A New Years Eve Wish

New Years Eve

Jack Walker hated New Years Eve. While the rest of the world would be celebrating, he’d be at home, mourning his wife. It happened on New Year’s Eve thirteen years ago. After a night of revelry and hard drinking, he had woken up with a severe hangover.  Christine never woke up. The medical examiner said it was alcohol poisoning. She was only twenty six years old and looking forward to starting a family. What a waste.

He was hoping for a busy day at the office, so he wouldn’t have to think about her all day. Jack got into his red mustang twenty minutes early, drove to the Bay Area Rapid Transit System terminal, and rode the train the rest of the way into San Francisco. While walking briskly to work, he was accosted by a street beggar. She looked like a gray haired hippie in a tie die shirt and she was selling plastic wish bones.

She said, “Five dollars for a wish? It’s to support the New Beginning’s Woman Shelter.”

He said, “Only five dollars for any wish I want?”

“Whatever you wish for, but you need to keep it a secret.”

“Okay, if it’s for a good cause.” Jack handed the old woman a five dollar bill and yearned for his bride. The old woman looked deep in thought and then her face brightened.

“Yes,” she said, “We can do that. Expect some changes in your life. Happy New Year.”

Jack was still thinking what a strange woman that was when he trudged to his office cubicle. His cubicle was still the same. The Employee of the Month Certificate for November was pinned to one wall, a testament to his hard work for Pacific Gas and Electric. A 2013 yearly calendar, featuring national parks, hung on the other wall. He longed for a family to take to those parks. A picture frame held his most prized possession at his desk. It was a picture of a beautiful woman with long red hair and freckles in a white wedding dress. It was taken six months before she died.

Jack sat down, turned on his computer, and typed in his user name and password. The stupid computer displayed “INVALID PASSWORD. Retype user name and password.” After a pause, he typed in a password he had never used before, “nHti0b,t?wdih.”   The drinking song, “In heaven there is no beer, that’s why we drink it here”, came into his head. Much to his surprise, the password worked and the computer log in process started.

Pete O’Reilly, from accounting, and Whitey McPhee, came into his cubicle. This was a surprise to Jack, because he never associated with these men.

Pete said, “Hey, Johnny Walker, be at my house at eight, and bring your own bottle, or should I say bring your own bottles?” Whitey nodded in agreement.

Jack said, “What are you jerks talking about? I gave up drinking thirteen years ago after my wife drank herself to death. Get out of here. I have work to do.”  The two men stared at Jack like he was from another planet.

“Okay,” Pete said, “Whatever you say. Happy New Year.” As they left, Jack’s phone rang. It was his boss and he sounded upset. He ordered Jack to his office.

His boss said, “Jack, your work performance this last year has been marginal at best, but this month has been totally unacceptable. You’ve been making too many stupid mistakes and you’re working too way slow. I know you can do better, but if you don’t, I’ll fire you. Do I make myself clear?” Jack just nodded. “Good, then sober up and get to work!”

Jack, stunned, confused, and shaking, retreated to his cubicle. His Employee of the Month Certificate was gone. Jack sat down and closed his eyes. He was convinced someone was playing a cruel hoax, but couldn’t imagine who or why.

Well, no matter, he had work to do. The first thing was to print out his morning report. He retrieved his report from the printer and returned to his desk to check his calendar. The National Parks calendar was replaced by a calendar featuring people enjoying Johnny Walker Whiskey. He angrily tore the calendar down and trashed it. When he looked up, the photograph of Christine was missing. He frantically searched under his desk, in the desk drawers and the trash can. He found the frame in the trash can, but with a different photo.

Jack stared in disbelief at this new found photo. It was in a frame with broken glass, as if someone had thrown it to the floor in an angry rage. There were three persons in the photo.  A red haired woman, with short hair, resembled Christine, but ten years older. There was a boy, about ten years old, who had the same brown hair and brown eyes as Jack. He looked like the son Jack never had. His sister, about eight years old, had the same beautiful red hair and freckles that her mother had. Jack removed the photo from the frame, turned it over and read the caption.

“Christine, age 37, Marvin, age 10, Erica, age 8. 2010.” This was his family from two years ago? That was impossible. Christine died eleven years before this picture was taken. With trembling hands, he looked closer at the caption. Marvin and Erica were the names he and Christine were going to name their children. And the caption was written in his handwriting.

Jack’s boss came into the cubicle and noticed Jack was distraught.

His boss asked, “What are you doing here? I just remembered, I told you yesterday that you could take the whole day off.  Did you forget and come to work anyway?”

“You know, boss, I really could use the rest of the day of. I’m having trouble at home I need to take care of.”

“Well, Happy New Year, but don’t come back to work hung-over.”

Jack rushed out of the office. Did he really have his wife back? Did he really have a son and daughter? He had to find out now. He took the first train across the bay and ran to the parking lot. A silver Focus was parked in his usual parking spot. Confused, Jack perused the parking lot and found no red mustangs. On a hunch, he pulled out his car keys and pressed the Unlock button. The focus unlocked and Jack climbed into his car. As he gripped the steering wheel, he noticed a gold band on his left ring finger. He hadn’t worn his wedding ring in ten years, but he wasn’t surprised to see it on his hand now. He was anxious to meet his beloved Christine and his children.

The outside of the house was unchanged. It was still yellow with brown trim. He took a breath and entered his house.

A voice from the kitchen said, “Oh, it’s you. Why are you home so early? Did you finally get fired?”  Christine glared at him with contempt.  She was thirteen years older, her hair had streaks of gray, she had gained some weight and her scowl hid any elegance she once possessed.

Jack said, “I took the day off.”

She pulled a can of beer from the refrigerator, popped it open and slammed it on the table in front of Jack.

She said, “I’m going shopping. The kids are next door.” Without a further word, she ran out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Jack inspected his house. The children’s school pictures hung in the hallway. Marvin was now twelve, trying to smile for the camera. Erica was now ten. Her red hair was even more beautiful, but the blue eyes appeared haunted, as if hiding an inner hurt.

The first bedroom was furnished as a boy’s room. Old blue paint was peeling from the walls, dirty clothes were piled in one corner, school books littered a dusty bookshelf and a new basketball sat on a dresser. It was still in an unopened box. The second bedroom was painted pink with a bed suited for a ten year old girl. Posters of the latest teenage heart throbs were posted on her walls.

The master bedroom furnishings were unchanged. However, one of the two closets was filled with women’s clothes. It could have been thirteen years ago, just before his Christine died. If his Christine died, who was this Christine? What kind of man was she married to? Was he an alcoholic who treated his family like dirt? This might explain her hateful scowl, Erica’s inner hurt and Marvin’s half hearted smile.

Jack continued his inspection with the back yard. The yard and patio were still there, but the basketball hoop was missing. He found a new basketball hoop in the garage, having never been installed. Jack entered the back kitchen door as Marvin rambled through the front door.

“Oh, hi Dad,” he sullenly said. “I know. I need to clean my room. I was going to do it now, I swear I was.”

“That can wait,” Jack replied, “let’s put up the basketball hoop.” Marvin was too surprised to say anything, but gladly followed his father outside. In half an hour, they were ready for a game of one on one, using Marvin’s new basketball.  It had been thirteen years since Jack bounced a basketball and his lack of practice showed. His twelve year old son was dribbling all around him.

He was huffing and puffing when Christine came home. She looked at her husband and son with astonishment. She was about to say something when Erica cried out from the kitchen.

When Jack entered the kitchen, Erica cried, “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I thought it was empty.” Erica had knocked the beer bottle over, spilling its contents on the table and kitchen floor. “Please don’t hit me, Daddy, I swear it was an accident. I’ll clean it up.”

Jack said, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I know it was an accident. You didn’t put it there. Anyone could have knocked it over.”

Christine snapped, “Are you saying it’s my fault?”

“No, I’m saying it’s my fault. I’ll clean up this mess.” Mother and daughter watched in amazement as Jack searched for the cleaning supplies and started mopping the floor. Their amazement increased when Marvin pitched in to help. After the kitchen was cleaned, Marvin continued beating his father in basketball. The game ended when a cold winter rain drenched the players, who retreated into the kitchen.

Christine handed Marvin a soda, pulled out another beer bottle and plopped it in front of Jack.  Instead of opening the beer, Jack helped himself to a root beer.

“Hey Dad,” Marvin said, “I betcha I can beat you on the Wii.”

“You’re on. Get it set up.”

On the WII gaming system, each player was represented by a cartoon character created by each player. Jack frowned when he learned that the Mii” representing the father of the family was named “Beer Belly.” His children showed him how to create a new “Mii” that he named “Power Man.” Then they showed him how to delete “Beer Belly.”  When he did delete Beer Belly, he noticed a wistful smile on Erica’s face. Jack dropped the Wii controller and looked at his son and daughter.

He said, “You don’t like seeing your father drunk, do you?” They sat there quietly and shook their heads.

Then Erica suddenly screamed, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you when you’re drunk. You’re mean and nasty. I hate you!”

Marvin said, “She’s right Dad. And nothing you do can change that.”

Christine barged between her children and Jack. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on them, you jerk.”

Jack calmly said, “I’m not mad. Marvin, Erica, can you help me pour all that beer down the sink?” Christine sat by in astonishment as beer bottle after beer bottle was emptied down the drain. She produced two bottles of wine that were also emptied. Those were the wine bottles they were supposed to take to the New Years Eve party. Instead, Christine called to cancel the baby sitter.

The family returned to the computer game and soon lost track of time. The game was interrupted by the smell of burning food. Christine rushed to the kitchen to find the casserole burned. She looked at Jack with great fear.

Marvin said, rather flippantly, “No great loss. I don’t like that stuff anyway.”

Jack said, “Hey, your mother works hard all day. You need to show some respect. Honey, don’t worry about dinner, I’ll fix something. No, I have a better idea. Marvin and I will make dinner.” Marvin was too surprised to object and Christine was beyond surprise. In another forty-five minutes, Marvin was putting a steaming hot pan of homemade spaghetti on the kitchen table.

As Jack savored this home cooked meal, he said, “Marvin, this is the best spaghetti you have ever made.”  After dinner, Jack helped Christine clean up. He wanted to hug her, to squeeze her tight and tell her how much he loved her and missed her. But she hardly even looked at him and worked in silence.

They had a small New Years Eve party, just the four of them. The rain stopped long enough for another game of basketball, this time two on two. Nobody kept score. When the rain started again, they retreated back to the kitchen for root beer floats. Before they knew it, everyone was saying “Happy New Year.” Erica and Marvin hugged their parents good night and went to bed.

Jack went to his bedroom a few minutes later. Christine confronted him, scowling mad and pointing a gun. Jack put up his hands.

“Who are you?”she demanded.

“I’m Jack.”

“Bull! You’re no more my husband than I’m the queen of England. Oh, you look like him and sound like him. But you don’t act like him! He’s a no good lousy creep. He would’ve beat the tar out of poor little Erica for spilling that stupid beer. And he’s never played ball with Marvin. Never! Do you remember the last time I burned dinner?”

Jack had to shake his head no.

“You beat me so bad that your son called the police on you. I don’t know why I let that brute back in the house. But who are you? What did you do with my husband? What do you want? Tell me now!”

“Christine, in my world, I loved you. I loved you more than anything else in the world. Thirteen years ago, on New Year’s Eve, we drank too much. When I awoke on New Year’s Day, 2000, you were dead. I’ve missed you so much ever since. And I wouldn’t drink another beer again even if you pulled that trigger.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“No. I don’t believe it either. But this morning, on my way to work, I bought a wish from a street vendor. I wanted you back. ” Christine’s hard scowl softened.

“Don’t tell me. She was selling plastic wishbones and she said, ‘We can do that.” He nodded in surprised agreement. She put the gun down, reached for her purse and pulled out a plastic wishbone.

She said, “I also bought a wish.” With her radiant smile, Christine never looked more beautiful.  “Happy New Year, darling.”