Today I’m sharing an extract from December 5C4, courtesy of the author and Kristen Ludwigsen from Mindbuck Media
“An intense novella of ideas that looks into the heart of faith and generosity.” — Kirkus Reviews
“Thought-provoking and magical. Full of humor, pain, and insight.” —Felicity Niven, author of Convergence of Desire.
Firstly the book info…
December on 5C4 is a vibrant tale of magical realism set during the Christmas season, weaving together threads of Jewish folklore, New Testament narratives, and Santa Claus legends. This story unfolds in the unique environment of an urban psychiatric hospital, where the boundaries between reality and the supernatural blur. As the winter holidays progress, Josh and Nick—two very different patients, one with similarities to Jesus and the other Santa—find themselves on an unexpected journey of self-discovery and transformation. Their evolving friendship and shared experiences challenge them to reconcile their pasts, embrace their identities, and navigate the complexities of mental illness.
December on 5C4 is a compelling exploration of belief, identity, and the magic that can emerge in the most unexpected of friendships.
HE HEARD THE FAT MAN long before he saw him. Josh left his room and shuffled down the hallway towards the canteen. After so many hospitalizations on 5C4, he was familiar with both the floor plan and the meal plan.
“Ho, ho, ho!” The deep laughter clearly arose from the depths of a large man’s belly, surfacing in long well-spaced sputters.
“Ha, ha, ha!”
Josh continued toward the canteen. The main hallway had twelve dorm rooms, mostly doubles with two singles, and ended in a large common room where six round tables were placed during meals. The canteen itself was not a separate space, but rather just a converted wall to one side of the common room— a long bar crossed the middle of that wall, with a food service window above. It was opened during mealtimes but otherwise kept closed by a metal security shutter that rolled down and locked. A bench nearby held coffee, tea, hot chocolate, lemonade, and packaged snacks.
Josh heard a deep voice, one which matched that deep laugh. “What do you call a selfish elf?” No one offered a guess. “Nobody. Really. Myyss-elf!” Then, another round of deep laughter.
“Ho, ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha!”
Josh surprised himself with a small smile. He had not smiled in weeks. That was pretty silly… and that laugh… how could anyone have so much energy this early in the morning? And how could anyone be so jolly here on 5C4?
There was no line for breakfast as Josh was last to arrive. He walked toward the canteen and took his meal tray from the orderly. He turned to the tables; only one open chair remained at the far table next to the tall, fat man who was sitting with no meal tray. Josh shuffled over and sat down across from him.
“It’s okay little buddy, you go ahead and eat. My breakfast is comin’” The man shifted his torso side to side, lifted his knees up and down, and tapped his feet and fingers, all to a beat only he seemed to feel.
Josh’s plate held a mix of toasted bread, blueberry muffins, powdered eggs, fried tomatoes, canned fruit, and an orange drink. It would be the first real meal he had eaten in weeks. Also, the most varied, as what he found on the streets somehow was always just leftover bread, fish, or wine. Josh lowered his head and folded his hands, then mumbled several brachot rishonot—blessings before eating—for the various foods on his tray. He grabbed his fork and prepared to eat his meal.
“You mumble a lot, huh. You’re one of the quiet ones. I’m one of the loud ones.” The man cupped his hands over his ears and exaggerated a silly squint. “Hey, do you know where they put the loudest elf?”
Josh shrugged his shoulders. “On the shhhh-elf!” The fat man slapped his hands onto the table, rattling Josh’s meal tray. “Ho, ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha!”
The man spoke with an accent. It was slight, hard to place, a bit Eastern European, perhaps Slavic, somewhat akin to Josh’s father’s lilt. The man also resembled his father physically. Except for the height, at six feet or more, this man was much taller, but he was equally as fat, with a large belly and a pear-shaped midriff. Somehow, he wore deep red pajamas, though the standard issue for 5C4 was white. He was fair skinned with a broad face.He seemed late middle-aged from the crow’s feet wrinkles to the sides of his twinkling eyes. A pair of round spectacles balanced atop his button cherry-like nose. He had dimples, a small mouth, and rosy cheeks, with a long, well-groomed white beard. His head was otherwise bald, again like Josh’s father, however, with no kippah atop and no payot wrapped around his ears. There were also no thin talit katan tassels dangling beneath this man’s pajama shirt. The man pointed to the name tag on his shirt.“My name tag says T opher K., but everyone calls me Nick. It’s my nickname. Get it? Nick-name!” He slapped the table again. His heavy silver wedding ring rang the tabletop like a bell. Josh’s drink nearly spilled. “Sir, could you please—” He began but was interrupted by that enormous laugh. “Ho, ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha!” 
Adam Strassberg is a retired psychiatrist living in Portland, Oregon. His stories have been published in Fiction on the Web, Cafe Lit, Total Quality Reading, Please See Me, among others. His novella, December on 5C4, was published on December 1st, 2024.
