Days
and nights pass in a blur. The day he’s waited for is here. Krampus awakes to
the faint rays of the new dawn or what he can see of it filtering in through
the mouth of his cave. He stretches languidly, yawns, and rubs the sleepy seeds
from his eyes. Then the realization of what he must do hits him like a bolt of
lightning. He pops up as though he is an electrocuted jack-in-the-box sizzling
with energy. He strides to the cave entrance and takes a gander at the village
below. Tonight he will make his rounds. But first he must eat to bolster his
strength. It’s going to be a long night.
He
stirs the fire and a few embers begin to glow, so he adds a few slivers of
birch bark. They catch quickly and he feeds the fire with kindling. Soon he
adds a log and a cheery blaze leaps up. It makes strange images writhe and
dance on the walls of the cave. Krampus watches them intensely and what he sees
makes him do a double take. The same scene played out in his dreams last night.
It is an omen. He’s certain of it. It must be true. He stares in shock at what
he is viewing.
Willie
is stealing a small dog. It is a little girl’s beloved pet. The little girl is
Janie, his next door neighbor. Janie and her parents left the dog at home in
order to attend the Christmas service at their church. This makes Willie’s
theft easy. The boy stuffs the dog in a
shopping bag and casually leaves the house. He strolls down the street as
though he is a pious child on the way to church. He smiles and greets everyone
he meets. When he’s asked what he has in the bag, he says it’s a gift for a
friend. Before he reaches the church, he veers off the road and into the woods.
He pulls a long knife from a sheath hidden beneath his coat, roughly jerks the
wriggling, yelping dog from the bag, guts it, and promptly begins to filet it
like a fish. Krampus is disgusted and
appalled by the cruelty playing out before him, but he can’t stop watching. He
must know the full extent of the boy’s evil nature in order to understand how
to deal with him. Willie savagely crams dog parts and pieces into the bag
and scurries through the woods adjacent to the road. He remains back in the
trees just enough to avoid detection. When he comes abreast Janie’s house, he
peers out furtively and watches for a chance to dart across the street when no
one is coming. When it is safe, he makes a break for it. He slips back into the
house to dump the dog parts into its own dish making certain to place the head
on the top of the pile in the most grotesque fashion possible. Then he leaves
to dispose of the bloody bag. He smiles in smug satisfaction.
Krampus
knows that Willie needs the full treatment. There is no other way. For now,
though, he puts on a pot to boil for his porridge. It isn't going to slide down
as well as usual after what he’s witnessed. He can’t help hoping that the
dreams and the fire are wrong. As he stirs the pot, he whips his tail back and
forth in anger. After breakfast, he must gather his equipment, birch switches, chains,
bells, and a big burlap sack. He
ladles porridge into a wooden bowl and begins to eat.
He grumbles to himself
between mouthfuls of the gruel. “That boy is the worst case I’ve ever seen.
He’s every bit as horrible as I was and more. Look what I’ve turned into. What
to do? What to do?”
His
worries cause him to rub his chin whiskers with his bony, hairy fingers. Then
in frustration he pulls his hair, grabs his horns with his hands, and shakes
his head violently. It doesn't help. Nothing is clear. Everything is out of
focus, but focus he must. It is his job and it is for goodness sake. As much as
he likes to think otherwise, he is nothing more than a necessary evil. For what
is good without evil? If all that existed were good, where would free will
enter? No, choice is crucial in the grand scheme of life and it is his special
mission to change the heart and mind, if possible, of one boy on the wrong
track. St. Nicolas, an eternal optimist, hopes for a positive result in young
Willie’s life, but, of course, the choice is ultimately up to Willie. Krampus
is pessimistic after what he’s seen and he’s still not sure what to do. He
throws the porridge bowl at the cave wall. The remaining gruel slithers down
the wall in slimy brown streams. Krampus stomps over to take a look hoping that
the slime streams will somehow hold the answer he so desperately seeks. It
tells him nothing whatsoever. He throws up his hands in disappointment and
retreats to the back of the cave.
With
only a few short hours to go before liftoff, he begins gathering the tools of
his trade to drag outside and load into his black sleigh. He opens a beat-up,
old steamer trunk and removes his special red hat with white fur trim. Then he
grabs his red pants with the fancy suspenders and gives them a shake to take
out the wrinkles. They appear slightly moth-eaten from so many eons of use, but
they’ll do. He lifts a hairy left leg and crams it into the pants and then
stuffs in the other leg. He pulls the pants up around him being careful to pull
his long pointy tail out through the hole in the back and then struggles to get the straps up over his skinny shoulders. Lastly, he jams the hat
firmly on his head and he’s good to go. With cloven hooves, he needs no boots.
Sad, he’s been jealous for centuries over those black boots St. Nicolas wears.
He bends down and slowly picks up a mirror from the bottom of the trunk. He
raises it and cautiously glances. Gasp, the face in the mirror is horrifying.
Well, at least he is ready now.
Down
in the village, Willie is going about his day in an unusually happy mood. His
parents return from church and can’t help noticing it. His mother hopes that
the reason for his cheerfulness is because of Christmas and not because he’s
done something despicable. Her son’s past track record has proven that when he
is happiest someone else is sad or injured.
Father
stokes the wood fire while Mother begins to prepare the noon meal. She keeps a
wary eye on Willie in an effort to detect some sign that will give away the
cause of his apparent Christmas spirit. To the delight of his parents, the boy
actually offers to go outside to the woodshed to fill the kitchen wood-box. The
boy slips into his coat and goes out the door humming a merry tune. Mother
looks at Father as if to say, “What is going on here?” Father simply shrugs and goes back to his
work.
Willie
can wait no longer. Janie must be home by this time. He goes toward the
woodshed and turns to see if his mother is watching from the kitchen window.
Sure enough, there she is. He waves at her. She waves back. He tramps to the
shed and swings the door open in such a way as to obscure her view of him from
the window. Then he sneaks over to Janie’s house. The Hudson family is in all
right. He hears a blood curdling scream that makes him laugh. He must stop,
though. He doesn't plan on getting caught. Through the window in the door he
sees Janie sobbing and staring at what is left of her poor dead King Charles
Spaniel, Chauncey. For a brief moment in time, Willie feels a stab of guilt.
Perhaps he is not out for justice. Instead, it is possible that he is out to
hurt someone who doesn't deserve it. Maybe he is not an enforcer and not meant
to be. Just maybe that position should be held by a higher power, one who knows
the inner workings of the human psyche. His slender shoulders droop in shame,
but he still doesn't want to get caught. He shakes his head and convinces
himself that his sudden sense of remorse is not only foolish, but foolhardy. He
turns tail and trots off for home before his presence is detected. Once in the
woodshed, he quickly loads his arms high with seasoned wood and goes back
through the kitchen door.
Father
says, “My goodness, boy, that’s a big load you've got there.”
“Yup
and I’ll make a few more trips, too,” Willie declares good-naturedly.
“That’s
wonderful, but hurry along, son. Lunch is almost ready,” Mother states.
Willie
notices that Mother is staring at his coat. Then he meets her eyes, those dark
penetrating eyes that bore into his soul. Mother is frowning as though she is
both angry and perplexed. Willie’s face flushes crimson red, but he rushes out
the door. He makes three more wood runs and when he returns nothing more is
mentioned. As he takes off his coat and hangs it on the peg by the door, he
sees what Mother was looking at. His heart sinks. There for all and any who
care to see is an ugly telltale blood stain. He eats his noon meal in silence
and hopes for the best as his parents make small talk mostly about the
Christmas service. For the rest of the day, he behaves like a model citizen.
That
evening, as Mother tucks him in, she asks, “Do you remember what day tomorrow
is?”
“Of
course, Mamma, it’s Christmas.”
“I
suppose you are looking forward to Christmas morning and expect lots of gifts,”
she says softly.
“Oh,
yes, I do. I've been a good boy.”
“Do
you have something you’d like to say before prayers tonight?”
“Yes,
Mamma,” Willie replies sweetly.
Willie
could see hope rising in Mother’s face. She asks, “What would you like to tell
me?”
Willie
pauses to think for a second then blurts, “Please don’t forget to hang my
stocking.”
Mother
sighs. She listens as he says his prayers and leaves the room looking as though
she’s fought a war and been defeated.
Willie
settles down and quickly falls to sleep.
Krampus
loads the sleigh and tries to whistle for a reindeer. Whistling isn't easy for
a creature with a lolling, drooling, red tongue, but he manages as best he can.
One reindeer is enough. It’s not as
though he’s delivering toys. He’s delivering something not weighed or measured.
It’s called justice. The reindeer (a loaner from St. Nicolas) flies in and
Krampus harnesses him to the sleigh. He fastens bells to the bridle and climbs
in. He cracks his whip and the reindeer leaps for the sky. St. Nicolas provided
Krampus with a schedule and a map so they will not collide or go to the same
house at the same time. He urges the reindeer on and soon they descend at the
first stop of their long night. They land on the roof of the house and Krampus
gets out of the sleigh taking a birch branch
with him, then shimmies down the chimney like a snake. He enters the
bedroom of a naughty girl-child who looks around seven or eight years old. She
is sleeping soundly. Krampus sneaks to the bed and gives the girl a gentle
shake. Her eyelids flutter like butterfly wings. Then as she opens her eyes,
Krampus clamps a hairy hand over her mouth so she can’t scream.
He
says, “Hello, little girl. St. Nicolas tells me that your name is Clarissa and
that your name is at the top of the naughty list this year. Do you know what
happens to bad little girls?”
He
doesn't remove his hand from her mouth, so all she can do in reply to his
question is shake her head in the negative.
He
drools and then continues, “I’ll tell you exactly what happens to them. They
get a whipping with a birch branch. That’s what happens to them.”
He
pulls the blankets back and gives the girl three solid whacks with the birch
branch without ever lifting his hairy hand from the child’s mouth.
He
sternly admonishes, “I am going to remove my hand, but if you raise your voice
beyond a whisper, you’ll get three more whacks harder than the first three. Do
you understand?”
The
girl nods her head vigorously.
He
takes his hand away and says, “In the morning you will find a lump of coal in
your stocking and nothing more. Be a good child next year and St. Nicolas will
bring you a lovely gift.”
“I
will be good next year, Sir,” Clarissa promises solemnly.
“Very
well, I shall be on my way now,” says Krampus as he stealthily slips into the hall
and down the stairs.
Then
he heads for the chimney and wriggles and squirms his way back up to the roof.
The same scenario is repeated countless times during the course of the night.
He meets virtually no resistance. The minor offenders are easily convinced to
turn over a new leaf in the coming year. One or two require a little more
effort, but it’s no big deal for a scary, demonic looking being like Krampus.
All he needs to do his brandish his birch branches about, flick his tail like
an angry cat, and let a little drool fly. It works like a charm. He is always careful not to do any real harm
to the children and to leave behind the lumps of coal they deserve.
Krampus
saves the hardest case for last and almost wishes he’d gone to Willie’s house
first while he still had plenty of energy. He lands and this time in the front
yard. He purposely chooses not to go down the chimney. Instead, he opts to
knock on the front door. He raps and waits. He hears someone coming down
the stairs. The door opens and there stands the pint sized problem that looks
like a chubby cherub in red plaid pajamas. But this is no angel. The boy’s eyes
widen in terror at the sight of the creature; but before he can scream, Krampus
grabs him.
“If
you scream, things will only get worse,” says Krampus and sneers an ugly,
drooling sneer.
He
tosses the boy over his shoulder and dashes to the sleigh where he stuffs
Willie into the large burlap sack. In one giant jump, Krampus is in the sleigh
and cracks his whip across the reindeer’s rump. The reindeer leaps skyward and
they are off.
Krampus
hollers over the biting, howling wind, “To the cave!”
The
reindeer makes a skillful turn in the correct direction as though he has an
internal GPS system. He rockets to the cave in record time and skids in with an
abrupt thud. It is a rough landing with purpose. The purpose is to give the
unhappy cargo an added scare. Krampus thanks the reindeer and methodically
unharnesses him from the sleigh. Then he feeds him a hearty meal of an oat and
molasses mixture. After the animal finishes with that, Krampus gives him some
water, a few fresh carrots, and bids him farewell. The reindeer nuzzles his
friend and then is off on the return flight to his master, St. Nicolas.
By
now, Willie is weeping and wailing wildly inside of the scratchy sack, but it
doesn't do him much good. Krampus is in no mood to hurry. He takes his sweet
time unloading the sleigh saving the burlap sack for last. With a heave he
throws the sack on the hard, cold ground and begins dragging it into the dank,
smelly cave. Willie’s wailing increases in intensity. Once inside, Krampus builds a roaring fire and
then takes off his garments to store in the steamer trunk. He also places his
tools of torment in the trunk leaving only the heavy chain outside. He stoops
down to pick up the chain, sighs and returns to where the shrieking sack is
flopping and rolling ever closer toward the fire. He jerks the sack back before
a spark ignites it, snarls savagely, rips the burlap open with his sharp claws,
and unceremoniously dumps the boy onto the rock floor. The boy sits in cowed
silence before the beast.
Krampus
roars, “This is the only intelligent move you've made in your entire miserable existence.”
The
wide-eyed Willie asks, “Whatever do you mean?”
“You
do not ask the questions, Willie. You are here to listen and learn. Then you
will be granted a choice of two roads. Choose well.”
Krampus
steps forward, grasps the boy and places him in chains. The blazing fire casts
an eerie glow on the cave walls and Willie trembles in terror.
Willie
stammers as he speaks, “S-s-sir, I know you s-s-said I c-c-couldn't ask
questions, but w-who are y-y-you and w-w-why am I here in this horrible place on
C-C-Christmas Eve?”
“You
are here because you are on the naughty list. In fact, you are a special case.
St. Nicolas is sorely displeased with your behavior. I am sent to punish you
for your misdeeds and to present you with an ultimatum so to speak. Do you
understand what that means?”
“I
think so. It means either I do what’s right or else. Is that it?”
“Yes,
Willie that is correct.”
Willie
hesitates and then asks, “You said you’re supposed to punish me and give me
that whatchamacallit ultimatum, but you still didn't tell me who you are. Who
are you?”
“I
am Krampus. I was once a boy like you.”
“How
can that be? You’re a hairy beast. How could you have been a human boy? I don’t
believe you,” Willie states in an effort to sound courageous.
“Suit
yourself, but it is true nonetheless. I was a wicked little boy who didn't obey
his parents. Over time, I waxed worse and worse until I had no respect or mercy
for man or beast. I was given many opportunities to change, but I refused.
Finally, I was given an ultimatum just like you. I chose unwisely, so I was
turned into this,” he says pointing a hairy finger at his own hairy chest.
“I
supposed this is the part where I am given the chance to either change or turn
into a gross creature like you,” says Willie with every ounce of bravery he can
muster.
“You
will be given that gift at the proper time, but for now we shall review your
bad behavior of the last year.”
Krampus
snaps his fingers and points at the fire. The flames flicker and from them a
voice speaks like thunder. It reminds Willie of the voice in the burning bush
that spoke to Moses in the story his mother read to him from the Bible. This
voice is reciting every mean and rotten thing he did over the year. Then it
reveals every evil thought that he entertained in his mind. The boy turns his
face in shame.
When,
at last the voice from the fire finishes speaking, Krampus says with
compassion, “We are much alike, you and I. I, too, convinced myself that I was
an enforcer of universal justice. It was a lie. I was a brat who thought
everything should go his way. When it didn't, I sought revenge. Since I chose
to continue down that road, I was transformed into what I was at heart, a
beast. Now I must live in this cave and once a year I mete out a justice of
sorts to naughty children. I punish them for their own good in the hope that
the punishment will bring change. Mine is a pathetic life that will never end,
but it does have a purpose. There’s one more fact you should know. I am not
alone in this. There are others like me assigned to towns, villages, and cities
worldwide. If you choose unwisely, you will become as I am. You will be doomed
to follow in my footsteps down this sad road. But you, Willie, have the power
to choose your own destiny. What will it be? Will you choose to become a good,
obedient child or will you choose this?”
Willie
stares at the beast and then looks at his own hands. They are chubby and clean
now, but earlier they dripped with the blood of a little girl’s dog. He knew it
was terribly wrong, but he did it anyway. He begins to cry softly.
“I
am waiting to hear your answer,” Krampus declares.
Willie gulps and replies,“I
choose to be good, but I’m not sure I know how. I've been a bad boy for so
long. I think I make Mother very sad.”
“You've
made a wise choice, Willie. You will never regret it. Go home. Pray with your
mother and mean it from your heart. God will guide you to the path of
righteousness if you ask him sincerely.”
Willie
says in a faint voice, “ I am in chains. How can I go home? I don’t know the way.”
Krampus
answers “Close your eyes. Go to sleep. You've always known the way. When you
awake Christmas morning, it will be in your very own bed, your chains will be gone, and this nightmare
will be over.”
Krampus
smiles as the child closes his eyes. His work is finished.
The
End
