Let’s Trap Santa

“Where’ve you been? You look like something the dog drug in.”

“Where’ve you been? You smell like an old outhouse.”

“No, I don’t. But you’re filthy. Go take a bath and change. God, Emily, what’s that on your cheek? And where’d you hear that?”

“Grease, and I heard mom tell dad that after he worked in the garden.”

“Where‘d you get the grease?”

“Looking for this, I found one. Now let’s trap Santa. I think it would be fun and we’d get to see into his bag. Maybe pet a reindeer too.”

"What the heck is that?"

"The Trap."

"So, you want to cut his foot off and let him bleed to death in the fireplace? That toothed monstrosity was made for a grizzly-bear. A big one. I was thinking a rope trap, a noose that grabs a foot maybe."

"You didn't say that, Dirk! You just said 'a trap' and that's what I found out behind old mister Sages barn."

“What were you doing over there. He can get real nasty.”

“He wasn’t and he called me Pretty Lady too. I asked him if he knew where I could find a trap and he said check behind the barn. This’s what I found.”

"I didn't think I had to tell you, you’re always playing with rope, I thought you knew. It's obvious that thing could really hurt him, maybe cut his foot off."

"Well, I thought his leather boots would protect him. Guess not, huh."

"No, they won't."

"How do you build a noose Trap?"

"We need rope and something to hide it under. The fireplace ashes'll hide it."

"We hide a rope? That's it?"

"No, little sister, that's not it. First we have to tie a noose, then spread it open and hide it under something and when he steps in it we pull and he's caught. You do know what a noose is, right?"

"It's something they hang people with, but they never show how to tie it."

"Never ... what? When have you ever seen anyone hanged? You’re always making crap up, Emily."

"I have too seen it! I watch all those old war films where the Nazis killed all those people, but they never show tying the knots, just them hanging there. Is Crap a swear word?"

"My god Emily, that's sick! And, no, it’s not so don’t bother telling mom."

"No it’s not sick! I may only be eight and your ten Big Brother, but I'm just as smart as you. I'm just interested in knots. I’ve been trying to figure out the noose knot."

"Knots are a stupid thing to be interested in."

"NO THEY'RE NOT!"

"You're not interested in knots."

"I AM SO, and ... well ... a lot of other stuff too."

"Like what? I dare you to tell me another."

"Blood."

"Blood? Shit Emily, that's gross and disgusting."

"It's what keeps us alive and I'm interested and I'm going to tell mom you used the ‘S’ word too if you don't stop picking on me. Only adults get to say it."

"Tell Mom! That's always your answer when your losing."

I'm NOT losing, I just want to know how to tie a noose."

“I know how to tie a hangman’s noose, I’ll show you if you can sit still and not stick your hands in long enough to let me.”

“Okay, show me, I want to catch him.”

"So you can hang him? That's not a very nice thing."

"Could we?"

"Could we what?"

"Hang him up. I haven't gotten what I asked for for the last three years."

"What didn't you get?"

"Throwing knives ... and a sword, I really want to learn how to throw knives and sword fight. Maybe if we string him up by his foot I can make him give me what I want."

"Jesus, Emily, you're crazy. You know mom hates guns and knives and dad just does what she says. What makes you think you’ll get them?"

"I’ll make Santa promise to get them for me to let him go. He has to keep his promises. I'm telling mom you used Jesus as a swear word too ... and I wouldn't call me crazy either if I were you.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I Might get what I want and, I ... don't ... like ... it..."