Part 3

Nightmare on 34th Street: A Xmas Grotesque

NIGHTMARE ON 34TH STREET: A XMAS GROTESQUE

Words + Music by Geordie McElroy

Part 3

Secret Santa’s crossed off the list

Drug dealers, arsonists, thieves

Necrophiliacs and mountebanks

Cops excised disease

Bodies found in alleyways

Sedan trunks by the docks

Arcades, bars, overpriced condos

In a playground sandbox

Some with bullets between the eyes

Some had jugulars ripped

Some injected with tree frog venom

Some dumped in ditches, stripped

Bodies piled high down at the morgue

As the winter weather cooled

Coroner ruled them accidents

Homicide had all fooled

***

Portia lunched with Muffy and Luz

“What a story to tell

Here’s my latest acquisition

Ladies, behold Noel”

“Isn’t she the waif you booted?”

“Yes, indeed, she’s the thief

Caught her in my charity globe

I gave the orphan relief”

“We welcomed her into our home

Hope she comes to trust us

This is what charity truly is:

Restorative justice”

“The criminal system is a mess

Trust me, group homes broken

So, I adopted this delinquent

You just took in tokens”

“Mercedes, please take our Noel

To sit on Ruprecht’s lap

Sure she love to tell him about

Dodging criminal wrap”

***

Mercedes paraded casting

Elbows and aspersions

To anyone blocking her way

Departments transversing

Noel followed at the girl’s heels

Into Christmas village

They cut the line and found Ruprecht

Koopman’s family privilege

“Excuse me, sir,” Noel piped up

“They say your name’s Ruprecht

But I’ve been watching you closely

Suspect that’s incorrect”

“Is your true name really St. Nick?

You seem to be the source

Of all those legends about him

I could be wrong, of course”

“Someone has been using your name

Your reputation’s heft

To drain the youth from orphan girls

Until there’s nothing left”

Ruprecht stared at the young orphan

And asked: “Are you the one?”

But then their rendezvous cut short

In walked Lt. Dunn

He flashed his badge, approached Ruprecht

The line drew to a halt

“Last night, what were your whereabouts?

Do you know Jacques Perrault?”

Noel spotted the flashing shield

She turned, in terror ran

Was this the goon from the North Pole?

The man who took Roxanne?

Portia stopped the inquisition

“What’s the meaning of this?

You’re ruining Christmas business

I insist that you desist”

“Unless you have a warrant here

Exit the way you came”

Dunn locked eyes with Portia Koopman

His Secret Santa name

“I’m here to find our what happened

To your head of HR

You know we found him dead last night

In furthest reaches of the park?”

“Yes, I know, it’s something shameful

Doubt that he deserved it

But I had a keen suspicion

Perault was a pervert”

***

Koopman’s penthouse above the store

Chic duplex high-rise

A monumental Douglas fir

Their Christmas tree, turquoise

Objects d’art, antiques for days

Unreads by the yard on oak shelves

Walls covered with portraits of Portia

Commissioned by herself

“I’ve always wanted a sister”

Mercedes told Noel

“I’m so glad we get to save you

Poverty looks like hell”

“I love your hair, those bouncy curls

Are you Puerto Rican?”

“I don’t know, I’m from the North Pole

St. Nick, I need to see him”

“St. Nick? No, that guy is Ruprecht

He’s just some bum we pay

You’ll get a chance to talk to him

At Christmas Eve soiree”

“Who would have guessed? We’re the same size”

Mercedes tore through clothes

Closet bigger than the lighthouse

They put on fashion show

They played dressed up and did their hair

The whole east wing take-over

Burlap sack, a thing of the past

Noel got full make-over

***

Izzy carried belonging out

Boxes filled elevator

“You’re replacing me with Noel?

She’s straight trash, I hate her”

Portia taunted raging step-son:

“This is a chance to grow

We need your room for the new girl

You’ll be happy with Flo”

“Won’t Mercedes need her nanny?”

Izzy, furious, asked

Portia sighed: “Not since she was ten

Flo tends to your ass”

Portia heading to west wing screamed:

Bring Killer to the pound!

That bitch has gone and wrecked my home

If not, I’ll put her down

“No!” Mercedes cried from kitchen

As Killer wheezed down cheese

“I want to keep the pup up here

To replace Sniffles, please”

Steve Koopman sighed, relented:

“You can keep her, of course”

Despite the damage hellhounds do

Still cheaper than a horse

Killer saddled up to Noel

Canine licked the girl’s hand

As she scratched dog’s belly below

Obeyed orphan’s commands

Noel asked where I’ll be sleeping

“Repose in Killers crate”

A dog cage was better than her cell

“Boy! Well that just sounds great"

Mercedes said: “I’m just joshing

You’ll sleep in Izzy’s room

This city will toughen you up

You’ll lose your softness soon”

***

Izzy at Flo's dinner table

Her whole family around

“No idea you had a husband

Or three children in town”

“Where did you think I was going

When I left your penthouse?”

Izzy shrugged, “Maybe Trinidad

Or somewhere way down south”

Izzy gobbled down salt cod

Roti, aloo pie and pelau

Flo asked: “will you be staying long?”

“Until I figure it out”

“I need to convince my family

That orphan Noel stinks

She’s a criminal mastermind

Despite what they all think”

“I can’t believe they took my suite

And gave it to that waif

I detained her stealing from us

Somehow it’s my mistake?”

Izzy crushed his second portion

Grabbed fistful of jamoon

Said: “If anybody needs me

I’ll be in my new room”

***

Noel cuddled up with Killer

Late in Izzy’s quarters

The shelves full of well-worn books

Burdened being smarter

The walls full of mounted degrees

A dazzling CV

He studied film, conceptual art

And musicology

If he were so well educated

Why did he live at home?

What was the purpose of knowledge

If it keeps you alone?

Why did the Koopman’s adopt her

At the expense of their son?

Was this how rich people live life?

Was this just how it’s done?

***

Izzy sat on the lower bunk

In Flo’s younger sons room

And stared at Noel’s old matchbook

Cold jealousy consumed

He read: North Pole Gentleman’s Club

And then chortled: “Losers

Only a fool goes to strip clubs

Simple self-abusers”

Izzy flipped open the match book

And found a bloody print

Over a list of people’s names

And one caused him to squint

A knock on the door started him

Izzy lashed out, fuming

“But you’re in my room” Flo’s son said

The name: Portia Koopman

***

Noel walked through penthouse west wing

Hallway lined with mirrors

Countless reflections distorted

Thousand Portia’s appeared

The matron whispered to Noel

“What was it that you saw

When you were inside that snow globe?

Hate to bring in the law”

How could Noel know the answer?

Why did she take her in?

Why did this stranger fake charity?

“I didn’t see a thing”

"Well, that’s a descent response

Just keep it to yourself

If anyone ask about it

The best answer is stealth”

Noel perplexed, didn’t comprehend

What Portia was about

This lady seemed so rich and proud

But soon began to doubt

***

The screen glow illuminating

Izzy’s frantic research

Exploring matchbook’s name list

And soon the flood gates burst

Every name on the log deceased

All mysterious deaths

Each one was ruled accidental

Portia, the last one left

Micah Wohl, electrocuted

Jim Gunn, hit and run

Timothy Barth shot 16 times

Tom Hawkes flambeed by sun?

All of these deaths were homicide

Izzy sure deduced

Assassin covering their tracks

As hit list got reduced

Who could be the supervillain?

That ragged waif Noel?

Who’s were these bloody prints on book?

Forensic test might tell

***

Izzy and Steve’s met in the park

Dad assured son: “All is well

The situation temporary

But Portia, let’s not tell”

Izzy huffed: “Unbelievable

The orphan is a butcher

I found proof of Noel’s wicked ways

And yet, in, you took her”

“Take a look at this old matchbook

I found in her burlap

Everyone listed on docket

Is taking a dirt nap”

“Getting caught her plan all along

To infiltrate our home

It’s only a matter of time

Before true colors show”

“The only name not yet muted

Only breathing human

Someone quite near and dear to you

Your wife: Portia Koopman”

Steve eyed the matchbook:

“Have you been in my stuff?”

“What? No! I found it on the orphan

Tucked up in burlap cuff”

Steve sighed, put his hand on Izzy:

“You’re not cut out to guard

What you really want is justice

But execution’s hard”

“I think I may have failed you son

Why don’t we give a try

To see all of life’s finer things

Luxuries money buys”

****

Steve and son at athletic club

To conquer racquetball

Izzy spent, sweating in corner

Greasing court where he sprawled

Then they tripped to the tailor

To fit for suits bespoke

Clothier saw Izzy’s waist size

Assumed it was a joke

Sallied to the art galleries

Culture’s worth remind him

“What?!? This sculpture mode late, third rate”

The artist right behind him

Then to midtown for theatre

To catch a musical show

Izzy appalled by song and dance

Acting, sets, and those clothes!

After the show, a hotel bar

“One virgin colada…

No? I’ll take a Shirley temple

Fine… I prefer Ramada”

“You need to learn to drink scotch, son

The beverage of power”

Izzy got whirlwind nauseous

Barfing in the flowers

Then to three star restaurant

Clever, delicate plates

Nothing could satisfy the boy

He barely felt he ate

Their final stop was Koopman’s yacht

Too bad weather freezing

With Izzy’s claustrophobia

Voyage far from pleasing

The marina was full of rats

Docked yet Izzy nauseous

Bundled in children’s life jacket

The boy was extra cautious

His mother died on the water

Parasail line snapped

She got tangled up in the ropes

And then the sharks attacked

Steve Koopman finally realized

His plan for Izzy failed

“Do I even care for money?

Or burden it entails?”

“Wouldn’t I be much happier

Out upon the water

Without the store,uPortia, paramour

And pop crooner daughter”

***

“We’re going to the studio”

Mercedes told Noel

“Didn’t know you were a singer”

“With my style? Can’t you tell?”

“Creatives must make music

It’s instinct, not a choice

You’d probably hear me singing more

I need to save my voice”

“Here’s a track from my producer

Soon when my vocals spark it

We’re riding a loophole right into

The Canadian market”

“His name is Serj, he’s from Moosejaw

I met him at the rink

He deejays cosmic skating night

I’ll sing it now I think”

Mercedes grabbed her cellular

And left Serj a voice mail

Through wi-fi call, her caterwaul

Lacked melody, feel, detail

“That’s it,” Mercedes said, “We’re done

Tomorrow morning its dropping

We’ll just let Serj work his magic touch

Now it’s time for shopping”

"But first you need to clean my room

Take Killer for a walk

Do my laundry, fold my clothes

And this time pair my socks”

“Isn’t it great being sisters?

I almost want to sing

Gonna need to straighten your hair

Now on, curls are my...