A Very Stark Christmas: Chapter 3
A Stark Mystery
Me and Love Knuckles left the hotel room in a hurry. I grabbed a slice of pizza on the way out and made quick work of it. I didn’t know when I would get to eat again.
A long bus and subway ride later and we were in the heart of the Big Apple.
It was weird not seeing any holiday decorations. We stopped at Rockefeller Center. No Christmas tree, no lights, just people skating around in a circle in shock. At least their eyes were in shock. I couldn’t see their noses or mouths. But a good gumshoe can sense these things.
“If I hadn’t seen it with my own peepers, I wouldn’t have believed it. What kind of sick, real-life Grinch would steal Christmas,” I asked, not expecting an answer.
“My money is on Anti Claus?” Helen replied.
If I wasn’t wearing a mask, my mouth would have dropped open.
“Anti-What? Babe, you gotta get off Facebook.”
“Anti Claus is the evil opposite of Santa Claus. My guess is he recruited an army of minions to steal Christmas. All he has to do is use fear and propoganda to convince people to blindly follow him. We both know it works.”
She took out her phone and opened Twitter. “Here look for yourself.”
Sure enough, Anti Claus had his own Twitter account with 240 million followers.
“Where have I been?” I asked.
“Well, you don’t believe in Santa.”
“Listen, Sweet Cheeks. After this over, we are going to have a real long heart-to-heart.”
Just then something caught the corner of my eye. I jerked my head around and saw it plain as day. The psychedelic painted Partrdige Family school bus. The inside was stuffed with Christmas lights, decorations and presents. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like Reuben Kincaid at the wheel.
“It’s not possible,” I said.
“What?” Helen asked.
“I just saw Reuben Kincaid driving the Partridge Family bus loaded down with Christmas stuff.”
“You’re right about that. David Joseph Madden died six years ago.”
“Who?”
“David Joseph Madden played Reuben Kincaid on the Partridge Family TV show.”
“Who are you. And what did you do with Helen?”
“Shut up, Moron.”
“That’s more like it. Well, if he’s dead, who was driving the bus? The driver looked just like Reuben Kincaid on the show.”
“I sure hope this doesn’t turn into another time-travel fiasco.”
“You and me both. Maybe it was his son.”
I began to wonder why life always dragged me into these ridiculous capers. It was like I wasn’t really in control and some nutty writer was making this all up. Of course, I knew that wasn’t the case.
Another thing I knew was, you always follow the money. Or in this case, Christmas stuff.
I hailed a taxi.
Continues in Chapter 4
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