The following story is fiction. It is a “what if” rendering of the nativity that will attempt to illustrate the hope and promise that Christmas represents for anyone, anywhere at anytime.

A stable was His shelter then - Now He abides in the hearts of men.

Warning: strong language, adult situations and minor violence.

Part One

The day Mayor Guilliani forced Davey out of his business in Times Square was the day he started making his partner, Junior a rich man. Junior remembered the day driving out to Jersey with Davey; scouting out new locations for their business. Davey never said a thing about the unfairness of being pushed out of the city. He was pretty philosophical about it.

“Junior, it’s a damned good thing.” Davey said, rolling his window down a bit as he lit up a Camel. “It’s things like this that make ya wake up. It’s the man upstairs givin’ you a heads up. I had this idea in my head an’ it took this whole mess with the law cleanin’ out the dowtown to bring it ta the surface, ya know?”

“Yeah Dave. I know what ya mean.” Junior said, even though he didn’t really have much of a clue. Junior was generally just along for the ride. He was the nuts and bolts guy. Davey was the one with the ideas. Junior was frankly wondering why they were out driving around in Jersey and he was just waiting for Davey to tell him. After the shocks of the last few months and the eventual loss of their business Junior was at a little bit of a loss. Davey squinted out the windshield and picked some tobacco out of his teeth.

“The way I see it, how we been doin’ business has been out of date and out of touch. We gotta expand our horizons. We’ll keep the bookshop and the peepshows an’ even the live stuff, but we gotta go ta where the money is, which is why I got ya out here. Lookit all these big-azzed houses.”

Since they crossed over from the island they’d been bearing south towards Rawhey. Junior knew the way pretty well; a lot of his family’d been down at the penitentiary. You’d drive through south Cranbrook and a couple other snotty bedroom communities and all of a sudden there’s the prison, just spitting distance from some of the biggest concentration of wealth in the country. If Davey was gonna tap into some of that, Junior wanted in.

That’s exactly what happened. The Keyhole Klub opened in a strip mall smack dab in the middle of a triangle formed by three small towns with tax bases rivaling large Midwestern cities and where even the garbage men could afford yearly cruise vacations. The first year of business flew by and Junior was quickly becoming a millionaire. Seemed Davey was right. The suburbs were thirsting for adult entertainment. It was so busy that Junior rarely got time off from the club. They had decided to meet the demand by staying open seven days a week, 16 hours a day. Junior thrived on the work and so did Davey. It wasn’t too long before they were out driving around again; scouting out a spot for the Keyhole Klub #2.

“There it is! There it is! Lookit! Lookit!” Davey pointed, swinging his arm in front of Junior’s face who was trying to concentrate on his driving. In his excitement Davey forgot that they were hurtling down a two-lane doing better than eighty. It was snowing like crazy; fat flakes slapping down from the sky and clogging the windshield. Junior pushed Davey’s arm out of the way just in time to see that they’d drifted onto the shoulder. In a split second Junior saw people ahead. And some sort of large animal. A horse or a pony. In a slow motion dilation of panic and fear, Junior could see through the snowy gloom that there was someone riding the animal’s back. He jerked the wheel back towards the road. Davey was yelling at him about missing the turn off while Junior scanned the rear view. He saw the people receding. They were stooped, ragged. Not even looking up at the vehicle that had just grazed them. Davey was hollering about catching the next crossover and going back. He insisted that Junior see the new location. Davey thought it was perfect. Turned out it was a gigantic warehouse. Davey went on and on about building a “Wal-Mart of Adult Entertainment”. Later on, Junior settled into his office back at the club getting ready for the long night shift; his head spinning with all the information Davey had been chattering on about non-stop on the way back.

It was Christmas Eve. It was going to be quiet and Junior was looking forward to catching up on his paperwork, maybe go online and check out some porn sites. Davey was a genius at the club business, but Junior figured he was missing the boat with the Internet. Computers fascinated Junior and he was good at working with them. Internet porn was a huge universe of money. All Junior had to do was figure an angle and they’d have their own personal fire hose of money. At least I will have a firehose spewing money,, Junior thought.

Davey thrived on the seven day a week grind, but Junior was getting tired of it. Davey loved all the partying, the girls, all the sex. Junior saw it as too much of a good thing, and lately it seemed like he never saw daylight or went anyplace that didn’t smell like stale beer, wet carpet, and worked over women. The smell permeated his skin. He’d taken to having three or four showers a day. Yeah, getting into the Internet side of things was the way to go.

Junior was in the middle of signing up for a subscription to a web site featuring access to an on-line porn soap opera when one of the bouncers called him on the walkie-talkie.
“Boss, you gotta come down and see this.”
Junior didn’t want to walk away from the computer. Signing up for things was a pain and he knew he’d end up starting all over if he left now.

“Jesus, Casey! What is it? I’m in the middle of somethin’ here!”
“Jesus is exactly it boss! You gotta come down here, some of the boys are kinda freakin’ out.”

Junior could hear some yelling in the background. A lot of it in Spanish. There was a fistfight or something going on down there. Sounded like it was right in the lobby. Junior book-marked the page and logged off. Immediately five or six pop-ups sprang onto the screen. Exasperated, Junior punched the power button off and headed downstairs. He liked the porn soap opera angle a lot. That should get the women into the stuff as well as the guys. Junior had a feeling if you could get the women into watching porn in a big way, it’d be like getting the soccer moms into the casinos – once you had them, it was like having your own ATM.

When Junior got down to the lobby and the front doorway, Casey and a couple of the other bouncers were huddled in front of the coat room door. The lobby of the club was sumptuous Art Deco. It was dark, huge and mostly empty on this holiday eve. The front door was gigantic, one of those big padded things with one large keyhole-shaped window in it. The window had a cover on it like an old time speakeasy.

The Keyhole Klub was members only and Davey had insisted it be tricked out like an old Playboy club with bar area and cabaret rooms done in sixties, Vegas Rat Pack decor. The worker bees from the ‘burbs ate it up. They would come to the club all dressed up in their Armanis and Rolexes so they could stand in a peep show booth and whip their skippies in front of a woman not their wife or girlfriend. Or they could pay an extra premium for entrance into the Kristal Keyhole, which was the sex club aspect of the business, complete with couples nights, ladies nights, Men’s smoker nights, and all kinds of other “special services”. Right now, at near midnight of Christmas Eve, the place was only half full. Davey liked to call these days “Eleanor Rigby days”, because of all the lonely, pitiful people that populated the club then. Junior didn’t share Davey’s contempt; he just felt sorry for them and hoped he provided some sort of comfort. Twisted as it was.

Casey spotted Junior standing at the bottom of the stairs, surveying the scene. He came running over.
“Boss! You’re not gonna believe it! Some chick’s havin’ a baby in the coat room!”
Junior brushed by Casey with a few choice words and plowed his way into the room.
“What the hell!? What’s goin’ on down here!”

End of Part 1