A successful businessman, Arty Mateo stood up to receive another humanitarian award. For a man of thirty-seven, he had done a great deal to assist people who were in need of help. It seemed hard to believe that at one time he was a very troubled youth with a big chip on his shoulder. Then twenty years ago something unusual occurred to change his behavior.

***
It had begun snowing that late afternoon of December twenty-fourth, nineteen eighty-eight. The snow would eventually mask the ugliness of the old and worn tenement houses in the Sunset Park section of Brooklyn.
Seventeen-year-old Arty lived with his sister, Theresa, and her family on the first floor of one of these houses. Bored, he sat watching TV, the only one home. There was a knock at the door. It was his best friend, Willy, wondering if Arty wanted some action.
“What kind?” Arty asked, perking up.
“The guys and I have figured out how to get some quick dough,” Willy replied with confidence. “All we have to do is frighten the old man from the corner grocery into giving us some dough. He’s got no alarm, and after roughing him up a bit, I’m sure he’ll cooperate with us. We plan to do the heist around ten, just about the time he closes. So how about it, do you want to be in on it?”
Arty nodded. They made arrangements to meet at nine-forty-five at the store, then Willy left.

Fifteen minutes later, Theresa, his sister, a pretty brunette of twenty-two, returned home. She was disappointed because Arty had promised to go out and buy some more decorations for the Christmas tree. She expressed her disappointment to him, but Arty just shrugged.
His sister sighed. “The older you get, the less I seem to be able to communicate with you. Ever since mom died, you’ve become so bitter.”
Arty plopped himself on the couch and waved her off. “Ah, give me a break. Why are you always on my case?”
Sammy, Theresa’s husband, came home from work.
“Tell your wife to stop giving me a hard time,” Arty told him as soon as he walked in.
Sammy lashed back at him. “She’s giving you a hard time? You’re acting just like your low life friends. They’re all a wasted bunch of drop outs. I guess the old saying that says birds of a feather flock together is true. Why don’t you copy us instead? We work hard and try to improve our life, not consider everything a joke.”
Arty snickered. “Yeah, well, life is a joke, one big welfare line. Don’t give me one of your lectures; it sucks.”
Theresa motioned for her husband to stop talking. “There’s no use in arguing with him. It’s a lost cause. We’d better go and get some more of the Christmas decorations before the stores close. At least we don’t have to worry where to leave our kid. Luckily, he’s staying at your folks’ house for the evening.”
They were about to leave when Arty decided to get the last word in, his bitterness spilling over. “Right on! Go get those stupid decorations for Christmas. After all, it’s a time to celebrate. And just what have I got to celebrate about? A father who ran off with a slut to California, and a mother who got sick and died two years ago. That’s a lot to be thankful for. Praise the Lord.”
“Look, Arty,” Sammy compassionately said, “I know how much you’re hurting. You’ve learned at an early age that life can be rough.”
Sammy’s remark somehow fueled Arty’s anger. “Yeah, it’s sure rough living with an ass like you.”
Sammy quickly walked to the door. “Let’s go, Theresa, before I lose control.”
“Try touchin’ me and I’ll wipe the floor with your ugly face,” Arty warned.
Sammy moved toward Arty, but Theresa grabbed her husband and left. Her nephew returned to watching TV, blocking out everything that had just happened. Suddenly, the television blacked out. Arty banged on it.
“More bad luck,” he shouted.
Arty felt someone behind him. Turning, he saw a teenager, about his age, looking at him with a sad expression.
“Hello Arty.”
“How did you get in here?” Arty asked. “Man, in this house even the door locks are broken. Look, I don’t give handouts, so beat it.”
The figure suddenly was surrounded by a golden aura. “Don’t you recognize me, Arty?”
Arty became frightened. “You look like Carl, but he... ”
“ ...overdosed on drugs and died. That’s right, Arty. I got hooked on the stuff and ended up six feet under.”
Arty tried to keep his voice steady. “What do you want from me?”
“I’ve been given a short time to try and convince you to change your behavior before ending up like me.”
“I won’t be that stupid, “ Arty replied.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Carl quipped.
Instantly the two were standing in the back yard of Arty’s high school on a raw early November morning. Most of the students had already gone into the school building. A younger Arty was standing alone in on the side of the building.
Arty was stunned. “How did we get here, and who’s that guy standing over there? He sort of looks like me.”
“He is you,” Carl responded. “We ‘ve gone back two years ago, to the time when you first met Willy and his buddies.” Watch!
Willy, moved over with John and Nick to Arty, openly puffing a blunt. “Hey, you new in the neighborhood?”
Arty nodded. “Yeah. I just moved in with my sister.” He looked at his watch. “Look, guys, can we talk later? I’ve got to go in or I’ll be marked late.”
Nick blocked him. “So? Big deal! What’s your name?”
“Arty.”
John slapped him on the back. “Well, Arty, you don’t want to get a reputation as a nerd, do you?”
Arty frowned, “No way.”
“Then stick with us, kid,” Willy advised him. “Come on, let’s get out of here and go hang out in the park.” The four of them then left the school yard.
“And they certainly did show you, Arty, ”Carl said, shaking his head. “All the wrong things to do, all the wrong people to associate with. There was one person that was an exception, your neighbor, Mary. ”
Arty put his head down. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
“Why, because she dropped you as her boyfriend?”
Now they were standing in the high school hall. Arty was closing his locker as Mary came over to him.
“Arty, We’ve got to talk. You’ve changed. When you first moved here you were a sweet guy with lots of potential. Now Willy and his pals have made you a carbon copy of themselves. You only come to school to have fun by disrupting your classes and causing trouble. It’s got to stop, or we are through.”
“Oh, really?” Arty answered coldly, “ I don’t like control freaks, so I guess it’s adios.”
Holding back her tears, Mary walked away from him.
Carl looked at Arty with disdain. “You should have listened to Mary. See yourself a short time later, a guy with no soul.”
The scene shifted to the avenue. Arty was standing outside a candy store finishing a can of beer. He whistled to Rosa, a pretty teenager, as she passed him. She stopped, surprised to see him.
“I didn’t expect you’d be hanging around the candy store in such a cheerful mood today,” she remarked.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re hot?” he said, trying to change the subject as he put his hand around her shoulder.
She quickly pushed him away. “I heard that your little nephew, Lenny, got burnt in your house yesterday.”
“Nobody was supposed to know. What big mouth told you about it?”
Rose looked upset. “But, Arty, I was only going to tell you how sorry I was!”
Arty shrugged. “I don’t want any sympathy. I‘ll bet everyone thinks I caused the accident. Well, it was my sister’s fault. I told her I’d only watch the brat for ten minutes, and I stick to what I say! So, when she didn’t come back on time, I left.”
Rosa looked at him with disbelief. “Are you serious? But Arty, Lenny is not even three years old yet!”
Arty scowled. “Ah, come on, let’s forget about Lenny. How about us getting it on tonight? I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
Rose backed away. “Right now you should be worrying about Len, not coming onto me.”
Arty gave her a rude gesture. “You’re just another bossy dame. Go get lost.”
“Oh, I’m leaving,” Rose retorted as she crossed the street. “I don’t want to hang around anyone so cruel as you.”
“Damn!” mumbled to himself as he checked his wallet near the Fortway theatre. “No dough and I wanted to see a movie today.”
An idea came to him when he saw Barney, a young boy that lived in the apartment next to him, going into the nearby supermarket. He called him over in a menacing ton
“How much dough do you have, Barney?”
“Just enough to get some groceries with,” the youngster nervously answered.
“Hand it over.”
Barney tried to get away, but Arty grabbed him.
“Please, Arty, don’t take my money,” the boy pleaded. “It’s for food. Every bit counts.”
“That’s not my problem. Hand it over before I knock out your teeth.”
Barney reluctantly gave him the money then was roughly released by Arty.
“Better shut up about this or you’ll be sorry, chump.”
Counting the money, Arty bought a ticket at the Fortway.
Carl frowned. “What a bully you were to pick on the kid. Let’s go. We have more to see.”
Arty recoiled. “It’s enough. I get the point.”
“No, you haven’t,” Carl replied, his face full of anger. “See what happens this coming March.”
They were now in a fast food restaurant. Willy was sitting with Miriam, a heavily made-up brash teenager. He whispered something to her, got up and left. Miriam moved over to Arty who was sitting near the counter. There was nothing subtle about her actions.
“Hi, Arty. I’ve been noticing you in school and was hoping we could get together,” she suggestively said.
Arty was flattered. “Have you? But you got your choice of guys.”
Miriam convincingly gave him a kiss. “Ah, they don’t mean anything to me. They’re not as fine as you. Come on, walk me to my house. I got some good stuff stashed there. Want to try a Black Beauty? They get you high fast.”
“Yeah, sure,” Arty said, trying to act cool.
The scene shifted to the front of the school entrance.
Arty began to tremble again, anticipating a bad outcome. “Please, Carl, no more!”
Carl ignored his plea. “Do you know those two girls coming out from the school?”
“Yes, that’s Andrea and Marsha. They were in one of my classes.”
“ Let’s follow them and listen to their conversation as the walk home.”
Andrea sighed. “The cops found Arty unconscious near the railroad tracks. They say he overdosed on some powerful drug. He never came out of it and died before the ambulance arrived.”
Arty gasped in horror.
Marsha shrugged. “Most of us knew Arty would end up that way after he hooked up with Miriam. Today, I saw her holding hands with Willy. I think they set him up, but that won’t make any difference to Arty now. Let’s change the subject, talking about him is getting me depressed.” The girls turned the corner and were gone.
A cold mist surrounded Arty, and next thing he knew, was standing on a lonely hill surrounded by tombstones. Carl pointed to a small neglected grave. “Look,” he commanded.

Arty tried to back away, but Carl threw him down next to it . Arty saw his name etched in the granite. He began to sob. “I don’t want to end up that way. I know I can make a clean start and change my future. Take me back, Carl. I know I can make a clean start. I’m not the kid I use to be, please!”
There was a twinkle in Carl’s eyes, then he vanished.
For a moment, Arty was enveloped in complete darkness, then he heard someone knocking on a door. Opening his eyes, he realized that he had fallen asleep on the couch. Had he been dreaming? He wasn’t too sure, for it seemed too real!
Willy stood in the hallway, looking at him angrily. “What’s up? We’ve been waiting for you. Are you ready?”
Arty shook his head. “I’ve changed my mind. In fact, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to hang around with you guys anymore.” He abruptly turned and was ready to go back into his apartment.
Willy was furious. “No one disrespects me or my crew and gets away with it. I’m going to give you a beat down that you’ll never forget.”
He swung, but Arty was too fast for him and knocked him down. As Willy rose, Arty grabbed him and pushed him out into the street with a final warning. “ The next time you see me, keep walking.”
Returning to his apartment, he met Mary at the stairs. She gave him a big smiled, for she had seen the whole incident. Arty’s heart beat faster. He knew he had to get back with her.
“Mary, do you think you could give me another chance. I know how much I hurt you, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
Mary looked at him for a moment, then smiled. Slowly, they moved to each other and kissed.
Theresa and Sammy walked into the building, carrying a bag full of decorations.
“I’d like to help you put up those decorations,” Arty told them. “I know I’ve been an awful dope. Please forgive me. I’ll make it up to all of you.”
Within a short time, Arty proved what he said was more than just idle words.
Sammy was flabbergasted. “What made Arty change?” he asked his wife.
Theresa smiled. “Maybe it’s a miracle. After all, isn’t that appropriate for the holiday season?”
***
Arty stuck to his newly found convictions, turning out to be an outstanding adult who was always kind and considerate to others. He never forgot the spirit of Carl. Every Christmas eve, he would look up at the night sky and thank him for saving his soul and getting the chance to redeem himself.

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