Boxing Day
The boxing gloves were tied together at the laces and draped around M’s neck. They looked silly and out of proportion with his little body. He stood at her front door shivering. The snowflakes dusting his raven black hair. It was the day after Christmas. He was on winter break from Paullina Elementary school. She answered the door brooding and with an air of cynicism that was far beyond her nine years of age. M beamed at her with his bright glinting eyes.
“Hello Thursday.”
“Walk with me to my mail box.”
“Could I just wait right inside by the door? I walked all the way here from my house and I’m kind of cold.” She just closed her front door and walked towards the mail. M dashed along behind her, trying to catch up. The boxing gloves bounced up and down against his chest as he walked. He noticed the red velveteen dress she was wearing. It glimmered as she moved between the flurry of snowflakes. Her dark brown hair was pulled back and tied with a ribbon. “You look very pretty today Thursday. I mean, you always look pretty, but you look very pretty today. I gotta say though, you’re a little over dressed for the occasion. You didn’t have to get all dolled up just because I was coming over this afternoon.” They had reached the mailbox by now. She opened it up and looked inside. M milled around beside her on the curb, shuffling his feet in the slush.
“I didn’t get ‘all dolled up’ just because you were coming over.” She pulled a brown package out of the mailbox and then started walking towards her front door. Again M dashed after her, trying to keep up. “My mom got me this dress for Christmas and it was so pretty and I looked so good in it that I couldn’t wait to wear it.”
“Is that package for you Thursday? Did one of your relatives that lives in another state send it to you as a late Christmas present?” They were standing on the front stoop, but Thursday didn’t open the door, she stood for a moment staring at M.
“Why do you have those boxing gloves?” She asked him.
They were up in her bedroom as she sat Indian style on the floor, and tore open the brown paper that was wrapped around her package. M leaned against the wall, by her door. Although M lived in the same neighborhood as her and they had been enrolled in the same third grade class together at Paullina Elementary School for the past few months, he had never seen her room. It had wood paneled flooring with a black rug. On one wall there was a picture she had drawn with a black magic marker. It was of a ghost in a cemetery rising up from a tombstone in the shape of a cross. On the other wall was a poster of an animal M didn’t recognize.
“Thursday, what’s that animal in that poster on your wall?”
She continued to dig through the inside of her package and answered him. “It’s a raccoon.”
“It looks sad.”
“I know. . . Is this all?” She asked as she looked deeper into the brown paper sack. “This is the worst Christmas present he’s ever sent me.” She pulled out an American flag, folded neatly and properly like a paper football, with a note and a photograph placed on top. She shook the flag loose, and held it away from her like a soiled garment as she examined it, then she tossed it on the floor. “That’s the worst Christmas present ever.” She looked at the photograph. It was her brother, a thin gangly boy. Thursday thought he looked even thinner when the United States Military made him cut his hair. In the picture he’s standing in a desert. He’s holding a canteen high above his head, his neck is cocked back and his mouth is wide open, as the water falls onto his face and dribbles down his cheeks and chin. His upraised arm exposes a big moist circle of sweat absorbed into his beige t-shirt in the area around his armpit.
“He looks like such an idiot standing there in that stupid desert. He must be an idiot if he thought I would like an American flag as a Christmas present.”
“Maybe that American flag was flown in the desert he was at.”
“If I wanted an American flag, I would have stolen the one in Mrs. Holland’s classroom.”
“You should do it anyway, that way we wouldn’t have to say the pledge of allegiance in the morning.”
“What are you doing here M? Why don’t you go home?”
“I wanted to give you your Christmas present, remember? I’ll leave as so as I give it to you.” His dark brown eyes glinted with even more excitement. “Hold out your hand.” She did so. He reached into his pocket and dug around. “Close your eyes, and don’t open them until I say.” She did, and sighed heavily, indicating that she was humoring him. M placed her Christmas present in her hand and beamed as he waited to see her facial expression. “Okay you can open them.”
“What’s this? A paper clip, a stick of juicy fruit chewing gum, a chipped marble, a rubber band and a bottle cap.”
“A root beer bottle cap.”
“A root beer bottle cap,” She repeated, dead pan and sarcastic.
“Yep, merry Christmas!”
“Oh, okay, thanks for my Christmas present M. I think it’s time for you to go.”
“Thursday, you shouldn’t leave that American flag on the floor. It’s disrespectful.”
“Get out of my house M.”
She was holding the front door open, but he didn’t leave, and she didn’t quite want him to leave yet. They stood there in the cold air as the snowflakes blew in and quickly melted on the carpet.
“Hey, M,” she said, “You never answered me. Why do you have those boxing gloves?”
“Because today is boxing day.”
“What’s boxing day?”
“They celebrate it in Canada.” M said. He exited from her house and trudged through the snow. While his back was turned Thursday stepped onto the front stoop. She dug up and handful of snow and packed it into a tight ball. She took dead aim and winged it at him when he had reached the mid point of her driveway.
It hit hard against the back of his head, caking his hair and scalp. He immediately ducked slightly and placed his hand on his head. He stopped and turned back to her apprehensively as he brushed off the snow.
“Ow, Thursday. That hurt.”
“Shut up, you little baby. There are things that hurt a lot more than snowballs. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“What are you talking about Thursday?”
“Happy Boxing day M.” And with that, Thursday went in her house and shut the door behind her.