{"id":411,"date":"2009-12-11T13:48:37","date_gmt":"2009-12-11T19:48:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/annetylerlord.com\/?p=411"},"modified":"2009-12-11T13:48:37","modified_gmt":"2009-12-11T19:48:37","slug":"frostbite-a-mafia-family-christmas-pt-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/2009\/12\/11\/frostbite-a-mafia-family-christmas-pt-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Fiction: Frostbite: A Mafia Family Christmas (pt. 1)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Thanks for reading my very first FridayFlash fiction. \u00a0I have been working on a novel called, R-Evolutionary nights and my characters are currently in Prague and Budapest. \u00a0The Russian mafia is playing a role and I wondered to myself, What it might be like to go home for Christmas when your family is in the mafia? <\/em> Here is one such story…<\/p>\n

Frostbite: \u00a0A Mafia Family Christmas<\/h2>\n

\"Mafia\"I never imagined my first Christmas back home in fifteen years would come to this. Every swear word in my vocabulary started swirling through my head as I grabbed my sixty-two year old mama tightly with both arms and pulled her away from my Great Aunt Urola.<\/p>\n

Mama waved her arms wildly, \u201cYou never should have come here you old bat! I don’t care what promises were made to Rudolf, he’s dead, but my dying wish is…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMama, shut up and stop this, just look at yourself, it’s Christmas!\u201d I took a hold of Mama even harder and almost picked her up before placing her in the nearest chair. Great Aunt Urola slipped a sly smile towards Mama.<\/p>\n

The women in the family were trying to prepare Christmas dinner in the kitchen. They looked up occasionally to make sure the food made it through the latest skirmish. Half of the women were from Great Uncle Ermil’s family. His side of the family was joining us for Christmas for the first time in fifty years. Great Uncle Ermil and my grandfather Rudolf split at that time and never got along. The families have been trying to reconcile since my grandfather Rudolf died three years ago.<\/p>\n

My papa, Viktor, heard the fighting from the next room and burst into the kitchen in time to witness another blast from Aunt Urola. \u00a0 She picked up a huge dish of potatoes and threw the it into the garbage. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d Mama shouted and tried to grab her again. I stopped her just in time. \u201cTasha! \u00a0Stop it! \u00a0SHE is the one who needs restraining!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m not eating ANYTHING prepared by THEM!\u201d Aunt Urola pointed to my great Uncle Ermil’s family. \u00a0\u201cYou all know what they did.\u201d \u00a0 She was trembling with rage and stormed into the livingroom. \u00a0Everyone in the kitchen followed her. \u00a0The relatives in the livingroom halted their conversation and all eyes turned towards her.<\/p>\n

Viktor grabbed her arm. \u201cUrola, calm down! \u00a0I’ve had enough of your fits! \u00a0Every Christmas it’s that same thing! \u00a0 But this year you are outta control and it’s gonna stop!\u201d My father hated his Aunt Urola, but promised his father, Rudolf, on his death bed that he would take care of her.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are just as bad as THEY are, Viktor! Why don’t you be a man and stand up to them for once. You are a disgrace to your father. One of these days you will be sorry.\u201d Aunt Urola wagged her finger at him.<\/p>\n

The veins in my Papa’s neck bulged and his face turned a deep shade of red. \u201cYou crazy old woman, you sit down and be quiet or I’ll give you something to complain about!\u201d Aunt Urola spun on her heels and returned to the kitchen. The women quickly followed to make sure the food was safe from her rage. The family members in the livingroom poured more drinks and continued their conversations.<\/p>\n

I reluctantly returned to the kitchen and collapsed in a chair as Mama continued preparing Christmas dinner with my aunts. \u00a0The women ignored Aunt Urola who was standing with her arms crossed in the middle of the kitchen. \u00a0She was scowling as she watched the women cooking, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.<\/p>\n

Memories of my childhood and the unusual family gatherings flooded my mind. \u00a0Reality can get a little skewed when the family business is running a territory of the Russian mafia and you live on a family compound surrounded by iron gates deep in the Hungarian countryside. \u00a0 That’s why I eagerly moved to the United States to attend law school and became a criminal trial attorney in Chicago. \u00a0If my parents wanted to see me, they came to the States. I insisted they keep me out of the family business. \u00a0I never looked back or visited the family in Budapest until now. \u00a0I was beginning to think I had made a mistake by returning this year.<\/p>\n

Eventually the table was set and Christmas dinner was served. The men were making toasts to the reunion of the two families. Some of the women were shooting icy stares at Aunt Urola. The cousins were diverting their attention by talking amongst themselves and occupying their children. \u00a0 Aunt Urola ate like a pig. \u00a0 Then she began inserting criticisms into every conversation. \u00a0The tension began growing again. \u00a0Most of the family got up as dessert was served and dispersed throughout the house for the evening.<\/p>\n

Several hours later, we could hear the icy winds blow viciously through the hills making travel impossible. \u00a0 My parent’s huge mansion had to accommodate the entire family for the night. \u00a0After several arguments about sleeping arrangements, everyone retired. \u00a0The house trembled and the windows rattled. \u00a0I could feel the draft of bone chilling cold. \u00a0 Sleep was difficult with the howling wind continually transforming into startlingly gruesome noises.<\/p>\n

When morning finally arrived, I groggily went downstairs to find that almost everyone was already awake and eating breakfast by seven o’clock. \u00a0My cousins were serving breakfast to their children. The mood was lighter and almost \u201cnormal.\u201d \u00a0Mama was in a cheery mood. \u00a0 \u201cWhat would you like for breakfast?\u201d She smiled at me and touched my arm.<\/p>\n

Both sides of the family were getting along splendidly this morning. \u00a0My aunt’s laughed as they drank their coffee together. \u00a0 Relief entered my body as I watched this heart-warming scene. \u00a0 One of my cousin’s young children looked out the window and said excitedly, \u201cI want to go out and play in the snow with Aunt Urola!\u201d \u00a0The other children jumped and shouted to join in.<\/p>\n

\u201cO.K., but just for a little while.\u201d My mom smiled and helped put on their snow clothes.<\/p>\n

I sighed and thought now nice it was that the children were going to play with Aunt Urola. \u00a0That would certainly melt her heart. \u00a0The magic of Christmas cheer can turn any grumble bumble around.<\/p>\n

As the children opened the door and happily bounded into the newly fallen snow, I couldn’t help but feel their excitement. \u00a0But my face dropped and my mouth gaped open when I saw Great Aunt Urola’s hat and two shoes poking out of the snow. \u00a0Her body was laying in a snowbank as stiff and frozen as a Popsicle.<\/p>\n

Continue reading with Part 2<\/a><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

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I never imagined my first Christmas back home in fifteen years would come to this. Every swear word in my vocabulary started swirling through my head as I grabbed my sixty-two year old mama tightly with both arms and pulled her away from my great Aunt Urola.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[19,20,48],"tags":[83,96,103,105,122,154],"class_list":["post-411","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-fridayflash","category-short-story","tag-christmas","tag-dark-humor","tag-flash-fiction","tag-fridayflash","tag-mafia","tag-short-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/411","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=411"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/411\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=411"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=411"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/livingwithlivewires.com\/annetylerlord\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=411"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}