(5/15) “It was never supposed to happen. It was summertime. He was tan. He was only forty-six. He had a heart attack at work. The policemen on our doorstep said by the time they got to him, it was too late. I’d never even been to a funeral before. First funeral I ever went to, and it’s for my own father. That was when real life started happening. My mother went to work. She got two jobs: one at the Board of Education, and another at a dentist’s office. I was the oldest son, so I figured I should take over something. To help mom figure out this road. I landed on three things: driving people everywhere, fixing things around the house, and Christmas. I wanted to do it bigger than ever. We’d never had outdoor decorations before, so I went to the discount store and got some outdoor decorations: toy soldiers for the front steps. A star for the porch. Big, chunky lights for the front gates. I hauled the boxes out of the basement and filled our living room with the usual tchotchkes. Then up went the banner, with all the pictures from Macy’s. There’s a couple photos where it’s just me and my mom. My brothers were getting a little old for it. But every year, when she asked if we were going to see Santa, I’d say: ‘Yes. Yes we are.’ Grown woman. Husband dead. And she would still speak to this man like he was real: ‘Santa, it’s been such a tough year. But we’re so happy to see you.’ I’m smiling in the photos. But things got pretty dark for me after my father’s death. I tried to keep doing magic, but my heart wasn’t in it anymore. The last show I did was at a big camp. The kids were talking through the whole show. I couldn’t amaze them. At one point I was making a ball float in the air, and this little girl yelled out: ‘You suck.’ All the kids started laughing. I said: ‘Please take a seat. That’s not very nice.’ And this girl, all of eleven years old, screamed something so graphic that it sunk into my soul. I packed up my things and walked off the stage. I’m hysterical crying. The camp director is begging me to go back out there, but I couldn’t do it. I decided right then to put the magic away. I thought that maybe children are different now. Maybe the wonder is gone for good.”