#FlashFictionMagic: Candy Canes & Things

The red Christmas card envelope appeared on my desk at the rec center while I was in the bathroom. Aside from “Mr. S.” scrawled sloppily across the front, it was unmarked, leaving no clues as to who might have delivered it. As I absently tapped its corner against my desk, in flocked a group of our regular after-school visitors, clearly ready for Christmas Break. 

"Hey, Ricardo!" I addressed the thirteen-year-old boy in sweatpants with a Santa hat on his head and blue candy cane in his mouth. "I know you're not going to make me remind you of the rules on my last day." I had planned my final day of work to coincide with the kids’ last day of school so we could all start fresh with the new year. 

“Ooooh!” his buddies hooted, always happy to see someone else getting called out. 

Plucking a crinkled wrapper from his pocket, Ricardo gave a sheepish grin and tucked the bright blue candy away. "Sorry, I just wanted the chance to prove you wrong before you leave." 

"Oh yeah? About what?" 

"You said I'd get sick of blue raspberry. Never happened."

I laughed. “I still think the time will come.”   

“But you won’t be here to see it.” The downward turn of his blue-tinged mouth was brief, but I noticed. 

Ricardo’s friend, Jaymar, asked to sign out a basketball. When I went to grab it, I laid the envelope on the desk and Jaymar picked it up. 

“What is this, a love letter from your girlfriend?” 

“I haven’t opened it yet,” I said. 

“Well, why not?” Jaymar held the envelope up to the light and squinted. “Maybe there’s money in it. My grandma sent a card like that, and there was ten bucks inside.” 

“Come on, man,” Ricardo said, snatching the envelope away. “There could be somebody’s private thoughts in there.” 

“What do you care?” Jaymar said, as I handed him the ball. Shaking his head, he walked off toward the gym. 

Ricardo handed the envelope back to me. “My stepdad’s gonna be here any minute,” he said, glancing toward the glass exit doors. “I just came in to say bye.”  

“Well, I hope you won’t be too hard on the new guy.” I remembered the stuff Ricardo had tried to pull with me, the number of times I’d had to ask him to leave, and how many months it took for him to trust and respect me. We’d come a long way together. 

“If he’s cool, I won’t have to be.”  

“Well, let’s hope he’s at least as cool as I am.” 

“Did I say you were cool?” 

“Ouch, man.” I clutched my chest. “That hurts.” 

Ricardo just grinned.  A white sedan pulled up outside and he shouldered his backpack. I extended my hand to shake. “Good luck with everything.” 

“You too, Mr. S.” He lingered another second, almost like he wanted to say more, then turned tail and hustled out to meet his ride.

When he was gone, it was quiet except for the Carol of the Bells playing softly over the radio. Taking up the red envelope again, I slid my finger beneath the flap, and lifted gently. A laugh bubbled in my throat. The light streak of blue where the glue strip had been moistened told me exactly who had left the card.  

Back when I took this job, my roommate, Jake, said, "You're a glutton for punishment, signing on to deal with those kids.” There had been many difficult days when I’d agreed with him. 

But as I read Ricardo’s chicken-scratch message, filled with words like “awesome” and “mentor” and “miss you” my cup ran over not with suffering, but with gratitude for the best of all holiday gifts.