Christmas Stars
For Jon Young
Who wants their birthday on Christmas? Last time I checked… No one. Who wants to celebrate my birthday with me? Last time that happened was right after I won an Oscar. Right before my stroke. And who wants to be around a washed-up Hollywood leading man on Christmas or on his birthday? No one. The world has a short memory.
This fact used to hurt more than it does now. Today, on my 78th birthday, it’s more like a dull ache that blends in with my arthritis.
It was this that brought me to this lonely café on a Christmas afternoon.
“Your usual table Mr. Yeoman?” Casey, the owner of the café, was barely in her thirties and full of life. I spend every holiday here and any other day I don’t want to feel the pain of my loneliness and my ruined fame.
“Yes…” I sighed, “By the window.” “Your usual dessert?” Casey has never been in front of a camera, but her café is more famous than either one of us. Her Great Grandfather started it when Hollywood was known as Hollywoodland. I nodded and not long later Casey brought me a sweet bun topped with a towering pile of cream. “The best semlor outside of Sweden,” I said, a small smile escaping me. I was about to ask Casey to join me, but another customer came in. The only other one besides me. He was a tall young man, if I was standing, I’d look small next to him. He looked as miserable as I felt. “He’s early,” Casey muttered. “Another usual?” Casey nodded, “Every Christmas, but he never speaks beyond ordering.” Casey goes to attend to the young man, and I stare out the window, looking at the best Christmas scene Southern California has to offer: palm trees covered in lights, fake snow on windows and special holiday deals advertised all over the place. The few people not celebrating were walking about alone or with a few other people as if unaware that today was a holiday. “Excuse me…” The voice surprised me. I had forgotten there was anyone else here. I turned to see that the tall young man who had just come in was sitting at a table across from me. He was looking right at me. He had a hot drink in his hand. I thought maybe he needed me to pass him some sugar or something. “Are the semlor any good?” He asked in a thick Swedish accent. I only knew it was Swedish because he sounded like my uncle. “The best outside of Sweden,” I said, “A lot like the way my mother made them.” “You Swedish too?” the man asked. “Part,” I explain, “My mother is from Sweden and my father is Scottish.” The man nodded approvingly. Just then Casey came over and asked the man, “What will it be Emil?” “I will be daring today and finally try a semla,” Emil declared. “About time!” Casey gave him her warm smile that made people forget they were lonely. “I’ve been telling you for ages to try it.” “Not that I don’t trust you I needed a second…” “You didn’t trust me,” Casey said playfully. She gave him a wink and returned not long later with an identical semla for Emil. We sat in silence as we enjoyed our semlor. It was an awkward silence, at least for me. I used to enjoy the silence here. Here I could forget everything. Now, I feel obligated to have a conversation. Was I obligated? He seemed to be just as lonely as I was. Why else would he be here on Christmas? What do I say? It’s been years since I’ve had a genuine conversation with someone. Back then I usually talked about myself. That’s all people wanted me to do- talk about me and the movies I was making. I finally was daring as said, “God Jul!” Emil looked up from his phone and smiled, “God Jul, min vän!” My Swedish was rusty but I think he called me friend. When I didn’t respond Emil said in English, ”You don’t know much Swedish?” I let out an embarrassed laugh and admit, ”I’m rusty. I haven’t used it since I did that movie about Alfred Noble... That was...” I stopped to calculate, ”Over twenty years ago.” ”You an actor?” ”Was,” I corrected, ”No one wants to see this face on screen anymore.” Emil was staring at me as if trying to place my face, ”...Hal Yeoman?” ”I’m surprised anyone under forty would know me,” I muttered. ”I thought you looked familiar!” Emil sounded excited now, ”You said you were in Noble my brain put it together.” ”You saw it? I thought everyone wanted to forget that movie... I know I do...” ”It was not your best work, but your Swedish was flawless!” I couldn’t help but smile. ”Why are you here alone?” Emil asked. ”Don’t movie stars have endless parties?” I let out a laugh, ”I told you I was a movie star. No one has time for a washed-up actor.” ”Because of your stroke?” ”Why are you here?” I asked quickly, ”A young man with a lot of future ahead of him. Where are you family or friends? Shouldn’t you be playing the part of Tomten for your kids or nieces and nephews?” Emil’s face darkened and he went back to his Semlor. ”I’m really busy... I don’t have time for that.” We didn’t say anything for a time but just picked at our desserts. ”Busy doing what?” I asked suddenly. ”Huh?” ”You said you were too busy to do the Christmas thing...” ”I didn’t say I was too busy to do... I don’t have... Forget.. I should go.” Emil started to stand when I said quickly. ”And do what?” He paused in mid-stand. ”Humor an old man.” Emil sat down. ”What don’t you have time for?” I repeated. I watched Emil stab his semlor a few times as if his dessert had offended him. ”Why don’t you have time for all that stuff right now?” Emil glared at his dessert and said to it, ”Because no one had time for me.” I sat there and waited for him to explain. I knew it wasn’t easy to spill years of resentment to a stranger. “You know the worst day to have a birthday?” I still didn’t speak, but let him go, ”It’s Christmas. Every year my birthday got rolled into Christmas... and you know how big Christmas is in Sweden.” I nodded understandingly. ”I was unimportant to my family... just one of the kids... another mouth to feed. So, I left Sweden to unburden them of my presence as soon as I could.” I debated over my words. I took a bite of my dessert to buy myself some time. Emil wasn’t going to like what I needed to say. When I finished my bite I said, ”I get it... families aren’t always easy to deal with.... but the thing is... you aren’t important.” ”What?” ”You need to learn this now before you learn the hard way like I did,” I could feel my stomach tighten. I needed to hear this as much as I needed to give it, “When I was at my prime as an actor... on the wish list of many women... the envy of men... the winner of awards... I thought I was really someone... I had it all...” I paused, the memories laying heavy me me, “But I lost it all as soon as I had those strokes. My health? Gone. My good looks? Gone. My fame? Gone. All those movies I made are now in thrift stores or discount bins. Barely anyone remembers me. If I’m lucky Lifetime will do a cautionary tale about my life after I die.” ”Are you trying to cheer me up or make me more depressed?” I let out a short laugh, “Life isn’t a Hallmark or Disney movie. There isn’t a magical fix that erases problems. It’s messy and people are imperfect. You need to know that now... you have more time than I do. I learned this too late in life.” “The world will tell you how amazing you are, then drop you like a giant New York rat as whenever they want. When I had my strokes... I learned real quick how unimportant I am. ” ”What about your friends and family?” Emil inquired. ”I left them all in the dust in my climb to stardom,” I said with a heavy sigh, ”With ex-wives and friends as shallow as I was. There wasn’t a person sorry to see me go... and fans... they went off to the next name in lights.” “Sounds depressing...” I nodded and said, “It was for a long time... especially on Christmas with no one around to celebrate or to wish me a happy birthday.” Emil’s eyebrows furrowed, he looked shocked and a bit confused. But I didn’t let him say anything. “Then one Christmas and birthday I came to my favorite cafe to celebrate alone only to find out that someone had sent another just as lonely as I am and just as bitter as I used to be about sharing the limelight of my birthday.” “Today is your birthday too?” Emil asked in shock. I nodded, “For the past seventy-eight years.” “That’s a crazy coincidence!” “I don’t believe in coincidences.” Emil leaned back, folding his arms, frowning, ”What are talking about Mr. Yeoman?” ”I’ve lived through too many decades to know that things rarely happen without work or Someone planning them... My luck isn’t that good... too many trips to Vegas to prove that!” Emil continued to frown at me. “And today just confirmed that,” I continued. When Emil continued to look doubtful I recited, ”Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father…” I paused to remember, “…The Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who… Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that… we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble…” “I didn’t take you to be a Bible reading, church… person,” Emil said coldly. I shrugged and said, “I’ve had a lot of time on my hands.” “Hm!” was all I got out of Emil. The longer I looked at Emil the more I saw myself at his age. He wasn’t aiming to be in front of a camera, but he certainly wanted to shine just as much as I did. “Not many people share our birthday,” I began, “I’ve learned it’s our job to be as much of a star as He was because it’s a yearly reminder that He too was born to be a star. Stars give light, guide, bring in the wanderers and give them a path.” “Why are you telling me this?” Emil asked, “What’s your point?” “I didn’t do my job as a Christmas Star… I pushed everyone away. But you…” I pointed at him with my wrinkled, withered hand, “You still have some shine left in you.” I could see the doubt beginning to melt in him. The hardness in his eyes lessened. He unfolded his arms. Emil leaned forward and said, “You’re wrong.” It was my turn to raise my eyebrows questioningly at him. “You still have plenty more to give.”
“Yes…” I sighed, “By the window.” “Your usual dessert?” Casey has never been in front of a camera, but her café is more famous than either one of us. Her Great Grandfather started it when Hollywood was known as Hollywoodland. I nodded and not long later Casey brought me a sweet bun topped with a towering pile of cream. “The best semlor outside of Sweden,” I said, a small smile escaping me. I was about to ask Casey to join me, but another customer came in. The only other one besides me. He was a tall young man, if I was standing, I’d look small next to him. He looked as miserable as I felt. “He’s early,” Casey muttered. “Another usual?” Casey nodded, “Every Christmas, but he never speaks beyond ordering.” Casey goes to attend to the young man, and I stare out the window, looking at the best Christmas scene Southern California has to offer: palm trees covered in lights, fake snow on windows and special holiday deals advertised all over the place. The few people not celebrating were walking about alone or with a few other people as if unaware that today was a holiday. “Excuse me…” The voice surprised me. I had forgotten there was anyone else here. I turned to see that the tall young man who had just come in was sitting at a table across from me. He was looking right at me. He had a hot drink in his hand. I thought maybe he needed me to pass him some sugar or something. “Are the semlor any good?” He asked in a thick Swedish accent. I only knew it was Swedish because he sounded like my uncle. “The best outside of Sweden,” I said, “A lot like the way my mother made them.” “You Swedish too?” the man asked. “Part,” I explain, “My mother is from Sweden and my father is Scottish.” The man nodded approvingly. Just then Casey came over and asked the man, “What will it be Emil?” “I will be daring today and finally try a semla,” Emil declared. “About time!” Casey gave him her warm smile that made people forget they were lonely. “I’ve been telling you for ages to try it.” “Not that I don’t trust you I needed a second…” “You didn’t trust me,” Casey said playfully. She gave him a wink and returned not long later with an identical semla for Emil. We sat in silence as we enjoyed our semlor. It was an awkward silence, at least for me. I used to enjoy the silence here. Here I could forget everything. Now, I feel obligated to have a conversation. Was I obligated? He seemed to be just as lonely as I was. Why else would he be here on Christmas? What do I say? It’s been years since I’ve had a genuine conversation with someone. Back then I usually talked about myself. That’s all people wanted me to do- talk about me and the movies I was making. I finally was daring as said, “God Jul!” Emil looked up from his phone and smiled, “God Jul, min vän!” My Swedish was rusty but I think he called me friend. When I didn’t respond Emil said in English, ”You don’t know much Swedish?” I let out an embarrassed laugh and admit, ”I’m rusty. I haven’t used it since I did that movie about Alfred Noble... That was...” I stopped to calculate, ”Over twenty years ago.” ”You an actor?” ”Was,” I corrected, ”No one wants to see this face on screen anymore.” Emil was staring at me as if trying to place my face, ”...Hal Yeoman?” ”I’m surprised anyone under forty would know me,” I muttered. ”I thought you looked familiar!” Emil sounded excited now, ”You said you were in Noble my brain put it together.” ”You saw it? I thought everyone wanted to forget that movie... I know I do...” ”It was not your best work, but your Swedish was flawless!” I couldn’t help but smile. ”Why are you here alone?” Emil asked. ”Don’t movie stars have endless parties?” I let out a laugh, ”I told you I was a movie star. No one has time for a washed-up actor.” ”Because of your stroke?” ”Why are you here?” I asked quickly, ”A young man with a lot of future ahead of him. Where are you family or friends? Shouldn’t you be playing the part of Tomten for your kids or nieces and nephews?” Emil’s face darkened and he went back to his Semlor. ”I’m really busy... I don’t have time for that.” We didn’t say anything for a time but just picked at our desserts. ”Busy doing what?” I asked suddenly. ”Huh?” ”You said you were too busy to do the Christmas thing...” ”I didn’t say I was too busy to do... I don’t have... Forget.. I should go.” Emil started to stand when I said quickly. ”And do what?” He paused in mid-stand. ”Humor an old man.” Emil sat down. ”What don’t you have time for?” I repeated. I watched Emil stab his semlor a few times as if his dessert had offended him. ”Why don’t you have time for all that stuff right now?” Emil glared at his dessert and said to it, ”Because no one had time for me.” I sat there and waited for him to explain. I knew it wasn’t easy to spill years of resentment to a stranger. “You know the worst day to have a birthday?” I still didn’t speak, but let him go, ”It’s Christmas. Every year my birthday got rolled into Christmas... and you know how big Christmas is in Sweden.” I nodded understandingly. ”I was unimportant to my family... just one of the kids... another mouth to feed. So, I left Sweden to unburden them of my presence as soon as I could.” I debated over my words. I took a bite of my dessert to buy myself some time. Emil wasn’t going to like what I needed to say. When I finished my bite I said, ”I get it... families aren’t always easy to deal with.... but the thing is... you aren’t important.” ”What?” ”You need to learn this now before you learn the hard way like I did,” I could feel my stomach tighten. I needed to hear this as much as I needed to give it, “When I was at my prime as an actor... on the wish list of many women... the envy of men... the winner of awards... I thought I was really someone... I had it all...” I paused, the memories laying heavy me me, “But I lost it all as soon as I had those strokes. My health? Gone. My good looks? Gone. My fame? Gone. All those movies I made are now in thrift stores or discount bins. Barely anyone remembers me. If I’m lucky Lifetime will do a cautionary tale about my life after I die.” ”Are you trying to cheer me up or make me more depressed?” I let out a short laugh, “Life isn’t a Hallmark or Disney movie. There isn’t a magical fix that erases problems. It’s messy and people are imperfect. You need to know that now... you have more time than I do. I learned this too late in life.” “The world will tell you how amazing you are, then drop you like a giant New York rat as whenever they want. When I had my strokes... I learned real quick how unimportant I am. ” ”What about your friends and family?” Emil inquired. ”I left them all in the dust in my climb to stardom,” I said with a heavy sigh, ”With ex-wives and friends as shallow as I was. There wasn’t a person sorry to see me go... and fans... they went off to the next name in lights.” “Sounds depressing...” I nodded and said, “It was for a long time... especially on Christmas with no one around to celebrate or to wish me a happy birthday.” Emil’s eyebrows furrowed, he looked shocked and a bit confused. But I didn’t let him say anything. “Then one Christmas and birthday I came to my favorite cafe to celebrate alone only to find out that someone had sent another just as lonely as I am and just as bitter as I used to be about sharing the limelight of my birthday.” “Today is your birthday too?” Emil asked in shock. I nodded, “For the past seventy-eight years.” “That’s a crazy coincidence!” “I don’t believe in coincidences.” Emil leaned back, folding his arms, frowning, ”What are talking about Mr. Yeoman?” ”I’ve lived through too many decades to know that things rarely happen without work or Someone planning them... My luck isn’t that good... too many trips to Vegas to prove that!” Emil continued to frown at me. “And today just confirmed that,” I continued. When Emil continued to look doubtful I recited, ”Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father…” I paused to remember, “…The Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who… Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that… we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble…” “I didn’t take you to be a Bible reading, church… person,” Emil said coldly. I shrugged and said, “I’ve had a lot of time on my hands.” “Hm!” was all I got out of Emil. The longer I looked at Emil the more I saw myself at his age. He wasn’t aiming to be in front of a camera, but he certainly wanted to shine just as much as I did. “Not many people share our birthday,” I began, “I’ve learned it’s our job to be as much of a star as He was because it’s a yearly reminder that He too was born to be a star. Stars give light, guide, bring in the wanderers and give them a path.” “Why are you telling me this?” Emil asked, “What’s your point?” “I didn’t do my job as a Christmas Star… I pushed everyone away. But you…” I pointed at him with my wrinkled, withered hand, “You still have some shine left in you.” I could see the doubt beginning to melt in him. The hardness in his eyes lessened. He unfolded his arms. Emil leaned forward and said, “You’re wrong.” It was my turn to raise my eyebrows questioningly at him. “You still have plenty more to give.”
THE END
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