Page 6 of Bed of Roses

“I’ve never seen anything like it Raven.” That wasn’t a lie. The crowd went crazy. Like I had just told them they each won the lottery. “You sure go all out. From the talented choir, all of our shop owners giving it their all to ensure you all go home with your arms full of packages. And seriously—please be sure to patronize all of these establishments. Keep your money local. Show people you care by buying them something that signifies you spent time thinking about them and who they are, instead of just buying a bunch of impersonal gift cards for coffee.”

“Unless of course they love coffee, which a lot of people do Bear.”

Given that Raven stood in a hooped skirt and Victorian lace, she had toned down her normal “don’t fuck with me” makeup in favor of something much softer. She was all pink cheeks and big lilac colored eyes. I explain this because when her eyes were lined in all that black shit, it was a given she was intimidating as fuck. With this sweet fresh face, I didn’t think her looks could still be intimidating. I was wrong. Her lips set into a line so firm they lost color. The hand on her hip and the cock to her head was not Victorian in the slightest, and made it evident I’d stepped in shit again. So I pulled back. Hey at least I plugged people shopping local and that was important right? And that was a genuine request, no one paid for or sponsored by anyone with interests in the radio station.

“You are so right Raven. And, do you know what goes great with a cup of coffee or hot cocoa? Those delicious gingerbread cookies that Bernie at the North Pole Inn makes. Did you all get one today? I heard they disappeared faster than a line of ants backstage at an Ozzy Osborne concert. If you missed your chance, come back next week or head on over to the North Pole Inn and ask for Bernie. I’m certain she has another legendary batch whipped up and at the ready. North Pole, New York!”

I called into the group, which was met by screaming and cheering.

“Are you ready to find out which lucky listener has been nominated by the Holiday Elves as the first Scrooge of the Year? Now my elves have told me that our first Holiday Scrooge is having some car troubles which has really made her holiday season a real drag. Many of you may have experienced the effects of those car troubles if you were anywhere in the vicinity of Snowflake and Adirondack yesterday. Marley Jacobs! Are you still in the audience?”

4

Ihad to be in some kind of bad dream sequence. Or maybe someone spiked my hot cocoa. Because there was no way in Hades my name had actually just been called. I refused to acknowledge that everyone was turning and staring at me and clapping and smiling and signaling that I should be wailing towards the stage. What the fork was that about? The North Pole Scrooge? Was this some kind of joke. Was I being Punked? WasPunkedeven still around? I honestly couldn’t remember the last time anyone mentioned Ashton Kutcher. Hmm, I wonder if him and Mila Kunis are still together. Did they just have the one kid together, or did they have more? Dang it!Focus Marley.

Sexton, the town’s reindeer handler stood next to me, playfully shoving me towards the stage. I had to be dreaming. This was my worst nightmare. I was not a “standing in front of large crowds” kind of person.

“Marley!” I heard Bear and Raven calling from the stage. “Is she still here?” Bear asked, “I saw her here earlier. Did she go home already?”

Why would he mention me breaking down in the turn lane last night? Was this retaliation because I gave him my wet costume? Or because his pompous self couldn’t have a costume immediately upon his demands? I made it up the steps of the stage without tripping, thank goodness for small favors, where Raven grabbed my hand and situated me in between the two of them.

Is it normal for people’s ears to start ringing in response to this level of embarrassment? I swear my hearing went, my sight went soft at the corners, I felt like I was being roasted in the seventh circle of hell, but also could feel cold sweat sliding down my back.

“So, Marley,” Raven asked, “introduce yourself? Let everyone get to know you a little bit.”

“Umm…” What was I supposed to say? It isn’t like I had a speech prepared just in case someone wants to make my worst nightmare a reality. “I work at the costume shop with Winnie Snow.”

“Okay, anything else you want to share?” Raven asked, eyebrows raised as if to signal me I didn’t provide nearly enough information to her liking.

“I’m twenty-seven? I used to love Christmas.”

“Used to?” Raven pressed.

“That sounds like a Scrooge if I’ve ever heard it,” Bear interjected; his observation met by a lot of agreement from the audience. I think I would have preferred an asteroid ending earth entirely to standing up there for a second longer.

“What’s this about your car breaking down yesterday?” Raven continued.

“In the turn lane, during rush hour. I’m really sorry everyone.”

“Well Marley, we’re going to fix your car for you! Our Holiday Elves will get in contact with you on Monday and arrange all the details. We hope that this little bit of help from our magic makers repairs your relationship with Christmas. What do you say everyone? Let’s give Marley a round of applause!”

Bear drew a circle in the air and the crowd went wild for him. Him and that stupid sexy rocker thing he was working right now, every lady in the audience was drooling. They weren’t even cheering for me. They were probably hoping the button on his pants would pop and they’d all get a free show. He was about to get a piece of my mind, and honestly it was going to be the biggest piece imaginable.

5

Iexited the stage with two women hot on my heels. Now, if I were still working at The Skull, this story would have gone in the direction of a threesome in a barn somewhere, but alas I worked for wholesome radio now, and the two women hot on my heels were emoting plenty of things, ardor definitely was not one of them.

“You can’t just go and randomly pick winners on your own Bear!” Raven hissed, pulling my arm and yanking me into the “staging” area. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“That this show is supposed to be about helping people who need it, and she really needs help. She works at the costume shop I got the costumes at.” I tried to explain quickly and quietly before the person we were talking about came looking for an explanation. “She’s dead broke. Her boss almost fired her last night because her car was broken down a block from the shop and she had to walk in the snow to get to work where she was met by Winnie who read her the riot act. The poor girl burst into tears and told me her whole pitiable story. She had to take a third job just to pay for the repairs. We’re in the position of helping people, Raven, surely withtwelvepeople getting prizes, we can convince Rosenstein that we deserved to choose one live.”

I knew I’d won the argument before she even opened her mouth. She huffed a resigned sigh and said, “You know between getting roped into your bullshit, being stuck wearing this monstrosity all night,” she signaled down her body at her red and white plaid school marm get up, “and now getting blindsided in the middle of a live show, you owe me so huge Ted Tucker. Like tickets to Rock in Rio, huge.”

I knew better than to try to argue or bargain with Raven. Once she issued her ultimatum it was that or nothing at all.

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do.”

“That means you cover everything—flight, hotel, premium access tickets.”

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