The Family Game by Catherine Steadman (35)

The Krampus, I read on, in Central European folklore, is a horned anthropomorphic creature; a mythical half-goat, half-demon monster who must punish misbehaving children at Christmastime. Krampus is the evil brother or “shadow self” of St. Nicholas. Traditionally the pair appear as a team, working together, with St. Nicholas (the patron saint of children) rewarding the good once a year while Krampus punishes the bad. The legend of the Krampus is believed to have originated in Germany and Eastern Europe, the name deriving from the Germanic word Krampen, meaning “claw.” The Krampus is often depicted as a Christmas devil carrying chains and birch sticks, which he uses to whip bad children, and a sack on his back in which he can drag them to hell.

Drag them to hell. Jesus, actual, Christ.

Krampusnacht celebrations often include an appearance of the two characters and usually end in children receiving presents, in shoes they have left out—something nice if they have been good and birch sticks or coal if they have been bad.

Okay, so they don’t get dragged to hell, at least. That’s a relief. I suppose, in a way, it kind of sounds like trick-or-treating. Perhaps Krampusnacht is a sort of Christmassy Halloween for Eastern Europeans. It could be a fun night, I reason tentatively, though it does potentially sound like low-level child abuse. But then I guess even the tooth fairy could take on a sinister edge viewed through other cultures. Why would a fairy need to collect so many human teeth? What does she do with them?

Krampusnacht games: races are popular in some European countries such as Austria, Germany, and the Czech Republic, where a costumed Krampus will terrorize excited children into behaving themselves throughout the year.

Outdoor games. I suppose that explains why I might need a torch. Fiona said Edward had brought one last year. How did I not know he attended this event last year? You’d think he might have mentioned it at least in passing on one of our long-distance Zooms. I guess he’d have worried it would sound weird, but as weird as it does sound, I am interested. Still, it would seem I’m interested in everything to do with Edward and his bizarre family.

I round the corner of our building, stride into the lobby, and head straight for the lift up to the apartment. I have a lot of questions for Edward, and I presume he has answers.





17


Forewarned Is Forearmed


MONDAY, DECEMBER 12



Edward face-palms when I tell him that I’ve signed us up for Krampusnacht. “You’ve done it again, haven’t you?” he asks, half amused, half incredulous. “Accepted an offer with absolutely no idea of what you’re getting yourself into. Why the hell didn’t you just say we were busy?”

“Because we’re not busy, and your family is making a lot of offers and I can’t turn them all down. Besides, I thought it might be fun. Festive.”

He snorts a laugh. “Yeah, it’ll be festive. You’ve basically signed us up for a night of babysitting, you know that, right?” he says with a light shake of the head.

“We’re hardly babysitting, Ed. It’s a party? Or a dinner, isn’t it? I don’t know,” I admit. “But I think it’s sweet that Billy wants me to come. He likes me; it’s cute.”

“Of course he likes you. You are the most caring person I know. It’s crazy that you don’t see that. Even Billy sees it.” He pulls me close to him, his arms round my shoulders. “It’s the first thing I noticed about you. Beautiful and kind. It’s rarer than you’d think.”

I give him side-eye. “Thanks for the flattery, but it’s not going to get you out of explaining to me what the hell a Krampus is.”

He laughs, releasing me. Perching on a kitchen stool, he splays his hands out on the countertop. “Okay, where to start? A potted history of Holbeck Krampusnacht. I guess it started with Mitzi; her family did it and she brought it over from Germany with her. Alfred and Mitzi did it for their kids when they had them—that was my father’s father and his uncles. Then when my dad was a kid, his parents did it until they, you know—”

“Died?” I offer.

“Yeah, and after that Dad moved in with Alfred and Mitzi at The Hydes and they did Krampus Night there for him and his friends. Then we came along, and Mom and Dad did it for us at The Hydes. Then Oliver had kids and now it happens at their place. It’s just kept going. It’s fun, I promise you. Weird, but—”

“How weird?” I chip in again.

He laughs. “Pretty. But…mostly just harmless fun. Hide-and-seek, parlor games, scary masks and costumes. Kids love it. Well, it terrifies them, but you know what I mean. It’s character building. That’s why Dad kept it going for us and why Ollie does it for his kids. Maybe one day we’ll do it for our—”

“Whoa there!” I interject quickly. “Let’s just get through one Krampusnacht before we start making sweeping statements, okay?”

“Okay,” he says with a shrug of acceptance.

“Great. Now, why exactly do I need a torch?”



* * *



—

As I lie in bed that night, not for the first time, I try to imagine the bizarre childhood Edward and his siblings must have had. I picture Robert as their father, how he must have been with them, how he must have wanted to share a piece of his own childhood with them. And then my thoughts move to Eleanor, the woman holding the whole family together, her old-world connections and diplomacy capable of anything but discussing death with her own children. The Holbeck siblings sent off to their respective psychiatrists and the gap Bobby left filled with other things. The day Bobby died, all of the expectations and responsibilities heaped on him fell to Edward. No wonder things have been hard between Edward and his family; this was never his birthright. All of this duty should never have been his to bear; I can’t blame him for running scared from a family that ostensibly killed the last guy who had the job before him.