Ever did indeed find Bruce in the opulent house on Butler St; it took him a while to locate him, though. The apprentice reaper breezed over the swimming pool that had been drained for the winter. Looking up, he could see people moving about upstairs, so that’s where he started.

  The first room had the youngest boy. His eyes were glassier than the wide screen he was staring at. There was a screech of frustration down the hall. Ever instinctively dodged a device that was thrown at the wall he just passed through. The first boy’s older brother presumably, though he didn’t act like it. The last room was for the eldest sister who, like her siblings, was spending more time on a device than with her family. At least she seemed to be speaking with other people.

  Ever sunk down through the lush, cream-colored carpet to the ground floor, right into the living room. The adults sat together, but still apart. Like their daughter, each was on their own phone. Ever couldn’t help but peek at their screens. He was heartened to see that while they weren’t talking to each other, they at least were on the same app, swiping right and left on pictures of good-looking people.

  “Hello there.”

  Ever turned to where a young spectre floated, next to the ten foot Christmas tree.

  “Hi,” Ever said, before adding, “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you too, sir.”

  Ever ebbed away from the adults. He sent the scythe away, which the ghost of the boy watched as it coasted to the corner of the room.

  “Are you Bruce?”

  “Yes sir. How did you know?”

  Ever crouched down so that he was eye to eye with the boy. “I’ve got a friend who told me that you’ve been waiting for Christmas to come around.”

  Bruce’s translucent eyes lit up as much as those of a ghost could. “Is your friend Santa?”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “He might be,” Ever smiled.

  That was good enough for Bruce. The boy hugged himself as tight as he could, his face puckered with excitement.

  “I haven’t written him a letter, though,” he said, pure joy fading slightly.

  “If you tell me what you want, I might be able to pass on the message.”

  “Well…” Bruce said, “Before there was this house, I lived in a bigger one that had a group of boys and girls like me who didn’t have parents. I had a friend who left a really, really long time ago. I’ve been waiting for someone to celebrate Christmas with me since.”

  From the corner of his eye, Ever saw the scythe turn blade-side towards them, almost as if it was listening to their conversation. With a nod, the tool flew back towards Ever right into his outstretched hand.

  “I’d be happy to celebrate Christmas with you,” Ever said. “I even have a present ready.”

  “Really?” Bruce said, hands balled into little fists of wonder under his face.

  Ever barely had to bring up the menu; it seemed like the scythe was as excited as Bruce was:

  SENSES

  Hearing

  Smell

  Touch

  Sight

  Taste

  Hmmm… Ever pondered. What senses do friendships engage? With the gift in mind, he selected “Touch” and “Sight”, hoping for the best.

  The scythe agreed right away. It shrunk to the shape of a wide baton, alight with reaping magic before falling into the boy’s hand.

  “This is…” Bruce asked.

  “A Christmas cracker,” Ever answered. “We each hold an end and pull. If you get the bigger part, you win.”

  “What do I win?”

  “Well the prizes are inside.”

  “What are they?”

  “Win and then you’ll see.”

  “Alright then.”

  Ever took one end of the cracker. “I’ll count down from three. After we get to ‘one’, pull as hard as you can.” Bruce nodded, face serious.

  “Three, two, one…”