ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Yes, it really is too bad for Geoff, and you have to wonder, is Geoff a sucky priest or are the people of Saint Adjeanet's just reacting to someone new. OR is Patti right, and none of it really matters?
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Works and Days
- Thread starter ChrisGibson
- Start date
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
P.S. LIZ'S NAME IS NOW ANN !!!!! IT'S JUST ON OF THOSE THINGS THAT HAPPENS IN PROOFREADING.
“Breakfast was excellent!” Bobby said, coming back into the kitchen and rinsing off his dish. He made for the dishwasher. Ann touched his hand.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ve got it.”
“Thank you, Ann!” Bobby smiled at her.
Only Wednesday and it was already exhausting. As the new priest left the kitchen, Ann reflected that everything he said ended in an exclamation point. Ann looked outside. How could he be so cheerful in a world grey as this? The sky was white and grey, the asphalt of the church parking lot-turned-school playground was grey beyond the grey and white early winter garden. Then Ann looked around the kitchen even this seemed grey.
She found herself in the church with Hannah on one of the days when the two women sang and play piano to teach or the students at Saint Adjeanet’s the new hymns they’d all be singing at Mass on Friday. Today they were rehearsing the songs for Christmas, though. All the blue trousers, all the white shirts, all the navy ties. All the plaid skirts, all the green sweaters, all the navy cardigans sitting there singing. The sixth grade. Or was this the seventh?
Hannah’s playing was dull, far away, the kids’ mouths moved in slow motion.
“Sleep in heavenly peace.... Sleep in heavenly.... Sleep.”
The children blurred. Ann saw the rosette window over the choir loft, and then the brass lanterns, and then she heard a thud which was vaguely irritating. Then there was nothing.
And this relieved her.
Ann Ford blinked and blinked in the sunlight, and then there was Hannah Decker’s face before her, eyes smiling in commiseration through her glasses. Hannah reached up to shut the blinds. Ann looked around. They were in one of the two little sick rooms the nurse kept. Ann remembered this place. From childhood. When she was a little girl, hating school, she’d play sick and spend as much time here as possible. The window overlooked More Street. She felt so safe then. And a little naughty. She felt a little naughty being here now, as if she’d taken the easy way out. Blinking, and looking out the window, ignoring Hannah a little, she saw the houses on the other side of More Street. Could she have imagined as a school girl here that in life she would go many places only to end up living next door to the school?
“You fainted, Ann,” Hannah said softly. “You haven’t been yourself. Have you been feeling okay?”
“What do you think of me, Hannah?”
“Ah?”
“Do you think I’m pathetic?”
“Ann, who told you that?”
“No one had to tell anything. I don’t wonder if people say it behind my back. I bet they do. No one really likes Geoff either, do they? I can’t imagine them being in love with his sister. His weird sister who’s over thirty and lives in the rectory like a maid—”
“Ann!” Hannah’s voice was both stern and gentle. Ann had never heard it that way before.
“That’s what people think, right? What the parish thinks?”
“The parish?” Hannah laughs. “The town? What? Who gives a damn what they think? Why should it matter?”
“It does matter,” Ann told Hannah, “if the parish are the only people you have. I see that new Bobby. He’s not Geoff. He’s not the brother that needs to be cared for. He’s just the new priest. And I’m the maid. And that’s not right. I didn’t live my life to end up being a maid to a priest. But... but maybe I did. No... no... It hasn’t always been like this...”
It hadn’t always been like this.
There had been a day in this very sick room lit with that ugly fluorescent tube when she made a vow she’d never be teased, she’d never be disrespected again. She’d go far. She would show so many people so many things. Danny Cook, JoAnn Risedale, Suzie Nickener. The odd thing is the names of the other people, the ones who had not made her feel small, she could no longer remember. She remembered these people not worth remembering. And despite the fact that she had it on good authority that none of them had ever done anything great in life, that they, in fact, still lived in Lothrop County if not this very small city, she had never seen them again. They had faded with childhood, The boys before high school, the girls in high school though they had all gone to the same one.
The year she’d made this vow, after having been called a cross-eyed freak (why did she remember the bad things so well?) was the year after Geoff had graduated and Mom and Dad had sent him, not to Our Lady of Mercy, but to Saint Jerome, the good school in Saint Gregory. There had been no brother to protect her anymore. Their older brother Anthony, had left Saint Adjeanet’s long before that, first in his class and all. Tony would be Valedictorian of Saint Jerome’s that year everyone was certain.
Aside from making that vow, life did not change in sixth, seventh or eighth grade. It did not change when her parents sent her to Rosary for high school. Rosary had been especially dreadful. She was a poor fit there, and it was far from the best school in town. Her parents never thought she should have the best girl’s school. It wasn’t necessary. She applied to Saint Mary’s down in South Bend for college. Her parents said she couldn’t get in. She crossed her fingers and lit candles anyway. Saint Mary’s agreed with her parents, but they made her what was called a Link, going to Holy Cross, living at Saint Mary’s provisionally until her grades were up and she could be formally accepted to the school of her choice. She lived like this for a year, and went to Holy Cross right as her brother was transferring to Notre Dame.
There was a solidarity she felt with Geoff and not with Tony. Geoff, like herself, had something to prove. The much older and by far more attractive Tony—who never went to Holy Cross Junior College, but had done four shining years at Notre Dame and was on his way to Catholic University of America—had nothing to prove to anyone.
So she had tried for her two years at Holy Cross to finally be acceptable to Saint Mary’s. She had dated then. That was something most people would scarcely believe. She had heard people, on occasion, whisper about if she or if she hadn’t ever had anybody. She’d had Ralph senior year and had—in college—written a letter to say she didn’t want him anymore. He had driven down to South Bend to declare his love for her, and then weep knowing he couldn’t have her. And then there had been Andy Redman who was very tall, and not a little fat. She had lost her virginity to him. She was not sure if he was bad or if sex was bad. It was the only sex she’d ever had.
She’d broken up with Andy too and gone to Marietta, sure that now, still in the Midwest, but not at all in Michigan, she would do well. Only Ann had no idea what it was that she would do well. So when school was over she found herself back in Geschichte Falls for the year, working as a secretary then at a construction company then at this or that before nursing school looked good, looked okay. It seemed natural. Whenever Geoff came home from seminary he so needed to be taken care of. Tony almost never came home, and he made little comments about how nice it must be for Ann not to have to worry about ever leaving home. She did leave home, she said. Now she lived in Grand Rapids, in a little apartment not far from the nursing school. Somehow she was sure this was not what her brother meant and it was around this time that she realized she didn’t have any dreams. She checked around. Neither did anyone else, which made her feel better, and so she moved on.
About the time Ann was seeing a timid musician, Dad died. It was not a gradual sickness, he just dropped dead without warning. Tony was in North Carolina now, and he flew in and Geoff came up from Colorado where the Order of the Holy Cross had sent him now that he was ordained. Ann was not prepared for the fact that looking into the coffin at Princes of Geschichte Falls mortuary, she was not sorrowful. All the pictures of her and her parents showed her as doted upon. The pictures of her with Daddy showed her as Daddy’s little girl. But Daddy had never counted on the fact that little girls must, in time, grow up into women. As a result, here the girl was, nearly thirty years old and quite dried up, looking close to forty, feeling fourteen.
No one now ever talked of Father Ransom, but he had been the pastor before Geoff. He had two associate pastors, both older than God, that the diocese had no plans of replacing. When Ransom died, Geoff was made the new pastor, and Ann was happier than she ought to have been. Her companion and her protection had returned.
It was especially good because in the early days when Geoff returned and Ann had moved back into the house with her mother, she would often flee to the rectory for a bit of an escape. The place looked out of date. They couldn’t get new furniture, but Ann could help to take the old man smell out of the place, and she spent many weeks with Geoff making the place look a little bit better.
Finally, one week before her thirtieth birthday, Geoff had said, “why don’t you just stay here a while, that way you don’t have to bother with Mom.”
“Mom needs me.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Geoff said.”And I don’t think you need her.”
And if the latter could not be verified, the former could, for only a few weeks later Ann Ford was not in need of anyone as she died watching Oprah. Again, going through the house, cleaning out things, Ann was startled to discover, sitting on her parents’ bed, that she did not miss her mother either.
And the next morning she had gotten up a half hour before Geoff to prepare the coffee for him, and so things had been. They did not change, not really, until today. On this bed in the nurse’s office.
“Ann?” Hannah whispered. “Ann Ford, honey you’ve been staring off into nothing for the last few minutes. Now what’s wrong? Of course it wasn’t always like this. What’s going on?”
“I’m a mess. I don’t... I don’t know what to do,” Ann said. “I can’t... I don’t think I can keep doing what I’m doing.”
“What are you doing?”
“That’s just it!” she came to life. “I can’t go forward and there’s certainly no going back. I am so stuck right now. I feel like I’m dead. I want to... I think I want to leave.”
“Life?” Hannah tried, warily.
“Sometimes,” Ann confessed. “But that’s not what I meant. I meant... Home, only I don’t know... where to go.”
Hannah was quiet a while. She dropped her eyes and sucked in her breath before speaking.
“Ann?”
Ann looked at her, dully.
“The other day me and Will were talking about you. He said, ‘She sure is a nice girl. I wish we could help her.’ Ann, if you want someplace to come 8411 Shuster Street is always open to you for as long as you need.”
Ann looked at Hannah in amazement, not knowing what to say.
That whole night Ann seemed, to her brother, to be in a trance, albeit a happy one. The food was actually good, and Bobby commented on this.
“We’re having the first meeting of the basketball team tonight,” Bobby was saying.
“Already?” said Geoff, reaching for a roll.
“Yeah, we couldn’t call it practice because we don’t really have a team to play against. I was thinking about dividing the boys we have into two teams. And then I thought maybe next week I’d go talk to the priests over at Evervirgin—”
“Evervirgin!” interjected Geoff.
Ann just sat down and drank her water.
Thursday morning, Geoff woke up to the sun in his eyes. Which never happened. He had hit snooze on his alarm, thinking it was wrong because he couldn’t smell Ann’s coffee. But when he came downstairs in the early morning, there was still no Ann. What was more, he realized that he’d missed eight o’clock Mass. Walking into the kitchen Geoff found, in her big, sloppy handwriting a note.
BIG BROTHER,
I HAD TO LEAVE. I REALIZED IT LAST NIGHT WHEN I WAS TRYING TO SLEEP. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE ALONE NOW THAT BOBBY’S HERE. I’M LIVING ON SHUSTER STREET.
LOVE,
LIZ
P.S.
XOXOXOXO!!!
MORE TOMORROW IN OUR BONUS WEEKEND EDITION
“Breakfast was excellent!” Bobby said, coming back into the kitchen and rinsing off his dish. He made for the dishwasher. Ann touched his hand.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ve got it.”
“Thank you, Ann!” Bobby smiled at her.
Only Wednesday and it was already exhausting. As the new priest left the kitchen, Ann reflected that everything he said ended in an exclamation point. Ann looked outside. How could he be so cheerful in a world grey as this? The sky was white and grey, the asphalt of the church parking lot-turned-school playground was grey beyond the grey and white early winter garden. Then Ann looked around the kitchen even this seemed grey.
She found herself in the church with Hannah on one of the days when the two women sang and play piano to teach or the students at Saint Adjeanet’s the new hymns they’d all be singing at Mass on Friday. Today they were rehearsing the songs for Christmas, though. All the blue trousers, all the white shirts, all the navy ties. All the plaid skirts, all the green sweaters, all the navy cardigans sitting there singing. The sixth grade. Or was this the seventh?
Hannah’s playing was dull, far away, the kids’ mouths moved in slow motion.
“Sleep in heavenly peace.... Sleep in heavenly.... Sleep.”
The children blurred. Ann saw the rosette window over the choir loft, and then the brass lanterns, and then she heard a thud which was vaguely irritating. Then there was nothing.
And this relieved her.
Ann Ford blinked and blinked in the sunlight, and then there was Hannah Decker’s face before her, eyes smiling in commiseration through her glasses. Hannah reached up to shut the blinds. Ann looked around. They were in one of the two little sick rooms the nurse kept. Ann remembered this place. From childhood. When she was a little girl, hating school, she’d play sick and spend as much time here as possible. The window overlooked More Street. She felt so safe then. And a little naughty. She felt a little naughty being here now, as if she’d taken the easy way out. Blinking, and looking out the window, ignoring Hannah a little, she saw the houses on the other side of More Street. Could she have imagined as a school girl here that in life she would go many places only to end up living next door to the school?
“You fainted, Ann,” Hannah said softly. “You haven’t been yourself. Have you been feeling okay?”
“What do you think of me, Hannah?”
“Ah?”
“Do you think I’m pathetic?”
“Ann, who told you that?”
“No one had to tell anything. I don’t wonder if people say it behind my back. I bet they do. No one really likes Geoff either, do they? I can’t imagine them being in love with his sister. His weird sister who’s over thirty and lives in the rectory like a maid—”
“Ann!” Hannah’s voice was both stern and gentle. Ann had never heard it that way before.
“That’s what people think, right? What the parish thinks?”
“The parish?” Hannah laughs. “The town? What? Who gives a damn what they think? Why should it matter?”
“It does matter,” Ann told Hannah, “if the parish are the only people you have. I see that new Bobby. He’s not Geoff. He’s not the brother that needs to be cared for. He’s just the new priest. And I’m the maid. And that’s not right. I didn’t live my life to end up being a maid to a priest. But... but maybe I did. No... no... It hasn’t always been like this...”
It hadn’t always been like this.
There had been a day in this very sick room lit with that ugly fluorescent tube when she made a vow she’d never be teased, she’d never be disrespected again. She’d go far. She would show so many people so many things. Danny Cook, JoAnn Risedale, Suzie Nickener. The odd thing is the names of the other people, the ones who had not made her feel small, she could no longer remember. She remembered these people not worth remembering. And despite the fact that she had it on good authority that none of them had ever done anything great in life, that they, in fact, still lived in Lothrop County if not this very small city, she had never seen them again. They had faded with childhood, The boys before high school, the girls in high school though they had all gone to the same one.
The year she’d made this vow, after having been called a cross-eyed freak (why did she remember the bad things so well?) was the year after Geoff had graduated and Mom and Dad had sent him, not to Our Lady of Mercy, but to Saint Jerome, the good school in Saint Gregory. There had been no brother to protect her anymore. Their older brother Anthony, had left Saint Adjeanet’s long before that, first in his class and all. Tony would be Valedictorian of Saint Jerome’s that year everyone was certain.
Aside from making that vow, life did not change in sixth, seventh or eighth grade. It did not change when her parents sent her to Rosary for high school. Rosary had been especially dreadful. She was a poor fit there, and it was far from the best school in town. Her parents never thought she should have the best girl’s school. It wasn’t necessary. She applied to Saint Mary’s down in South Bend for college. Her parents said she couldn’t get in. She crossed her fingers and lit candles anyway. Saint Mary’s agreed with her parents, but they made her what was called a Link, going to Holy Cross, living at Saint Mary’s provisionally until her grades were up and she could be formally accepted to the school of her choice. She lived like this for a year, and went to Holy Cross right as her brother was transferring to Notre Dame.
There was a solidarity she felt with Geoff and not with Tony. Geoff, like herself, had something to prove. The much older and by far more attractive Tony—who never went to Holy Cross Junior College, but had done four shining years at Notre Dame and was on his way to Catholic University of America—had nothing to prove to anyone.
So she had tried for her two years at Holy Cross to finally be acceptable to Saint Mary’s. She had dated then. That was something most people would scarcely believe. She had heard people, on occasion, whisper about if she or if she hadn’t ever had anybody. She’d had Ralph senior year and had—in college—written a letter to say she didn’t want him anymore. He had driven down to South Bend to declare his love for her, and then weep knowing he couldn’t have her. And then there had been Andy Redman who was very tall, and not a little fat. She had lost her virginity to him. She was not sure if he was bad or if sex was bad. It was the only sex she’d ever had.
She’d broken up with Andy too and gone to Marietta, sure that now, still in the Midwest, but not at all in Michigan, she would do well. Only Ann had no idea what it was that she would do well. So when school was over she found herself back in Geschichte Falls for the year, working as a secretary then at a construction company then at this or that before nursing school looked good, looked okay. It seemed natural. Whenever Geoff came home from seminary he so needed to be taken care of. Tony almost never came home, and he made little comments about how nice it must be for Ann not to have to worry about ever leaving home. She did leave home, she said. Now she lived in Grand Rapids, in a little apartment not far from the nursing school. Somehow she was sure this was not what her brother meant and it was around this time that she realized she didn’t have any dreams. She checked around. Neither did anyone else, which made her feel better, and so she moved on.
About the time Ann was seeing a timid musician, Dad died. It was not a gradual sickness, he just dropped dead without warning. Tony was in North Carolina now, and he flew in and Geoff came up from Colorado where the Order of the Holy Cross had sent him now that he was ordained. Ann was not prepared for the fact that looking into the coffin at Princes of Geschichte Falls mortuary, she was not sorrowful. All the pictures of her and her parents showed her as doted upon. The pictures of her with Daddy showed her as Daddy’s little girl. But Daddy had never counted on the fact that little girls must, in time, grow up into women. As a result, here the girl was, nearly thirty years old and quite dried up, looking close to forty, feeling fourteen.
No one now ever talked of Father Ransom, but he had been the pastor before Geoff. He had two associate pastors, both older than God, that the diocese had no plans of replacing. When Ransom died, Geoff was made the new pastor, and Ann was happier than she ought to have been. Her companion and her protection had returned.
It was especially good because in the early days when Geoff returned and Ann had moved back into the house with her mother, she would often flee to the rectory for a bit of an escape. The place looked out of date. They couldn’t get new furniture, but Ann could help to take the old man smell out of the place, and she spent many weeks with Geoff making the place look a little bit better.
Finally, one week before her thirtieth birthday, Geoff had said, “why don’t you just stay here a while, that way you don’t have to bother with Mom.”
“Mom needs me.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Geoff said.”And I don’t think you need her.”
And if the latter could not be verified, the former could, for only a few weeks later Ann Ford was not in need of anyone as she died watching Oprah. Again, going through the house, cleaning out things, Ann was startled to discover, sitting on her parents’ bed, that she did not miss her mother either.
And the next morning she had gotten up a half hour before Geoff to prepare the coffee for him, and so things had been. They did not change, not really, until today. On this bed in the nurse’s office.
“Ann?” Hannah whispered. “Ann Ford, honey you’ve been staring off into nothing for the last few minutes. Now what’s wrong? Of course it wasn’t always like this. What’s going on?”
“I’m a mess. I don’t... I don’t know what to do,” Ann said. “I can’t... I don’t think I can keep doing what I’m doing.”
“What are you doing?”
“That’s just it!” she came to life. “I can’t go forward and there’s certainly no going back. I am so stuck right now. I feel like I’m dead. I want to... I think I want to leave.”
“Life?” Hannah tried, warily.
“Sometimes,” Ann confessed. “But that’s not what I meant. I meant... Home, only I don’t know... where to go.”
Hannah was quiet a while. She dropped her eyes and sucked in her breath before speaking.
“Ann?”
Ann looked at her, dully.
“The other day me and Will were talking about you. He said, ‘She sure is a nice girl. I wish we could help her.’ Ann, if you want someplace to come 8411 Shuster Street is always open to you for as long as you need.”
Ann looked at Hannah in amazement, not knowing what to say.
That whole night Ann seemed, to her brother, to be in a trance, albeit a happy one. The food was actually good, and Bobby commented on this.
“We’re having the first meeting of the basketball team tonight,” Bobby was saying.
“Already?” said Geoff, reaching for a roll.
“Yeah, we couldn’t call it practice because we don’t really have a team to play against. I was thinking about dividing the boys we have into two teams. And then I thought maybe next week I’d go talk to the priests over at Evervirgin—”
“Evervirgin!” interjected Geoff.
Ann just sat down and drank her water.
Thursday morning, Geoff woke up to the sun in his eyes. Which never happened. He had hit snooze on his alarm, thinking it was wrong because he couldn’t smell Ann’s coffee. But when he came downstairs in the early morning, there was still no Ann. What was more, he realized that he’d missed eight o’clock Mass. Walking into the kitchen Geoff found, in her big, sloppy handwriting a note.
BIG BROTHER,
I HAD TO LEAVE. I REALIZED IT LAST NIGHT WHEN I WAS TRYING TO SLEEP. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE ALONE NOW THAT BOBBY’S HERE. I’M LIVING ON SHUSTER STREET.
LOVE,
LIZ
P.S.
XOXOXOXO!!!
MORE TOMORROW IN OUR BONUS WEEKEND EDITION
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
It sounds like Ann has been feeling lost with regards to her life. I am glad she is moving out of the rectory. She clearly wasn’t happy there anymore. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
No, Poor Ann wasn't happy and perhaps she stopped being happy a long time ago, but Father Bobby coming was what she needed to leave. At least she had found friends she didnt know she had and can begin a new sort of life.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
THE SECOND COMING OF ANN FORD
CONCLUSION
Thursday morning, Geoff woke up to the sun in his eyes. Which never happened. He had hit snooze on his alarm, thinking it was wrong because he couldn’t smell Ann’s coffee. But when he came downstairs in the early morning, there was still no Ann. What was more, he realized that he’d missed eight o’clock Mass. Walking into the kitchen Geoff found, in her big, sloppy handwriting a note.
BIG BROTHER,
I HAD TO LEAVE. I REALIZED IT LAST NIGHT WHEN I WAS TRYING TO SLEEP. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE ALONE NOW THAT BOBBY’S HERE. I’M LIVING ON SHUSTER STREET.
LOVE,
ANNIE
P.S.
XOXOXOXO!!!
Geoffrey Ford was so mad he could have hit something. The door opened and in came Bobby.
“You finally woke up, are you feeling alright?” asked the priest.
“I covered the eight o’clock for you. Anytime you need me to, let me know, alright?”
“Ann is gone,” Geoff said breathlessly. “She decided to move away. She’s gone.”
Robert Heinz seemed to be considering this for the moment, then he said, “It’s probably best. She didn’t belong in a rectory anyway.”
Before Geoff could recover from that there was a ring at the door, and he went to answer it.
“Chayne!”
“Good morning, Geoffrey,” Chayne Kandzierski was leaning against the door. “May I come in?”
“Come on in,” Geoff gestured to the living room, genuinely glad to see Chayne. “You’re hanging out in the rectory a lot this year.”
“Yeah,” Chayne didn’t look pleased by this.
“Can I get you something?” Geoff asked.
“No, your sister said you might want to talk is all.”
“Chayne?”
Chayne looked at the other man in black.
“You have to be Chayne Kandzierski,” Bobby offered his hand.
Chayne, reluctantly, offered his hand, and Bobby shook it briskly.
“Father Robert Heinz,” he identified himself. “You can call me Father Bobby,”
“Do I have to?”
“As you wish. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Chayne. I’ve gotta be off now.” Robert Heinz clapped Chayne on the back, and Chayne waited for him to go before he said to Geoff, “I can understand why you hate him. I hate him, already myself, and he’s not even in my territory.”
“Oh, by the way, Chayne,” Robert Heinz shouted, coming back down the stairs with his coat in hand, “When you get the chance, I want to talk to you about the music. There a couple of changes I’d like us to make, alright?”
“Okay, it’s official,” Chayne decided while the new priest was leaving. “We hate him.”
“I don’t... hate him,” Geoff said.
“Well, Father Popularity Poll, while you try to convince yourself of that, why don’t you let me help you?”
“What?”
“Ann came over the night before last and asked me to talk to you.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Now, let’s talk. This is the kind of thing I generally try to avoid, but now that I’m here.....”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Which brings us back to the popularity poll.”
“It was not a—”
“Geoffrey, stop.”
“It’s just that he’s so wonderful, and I’m so.... Geoff.” Geoff said.
“And what’s wrong with Geoff? I mean, criminally wrong?”
“Look Chayne, I don’t feel like this right now.”
Chayne started to talk, then said, “Well good, because neither do I,” and turned around for the door. As he was opening it, Geoff said: “Chayne!”
“Yes.”
“Look at me!”
“I’m looking,” said Chayne, patiently.
“Would you say that I’m impressive? Would you say that I’m attractive. Really?”
“I’d say you’re average,” Chayne answered too weary to be less than honest. “No better, no worse. You’re a priest, Geoff, you don’t have to be attractive. Your genes aren’t getting passed on.”
When Geoff was about to say something, Chayne added.
“And I’m average too. What’s the problem? Why does everyone have to be tall and beautiful.? Why does everybody have to be somebody?”
“That’s easy for you to say. You are somebody.”
Chayne laughed outloud.
“This is all I have,” Geoff said. “And now this... Bobby just walks in and takes it, makes camp. He even sent Ann packing.”
“Ann?”
“Ann left this morning. I—I don’t know what to do... about anything.
“Chayne?”
“Yes?”
“What did you do... when you realized you couldn’t stay back East anymore?”
“You know what I did, Geoff. I came here. I came home.”
“Oh.”
“Only, you’re already home.”
“Well, what did you next?”
“I’m still doing it. You wait for the next step.”
“Is everything all right?” Will asked Ann when she came back down from the spare room.
“Ah, yes,” Ann looked around the cluttered living room.
“Sorry everything’s such a mess,” Will Decker said.
“Oh... oh, no,” Ann said. “I just... really appreciate you all having me.”
“We’re glad. We were saying you needed a friend,” Will modified this with a smile. “Or… that you needed to realize who your friends are. Hannah went to the store. She’ll be back in a minute.”
“Do you really think the new priest is better than my brother” Ann started, and was embarrassed at the juvenile nature of the question.
Will folded down his paper before asking:
“Do you really think he’s better looking than me?”
Ann looked levelly at Will and then both of them laughed at each other as Hannah came through the door with two grocery bags.
“There’s more in the car,” she said. “If you’re all free enough to laugh, you’re free enough to get a bag.”
Ann was first out the door, and as she came back in with two bags, Hannah said, “I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I feel like drinking after choir practice—”
“That’s right, there is choir practice tonight.” Ann remembered placing the bags on the counter.
“Then,” Hannah said, nodding. “I think we should go to the Blue Jewel. I need to smoke and drink and laugh my troubles away.”
“Troubles?” said Ann.
“Piano troubles, bill troubles, kids at the school troubles.”
Suddenly Hannah threw back her head and screamed. Then she smiled brightly. “I feel better now.”
“Good,” Ann said, smiling.
“Encore!” Chayne and Shannon shouted, but Hannah shook her head and sat back down, while the Comets decided what else to play.
“You want something to drink?” Jewell asked. “I’ll even be nice and make it on the house.”
“How do you make money? No,” Hannah smiled. Then said. “You know what, I’ll have a Coke.”
“What about you Ann?” Jewell said.
“You know what,” Hannah elbowed her, “Drink on me, Ann!”
“Ah... A strawberry daiquiri?” Ann seemed to be looking at the other two women for permission, and they laughed.
“It’s allowed,” said Hannah. “But maybe you’d rather have a Brandy Alexander.”
“I’ve never had one.”
“It’s hot,” said Jewell. “For the cold weather. I wish I could have a Brandy Alexander,”
“That’s right,” Hannah touched Jewell’s stomach, “You’ve got a baby coming. When’s it due?”
Jewell rolled her eyes: “May.”
Jewell went off behind the bar.
“What are you looking at?” Hannah started. Then, eyes widening: “Who are you looking at? You’re—” Hannah started to laugh.
“What?” Ann blushed.
“Nothing,” Hannah shook her head and smiled. “Nothing.”
“Hannah!” Ann tried to get Hannah to tell her what was so funny, but by the time the drinks arrived, she knew it was useless.
The Brandy Alexander was going to Ann’s head, and Hannah got up to talk to Chayne.
“Did you know that Ann likes Diggs?” Hannah said without introduction as Shannon and Jewell burst out laughing.
“She told you?” Chayne marveled.
“No, She just eye fucks him so hard I can’t believe he still walks straight.”
“Well,” Chayne leaned closer. They were both whispering over the Comets music, “what would you like me to do about it?”
On Friday, when Ann came home, she laughed the moment she walked in through the door.
“What are you laughin’ at?” Will demanded from his easy chair, smiling as he pushed the hair out of his face and rumpled his newspaper.
Ann shrugged. She was laughing because she had called 8411 Shuster home, and the word seemed right.
“I actually feel like it’s Christmas,” she said.
“If it feels like Christmas now,” Will said looking around the cluttered house, “wait till we start to decorate. Wait till we,” he raised an eyebrow, “bother to clean.”
That night Ann was in her room going over papers because there was nothing else to do, though they might end up at the Blue Jewel or even Chayne’s house. She had ignored the ring at the front door when she heard Hannah tapping on the door of her room and Ann opened it.
“Someone’s here for you,” Hannah said, excitedly.
Ann looked perplexed, and as she did, Hannah began to pull the brush on the dresser through Ann’s hair. “Now go,” she said, shoving the other woman down the narrow flight of stairs.
“Come down slowly, Ann,” Will told her, smiling.
More perplexed, Ann obeyed and glided—to the best of her ability—down the stairs.
When she was downstairs, she gasped.
Standing in the middle of the living room, hair combed ridiculously neat, a small bouquet of grocery store flowers in his hand stood Jason Dygulski, hamster faced and grinning,
MORE NEXT WEEK
CONCLUSION
Thursday morning, Geoff woke up to the sun in his eyes. Which never happened. He had hit snooze on his alarm, thinking it was wrong because he couldn’t smell Ann’s coffee. But when he came downstairs in the early morning, there was still no Ann. What was more, he realized that he’d missed eight o’clock Mass. Walking into the kitchen Geoff found, in her big, sloppy handwriting a note.
BIG BROTHER,
I HAD TO LEAVE. I REALIZED IT LAST NIGHT WHEN I WAS TRYING TO SLEEP. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE ALONE NOW THAT BOBBY’S HERE. I’M LIVING ON SHUSTER STREET.
LOVE,
ANNIE
P.S.
XOXOXOXO!!!
Geoffrey Ford was so mad he could have hit something. The door opened and in came Bobby.
“You finally woke up, are you feeling alright?” asked the priest.
“I covered the eight o’clock for you. Anytime you need me to, let me know, alright?”
“Ann is gone,” Geoff said breathlessly. “She decided to move away. She’s gone.”
Robert Heinz seemed to be considering this for the moment, then he said, “It’s probably best. She didn’t belong in a rectory anyway.”
Before Geoff could recover from that there was a ring at the door, and he went to answer it.
“Chayne!”
“Good morning, Geoffrey,” Chayne Kandzierski was leaning against the door. “May I come in?”
“Come on in,” Geoff gestured to the living room, genuinely glad to see Chayne. “You’re hanging out in the rectory a lot this year.”
“Yeah,” Chayne didn’t look pleased by this.
“Can I get you something?” Geoff asked.
“No, your sister said you might want to talk is all.”
“Chayne?”
Chayne looked at the other man in black.
“You have to be Chayne Kandzierski,” Bobby offered his hand.
Chayne, reluctantly, offered his hand, and Bobby shook it briskly.
“Father Robert Heinz,” he identified himself. “You can call me Father Bobby,”
“Do I have to?”
“As you wish. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Chayne. I’ve gotta be off now.” Robert Heinz clapped Chayne on the back, and Chayne waited for him to go before he said to Geoff, “I can understand why you hate him. I hate him, already myself, and he’s not even in my territory.”
“Oh, by the way, Chayne,” Robert Heinz shouted, coming back down the stairs with his coat in hand, “When you get the chance, I want to talk to you about the music. There a couple of changes I’d like us to make, alright?”
“Okay, it’s official,” Chayne decided while the new priest was leaving. “We hate him.”
“I don’t... hate him,” Geoff said.
“Well, Father Popularity Poll, while you try to convince yourself of that, why don’t you let me help you?”
“What?”
“Ann came over the night before last and asked me to talk to you.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Now, let’s talk. This is the kind of thing I generally try to avoid, but now that I’m here.....”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Which brings us back to the popularity poll.”
“It was not a—”
“Geoffrey, stop.”
“It’s just that he’s so wonderful, and I’m so.... Geoff.” Geoff said.
“And what’s wrong with Geoff? I mean, criminally wrong?”
“Look Chayne, I don’t feel like this right now.”
Chayne started to talk, then said, “Well good, because neither do I,” and turned around for the door. As he was opening it, Geoff said: “Chayne!”
“Yes.”
“Look at me!”
“I’m looking,” said Chayne, patiently.
“Would you say that I’m impressive? Would you say that I’m attractive. Really?”
“I’d say you’re average,” Chayne answered too weary to be less than honest. “No better, no worse. You’re a priest, Geoff, you don’t have to be attractive. Your genes aren’t getting passed on.”
When Geoff was about to say something, Chayne added.
“And I’m average too. What’s the problem? Why does everyone have to be tall and beautiful.? Why does everybody have to be somebody?”
“That’s easy for you to say. You are somebody.”
Chayne laughed outloud.
“This is all I have,” Geoff said. “And now this... Bobby just walks in and takes it, makes camp. He even sent Ann packing.”
“Ann?”
“Ann left this morning. I—I don’t know what to do... about anything.
“Chayne?”
“Yes?”
“What did you do... when you realized you couldn’t stay back East anymore?”
“You know what I did, Geoff. I came here. I came home.”
“Oh.”
“Only, you’re already home.”
“Well, what did you next?”
“I’m still doing it. You wait for the next step.”
“Is everything all right?” Will asked Ann when she came back down from the spare room.
“Ah, yes,” Ann looked around the cluttered living room.
“Sorry everything’s such a mess,” Will Decker said.
“Oh... oh, no,” Ann said. “I just... really appreciate you all having me.”
“We’re glad. We were saying you needed a friend,” Will modified this with a smile. “Or… that you needed to realize who your friends are. Hannah went to the store. She’ll be back in a minute.”
“Do you really think the new priest is better than my brother” Ann started, and was embarrassed at the juvenile nature of the question.
Will folded down his paper before asking:
“Do you really think he’s better looking than me?”
Ann looked levelly at Will and then both of them laughed at each other as Hannah came through the door with two grocery bags.
“There’s more in the car,” she said. “If you’re all free enough to laugh, you’re free enough to get a bag.”
Ann was first out the door, and as she came back in with two bags, Hannah said, “I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I feel like drinking after choir practice—”
“That’s right, there is choir practice tonight.” Ann remembered placing the bags on the counter.
“Then,” Hannah said, nodding. “I think we should go to the Blue Jewel. I need to smoke and drink and laugh my troubles away.”
“Troubles?” said Ann.
“Piano troubles, bill troubles, kids at the school troubles.”
Suddenly Hannah threw back her head and screamed. Then she smiled brightly. “I feel better now.”
“Good,” Ann said, smiling.
“Encore!” Chayne and Shannon shouted, but Hannah shook her head and sat back down, while the Comets decided what else to play.
“You want something to drink?” Jewell asked. “I’ll even be nice and make it on the house.”
“How do you make money? No,” Hannah smiled. Then said. “You know what, I’ll have a Coke.”
“What about you Ann?” Jewell said.
“You know what,” Hannah elbowed her, “Drink on me, Ann!”
“Ah... A strawberry daiquiri?” Ann seemed to be looking at the other two women for permission, and they laughed.
“It’s allowed,” said Hannah. “But maybe you’d rather have a Brandy Alexander.”
“I’ve never had one.”
“It’s hot,” said Jewell. “For the cold weather. I wish I could have a Brandy Alexander,”
“That’s right,” Hannah touched Jewell’s stomach, “You’ve got a baby coming. When’s it due?”
Jewell rolled her eyes: “May.”
Jewell went off behind the bar.
“What are you looking at?” Hannah started. Then, eyes widening: “Who are you looking at? You’re—” Hannah started to laugh.
“What?” Ann blushed.
“Nothing,” Hannah shook her head and smiled. “Nothing.”
“Hannah!” Ann tried to get Hannah to tell her what was so funny, but by the time the drinks arrived, she knew it was useless.
The Brandy Alexander was going to Ann’s head, and Hannah got up to talk to Chayne.
“Did you know that Ann likes Diggs?” Hannah said without introduction as Shannon and Jewell burst out laughing.
“She told you?” Chayne marveled.
“No, She just eye fucks him so hard I can’t believe he still walks straight.”
“Well,” Chayne leaned closer. They were both whispering over the Comets music, “what would you like me to do about it?”
On Friday, when Ann came home, she laughed the moment she walked in through the door.
“What are you laughin’ at?” Will demanded from his easy chair, smiling as he pushed the hair out of his face and rumpled his newspaper.
Ann shrugged. She was laughing because she had called 8411 Shuster home, and the word seemed right.
“I actually feel like it’s Christmas,” she said.
“If it feels like Christmas now,” Will said looking around the cluttered house, “wait till we start to decorate. Wait till we,” he raised an eyebrow, “bother to clean.”
That night Ann was in her room going over papers because there was nothing else to do, though they might end up at the Blue Jewel or even Chayne’s house. She had ignored the ring at the front door when she heard Hannah tapping on the door of her room and Ann opened it.
“Someone’s here for you,” Hannah said, excitedly.
Ann looked perplexed, and as she did, Hannah began to pull the brush on the dresser through Ann’s hair. “Now go,” she said, shoving the other woman down the narrow flight of stairs.
“Come down slowly, Ann,” Will told her, smiling.
More perplexed, Ann obeyed and glided—to the best of her ability—down the stairs.
When she was downstairs, she gasped.
Standing in the middle of the living room, hair combed ridiculously neat, a small bouquet of grocery store flowers in his hand stood Jason Dygulski, hamster faced and grinning,
MORE NEXT WEEK
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a great portion. I like how things are going and I am glad that Ann is enjoying life now. I think this priest drama is going to continue. Excellent writing and I look forward to more next week!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Well, next week we'll have to get back to our old friends, the Lewis's. The priest drama won't be Ann's problem anymore, and it won't be ours. HOWEVER, it may become someone else's.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
CHAPTER TEN
CHRISTMAS
“Hold still, Thom!” Frank McLarchlahn said, taking a swig from his coffee. “Stick out your chin a little more. The boy’s a Michelangelo, isn’t he, Patricia?”
“That’s why I married him, Dad,” Patti sat down at the kitchen table, pulling her housecoat closer.
“Thomas, stop smirking,” Frank said.
“Oh, leave the boy alone,” Sara said, coming into the kitchen.
“When are we going to open presents!” Russell demanded coming down the back stairs. Behind him Uncle John’s boys chanted, “Presents! Presents!”
“Restraint in everything, Russell!” Thom said.
“Thom!” Frank reprimanded his son-in-law for talking.
“Good morning and Merry Christmas to you too, son,” Patti said, reaching up to swat the back of Russell’s head.
“I think Russell’s got a point,” Sara decided. “When I was a little girl we’d open presents right after Midnight Mass. The suspense is killing me. Let’s open now.”
` At this John’s three sons began to cheer before Patti said, “But everyone’s not up yet.”
“Well, let’s wake ‘em.”
Frank stopped painting.
“You care if we stop for a while?”
“Ah?” Thom looked as if he were hesitating in is answer. He smiled brightly.
“Not at all. Well, Russ, go up and wake John. I’m surprised you didn’t wake him up when you were getting out of bed.”
“John didn’t stay in my room,” Russell said.
Thom and Patti both eyed him, and then turned their gazes on each other.
“He... ah...” Patti stumbled over her words. “He and Jackie... stopped...left after coffee... went to play...”
“In the snow,” Thom finished her sentence.
“Yes,” said Patti. “The snow.”
“Where’s Daddy!” Tommy asked Russell, tugging at the older boy’s housecoat.
“Probably just talking with Jackie,” Sara said. “They probably talked all night long.”
Thom raised an eyebrow at his mother in law.
“Dawlings!” They heard Kathleen before she arrived at the base of the stairs, followed by the vacant eyed Chase, a new and, in Tom’s estimate, entirely two young companion.
“We were about to open presents,” Sara started, “but we can’t find John.”
“He and Jackie slipped off last night,” Frank elaborated, putting up the paints and moving the easel from the center of the kitchen. “and neither of them has come back since.”
“Oh, marvelous,” Kathleen cried, clasping her hands together, “That means they finally had sex!”
“What’s that?” Tommy and Russ both demanded, screwing up their little faces and looking at their namesakes in confusion.
Thom and Russell looked to each other, Russell made a conciliatory gesture to his father who said, “Something that there’s been a whole lot too much of in this house for the last few holidays.”
“If you ask me there hasn’t been enough,” Kathleen differed, making her way to the coffee pot.
Thom, Frank, Patti, Russell, Sara and Kathleen and the boys made their way to the living room.
Russell said, “I have to sing at ten o’clock Mass,” and Thom said they’d better start opening presents immediately then while Patti said, “Make it quick ‘cause we need to put dinner in the oven.”
“Chase, dear, would you go upstairs with Russell to wake up the others,” Kathleen asked, and Russell felt strange walking up the stairs beside someone whom, when he snuck side glances at him, looked to be about twenty.
“I work at Pizza Hut,” Chase said by way of introduction as they came upstairs. “What do you do?”
“I work for the CIA. I’m actually forty-five years old.”
Russell stopped to knock on his Aunt Kristin’s door while Chase stood and looked at him in amazement.
“Really?” Chase marveled.
Russell looked at him, dumbfounded.
“No.” he said.
The tree was high and green, touching the ceiling and clothed in silver tinsel and red bows, its green smelling branches hanging dark over the mass of presents, so many, so well wrapped in red and gold, in green, in stripes, in ribbons. With such a large group there were many presents. Then, as made sense with there only being four children in the family, and only one of them being over five years old, the bulk of them fell to Russell. For some reason this always put a strange stress on him when, after holding back for so long, suddenly the tree was his. He was the only person in the house that everyone gave a presents to. One mother, one father, three uncles, three aunts, three grandparents, none giving gifts as couples, some giving more than one gift.
Thom and Patti, even at their worst and most depressed never spared expense on their only child.
This year three huge journals like ledgers with hard covers that would take months to fill, felt pens to go with them—this from Patti. Those were not the only present, but the one he liked best, that and a hardbound set of The Lord of the Rings.
Thom gave him three things, none of them in boxes. The first was two hundred dollars out of his wallet so that Russell could “Get himself what he really wanted to wear,” the next was—strange coming from Thom (or anyone) a large cedar chest to go at the foot of his bed. The last was in the hall closet and Thom maneuvered Russell toward it, pretending his son’s shoulders were a stirring wheel and crying, cheerfully, “This way, to the right, vroom vroom. Screech,” as they approached the closet.
Russell opened it.
“Dad!”
“If you don’t like it, I’ll—well, I can’t very well take it back can I?”
“No, Dad,” Russell’s voice was smaller as he marveled over it, lifting it up. “No, I love it. But I can’t play it.”
“Jackie can teach you,” Thom told him. “Half the family can teach you.”
“You can teach me!”
“Aw Russ, I don’t—what?”
Thom caught an almost horrified look in his son’s eyes as Russell murmured, “Thomas Lewis ’75.”
“If you wanted your own instead I—” Thom started, but Russell threw his arms around his father, burying his red head in the older man’s shoulder.
“Russell... Russell,” Thom said. He was about to say, “Enough,” when he realized that this was a small miracle and let his son embrace him, even if the boy was almost bigger than him and the embrace was going to knock him to the ground.
Suddenly the door opened on this scene of filial bliss, and Jackie came into the house, looking red and petrified.
Thom and Russell separated.
“Welcome,” started Thom, “Jaclyn.”
“Where’s John?” Sara demanded aloud.
“Patti,” Jackie said, ignoring John’s mother, “I need to talk to you. Now.”
“Should we wait until—?” Patti began.
“Now.”
“Very well.”
Patti stood up and announced, “Part two of the opening of presents will take place… later on. Right now Jaclyn Dara Lewis and I are going to begin the Christmas Dinner and my son, Russell Fenian Lewis is going to get dressed for ten a.m. Mass.”
“Alright,” Russell said. “Thanks Mom, Thanks Dad.”
He ran halfway up the stairs before remembering the guitar, running back down, throwing his arms around short Thom again, then running back up with his instrument.
MORE TOMORROW
CHRISTMAS
“Hold still, Thom!” Frank McLarchlahn said, taking a swig from his coffee. “Stick out your chin a little more. The boy’s a Michelangelo, isn’t he, Patricia?”
“That’s why I married him, Dad,” Patti sat down at the kitchen table, pulling her housecoat closer.
“Thomas, stop smirking,” Frank said.
“Oh, leave the boy alone,” Sara said, coming into the kitchen.
“When are we going to open presents!” Russell demanded coming down the back stairs. Behind him Uncle John’s boys chanted, “Presents! Presents!”
“Restraint in everything, Russell!” Thom said.
“Thom!” Frank reprimanded his son-in-law for talking.
“Good morning and Merry Christmas to you too, son,” Patti said, reaching up to swat the back of Russell’s head.
“I think Russell’s got a point,” Sara decided. “When I was a little girl we’d open presents right after Midnight Mass. The suspense is killing me. Let’s open now.”
` At this John’s three sons began to cheer before Patti said, “But everyone’s not up yet.”
“Well, let’s wake ‘em.”
Frank stopped painting.
“You care if we stop for a while?”
“Ah?” Thom looked as if he were hesitating in is answer. He smiled brightly.
“Not at all. Well, Russ, go up and wake John. I’m surprised you didn’t wake him up when you were getting out of bed.”
“John didn’t stay in my room,” Russell said.
Thom and Patti both eyed him, and then turned their gazes on each other.
“He... ah...” Patti stumbled over her words. “He and Jackie... stopped...left after coffee... went to play...”
“In the snow,” Thom finished her sentence.
“Yes,” said Patti. “The snow.”
“Where’s Daddy!” Tommy asked Russell, tugging at the older boy’s housecoat.
“Probably just talking with Jackie,” Sara said. “They probably talked all night long.”
Thom raised an eyebrow at his mother in law.
“Dawlings!” They heard Kathleen before she arrived at the base of the stairs, followed by the vacant eyed Chase, a new and, in Tom’s estimate, entirely two young companion.
“We were about to open presents,” Sara started, “but we can’t find John.”
“He and Jackie slipped off last night,” Frank elaborated, putting up the paints and moving the easel from the center of the kitchen. “and neither of them has come back since.”
“Oh, marvelous,” Kathleen cried, clasping her hands together, “That means they finally had sex!”
“What’s that?” Tommy and Russ both demanded, screwing up their little faces and looking at their namesakes in confusion.
Thom and Russell looked to each other, Russell made a conciliatory gesture to his father who said, “Something that there’s been a whole lot too much of in this house for the last few holidays.”
“If you ask me there hasn’t been enough,” Kathleen differed, making her way to the coffee pot.
Thom, Frank, Patti, Russell, Sara and Kathleen and the boys made their way to the living room.
Russell said, “I have to sing at ten o’clock Mass,” and Thom said they’d better start opening presents immediately then while Patti said, “Make it quick ‘cause we need to put dinner in the oven.”
“Chase, dear, would you go upstairs with Russell to wake up the others,” Kathleen asked, and Russell felt strange walking up the stairs beside someone whom, when he snuck side glances at him, looked to be about twenty.
“I work at Pizza Hut,” Chase said by way of introduction as they came upstairs. “What do you do?”
“I work for the CIA. I’m actually forty-five years old.”
Russell stopped to knock on his Aunt Kristin’s door while Chase stood and looked at him in amazement.
“Really?” Chase marveled.
Russell looked at him, dumbfounded.
“No.” he said.
The tree was high and green, touching the ceiling and clothed in silver tinsel and red bows, its green smelling branches hanging dark over the mass of presents, so many, so well wrapped in red and gold, in green, in stripes, in ribbons. With such a large group there were many presents. Then, as made sense with there only being four children in the family, and only one of them being over five years old, the bulk of them fell to Russell. For some reason this always put a strange stress on him when, after holding back for so long, suddenly the tree was his. He was the only person in the house that everyone gave a presents to. One mother, one father, three uncles, three aunts, three grandparents, none giving gifts as couples, some giving more than one gift.
Thom and Patti, even at their worst and most depressed never spared expense on their only child.
This year three huge journals like ledgers with hard covers that would take months to fill, felt pens to go with them—this from Patti. Those were not the only present, but the one he liked best, that and a hardbound set of The Lord of the Rings.
Thom gave him three things, none of them in boxes. The first was two hundred dollars out of his wallet so that Russell could “Get himself what he really wanted to wear,” the next was—strange coming from Thom (or anyone) a large cedar chest to go at the foot of his bed. The last was in the hall closet and Thom maneuvered Russell toward it, pretending his son’s shoulders were a stirring wheel and crying, cheerfully, “This way, to the right, vroom vroom. Screech,” as they approached the closet.
Russell opened it.
“Dad!”
“If you don’t like it, I’ll—well, I can’t very well take it back can I?”
“No, Dad,” Russell’s voice was smaller as he marveled over it, lifting it up. “No, I love it. But I can’t play it.”
“Jackie can teach you,” Thom told him. “Half the family can teach you.”
“You can teach me!”
“Aw Russ, I don’t—what?”
Thom caught an almost horrified look in his son’s eyes as Russell murmured, “Thomas Lewis ’75.”
“If you wanted your own instead I—” Thom started, but Russell threw his arms around his father, burying his red head in the older man’s shoulder.
“Russell... Russell,” Thom said. He was about to say, “Enough,” when he realized that this was a small miracle and let his son embrace him, even if the boy was almost bigger than him and the embrace was going to knock him to the ground.
Suddenly the door opened on this scene of filial bliss, and Jackie came into the house, looking red and petrified.
Thom and Russell separated.
“Welcome,” started Thom, “Jaclyn.”
“Where’s John?” Sara demanded aloud.
“Patti,” Jackie said, ignoring John’s mother, “I need to talk to you. Now.”
“Should we wait until—?” Patti began.
“Now.”
“Very well.”
Patti stood up and announced, “Part two of the opening of presents will take place… later on. Right now Jaclyn Dara Lewis and I are going to begin the Christmas Dinner and my son, Russell Fenian Lewis is going to get dressed for ten a.m. Mass.”
“Alright,” Russell said. “Thanks Mom, Thanks Dad.”
He ran halfway up the stairs before remembering the guitar, running back down, throwing his arms around short Thom again, then running back up with his instrument.
MORE TOMORROW
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
I am a bit confused, is this a flashback? It was a great portion either way and I look forward to more tomorrow.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Well, we already talked about it.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
“Do you need us to help?” Kristin and Kathleen entered the kitchen.
“Not... right now?” Jackie said.
“Well if you ever need to talk...” Kristin left the rest off, putting her hand to the swinging door and preparing to return to the living room.
“Or if you need any tips about sex—”
“:Mother!” Kristin reprimanded, grabbing Kathleen’s arm.
“She’s such a prude—” started Kathleen as her daughter guided her out of the kitchen.
Patti, going into the refrigerator, began to pull out all of the unfinished dishes.
“Your mother thinks you and John had sex last night,” Patti said shaking her head.
“Well, that’s because we did.”
“What?”
“Patricia,” Denise began, entering the kitchen, “do you need any help in here?”
“Ah...” Patti looked to Jackie who had been starting to speak and had her mouth open, “No, Denise. Thanks, Denise.”
“Well, really! I come all this way to be a little help, and there’s nothing to do.”
“If it helps, I heard Father Geoff saying he needed help now that Ann doesn’t live with him,” Jackie said.
“Well, that’s where I’m going, then,” Denise said before Patti could tell her Jackie wasn’t serious, and smiling, Patti’s sister left the kitchen.
Patti sat at the kitchen table, her fingers linked in the handle of the coffee mug, staring at nothing.
“Patti? Patricia?”
“Yes,” said Patti. “I’m here, I just don’t know what to say. Do you want me to say anything? Where... where’s my brother?”
“I left him asleep in my bed,” Jackie said, the phrase strange in her own ears.
They heard the front door slam, and voices talking. Jackie grew rigid. Both women were quiet. Jackie heard someone say, “John!”
“I need to go,” Jackie said, rising and heading for the back door.
“Jackie—”
“Later, Patricia,” Jackie said, and was gone.
She was just barely out when John stormed in red faced disheveled, followed by a dazed Thom.
“Where is she?” John hissed at Patti.
Patti, fingers still linked in the handle of the cup, gestured toward the back door.
The boys tried to follow their father, but Patti, with a gentle hand, kept them back, as John ran into the driveway after the retreating station wagon.
“Come back here!” he shouted. “You....”
Thom, coming out into the driveway to lay a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder heard the younger man murmur, “Bitch.” as the car screeched down Breckinridge Avenue.
“Don’t go,” Ted murmured.
“Theodore, I haven’t gone anywhere yet.”
“But you’re about to go. Just…. Let’s stay here.”
“Aren’t you going to your family’s house?” Chayne said.
They lay in Ted’s large bed in his apartment outside of town, and Ted’s arms were about Chayne’s waist.
“He murmured into Chayne’s back, “You feel so damn good.”
“And you feel amazing,” Chayne said. “And this feels amazing.”
“Let’s,” Ted began, not even moving his face from Chayne’s back, “make the decision that next Christmas we can just do this all day.”
Chayne, who had a hard enough time leaving Ted’s king sized bed, turned around to face the other man and kiss his mouth, touching his hand to his rough cheek.
“That,” Chayne said, “sounds like a plan.”
Ted blinked at Chayne sleepily and turned from him to yawn.
“Let’s at least have coffee before you go.”
“Yes,” Chayne said. “Let’s.”
Geoff Ford stretched and blinked, joyous on Christmas morning. The clock said that it was just a little before nine. He could smell Ann’s cooking and coffee, and this made him so happy he could forgive the fact that Father Robert, in leaving town had left him with all the Christmas masses.
He was coming out of his room when he saw Ann yawning and coming out of hers.
“That smells great,” he told her, before he realized that if Ann was just waking upstairs, she couldn’t very well be cooking downstairs.
“Wow,” said Ann. “Kind of makes you wonder who’s cooking? Doesn’t it?”
Geoff didn’t answer. They were both quiet a few minutes before Geoff said, “I’ll go down first.”
In the back of his mind he was thinking that maybe this was some sort of mad kitchen killer who whipped up marvelous meals before killing priests and abducting their sisters. His mind ran down all sorts of interesting avenues as he entered the dining room with service for three laid out. Ann followed him.
The kitchen door swung open and out came Denise Mc.Larchlahn with a stack of pancakes.
“Don’t worry,” Denise said, smiling. “There’s more to come. we’re just getting started.”
She put down the pancakes and tickled Geoff Ford’s belly. “We need to get something in your tummy before you start preaching, Father. Merry Christmas!”
There was a tap at Russell’s door. He said, “Open,” and then realized it wasn’t and crossed the room to turn the handle.
“John,” said Russell. “We were all—”
“Do you need a ride to church? I’ll drive. I’ll let you drive.”
“Uh,” Russell nodded his head. “Yeah, okay.”
“You look nice.”
Russell had on black slacks and a white shirt, plain enough, with a red tie. A black blazer lay draped on the bed, and his very red hair was parted and hanging to his shoulders. He figured it would contrast with the jacket.
“Thanks,” Russell told his uncle, but had to acknowledge. “You don’t. Do you wanna talk?”
John was wearing last night’s jeans and sweater. He looked a little dumbstruck, his thick lips hanging open, his eyes opaque, his hair a bit of a mess.
“No.” he said, distractedly. “Just get ready and be downstairs as soon as possible. Alright?”
“Alright,” Russell said, and shrugged.
MORE TOMORROW
“Not... right now?” Jackie said.
“Well if you ever need to talk...” Kristin left the rest off, putting her hand to the swinging door and preparing to return to the living room.
“Or if you need any tips about sex—”
“:Mother!” Kristin reprimanded, grabbing Kathleen’s arm.
“She’s such a prude—” started Kathleen as her daughter guided her out of the kitchen.
Patti, going into the refrigerator, began to pull out all of the unfinished dishes.
“Your mother thinks you and John had sex last night,” Patti said shaking her head.
“Well, that’s because we did.”
“What?”
“Patricia,” Denise began, entering the kitchen, “do you need any help in here?”
“Ah...” Patti looked to Jackie who had been starting to speak and had her mouth open, “No, Denise. Thanks, Denise.”
“Well, really! I come all this way to be a little help, and there’s nothing to do.”
“If it helps, I heard Father Geoff saying he needed help now that Ann doesn’t live with him,” Jackie said.
“Well, that’s where I’m going, then,” Denise said before Patti could tell her Jackie wasn’t serious, and smiling, Patti’s sister left the kitchen.
Patti sat at the kitchen table, her fingers linked in the handle of the coffee mug, staring at nothing.
“Patti? Patricia?”
“Yes,” said Patti. “I’m here, I just don’t know what to say. Do you want me to say anything? Where... where’s my brother?”
“I left him asleep in my bed,” Jackie said, the phrase strange in her own ears.
They heard the front door slam, and voices talking. Jackie grew rigid. Both women were quiet. Jackie heard someone say, “John!”
“I need to go,” Jackie said, rising and heading for the back door.
“Jackie—”
“Later, Patricia,” Jackie said, and was gone.
She was just barely out when John stormed in red faced disheveled, followed by a dazed Thom.
“Where is she?” John hissed at Patti.
Patti, fingers still linked in the handle of the cup, gestured toward the back door.
The boys tried to follow their father, but Patti, with a gentle hand, kept them back, as John ran into the driveway after the retreating station wagon.
“Come back here!” he shouted. “You....”
Thom, coming out into the driveway to lay a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder heard the younger man murmur, “Bitch.” as the car screeched down Breckinridge Avenue.
“Don’t go,” Ted murmured.
“Theodore, I haven’t gone anywhere yet.”
“But you’re about to go. Just…. Let’s stay here.”
“Aren’t you going to your family’s house?” Chayne said.
They lay in Ted’s large bed in his apartment outside of town, and Ted’s arms were about Chayne’s waist.
“He murmured into Chayne’s back, “You feel so damn good.”
“And you feel amazing,” Chayne said. “And this feels amazing.”
“Let’s,” Ted began, not even moving his face from Chayne’s back, “make the decision that next Christmas we can just do this all day.”
Chayne, who had a hard enough time leaving Ted’s king sized bed, turned around to face the other man and kiss his mouth, touching his hand to his rough cheek.
“That,” Chayne said, “sounds like a plan.”
Ted blinked at Chayne sleepily and turned from him to yawn.
“Let’s at least have coffee before you go.”
“Yes,” Chayne said. “Let’s.”
Geoff Ford stretched and blinked, joyous on Christmas morning. The clock said that it was just a little before nine. He could smell Ann’s cooking and coffee, and this made him so happy he could forgive the fact that Father Robert, in leaving town had left him with all the Christmas masses.
He was coming out of his room when he saw Ann yawning and coming out of hers.
“That smells great,” he told her, before he realized that if Ann was just waking upstairs, she couldn’t very well be cooking downstairs.
“Wow,” said Ann. “Kind of makes you wonder who’s cooking? Doesn’t it?”
Geoff didn’t answer. They were both quiet a few minutes before Geoff said, “I’ll go down first.”
In the back of his mind he was thinking that maybe this was some sort of mad kitchen killer who whipped up marvelous meals before killing priests and abducting their sisters. His mind ran down all sorts of interesting avenues as he entered the dining room with service for three laid out. Ann followed him.
The kitchen door swung open and out came Denise Mc.Larchlahn with a stack of pancakes.
“Don’t worry,” Denise said, smiling. “There’s more to come. we’re just getting started.”
She put down the pancakes and tickled Geoff Ford’s belly. “We need to get something in your tummy before you start preaching, Father. Merry Christmas!”
There was a tap at Russell’s door. He said, “Open,” and then realized it wasn’t and crossed the room to turn the handle.
“John,” said Russell. “We were all—”
“Do you need a ride to church? I’ll drive. I’ll let you drive.”
“Uh,” Russell nodded his head. “Yeah, okay.”
“You look nice.”
Russell had on black slacks and a white shirt, plain enough, with a red tie. A black blazer lay draped on the bed, and his very red hair was parted and hanging to his shoulders. He figured it would contrast with the jacket.
“Thanks,” Russell told his uncle, but had to acknowledge. “You don’t. Do you wanna talk?”
John was wearing last night’s jeans and sweater. He looked a little dumbstruck, his thick lips hanging open, his eyes opaque, his hair a bit of a mess.
“No.” he said, distractedly. “Just get ready and be downstairs as soon as possible. Alright?”
“Alright,” Russell said, and shrugged.
MORE TOMORROW
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
This is turning into a very eventful Christmas and I am enjoying it a lot! That was a great portion and I look forward to more tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading. Eventful? Yes.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
“Merry Christmas, Jackie.”
Sharon Kandzierski answered the door.
Noting the confused look on Jaclyn Lewis’s face, Sharon tilted her head and said, “Jaclyn, are you alrright?”
“Is Felice here?”
“We’re all here. I think Felice is in the kitchen.”
No one in the living room acknowledged the white woman, except that Edmund Prince looked up for a second to wonder who she was. In the kitchen, Chayne and Felice were sitting at the table swapping stories with Pethane and Jean, and Mickey was leaning against the refrigerator
“Merry Christmas, Jackie,” said Chayne, a question in his voice.
Felice asked the question after introducing Jackie to Pethane and Jean.
“Can you talk for a second?”
Felice’s wide eyes looked around for a second. She took Jackie by the elbow.
“We can go to Sharon’s room.”
“You can stay right here,” said Chayne. “I need to get over to the church anyway. Come on, family, clear out.”
When they were gone, Jackie held out her hand and said, “Give me a cigarette,” and then they moved to the table and sat down.
“Last night, after Mass—”
“Wasn’t it beautiful?” Felice remarked in her deep voice.
“Yes it was,” Jackie skipped over that, lighting her Newport.
“John was being all romantic, and he wanted us to sneak off to my apartment. I said no. We went back to Thom and Patti’s. You know, with the family. Then we went walking, had a snow ball fight. Went back to my place, talked a lot, drank cider—and liquor and started to kiss. And it felt so good. I think John’s only kissed me once, and it was... before Russell was born. It just felt so good. This man I’ve wanted for over half my life. And we thought we should stop, but I didn’t want to... You know? I just wanted to throw caution to the wind—”
“Oh, my God,” Felice barked, clasping her hands together in joy. “You fucked him!”
Jackie’s mouth flew open and then she gave her friend a withering glance.
“I—we made... love.”
“Call it what you will, why are you here all crazy and distressed?”
“Oh my God,” Jackie took a final drag off the cigarette. “It was so—good! It was so the way I would have imagined it if I dared to imagine having sex with John. It was the most wonderful time of my life. I had wanted to let go with him for a long time, and we let go.”
“I bet you did.”
“Would you not!”
“I’m just trying to be a friend.”
“But when I woke up this morning it was different.”
“It was real.”
Jackie, quiet, squinted her eyes in scrutiny of that and then nodded and said, “Yeah. It was real, and I couldn’t believe what I had done. I couldn’t face it. I still can’t face it. I mean, I really care about John, but... I... I wish now that it hadn’t have happened.”
“Well does Patricia know?”
Jackie nodded.
“What did she say?”
“Not much. After I told her and was about to start talking, John came back in the house.”
“And?”
“And then I ran away.”
Felice cocked her head at her friend in disbelief.
“You mean to tell me you’ve spent all Christmas morning running from this man?”
Jackie didn’t answer.
“Jackie! Jaclyn!”
“I was....” Jackie played with her hands, “afraid.”
Felice was quiet a while. Finally she spoke.
“Jaclyn, you never fu—you never had sex with Chip did you?” Felice said.
“No,” Jackie shook her head. “That was one of the things he complained about.”
“Oh my God,” Felice shook her own head. “This is one hell of a Christmas Present.”
“Did you stay for Mass?” Russell asked John when he was getting into the passenger side of the truck.
“No,” John murmured sullenly. “I just... drove around. You wanna drive around?”
Russell could not explain how he did not really want to drive around with John and yet felt he had to. He didn’t want to feel the pain John was feeling, but he didn’t want John to feel it alone.
“Yeah.” he said.
They drove through town, beyond Westhaven and the mall, south of Keyworthy and then south altogether until they were around Lake Chicktaw and the whole time John didn’t talk. This reminded him of the time Thom had driven him to Lake Chicktaw.
“Let’s switch seats,” John said.
“I haven’t done this in a while,” Russell told his uncle as they did switch. John’s seat felt hot to Russell.
“Don’t worry,” said John.
Here, the world was all black branches and whiteness. In December it was hard to believe in greenery. Back in town the black road rose out of grey slush.
“Not that way Russell. To the right. To the right. Did you hear me? Ease up on the gas. Don’t be a lead foot.”
“Do you want to do this yourself?” Russell invited after about ten minutes of this, his heart palpitating, his palms wet. He didn’t want to do this anyway. He had no business driving on Arlan Avenue.
John didn’t answer. Not until Russell screwed up again.
“God, Russell, you’re almost sixteen. You’ll never get a license like this. No. No, you shit. God you’re stupid.”
Russell braked the car. It screeched on Bunting Street. “You take the wheel.”
“No. You take it. I told you to drive.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Drive!”
Russell stared down at John in wonder, “What the fuck is your problem?” he demanded.
John hauled off and hit Russell in the face.
Russell stared at John, and then John stared at his hand, and then Russell opened the car door and climbed out. The light was still red. He backed onto the corner of Bunting and then just started walking. He knew when the light was green John would turn and look for him, so he headed down the alley between the bank and the car port, with the cones up that no one could drive through and no one would try to. In the middle of this alley the buildings made a strange courtyard of gravel and other little snowbound alleys reached out to the streets. Russell could take any one. John would never be able to find him.
It was about noon when the family at 1735 Breckinridge heard the Cherokee screech to a halt. The front door flew open and John charged in.
“When Russell came back we asked him where you were?” Patti said.
John looked at his sister and then he looked at Thom’s sister. Jaclyn was standing there looking terrified.
“Daddy, Daddy!” the kids were running around John in circles.
“I will deal with you later,” John told Jaclyn and charged up the stairs to Russell’s door banging on it.
“Open up the door! Open—”
“John!”
John stopped and turned around to see Thom with a hand out.
“What’s going on? That’s my boy, you’re harrasin’,” Thom spoke gently. He didn’t even realize he’d dropped his g.
John, slack mouth, fist unclenching, realized this. Thom sucked in his breath. There wasn’t much difference between the thirty year old and the fourteen year old boy he’d met all those years ago.
“John,” he said gently, “I know what happened.” Thom tapped on the door, “Son, do you think we could all talk? Son? Russell, what’s wrong?”
Suddenly they heard sobbing on the other side of the door. Russell had inherited his calm from his father. Thom did not remember ever seeing Russell weep, though once he himself had shed tears in front of his son. John had never seen it. Both of the men listened to the boy crying on the other side of the door. It wasn’t right. Especially on Christmas.
“Russell,” John’s voice was quiet now. “Russell, I’m sorry. Please open the door.”
They heard the bolt slide back into the door, then it opened and Russell stood before them.
“Oh, my God,” Thom muttered.
John shook his head and sucked in his breath.
His pants and shirt rumpled, Russell stood before them. His eyes were red rimmed and his face was wet and sticky. In his right hand he held a pair of garden scissors, and in the other was his red hair.
“Oh, my God!” exclaimed Patti, letting the wooden paddle sink into the yellow batter as John and Thom came into the kitchen with Russell.
Jackie stood up so amazed that she forgot her fear of John and now Kristin and Reese and Kathleen were coming into the kitchen.
“Russell, what happened?” Kathleen demanded, her British accent wavering.
Russell opened his mouth and closed it.
“We need someone to fix this.” Patti said.
“Mickey cuts hair,” Jackie suggested.
“On Christmas.?” Patti turned to her sister-in-law.
“Unless you want to look like this all day,” Jackie said to Russell.
Russell, dumb, shook his head.
Sharon, Graham, Chayne, Felice, Mickey, LaVelle, Pethane and Janna’s heads formed a circle looking into the cradle.
“He’s got my nose, don’t he?” said Pethane’s brother. “Looks like my spitting image don’t he?”
Pethane didn’t answer. It was Felice who spoke.
“The baby is white.”
“It’s light skinned.”
“Yes,” Chayne murmured. “Because it’s white.”
“Come on, yawl,” Tory said, “Beth said I was the Daddy. Why would she lie?”
Pethane suggested, “Because she’s a ho?”
Tory looked at his sister.
“Well...” said Janna. “She is.”
There was a knock at the door, and as Chayne went to answer it, Tory said, “Yawl just jealous.”
“Yeah,” remarked Chayne. “I wish I had a white son too,” and so saying, he opened the door to see Russell, standing there hairless, flanked by father and uncle.
“Not a word,” Chayne said to Mickey, and then to Russell, “What the hell did you do to yourself?”
“I don’t know,” Russell said in a low voice.
“Can you fix it?” Jackie asked since neither Thom nor John knew Mickey.
“I didn’t bring anything, but me and Chayne can run over to my house and pick up clippers.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do this on Christmas—” started Thom.
“Com on, Chayne,” Mickey had already headed for his coat.
MORE TOMORROW
Sharon Kandzierski answered the door.
Noting the confused look on Jaclyn Lewis’s face, Sharon tilted her head and said, “Jaclyn, are you alrright?”
“Is Felice here?”
“We’re all here. I think Felice is in the kitchen.”
No one in the living room acknowledged the white woman, except that Edmund Prince looked up for a second to wonder who she was. In the kitchen, Chayne and Felice were sitting at the table swapping stories with Pethane and Jean, and Mickey was leaning against the refrigerator
“Merry Christmas, Jackie,” said Chayne, a question in his voice.
Felice asked the question after introducing Jackie to Pethane and Jean.
“Can you talk for a second?”
Felice’s wide eyes looked around for a second. She took Jackie by the elbow.
“We can go to Sharon’s room.”
“You can stay right here,” said Chayne. “I need to get over to the church anyway. Come on, family, clear out.”
When they were gone, Jackie held out her hand and said, “Give me a cigarette,” and then they moved to the table and sat down.
“Last night, after Mass—”
“Wasn’t it beautiful?” Felice remarked in her deep voice.
“Yes it was,” Jackie skipped over that, lighting her Newport.
“John was being all romantic, and he wanted us to sneak off to my apartment. I said no. We went back to Thom and Patti’s. You know, with the family. Then we went walking, had a snow ball fight. Went back to my place, talked a lot, drank cider—and liquor and started to kiss. And it felt so good. I think John’s only kissed me once, and it was... before Russell was born. It just felt so good. This man I’ve wanted for over half my life. And we thought we should stop, but I didn’t want to... You know? I just wanted to throw caution to the wind—”
“Oh, my God,” Felice barked, clasping her hands together in joy. “You fucked him!”
Jackie’s mouth flew open and then she gave her friend a withering glance.
“I—we made... love.”
“Call it what you will, why are you here all crazy and distressed?”
“Oh my God,” Jackie took a final drag off the cigarette. “It was so—good! It was so the way I would have imagined it if I dared to imagine having sex with John. It was the most wonderful time of my life. I had wanted to let go with him for a long time, and we let go.”
“I bet you did.”
“Would you not!”
“I’m just trying to be a friend.”
“But when I woke up this morning it was different.”
“It was real.”
Jackie, quiet, squinted her eyes in scrutiny of that and then nodded and said, “Yeah. It was real, and I couldn’t believe what I had done. I couldn’t face it. I still can’t face it. I mean, I really care about John, but... I... I wish now that it hadn’t have happened.”
“Well does Patricia know?”
Jackie nodded.
“What did she say?”
“Not much. After I told her and was about to start talking, John came back in the house.”
“And?”
“And then I ran away.”
Felice cocked her head at her friend in disbelief.
“You mean to tell me you’ve spent all Christmas morning running from this man?”
Jackie didn’t answer.
“Jackie! Jaclyn!”
“I was....” Jackie played with her hands, “afraid.”
Felice was quiet a while. Finally she spoke.
“Jaclyn, you never fu—you never had sex with Chip did you?” Felice said.
“No,” Jackie shook her head. “That was one of the things he complained about.”
“Oh my God,” Felice shook her own head. “This is one hell of a Christmas Present.”
“Did you stay for Mass?” Russell asked John when he was getting into the passenger side of the truck.
“No,” John murmured sullenly. “I just... drove around. You wanna drive around?”
Russell could not explain how he did not really want to drive around with John and yet felt he had to. He didn’t want to feel the pain John was feeling, but he didn’t want John to feel it alone.
“Yeah.” he said.
They drove through town, beyond Westhaven and the mall, south of Keyworthy and then south altogether until they were around Lake Chicktaw and the whole time John didn’t talk. This reminded him of the time Thom had driven him to Lake Chicktaw.
“Let’s switch seats,” John said.
“I haven’t done this in a while,” Russell told his uncle as they did switch. John’s seat felt hot to Russell.
“Don’t worry,” said John.
Here, the world was all black branches and whiteness. In December it was hard to believe in greenery. Back in town the black road rose out of grey slush.
“Not that way Russell. To the right. To the right. Did you hear me? Ease up on the gas. Don’t be a lead foot.”
“Do you want to do this yourself?” Russell invited after about ten minutes of this, his heart palpitating, his palms wet. He didn’t want to do this anyway. He had no business driving on Arlan Avenue.
John didn’t answer. Not until Russell screwed up again.
“God, Russell, you’re almost sixteen. You’ll never get a license like this. No. No, you shit. God you’re stupid.”
Russell braked the car. It screeched on Bunting Street. “You take the wheel.”
“No. You take it. I told you to drive.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Drive!”
Russell stared down at John in wonder, “What the fuck is your problem?” he demanded.
John hauled off and hit Russell in the face.
Russell stared at John, and then John stared at his hand, and then Russell opened the car door and climbed out. The light was still red. He backed onto the corner of Bunting and then just started walking. He knew when the light was green John would turn and look for him, so he headed down the alley between the bank and the car port, with the cones up that no one could drive through and no one would try to. In the middle of this alley the buildings made a strange courtyard of gravel and other little snowbound alleys reached out to the streets. Russell could take any one. John would never be able to find him.
It was about noon when the family at 1735 Breckinridge heard the Cherokee screech to a halt. The front door flew open and John charged in.
“When Russell came back we asked him where you were?” Patti said.
John looked at his sister and then he looked at Thom’s sister. Jaclyn was standing there looking terrified.
“Daddy, Daddy!” the kids were running around John in circles.
“I will deal with you later,” John told Jaclyn and charged up the stairs to Russell’s door banging on it.
“Open up the door! Open—”
“John!”
John stopped and turned around to see Thom with a hand out.
“What’s going on? That’s my boy, you’re harrasin’,” Thom spoke gently. He didn’t even realize he’d dropped his g.
John, slack mouth, fist unclenching, realized this. Thom sucked in his breath. There wasn’t much difference between the thirty year old and the fourteen year old boy he’d met all those years ago.
“John,” he said gently, “I know what happened.” Thom tapped on the door, “Son, do you think we could all talk? Son? Russell, what’s wrong?”
Suddenly they heard sobbing on the other side of the door. Russell had inherited his calm from his father. Thom did not remember ever seeing Russell weep, though once he himself had shed tears in front of his son. John had never seen it. Both of the men listened to the boy crying on the other side of the door. It wasn’t right. Especially on Christmas.
“Russell,” John’s voice was quiet now. “Russell, I’m sorry. Please open the door.”
They heard the bolt slide back into the door, then it opened and Russell stood before them.
“Oh, my God,” Thom muttered.
John shook his head and sucked in his breath.
His pants and shirt rumpled, Russell stood before them. His eyes were red rimmed and his face was wet and sticky. In his right hand he held a pair of garden scissors, and in the other was his red hair.
“Oh, my God!” exclaimed Patti, letting the wooden paddle sink into the yellow batter as John and Thom came into the kitchen with Russell.
Jackie stood up so amazed that she forgot her fear of John and now Kristin and Reese and Kathleen were coming into the kitchen.
“Russell, what happened?” Kathleen demanded, her British accent wavering.
Russell opened his mouth and closed it.
“We need someone to fix this.” Patti said.
“Mickey cuts hair,” Jackie suggested.
“On Christmas.?” Patti turned to her sister-in-law.
“Unless you want to look like this all day,” Jackie said to Russell.
Russell, dumb, shook his head.
Sharon, Graham, Chayne, Felice, Mickey, LaVelle, Pethane and Janna’s heads formed a circle looking into the cradle.
“He’s got my nose, don’t he?” said Pethane’s brother. “Looks like my spitting image don’t he?”
Pethane didn’t answer. It was Felice who spoke.
“The baby is white.”
“It’s light skinned.”
“Yes,” Chayne murmured. “Because it’s white.”
“Come on, yawl,” Tory said, “Beth said I was the Daddy. Why would she lie?”
Pethane suggested, “Because she’s a ho?”
Tory looked at his sister.
“Well...” said Janna. “She is.”
There was a knock at the door, and as Chayne went to answer it, Tory said, “Yawl just jealous.”
“Yeah,” remarked Chayne. “I wish I had a white son too,” and so saying, he opened the door to see Russell, standing there hairless, flanked by father and uncle.
“Not a word,” Chayne said to Mickey, and then to Russell, “What the hell did you do to yourself?”
“I don’t know,” Russell said in a low voice.
“Can you fix it?” Jackie asked since neither Thom nor John knew Mickey.
“I didn’t bring anything, but me and Chayne can run over to my house and pick up clippers.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do this on Christmas—” started Thom.
“Com on, Chayne,” Mickey had already headed for his coat.
MORE TOMORROW
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
Poor Russell! Getting hit on Christmas is not good and he definitely did not deserve it. I hope John can sort things out with himself and with Jackie. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Sharon Kandzierski had been smiling so fiercely to herself that day, that Graham said, “What the hell is that? Some kind of love letter?”
Folding it to her chest and then placing it in her pocket, Graham’s wife said, “Maybe it is, Old Man. Maybe it is.”
Printed on expensive stationary in neat handwriting she had read:
Dear Sharon,
I hope I can call you dear, and you won’t get offended. If your husband gets offended, good, because he should know there’s competition out there, and you’re still a foxy lady. I’ve been half way around Europe and I still haven’t found a woman like you.
Speaking of finding, I hope this letter is finding you well on this Christmas Day. I hope you don’t think it strange that I wrote you, but it just seemed natural that you would be the one I wrote. If you hadn’t spoke to me that night, I wouldn’t be here. No one really cared enough to give me good advice or at least that’s what it seems. And I didn’t really even care about myself. So thank you.
I’ve just seen Paris. I bought a bunch of James Baldwin books and started reading them while I was here. The strange thing is that I have to admit I don’t really like it. I thought I would get a little culture and this place is definitely dirtier than Chicago (there’s urine all over the walls and dog crap in the streets) the plumbing is bad too, the water’s undrinkable. I liked Germany better, but there the people never washed and they thought I was strange because I wanted to all the time.
So on Mom and Dad’s money I’ll be heading to England pretty soon and I keep on thinking I’ll run into King Arthur or something, maybe hang out with knights. But I know there are no knights in England and no Camelot, just bad food. you probably can’t drink the water there, either.
In a way I am having the time of my life, but I’ve never had the time of my life before. You woke me up. I’ve never really been awake before and it’s scary. The world’s so big. there’s so much in it and I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know where to go in it. I don’t really know what will make me happy. Where I’ll settle down. I thought I was just looking for a get away but now I know I’m sort of looking for a home, and I’m not exactly sure where I’m going to find it.
If I don’t stop, this letter will get depressing, and I don’t want to sound depressing because for the first time I’m really really happy. I know that sounds strange because everything I said was pretty blah, because sometimes I feel sad, but at least I feel now. At least I’m alive now.
A Merry Christmas to you and all of your family,
Robert Keyes
Sharon smiled, folded the letter, unfolded it and smiled again.
In Graham and Sharon’s kitchen, Mickey attempted to repair Russell’s hair.
“Of course, it’s harder the less hair you have,” said Mickey. Well, this is what I can do. It’s not bad? Do you like it?”
“How do you like it?” Russell looked up and asked Chayne, who was leaning against the counter and repressing all questions.
“It looks decent. You look... like a normal white boy, I suppose.”
Jackie handed Russell her compact and he looked dismally at himself.
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re right.”
Handing the compact back, Russell looked at Chayne again.
“Would you like to talk about this?” Chayne asked the boy.
“Yes,” said Russell, “but not right now.”
Chayne nodded.
Thom knocked on the door, and when Russell said come in, he did.
“What happened?” Thom asked his son, leaning against the door, folding his arms over his chest.
“I don’t know,” Russell shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. No one is reliable. Everyone is acting crazy. Nothing is making any sense, and it should on Christmas. I don’t get what’s going on. I don’t get people. I don’t trust anybody anymore. And so I got mad, and I thought I’d change too, do something radical. Only, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Russell ran his hands over his shorn head. Now he and Thom had the same haircut. He looked very different now. Thom was sad because though he thought Russell could have used a trim, he now realized he’d liked the hair.
“I... I wanted to do something radical too. I wanted to be unreliable... and shocking.”
“Is it about John... and Jackie?”
Russell shook his head. “It’s about the way he was acting this morning. He was so mean. It wasn’t like him.”
“Grown ups can do things by accident.”
“By assholes?”
“Uh… yeah. And whatever John did, he was hurt.”
“Well do you all have to hurt me in the process?”
“Sometimes. When we don’t know what else to do... It’s like you can’t help yourself. I know that’s not an excuse—”
“I told you I hated you because I was hurt,” Russell told his father. “I just wanted to say something to hurt you back, to make you know that... To wake you up. I didn’t think it would because—because I didn’t really know you had feelings. You never show them. You seem a lot stronger than… than you actually are.”
“Never say you didn’t inherit anything from your Old Man,”
Russell looked at his father, shocked.
“I’m not strong!”
Thom held his son. He kissed the boy’s head. He had to sort of bend Russell over to do it since he and his son were the same height now.
“You’re stronger than you think,” Thom said. “But not as strong as we often mistake you for.”
“I,” Russell’s voice started out weak, but suddenly he punched a pillow. “I need to know I can rely on someone! I need to know that someone’s not going to—ruin everything. Be stupid!”
Suddenly Thom said, “I’m sorry you saw me with Liz.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Russell’s voice quieted.
“Yes,” Thom nodded. “I think it is, whether you admit it or not. I’m so sorry you saw that.”
“Have you... told Mom?”
Thom shook his head.
“Do you want me to?” Thom asked. He looked at a loss. For once Russell was shocked because his father’s eyes revealed something. They were begging. He’d do it because he loved Russell, but he was begging Russell to say no.
“I don’t know what good that would do,” Russell said, and he saw the breath let out of Thom’s lungs, his shoulders fall slightly with relief. “It would just hurt her for no reason.”
“Can I tell you something, Russell?”
Russell nodded.
“I was about to say that I never meant to hurt you, and that’s true. But the one thing that’s hard to admit is that what I did... when I did it... I don’t know if you’re at that age or not when you get lonely. I don’t mean lonely as in, you don’t have friends. I mean really, horribly lonely where you need to be touched. Or think you do. It’s horrible. That’s part of what happened. But the other part is that I did want to hurt your mom. I wanted to get back at her, so I had an affair. I’ve tried to deny it, but it’s true, and as a result, you were the one I caused pain.”
“And yourself,” said Russell. “And her. Liz.” Russell sounded tired.
“I guess... you’re human.”
“Well then let John be human too.”
“Is that what being human means, screwing up? Because if that’s what it means, I don’t want any part in it.”
“It means—partly—acknowledging that you’ve screwed up. It means,” said Thom, “being able to admit the times when you failed to be human.”
John came into the library where Jackie was sitting in the bay window. She looked up at him, and leaned against the doorsill.
“Jackie, we need to talk.”
“I know,” she said, at last.
“Can I—” John gestured to the window seat. “Sit down?”
Jackie nodded and patted the seat. John sat down. They were quiet for a while. Finally John cried, “Jackie, what happened? Wasn’t it—I thought you liked it. I was happy last night. I’ve been waiting for that... for years. And then I wake up and you’re gone! You—you let me in. That was great. I let myself go. I haven’t been with anyone since Kim, and then I’m with you, and I wake up and you’re not there. You’re nowhere around. Every time I come near you run away. What did I do?”
He reached out to touch her, and she jerked a little back.
“What did I do?” he asked, bewildered. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No.”
` “Was I... was I wrong about last night. Was it just me?”
“I was—” Jackie put her hand to her head. “I was just afraid, John.”
“Why—” he reached out again. “Why won’t you let me touch you? Are you afraid that if I touch you we’ll end up having sex again?” John sounded incredulous.
Jackie looked up at him, coming to a realization.
“Yes, a little bit. We’ve been friends for so long, John. And now... I look at your eyes and I can remember kissing them. I—I look at your hair and I think of how soft it is, or how soft your lips are or what your hands feel like on me. Or I look at you in the jeans and sweater and for years that’s all I’ve seen but now I know what’s under them, what it feels like. It… You woke me up, John, and that terrifies me a little, because I haven’t known you like that before.”
John dared to come a little closer. “Jaclyn, I thought you hated me.”
Jackie shook her head.
“I thought... I thought you... used me. I kind of thought how I let my guard down and, look, what happened.”
“It’s just,” Jackie told him, “that I miss when we were... friends.”
“Aren’t we still... friends?”
“Not the way we were before.”
“Jaclyn, what’s wrong with that? I want to be with you. If you’re brave enough to try to be with me.”
He put his hand out to Jackie.
“I don’t know if this will help you... but I’m afraid too. But I’m willing.”
John put his hand out, and Jackie looked at him for a moment before taking it.
Thom was sitting at the head of the table, his wife beside him, the food laid out before him, family all around. For a brief moment the question of what Chase actually did with his mother, and just what his mother could possibly do for Chase flickered in his mind, and then he crushed it.
“Thomas, would you like to ask the blessing?” said Sara.
Thom nodded and cleared his throat. He would like to very much indeed, but he didn’t know how to. How do you ask a blessing? How do you give thanks?
“Everybody...” Thom started, “hold hands.”
He put his hands out. Patti took one, Russell took the other. Thom bowed his head and closed his eyes. He could smell, in the darkness of his closed eyes, turkey, stuffing, the puddings, the macaroni, even the wine, warm enough to give off an odor. And he could feel, even on this winter day, the western sun coming through the large dining room window to warm his back.
“Thank you, Lord, for bringing us all together, and making us happy more or less. Forgive us for the times... when we... made it difficult. We blame you so much, but I think it’s us that tear us apart and do stupid things and hurt each other. And yet today, you bring us all back here again, around this table. Stay with us, Lord and... Keep us all together, and thank you for this Christmas Day. Amen.”
“Amen,” the family chorused back, and Patti was the last to release his hand, squeezing it and saying, “That was beautiful.”
MORE TOMORROW
Folding it to her chest and then placing it in her pocket, Graham’s wife said, “Maybe it is, Old Man. Maybe it is.”
Printed on expensive stationary in neat handwriting she had read:
Dear Sharon,
I hope I can call you dear, and you won’t get offended. If your husband gets offended, good, because he should know there’s competition out there, and you’re still a foxy lady. I’ve been half way around Europe and I still haven’t found a woman like you.
Speaking of finding, I hope this letter is finding you well on this Christmas Day. I hope you don’t think it strange that I wrote you, but it just seemed natural that you would be the one I wrote. If you hadn’t spoke to me that night, I wouldn’t be here. No one really cared enough to give me good advice or at least that’s what it seems. And I didn’t really even care about myself. So thank you.
I’ve just seen Paris. I bought a bunch of James Baldwin books and started reading them while I was here. The strange thing is that I have to admit I don’t really like it. I thought I would get a little culture and this place is definitely dirtier than Chicago (there’s urine all over the walls and dog crap in the streets) the plumbing is bad too, the water’s undrinkable. I liked Germany better, but there the people never washed and they thought I was strange because I wanted to all the time.
So on Mom and Dad’s money I’ll be heading to England pretty soon and I keep on thinking I’ll run into King Arthur or something, maybe hang out with knights. But I know there are no knights in England and no Camelot, just bad food. you probably can’t drink the water there, either.
In a way I am having the time of my life, but I’ve never had the time of my life before. You woke me up. I’ve never really been awake before and it’s scary. The world’s so big. there’s so much in it and I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know where to go in it. I don’t really know what will make me happy. Where I’ll settle down. I thought I was just looking for a get away but now I know I’m sort of looking for a home, and I’m not exactly sure where I’m going to find it.
If I don’t stop, this letter will get depressing, and I don’t want to sound depressing because for the first time I’m really really happy. I know that sounds strange because everything I said was pretty blah, because sometimes I feel sad, but at least I feel now. At least I’m alive now.
A Merry Christmas to you and all of your family,
Robert Keyes
Sharon smiled, folded the letter, unfolded it and smiled again.
In Graham and Sharon’s kitchen, Mickey attempted to repair Russell’s hair.
“Of course, it’s harder the less hair you have,” said Mickey. Well, this is what I can do. It’s not bad? Do you like it?”
“How do you like it?” Russell looked up and asked Chayne, who was leaning against the counter and repressing all questions.
“It looks decent. You look... like a normal white boy, I suppose.”
Jackie handed Russell her compact and he looked dismally at himself.
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re right.”
Handing the compact back, Russell looked at Chayne again.
“Would you like to talk about this?” Chayne asked the boy.
“Yes,” said Russell, “but not right now.”
Chayne nodded.
Thom knocked on the door, and when Russell said come in, he did.
“What happened?” Thom asked his son, leaning against the door, folding his arms over his chest.
“I don’t know,” Russell shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. No one is reliable. Everyone is acting crazy. Nothing is making any sense, and it should on Christmas. I don’t get what’s going on. I don’t get people. I don’t trust anybody anymore. And so I got mad, and I thought I’d change too, do something radical. Only, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Russell ran his hands over his shorn head. Now he and Thom had the same haircut. He looked very different now. Thom was sad because though he thought Russell could have used a trim, he now realized he’d liked the hair.
“I... I wanted to do something radical too. I wanted to be unreliable... and shocking.”
“Is it about John... and Jackie?”
Russell shook his head. “It’s about the way he was acting this morning. He was so mean. It wasn’t like him.”
“Grown ups can do things by accident.”
“By assholes?”
“Uh… yeah. And whatever John did, he was hurt.”
“Well do you all have to hurt me in the process?”
“Sometimes. When we don’t know what else to do... It’s like you can’t help yourself. I know that’s not an excuse—”
“I told you I hated you because I was hurt,” Russell told his father. “I just wanted to say something to hurt you back, to make you know that... To wake you up. I didn’t think it would because—because I didn’t really know you had feelings. You never show them. You seem a lot stronger than… than you actually are.”
“Never say you didn’t inherit anything from your Old Man,”
Russell looked at his father, shocked.
“I’m not strong!”
Thom held his son. He kissed the boy’s head. He had to sort of bend Russell over to do it since he and his son were the same height now.
“You’re stronger than you think,” Thom said. “But not as strong as we often mistake you for.”
“I,” Russell’s voice started out weak, but suddenly he punched a pillow. “I need to know I can rely on someone! I need to know that someone’s not going to—ruin everything. Be stupid!”
Suddenly Thom said, “I’m sorry you saw me with Liz.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Russell’s voice quieted.
“Yes,” Thom nodded. “I think it is, whether you admit it or not. I’m so sorry you saw that.”
“Have you... told Mom?”
Thom shook his head.
“Do you want me to?” Thom asked. He looked at a loss. For once Russell was shocked because his father’s eyes revealed something. They were begging. He’d do it because he loved Russell, but he was begging Russell to say no.
“I don’t know what good that would do,” Russell said, and he saw the breath let out of Thom’s lungs, his shoulders fall slightly with relief. “It would just hurt her for no reason.”
“Can I tell you something, Russell?”
Russell nodded.
“I was about to say that I never meant to hurt you, and that’s true. But the one thing that’s hard to admit is that what I did... when I did it... I don’t know if you’re at that age or not when you get lonely. I don’t mean lonely as in, you don’t have friends. I mean really, horribly lonely where you need to be touched. Or think you do. It’s horrible. That’s part of what happened. But the other part is that I did want to hurt your mom. I wanted to get back at her, so I had an affair. I’ve tried to deny it, but it’s true, and as a result, you were the one I caused pain.”
“And yourself,” said Russell. “And her. Liz.” Russell sounded tired.
“I guess... you’re human.”
“Well then let John be human too.”
“Is that what being human means, screwing up? Because if that’s what it means, I don’t want any part in it.”
“It means—partly—acknowledging that you’ve screwed up. It means,” said Thom, “being able to admit the times when you failed to be human.”
John came into the library where Jackie was sitting in the bay window. She looked up at him, and leaned against the doorsill.
“Jackie, we need to talk.”
“I know,” she said, at last.
“Can I—” John gestured to the window seat. “Sit down?”
Jackie nodded and patted the seat. John sat down. They were quiet for a while. Finally John cried, “Jackie, what happened? Wasn’t it—I thought you liked it. I was happy last night. I’ve been waiting for that... for years. And then I wake up and you’re gone! You—you let me in. That was great. I let myself go. I haven’t been with anyone since Kim, and then I’m with you, and I wake up and you’re not there. You’re nowhere around. Every time I come near you run away. What did I do?”
He reached out to touch her, and she jerked a little back.
“What did I do?” he asked, bewildered. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No.”
` “Was I... was I wrong about last night. Was it just me?”
“I was—” Jackie put her hand to her head. “I was just afraid, John.”
“Why—” he reached out again. “Why won’t you let me touch you? Are you afraid that if I touch you we’ll end up having sex again?” John sounded incredulous.
Jackie looked up at him, coming to a realization.
“Yes, a little bit. We’ve been friends for so long, John. And now... I look at your eyes and I can remember kissing them. I—I look at your hair and I think of how soft it is, or how soft your lips are or what your hands feel like on me. Or I look at you in the jeans and sweater and for years that’s all I’ve seen but now I know what’s under them, what it feels like. It… You woke me up, John, and that terrifies me a little, because I haven’t known you like that before.”
John dared to come a little closer. “Jaclyn, I thought you hated me.”
Jackie shook her head.
“I thought... I thought you... used me. I kind of thought how I let my guard down and, look, what happened.”
“It’s just,” Jackie told him, “that I miss when we were... friends.”
“Aren’t we still... friends?”
“Not the way we were before.”
“Jaclyn, what’s wrong with that? I want to be with you. If you’re brave enough to try to be with me.”
He put his hand out to Jackie.
“I don’t know if this will help you... but I’m afraid too. But I’m willing.”
John put his hand out, and Jackie looked at him for a moment before taking it.
Thom was sitting at the head of the table, his wife beside him, the food laid out before him, family all around. For a brief moment the question of what Chase actually did with his mother, and just what his mother could possibly do for Chase flickered in his mind, and then he crushed it.
“Thomas, would you like to ask the blessing?” said Sara.
Thom nodded and cleared his throat. He would like to very much indeed, but he didn’t know how to. How do you ask a blessing? How do you give thanks?
“Everybody...” Thom started, “hold hands.”
He put his hands out. Patti took one, Russell took the other. Thom bowed his head and closed his eyes. He could smell, in the darkness of his closed eyes, turkey, stuffing, the puddings, the macaroni, even the wine, warm enough to give off an odor. And he could feel, even on this winter day, the western sun coming through the large dining room window to warm his back.
“Thank you, Lord, for bringing us all together, and making us happy more or less. Forgive us for the times... when we... made it difficult. We blame you so much, but I think it’s us that tear us apart and do stupid things and hurt each other. And yet today, you bring us all back here again, around this table. Stay with us, Lord and... Keep us all together, and thank you for this Christmas Day. Amen.”
“Amen,” the family chorused back, and Patti was the last to release his hand, squeezing it and saying, “That was beautiful.”
MORE TOMORROW
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a great portion! I am glad Russell and Thom finally had a real talk. I think it was needed. I am also glad Jackie and John talked. Excellent writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
AND NOW THE CONCLUSION OF CHRISTMAS
Around the large table they all linked hands. Mickey, LaVelle, Gilead, Shonda, Derrell. Nehru Alexander was there with his father Corey and his mother—whom Edmund Prince acknowledged as “white but accepted all the same”. Curtis Brown was present, though usually with his nose in a book. There was Pethane, Janna, Laura, Graham, Sharon, and Chayne. Sharon’s cousin Sharonda was there with her son, Gilead and Graham had said Gilead could be elevated from the children’s table this year, but the truth was Gilead had refused to come if he had to sit with ten years olds another damned year. He had seen his school mte Russell, looking distressed, and thought better of troubling him. They all were at the table placed in the sun, in the insulated enclosed porch of the apartment where Graham and Sharon lived.
“Who will ask the blessing?” Mickey said and Sharon said, “Graham will, of course.”
“It’s no of course about it,” Mickey differed, but Graham began:
“Merciful Lord, we gather today on the birth of your son, and we thank you for bringing us all together as a family. Now, we have all had our differences, and some of us have made many mistakes, and through out the year we have known labors—”
“Amen!” cut in Pethane.
“Hardships.”
“Amen,”
“And set backs.”
“Preach.”
Edmund Prince raised an annoyed eyebrow and Chayne took in a deep breath.
“Now, Lord,” Graham continued, “as we sit here, looking at this feasts, at macaroni, at ham, at goose and gravy. At mashed potatoes, and sweet potatoes, at cheesecake—”
Gilead, half opening his eyes, reached a head of him, took a roll and began discreetly buttering it while his mother frowned.
“Watermelon, salad, delicious, delicious sweet potato casserole.”
Sharon cleared her throat and Graham grunted. Chayne was sure he’d heard his mother kick his father under the table.
“And we thank you for all this and—”
“AMEN!” Chayne said.
And while Graham looked at him witheringly, Chayne smiled at his father, but everyone else had already declared “Amen” and was digging in.
“Russell,” said John, “could you pass the mashed potatoes? Russell?”
Russell, not looking at John, pushed them forward.
“Russell,” said John
His nephew looked up at him.
"We need to talk."
"I thought we already did."
Thom overheard his son, and restrained the first thought to reprimand him. It was hard to be on the wrong side of Russell's tongue.
John was silent, dipped into the potatoes, passed them to the middle of the table and said, "Well, if you want to call it that."
Tommy, beside Russell, nudged his cousin and said, "What's wrong, Kuzzin Russell?"
“Yeah, what's wrong, Kuzzim!” Russ chipped in solicitously, adding. “Have some beans. Mama says—”
“That's enough of what Mama says,” John told his boys, lifting up a hand.
Patti looked around the table, not completely amazed that she had missed her until now. She turned to Thom.
“Honey,” she said. “Where's Denise?”
And everyone looked around the table, mystified.
“More ham?” Denise asked at the head of the table in the parish house, and held out the platter. “There’s lots more for firsts, seconds and thirds.”
Ann Ford, her boyfriend Diggs and her brother, Father Geoff, looked around the table at each other, mystified.
There was a tap on Russell's door, and then John gently pushed it open and came to sit by the boy.
“Russell, I’m sorry," he told him.
"Is that the best you can do?"
"That's the best any of us can do," John said.
"You hit me in the face."
"And I called you things I didn't mean. I was—"
"I know, you were hurting. Everyone's hurting. Join the club, Uncle John."
John put his hand gently over Russell's. Russell removed it. A frown came over his uncle's face and the older man asked him. "Do you really have the strength to be angry today? Today?"
It was a question Russell hadn't expected to be asked.
"I am tired of…" Russell ran his hands over his short hair. "I'm tired of everyone-doing stuff to me," he sounded, to himself, like a baby. "I'm tired of forgiving.
"No," he said suddenly. "I'm tired of all the stuff that makes me have to forgive. But I want to forgive. I want to. I want all the wrong stuff to be right, to be finished. It's Christmas. I want it all… I want it all to be peaceful."
On the radio, a woman’s quavering voice was singing:
It came upon the midnight clear
That glorious sooo-ong of old
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold
Peace on the earth
Good will to men
From hea-vens all gracious king
The world
In solemn still lay
To hear the aaaan-gells sing!
"Grandma Bridge used to say," said John. "That whenever someone didn't say the bad thing they could have said—which I didn't, or whenever a wrong was forgiven, when people could love again, then the angels were bending and playing their harps of—”
But John Mc.Larchlahn had been so lost in the beginning of a profound thought, that he had never seen the look on his nephew’s face, or the reddening on Russell’s skin, and he had never saw the boy wind back, like a boxer, so he was completely unready when Russell’s fist smashed into his face and knocked him across the floor.
Thom had heard the crash of John’s body and when he came up the stairs found his brother in law bent double on the ground holding his face while Russell sat on his bed scowling down at his uncle who, shook his head, put a hand to his eye and rocking his wounded face said:
“That’s fair.”
TOMORROW, THE BOOK OF THE BURNING
Around the large table they all linked hands. Mickey, LaVelle, Gilead, Shonda, Derrell. Nehru Alexander was there with his father Corey and his mother—whom Edmund Prince acknowledged as “white but accepted all the same”. Curtis Brown was present, though usually with his nose in a book. There was Pethane, Janna, Laura, Graham, Sharon, and Chayne. Sharon’s cousin Sharonda was there with her son, Gilead and Graham had said Gilead could be elevated from the children’s table this year, but the truth was Gilead had refused to come if he had to sit with ten years olds another damned year. He had seen his school mte Russell, looking distressed, and thought better of troubling him. They all were at the table placed in the sun, in the insulated enclosed porch of the apartment where Graham and Sharon lived.
“Who will ask the blessing?” Mickey said and Sharon said, “Graham will, of course.”
“It’s no of course about it,” Mickey differed, but Graham began:
“Merciful Lord, we gather today on the birth of your son, and we thank you for bringing us all together as a family. Now, we have all had our differences, and some of us have made many mistakes, and through out the year we have known labors—”
“Amen!” cut in Pethane.
“Hardships.”
“Amen,”
“And set backs.”
“Preach.”
Edmund Prince raised an annoyed eyebrow and Chayne took in a deep breath.
“Now, Lord,” Graham continued, “as we sit here, looking at this feasts, at macaroni, at ham, at goose and gravy. At mashed potatoes, and sweet potatoes, at cheesecake—”
Gilead, half opening his eyes, reached a head of him, took a roll and began discreetly buttering it while his mother frowned.
“Watermelon, salad, delicious, delicious sweet potato casserole.”
Sharon cleared her throat and Graham grunted. Chayne was sure he’d heard his mother kick his father under the table.
“And we thank you for all this and—”
“AMEN!” Chayne said.
And while Graham looked at him witheringly, Chayne smiled at his father, but everyone else had already declared “Amen” and was digging in.
“Russell,” said John, “could you pass the mashed potatoes? Russell?”
Russell, not looking at John, pushed them forward.
“Russell,” said John
His nephew looked up at him.
"We need to talk."
"I thought we already did."
Thom overheard his son, and restrained the first thought to reprimand him. It was hard to be on the wrong side of Russell's tongue.
John was silent, dipped into the potatoes, passed them to the middle of the table and said, "Well, if you want to call it that."
Tommy, beside Russell, nudged his cousin and said, "What's wrong, Kuzzin Russell?"
“Yeah, what's wrong, Kuzzim!” Russ chipped in solicitously, adding. “Have some beans. Mama says—”
“That's enough of what Mama says,” John told his boys, lifting up a hand.
Patti looked around the table, not completely amazed that she had missed her until now. She turned to Thom.
“Honey,” she said. “Where's Denise?”
And everyone looked around the table, mystified.
“More ham?” Denise asked at the head of the table in the parish house, and held out the platter. “There’s lots more for firsts, seconds and thirds.”
Ann Ford, her boyfriend Diggs and her brother, Father Geoff, looked around the table at each other, mystified.
There was a tap on Russell's door, and then John gently pushed it open and came to sit by the boy.
“Russell, I’m sorry," he told him.
"Is that the best you can do?"
"That's the best any of us can do," John said.
"You hit me in the face."
"And I called you things I didn't mean. I was—"
"I know, you were hurting. Everyone's hurting. Join the club, Uncle John."
John put his hand gently over Russell's. Russell removed it. A frown came over his uncle's face and the older man asked him. "Do you really have the strength to be angry today? Today?"
It was a question Russell hadn't expected to be asked.
"I am tired of…" Russell ran his hands over his short hair. "I'm tired of everyone-doing stuff to me," he sounded, to himself, like a baby. "I'm tired of forgiving.
"No," he said suddenly. "I'm tired of all the stuff that makes me have to forgive. But I want to forgive. I want to. I want all the wrong stuff to be right, to be finished. It's Christmas. I want it all… I want it all to be peaceful."
On the radio, a woman’s quavering voice was singing:
It came upon the midnight clear
That glorious sooo-ong of old
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold
Peace on the earth
Good will to men
From hea-vens all gracious king
The world
In solemn still lay
To hear the aaaan-gells sing!
"Grandma Bridge used to say," said John. "That whenever someone didn't say the bad thing they could have said—which I didn't, or whenever a wrong was forgiven, when people could love again, then the angels were bending and playing their harps of—”
But John Mc.Larchlahn had been so lost in the beginning of a profound thought, that he had never seen the look on his nephew’s face, or the reddening on Russell’s skin, and he had never saw the boy wind back, like a boxer, so he was completely unready when Russell’s fist smashed into his face and knocked him across the floor.
Thom had heard the crash of John’s body and when he came up the stairs found his brother in law bent double on the ground holding his face while Russell sat on his bed scowling down at his uncle who, shook his head, put a hand to his eye and rocking his wounded face said:
“That’s fair.”
TOMORROW, THE BOOK OF THE BURNING
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
Wow that was certainly a big ending to Christmas! I don’t know if what Russell did was right but I was kind of happy that John got back the same thing he did to Russell. Great writing and I look forward to Book Of The Burning tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Well, if you're not sure about Russell's choices here, just you wait for the future. Yes, Christmas did pack quite a punch, andI'm glad you enjoyed it.
