All Those Shining Lights

By Andrew M. Wang

In the waning hours of Black Friday, a Yuletide spectacle appeared next door, in glittering LED glory. As Millie shuffled across the driveway to her warmed-up Buick, she used her hand to cover her eyes, wincing at the neighbors’ radiant display. She eased herself into the driver’s seat and flipped down the sun visor.

Glenn got in on the passenger side, shaking his head. “Hon, is that really necessary?”

“Yes.” Millie stole a few glances at their neighbors’ house. Lights dotted every corner of the place—dangling from the eaves, framing every window, outlining the roof and walls. Twinkling wreaths and bows hung in the front windows. An assortment of incandescent candy canes, reindeer, Santas, and snowmen stood on the lawn. “There’s something strange about a family that does that kind of thing.”

Glenn strapped on his seat belt. “What? Decorate their house?”

“Those aren’t just decorations, dear. I like Christmas lights. But this… this is like Times Square.”

Glenn wiped the condensation from the passenger side window. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“I’m sure they cost a small fortune,” Millie said.

“They can spend their money any way they want to.”

“Dear, you know Tina’s not working, and Dante’s factory job can’t be that great.”

Glenn looked over at her. “Yes… and?”

“Well, I’ve been doing some investigating. I was talking with Tina the other day, and she mentioned Dante gave her some really nice earrings for her birthday. She didn’t know where he got the resources for that kind of spending.”

“So?”

“So, he must be getting some extra money from somewhere,” Millie said. “There’s something… sketchy about Dante. Tina says he hangs out at the YMCA most weeknights after dinner. But when I go to Bible study, I’ve never seen their car in the parking lot.”

“No one asked you to spy on him, Millie.”

She adjusted the rearview mirror. “I care about Tina and the baby they’re expecting.”

“It’s none of our—”

“There’s more. I was out walking the dog last night when Dante came home. I don’t think he saw me. He seemed… preoccupied.”

Glenn nodded. “The young man’s going to be a father soon.”

“He got out of the car at the front of their driveway. Then he took something off his shoes and put it in the trashcan before he pulled the car into the garage. When I walked by their trash, I took a peek.”

“Why?”

Millie shrugged. “It… it looked suspicious.”

“Babe, you’ve got no right—”

“Honey, Dante had taken off shoe covers, soaked in blood.”

Glenn blew his cheeks out. “How do you know it was blood?”

“I grew up on a farm, dear. I know the smell.” Millie backed out of the driveway.

She began to pull forward, then screamed. A car was coming down the hill, fishtailing on the icy road. Millie stepped on the accelerator and yanked hard on the wheel. The Buick peeled off to the side and onto their neighbor’s lawn, scattering inflatable Santas and snowmen.
Thunk. The airbag deployed.

When Millie awoke, she lay on a gurney, a brace on her neck, her face throbbing, and her vision blurry. She reached up, but someone caught her hand. Glenn.

“Where am I?”

“It’s okay, hon.” His voice sounded a bit muffled and tinny. “You’re in the emergency room.”

“What?”

“Drunk driver… You swerved… hit a tree… saved us from… collision,” Glenn said. His voice started to clear. But something was wrong with her eyes. She squinted, looking at him with her left eye. That was okay. But her right eye… She could hardly see anything.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore all over. What… what’s the matter with my eye?”

Glenn rubbed the back of his head. “The doctor came by. The force of the airbag made your lens really cloudy. He called it a traumatic cataract.”

Millie sighed. “I already have cataracts.”

“Guess the injury made it worse, at least in the right eye.”

“Will I be able to see again?”

“Might need surgery.” Glenn stepped away for a moment, then returned wearing a big smile.

“Millie, there’s someone here who’d like to see you.”

Their neighbor appeared, dressed in scrubs. “Hi, Mrs. Johnson.”

“Dante, what are you doing here?”

“I work here, part-time, with the maintenance crew. I saw them bringing you in, and I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Thanks. I’m okay. I… didn’t know you worked here.”

“Nobody does. Not even Tina. She thinks I’m going to the Y, but I try to get a few hours in, here and there. I’m hoping to surprise her with a new car—a minivan—when the baby’s here.” He leaned in close, a wry smile on his lips. “Can you keep this a secret?”

Millie found it hard to speak. “Of course, Dante. And… I’m sorry. I think I tore up your front yard.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Johnson. I just hope you’ll be okay.”

Three weeks later, Millie stood on the sidewalk—Glenn on one side of her, Dante on the other. Dante’s lights were back on, in their full glory.

But she noticed a difference right away. The colors were so much brighter.

She covered one eye at a time. When she looked out her left—the one with a cataract—everything was washed out with a yellowish hue.

But when she looked with her right eye, now a week out from her cataract surgery, the colors were vibrant, her vision clear. No glare. And the shining front lawn, with all its scintillations, gave the whole street a festive, inviting atmosphere.

Dante touched her shoulder. “Mrs. Johnson, are you crying?”

“Yes. I’m just… I love Christmas and all the beautiful colors.” Millie wiped at the corner of her eyes.

“So, you like our decorations?” Dante asked.

“I love them.” Millie pulled him into an embrace and whispered into his ear. “You bring a lot of light into this world.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Andrew M. Wang and his family live in southwest Michigan. When not wielding sharp blades in the operating room, or firing lasers at people, he performs careful editorial dissection of his sentences—think of him as a word surgeon. His work can be found in Harpstring and OtherSheep. He has a particular interest in speculative fiction and may be contacted at his website.

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