If you believe in Christmas miracles, second chances, and absolute love, this remarkable gay retelling of the classic Christmas Carol will guide you through one man’s quest to recapture everything he thought he’d stopped loving, and everything he never thought he’d love again.
Wealthy Carl Smite, owner of a high-end Antiques store in Greenwich Village, hates Christmas so much he takes the last dollar bill from a sick delivery boy with one leg on Christmas Eve. Carl despises everything that is good and pure about Christmas, including the fact that his employee devotes his time to handing out free dinners at a homeless shelter. But when Carl goes to sleep on Christmas Eve, he never expects to receive a visit from the ghost of his former business partner, Marty Keller.
Marty explains that Carl will have a visit from three Christmas Ghosts that night. The solemn Ghost of Christmas Past takes Carl back to a Christmas when he was in love with the most wonderful man in the world. The beautiful Ghost of Christmas Present shows Carl what happened to the love of his life and introduces him to the son he never knew he had. And the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, who is actually the flamboyant ghost of gay icon Quentin Crisp, shows Carl what will happen to him, and all the people he loves, if he doesn’t start loving again. And while Carl is working through a Christmas Eve he’ll never forget, the romance moves toward a joyful climax of enlightenment and transition as he searches for the true meaning of life and hope.
A few minutes later, the front door opened and the bell jingled again. Carl looked up from his desk and forced a smile. He’d been reading the financial pages from yesterday’s newspaper. (Carl never bought a current paper. He just waited until the owner of the shop next door to him tossed his in the street trash cans every night.) His first thought was that a customer had entered the store. He wanted to sell at least one item that day. He was hoping it was someone older who would be attracted to him.
A thin young man wearing a flimsy denim jacket stepped into the shop. He walked with a limp. He wasn’t wearing gloves or a scarf. His brown hair had been shaved short and he wasn’t wearing a hat. There was snow on his shoulders, two small sliver hoops in each ear, and his angular face was red with windburn. He crossed to the back of the store and placed a brown bag on Carl’s desk. Then he looked Carl directly in the eye and said, “That will be nine dollars, sir.” His voice was deep and nasal. He turned his head and coughed into his elbow.
Carl’s eyebrows went up and he stepped back. He didn’t want to catch a cold from some stupid, grungy delivery boy.
The young guy cleared his throat and said, “I’m not contagious. This is just the end of a month-long cold.”