pre-draft essay 4

Hamilton Marks, Jr.
Creative Nonfiction
Essay # 4
November 17, 2010

Santa Robbed A Christmas Cheer

The streets were isolated, as the heavy downpour invades the frigid December afternoon. The mood and feeling and of Christmas jingles the air, only indoors, whilst the snow appropriated its timing. Children stray away from their customary ply of making snow-angles and snow-fights but opted to eggnogs and singing along to Christmas carols. The trees and vehicles were cover in snow. The roads were wet and slippery as an effect to the snowing. Newark being a popular and populous city, it became astonishing to see the streets clear with only few automobiles moving here and there. The usual car theft and hustling were halted. The drug dealings and robberies seemed to have been postponed, - or has it?
Minutes before the coming of the snow, I felt urged to spend the Christmas with my friend Matthew. Matthew was the first person I became acquainted with on my first day of high school in America. As Africans, my family way of celebrating Christmas totally contrasted the way American families celebrated. We’d become so uncaring that we do not purchase and exchange gifts. No cards or eggnogs or even a Christmas tree. My parents prefer to feat on a huge goat or foul-chicken and drink the night away to dry gin or herbal roots.
Picking up more of an American way to celebrating the holidays, I found my house dried and boring. Sleep soon invaded the perimeter as full stomachs became feeble to a nap and strong eyes grew weary. The only attention grabber was the 60in Panasonic television that sat by the window in the living room, broadcasting Law and Order: the TNT crime drama. The episode was one I hadn’t seen. However, I needed to be amongst people who enjoyed the festivities of Christmas in an American sense. William my highs school friend and current best friend lived not too far from my house. Thus I thought to give him a ring. Upon his enthusiastically jubilant approval, I headed to his house.
Hanging on the door was a large picture of Jolly ol’ Mr. Cringle and colorful decorated lights of red, blue, green and yellow. I entered the house to the sound of Nat King Cole: “Chestnuts roasting o an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose, Yuletide carols being sung by a choir, And folks dressed up like Eskimos. Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe, help to make the season bright, Tiny tots with their eyes all a-glow, will find it hard to sleep tonight. They know that Santa’s on his way, He’s loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh, And every mother’s child is gonna spy, To see if reindeer really know how to fly. And so im offering this simple phrase, to kids from one to ninety-two, Although it’s been said, many times, many ways, merry Christmas to you. ”
Eggnogs and candy canes were at hand and in sight. A huge, luminous Christmas tree with peak ornaments of Christ the infant and Christ the adult radiate by the window. William two younger sisters, Lisa and Winell continuously sang along to the radio all the carols that played. Their singing must have been stimulated by the sugary rush from the candy canes as they weren’t allowed to consume eggnogs which had been induced with a percentage of alcohol.
“William I need you to get me some stuff from the corner store. Here take this – and be careful” his mother said. Saying he will be back in a flash, he left me in the living room with a plate of macaroni salad and a cocktail. As he told everyone in a surprisingly calm tone; “I just got robbed.” On his way back from the corner store, he encountered a burgundy Oldsmobile that at first slowly passed him. The vehicle came back for the second time, this instance asking for direction. With caution, he stood from a far and announced direction to the required destination. The driver left with what William thought was an intention of getting to their destination.
Surprisingly, the Oldsmobile driver came back for the third time asking for detailed direction to their destination. Haven spoken to him twice but only from a far, William felt comfortable enough to approach the vehicle. His bravery soon became unfortunate. Two guys came out of the Oldsmobile baring arms, asking William to give up any money he had. Unresistingly he obliged, fearing that he might be injured or even killed.
They took his money, watch, and groceries he had purchased for his mother. Ruthless and unsatisfied with what they had taken from him, they violently beat him down to the snow while he laid screaming and crying. After inflicting on him immeasurable amount of pain they ran into the car in order to quickly drive away. As the engine revs, one of the robbers yelled to William, MERRY CHRITSMAS NIGGA then drove off laughing.
As he was telling his family the story, I couldn’t help but reflect on a similar incident that occurred with me. I came from the club at 3 in the morning. Attempting to open my door, a man came from behind me holding a gun. He asked for money which I quickly give him. The he walked away as if nothing transpired.
William story is a testament to what living in a city as disturbed and poverty stricken as Newark has in store. One can fall victim anytime, even on a glorious and tranquil holiday such a Christmas. With the drug and crime rate soaring to towering heights, nothing and no one is untouchable. However, it is important to always try to obtain the good from any or every bad situation. Thus through it all, we give God the Glory. His will shall be done.