Tọlá Belva

Curled up in bed and wrapped snugly in his blanket, Jason snored peacefully, a faint smile playing on his lips as the soft glow of Christmas lights flickered through the window, casting a tranquil light across his face.

In the realm of his dreams, Jason found himself in the heart of a cozy bistro, nestled against the window as twinkling lights danced across the walls. The air was rich with the scent of roasting meats and freshly baked bread, and all around him, festive garlands adorned every surface, while a Christmas tree shimmered merrily in the corner, its lights reflecting the spirit of the season. The air hummed softly with carols, filling the room with warmth and joy. Before him, a steaming bowl of turkey stew sat, its rich aroma blending with the scent of roasted garlic, sage, and cinnamon. Beside it, a plate of golden, flaky biscuits and mashed sweet potatoes sprinkled with nutmeg awaited his first bite.

As he lifted his spoon, ready to indulge, a sudden, harsh buzzing shattered the serene moment. He swatted at the sound in his sleep, striking his cheek, and jolted awake with a start.

Blinking into the half-light of his room, Jason groaned as reality settled in. His beautiful feast had been a mere illusion, vanishing like mist. The shrill buzz of his old Motorola flip-phone echoed through the room, the time flashing 3:58 AM. Outside, snow fell in thick, soft flakes, blanketing the world in pure white. The streetlights shimmered off the snow-covered streets, casting an ethereal glow across the quiet neighborhood.

Rubbing his eyes and stretching lazily, Jason muttered under his breath about the mosquito that had ruined his dream. “Guess it’s time to get up,” he sighed, remembering his grim reality. This year’s Christmas was another workday. And it wasn’t by choice. The customer service center where Jason worked operated 24/7, even on holidays, keeping the world’s gears turning. After a series of tardiness the week before, his supervisor had decided that this year, Jason would be on duty—both as a punishment and a reminder to “step up his game.”

Jason grew up in the lap of luxury, surrounded by the opulence of his parents’ sprawling estate. With its marble countertops and roaring fireplaces, their home could have been the epitome of comfort. Yet, despite the wealth and security, Jason longed for more independence. Seeking a life of his own, he moved into a modest apartment, determined to carve his own path. He was saving for college, all the while dreaming of one day owning a sun-drenched art studio where his brushes could bring his vibrant visions to life and his spirit could soar with every stroke.

His father, of course, didn’t understand his decision. Each visit home was an uncomfortable affair, marked by quiet judgments—his father’s eyes scanning Jason’s lean frame, his lips pressed thin in disapproval. “You don’t have to do this, son,” he’d say, sliding a check across the table, a silent plea. “Take this, just to make things easier.” Jason would always decline— the sting of his father’s disappointment leaving a quiet ache in his chest.

And then there was his mother, whose worry came in a different form, always laced with food. “Jason, you’re so thin! Are you eating enough? Don’t skip meals!” she’d demand, piling his plate with turkey and stuffing, never accepting the answer she didn’t want to hear.

Aunt Tessy, however, was the real storm. Every Christmas, she found joy in belittling Jason’s choices, her comparisons to her son, Oliver, relentless. “Don’t you think it’s time to let go of those paints, darling? Oliver just bought a second home. He’s an orthopedic surgeon, you know.” Her words would sting, and the knowing glances exchanged around the table only made it worse.

This year, however, Jason found solace in the quiet hum of the customer service center. It was a place where he could escape the pressure, the judgment, and the constant need to defend his dreams. No Aunt Tessy to criticize him this time, no worried glances from his mother, and certainly no heavy sighs from his father. Just the soft buzz of computers and the occasional chime of a call—a world that was his own.

Grabbing his towel, soap, and trusty bucket of water, Jason stepped outside into the frosty morning air. The bathroom in the backyard, functional but without running water, had become a daily ritual. The cold bit at his skin, but the untouched snow beneath his feet was beautiful in its stillness, every step a crunch in the pristine silence. The world around him seemed suspended in time, the occasional sound of ice cracking in the trees, a reminder that nature was quietly waking up.

As he passed by Mr. Johnson, his neighbor, scraping frost off his motorcycle, Jason waved.

“Merry Christmas, Jason!” Mr. Johnson called out with a friendly grin.

“Merry Christmas!” Jason replied, his voice a little softer, a little more forced in the chill of the morning.

The bathroom was luckily unoccupied, and Jason hurried through his routine, the cold water jolting him awake. When he emerged minutes later, he was dressed for the day in a neat outfit—black trousers, a jacket, and a red scarf to add a festive touch to his otherwise modest look.

As he made his way to the bus stop, the crisp snow crunched beneath his feet. The scent of wood smoke filled the air, mingling with the fresh pine of wreaths adorning neighborhood doors. Christmas lights twinkled from every home, and faint voices of holiday singers echoed down the block, singing “Silent Night.”

But his brief moment of festive peace was shattered when he saw Crazy Tom sitting on a snow-covered bench, gnawing on what looked like an old, tattered glove. Tom, in his mismatched layers and a halo of tinsel, looked up at him with a wild grin. “Good morning, soldier! Ready to plunge into the madness of Christmas joy?”

Jason couldn’t help but smirk. “Sure, General. Stay warm out here.”

Tom saluted stiffly, returning to his odd breakfast with a muttered phrase about guarding Santa’s secrets.

Jason climbed aboard the bus as it arrived, shedding the snow from his shoes and handing the driver his fare. The warmth inside was a welcome relief. He settled by the window, watching the streets pass by, the neighborhood stirring to life as Christmas preparations began.

When he arrived at work before sunrise, the snow-covered entrance sparkled in the soft glow of the string lights around the trees. But as Jason patted his pockets for the key to the building, his stomach dropped. The key was missing!

Jason worked two jobs at the same office to make ends meet: by day, he was a customer service representative handling calls and complaints, and by night, he worked part-time as a security guard, ensuring the building was secure. The company allowed him to pick up the late-night shifts, giving him a key— a responsibility he never took lightly.

His heart raced as he retraced his steps, scanning the snow-covered ground in desperation. His stomach twisted with the thought of his boss’s reaction. He had to find the key.

Frantically, he rushed back to the bus stop, his breath coming faster, the snow crunching underfoot like the beat of his pulse. Then, he heard a voice behind him.

“Looking for this?”

Turning quickly, Jason found himself face-to-face with Tom, who held the key high, as if it were a trophy. His grin stretched impossibly wide.

Jason lunged toward Tom, his heart hammering. “Tom, give that back!”

Tom stepped back, holding the key out of reach, still grinning that wild, toothy smile. “Oh, I’ve got a better idea, soldier,” he said, his voice carrying a strange hint of playfulness. “Why don’t you make a deal with me?”

Jason’s frustration flared, but he took a deep breath. “What do you want, Tom? I’m in a rush here.” Tom’s eyes twinkled, and he twisted the key between his fingers like a magician toying with a prized possession. “I need a favor, Jason—just a little holiday kindness, you know? You’ve got an office to open, and I’ve got this key. How about we help each other out? A fair trade, right?”

Jason’s mind raced. He didn’t have time for this—he was already late for his shift, and the thought of explaining this mess to his boss made him feel sick. But then, looking at Tom’s scruffy face, a small part of Jason’s conscience stirred. He didn’t have to agree. He didn’t owe Tom anything. But something about the wild-eyed man with the tinsel halo made him pause. “What do you need?” Jason asked, exhausted.

Tom grinned wider, the edges of his lips curling into something almost mischievous.

“All I need is a hot meal. Something hearty, you know? None of those fancy snacks you guys have. Just something warm that makes the belly feel good. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Jason hesitated. The idea of sharing a meal with Crazy Tom—who, for all his eccentricities, had his own kind of charm—felt strange. But the thought of returning to the cold without the key was unbearable.

“Fine,” Jason said, his voice a little quieter now. “I’ll get you something. Just… don’t go anywhere with the key, alright?”

Tom nodded solemnly, though his grin never wavered. “You’ve got a deal, soldier. One warm meal coming up.”

With a last lingering glance at Tom, Jason turned and headed toward the restaurant. The sound of the wind and the soft crunch of his boots on the snow was drowned out by his thoughts as he walked, weighing his options.

Jason trudged through the snow, the cold biting at his face as he made his way to the restaurant. His thoughts were a mix of annoyance and curiosity about Tom’s strange request. What kind of deal was Tom asking for? A hot meal? It seemed harmless enough, but Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being played.

The restaurant was only a few blocks away, but it felt farther as he kept glancing over his shoulder. Was Tom really going to keep his end of the bargain? Would he return the key? Or would this odd Christmas morning become the start of something Jason wouldn’t be able to undo?

When he reached the restaurant, the warm light spilling out from the windows felt like a sanctuary. Jason stepped inside, the bell above the door chiming as he entered. The usual hum of the place was comforting—clinks of coffee cups, low chatter, the sizzle of the grill.

Behind the counter, Betty, the elderly waitress with a fixed smile, gave him a knowing look. “Back again, huh, Jason? Are you in for your usual? Or something special today?”

Jason managed a tired smile. “Just something quick, Betty. A big plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. And… I’ll take a side of sausage, too. Please.”

Betty raised an eyebrow but didn’t question him. “Coming right up. You’re not the only one needing a hot breakfast today.”

As she went to work, Jason couldn’t help but wonder who else Betty had been serving on Christmas morning. He didn’t have time for deep thoughts. His mind kept drifting back to Tom, who was probably still sitting at the bus stop, waiting for his meal. Jason had promised, and there was no turning back now.

When Betty set down the plate, Jason paid with a quick glance at his watch—time was slipping away. He packed up the meal quickly, balancing the steaming tray with one hand and holding the key tightly in his other.

As he stepped out into the cold again, the snow seemed heavier, as though the world was pressing down on him. Every step felt like a weight on his shoulders. Jason didn’t know what he expected from Tom, but he certainly wasn’t ready for the surreal moment he walked back to the bench where he’d left him.

Tom was there, sitting cross-legged, his hands folded in his lap, and his eyes wide with expectation. The strange halo of tinsel shimmered in the glow of the streetlight, but it was his expression that caught Jason’s attention—a mix of joy and quiet anticipation.

“Got something for you, soldier,” Jason said, holding out the hot meal, still warm from the restaurant.

Tom’s grin spread from ear to ear as he took the meal, cradling it in his hands like a treasure. “You came through, Jason. That’s the Christmas spirit I’ve been waiting for. You’re a good man.”

Jason didn’t know what to say, his hands suddenly empty now that he’d fulfilled his strange promise. “Just give me the key,” he muttered, watching Tom carefully. “It’s all I need.”

With a deliberate slowness, Tom held out the key, handing it over with a flourish. “The key to your future, my friend,” he said with a wink.

Jason took it, feeling an odd relief wash over him. The situation was absurd, but the key was back in his hands, and it meant he could finally open the office door.

Before Jason could respond, Tom stood up and brushed the snow off his pants. “You know, Jason,” he said thoughtfully, his grin softening for a moment, “sometimes, all it takes is a little kindness to make the day worth it. Even on Christmas.”

Jason, still bewildered by the whole exchange, nodded slowly. “Yeah… maybe you’re right.”

Without another word, Tom turned and shuffled off into the snow, leaving Jason alone with the key in his hand and the strange warmth of their brief encounter lingering in the frosty morning air.

As Jason headed back toward the office building, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in a peaceful quiet. For the first time that day, he felt a small flicker of something close to hope. Maybe it wasn’t the Christmas he had imagined, but somehow, it had turned out to be something better.

The office door creaked open as he unlocked it, and Jason stepped inside, ready to face the day, the cold outside, and whatever strange adventure would come next.

And, as the hours ticked by in the quiet of the customer service center, Jason kept the holiday spirit alive in his heart. The streets outside were blanketed with snow, the lights twinkled on the houses, and even though he was alone, there was a warmth he carried with him—one that came not from the heat of a meal or the glow of Christmas lights, but from the simple act of helping a stranger in need. And as the day unfolded, as the bustle of Christmas carried on without him, Jason knew he had found something that mattered more than any holiday feast or gathering: a moment of connection. A simple, quiet Christmas gift.