Every December Musea gets a bit misty for the season. Time again for a holiday reading issue with some "pulp lit" to enchant you and give you a pleasant reading break during this hectic time. Happy Holidays to you and your families!

MAGIC BAG

(loosely based on an old Twilight Zone episode)

Cal Doggett was an addle-brained, homeless drunk most of the time. His past life is a blur for him, so we'll forget it too.

On this December day, he was gazing up the brick wall in the alley of the old, boarded up Savings and Loan. Something had caught his better eye - a snowflake was falling. One, then another followed.

He muttered to himself out loud about it being another mean winter. His mind flashed to a sidewalk grate he knew where warm air rose up regularly. He must have said his memory out loud because the people around him turned - then turned away from the smell, the unkempt beard, the growly hoarse voice, the layers of clothes - all turning to some type of brown or grey.

Cal kept starring up - at nothing now. A mother walked by carrying a bag full of groceries in her left arm, and holding the hand of her little boy in the right, his free hand stuck in his mouth, with chocolate all around it. Bouncing around them like a planet in orbit, was a slightly older, skinny girl who spied something in a store window. She stopped in front of the display shelves, tapping her foot:

Mom: "Come away Dorothea"
Kid: "Momma, you think I could get that doll for Christmas?"
Mom: "I can't afford it."
Kid: "I'll save up, do chores, or maybe Santa could bring it to me."
Mom: "Santa don't come to this neighborhood."
"Santa comes to every neighborhood Lady!" Growled Cal. Then he coughed.

The mom was startled and cowed for a second, then she smacked Dorothea a bop on her pink knit cap which started her tears falling, and tugged her away.

"Mind your own business you old sot." She yelled over her shoulder.

Cal: "No Santa? What a thing to tell a kid." She (the kid) kinda reminds me of me at that age - looking forward to things, everything being so important then. I think I'll go get that for the kid... No Santa? Pift!" His moustache hairs blew out like streamers over a vent.

Cal figured the shelter might have some toys for the little girl so he went over there. Along the way he thought to himself, "I wish I knew some good Bible passage I could have thrown at that lady."

When he got to the shelter, he found that the lights were out and the door was boarded up. A hand written sign in the window said - "the Divine Time Shelter and Support has moved due to tough economy (tough was underlined). We're looking for a new home. Please go to the Midtown Presbyterian Church for immediate help. signed, Dell and Joelene."

"Maybe in back they got something. I found a folding chair there once." The dumpster wasn't locked but after creaking it open, Cal found it empty except for some trapped bad smells and a few wet, flat, stained, and disintegrating cardboard boxes.

"Pift!"

A bell clanged over some doorway and Cal turned in that direction towards a high wood fence. Somebody on the other side tossed a black trash bag over the fence. It landed on a patch of snow. Then a door closed. "Maybe some food. I could use something."

He shuffled over to it and tried to get the knot undone. It wouldn't budge. He was about to give up but decided to persevere. His fingers shook from being worn out and cold, but he got the knot loose this time and opened it.

The bag was empty except for an oblong carpet bag about 2 feet long and 6 inches high. It was in good shape though not new, and grey all over with a pattern of little red reindeer and wee snowflakes falling. A pewter clasp held it closed.

"That's sweet, like a doctor has on house calls."
He opened it up. It was empty.
"Aw," sighed Cal.

He closed it up but when the clasps connected Cal thought he saw a spark - a little streak of lightning. He reviewed the situation and what he thought he saw. Then he opened it again and reached in and searched the corners with his hand. This time he touched some thick soft cloth. He pulled out a cap - a red Santa hat. It was simple but heavy duty, thick and well stitched. He tried it on. A wave of warmth flowed down from his head.

"That's sweet." He adjusted the brim and looked back at the bag.

"What else?" He closed it - that spark again . And at the same instant a piece of trash, a shred of a newspaper, a circular for Ernie's Chicken Shack and Gumbo, flew by and stuck on the side of his face.

Cal peeled it off before it could stain his new cap and studied it. "That chicken looks mighty tasty." His mouth watered, "I'll keep the coupon."

He opened the bag and put it in for safe keeping, but the bag had something else in it already - a leg of chicken wrapped in wax paper. Cal unwrapped it and took a bite. It was cold but very good and filling. "This bag's magic maybe... I'll try wishing."

"I'd like some booze. Any kind will do Mr. Bag." He closed it, the sparks flew, and he opened it again. It was empty but a puff of wind like a bunch of voices flew out saying, "Boo. Boo. Boo."

Cal laughed, "Oh I get it. It's all tricks like a preacher or something." He addressed the bag, "You got rules huh? Well I ache a lot. If not booze how about cough syrup to take off the chill and get a warm buzz? My feet are aching and my joints are stiff and rattling..." He clasped the bag shut and his eyes too. "It might help', he thought. And opened both and reached in.

Nothing bottle-ly or clanking. But something warm was there. It was a pair of tall black boots and under them a red jacket with white wool trim.
"Well now..."
He sat down on the ground, took off his worn sneakers, tossed one over each shoulder and tried on the new boots. "Perfect fit!." Then he stood up and tried on the jacket. "Made for me. Yaba Daba!"
A voice answered, "You talking to me?"
Cal turned toward the voice. A 12 year old boy with baggy green corduroy pants and spiked hair, was walking by.
Cal: "Uh no," He shook his head a real quick turn. "...Uh maybe. Come back here kid"
The kid retraced his steps backward.
"Let's try an experiment," Cal muttered to himself as he closed the bag, watched it spark, and opened it. Inside was a soccer ball.
"Kid would you throw this away for me?" He rolled it toward him. The kid picked it up and stared at the old man, then the ball again, "Uh mind if I keep it instead? I asked for this for Christmas."
"Whatever," said Cal nonchalantly.
Kid: Wow!
Cal closed the bag. It sparked. He opened it and pulled out a toy xylophone and an astronomy picture book. Just then, a red-haired girl with tortoise shell glasses and a backpack walked by.
Cal said, "Hey girl, these must be for you." He held up a present in each hand.
The little girl walked over and perused the gifts. Her eyes widened. "Oh I can't accept stuff from strangers Mister. My dad says so."
Cal - "Go get your dad and tell him he can come and get them for you. I'll leave them over here in this corner by the fence."
The little girl saw that that might work, and raced off.
A fat kid with blonde hair and a thick striped yellow and brown sweater was right behind her.
Cal, "Kid what would you like for Christmas?"
Fat kid, "Ice skates mostly. Blue ones.
Cal, "Reach in here and see what's what."
As the kid approached, Cal closed the bag, the spark flew, and he opened it up wide. "Reach in there kid and see what you see...." He hesitated. "It won't bite, it's just a bag."
The kid reached in and pulled out a lump of coal! The black oily soot got all over his hand. He started to cry.

Cal said "Well that's not right." He handed the boy his yellow hanky to clean his hands. Then closed the bag more gently - spark - opened it, and reached in. Out came a pair of brand new, shiney blue ice skates. "Now don't cry. It got it right this time." He handed him the skates. "Now off you go."

The kid traded the hanky for the skates and took off with a mumbled "thank you."

Cal: "So only I've got the touch huh? Only me. No one else can do it. Me and my bag here..."

Word spread fast. Soon even kids perched on their parent's shoulders couldn't spot Cal over the crowds in the alley.
Cal "We got to move somewhere where there's some room for folks."

A bald guy had keys to an empty store. By the time the group got there the carpet bag had grown to almost suitcase size and was bulging with presents. They set up a line and the children passed by a folding table with the open bag on it. Cal would give them whatever was on top. Each gift fit perfectly - a cashmere scarf, a skateboard, a wind up boat...

After their kid got presents, some parents went home and brought back food to feed everyone: cold cuts and sliced bread for sandwiches, coleslaw, potato salad, cocoa and coffee, pies and cakes.

Cal was eating a slice of apple pie with 1 hand and reaching into his bag with the other - a robot, a board game, blocks...

The night turned to a gem-like deep blue, and the evening chill frosted the windows like a doily.
The line kept advancing - a teddy bear, trucks, puzzles...

Some boys near the end of the line were yawning as if they were singing a song without the music, the crowd was thinning, and the food tables were now just empty trays with a few crumbs left for the mice and cockroaches. The line wound down.

Ten minutes more and only one child was left in the line. It was a little girl. She was by herself. It was Dorothea.
Cal: "Let's take a look see." Cal inspected the almost empty bag. "I see two presents left."
Dor: "Oh I know what - that's one for me and one for Jape."
Cal: "Who's Jape?"
Dor: "My little brother."
Cal pulled out a toy merry-go-round.
Dor: That ones' for Jape. I'll teach him how to wind it.
Then she waited , tingling all over. Cal pulled out a doll like the one from the store window.
A slow smile spread over Dorothea's face.
Dor: "Santa, I was doubtful, but there was an old man that believed in you. My mom didn't listen, but the old man said different. He knew what was what. He knew all along."
A big spark flew from the bag, both backed away in shocked surprise, then laughed, while the church bells began to ring in Christmas day.

First they played a carol, then the bells began to sound low and long, once for each hour of midnight. An old grey headed stick of a woman yelled "Merry Christmas" and laughed. "Merry Christmas everyone!" echoed back from the crowd. Dorothea closed the front door and skipped home with her hands full of toys.

"Another Christmas Eve gone." said someone.
Everyone left responded, "Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas Day."
People began packing up to go home to their families. A middle-aged couple commented that they'd like to have Cal come home with them.
The guy with the keys was locking up and said, "Yeah, its the least this neighborhood could do for our 'Santa, From the Shelter'".
"Santa?" Whispered Cal.
A few last stragglers started singing, "For he's the jolly good fellow...
"That's sweet folks but I like living on my own. Me and my bag better go too."
Goodbyes all around.
Then, out in the street, Cal closed up the bag one last time as the 12th bell tolled. Midnight. No spark this time. He opened it and tried closing it a few times. Each time nothing.

"Well I better take you home. I guess you reached your limit."

He went back to the empty dumpster and wood fence and rubbed the bag just once more out of fondness for it.

Then he turned toward the wall. "Cal Dogget says thank you whatever Mister! It's been sweet as syrup!" Then he tossed the carpet bag back over the fence. "If you don't mind I'll keep the hat and clothes. I'm awful fond of them."

Then he walked to the Presbyterian Church, stopping only once to slide on a good stretch of ice, the snow dappling the air like fairy dust.

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