the child.

“Is that what you want for Christmas?”

“More than anything!” He answered the man.

“Tell me, have you been good this year?”

“Oh, yes!”

“Been obeying your parents?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your name?”

“Nick,” said the boy.

“How would you like to give your mom and dad a special present?” asked the man.

“But I have no money,“ said Nick.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” said the man. “Parents care more about how much you love them more than any gift. As soon as you get home, get a piece of paper and write a letter telling them why you love them how much you care for them.”

“Really? That’s all?” asked the child.

“It means more than you think,” said the man.

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thank you for telling me! Bye!” Nick turned around and was about to run off, then he faced the man again and asked a question.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is John.”

“Thank you John,” Nick said as he turned and sprinted down the sidewalk.

John smiled but the happiness faded as he wished he could recall getting a gift he really desired. He thought out loud in a low tone.

“I’d give anything to be that child or any child at all. Why can’t I remember? If only I could have one joyful Christmas memory. At least I’m knowledgeable enough to know about Christmas mannerism and giving.”

He closed his eyes and cringed his teeth in frustration.

“If there was someone who could help me,” John said as he relaxed.

He peered at the ground as he walked. John lifted his eyes as a cheerful look met his gaze. It was an old woman dressed in an elf suit. John quickly darted his eyes back to the ground. Then he stopped, and swung by the hanging donation pale and put in a few hundred dollar bills.

The woman was wide eyed in amazement and she exclaimed. “Wow! You’re very generous sir! God bless you.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Then he thought about her comment. God bless you. What does she mean by that? It feels so familiar yet so strange.

Then the woman called out.

“Sir, would you hand these to a couple of your friends,” she said holding out five little pamphlets with the words “The True Meaning of Christmas” on the cover.

John cordially accepted them and said goodbye.

“Certainly, nice to meet you. Goodbye.”

Soon he had reached his destination, an impressive councilor’s office where he was scheduled for an 11am appointment.

As he entered, a small tree with blue and green lights twinkled like little stars. Stars; he mused. John tilted his head and drifted off. The great lights in the heavens. What is this yearning I feel? And why do I feel such peace and comfort when I look at the sky?His thoughts were interrupted with the sound of the psychiatrist, Dr. Wind.

“John, it’s time.”

He silently followed the doctor into his office that was decked with wreaths, garlands, and snow balls. John sat in front of Dr. Wind’s desk.

“Nice to meet you. How are your Christmas plans?” he asked John.

“How would you feel if you were all alone and void of friends or family," John spewed out his words hastily with a flat tone and a stinging voice.

“I’m sorry. I just received your records today and I was hoping to go over them with you present.”

Dr. Wind cleared his throat before continuing. “John, many people have amnesia and sometimes it can take years to recover the lost memories.”

“That is what bothers me. I draw a blank when it comes to normal memories. Deep inside I feel like I belong with other of kinds people. I have this longing for something that remains a mystery,” John said.

The doctor leaned in, folded his hands and looked John square in the eyes.

“It is natural for amnesia patients to have minute senses of significant occurrences, like a wedding for example,” said Dr. Wind.

“But it is more!-so extraordinarily more!” John exclaimed.

“I’m sure it is. I see here in your records you were found disoriented in the woods wearing a latex body suit five years ago. Also, according to the records, you were named by the first Doctor you saw,” Wind put forth.

“I barely remember that, but yes that is what happened.”

The doctor stood up and walked around his desk then put his hand on John’s shoulder. “I want you to do some therapeutic writing. Sometimes it helps to recall the past. I’ll see you in a week.”

John was dejected as he spoke his last words. “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

John walked to his large estate that reminded how he came to have such wealth. He remembered it as probably one of the few happy moments he could surmise. He recalled the former district banker shaking his hand heartily as he told him he was now head manager of one of the biggest bank chains in the country.”

He went into the double oak doors and immediately went to his bed. Once again he looked at the starry heavens through his window. Again he felt that longing-as though some entity was beckoning to him from above. He soon drifted off to sleep. That night he had a strange dream. He was looking down at the Earth from a window high above, moving at incredible speed. Suddenly a human’s voice called out to him by another name.

“Curinus”

The name brought familiarity.

“It is time to come home.” Then he woke up at midnight. He heard that name he recognized, and it came from the living room.

“Curinus, Merry Christmas!”

The one now called Curinus ran out and saw what happened to be normal humans but Curinus sensed a familiarity and a peace like he had not felt in five years.

“You…you’re all like me, but what exactly are we?” Curinus begged. Then something occurred to him.

“The way I feel about you is like when I look up at the stars: that feeling of home. I’m not from Earth!-we’re not from Earth!” Curinus cried with tears in his eyes.

“I don’t understand. Why have I been left on this planet for five years and why do I lack any memory of my true home and identity?” Curinus finished.

Curinus was in tears and a female alien kin came to him and embraced him. Then Curinus wiped his eyes then put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away. A man like Curinus came forth and explained.

“Concerning the reason why you were left here, that was your decision. When we surveyed this planet and its customs, you were curious as to what it would be like to live among humankind and partake of their ways. The time of Christmas particularly fascinated you. The idea of a Son of an almighty God coming to earth as a child had a strange effect on your mind. Of course you could not be a human without the mind of a human so we had to take away all of your knowledge and recollection of your kind.”

“When will my memory return?” asked Curinus.

“All become clear as soon as you rejoin your people.”

The one who was speaking paused.

“But before we leave we want to give you something you’ve always wanted; Christmas with your true family and friends.”

With a wave of his hand, the being transformed the dreary living chamber into a Christmas utopia.

“Everything is wonderful! It’s all here in my own house: a tree with decorations, snow, wreaths hung everywhere, a manger, a roaring fire with stockings, porcelain angels, presents and even Christmas music!” said Curinus exuberantly.

Under the tree were fifteen wrapped boxes; one for each guest. Another of Curinus’s kin went under the tree and withdrew a blue striped box with a red bow and gave it to him. He tore it open and found a small orb in the box. At first he simply stared at it with bewildered eyes, and then he smiled as he recognized the object. Curinus pictured something in his mind and a holographic picture appeared out of a white flash. “A holosphere!-thank you!”

The celebration went on with everyone gleefully receiving their gifts of strange kinds. One of the visitors to Earth was full of happiness as he unwrapped a long rectangular box that revealed a magnetic hover board.

“I can’t wait until I get back home and ride this over the Crystal Lake!” said the recipient.

Another was surprised with a pair of X-ray goggles.

“Fascinating! I could use these to search for minerals in the Aterath caves or maybe to simply enjoy the intricacies of the insides of organisms.”

A female being swooned over the extremely bright glowing emerald-like stone called Ethinous.

“How beautiful! This will go perfect with my strydent jeweled necklace.”

I wish there was a gift I could give. It would have to be something very special and unique about human’s world. What on Earth is something that they can’t get anywhere but here? Oh. Of course! Curinus finished thinking.

Curinus went to an oak shelf and withdrew a book.

“This contains the tale of the heavenly son who was born on Earth. It is why the humans celebrate this time of year. It is called a Bible. There are many things that will astound you. I’m ready to go home.”

With that affirmation, all of the alien beings, including Curinus vanished in a burst of light.

Three weeks passed and “John” did not arrive at work. The first person to contact the authorities was the head staff on the corner of Gold Brush Street.

“Hello? Yes, I’d like to make a missing persons report,” the staff member said on the phone.

“The senior manager of Hathmare Banks has been absent from his job for three weeks and he remains unresponsive to any calls. My name is Trish Ross and I am the head staff here at the bank. You will? Okay, thank you.”

“I’m worried Trish. Do you think he killed himself?”

“Why would he, Rick?”

“The police are going to visit his estate, and come in by force if needed,” answered Trish.

When the police arrived at John’s house, they knocked on the door.

“This is the police, are you there John? Hello?”

Five minutes passed and they decided to us force. With a swift kick to the wooden doors, they flung open with a loud crack.

“Looks like he threw his own private party-this is baffling. Check upstairs in all rooms,” said Sergeant Brannon.

After two hours of searching, they stopped.

“I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s like he vanished into thin air with no clues as to what transpired,” said a policeman.

“Well gentlemen, our work here is done. This is an official unsolved case. Clear the premises,” ordered the sergeant.

© Copyright 2014 brom21 (ion_7 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/2022066-The-Christmas-Longing