The Prairie Bear department store was a simple cube of concrete block, massive and brutal. Inside, bright colors of artfully packaged products and gleaming gleams of reflected surfaces bounced about gaining strength and intensity. The neon visage of Barry D. Bear was occupied by two magical beings. Cousin Get reclined across the top of the What’s in Store for You? slogan while Cousin Give perched between the ears. Grandfather Nick impatiently paced from the snow machines to the jewelry counter and back again drawing the interest of the plainclothes Loss Prevention team. Aunt Candle had scattered to the back of the store. With a whoosh, Johnny blew in like a blizzard and drifted to a stop.
“There it is at last,” said Johnny to no one in particular (which was good because no one in particular was listening). He strode purposefully towards the largest snow blower –and right past to the jewelry counter.
“Hi Mr. Johnson!” said a sales associate. She bubbled and fizzed like a glass of champagne.
“Hello, Carolynn. I’m here to buy the Snowflake Earrings for my wife.”
“Oh, I’m sorry but I just sold the last pair a few minutes ago.”
“Sold them? You knew that I wanted them. How could you?”
“It’s my job, sir. The gentleman was very specific on that exact item. But truthfully, Mr. Johnson, those pieces are overdone and overpriced. Elegant simplicity, now that’s what a gal really appreciates. Gold has a timeless quality…”
Taking charge, Carolynn expertly guided him through this choice and that as she explained why one stone was better than another. They finally settled on gold Reindeer Earrings featuring sapphire eyes and a ruby nose. Johnny had let himself be convinced that these were the ones truly meant for his wife and he fully believed it –for nearly a full minute.
Nick watched from behind a magazine and at the right moment reached into the human with a tendril of consciousness. He rubbed up against something human, an ambiguity attractive and elusive, faintly familiar. The desire to give was there, that was good, but also a wisp of panic with the thought: What if she hates reindeer? Another present just in case. Nick had little use for subtlety; he believed that if a little of something was good then a lot of was even better. A small push would call forth the answer he craved. He caught Give’s eye and motioned him inside Johnny.
The store’s loudspeakers blared. “Take flight with Santa’s Car Wax Special! Only eight bucks!” Sleigh bells jingled.
Johnny suddenly felt as delicate as a snowflake then as thick as slush. Give settled into a corner of his brain and whispered “It’s the thought that counts.”
After careful consideration, Johnny chose a box labeled Hat/Scarf/Gloves. Feeling good, feeling generous, he looked for a way to spread more holiday cheer. That’s when he spotted a portable backpack Karoke machine with headset microphone for extreme caroling. Who doesn’t like to hear more Christmas music? Slipping it on, Johnny commandeered an empty cart and hunted up more gifts.
Stuffing the magazine into his pocket, Nick followed. So much for giving he thought. Now for the getting. Bells trilled. Give went out and Get came in.
Through Johnny’s eyes, Get looked at the cart and saw a paltry haul. His dissatisfaction merged with Johnny’s mild longing for something different. At the big screen TVs, a golf match captured imagination and desire. Get persuaded Johnny that he’d easily win the U.S. Open (even though previous experience was limited to Goony Golf). Into the cart went clubs and balls, shoes and shirts and caps with amusing tassels. Technique is overrated; with enough stuff you’ve got the right stuff to master any sport at all. Fishing lures! Pretty colors, floppy dangles and dangerous names. Swim fins, goggles and a spear gun. A snowboard! All went in.
Johnny smiled and the part of Nick that was inside of him smiled too. Now we’re getting somewhere. Something was forming in the fog, a red glow lighting the way.
Aunt Candle floated by mesmerizing Johnny and catching him like a snowflake on a tongue. Lights on trees! Displays that flash! Bright Shiny Objects everywhere! Johnny happily wallowed in the blinking colors and mechanical contraptions and busily wound strings of lights around the cart.
“Stop it, Candle!” said Get.
“Egotistical selfish gnome! I want some fun too!” She glared back and pushed.
Later, everyone agreed that this was the exact moment that Grandfather Nick lost control of the situation. With half-a-mind inside Johnny and the other half dealing with fractious magical beings, he failed to notice the Loss Prevention team following his physical manifestation through the store. So when Nick sprang towards Johnny yelling “Stop it you idiots!” Loss Prevention tackled Nick and crashed into the pyramid of silver bells. In the commotion, Get tumbled out and Give dashed in. Nick hung on with the tenacity of tinsel. Oblivious to the struggle behind him, Johnny pressed on.
“Toys for good girls and boys!”
He raced his cart down the aisles sweeping shelves. Model rockets. Tiny lockets. Trucks and diggers. Action figures. A drum to bash; cymbals crash!
Get body-checked Give spinning the sprite out and spinning the human into Hardware. One for you and two for me! Handsaws and hammers, pliers and spanners. Cables and switches, hinges and hitches. Rollers and brushes, faucets and fasteners. All lashed by a hose tied up in bow. Atop the wobbly tower, a police-light flashed and spun as Candle twirled above like a demented angel. The cart sagged, threatened to burst apart.
Johnny hitched the heavy cart to a self-propelled battery-hybrid snow blower and pushed forward. The overloaded cart veered into another cart, a plastic candy cane hooked and dragged it along in a bizarre train of consumer goods.
Nick reached deep into Johnny’s heart. Is it better to give or receive? No answer came back. Frustrated, he sent a message of encouragement to his grandsons. “Let’s settle this!”
Give thrust Get out. “Oh no you don’t!” growled Get and jumped back in landing hard with both metaphorical feet. Twelve cash registers rang out Jingle Bells and a thousand fluorescent lights flickered on and off. Speakers squealed, heard on high. The battle was on.
Give and Get warred fiercely inside Johnny and pushed him to one side of his own mind while Nick screamed “More! More! More!” The two spirits wrestled for supremacy as Get stole control from Give who promptly took it back. Each spirit threw commands at the mortal with increasing intensity. Johnny struggled to obey his conflicting urges and zigzagged across the floor. He believed in magic now –and magical beings.
“Give in!” said Get. “Get out!” said Give. “He’s mine!” shouted both cousins.
Into the chaos, battery-operated helicopters took to the air while mechanical dinosaurs marched about. Power tools whirred, cell phones purred and TV’s blurred then broadcast Johnny’s one man parade on 25 screens. The cacophony blared louder, the lights flicked faster, and the cash registers had a mind of their own. Men swore, women screamed and little kids cried.
Johnny’s brain whirled and his body twirled in a circle as images rushed past his eyes. Things intermixed with people. Memories slid into dreams. Feelings slammed into each other. Then Carolynn’s voice found him in the whirlpool and extended a strand of reality that he gratefully clung to and climbed up.
“Mr. Johnnyson? Would you like to buy your wife’s earrings now? Cash or credit?” A beautifully wrapped package with an intricate white bow. Johnny could concentrate on that. He could do this. He pulled out his bundled cash and looked up at the teetering carts and the pandemonium surrounding him.
“NO!” he cried and the store fell silent and still.
Quietly then, “Thank you.”
He stripped off the karaoke backpack and quickly trotted out leaving behind mounds of merchandise, a chagrined sales associate and two magical beings mutely watching from atop the Prairie Bear sign –hands still around each other’s necks. Nick quietly vanished from the grasp of Loss Prevention and Candle faded out. Subdued, the shocked crowd of shoppers watched him go and th
en, as one, resumed shopping to the steady tune of cash registers.