Chapter 2 of Daria Saves Christmas. Can Daria and jane save Christmas after Santa crashes into Daria backyard or is it too late? A work in progress.
The phone would not stop ringing. Every couple of minutes, it would ring four or five times and then stop. Daria sighed from underneath her green jacket as she lay on her bed. She had returned from the airport in disgust a few hours ago. Grandmother Ruth must still be a little peeved at me, Daria thought, over what had happened when Ruth had last paid a visit after Jake’s heart attack.
A couple of weeks ago, the courier had dropped off a packet with four round trip tickets so that the family could spend Christmas vacation in Hawaii with Grandmother Ruth. The only problem was Daria’s ticket was on a separate flight than the rest. They had run out of seats, Ruth had explained over the phone when Helen had called her to question the weird arrangement. Jake, Helen, and Quinn would fly out Friday evening first class from Lawndale International while Daria would be flying standby sometime Saturday afternoon. That’s all that they had left Ruth assured her family.
Jake wasn’t willing to pay the over priced parking fees at the airport and Helen wasn’t willing to point out that she paid much more every day commuting to her office. Daria had suggested and they had all agreed to ask Trent to take them to the airport. After Daria had boldly entered his room and endured the nearly endless teasing from Jane, Trent’s sister, Trent had agreed to play taxi as he had a gig with the band later that evening anyway.
Friday evening had gone off without a hitch. Trent had arrived promptly two hours before their flight (Only Daria had noticed Trent’s slight case of the shakes. Jane must have had forced feed Trent endless amounts of coffee before hand.) and had taken all four of them to the airport without any problem. Daria had noticed that the flight was extremely underbooked with many empty seats. She had shrugged it off thinking that a unnormally large amount of customers had canceled at the last minute. While she watched the plane fly off into the sunset, she imagined it flying into the sun setting at the end of the runway but it was not to be. Trent had dropped her off at home on the way to the show and she had spent the rest of the evening packing an extra set of clothes, (5 minutes if that) answering her email, (Another 5 minutes. Two notes from Jane and 316 pieces of unwanted spam telling her how she could grow her penis even larger.) and working her way through a half gallon of Fudge Ripple while watching old movies on AMC.
The sun rose on a very bad Saturday morning. Sometime during the evening, a winter storm that was suppose to miss Lawndale had turned at the last minute and dropped an eighth of an inch of snow. This had, of course, shut the entire city down in a panic. National guard troops were patrolling the city guarding from looters, lines stretched out into the parking lots at all of the area supermarkets, and the local mayor was on the phone begging for help from the state’s governor.
She spent all of 10 seconds trying to decide if she should even make the effort to get to the airport. She had turned on the television to discover a local reporter (blond, missing a few buttons on her blouse, and a toss up if she had spent more money on her teeth, her hair or her breasts) praising the heroic efforts of the airport crews on keeping the runways clear as she showed the viewers at home the damp soles of her Manolo Blahnik leather loafers. Helen would kill her if she canceled she thought as she opened up the Yellow Pages looking for taxi cabs. Daria knew that most of the high end companies would be blowing off today in fear of denting their high priced rides. She skimmed the listings looking for a small company.
Thirty minutes later, the worst looking taxi cab she had ever seen pulled into her driveway. She stepped into a cab filled with hanging beads and the chanting rhythems of Tibetan monks. Daria held on for her life as the driver whipped the hack through the streets of the city like he was running past the Border Patrol and he had a trunk full of contraband. In the fifteen minutes it took to get her to the airport, he had told her about his entire life. He had come to the States in search of a better life for him, his wife, and his twenty one children still living back in Tibet. he had even pulled out his wallet to show Daria all the pictures of his little ones and his veiled wife as he plowed through a red light, raising the anger of the motorists he had cut off. Daria tipped him an extra twenty once they had finally made it to the gate. It was against her better nature but maybe it would be better if he got the money that he needed as quickly as possible. She smirked at the “Free Tibet” sticker on the bumper as it sped away.
Daria had just checked at the ticket counter and boarded her plane when her day went from bad to worse. Out on the tarmac, a lone underpaid refueler for the Roentgen Services Company had just mistakenly hooked his fuel nozzle to the oxygen intake value on Daria’s plane. Soon, the plane was filled with the toxic fumes of jet fuel causing the crew and passengers alike to escape from their flight. Daria soon discovered that there were no back up planes as they had all been rerouted elsewhere. With a sigh, Daria made her way back to the nearest taxi stand pausing only to make sure she sprayed some mud and salt on the blond reporter she had seen beforehand.
Daria stared up at her ceiling. The phone had finally kept quiet for more than 10 minutes. When she had arrived home, after another thrill ride, she had left a message on Jane’s voice mail. Jane had mentioned something about leaving to head upstate for an artist’s retreat early this morning. Daria knew that Jane threw herself into these retreats and would only arise some time after they had kicked everyone else out. She didn’t expect Jane to get the message but she at least wanted to touch base just in case. She had then headed to her bedroom where she had collapsed on her bed. It hadn’t been a long day. Just one she didn’t want to think about anymore.
The phone rang again. Daria sat up with a sigh. She knew that this was going to continue. She didn’t really care who was on the other end of the line. She just wanted her rest and not to think about another messed up Christmas. She removed her jacket from where it had fallened onto her lap when she had sat up, walked over to the phone on the floor and wrapped the phone with her jacket, muffling the noise. With a smirk, she slid open a desk drawer, dropped in her package and closed the drawer with her bare foot. She turned to walk back to the bed.
“Daria, I can see you though the window,” Jane’s muffled voice was heard from outside. “I know you’re in there. Come out. Come out where ever you are! It’s Christmas eve and I’m not letting you mop all alone at home. I saw what you did to that poor smuck at the airport.”
Daria ducked to the floor. Damn, she thought. She knew that Jane would do her best to get Daria our of her seasonal depression.
“Daria, I’m going to start stripping if you don’t at least come to the window. What will the neighbors think? What will Helen think when she hears about what happened? Hey buddy. What do you think of these?”
Daria’s eyes went wide as she flew to the window and threw it open. A well made snow ball impacted the dead center of her face.
“Got ya! I knew spending all those dollars on the dunk tank would come in handy some day.” Daria slowly wiped the wet mass from her face and glasses.