Two more sleeps until Christmas.
I thought I was done with writing Christmas stories for this season but I managed to pen a new one since posting SEVEN FEET OF SNOW IN BUFFALO. This story is a sequel to the one I wrote and debuted last year around this time, A VERY QUIET CHRISTMAS PLAN. Do yourself a favour and read that one first. My new story features the two characters of Philip and his dog Carnival Barker. I had this idea running around in my brain and realized it would be a decent story for those characters. It’s not the best Christmas story I’ve ever written but I think it’ll offer some entertainment.
Before I present the story, I’ll post some photos of my lawn display and some photos of my Christmas Tree, my Nutcrackers, and my mantle display.
Don’t forget to click on the images for a larger view. And now for the story. Enjoy!
THE XMAS DIP
by
Scott Henderson
Philip stared at the sign-up sheet for the staff Christmas Party which was mainly just a glorified potluck where everyone stood around with paper cups and paper plates and paper hats and paste-on smiles that made Philip feel like everyone obviously wished to be somewhere else other than the staff Christmas Party. Well, that was how Philip felt and with the only slot open on the sheet next to ‘Xmas Dip’ he felt like he’d rather be anywhere else other than standing there with pen in hand realizing he’d left it too late and was stuck bringing ‘Xmas Dip’; whatever the hell that was.
“What the hell is Xmas Dip anyhow?” he said aloud to the sign-up sheet. There was no response. If there had been a response, it would have said something along the line of “what do you want from me, I’m just a signup sheet after all, and it was you that left everything to the last minute.”
It was true, he had left it to the last minute but in his mind he’d had some really good excuses like he didn’t really want to go to the Christmas Party or everyone else was already signing up just when he was getting his mind around to thinking about signing up, or why bother to sign up because all the good stuff will be taken and he’d be stuck bringing something everyone else clearly didn’t want to opt to bring…such as Xmas Dip and that had to be the last thing anyone else wanted to bring or else they too had no clue what it was. Philip sighed.
“Why couldn’t it be like last year when we didn’t have a Christmas Party?” he asked aloud again but to nothing in particular. The conversation with the signup sheet had been all one-sided and had gotten him nowhere.
Of course Philip knew the answer to that. Last year there had been a Christmas Party but they had called it a Christmas Gift Exchange or Secret Santa or something else that sounded festive unless you tacked on an expletive in the front and that just about summed up how he had felt about the whole thing and more so about this new Party thing and the mysterious Xmas Dip that made his head swim. And maybe that’s what it was, he thought, a glorified swim where’d have to strip down and plunge into cold water and yet that sounded even more appealing than standing around with the paper cups and paper ad infinitum rot.
He took a long breath in, exhaled, and then scrawled his name in the last open slot on the sheet. It didn’t make him feel any less uneasy now that he’d accomplished it. All he knew was he had to figure out what this thing was he was supposed to bring and whether it required him to make it or if he could get away with purchasing it somewhere. He hoped for the latter.
Philip thought back on last year’s gift exchange and how poorly that had gone for him. He had drawn the name of someone he had not known well and even less well when it came to deciding what gift to purchase for that person. Sheila. Who was Sheila he had asked himself and then had to ask of others because he’d drawn a blank and then thought to himself that he wished he had drawn a blank…piece of paper that is, for all the effort he wanted to put into the exchange. In the end, Philip did exactly what others did who really didn’t want to put much thought into it.
There had been a limit of twenty dollars and that still didn’t narrow things down for Philip so he took a chance that perhaps Sheila liked coffee or at least would like the twenty dollar coffee shop gift card he decided on at the last minute. It was for a national chain he’d seen on a number of cups on people’s desks or overflowing the garbage can in the break room. Maybe Sheila was one of those who liked that coffee and a guess was more than he could make out on his own with the little he knew of the recipient whose name he had chosen.
More than half of the employees had received coffee gift cards. Philip was not exempt. His had been to a coffee boutique and that experience had set him off and he felt like the whole Christmastime and yule whatever was wasted on him and he just wanted to have a quiet Christmas that had no rules and no bodies. It was about all he thought he could stand without going overboard like wearing a paper hat and balancing a paper plate on your lap with a paper thin smile and yet he had to seem grateful for the coffee shop gift card he received and look as if he cared when Sheila opened the one he had purchased for her.
Thinking on all of it, Philip could see how anyone who didn’t really know him or maybe did know him, and there weren’t a lot of those, and truth be told if there was a sign-up sheet to list off people who really did know him, there’d be a lot of blanks that would never be filled and all of those would think that Philip just wasn’t that in to Christmas. Philip knew himself better than anyone possibly could and even he could see that was the definite impression he was giving off; whether he meant to or not. And Philip wasn’t even sure himself if that was his intention.
It really did start with the previous Christmas and how miserable he had been feeling and finding himself at a gift exchange congregation that wasn’t billed as a Christmas party and how it all left him totally uneasy when it came to social interactions. Philip worked in IT and that was about as in the background as you could get in a company like the one where he worked. He wasn’t like the other man-childs like Kenny or Jimmy or Dave-O who had cute nicknames and took nothing seriously except IT and then complained the loudest among themselves when anyone else did not take IT as seriously as they did.
The man-childs were always the fun ones at any gathering because they had the best jokes and the best stories and Philip felt like he paled by comparison. He wasn’t good at jokes and seldom remembered the punchlines and he didn’t have humorous anecdotes or interesting stories and he didn’t like to make IT jokes about other employees at their expense like Kenny, Jimmy or Dave-O.
Thinking about it, though, Philip did have an interesting story but the telling of it last year would have made him seem pathetic or lonely or a number of other sad adjectives that clearly defined him but he didn’t care to admit to. He could have told about his girlfriend Margo and how she had followed him home form the park one day and then left him months later on a mission of self-discovery and inexplicably took Carnival Barker. He could have told as well about Carnival Barker, his dog, who had also followed him home one day and gained his name because he barked incessantly like a circus rowdy enticing people to crooked games or flamboyant shows of wild men of Borneo or seven-veiled women who danced the hoochie coochie; a dance just as mysterious as the Xmas Dip Philip had now committed to bringing. And because no one really knew Philip, they didn’t get to hear that story about how sad he’d been feeling last Christmas and that he wasn’t really missing Margo but would have given anything to wake up on December 25th to the sounds of Carnival Barker extolling the virtues of Christmas morning.
Oh yes, and there had also been that turkey raffle that had disturbed all his plans for a very quiet Christmas but that was another story altogether and no one had been able to attend his last minute gathering and Christmas Eve had turned out to be quiet in spite of his efforts to work the fresh not frozen turkey he had won into something even better than a gift exchange with paper hats. The specialty shop coffee card had further added to his overall dismal feeling when he finally got around to visiting the store on the last day before it had closed for the holidays and he paid dearly for overpriced exotic coffee and was disturbed by the artisan baked dog biscuits at the counter that enticed owners to visit the shop with their pets in tow and he knew Carnival Barker would have enjoyed one but the dog was off somewhere with Margo and Christmas for Philip had not been looking merry and bright.
He could have told that story because it was certainly interesting but it had been an unfinished story and he didn’t know at the time it would have a happy ending with Margo returning with Carnival Barker on Christmas Day. It had an even more happier ending when Margo left in the new year and Carnival Barker stayed. There was nothing however that would prevent Philip from telling that story this time around except that in reflection it probably wouldn’t be all that interesting to anyone else.
This year, it was just Philip and Carnival Barker and another very quiet Christmas plan that would be preceded by a staff Christmas Party with Xmas Dip. Philip pulled out his phone and dictated a reminder for himself after work to research Xmas Dip. Maybe he could work that into a humorous story he could tell to others but imagined the man-childs would probably have more entertaining tales of other employees who couldn’t print over the network and when Jimmy or Kenny or Dave-O finally got around to resolving their issue, the printer would ultimately jam under the stress of numerous copies of the same document because the employee had kept pressing ‘print’ over and over again in a futile effort to complete their task. The inside joke among the IT crowd was that those errors were not caused by the hardware or the software but by ‘user interface.’ That was a sly poke at the employee who always lost the battle in employee vs. machine.
After work, Philip did his best to decipher the enigma of Xmas Dip. It did not go well. Search engine results ran the gamut between vegetable, meat, and dessert dips layered or unlayered with or without sour cream, whip cream, dairy substitute, faux meats, real meats and sundry vegetarian options. There were even photos that weren’t clear and when Philip clicked on them, he invariably went down a rabbit hole of ingredients, preparation steps, cooking times, chilling times, and tests for doneness depending on how gelatinous or not the maker cared to make it.
“Does this look good to you?” Philip found himself asking of Carnival Barker. The dog did not live up to his name and remained silent while he stared at his owner contemplating images on the screen in which the pooch had no interest. He was after all, a dog who knew nothing of computers but if he did, he’d shake his head, whine, and chalk up his owner’s indecisiveness to problems of user interface.
Philip selected a link labelled ‘Xmas Dip On Xmas Day’ and was surprised by a video of Nordic participants plunging into icy waters; with or without Santa hats. Philip felt affirmed that at least one of his thoughts regarding Xmas Dip had held some truth.
“How about this one?” he asked again of the dog.
This time Carnival Barker gave out with a yelp, not because he understood what he was seeing but the audio was loud enough that he could distinctly hear the baying of other dogs either participating in the event or signaling to their masters and mistresses that dry land was a good deal more suitable and significantly and preferably warmer.
“You’re a lot of help, Carnival Barker. I don’t think this is what the sign-up sheet called for. Besides, I don’t think I’d look all that good in a speedo at the Christmas Party looking for a body of water and having to settle for drenching myself with paper cups filled from the water cooler.” Philip began to laugh at his joke. He’d have to remember that one. Maybe he’d have something to tell if he found a lull in the conversation with the man-childs.
Philip closed his eyes and poked a finger at a screen full of photos and followed through to a directions page for White Cheddar Cranberry Dip described as “a salty, sweet, and festive dip!” It further exclaimed “It’s great for a holiday party or a tasty snack.”
“Holiday party. I guess that’s it boy!”
At this, Carnival Barker began to yap; signally only that he had to go outside to do his business and no reflection intended on Philip’s selection.
The day of the Christmas Party was not as bad as Philip had dreaded. It was slightly worse.
First, his Xmas Dip didn’t work out as well as he had hoped. This time it was not User Interface but rather Canine Interference. The instructions had been fairly easy and very clear when directing him to prepare and assemble the dip as written. It had also directed him to cover and refrigerate for up to one day. That was fine with Philip because it meant he could leave it to the last minute or day before and could pull it out the morning of the party. Unfortunately, Philip did not factor in Carnival Barker and a moment of unguarded supervision when the dog expressed his satisfaction with Philip’s efforts on the dip by wolfing it down and licking the bowl clean.
Second, Philip had to leave for work early so he could stop off at the supermarket and find a pre-packaged dip. The selection was minimal and he had to settle for two plastic containers; one dill flavored and one with chives. Neither looked very festive and he was sure he’d be accused of making little or no effort. He didn’t think telling everyone the dog ate his assignment would be convincing.
For the rest of the party, the man-childs monopolized most of the conversations or poked fun at others and their computer expertise or lack thereof. There were even some comments about food items brought by others to the party and inevitably some jibes about the store-bought Xmas Dip.
Philip wanted to defend himself and lay blame at Carnival Barker but instead decided a better distraction would be to offer up one of the results of his Internet search.
“Did you know that Xmas Dip also refers to cold water plunging in countries like Sweden, Switzerland, and Norway?” Philip finally had something interesting to offer.
“Like a polar dip?” Jimmy asked.
“Have you ever done it Phil?” Kenny followed.
“Wouldn’t catch me doing it,” Dave-O chimed in. “I don’t care to get frostbite in my nether regions.”
“I might do it,” Philip quickly offered, “if I don’t have anything better to do on Christmas Day.” He quickly regretted it after he’d said it.
“That sure would be something,” Jimmy piped up.
“What a story you’d have to tell,” Kenny added.
“Wouldn’t catch me doing it,” Dave-O concluded. He added the part again about frostbite in his nether bits.
“We’ll see,” Philip said. “I’ll have to see how it fits in with my plans.” He didn’t continue to explain about his plans which weren’t any kinds of plans except the very quiet Christmas type. He slunk off quietly from the man-childs and decided to leave the party early. No one noticed. He left his containers of Xmas Dip for any and all takers. He didn’t think there would be many and that more likely than not they’d end up in the trash with all the paper garbage. Those Xmas Dips and the one consumed by Carnival Barker would not be stored as future Christmas memories.
On Christmas Day, Philip cooked a turkey with all of the trimmings. He ate early and made sure he set a place for Carnival Barker at the table. He left the dishes to soak in the sink and instead of a nap, decided to take his dog for a long after-dinner walk. This was the quiet Christmas plan he’d had in mind.
In addition to his quiet Christmas plans, Philip had also been thinking long and hard about his conversation at the Christmas Party with the man-childs regarding his non-committal committal to a Christmas Day Xmas Dip; not of the edible kind. The Nordic themed plunge hadn’t been anything he’d intended to do and yet he’d left it hanging and wasn’t sure that after the Christmas break Jimmy or Kenny or Dave-O might not seek him out and ask him details of his adventure. What would they say if he didn’t follow through? Could he bluff an interesting highly invented story? He wasn’t good with stories to begin with and lying had never been his strong suit.
In Philip’s mind there were many good and rational reasons why he should avoid freezing cold water and nothing that suggested it was a good idea. Maybe that’s why Philip kept thinking on it. He’d penned his name in the empty spot next to Xmas Dip on that sheet at the office and in Philip’s mind it meant he was pledged to follow through on his obligation. Nowhere had that paper detailed Xmas Dip as an edible product. It could just as well have been referring to an action instead of a noun describing a festive dish homemade or store purchased. He’d failed in one aspect so shouldn’t he try to succeed in the other?
On Christmas Eve there were no sugarplums dancing in Philip’s head nor the myriad of things associated with his and Carnival Barker’s dinner plans. Instead, he dreamt fitfully of sub-zero water calling to him and Jimmy, Kenny, and Dave-O daring him on.
Philip tried to push the Xmas Dip swim aside while he prepared Christmas dinner but the thoughts lingered around the edge and when he added ice to his glass of liqueur served with his turkey, he found himself staring intently at his libation and wondering.
After dinner he grabbed up Carnival Barker’s leash and pulled on his toque and gloves. The dog saw something bulging in the deep pockets of Philip’s parka but thought little of it. Dogs don’t wonder much about pockets and if they do it’s with curiosity whether said pockets held dog treats or biscuits…not necessarily of the specialty coffee boutique variety.
Philip would often walk out to the park with man’s best friend. It had been the sight of their first meeting. Philip had walked around the lake in the center of the park and come across Carnival Barker sprawled out underneath a tree. Philip had given little thought to the dog other than it was off leash and somewhere there was an irresponsible owner. He’d hardly glanced at the dog as he passed and didn’t look back the whole way home or he would have discovered the hound following him. Dogs might not ponder on computer recipes or the contents of pockets but it was clear that they gave great thought to potential new custodians.
Carnival Barker had come into Philip’s life and stayed; except when he went sojourning with Margo. Philip’s ex female friend and his ex, but long longed for, furry friend had returned to him the previous Christmas. But that was another story and Philip’s thoughts were on this current Christmas and the Xmas Dip.
Philip let the dog lead. It knew the way. The park and the lake at the center were in Philip’s thoughts so if he guided the dog along in that direction, Carnival Barker was none the wiser.
The lake was frozen over.
“Well, there goes that thought,” Philip said aloud. He wasn’t directing it to the dog because the thought had not been one he’d shared. It was also a thought not well thought out. Of course the lake would be frozen. It was winter and late December. Philip’s thought had proven he had not been thinking at all.
Philip sighed. It was very much like the sigh he had made before signing up for Xmas Dip for the staff Christmas Party. Both sighs were akin to having to admit defeat. Xmas Dip and Xmas Dip. Philip felt he had failed on both accounts.
The lake was frozen over. There was nothing to be done. Philip reached into his pocket and pulled out an old towel he had bunched up at home and pressed down into his pocket.
“I guess I won’t be needing this,” he said as he tossed the towel onto a nearby bench. Philip sat down dejectedly.
Carnival Barker sat down in front of Philip and stared. He understood none of this. All he knew was there had been no treats in Philip’s pocket in any case but then he’d not given it much thought as dog’s seldom do. He did however sense that something was wrong though so he reached up and put a paw on Philip’s knee.
“I know boy, this hasn’t been much fun for either of us.” Philip extended a hand, pat the dog, and then reached beside him and grabbed up a stick lying on the ground. Despite his original thought against free range dogs when he had first encountered Carnival Barker, he would nonetheless indulge himself with a game of fetch whenever they found themselves alone in the park.
“How about I toss the stick, fella, before we head home?” He unleashed Carnival Barker and gave the stick a hearty throw down the path that wound around the lake.
Carnival Barker was off in a shot and retrieved the stick and kept on running. Philip ran after him. It was always like this. The dog didn’t so much as play fetch as he played keep away. He’d always lead Philip on a merry chase until the dog tired or more likely the human tired and gave up and turned away with the dog finally following behind because the fun had gone out of the game.
Philip chased the dog along the path and finally came up alongside Carnival Barker and then made a lunge for the stick in his mouth. The mutt liked this interaction and made a lunge of his own and sped off across the lake. Philip followed and called after the dog.
“That’s enough Carnival Barker. It’s time to go home. Besides, I don’t like the looks of this ice.” It was precisely at that moment that the ice revolted against the remark of its looks and gave way; plunging Philip up to his chest in frigid water.
Philip began to howl and bounce up and down to try and clamber back up on the ice.
Carnival Barker began to bounce up and down and howl back at Philip.
“For god’s sake, Carnival Barker, shut up! Can’t you see I’m in trouble here?” Philip shouted through chattering teeth.
Carnival Barker did shut up and then retrieved the stick he had dropped when he’d howled at Philip howling in the water. He ran off back toward the shore.
“This isn’t a game, you dumb mutt!” Philip shouted in aggravation. The dog was too far away to hear the ‘dumb mutt’ insult. Not that he’d care. He wasn’t the dumb one who had fallen through the ice.
It seemed like an eternity as Philip struggled to pull himself up onto the ice. He’d read somewhere that you had to get your upper half out of the water and then wriggle and kick until you were free. Then you were required to keep yourself flat and distribute your weight evenly in order to not cause the ice to further give way. That was the eternity Philip spent trying to distance himself from the hole he’d created and trying to prevent another plunge into the cold lake.
His nether parts, as Dave-O had surmised were adversely affected. Philip’s legs and feet were like ice. His boots were full of water. He continued to writhe his way toward the shore.
Meanwhile, Carnival Barker had made good on his name and had run off yelping until he encountered another human who might be able to help his. A woman out for her Christmas Day constitutional had followed the sounds of the dog and came across the scene of poor Philip floundering on his stomach toward her direction.
The dog had given up all interest in the stick. It wasn’t a quality game anymore because it seemed like Philip didn’t appear to be interested in their play. Instead, he chomped onto the abandoned towel and ran around shaking it vigorously. He liked the way it slapped against his head. Maybe his owner would like to partake in this new sport. He ran toward Philip to try and engage him.
“Oh my, are you alright?” the woman yelled toward Philip.
Philip tilted his head up to try and see who was there. Carnival Barker ran up and smacked him with the towel. Philip managed to grab the bottom of the cloth and the dog began to pull away. He liked this new contest. He pulled harder to keep possession of his prize. The result was he began to pull Philip across the ice.
Soon the stranger joined in the game and began to try to wrestle the towel away from the dog’s owner. When they had finally reached the shore, Philip released and began panting. Carnival Barker had been victorious. He dropped the towel and began to pant in unison. It was the most fun the dog had had since running away with the stick.
“Here, let me help you up,” the woman said while wrapping the dog’s trophy towel around Philip’s shoulders. Philip looked up at her to offer his thanks.
“Sheila?” Yes, it was Sheila. Sheila of the coffee card. Sheila from his office with a position in the company he never did discover. The truth was, he had lost interest in solving the mystery of Sheila. That had all happened during the Margo kidnapping of Carnival Barker phase and he couldn’t think of much else back then.
“Philip?” She’d finally managed to glimpse the face of the body that had lain flailing on the ice. She recognized him. He worked at her company in the IT department but he wasn’t like the others in that department. He didn’t tell jokes or stories like his coworkers; the kind she failed to find humorous. Philip was quiet and reserved. That impressed her more.
Of course, unlike Philip, Sheila had done her research. She had drawn his name in the Secret Santa at work the previous year. She’d bought him a coffee gift card from a specialty shop where they also sold artisan dog biscuits for pets accompanied by their patrons. Someone had told her Philip had a dog. She hadn’t known, at the time, that man and beast had been separated prior to that holiday season. Philip had kept that bit to himself.
There was nothing for it after that but for Sheila to accompany Philip and Carnival Barker home. She was concerned for her coworker’s wellbeing. Frostbite was top of mind. It was top of mind for Philip, too.
“What is it exactly you do at the company?” Philip found himself asking of Sheila after he’d changed his clothes, put on a pot of coffee, and made them turkey sandwiches.
“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,” Sheila responded. This frozen man from the surface of the frozen lake obviously had a tale to tell of how he found himself plunging into icy water. She wanted to know more.
Philip understood that in her asking was that realization that he finally had something interesting to say. She’d said “tell me your story.” He had one. He had a story. It was partly his story and partly Carnival Barker’s. The key thing was where should he start?
“First,” Philip began, “tell me, Sheila, what do you know of Xmas Dip?”
The End
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Tags: Carnival Barker, Christmas, Scott Henderson. False Ducks