Biff and Paul Get Acquainted

One day, I loaned a suit to my cousin.

My new cousin Paul had come into my Santa room. All the bubble lights percolated cheerily, the reindeer and an elf glowed with interior lights, and Paul's eyes kept darting around, trying to take it all in. Santa stood and waved his friendly wave, like always; his gears whirred, like always.

"Tell me about yourself, Paul," I said.

"Well, I'm just a little older than you, by about a year and half or so; my sister Callista, she was the one that got killed ... can I touch Santa?"

"Yes."

Paul walked over and put his hand on Santa's shoulder. "Wow, you can feel the vibration of the motor."

Suddenly I thought to myself, "That looks like fun." I put my hand next to Paul's. We grinned at each other. Then I remembered.

"I'm sorry your sister got killed."

Paul took his hand away. "Yeah, thanks." He looked down. I looked at his shoe - the laces flopped over and lay on the floor. They had black dirt all over them.

"So I guess you are here for the funeral."

"Yeah, my rich uncle, I mean, your father, he's gonna have a big deal for her. Lots of flowers and stuff. I'm supposed to borrow a suit from you."

I nodded. "Okay. Let's go to my room." I went to the control panel I'd had built the summer before. I flipped a few switches and Santa stopped moving. The room went dark, except for one white light overhead. We walked out into the hall.

"Do you have any other neat stuff? My Dad said you had a lot of toys," Paul said.

"Well, I do have some things, but they're not toys, really."

"Like what?"

"Oh, a train, some guns, a horse." I opened the door to my room. "Here we are."

"Oh, man, a train?"

"Yes. Oh, and you can see the color TV in the corner."

"All this is yours?"

"Yes." I'd never realized my room was anything special. I suppose I took for granted the sitting area with the chairs and TV; the large bathroom, and the combined closet and dressing room. I took Paul to the dressing room and picked out a black suit. He tried it on.

"Perfect fit," he said. I thought the sleeves and pant legs little short, but said nothing. Suddenly, I thought of something.

"Let's go show my father."

"OK," Paul said. We left my room to look for them downstairs.

Biff Meets A Cousin

One day, an older boy wandered into Santa's room.

I was sitting face to face with Santa, when I heard the door open.

"Wow" said a voice. I turned and looked.

The boy wore overalls, like a very young workman. Thick glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, and white socks peeked out above his old, dirty sneakers.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Paul," he said. "My name is Paul. You must be Biff."

"What are you doing in my room, Paul?"

"Your stepmom told me I'd find you up here." He pointed at himself with his thumb, "I'm your cousin."

At this I stood up. I went over and shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you," I said. I kept my voice calm, just like Daddy would have, and hoped he didn't notice the slight quiver in my voice.

"This is, like, the coolest place I've ever been. Is all this stuff yours? Where'd you get the Santa? Can you play with this stuff?" Paul took a breath.

"Yes," I said, "Everything in this room belongs to me."

"Wow," Paul repeated. "It's sure great to be rich."

"Yes, it sure is." I could not help bouncing up and down on my toes. "It sure is."