Free A Christmas Carl by Ryan Field

the Ghost, pointing at the baby carriage. He
     
knew Donna couldn’t hear him. Then he started counting the months. If he and Donna
     
had conceived a child on Christmas Day, and this was one year later, then that child
     
would be just about the same age as the baby in the carriage. And she’d named him Carl,
     
too. Carl lifted his fists and shook them. “Tell me right now. Is this my child?”
     
While he was shaking his fists at the ghost, the traffic light changed and Donna
     
crossed into the street. Carl turned to follow them. He wanted to know where she lived;
     
he wanted to see the baby again. But when Donna reached the middle of the street, an
     
older man carrying shopping bags filled with wrapped Christmas gifts grabbed the baby
     
carriage. It all happened fast; Christmas packages flew up in the air and landed all over
     
Riverside Drive. The man pulled the baby carriage away from Donna and ran toward the
     
sidewalk as fast as he could. Before Donna even had a chance to scream for help, a
     
speeding taxi cab, swerving and weaving from one side of the road to the other, smacked
     
into her body.
     
Carl stood there watching all this, with his arms stretched out and his mouth wide
     
open. Carl saw the taxi hit Donna from the side and there was nothing he could do; he
     
watched her small body go up in the air and land sideways on the street. When the right side of her head hit the pavement, her neck snapped, her tongue fell out of her mouth, and
     
a thin line of blood trickled out of her left ear. Her eyes were open, as if she were still
     
staring at the baby carriage on the other side of the street.
     
Then Carl looked across the street. The older man must have seen the taxi
     
coming. He had just saved the baby’s life and now he was standing on the corner rocking
     
the baby carriage with one hand and holding his palm to his chest with the other.
     
The Ghost of Christmas Past lifted the black glove and said, “It’s time to leave.”
     
Carl gave him a look. “I can’t leave now. What about Donna? What will happen
     
to the baby? He’s my son.” He stepped back and extended both arms. He lifted his hand
     
and shouted. “I’m not leaving them.”
     
“It’s time to leave,” the Ghost repeated. Then the black glove went up and
     
touched the side of Carl’s face.
     
A moment later, Carl and the Ghost were standing in a dark parking lot. There
     
was snow on the ground and Carl could hear the sound of traffic moving in the distance.
     
He looked around to see if anything was familiar. On his left, there was a flat brick
     
building surrounded by tall street lights. The inside of the building was a lit up and there
     
was huge fake Christmas wreath on a large glass door. On his right, there was a long line
     
of tractor-trailers and a few parked cars. He blinked a few times and took a deep breath.
     
He recognized this place. It was a secluded highway rest stop not far from where he’d
     
gone to college. After Victor left for Europe, Carl went to the rest stop for anonymous
     
sex. The first time he went there was the Christmas after Victor’s father caught them in
     
the back seat of the car. “What on Earth are we doing here?” Carl asked the Ghost. His voice was low and
     
weak. He was still wondering about Donna and the baby named Carl.
     
The ghost pointed to a small car parked behind a large tractor-trailer. A young
     
man in a black leather coat and heavy black boots got out of the car and slowly walked a
     
few feet to a trash can in front of the truck’s cab. The young man stood in front of the
     
trash can, hesitated for a minute, then tossed a piece of paper into the can.
     
Carl took a few steps forward so he could get a better look at the young man.
     
When he was only a few feet away, he noticed the young man wasn’t wearing pants. The
     
black leather coat was belted at the waist and it stopped short at the tops of his legs.