On Nicollet Mall the city has been hanging wreaths and stapling holly to the lampposts. There are Yuletide banners strung between the buildings. The downtown business committee has decided to be more welcoming to its citizens in order to net their seasonal dollars, but it doesn’t work, and they are at a loss. It is clear that people want to shop where they live. Since most still work downtown, those jobs, at least, haven’t leaked out into the suburbs, though the last thing city workers want to do is stay downtown. This is becoming clearer as the season draws on to Christmas. No amount of bunting or carols, piped through the tinny loudspeakers mounted on the lampposts, will do the trick. The old-world cobbles don’t matter to shopping feet, nor do the window displays at Dayton’s draw them in. The shoppers aren’t fooled, the Cities aren’t New York City, they know Dayton’s isn’t Macy’s and they drive wearily out of the city to shop at newly built suburban malls where, though they won’t be surprised, at least they know what they’ll get.

The abandoned storefronts and scabby discount basements between Nicollet and 94W lead like tunnels toward the Southside, where there are no banners and the Salvation Army no longer sets up on the corners; they quit asking the damned for redemption long ago.

Betty stays put. Christmas seems smaller this year, a tight season of cold and ice, far from the blistering furor of Galilee. She has only Lincoln and One-Two to buy for, but the mood of their little community is so precarious, her heart isn’t really in it. Simon has been out of jail for nine months. One-Two admitted going down to the Curtis. Other than that, there has been little contact between them.

One-Two and Lincoln hang on all of Betty’s moods, careful not to offend or demand, the way she sees families dance around the emotions of recovering cancer victims—reluctant to place any burden on them, but ready to read meaning into all their actions. She sees it at the hospital and feels it at home—she recognizes now the necessity of burdens. They are what keep you living. She would like to tell One-Two, Lincoln, even Simon, that they should not only depend on her a little more, they should make demands of her. But not too much. Not so much.

Betty knows they won’t, and it takes all the fun out of buying their presents. She is certain One-Two will be happy with his cowboy boots and Lincoln with the new winter parka and red-swoosh Nikes he’s been hinting at for months. She is confident they will like these gifts, and she is equally sure they will read the high Mexican heel and smooth nylon for her pleasure or anger.