Meredith was so excited she could
hardly contain herself.  The UPS driver presented the package to her then cleared his throat and waited. THE PACKAGE By Aleta Hallemeier  
        “Oh, I forgot!”  She pressed her thumb against the electronic scan board; a bright blue light swished up and down, confirming her identity and acceptance of the package. 
        “Thanks, lady.  Merry Christmas,” he half-heartedly offered.  As he jogged back through the slush to his big brown truck, she closed the door and sniffed the package.  It smelled like cellophane tape and Styrofoam.  She loved getting parcels delivered and this was by far the best one ever.  Meredith pressed the box close to her heart and shut her eyes in radiant joy.
        A moment later, she had slipped on her reading glasses to examine the box’s label.  It was beautiful. She knew it would be.  The 3-D image shimmered with red and green confetti around the “HO-HO-HO Inc.” logo.  She had wanted one of these for years!  She could hardly believe she was actually holding it in her arms.
  
Gleeful laughter bubbled up in her
throat as she carried the box to the kitchen.  She placed it on the breakfast nook table, switched on the coffee pot and got a tin of Christmas cookies down from the cupboard.   Meredith poured coffee and cream into a Santa face mug, never taking her eyes off the package.  The anticipation was making her giddy, but why not let the thrill last a tiny bit longer?  She counted out five cookies and put them on a plate.  There.  Knife in hand, she slid into the nook.
        Willard would pop a cork when he found out she had ordered something from the Shopping Network again.  He had all but forbidden her from even watching the show any longer.  But this was different from the lifetime supply of green, spray-on lawn paint, or the robotic dog walker.  Meredith frowned.  She needed to remember to put up more “Missing Dog” posters at the Mega-Mart, with a picture of Muffin and that stupid robot.
        Well, this invention was going to make Willard’s life so much easier that he would forgive her for charging the $250.  Why only two years ago, when these came on the market, people stood in line for days—days!—to get the chance to buy one for $1,500.  Folks would put them on the Internet to sell for twice that much.  How she had longed for one then!
  
Unable to delay her gratification a
second more, Meredith sliced the knife’s edge through the tape with surgical precision.  The flaps popped open, revealing the shipping invoice and an insert that read:
  
                             HO-HO-HO, Inc.

           HO-HO-HO!  Hoffman’s Holiday
    Holograms thanks you for your purchase of
    virtual decorations.  Never again will you spend
    hours of your valuable time decorating for the
    holidays, only to have to spend even more time
    taking them down again in the New Year.
           Just imagine the amount of storage space
    you will be able to enjoy, now that you will not
    have to pack up ornaments and greenery into
    huge and bulky boxes.  Just place a HO-HO-HO
    cube in the designated area, choose a style and
    color setting, then press “START.”
           It’s as simple as that.  Your home is now
    decorated and full of Christmas cheer!
     
Meredith quit reading at that point to
dig through the foam bits for the cubes.  She had ordered the deluxe set, which contained five virtual decorations.  She carefully pulled each one out and

 set it reverently on the table beside the box.  The cubes were two inches square and made out of a
black plastic-like material.  On one side was the projecting lens, on the opposite side, a series of buttons and settings. 
        Under “Style,” one could choose from traditional, modern, or country.  Under “Color” selections, the choices included red/green, blue/white, purple/god, rose/burgundy, and black/teal.  The tops of the cubes were labeled “Christmas Tree, “Mantel,” “Wreath,” “Stairwell” and “Centerpiece.”
  
Meredith had known for two years
how she was going to adjust the settings: Traditional, red/green all the way.  After making her selection, she carefully placed the cubes in their appropriate areas.  She didn’t know which one to activate first.  Maybe she should wait for Willard, so they could enjoy it together.
        No, she would turn them on now so he could see the house fully decorated.  He would be so happy he didn’t have to lug boxes up from the basement and down from the attic that he wouldn’t be cross over the money she’d spent.
        She settled on the tree.  Meredith bent down and pressed the START button.  Nothing happened.  Frantically she poked the button again.  Still nothing.  She tried the mantel, then the stairwell and centerpiece, but to her horrible disappointment, none of them worked.  How could this be?  
        She ran to the table and picked up the packing slip again:
  
           We hope you have many years of delight
   with your HO-HO-HO decorations.  Remember—
   fusion batteries are not included.
    
    
                         About The Author
  
       Aleta Hallemeier, fresh from her first publication credit in Issue #116 of Calliope, submitted this piece for the holidays.  She writes from Albuquerque, New Mexico, where she lives with her husband John and two cats.  During daylight hours, she is employed at the local natural history museum as a child wrangler and peddler of plastic dinosaurs.
       She says that writing enables her to sort through issues and see the humor in life.  A local writers’ group provided encouragement and guidance.  Currently she is working on a longer work of fiction, about a people-pleasing control freak and a disillusioned, misguided cop.
    
                                  Copyright © Aleta Hallemeier