Flash Fiction: The Fancy Wrapping Paper Exchange Club

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s prompt is “winter is coming,” and today’s tale comes to us from Val Muller, author of the kidlit mystery series Corgi Capers. Look for releases of books 4 and 5 in 2025!

The Fancy Wrapping Paper Exchange Club

By Val Muller

It was about that time, that certain chill in the air, winter was coming. Gus zipped his jacket and peered one more time up the staircase. This had all been so much easy easier before the dog died. At least in those days he could always just claim he was walking Bailey. But now he had to make up excuses, and it wasn’t even trash day.

It was the first night that a cold snap was truly coming. There was going to be frost on the ground in the morning and the kids were going to start asking about those Christmas elves. They usually showed up right after Thanksgiving. Or sometimes December first, but some of the families had their elves show up on the first frost. The weather was making some of the families nervous, so they sent the men out tonight to do the wrapping paper exchange.

It was an idea that came about when Frankie down the street decided he was going to keep a scrap of Santa wrapping paper from every year. He was one of those kids destined to be a historian. Or maybe an archeologist or a detective. His attention to detail was going to be the downfall of every family in the neighborhood. Rumor had it he was even keeping pieces of tape to check for fingerprints.

So every year, the family pulled that special tube of wrapping paper down from the rafters, or wherever it was they stored it for the year. And they met up at the Martin’s shed at the front of the neighborhood. Some of them had had experience doing these sneaky nefarious things as teenagers, and Gus imagined it must be sort of exciting to get that adrenaline rush again, to feel again like children.

For Gus, this sneaking was a new thing and definitely got to his nerves. Probably two times out of seven during the week, at least one of the children would get up for water. Or forgetting to do a homework assignment. Or any of the other five thousand things kids do while they’re trying not to fall asleep at night.

Rebecca was in bed reading, but he knew she would be asleep in the next five or ten minutes. Gus thought about leaving the shower on, but that would be a long time for the water to be running and after all, it was a drought year. It would be unfair to use the water for this purpose. He just had to hurry up and hope for the best.

George kept a list, and every Christmas Eve, he texted it to the other fathers in the neighborhood, just in case. And it was a good thing, too, because George got a new phone and forgot to transfer the list over. So when guys got there, Mike had already pulled up the list, and they were comparing notes. Gus had the red foil paper last year and it was his turn to pass that over to George. Mike had the glittery Santa paper and that would go to Gus this year, and so on. There were certain papers that Frankie was aware of and others that he wasn’t. All the families tried to go to off-beat stores and purchase fresh rolls for future years.

It wasn’t until last year that Frankie started getting other kids involved and making the matrix that much more complicated. In some ways, all the dads couldn’t wait to spoil the surprise so that at least Frankie could be on their side and help with the younger ones.

There at the shed, there was the obligatory exchange of pleasantries, some talk about their children’s milestones or whose kids had the bad teachers this year. Gus felt under the surface the repressed talk of men who could truly be friends if not for the relentless responsibilities of families, responsibilities so demanding that meeting at night near abandoned shed to exchange wrapping paper was all that they had left.

The exchange was made, a few of the dogs pooped and that had to be cleaned up, but soon the men went home because after all, they were sneaking out and they had to get back quickly and store the wrapping paper somewhere secret before they got too tired to think.

They were like burglars, plotting the best route home so as to avoid any detection by relevant neighborhood cameras and doorbell cameras. His house being on the cul-de-sac, Gus would be the last to get home. He had forgotten just how dark the neighborhood was. And it was never so quiet as now, walking alone, his first year without Bailey.

In the quiet night with only a slim sliver of a moon lighting the way, his breath left ghostly trails in the air as a thought crossed his mind. He and these other dads, they were walking almost like zombies or people possessed. What was making them do all these things? What was making them hide the wrapping paper? What was making them wrap these gifts so secretly? All for the children’s happiness.

A thought crossed his mind that maybe there was more to this Santa thing than he had realized. He heard a rustling in the woods behind the house and it almost sounded like sleigh bells. Gus shivered and turned up his collar, being careful not to tear the wrapping paper since it felt like maybe there wouldn’t be quite enough for the gift he would be wrapping that year.

He turned to look up at the moon, and a jolly laughter echoed in the air, or at least in his ears. And as he gazed up at the starry sky, he could swear he saw the silhouette of Santa’s sleigh being driven by eight tiny reindeer scurry across the moon.

The Spot Writers:

Val Muller: https://valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/