Page 4 of Oh Holy Knight

Great.

Swiping my thumb across the screen, I accept the call and bring the phone to my ear, bracing myself for whatever hell he’s calling to deliver. Yesterday he called just to sing Dominick The Donkey to Anna. When he became a caroler, I have no idea.

“Hello?”

“Did you get it?” he asks.

“Did I get what?”

“The elf!”

Ah! I should’ve known.

“I take it you left this thing on the stoop?”

“No, Santa Claus left it you dope.”

“Right, well, does Santa want to explain what I’m supposed to do with reindeer food?”

“Shove it up your ass for all I care, it’s the elf that’s important.”

I look at the stupid doll. Do kids really like this thing? I mean, his eyes are creepy as fuck and what’s with the evil grin? It doesn’t exactly scream good cheer.

“Are you there?”

My dad’s boisterous voice startles me for a moment and I snap out of the elf induced trance.

“Hello? Nico? Ah, for fucks sake! What’s wrong with this phone?”

Crazy, I tell you.

Fucking nuts.

“I’m here,” I call. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

He seems even more bizarre than usual.

God help us all.

“Never mind that,” he grunts. “Now, listen here, there should be a book in the basket. Do you see it?”

Moving the coloring book aside, I pluck the story book from the basket and open it, flipping through the pages.

Blah, blah, blah.

“What about it?” I question.

“Tonight, before Anna goes to bed, read the story to her. Then after she goes to sleep you have to make the elf do something.”

I pause mid page turn.

I really thought we’d have a couple more years before we’d have to send him to the funny farm. I guess time really isn’t on his side.

“Come again?”

“Something over the top,” he replies. “I saw some clever ideas on Pinterest.”

I close the book and try to picture my old man—his glasses perched on his nose as he scrolls the internet—but it’s a stretch. The guy doesn’t even know how to work his phone much less a computer. I bet he doesn’t even know what a search engine is.

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