The 12 Days of Deathmas

By Gail Smith and Linda Mooney

Stories include:

1st Day, The Tree - Anders swore he'd cut down his own tree this year, even if it killed him.

2nd Day, The Doves - Kelly's abusive husband couldn't tolerate the birds crapping on his car.

3rd Day, The Hens - Eris's mother-in-law offers to make her and Jessup a Christmas Eve meal to remember.

4th Day, The Birds - Mackie assures Gennie that the dead birds the cat was bringing her were meant to be a present.

5th Day, The Rings - Ricky tells his parents a bad Santa came to visit him and demanded the boy give him five gold rings.

6th Day, The Geese - They say geese can be mean-spirited. Daisy discovers why.

7th Day, The Swans - Alice found an old Victrola in her grandparents' attic. It was the music it played that horrified her.

8th Day, The Milk - Dara and her sister wonder why everything has the same expiration date.

9th Day, The Ladies - Careen couldn't figure out why her daughter no longer wanted the "nine dancing ladies" dolls for Christmas.

10th Day, The Leapers - Vina's daughter asks for more salt to finish the ten circles she's pouring in her bedroom.

11th Day, The Pipers - Macy noticed that one of the pipers on display is missing...but not for long.

12th Day, The Drums - Jayne gets to the point where she can no longer stand the relentless pounding in her skull.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Mooney
• Release date: Dec 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9781953797353

Gail Smith

Gail Smith earned a Bachelor of Music degree from the University of Michigan and taught for several years. She and her late husband raised four children. She lives in Grand Ledge, Michigan.

Book preview

1ST DAY

The Tree

I’ll never understand you, Anders. Trissa stared across the middle console at her husband who was driving the truck. We could have bought a perfectly good tree at one of the lots in town.

But it wouldn’t be the same, he argued. Again.

It doesn’t make sense. Sitting back in her seat, she crossed her arms. We have a perfectly good artificial tree in storage.

"But it’s not a real tree. This year I want a real tree."

So why do we have to go out to this tree farm and cut one down ourselves?

He never took his eyes off the road. To make sure we get a fresh tree. One that won’t start shedding its needles the day after we get it home.

But why—

"Trissa, sweetheart, just…indulge me, okay? This year, let me have the kind of tree I want. Just this Christmas. I promise you, every year afterward, you can have any kind of tree you want. Lot bought, artificial. Hell, you can even have one of those damn aluminum trees with the revolving spotlight shining on it. The kind my grandparents used to have when I was growing up. But this year, for my piece of mind, let me have an old-fashioned Christmas. "

But, Anders, are you sure you’re strong enough to do it?

He slapped the dashboard. Damn it, I’m going to cut down a tree if it kills me!

She winced. In all their twenty-three years of marriage, she had to admit he had let her decorate the house any way she’d wanted to. Her only limitation was the cost, but she’d gotten good at hitting all the after-Christmas sales in past years, and was able to stock up on decorations and shit at a fraction of the cost for the following year.

He’d always indulged her. It was only right she give him at least this one Christmas to do things his way.

But it didn’t mean she had to like it.

A little over an hour later, they arrived at the tree lot. At first view, it was a pretty impressive setup. Off in the distance, all you could see were what appeared to be miles and miles of Christmas trees. Big and green, and ripe for cutting.

Trissa groaned again when they climbed out of their borrowed truck. Are we going to have to walk all that way?

I figure they’d have some sort of transportation, her husband guessed. Oh, look. There’s someone I think who can help us.

That someone was a guy named Edgar, unless he was wearing someone else’s name badge.

Not a problem, the man told Anders. We have golf carts with trailers attached, if your wife has a mobility problem.

Anders shot her a look that begged her not to retort. Even though she resented being assumed to be handicapped, she kept her mouth shut and followed her husband to the area where several carts were parked. Getting into the one he chose, they took off, through the gate and into the fields.

They bypassed the Douglas firs and the Scotch pines, and found themselves in the area designated as Noble firs. She was grateful he soon picked the one that caught his fancy, as they all looked exactly alike to her.

Isn’t it a beauty? Look at her! All green and full!

You sound like Steve Irwin. What if it’s too tall for the living room?

He chuckled as he walked over to it with the ax and flicked the little blue ribbon attached to a bough. This means it’s between five and eight feet, so it’ll fit. Bending over, he tried to push aside the lower branches to get to the trunk, but the limbs kept swiping back at him.

She almost laughed. It looks like the tree doesn’t want you anywhere near it.

That just proves it’s a fresh and healthy tree.

These branches are too close together. How are we going to be able to decorate it?

Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find a way. Stay in the cart, out of the way.

This time she did as she was told without question. She knew he wasn’t skilled with the ax, so there was no telling how long this attempt to chop down a tree would take. Already bored, she pulled out her cell phone to check her emails when she heard the first feeble chop. Almost immediately, a soft groan wafted through the air.

She looked up in alarm. Anders? Honey?

Another chop. I’m okay! His voice came to her from the other side.

That wasn’t you groaning?

Naw. It was the tree.

Another chop, and the sound came again.

I don’t think the tree wants to be cut down, she remarked with a giggle.

He chuckled. You’re probably right.

As he continued to hack away, she’d swear she heard the thing softly screaming, and said as much. What if it is? she asked him. What if it’s screaming in pain?

That’s your overactive imagination talking, he told her.

She harumphed. I read somewhere that the smell of freshly cut grass is the grass’s way of screaming in pain.

Anders paused to give her a hard stare. And I’ve told you not to believe everything you read on the internet. For crying out loud, don’t you know people make up stuff out of thin air and post shit like that so that people like you will read it and take it seriously?

Irritated, she kept her mouth shut.

It took him nearly half an hour before he managed to get the tree cut away from its roots. With the both of them pulling on the limbs, they got it toppled, then dragged it over to the sled where Anders tied it down. By the time they got back to the main building, they were both worn out and sweaty. But her husband couldn’t stop from grinning with pride.

Honey, you got any tissues with you?

Of course, she did, and he knew it because of her allergies. Sure. Why?

Let me have a few, will you?

She pulled the packet from her purse and held them out to him. She wasn’t expecting his fingers to be bleeding, and she gasped. Did you cut yourself with that ax?

Naw. Those branches are tough bastards. He chuckled. They got me good.

Shaking her head, she tsked. Looks like the tree was trying to get back at you for cutting it down.

He chuckled. It certainly felt that way at times.

It wasn’t until he moved into the light that she also noticed several slashes across his cheeks, chin, and forehead. Anders!

I’m fine! I’m fine! he assured her. A little alcohol and a couple of bandages, and I’ll be right as rain.

"Alcohol inside or outside?" she questioned him in a somewhat teasing manner.

Both.

Luckily, a couple of workers came over and trimmed the bottom so it would fit inside the tree stand they’d brought with them. Afterward, the men hoisted the tree into the truck bed while Anders went inside to pay and Trissa waited for him in the cab. When he finally joined her, she asked the obvious question.

Okay. We got us a fresh cut tree. What’s next on your list? Candles for lights? Stringing popcorn?

He tossed her a smile. We’ll use the electric lights as usual, but I like the stringing popcorn idea. Then, without provocation, he began singing. On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree.

"Please tell me you’re not thinking about getting some damn bird, too!"

But it would be perfect!

She groaned, shaking her head.

It was almost dark when they got home. Trissa moved the car so he could back into the driveway to unload the tree. Between the two of them, they managed to get the overgrown bush in through the front door and over into the corner of the living room where the Christmas tree always stood.

Standing a ways back, Anders looked at his accomplishment with obvious pride. I’ll put some water in the stand tonight. We can begin decorating it tomorrow. How does that sound?

Oh, goodie, Trissa dryly remarked. I can’t believe you don’t intend to decorate it tonight.

Her husband snorted as he walked over to her and dropped a kiss to her cheek. Thanks for letting me have this.

She meant to tell him he was welcome in her most sarcastic voice, but he hurried out of the room and into the kitchen where she heard him searching the cupboards for a pitcher. Giving the tree one final stare before heading for the bedroom, she paused as she noticed something.

Hey, Anders?

What, hon?

She heard him turn on the water at the sink. I think you might have gotten a sick tree anyway.

The water was turned off, and he reentered the living room with the pitcher.

What do you mean?

She motioned at the tree. Look at it. Its limbs are drooping.

He studied the plant as he knelt to fill the tree stand. I think it’s just in shock from being cut down. It’ll be fine once it starts drinking again.

"You think