The Christmas bonus

By Bernie Ha

When Allan set out on his bike, he little knew that he was about to begin the most extraordinary evening of his life.

He cycled slowly along the quiet tree-lined road, humming to himself. He had reason to be happy. At 23 years of age, he had a job he liked in a computer firm and right then he carried in his pocket his first bonus- his Christmas bonus, not all of it, of course, for he had bought gifts for his parents, but there was enough to indulge himself. He knew exactly what he was going to buy - a glorious, exorbitantly expensive shirt he had seen in the town’s department store. Made of a rich butter-coloured linen, it had a dashing crimson band down the left side and matching crimson flecks on the collar and cuffs. It was the kind of shirt that male models wore. He would wear it to church on Christmas day and then to the New Year’s Eve office party. He smiled boyishly as he thought of the admiring looks of the girls.

On his right, there were houses set far back from the road, one of which was a dilapidated little house occupied by some newcomers- a young widow and her two small children.

Allan could see her now in the front yard bending down trying to lift a potted plant. He got off his bicycle and walked towards her. “Let me do that, ma’am,” he said, “that pot is too heavy for you.” The woman straightened up with a grateful smile and Allan took the potted plant inside and placed it beside a table. He couldn’t help noticing that the place though spotlessly clean was sparsely furnished. A little girl playing with a ragged doll looked up at him and smiled shyly. A slightly older boy peeped at him from behind a curtain.

Politely refusing the offer of a cup of tea, Allan went on his way, but he couldn’t get what he had seen out of his mind - the wan-faced woman, the pinched faces of the children, the drab little room with the tattered curtains. But somehow to him the most pathetic was a small Christmas tree he had seen on a side table. The ‘ornaments’ decorating it were crumpled pieces of tinfoil tied with a string. He thought of the tree at home. It was a very tall tree, decorated with a wide variety of ornaments his mother had collected over the years. There were multi-coloured baubles of all sizes, clusters of tiny bells tied with ribbon, sprigs of holly and garlands of tinsel. The string of Christmas lights was lightly wound round the branches and right on top was placed a large golden star to represent the Star of Bethlehem. When the Christmas lights were switched on in the evening, the glowing tree brightened the entire sitting room.

It was quite dark when Allan reached the town. He locked the bicycle and ran up the steps of the department store. With a thrill of anticipation he was making a beeline for the staircase that led to the men’s wear section, when straight ahead of him, he saw a tall rack full of toys.

Slowly Allan walked towards it and looking up, gazed into the blue eyes of the largest, prettiest doll he had ever seen; a riot of blonde curls framed a pink-cheeked face. Wearing a ‘party dress’ with matching shows and socks, she was a little girl’ s dream.

“She’s a sleeping doll, Sir,” said a salesgirl who had suddenly materialised before him. “She also speaks a few words and sings a song.” She took the doll down from the high shelf. The price on the box was astronomical.

“I’ll take her,’’ he heard himself say. When the salesgirl ran off to get a large shopping bag...... he heard a voice inside his head demanding, “What do you think you are doing?” He stood still for a moment, biting his lip, then, the boy, he thought, the boy should have something equally fine.

On the next rack were rows of teddy bears. One with a benign expression on its face caught his eye. Its cuddly body was covered with soft golden brown fur - a bear to warm a little boy’s heart and to warm a little boy’s bed. He reached out for it. “There goes your precious shirt,” said the voice derisively. Trying to shut it out, he strode purposefully to the confectionery section. There should be something that the whole family can enjoy- the mother as well as the children. He picked out a big box of assorted chocolates - the kinds whose centres were filled with fruit and nuts and other delicacies.

But there was something else, something very important he had to get to complete his purchases. Ah, here it was, the showcase of Christmas tree ornaments. He scanned the shelves and took out a box of small baubles. Each the size of a marble, they glowed through the cellophane - red, green, blue, magenta, silver and gold. They would give a festive air to the little tree,

When he was settling the bill at the counter, the voice spoke once more - quietly, sensibly. “Just who do you think you are? “it said, “it’s not as if you are rolling in wealth!”

He left the store carrying the outsize bag and was tying it securely to the bicycle when some other words came into his mind: “Give of your lack and not of your plenty.” Where had he heard those words or maybe he had read them somewhere... No matter, he had to reach the little house before the lights were switched off.

Arriving at the place, Allan carried the bags to the door. At his second knock the door opened a crack. “Who’s there?” He placed the bag on the ground near the door. “Merry Christmas,” he said and melted into the shadows.

He wheeled the bicycle to the road and paused. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t possibly go home empty-handed. His mother would be waiting up for him and she would be very upset to find that he had bought nothing for himself.

He still had a little money left to buy a locally-made shirt- the durable wash n’wear kind his mother had been able to afford on his father’s modest salary. It was too late to go back to town. Then he remem- bered that a new shop had opened on a side road nearby. He’d heard that the clothes were very reasonably priced.

To his relief the shop was still open and brightly lit. Inside he found that he was the only customer. A salesman greeted him and indicated racks full of shirts to his right. But now that he was here he thought he’d take a look round before he made his selection. There were lots of men’s wear items- ties, footwear and wrist watches. On the left there was a large cupboard set into the wall itself, with a notice in large letters - “Exclusive for the Season.” Allan walked over and saw that these shirts had been unfolded and put on hangers for better display. Each was carefully encased in a clear polythene bag, Allan idly moved the shirts aside one by one and then his heart lurched, for among them was the shirt he had longed to buy. He took out the hanger and looked at it. The crimson band gleamed brightly against the creamy background. He was feeling the rich texture of the material when someone spoke. “Do you like this shirt, young Sir?” Turning he saw a tall well-dressed man whom he took to be the Manager.

“Er yes,” he said “but......” Before he could say that he had no intention of buying it, the Manager interrupted him. “We opened only a couple of months ago,” he said. “Our records indicated that you are the thousandth customer to enter this shop. That is something special. So we have decided to give a 50 per cent discount on your purchases and another 10 percent discount as the Season’s goodwill. So if you can pay the balance? he paused inquiringly. Allan gulped, “Yes,” he said huskily, “I can do that.”

“Then let’s close the deal since it’s nearly midnight and we have to close the shop.” Allan settled the bill and a salesman handed him his shirt in a gift bag, “Merry Christmas!” he said.

Allan stumbled out of the shop in a daze. Out on the road his bike took wings, the wheels hardly touched the ground. There was something here that he couldn’t understand. Words like ‘coincidence’ didn’t quite apply to what had happened. He got off the bike and sat on the grassy roadside to think matters over. Looking back at the events of the evening, he found that two things stood out. He had gone to the department store to buy a special shirt, he had come out having given up all hopes of ever owning it, but within an hour, against all odds, the shirt was in his possession. How did that happen?

He looked up at the inky black sky in which a few scattered stars still twinkled. He had given of his lack he thought, and Someone up there had smiled approval.