Doofus, the Little Christmas Boy

By Kandy Kristmas

Watch out Harry Potter! There's a new kid on the block who can out-fight, out-fly and out-enchant them all! Meet brave, resilient Doofus Dunlap and his brave pals-crazy little Ziggy, feisty Maggie and mystical Buck as they race beneath Earth to save Santa Claus from the enemies of Christmas.

Join our American heroes as they battle the terrifying Demon Deer, the ferocious Dirt Devils and the worst of all-mad scientist Dr. Mirakle who rules the Dark World. Joining in the good fight is America's dazzling young President Barney Jordan. Add this fabulous volume next to The Wizard of Oz and Harry Potter. You'll never think of Christmas again without remembering brave little Doofus Dunlap and his holiday heroes!

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 21, 2004
• ISBN: 9780595779949

Kandy Kristmas

Kandy Kristmas is the pen name of celebrated author, Jery Tillotson. A resident of New York City, he is also known to thousands as both ?Jason Fury? and Andrea D?Allasandra. He spends each Christmas in his home state of North Carolina.

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Contents

PART I

PART II

PART III

About the Author…

DOOFUS, THE LITTLE CHRISTMAS BOY

KANDY KRISTMAS

iüniverse, Inc.

New York Lincoln Shanghai

All Rights Reserved © 2004 by Jery Tillotson

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ISBN: 978-0-5953-3209-0 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

For our valiant American military men and Women—who are the real heroes of the world

PART I

THE ELVES AND THE MONSTERS

As long as I am President of the United States, there will always be Christmas celebrated in our great nation. If narrow-minded bigots want to fight me on this, I say to them: bring it on!

U.S. President Barney Jordan

State of the Union Address—January 200_ *

Those legends of old—of sorcerers and underground cities and dragons—may well have some basis in fact. Literal doorways into these fantastic worlds may exist in certain areas of this earth whereby people have vanished through the centuries.

Dr. Hargrove Abrogast Top Secret White Paper to the U.S. President

On Mars Landing Related to Parallel Worlds on Earth

*

‘I wish everyday was Christmas’ …Doofus Dunlap

Chapter One

Doofus had a terrible secret.

Only three other people in the world knew about it. They were red-haired little Maggie, crazy ole Ziggy and big moody Buck.

Beneath his blanket in the basement of his home, Doofus had hidden a battered old book. He had loosened a brick and created a perfect little hole. Wrapped carefully in a woolen rag, the treasured volume was stolen from the Christmas Burning a month before.

September 11 was the date selected for everyone who lived in Coal Town, North Carolina, to turn in any souvenirs of Christmas. They were to be destroyed by fire. Failure to rid themselves of all remnants of this holiday meant arrest and jail time.

Christmas was now a forbidden holiday in Coal Town and many other small towns in America.

Doofus had studied United States history and was struck by how the antiChristmas ban was like other repressive movements of the past. There was the Prohibition Ban of liquor in the

1920S.

In the

1950S,

women’s groups saw to it that horror comic books were censored and destroyed.

The late twentieth century saw anti-smoking zealots pushing through laws to ban smoking nearly everywhere. Scientists had since found miraculous health benefits in tobacco—but the bigots killed all research projects.

All these movements wanted to do good for everybody, thought the smart and thoughtful little boy. Yet, they brought unhappiness to everyone.

Doofus did not want to witness the book burning. But all students were ordered to attend the event. Younger kids had no idea what this holiday was all about. The local television station had erased any programming or cartoons that even suggested this was once the most beloved time in America.

Merchants were forbidden to sell any cards, decorations, packages or items that hinted at the Yuletide holiday. For the past five years, sheriff patrols cruised neighborhoods on December 24th to sniff out any suspicious holiday activity. Several parents were jailed for trying to enjoy their own little party.

Reluctant teachers herded Doofus and other students into the town square where the bonfire was prepared. Grim faced merchants were also ordered to appear. Surrounding the square were boarded up old buildings that had once thrived as modest apartments.

Now, all occupants had long fled this dismal setting.

Doofus’ own mother, Dorothy Dunlap, had gleefully lit a match and thrown it into the fuel-soaked heap.

This symbolizes the official death of December 25th in Coal Town! she cried. From now on, Coal Town is a Christmas Free City!

Dorothy Dunlap was president of the Coal Town chapter of RATS. This pressure group was responsible for the national movement that had deleted Christmas from many towns. Members were also responsible for total bans on Halloween, Thanksgiving and Valentines day.

Prior to the burning, students were forced to watch a documentary created by RATS to show the dangerous effects of Christmas.

I killed my husband because he didn’t give me that fur coat he promised, sniffled Mabel Turnipseed from her prison cell. Christmas made me do it!

I went crazy Christmas morning, sobbed Pauly Olsten, a shifty-eyed thug from his prison cell. I had a breakdown and burned down my apartment building. I couldn’t buy my kids all those new watches and computer stuff they wanted. I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t Christmas.

An unshaven man glared at the camera: Yeah, I wanted to make lots of money Christmas. I overcharged all my customers. I made a fortune. Why do people accuse of me being greedy and selfish?

Then the screen filled with faces of countless crying children and young people. All of them were patients in a mental hospital.

One of them, Daisy Kellum wailed: I’m miserable! I didn’t get all the expensive things I wanted for Christmas! I can’t face the other kids at school because I didn’t get my Higgie Tennis Shoes and May-May jacket and skirt and slacks and I also wanted a car. Santa was also supposed to bring me a watch with real diamonds.

This, declared Dorothy Dunlap in dramatic tones, "is what RATS is trying to destroy. No more breakdowns or murders or wonderful young people hav-

ing their lives destroyed by greed and cruelty. Without Christmas, our lives will be sunshine everyday!"

Students and teaching staff showed no emotion as the flames devoured the pitiful holiday ornaments, cards, wrappings and reading materials. Old and young observers were conditioned to hide their real emotions. If they protested this act, then the teachers would be fired and the student expelled.

The only people who smiled and cheered were the dreaded Smears. This wasn’t surprising. Anything that was fun or silly or brought enjoyment to other kids was jeered at by the Smears.

No one knew where they came from. They had suddenly appeared five years ago. They were not like the other students. They were not white, black, brown or amber. They were big and heavy with gray skin. Their eyes were enormous and dark. They never blinked. Their mouths were round and hung open in a loose hole. Saliva trickled down their chins. When they talked, their voices sounded thick and gurgly.

Doofus thought their flesh looked like unfinished rubber. No hair was visible on their bodies except for a thick thatch on their oblong skulls that resembled a congealed gob of gleaming grease.

You couldn’t tell if they were male or female. It’s like they came out of one mold, thought the boy. Maybe they’ve got a microchip that makes them move around.

As flames consumed the books, thirteen-year-old Doofus watched a group of Smears drag a big plastic garbage bag filled with Christmas volumes to the bonfire. The bag had burst open. Contents spilled everywhere.

Since this happened at the back of the crowd, Doofus saw that several of the books had fallen behind some bushes. The Smears found those but missed one.

With no one watching, Doofus slipped behind the bush and thrust the old volume beneath his ragged old jacket.

Afterwards, he and Maggie and Ziggy and Buck had hurried to their favorite old oak tree in the Haunted Wood. No one, not even the Smears, came here. Everyone knew witches and vampires and ghouls inhabited this forgotten old place.

A high steel fence surrounded the wood for several blocks near the school. Long ago, it had belonged to a wealthy merchant. But after he died, his estate went to ruin. Only a scary house of stone remained and everyone knew a witch lived there. Yet, no one had ever seen her.

Now, the four friends gazed in amazement at the book cover: Christmas With the Smith Family.

Carefully, Doofus opened the volume. To Nancy, from Mom and Dad, Christmas 1973.

They’re all dead now, Buck mused. That happened so long ago.

For long minutes, they said little as Doofus carefully turned the pages. Images of stunning color, of laughing people, of snow and gifts and evergreen trees laden with decorations bedazzled them.

The young readers were spellbound at illustrations showing everyone in the Smith family laughing and singing. The Mama and Papa were dressed in beautiful sweaters and skirts and jackets. The younger Smiths wore winter clothes that vibrated with shimmering colors of jade, gold, emerald and cherry.

A funny little puppy entangled everyone with his frisky antics. He jumped and hid and no one got angry. In the big, warm kitchen, both the parents baked cookies and cakes.

Best of all, a wonderful looking Christmas tree glowed with incredible dots of glowing lights. The Smiths sang carols and the last picture showed them outside, in the snow, with a full moon.

All of them stared upward and sailing across the moon was an unforgettable image: Santa Claus waving at them as his powerful deer raced with him back to the North Pole.

Each page of this old favorite book was ragged around the edges. Whoever had read this thin tome had obviously done so many times. Probably it was handed down from generation to generation.

Smudges of chocolate candy here and there suggested fingers of children had handled these pages.

Look at this! gasped Doofus. See? It’s pictures of Santa Claus!

They were delighted by this incredible world where bright colors gleamed everywhere—from the holiday decorations to the clothes to the food.

These people in the pictures were shown eating pie and cake and sipping cups of steaming cocoa.

Neither Doofus nor his buddies had ever tasted candy or sweets. In the school cafeteria, all food came from someplace far away. Servings were shaped like squares of mildew. A sickly green and a repulsive yellow were the only hues.

Kids called this food Glop. They could not tell if it was meat, vegetable or dessert. The only liquid served them was water. To them, Glop and water were stuff you had to swallow and forget about.

In his house, Doofus had only dirty and cold leftovers to eat. His mother threw it together in a grubby old dog bowl. She left it at the top of the basement stairs. Sometimes she mashed in eggshells and chicken bones. She often spat onto the food. Doofus could see it. It was like she wanted him to get sick or suffer food poisoning.

Everyone in the book pictures laughed or smiled or sang songs. Rarely had the four buddies heard anyone laugh in joy.

Did you see that little puppy? Maggie asked sadly. Wouldn’t it be great to have a pet?

No homes in Coal Town were allowed pets of any kind. Not even small birds. RATS decreed that animals bred disease.

Wow! whistled Ziggy. I wish I was in those pictures.

He was a small, Asian boy with impish dark eyes and jet bangs. His parents beat him and worked him until late at night at their 24-hour food and flower mart. He was notorious for forming the most hideous looking faces imaginable. I see Santa Claus and I like him!

He crossed his eyes and used his fingers to yank down the corners of his mouth. He stuck his face into Maggie’s.

Cut it out, Zig! laughed Maggie. One day, your face is going to freeze and you can make monster movies.

Oh, you mean, like this? Ziggy made his face even crazier and grunted like a gorilla. He stumbled around like that animal and made his features even more outlandish.

You’re too much, Mr. Zig-Zag! giggled Maggie. She was a thin, red-haired little girl whose clothes were ragged and too small. Burn marks on her flesh and torn patches in her wrinkled clothes made her look like trailer-trash. That’s what the Smears always said about people whose clothes didn’t look brand new and fresh-from-the-box like theirs.

Maggie’s father used a leather strap to lash her and forced her to wear the ugliest clothes he could find. He wanted her to become so unhappy at school that she would quit. Then she would have to stay home and take care of his cooking and cleaning and have no friends.

The pretty girl had hands that were reddened from the strong soap she used to scrub the floors of her trailer home. Her father made her rub the floors every night. Then he knocked over a smelly can of garbage and made her start all over again.

Alone with her friends, she showed them the scarves and hats she knitted in secret. She loved color but the school forbid hues, other than black and gray.

She had discovered, however, that if you boiled berries and fruit and herbs, you could create your own rich hues. The kindly teacher of Home Economics slipped the thin little girl all of the extra wool and fabric left over from assignments.

In the woods behind her trailer, Maggie had created her own small laboratory from old cans and jars. She experimented in making colors for her creations. Yet, she could wear none of them. No colors were allowed in Coal Town High School.

People used to read about Christmas all the time, muttered Buck. You have to wonder why RATS is so much against it?

He was only fifteen, but was so powerful and strong that the Smears left him alone. His face was scarred from extreme acne and this made him shy and withdrawn. He was also prone to strange fits that made him blush a cherry red. When these weird moods overwhelmed him, he ran away until he returned to normal.

His buddies privately thought that he suffered from epileptic fits. They never questioned him. If any of them were ever in trouble, Buck would jump in and help them out. His home life was also hellish because of his brutal stepfather. Although Buck never complained, his close buddies heard that the stepfather used Buck only as a workhorse to run their small farm.

Doofus smiled at his prize and at the reaction of his friends.

Just think, he said quietly, Christmas was celebrated around the world. Everybody looked forward to it.

Now they can throw us in jail, muttered Maggie. Or send us to reform school.

We gotta destroy the RATS! vowed Ziggy. He jumped to his feet and performed several elaborate karate kicks and spins.

If they even know we’ve looked at this book, they could kick us out of school.

Your mother would love that, wouldn’t she, Doofus? said Ziggy. He said this without malice or criticism. Dorothy Dunlap was the fanatical head of RATS, the organization that had spread all across America during the past ten years.

RATS stood for Right And True Soldiers. Dorothy Dunlap was president of the group that began in the early twenty-first century. A collection of housewives and church leaders had launched a campaign to rid the schools and towns of Halloween. Why? Because the groups argued it encouraged worship of the devil.

With this success, the group quickly grew and racked up another achievement by urging the ban of Thanksgiving from all schools, businesses and television. Why? Because it encouraged gluttony and celebration of America’s past.

This triumph made RATS a nationally recognized force. They appeared all over television, on CNN, and often wept for the cameras. Fox News refused to give them airtime, accusing them of being dangerous, bigoted and subversive.

Now, its latest project had succeeded in many parts of America.

Christmas should be outlawed from being celebrated in schools, businesses and television. Why? Because it encouraged greed, selfishness and mindless enjoyment.

Yet, RATS had met passionate opposition from groups that protested there was little enough joy in the world. Why not leave America with at least one holiday of happiness? RATS had managed to quash many of these rebels.

Anti-Rats groups were strongest in the large cities like Los Angeles, Chicago and New York City. In smaller towns, though, there was little defiance. People wanted to be respected. To go against RATS, was not politically correct.

RATS said its primary goal was to help all children to mature into fine, upstanding citizens. Anyone who dared criticize RATS was shamed as someone who didn’t support decency and clean living.

In Coal Town, Dorothy Dunlap had managed to charm and persuade all the important leaders that Christmas had no place in modern life. She argued that all the money spent on the celebration of Yuletide—with its parties and spending and giving—should be spent on the city’s poor.

When one city official pointed out that the city’s poor remained poor no matter what was done because these poor people refused to work, he was quickly shouted down.

Doofus and his friends had often discussed how one town merchant rebelled against the anti-Christmas ordinance.

Ned Pemberton owned a small shop on Main Street. It had been in his family for one hundred and ten years. The cozy little store was famous for stocking up on all types of holiday decorations. Halloween, Easter, Valentine’s Day, July 4th and especially Christmas.

Ned stood up at the Anti-Christmas hearing held that September and attacked the City Council, especially Dorothy Dunlop.

What are you people trying to do? You’re like those anti-smoking fanatics we used to have. And you had those yahoos in the fifties who banned horror comic books. All these narrow-minded puritans thought they knew best for everyone and they crammed their crazy ideas down everybody’s throats. Coal Town is already dead. All of our young people leave here as soon as they finish high school. There’s nothing here for them. Our coalmines have dried up. You’re turning our town into a cemetery!

How dare you call our town a cemetery! shrieked Dorothy Dunlap. Our chapter of RATS is a respectable nationwide organization! Because of RATS, crime has gone down anywhere that’s banned Christmas and Halloween and Thanksgiving.

Show me the figures! demanded Ned Pemberton. I don’t believe a damned word. And since when did these holidays encourage crime anyway? Those bigots who banned horror comics back in the fifties said the same thing. And they were all wrong. There’s nobody left here to commit crimes. There’s nothing for anybody to steal!

Witnesses said Dorothy Dunlop nodded toward a group of thuggish Smears and they dragged Ned Pemberton out of city hall. In a week, his store was bombed and destroyed by fire. He left Coal Town.

You’d better never let your sweet ole Mama see you with this book, Doofus boy! advised Ziggy. He bulged his eyes and jutted his upper jaw forward while sticking out his tongue.

Don’t keep it around your house, Doofus! nodded Buck. Your Ma sure wouldn’t like it.

Ha, ain’t this a scream! giggled Maggie. Doofus’ Mama is the president of RATS. And her own little boy has a Christmas book that would send her off her rocker.

As the youngsters discussed how it must have been in the old days when Christmas was celebrated, Doofus cried out: Listen, let’s form a club! Just us four. We’ll be an army to fight for Christmas.

Cool idea! nodded Buck, whose scarred face lit up with a smile. We’ll be a secret society.

We’d have to do this real confidential like, gasped Ziggy in delight. "A mysterious band