Another Christmas Homecoming
[NOTE:
The reference in the story regarding the takeover of GOOGLE is entirely
fictional
and shall not be construed in any way other than for literary effect.]
Welcome to my world. Come on in.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, to all you Readers, new and old, and to you, my fellow Authors. May this be the happiest and most bless-ed season of Peace and Good-will for each and every one of you.
Gather ‘round; get comfortable with a bowl of hot, buttery popcorn, a cup of hot chocolate, and whatever else you may deem necessary for an enjoyable story-reading time. But be sure not to drip any sticky, sweet chocolate on your keyboards, and be sure to wipe the salt and butter from your fingers before ‘seasoning’ your mouse balls to advance the screen.
There, now! We’re all ready to proceed. Anyone need a quick potty-break or a few sucks off the ol’ fag? Hey … YOU! Get your mind out of the gutter! That’s a ‘cigarette,’ for all you non-Brits!
Good! Alright! Let’s begin. Here we go. But before we do, I just want to say that Gerry wrote this story as a play-script in October of 2006. It was performed and videoed before a loving audience of one hundred twenty-some-odd souls in Prescott, Arizona, in December, that same year, and he recently finished revising (again!) the script into story form … just for you!
By the way … my name is Sam. I wasn’t present during the early part of our family’s Christmas Eve festivities that year, for reasons that you’ll discover later on. So … I’m recounting what was told to me AFTER the fact. But it was, indeed, ANOTHER CHRISTMAS HOMECOMING -- the first in many years for our little family.
In order to set the scene, let me begin by saying this -- John, my older brother, and Janet, his slightly rotund charming wife (whom I’ll refer to in the story as ‘Papa’ and ‘Mama’) had just entered the small but gaily decorated living-room of our two-story log cabin-style home in the foothills of North Carolina.
Artificial Poinsettias and Magnolia blossoms dotted the freshly cut pine boughs and golden garlands that were draped over the banister leading to the loft which over-looked the living-room below. In the roaring stone fireplace, cedar logs blazed bright, filling the house with a faint but delightful, aromatic fragrance.
The tree was decorated with a few new, and many old, baubles which brought back pleasant memories of Christmases past. Silvery strands of mylar-like icicles glistened and clung to the branches that held strings of old-fashioned bubbling candle-shaped lights. Garlands of strung popcorn wound ‘round the tree, as did other garlands of strung cranberries. More than a dozen beautifully wrapped packages lay scattered on the snowy-white blanket beneath, and my favorite nephew’s old Lionel train circled the gifts again and again. A new translucent Angel perched atop the tree, and, with its outstretched golden trumpet, seemed to herald the birth of the Child King.
A small, traditional crèche with Joseph, Mary, the baby Jesus, the three Magi with their gifts, and the shepherds with a few sheep were placed on the wooden mantel above the blazing fire.
The home was filled with the mouth-watering aromas of Christmas dinner, and John and Janet could, at last, relax a bit before the onslaught of their children and almost-grown grandchildren returning home for a long-overdue family reunion.
After looking ‘round to see if anything else needed to be done, John put an arm around Janet’s shoulder, pulled her close and said, “Well, Mama … everything really looks beautiful. You sure out-did yourself this year.”
“No, I didn’t, Papa. You know I couldn’t have done it without you – you were my ‘honey-do’ and my ‘go-fer’ like always,” she replied as he tenderly kissed her on the cheek.
“True, but it’s always been your ideas that turned out so festive and Christmassy. If I had to do it by myself, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“Oh, you would, too, Papa. Now, don’t be talkin’ like that; I’m gonna be around for a lot more years to come. It was fun and I’ve really enjoyed doing it this year. What with everyone coming home, I wanted to make it look like it did when the kids were little.” She moved away from her husband, stepped to the fireplace, and made a few minor changes in the placements of the shepherds near the crèche of the manger scene on the mantelpiece. “You know, this is the first time in twenty-six years that we’ve all been together again. The FIRST time, in all these years, Papa.”
“Yes, I know, Mama; I know. I just can’t wait to see the kids,” he exclaimed. “It’ll be so good to see them again.”
“Janice and Duncan, coming up from Cape Canaveral, down in Florida,” Mama added.
“And Joan and Tom, coming all the way from … what do they call it? … Silly Cone Valley, out in California? I don’t know why they call it that,” he pondered aloud, scratching his bald head. “I can’t find Silly Cone Valley on any of the maps.”
“Yes, you’re right, Papa, but it’s not ‘Silly Cone Valley;’ it’s ‘Silicon Valley’.” You see, I DO know a few things, contrary to what you think,” she said, grinning at him as he avoided her glance by looking straight ahead. “And Nancy’s coming down from Arlington, Virginia.”
“Yes; it’ll be good to see her again, too.”
Janet’s voice rose with enthusiasm, but it was tinged with a little sadness. “And Johnny’s coming home … finally! Oh, thank God, he’s safe. My prayers have been answered!” She signed herself with the Cross, kissed her fingertips, and ‘threw’ the kiss to the baby Jesus in the crèche.
By that time, John had seated himself in his opulently over-stuffed brown leather chair and crossed his ankles on the ottoman in front. “Have you heard anything from him, since that letter you got a couple weeks ago?”
“No, not a word,” she replied, sitting in her gold satin-upholstered rocking chair. “I’ve been a little concerned, not hearing anything else from him, but he’ll be here, I’m sure. I just KNOW he will! … He’s GOT to be here! Oh, I wish he’d call and let us know he’s on his way.” After a short pause of introspection, she blurted out with excitement, “Maybe he’ll fly into Washington and drive down with Nancy.”
“Now, now, don’t you fret, Mama. Yes, he’ll be here.” Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he continued. “But don’t you go gettin’ yourself upset if he’s not ABLE to be here. He’s got important things to do over there.”
“I know, but he PROMISED, Papa!” The worry and concern were clear in her voice.
“I know. I know. Now, let’s not think anything bad’s gonna happen, and just know that he’ll get home this year.”
“Okay, Papa; okay. I just miss my boy so much, and I’m so afraid for him.”
He just looked at her, knowing that the mother of their first-born would always worry when she didn’t KNOW, for sure, everything about their only son. Then, breathing deeply of the delicious scents wafting in from the kitchen, he closed his eyes, smiled, and moaned in delight, “Mmmmmmm. Ohhh, those aromas are wonderful. They sure bring back lots of good memories from all those years so long ago, darlin’.”
“DARlin’?” she asked, jerking her head in his direction. “DarLIN? John! You haven’t called me that since we were … uhhh …” She looked a little embarrassed. “… since we were … makin’ babies. What’s gotten into you?”
Playfully, he answered, “Just the holiday spirit … SWEETHEART …”
They both rose from their chairs at the same time, and as Janet crossed in front of the fireplace, headed toward the kitchen, John blocked her way, and continued with what he was saying, “… the spirit of … uhhh … GIVING…” he raised and wiggled his eyebrows, “… AND … receiving!”
She swatted him away and dodged his approach, and then, with more vigor, she exclaimed, “John! Act your age! I don’t believe you! You dirty ol’ man! What’d you do – go out and get some of that … uhhh … ungodly VIAGRA?” She disgustedly shook her head as she hurried around him to check the food on the stove.
He quickly kissed his fingertips and blew the kiss to her. She sloughed him away as the front door opened and Janice and Duncan entered.
“Mama! Papa!” Janice called from the small entry hall. “We’re here!”
“Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad,” Duncan called at the same time.
As she hugged her youngest daughter, Mama proclaimed, “Oh, Honey, it’s so good to see you. Com’ere; gimme a hug!”
After Duncan set a bag of presents in the big leather chair, the men shook hands as Papa said, “So glad you could make it, Duncan. Let me take your coat.”
“I’ve missed you, Mama,” Janice said, after kissing her, “… and you, too, Papa,” she said, walking toward him. They hugged and kissed each other’s cheek.
With one arm out of the sleeve of his coat, Duncan took Mama’s hands, leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek. “Hi, Mom. It’s been too long. Sorry we haven’t been able to get up here sooner.”
As the two ‘youngsters’ finished removing their heavy winter coats and hats, Papa asked Janice, “How’s my baby? You’re looking fantastic.”
Duncan was hanging his coat and hat on the clothes-tree in the corner of the living-room, as Mama took Janice’s, and then, looking back and forth at each, asked, “Papa and I’ve missed you. What’s it been? Three years?”
“Thanks, Papa,” Janice replied to her father’s compliment. “You haven’t aged a bit since we last saw you. You’re looking great!” He leaned in and kissed her on the tip of her nose.
“More like four, Mom,” Duncan answered Mama’s question. “But I got a week off from the Cape and don’t have to be back until the day after New Year’s,” he said, returning his attention to his in-laws after hanging up the coats and hats.
“That’s wonderful, Son,” Papa said, motioning toward the couch for the younger couple to sit. Janice sat in the middle, Duncan, at her right; the gals still holding hands, with mother adoringly looking at her youngest child.
John continued; “Maybe you can help this old man get some much needed work done around the outside of the house before the snow gets here.”
“Four whole years?” Mama repeated Duncan’s answer. “My word, how time flies! But how’d you get a whole week off from the Space Center?”
Duncan opened his mouth to answer, but it was Janice who blurted out, “Strange for this time of year, but we’ve got a tropical storm moving in, and it’s supposed to be a big one. The winds have been getting increasingly stronger for the last two days already.”
As long-time couples are so often prone to do, Papa and Mama remarked together, “Thank God, you got outta there in time.” They looked at each other and laughed. John rose from his chair, stepped toward his still beautiful, ‘young’ sweetheart, and they linked their pinkies and pumped their hands just once!
“You two haven’t changed at all,” Janice grinned with love for her parents, as she looked at Duncan and winked at him. “I just hope we can be as in love with each other as you two are, when we’re your ages.” They gave each other a quick little kiss.
Papa returned to his chair and moved the bag of presents onto the small coffee table in front of the fireplace. “Your house all boarded up?” he asked, sitting back in ‘his’ chair.
“Yeah,” Duncan answered. “I think the house’ll
be fine – at least we hope so. … The Shuttle that was scheduled for tomorrow was
scrubbed a couple of days ago when they saw Luna moving in ... that’s what
they’re calling the storm.
“And you wouldn’t believe…” Janice added, “…what we had to go through to get here today. The traffic was terrible coming up here.”
“I would have thought…” Mama offered, “…the traffic on Christmas Eve, of all days, would’ve been almost nothing.”
“Well, once we got out of Florida…” Duncan tried to answer, but Janice cut him off.
“… and away from the coastal traffic – everyone trying to get away from the hurricane, you know…”
Then Duncan cut HER off, “… yes … and then it was clear sailing.”
“No one’s sailing the Atlantic in this weather right now, Duncan,” his wife tried to correct his choice of words.
“I know, sweetheart. I just meant, ‘sailing along … flying … making good time on the interstate, but I…”
Then Janice cut HIM off again. “You KNOW I’m worried about Jimmy down there…”
With grandmotherly concern, Mama jumped in; “What’s wrong with Jimmy? My God! Has something happened to him? Where is he? Why didn’t you tell us?” Her questions sped forth in a flurry of worry.
“Oh, nothing’s wrong with him right now, Mama,” Janice consoled, “but I’m worried about him with Luna heading straight for the Cape. He’s a full veterinarian now with Sea World in Orlando…”
“Yes, I know that already,” Mama continued to steamroll ahead; “so, what’s happened?”
Janice continued with her response; “Well … he’d rather stay with his dear porpoises and whales, rather than come up here with us.”
Mama took a deep breath and gave a sigh of relief as Papa asked, “Isn’t Orlando … what? … about fifty miles inland? That should be safe enough.”
“Oh, is that all?” Mama asked, an expression of concern written all over her face, but then another thought came to mind and she instantly changed the subject. “Well, he always DID love his animals, it seemed, more than he liked people. But as long as he’s happy … and not getting into any kind of trouble … like SOME people I know…” she said after pausing, looking straight at Janice! “… let’s just wish him well, and hold good thoughts for him during the storm.”
“Yes, Dad,” Duncan jumped back into the conversation; “I’ve clocked it from home to Sea World, and it’s a little over fifty-five miles. The way that place is built, they’d have to have a category TEN hurricane to do any damage!” Then, to his worried wife, he added, “He’ll be safe, Janice, Honey.”
“Ohhh, I suppose so, Duncan, and I know you’re right, Mama, but I still wish he would’ve come with us,” she continued to fret.
“Now, Janice…” Duncan tried to comfort her, “you know he’s going to be all right, there. Jimmy says they’ve got safety features built-in everywhere. They knew they were in an area prone to hurricanes and severe storms when they built the place. Don’t worry yourself, so!”
She nodded silently.
Then, with a smile growing across his face, Duncan went on … “Ya know, if he keeps going the way he’s doing, he’ll probably end up being America’s version of Steve Irwin, the way he loves all those animals.” He was beaming with pride, as he must have been imagining Jimmy someday having his own nature show on TV.
But Janice must have tried to knock the wind out of his sails by slapping his shoulder and saying, “Don’t say things like that, Duncan! It was terrible, what happened to Steve, leaving his wife and little children that way! I don’t want something like that to happen to our Jimmy!”
Once again, he tried to console her. “Sweetheart, nothing like that’s gonna to happen to Jimmy, I promise you. He’s a grown man, now; he’s a professional in his own right, and he knows how to take care of himself. AND his animals. You’ll be very proud of him someday; I know you will.”
“I’m already proud of him, Duncan. I just wish he loved us, his HUMAN family, as much as he does those … those … THINGS! I just don’t understand him, sometimes. Knowing the storm was coming, why couldn’t he have gotten someone else to stand in for him, so he could be with US this Christmas? Why, Papa?” Janice re-directed her focus; “Why couldn’t he have done that?”
“I know, Baby,” he answered, and then with his fatherly wisdom, he went on. “Children, no matter what age they are, always want to be with their own friends and … many times, their jobs … more than they want to be with us ‘ol’ fogies’. We just have to learn to let’em make their own decisions. YOU know what I mean, don’t you, Baby?”
“Ohhh, Papa,” she moaned with apparent regret, and knowing he was right.
Papa continued; “Look what Mama and I’ve had to put up with – you three, growing up, flying the coup, leaving the nest, scattering to the four corners of the globe; each of you…”
Janice, true to her natural instincts, then jumped in and cut him off. “You know I had to go with my husband…”
And then Duncan interrupted her again. “Dad knows that, sweetheart, and he knows I had to go where the work is.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Son. Today, families spread out all over the place, and seldom return to the old home-fires except for emergencies and a few bless-ed holidays like this one; and THIS Christmas, we’re all going to be together for the first time in twenty-three years!”
“Well … not ALL of us!” Janice gave a sharp little shake of her head and scowled at Duncan. She was probably realizing that NEITHER of their sons was going to be present for the Christmas festivities.
“Well, what about Jack?” Mama suddenly asked. “What’s he doing, and why didn’t he and … ‘Bubbles’ … come up with you? She started laughing uncontrollably, and then continued; “I still can’t believe he married a girl named ‘Bubbles’!” Her laughing grew giddier while everyone else tried as best they could to keep straight faces.
Soon, her laughter quieted, and Janice said with a smirk, “You tell’em, Duncan; I can’t.” She crossed her arms and covered her mouth with her hand, trying to conceal her own silent snickers, as she shook her head in disbelief.
“Well, first off, let me say that Jack’s now worked himself up to being Shift Boss at the Key Largo Casino in the Keys…”
“Shift Boss?” Papa asked. “What’s a Shift Boss?”
“A Shift Boss is like a manager, Dad,” Duncan answered. “He’s over all the Pit Bosses during an eight-hour shift. And at a LOT more money, too!”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Mama responded.
“Well, anyway…” Duncan went on; “He and ‘Bubbles’ got a divorce a few weeks ago…”
“OHHH, that’s nice,” Mama quickly added.
“And then, last week, he took some time off from work, and he and some girl named ‘Desiree’ flew down to Caracas, Venezuela, and got married.”
“Oh, THAT’s nice,” Mama said with a little ‘questioning’ inflection.
“You mean he remarried his first wife?” Papa asked excitedly.
“No, Dad, he didn’t remarry his first wife. This is his third marriage, as you know, and this is his second wife named ‘Desiree’.”
“Oh, THAT’S NICE, too,” Mama commented as Janice tried to stifle a chuckle. Duncan shot her a glance of disapproval but quickly succumbed to his own silent laughter, and soon, Papa was doing the same thing. But Mama wasn’t affected at all by their strange behaviors; she demurely continued with, “It’ll be so much easier to remember her name this time. But…” with deadly seriousness, she asked, “… why didn’t he want to bring her home and introduce her to everybody?”
“Well … uhhh …” Duncan looked at Janice as if silently questioning how to answer. She looked away, as she raised her open hand to him, thereby offering him ‘the floor’. “… uhhh … well, it seems that … uhhh…” he hemmed and hawed, obviously not knowing … politely … how to tell what he knew. “It seems that they’re staying … uhhh … in Caracas … at a … uhhh … a nudist colony … for a ‘Swingers’ Honeymoon’ … and an all-over tan … or so he says.
Quite innocently, Mama asked, “A ‘Swingers’ Honeymoon’? What’s that? I don’t understand. Do you mean that in the honeymoon suites, the beds are all hung from the ceiling by chains or something, like they have in some picture-shows, and they swing when they’re…”
“JANET! DON’T SAY IT!” Papa abruptly yelled. “I’ll explain it to you, later.”
“Huh?”
At her inquiry, Papa knew he’d said too much to Mama, particularly when she put her fists on her hips, scowled at him, and asked, “John! Just HOW do you know what a ‘Swingers’ Honeymoon’ is like?”
Quickly, and probably with some embarrassment, Papa turned his attention away from Mama’s question, and began re-tonging the logs.
Surely, Destiny intervened in preventing any further discussion of the swinger’s set, as the front door opened and Joan entered with a couple of Gucci bags, seemingly over-flowing with beautifully wrapped packages in them. “Merry Christmas, everyone!” she merrily called out.
“Merry Christmas!” “Come on in, Honey!” “Merry Christmas, Sis!” “Hi, Joan,” they all greeted her together.
Mama was the first to the door to hug Joan. Then she took the bags and handed them to Janice, who, after her own little hug and kiss, returned to pick up the other bag of gifts from the coffee table and knelt down and began placing the packages under the tree.
As the others affectionately greeted Joan, Mama looked out the door, and, not seeing anyone else, turned and asked, “Are Tom and the kids bringing in the luggage?”
“No, Mama,” Joan replied with slight resignation, “I’m by myself. The kids are doing their own things, and … Tom … well …”
Suddenly, a moment of silence filled the room. Only the crackling from the burning logs was heard.
“What about Tom?” both parents asked simultaneously, Mama with despondency in her voice, and Papa with a concerned frown on his face.
With her back to the family while hanging up her Mink coat and Ermine cloche, Joan replied, “He’s not coming.” Then, trying to be up-beat, she added, “But he said to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. I promised I’d do that for him.”
“Oh, Punkin,” Papa said as he moved to her and put his arm around her shoulders; “your ol’ Papa gets the feeling that not everything’s hunky-dory in Paradise. Is that right?”
“You and Tom having problems, Sis?” Janice asked as she finished placing the presents.
“Yeah, I guess you’re both right,” Joan answered. “I’ve never been any good about keeping secrets, have I?”
“Not around people who love ya, Baby,” Papa replied.
“What’s wrong, Honey?” Mama asked. “Tell us about it.”
Janice sat in Mama’s rocker as Joan sat on the sofa between Duncan and Mama.
“Oh, Mama…” Joan began, “Well … as you already know, Tom has built ‘FreeInfo.com’ into a fantastically successful business, so successful that … welllll … this is supposed to be top secret for the moment, but I’m at the point where I don’t care who the hell…”
“Watch your mouth, Joan!” Mama scolded, slapping her on the knee.
“I’m sorry, Mama, but I don’t care who knows, or even if it gets out and screws up the entire deal! … But Tom’s in negotiations to purchase Google outright … IN CASH!”
“Google? What’s a Google?” Mama asked.
“It’s a company that lets people access ANY information on ANY subject in the world, BY computer, in a matter of only a few SECONDS,” Joan answered.
“My word! What IS this world coming to?” Mama inquired.
Duncan joined the conversation. “Maybe it’s not my place to ask, Joan, but if the business is so successful, what’s the problem?”
“It’s okay to ask, Duncan. Everything will be common knowledge soon, anyway. On New Years’ Eve, I’m flying to our little chalet in Gstaad, Switzerland, for a month.
“Switzerland?” “On New Years’ Eve?” “Gstaad?” Papa, Mama, and Janice all asked at the same time.
Joan held up a hand to quiet everyone, but Duncan continued by asking, “Flying on New Years’ Eve? One of the busiest times of the year?”
“First of all …” Joan began, “… Tom’s letting me use one of the corporate jets – sooo … none of the airport hustle and bustle. That’s how I flew here, and that’s how I’m going to Europe. Secondly – and I really hate to say it, but it’s true – I’ve already filed for divorce…”
Gasps and expressions of shock were instantly given by the others.
“… and my attorney’s taking care of everything. That’s why I’m going to the Alps … to get away from all this crap. Thank God, the kids are all legally adults, and there won’t be any custody battles.”
The questions and comments came flying.
From Papa – “But what happened, Baby? You two always seemed to be so perfect together.”
From Mama – “Oh, Honey, you need to be with those who love you, at a time like this.”
And from Janice, sitting on the edge of her seat, an excited, expectant, greedy look in her eyes, – “How much are you suing him for, Joanie?”
Immediately, Mama and Papa yelled, “JANICE!!!”
Like a little child, she slunk back into the rocker, almost sulking.
“So, what happened, Joanie,” Papa inquired. “What brought all this about so quickly? Have you really thought it through?”
“Papa … Mama …” she answered, looking toward the flames in the fireplace. Then letting her eyes drift around the room as if searching for just the right words, she went on; “I’ve suspected that Tom was cheating on me for about the past two years. But I could never catch him at anything, and there was no way that I could prove my suspicions about him. Not until about two weeks ago!”
“What happened, Baby?” Papa asked.
“Oh, Joan!” Janice popped back into the conversation again. “… Fill us in on the dirt, why don’tcha, huh?”
“JANICE!!!” the parents yelled again.
“Yes, Mama; yes, Papa.”
“You want to tell us about it, Honey?” Mama asked, taking Joan’s hand and patting it comfortingly.
“Well …” Joan began; “I needed to discuss something with Tom … you know … the Christmas trip back here, and the children, all of them, preferring to do their own things rather than come back with us … I went to the office and walked right in. And … uhhh … found Leigh and Tom … in a VERY compromising position…”
Janice quickly looked up from her lap and asked, “Joanie … is Lee … a man … or a woman?
“Would it really matter?” Joan rebuked Janice’s question.
The younger sister simply shrugged and returned to her rocking.
Joan continued; “A woman! … But that doesn’t make it any less painful.”
“Oh, goodie!” Janice excitedly shot back. “Another Clinton-Lewinsky affair!”
“JANICE!!!” Papa yelled in the same tone he had when Janice had been a naughty little girl. “We’re not going to tell you again! You keep acting like a little kid, and I’m … I’m gonna send you upstairs to your old room, again, and you won’t get any Christmas dinner!” He was trying his best to be serious, and he was trying to stifle his chuckles, but he failed miserably.
“You tell’er, Pops!” Duncan spoke up.
From the pile of several pinecones near her end of the hearth, Janice picked up one and threw it across the narrow room toward Duncan and hit him in the chest. He gave her a dirty look.
Papa cleared his throat at the shenanigans of his youngest offspring, then went on with his interrogation of Joan. “So, have you come to any decisions about AFTER the divorce, Baby? Where you might go? What you might do?”
“I’ve got a couple things I’m toying with, but no firm decisions yet. Maybe I can solidify some ideas while in Gstaad.”
Her eyes darted aimlessly around the room, blinking rapidly as apparent ideas were forming in her mind. She spoke as each idea seemed to materialize. With each new thought, her eyes sparkled more and more.
“Maybe … just maybe … I can get Marcello, in Rome … and Claudette, in Paris ... and maybe Gustav, in Frankfurt … to come for a weekend of skiing … AND maybe … we can discuss the possibilities … of opening a new … trans-Atlantic fashion line … YEAHHH!” By then, she had a huge smile on her face and her head was quickly nodding up and down as she bit her lower lip in excited anticipation of the meeting.
“Oh, Honey,” Mama said, turning her body toward Joan, “that sounds perfect for you! You always did have a good sense of fashion – designing and making your own clothes. Oh, yeah, and all the costumes for the school plays, too. And your period costumes were the most gorgeous I think I’ve ever seen. I almost forgot about that.”
“Yes, Mama, I always enjoyed it, and now that I’m going to be free again, I’ll have the time and … thanks to Tom’s entrepreneurial success and fortunes…”
Everyone laughed.
“… and the … MEANS …” (She rubbed her thumb and first two fingers together in the recognizable manner indicating ‘money’.) “… to make my dreams come true. You want to know something?”
Everyone nodded.
“I think I’m really gonna enjoy being my own woman once again!”
“Hear! Hear!” Duncan spoke up. “Now, has anyone heard from Nancy? When will she be getting here? I’m getting hungry, and all those great smells coming from the kitchen are making me hungrier.”
“Oh, dear me,” Mama said, jumping up from the sofa; “I almost forgot.” She headed for the kitchen, but as she got to the doorway, she stopped, turned to Papa’s back, put her hands on his shoulders and said, “You tell’em, Papa, about the phone conversation we had with Nancy yesterday, while I go check on everything.”
“I’ll help you, Mama,” Joan offered.
“Me, too, Mama,” Janice echoed.
“Oh, no, you won’t!” Mama chided, motioning for the girls to sit back down after they had made to join her. “Now, you girls just stay where you are.”
“Why not, Mama?” they asked together.
“ Because I’ve got some little surprises for everyone, and I don’t want you to see them yet. I want everybody to just stay out of my kitchen, at least until we sit down to the table. So go on, Papa; you tell’em what Nancy said. I’ll be back in just a bit.” At that, she disappeared into the kitchen.
“Papa, did Nancy say she’d heard anything from Johnny?” Joan asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “She said he called her day-before-yesterday morning…”
“From where?” Duncan cut him off.
Unobtrusively, Joan stood up, stepped over to the fireplace and began looking at the old keepsake Christmas cards Scotch-taped to the mantel.
“From Iraq,” Papa answered Duncan, “and then she said that Johnny should be here some time this afternoon.”
“Oh, good!” Janice commented, smiling. “But he’s not here yet? It’s getting late. I sure hope big brother’s okay.”
Papa went on to explain … “Well, there’s the lay-overs, wherever they stop along the way, and you never know when the military flights are gonna take off … and it IS free to all service people.”
Janice joined Joan at the mantel.
“So, that’s about … what …for him?” Duncan wondered aloud, looking at his wristwatch. “About … thirty-five or more hours since he called Nancy?”
“Yes. I think that’s about right,” Papa agreed.
“Well, I hope they get here soon; I’m starving.” Duncan rubbed his stomach.
Turning, Janice said, “Oh, Papa … you and Mama saved all these SPECIAL Christmas cards we got when we were kids. I haven’t seen these in years. I’d forgotten all about them.”
“And look at this one,” Joan beamed with happiness, holding out a multi-paged card she had un-stuck from the mantel. “It’s my all-time favorite! The one that Uncle Sam…”
At that exact moment, Mama returned to the living-room and laid her kitchen towel on the back of Papa’s chair as the front door opened and Nancy walked in.
“Hello, hello, hello, and Merry Christmas, everyone. I’m finally here! Sorry to be so late.”
Janice returned the card to it’s place and then she and Duncan rushed to follow Janice who had dashed to greet Nancy. After all the customary hugs and kisses and warm greetings, her Alpaca poncho and knitted hat joined the other winter wraps on the clothes-tree, and everyone found a seat; even Mama, but SHE sat on the arm of Papa’s chair, near the door to the kitchen.
“How was the drive, down?” Papa asked.
“Well …” Nancy began, “I was so excited about seeing Johnny again, and of course, coming down here, and seeing everyone else…”
“Yeah! Right!” Janice teased. “I just bet you were!”
“Well, I WAS!” Nancy defended her statement. “Honestly, I was.” Then SHE started laughing, realizing that Janice had been teasing. “I was up until about 3:30 this morning. I went to bed and was planning on getting up about eight o'clock, but then I over-slept until ten o’clock. And wouldn’t you know, it started snowing in the D.C. area around noon, and that’s just when I decided to get on the road. By the time I got through Virginia, nearly everything was white. Thank God there wasn’t much traffic on the interstate, so I made pretty good time. And about fifty miles from here, it was clear sailing with no snow at all.”
“You see, Jan,” Duncan said, shaking a finger at her, “even Nancy was “SAILING!”
Janice wrinkled up her nose at him and stuck her tongue out at him.
“What’d you mean by that, Duncan?” Nancy asked with a sudden scowl on her face.
“Oh, nothing, Nan. Nothing important. Don’t worry about it. Long story. Inside joke.”
Nancy shrugged her shoulders and returned her attention to Mama, who was saying, “Oh, Honey, it sounds like you sure were lucky to get ahead of the snow like that. It’s so good to have you here with us.
Looking back and forth between Mama and Papa, Nancy asked, “Have you heard anything from Johnny, yet? He's not here, is he?
"No, we haven’t, and no, he isn’t,” Papa answered. “When you talked with him day-before-yesterday morning, did he tell you anything about the flight plan?”
She replied, “When he called from Baghdad, he said he was just about to take off for Ramstein Air Base in Germany, then to Keflavik Naval Air Station in Iceland, and finally to Fort Bragg, here in North Carolina. And he said he’d be HERE sometime this afternoon.”
“You look tired, Honey,” Mama commented. “You want to go lay down and rest for a while until we get ready to eat? Nancy shook her head, ‘no’. “We’re just waiting for Johnny, now. Everything’s finished cooking. I’m just keeping everything warm in the oven, or cool in the ‘frig. And as soon as Johnny get here, we’ll eat. I’m sure it won’t be too much longer, now.”
“I sure hope so, Mom.” Nancy sounded anxious and a little worried, combined. Then, looking around, she asked, “How’re you all doing? What’s new and exciting? Where are all the kids? And WHERE’S Tom?” she specifically asked of Joan.
Joan looked around as if hesitating to relate the story again, and Duncan jumped right in by proclaiming, “Joan just got though telling us that she’s getting a divorce, flying to Switzerland on New Year’s Eve, and that she’s going to start an international clothing company with a bunch of ‘feraners’!
Yelling because of Duncan’s dislike of non-Americans, Janice said, “Duncan! That’s not…”
With absolutely no emotion showing, Joan cut her off; “That’s all right, Jan – no harm done.” Then she turned her attention to Duncan, and, very, very professionally, proceeded slowly to give him a strong lambasting. “Thank you, Duncan, for recapping and summarizing my plans so succinctly. Perhaps … WHEN … the company is large enough…”
Still there was no emotion whatsoever indicated, nor was there to be any during the rest of her chiding of her brother-in-law. “… I could hire you to be the analyst in one of my slave-shop assembly-lines in Lower SLOBovia or Cambodia, where the MONKEYS roam all … over … the … ruins, there.”
“Now, now, Joan,” Papa lovingly scolded.
“Sorry, Papa.”
“I know you’re going through some heavy sh.. STUFF … right now …” he replied with a slip of the tongue.
Not believing what he almost said, Mama questioned, “John?”
And not believing that Mama would even dare to question him, he retorted with, “Janet?”
“John,” she said again in a flat tone.
“Janet,” he said again, which was followed by a slight smile growing on his face as he realized what their back-and-forth was beginning to sound like.
“Oh, goodie! I haven’t heard this in years!” Janice piped in.
“What’s that?” Nancy asked.
“They used to do a take-off on the old ‘John-and-Marsha’ routine, and…”
“Yeah,” Duncan jumped in; “we need something to lighten things up, around here.”
Janice begged, “Come on; do it again. I wanna hear you do it again!”
“And I’ve never heard it, Mom … Dad,” Nancy urged. “Come on. Please?”
“Yeah; I’ve never heard it, either,” Duncan continued to encourage them.
Then, Janice really turned on the pleading. “Please … Mama … Papa … ohhh, come on … come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.”
A little embarrassed, the older couple slowly conceded, but looked everywhere except at each other. Then, gradually, Papa silently walked to the far end of the living room, turned, and extended his hand toward her as he lovingly said, “Janet.”
With the same emotion, she stood, holding out HER hand as she said, “John.”
On and on they went, ever inching closer to each other. Each time, her tone reflected his – with longing – with desire – with passion – and then they were in each other’s arms, two seniors, each breathing faster, and then with even a tiny bit of good ol’ clean, erotic close-togetherness until he slightly bent her over backwards, as at the end of a sensual dance, and he deep kissed her.
The two of them broke into uproarious giggling and laughter, and then they ended the dip, and everyone saw that he was sweating and she was blushing. They all applauded the couple who, in turn, bowed to all.
“I love it!” “Encore!” “Bravo” accompanied the younger on-lookers.
After everyone had calmed down, Mama said, “Okay, okay, okay, you people. That’s enough, already. Now, let’s see … where were we?”
“Duncan had just said something that…” Janice began, before Papa cut her off.
“Let’s not go there again, Baby. It’s Christmas Eve. We’re all family, here, and we’re all together again … well, first and second generations, at least … and soon, Johnny’ll be here with us…” (He looked Heavenward.) “... at least we hope and pray that he will.”
Together, everyone exclaimed, “Amen!”
Then Papa continued, “It’s getting late. I think I’ll go get Sam and bring in here so that he can be part of our family gathering. Why don’t you help me get him dressed, Duncan?”
“Sure, Dad. Maybe I can steal some cookies or something from the kitchen, to stop my stomach from growling so much.”
“You just stay outta my kitchen!” Mama demanded. “You hear?” She picked up the towel off the sofa, and swatted Duncan on his behind with it, as he and Papa headed toward the bedroom where Sam stayed (on the same level of the house as the living-room – NOT the upstairs bedrooms).
“OUCH!” he feigned, then winked at his mother-in-law. “So, how IS Sam? I wondered where he was,” Duncan said as the two men left the living-room and headed down the hallway to Sam’s room.
“Now, where were we?” Mama asked the girls as she sat in Papa’s over-stuffed chair. “Ah, yes … back to where we were before we got side-tracked. Joan was about to tell us about HER children; weren’t you, Joan?”
“My children? Ohhh, yes. They’ve all got minds of their own,” she said with a deep sigh.
“Yeah!” Janice echoed her sister’s feelings. “Don’t I know THAT story!?!?!
“So, what are they doing,” Nancy asked, “and why aren’t they here?
“Well…” Joan began, “ you know Jerry … the free spirit that he is!” They all nodded their heads in agreement. “He and a friend of his, and their two … ladies … decided LAST YEAR – without telling anyone else about it until a couple of weeks ago – to spend Christmas week … just the four of them … by themselves … at Lake Louise, skiing, skating, and living the good life as they call it. More like playing house, I’d call it.”
“Where’s Lake Louise?” Mama asked.
Janice then asked, “Isn’t that somewhere up in Canada?”
“And very expensive, too, I hear,” Nancy added.
“Yes, that’s true,” Joan went on to explain. “I just hope none of them ends up with broken bones or ... sprained backs!” she shook her head and sighed in disgust.
Nancy and Janice began laughing, and then Mama joined them suddenly when she finally understood the innuendo.
"Speaking from … personal … experience, are you, Joan?" Mama querried.
"MAMA!?!?!?" Joan replied with a little guilt and a LOT of embarrassment.
Mama and Janice and Nancy ROARED at Joan's predicament. Then, cutting their laughter short, Mama said, “Now, you girls behave yourselves. Young love is beautiful. I may be older than you, but I remember what it was like. Yes … I remember when John and I … were young … and that time … that we…” She abruptly stopped, frozen for a moment, and then quickly moved her free hand to cover her mouth.
“MAMA!” Janice glared at her. “What were you about to tell us?”
Then, in a serious tone, like a mother herself, Joan asked, “MOTHER … what are you keeping from us? What have you never told us?” She was grinning like a mischievous child.
Beginning to play along, Mama moved her hand down from her mouth to around her neck – as a woman of pure innocence would do – and denied everything … “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. I was just … uhhh …uhhh … uhhh …” She was lost for words, and her eyes darted hither, thither, and yon ... everywhere except at any of the three young women.
Nancy came back with, “Come on, Mom. What was it that you were right on the verge of letting slip? It’s just us girls here, now; you can tell us.
“No, no! I’m not saying a word!” Suddenly, Mama had become very ‘prim and proper’. “If you want to know anything, you can just … uhhh … uhhh … you can just ask Papa.”
“PAPA!” Janice yelled at the top of her voice.
Suddenly jarred into regretting her suggestion, Mama sternly ordered, “Hush yo’ mouth, chil’!” It was said in a sort of ‘Black’ dialect, probably reminiscent of the years from having a dear housekeeper whom everyone lovingly called, ‘Beulah’.
Pointing toward Sam’s room, Janice was about to argue with her mother. “But you said…”
“Never mind what I said,” Mama rebuked. “Now hush!” Then she returned her attention to her elder daughter; “And you, Joan, were going to tell us what’s going on with that sweet daughter of yours – Jean.”
On hearing the name ‘Jean’, Nancy interrupted the conversation by holding up a hand, thereby stopping anything else from being said, as she, herself said, “Hold it! Wait a minute! Please.”
The others looked at her expectantly.
“Mom …” she went on, “I haven’t been with this family but for a few years, and I have a question, if I may?”
“Of course, Honey. What is it?
“It may be a silly question, but something strange is going on here, and I’d like to find out the reason why.”
“Now, Honey,” Mama replied, “there’s no such thing as a silly question. You just go right ahead and ask, and if we can, one of us will answer it. You’ve been part of our family long enough to know some of our secrets, so … you go right ahead and ask.”
“Okay. Thanks. … Mom … your name is ‘Janet’. Dad’s name in ‘John’. My husband’s name in ‘John, Junior’.”
“Here it comes,” Janice said with a chuckle.
“Shhhhhhh!” rebuked Mama, with a playful wink and a little grin.
Nancy continued. “Then there’s ‘Janice’, with her boys ‘Jimmy’ and ‘Jack’. And then ‘Joan’, with her kids, ‘Jerry’ and ‘Jean’. Now … my question is … ‘Why all the J’s’?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one,” Mama replied with a hearty laugh.
“Just wait till you hear this,” Joan said, also laughing. “You ready?”
Nancy nodded hesitantly, seeming not sure whether she wanted to hear the reason or not.
“Well … it’s like this,” Mama began quite seriously. “When our … heavenly author …” (She looked ‘heavenward’ for just a second.) “… began writing this scenario, he just started with us – the Papa and the Mama…”
With a frown on her brow, and noticing Joan and Janice desperately tying to restrain their barely audible chuckles, Nancy looked back at Mama, and simply asked, “Huh?”
Instantly, the seriousness of the moment had been broken, and the three other women howled in thunderous laughter. Mama waved her hand to hush everyone, and when all was quiet again, she explained. “Honey, I’ve been asked that question so many times, that I got tired of the same ol’ answer, and now I try to come up with different ways of telling it.”
“Oh,” Nancy remarked as if she had been the brunt of the joke.
“Sooooo,” Mama continued, “our … heavenly author … knew that he wanted us, at some point, to do the John-and-Marsha routine, you know … to liven things up a bit. And that’s the name he gave me – ‘Marsha’. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he didn’t know if he’d get into any trouble with royalties and stuff, so … right off the top of his head, he changed my name to ‘Janet’.
“Then, he realized that by putting ‘John’ and ‘Janet’ together, when the kids started coming along, it would only be logical that the name of EACH one should start with the letter ‘J’. And then when the grand-kids came into our lives, the family just continued the tradition. And that’s why all the ‘J’s’.”
All eyes were on Nancy when she said flatly, “I’m so glad I asked. Thank you.”
Laughter filled the room again. When it finally died down, and after Mama wiped her eyes with the handkerchief she’d pulled from her bosom, she asked, “Now, Joan, what were you going to say about … JEAN?”
There was another short round of chuckles before Joan simply announced, “Well, she and three of her college girlfriends have been in Italy for the last week.
“What?” “Italy? “For the past week?” Mama, Janice, and Nancy asked together with surprise in their voices.
“Yes, and…” Joan looked at her wristwatch, “right about … now, Jean should be walking out of St. Peter’s Cathedral in Rome, after attending Christmas midnight Mass. She’s been planning this for about a year.”
Mama’s eyes lit up and she remarked, “Ohhh, my bless-ed little Jean.”
Janice asked, “Joanie … you’ve know all this time and haven’t said anything?”
“She made me promise not to tell anyone, Jan … … … And … there’s more.”
“What?” Mama and Janice asked simultaneously.
“Oh … I don’t … I don’t know,” Joan faltered. “I’ve already said too much as it is. I don’t want to betray her confidence.” An aura of sadness suddenly seemed to surround her.”
“But you’ve already insinuated SOMEthing, Joanie,” Janice said while moving from the gold rocker to sit between Joan and Nancy on the sofa.
“What is it, Honey?” Mama asked. “You’ve got me on pins and needles, now. It’s nothing bad, is it?”
Sorta unnoticed by the others, Nancy had scooted over against the arm of the sofa, rather distancing herself from her sisters-in-law. She must have been recalling forgotten memories. SOMEthing Joan had said, must have struck a chord within her heart. A finger wiped away a small tear of Joy, but might it not have also been a tear of Regret? Only she could have known the answer.
And then, Mama DID notice. “My word, Nancy! What’s wrong? Are you crying?”
Both girls looked at Nancy. Nancy looked at Mama and gently shook her head in reply. Then, very calmly, she looked into Joan’s eyes, with a gentle, loving smile on her face.
“You know, don’t you, Nancy?” Joan asked.
“Know? You know? What do you know, Nan?” Janice inquired.
“Joan! Nancy! Somebody! Tell me what it is!” Mama was adamant! “Tell me what it is! I don’t think this ol’ heart can stand much more of this.”
With her eyes still gazing into Joan’s, Nancy very calmly and serenely said, “Jean’s not planning on coming home, is she?
Joan slowly shook her head.
“My word!” Mama exclaimed, slumping back into Papa’s chair. Janice immediately jumped up and hurried to her mother’s side, sitting on the arm of the over-stuffed chair.
“And she’s going to ask if she can make her postulancy and her novitiate there in Rome, isn’t she?” Nancy continued her … psychic reading …?
Joan nodded her head that time, and asked, “Is there anything else you know, or are seeing, Nan?”
“It’s like I can see the whole thing taking place,” Nancy looked away from Joan, perhaps into another world … another time. “And in a few years, when she takes her new name as a full-fledged Nun, she’s going to ask if she can be called by her own name, but with the French pronunciation, Soeur Jean-Marie.” Then she returned her gaze into Joan’s eyes.
“Oh, my God!” Joan replied. “Those are exactly the things that Jean made me promise not to tell anyone.”
“And you still HAVEN’T told anyone, my dear sister-in-law,” Nancy tried to comfort her. “You have not broken your confidence.”
“But how did you know?” Joan inquired.
“Really? I don’t know,” Nancy replied. “Sometimes, these things just … just happen! I can’t explain it, but as you began, there was a greater sense of love and respect for her, coming from you, and I felt that you wanted to share with us the Joy of her decision, and at the same time, you wanted to honor your commitment of secrecy … temporary, though it might be.”
“Yes, you’re absolutely right.” Joan squeezed Nancy hand.
“And also …” After saying those two words, Nancy stopped, probably debating whether or not to say what she was thinking.
“Yes …?” Joan coaxed.
Nancy took a deep breath, then released a sigh of resignation, and said, “What Jean is going through right now, is what I might have gone through after finishing high school, if I hadn’t become so … so … boy-crazy! And then I met Johnny … ohhh, I wish he was here right now. I just wish he would hurry up and get here. But let’s us girls get together sometime next week, and I’ll tell you the whole story. The guys’ll be back with Sam pretty soon, and let’s not say anything about Jean until Johnny gets here and all settled in, and then surprise them all with the news.”
“Okay, Nancy,” Joan agreed; “that sounds like the right thing to do. And Nancy … thanks for sharing that part of yourself with us.”
Joan and Nancy hugged, and then Joan backed away at arm’s length as if the psychic energy were spreading, and then asked, “Nancy?”
“Yes?”
“You’re adopted, aren’t you?” Joan asked.
“Yes.”
“Ooooooo! That psychic stuff must be contagious!” she teased.
"How did you know that?" Nancy asked.
"I didn't," Joan confessed, "… not until we touched … and then I just sorta … KNEW! … just sorta … saw it."
Nancy looked around at the three other women and said, “Yes; that's the way it happens, and I just want to tell you all, that right now, I feel that you are the sisters and the mother that I never had. I feel like I have a real family for the first time in my life.”
At that, all four rose from their seats, and Mama and Janice joined Joan and Nancy in a four-way hug, as Papa and Duncan returned with Sam to the living-room, whereupon, the four broke their intimacy and took their seats again; Mama went to her rocker, since Papa would more than likely want his own chair.
***
And this is where I, Sam, joined the family’s Christmas Eve festivities. My brother, John, who I sometimes call ‘Papa’, was talking to me as he and Duncan led me into the room. [Since I seldom talk aloud any more, all my thoughts and unspoken words will be in italics and in present tense as they happen, from this point, on.]
“Okay, little brother, here ya go. Can you say hello to everyone?”
I don’t recall saying anything to anyone at that time.
“All right, now; why don’t you sit right here on this nice cushion on the hearth right by the fireplace? That way you can stay nice and warm …”
With John’s help, I sit … of course, with his encouragement and assistance. I like John; I really do. He’s always nice to me and always takes care of me ... just as if he were my REAL papa.
“… and when Johnny gets here, we’ll all go in and have a nice Christmas dinner,” I sorta hear him say, somewhere off in the distance. I look around at all the different people in the room but don’t see Johnny anywhere. ‘Where are you Johnny? Where are you?’ I think I hear myself call out. But my lips don't move, and there’s no answer.
At times, it’s almost as if I’m outside of myself. I can sometimes see everything around me, even when my real eyes are closed. I can sometimes hear what people say. But I like to hear the news on the radio or television; I really like that, but most times it makes me sad, and a lotta times, I get mad … real mad … at what I hear or see. I can feel; I can smell; I can taste; and I can even sense things. But I can’t very often make the real ME do or react the way … the way everybody expects me to … the way I want to. But I’ve gotten used to that, now. But that’s okay; I’ve still got my … my memories … some very NICE memories … and some … NOT very nice memories. Awww, shit! Are my eyes weeping again? I want to wipe the wetness off my cheeks, but my hands won’t move up there. Damn!
My head droops down and all I can see is … Johnny … and then I feel myself slightly rocking back and forth, and I begin softly whistling Johnny’s song. And then I sense that someone is coming toward me, and she kneels down in front of me and takes my hands in her hands and she says, “Hello, Uncle Sam; Merry Christmas – it’s Joan. I’ve come home for Christmas, just to see you, you ol’ sweetheart.”
I can’t make myself respond to her greeting, but I can feel the warmth of her hands, and I know that she loves me, and I know that I love her.
Then she stands up and kisses me on top of my head and goes and sits on the sofa. “Is he any better, Mama … Papa?” she asks.
“He has his moments,” I hear Mama answer. “Most of the time, he just sits in his rocking chair and stares out the window – to what? Heaven only knows … memories, probably.”
Then my big brother, John … Papa , reaches over, pats me on the shoulder and says, “And for the past two weeks … since we got the letter and told him that Johnny’s coming home for Christmas … he’s been whistling or humming that old Civil War tune, When Johnny Comes Marching Home, over and over and over.”
When I hear Johnny’s name mentioned, I look at Papa and smile. I know I’m smiling; I can feel my cheeks wrinkling up. And he smiles back at me.
“At least,” I hear Mama say, “it’s more than we’ve heard out of him since Johnny went to Iraq two years ago.”
I look at her and I’m becoming angry thinking about little Johnny over there. But I can’t tell anyone how mad it makes me! Damn! DAMN! DAMN! I want to scream!
Then I hear that man called ‘Duncan’ saying, “You think he’s remembering what happened to himself, while he’s thinking about Johnny being in a war like he was?”
DAMN RIGHT! I wanna yell … but can’t.
“Could be,” Papa says, as he strokes the back of my head. I know my big brother’s trying to comfort me. “We’ve thought about that same thing."
“What really happened to him?” asks Duncan. “I’ve never heard the whole story.”
And I don’t want to hear it again! ‘I just wanna be well again!’ I hear myself saying, but it doesn’t seem that anyone else can hear me.
Then Joan answers him, “Uncle Sam was wounded in the Viet Nam War, Duncan … seriously wounded in a foxhole near Da Nang.”
“He was in the military hospital near San Francisco for about a year-and-a-half before they allowed him to come home to us.” That’s Mama’s voice.
I’m still rocking and whistling, trying not to pay attention to what they’re saying. Sometimes I wish I could turn OFF my hearing and turn ON my arms and my legs and my voice! But right now, I’m listening to little Joanie’s voice.
“Some shrapnel hit him and penetrated his brain, and he’s never been the same, since. It’s very, very difficult for him to concentrate on anything, but he does occasionally come out of his … stupor … for short periods of time.”
Stupor? You got that right, Joanie! A state of mental numbness; but not just mental! Physical, too!!!
I sense that someone called ‘Nancy’ is standing beside me and in front of the fireplace.
“Can we not talk about that right now,” she asks, “at least, not until Johnny gets here. I’m really starting to get worried about him.”
Something’s causing my left hand to rise up toward her and I take her hand and squeeze it. As I’m looking at her, she looks at me and smiles. I think she knows that I love Johnny, too. She squeezes back.
“Of course, Honey.” “How thoughtless of us.” “Sure, Nan.” “Oh, yes, of course,” I hear them all respond at the same time, to her request.
And then, Nancy, still holding my hand, is asking, “Mom, what all did Johnny say in that letter you got from him a couple of weeks ago?”
I look up at Nancy and think that she must be Johnny’s wife … or girlfriend! She sure is pretty.
Janet … Mama … is answering her question. “It’s right there on the mantel, Honey, just over Sam’s head.”
And then Papa asks, “Why don’t you read it to us, Mama, so everyone can hear it?
“Would that be okay with you, Nancy, Honey?” Mama asks.
“Yes, oh, yes, Mom; I don’t think I could read it without breaking down,” I hear her answer. Then she squeezes my hand once more and releases it. I see her take something off the mantel and then hand it to Mama.
“Okay,” Mama begins. I close my eyes again and let my head droop as I uncontrollably start rocking once more.
Mama continues. “This is the last letter that Johnny wrote, or at least the last one we’ve received. It’s dated October 12th.”
On hearing Johnny’s name, I start whistling his song once again, but just barely audible.
“Dear Mama and Papa,” she starts reading from the letter. “It’s 8 PM here in Iraq, & still in the low 100’s or high 90’s. Even after being here for 2½ yrs., I still can’t believe how the heat just hangs around all the time except for early mornings, when it really drops down to the low 40’s. Knowing that Xmas will soon be here, you just have no idea how many guys, me included, have said that they’d love to be having a white Xmas this year, just to cool things off a bit.”
I know what he’s going through. I can feel it, though I know his is dry and mine was humid. God! Get him outta that hell-hole. Please!
Mama’s still reading. “Lately, I’ve been thinking about home a lot, too. About how festive you both used to make the log cabin around the holidays, set there in the middle of those beautiful, green 28 hilly, wooded acres, & the 2 creeks just beginning to have a light covering of ice on them.
And then, suddenly, I heard Janet’s voice, but I also heard Johnny’s voice in my head. They were saying the same words.
“One Xmas – I don’t remember which one, really – I must have been around 5 or 6 – I remember the bright red cardinals and the big blue jays sitting in that huge cedar tree outside the dining room window, the branches drooping from the weight of new fallen snow.”
Then I noticed that I could only hear Johnny’s voice. I glanced over at Janet; her lips were moving like she was reading the letter, but no sound was coming out of her mouth. But Johnny’s voice was in my head. ‘Oh, Johnny … are you getting closer to home?’
His words and voice continued on.
“The sky was clear, only a few fluffy white clouds drifting slowly and all of us out in the front yard, building a huge snowman with a big orange carrot for a nose and two lumps of coal for his eyes, and a bunch of little stones outlining his lips. You let me tie my red & green checkered scarf around his neck. And then, a few days later, we were standing out on the enclosed front porch, watching the windstorm blow snow & dead branches everywhere.
“Do you remember that storm? Jan & Joan being little tykes, were so scared, they wouldn’t even stay out on the porch with us with all the howling of the wind and the noise of dead branches falling on the roof. But not me – no! I was your brave little soldier, you said. The wind came up really strong, & I noticed that Mr. Snowman’s scarf was coming undone, flapping all over the place.
“I ran out the door. You tried to stop me but I didn’t pay any attention, and by the time I got there the wind whipped the scarf up into the air and it caught on a real high branch on top of a real tall pine tree. I was so mad! I wanted to cry, but you had told me that big boys don’t cry, so I didn’t. I just walked back toward the house, slow like, & a big gust of wind came up and knocked me down tumbling me into a snowdrift. I just laid there, doing nothing. Crying silently. I didn’t feel like a brave soldier & I sure didn’t feel like what I thought a big boy should feel like at that moment.
“Mama, Papa, do you remember that both of you ran out to check on me? Mama, you thought I was dead and you started crying. And Papa, you picked me up and carried me back inside the house. I was shivering & you wrapped me in blankets and when I warmed up a little, you gave me something real hot to drink – I think it was ‘Jewish penicillin’ or chicken soup or something like that – and then you put me to bed with a couple of those red rubber hot water bottles.
“Oh, and Papa, I remember the old wire basket with the long wooden handle that you used to put popcorn in and shake if for what seemed like hours over the flames in the fireplace. And Mama, after you put the popcorn in a bowl, you’d melt butter & pour it over the hot popcorn. That was the best stuff I ever ate. And that butter was some of the fresh homemade butter that I’d churned in that big ol’ wooden butter churn. My arms used to hurt so much from doing that. But it sure was good butter.
“And Daisy, oh, sweet Daisy, who you used to milk, Papa, also gave us the best milk I’d ever tasted – except when she’d been eating wild onions. Remember that? Yuck! And, ohhhhh, that thick rich cream that rose to the top of the milk you kept in those white enamel’d pans in the old ice box. And when you weren’t looking, Mama, I used to sneak a few spoonfuls of that delicious fresh cream. But then, maybe you DID see me do it ‘cause you always told me that you had eyes in the back of your head.
“Oh, I loved Daisy. When I was about 4 or 5, you both used to get mad at me when I’d kiss her on the mouth, but I always thought that nothing ever smelled better than her sweet warm breath. And I remember grabbing onto her horns, throwing my legs up around her neck, locking my feet behind her head, and then letting my hands dangle down to the ground while she sauntered around as long as I could keep my feet locked together. Those sure were fun times for me.”
I know Janet … uhhh … Mama’s reading the letter from Johnny, but in my head I can hear Johnny’s voice just as clear as if he were here. ‘Oh, Johnny, oh, Johnny, come home soon, my boy. Come home soon.’ I guess I'd stopped whistling a little while ago, and so, I start whistling his song again, softly, so as not to disturb the others. Even with my brain injury, I can do three things at once – whistle, rock, and listen. All at the same time. Whoopee!
“I look back on those days in the log house, on those 28 acres, and I think that that was the happiest time of my life, when we had all those acres to ourselves. But that was before you put in the public road, sub-divided the property and sold off parcels to entire strangers so they could build new homes.
“Oh, it was nice to have some neighbors & some boys my own age to play with, but those new people & their new houses took away so much of the woods I loved to play in, & they chased away all my little wild animal friends, even the king snakes. But seeing how kids are raised today, I have to say that it was a wonderful place for the 3 of us little ones to grow up. I sometimes still dream about playing in those woods on the property. It’s strange – I’ve been dreaming about it an awful lot, lately.
“Oh, I just thought of something else. Do you still have the painting of Sally, hanging over the fireplace? She was the love of my young life, my own Doberman Pinscher who you let me bottle-feed and raise from the time she was the cast-aside runt of the litter, until 3 years later when she left us … to take care of another little boy … or so you told me, because I was growing up so fast. It still hurt like hell (forgive my language, Mama) when she disappeared on Christmas Eve, after I bought her a beautiful red leather collar studded with rhinestones for her Christmas present that she never got to wear.”
Oh, God! I remember that happening, and I can hear the pain STILL in Johnny’s voice, even as he writes the words. ‘Oh, Johnny …’
“And I also remember that you used to tell me something else. You told me that when I was just learning to crawl, you, Mama, and some girlfriends from college were playing tennis on the clay court that Granddaddy had built (God rest his and Grandmama’s souls). And I must have crawled from the blanket where you’d laid me, over to the little cement fish pond that Granddaddy had also built. And I fell in.
“Connie, the collie we had at the time, saw me in the water and started barking like crazy, but nobody paid her any attention and she jumped in and pulled me out of the water by the back of my diaper. She saved my life.”
I hear Mama sniffling, and I stop whistling but I can’t lift my head to look up at her. DAMMIT ALL TO HELL! And I hear her saying…
“Papa, can you take over? I don’t think I can finish reading this next part.”
“Sure,” he says. “Are you all right?”
She doesn’t answer; I guess she’s nodding her head. I hear some moving around and when everything is quiet, Papa … my big brother … says …
“And now I want to tell you something, something that I never thought I’d have the guts to tell either of you, and that’s this – when I was a boy, even through high school, there were times that I felt like I hated you – either you, Papa, or you, Mama. But after I grew up, joined the military, made friends, talked with guys & discovered what their childhoods and their parents were like, I began discovering how very blessed I was to have your love, your caring, and yes, your strict discipline, too. For without any of that, Mama … Papa, I wouldn’t be the man I am today. I thank you for that, from the very bottom of my heart.”
As when Janet began reading, I am now hearing Johnny’s voice at the same time as I hear big brother’s voice. Oh, it sounds so good; so strong; he’s getting nearer; he’s coming home. I can feel it!
“And now that I’m an adult, I don’t have ANY regrets for the way I grew up. I realize that you both did the very best that you could – the very best that you knew how, in raising me.
And now … all I hear is Johnny’s voice, but I know Papa’s lips are moving because he’s reading the letter now.
“I just want to take this moment to write these 7 little words to you, and I hope and pray that you’ll understand and feel what’s in my heart right now. And those 7 little words are these – Thank you, and I love you both.”
“Those few little words come from the very bottom of my heart, and I just wanted to tell you this before … well … all of us men and women over here are in a living hell, and anything can happen at any time. We just never know when our time is up, do we? But that’s true of everyone, isn’t it? Even you folks back home.
“And while I’m writing about this, I want to tell you something else, Papa. You raised me to be a man. You taught me to be manly and I appreciate that, Papa. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.
“But I’ve been over here for a long time, Papa, and I’ve seen things I don’t think you could imagine. Aside from all the horrors of war that everyone—military or not—imagines or expects, I’ve seen strong brotherly love between guys who aren’t even related to each other. I’ve seen guys hug each other in fear, in terror, in pain, in appreciation of help rendered, in sadness, and in loneliness. I’ve heard men … REAL men … express love for one another.
“You and I never did that, Papa, except when I was real little. We always shook hands, or slapped each other on the back, or punched each other in the shoulder. But we never hugged. I know that I need that, Papa. When I come home, that’s one of the first things I want to do. Will you allow that to happen, Papa? Because … I really do love you, Papa. I really do.”
Suddenly, again, it's quiet. No one's talking but I hear Mama crying softly, and then Papa’s blowing his nose. Somebody else is crying, too, but I don’t know who it is – probably little Joanie or Jannie.
“Sorry I’ve gotten so maudlin,” Papa is reading again, “and I haven’t even had anything to drink in a long time. And I’m tired, and I need some shut-eye. So I’ll close for now.
“Give my love and very best wishes to the entire family.
“P.S. Just as I was writing that last sentence, the sirens sounded, we went out on maneuvers that lasted about 36 hours; I don’t even think any of us got any sleep in all that time, but I’m now back at the base in Falluja, not far from Baghdad, and happy to say, still in one piece. Can’t say the same for a few of my buddies, though.
“It’s quiet for a change – a very welcome change, I assure you. But before I sack out, I just wanted to let you know that when I got back from maneuvers, I got word that a month’s leave has been okayed for me, beginning December 23rd, IF things don’t change drastically from the way they are right now. And so, if everything goes as planned, as the old song says … I’ll be home for Christmas, this year.
“And the letter is signed … ‘All my love … Johnny’.”
Everything’s quiet again. I can hear the fire crackling and the Grandfather’s clock ticking, but nobody’s saying anything. WHY NOT? Oh, shit! I wanna lift my head and look around, but I CAN’T! I hear Papa clearing his throat and sniffling a bit. Oh, good! He’s starting to talk again.
“Duncan, I’m getting hungry, too. What say we men make our ladies get up off their … derrières … and let’s go eat. We’ll set a place for Johnny … at the head of the table … for when he gets here. And he WILL get here soon; I know.”
Joan says, “Just a minute, Papa. Please?”
“Yes, Baby? What is it?”
“Well, Papa, as beautiful as Johnny’s letter is, I think we’re all a little sad that he’s not here yet, to say those things in person. I think we need to lighten up a bit before going into the dining room.”
“That’s a great idea!” Duncan says.
“What’d you have in mind?” Papa asks.
“Just a minute … I wanna try something.”
Then, I sense her sitting on the hearth beside me, and she says, “Uncle Sam … Uncle Sam!” From somewhere deep inside, I feel the strength to lift my head and look at her. “You remember that little story you used to read to us every Christmas Eve when we were all little kids? You remember that? The ‘Legend Of The Star’?” I lean my head over onto her shoulder. “Sure you do. It’s Christmas Eve right now, and I’d love more than anything else for you to read it to us again, and then we’ll go have a delicious Christmas dinner.”
I slowly lift my head and look into her beautiful eyes – the little girl I’ve always loved, and I feel a smile cross my face.
“I knew you could do it. I love you, Uncle Sam.” She puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me tightly to herself. “Now come on … stand up for me. Please? … Try real hard to stand up for me.”
She’s helping me, and I feel that I CAN stand up. She’s reaching for something on the mantel. Now I see it – it’s the Christmas card I made … how many years ago? I can’t even remember. She’s handing it to me, and now I’m trying to read what’s on the pages, but I can’t make anything out. I’m frowning; I can feel it. And I hear myself saying, “The … words … are … all … blurry. I can’t … I can’t … make them out.” I look at her. She’s smiling and she’s hugging me again.
“He needs his glasses. Anybody know where they are?”
Mama says, “They’re up there on the left side, behind the little plastic trees.”
Now, Joanie’s putting the glasses on me. And my hand comes up and pushes them back and straightens them.
“There you are, Uncle Sam. How’s that?” I nod ‘OK’. “You want me to stay here beside you?”
I’m feeling stronger, now. And I WANT to read the story again. Yes, I WANT to read the story again! I look at her and say, “No … you go … sit with … the other children.”
She goes to move away, but somehow I reach out and lay my hand on her shoulder. She stops, and turns back, and I say, “… but …thank you … Joan?”
“Yes, Uncle Sam; I’m Joan.” And she hugs me again and kisses me on the cheek before going back to sit on the sofa.
“Okay,” I ask, “is everybody ready … like … good little boys and girls?”
They all nod their heads, and start saying things, but with everybody talking at the same time, I can’t make out what anyone is saying. “Everyone quiet now, so you can hear The Legend Of The Star.”
All of a sudden, I feel strong. I’m standing up straight, and I begin. “Somewhere … in outer space … a giant star … was speeding … one which had never been seen … on Earth before. It was a lonely star.
“ ‘All I ever do is zoom through this … noth-ing-ness … of space. I don’t have any purpose in being…” I hear the words that I’m reading and I think that I’m reading about … ME! But I go on. “… and I never have anyone to look at me or watch me because I’m so far away from everything,’ it thought to itself century after century. I’m just a no-good piece of hot, burning gas …”
Did I write this … years ago before … before … Viet Nam? Oh, God! Did I foretell my own … problems? I feel like crying, but I HAVE to go on! I just HAVE to. Maybe this will help.
“… I wonder if God DID have a purpose in creating me?’ ”
“ ‘Oh, Star,’ spake the holy voice of God through that … noth-ing-ness … ‘I created you for a purpose, and you will fulfill that purpose soon. Be prepared. Be happy!’ ”
Oh, I am. I am! I feel better than I have in years!
“The giant star dimmed his … his coun-te-nance … while the Most High spoke, and afterwards asked, ‘Oh, Creator, what is my … purpose?’ ”
Yes, dear God … what IS my purpose … unable to do anything all these years? Why didn’t I just die in that swampy jungle? Why? WHY?
Suddenly, Joanie is standing beside me again, this time, her arm around my waist. “It’s alright, Uncle Sam; it’s alright. You wanna sit down?” I shake my head. “You feel like going on?”
I nod my head. YES! I WANT to go on! I HAVE to! For SOME reason, I HAVE to go on.
“There was no answer,” I begin again, “for God had spoken.
Joanie stays beside me. I seem to be getting the strength to continue, from her.
“Mr. Gi-gan-tic thought, ‘God said that I did have a purpose, but I wonder what it is? I dare not ask again, for if I should ask, He might dis-in-te-grate me, and I could not fulfill my purpose.’ ”
Oh, yeah. But … REALLY? NO! There must be SOMETHING left undone. I can’t just give up. I’ve got to try harder.
“So, Old Mr. Gigantic worried no more. He only turned up his … countenance …” God! That was hard! But I said it without looking at each syllable … yeah! That’s the word! It’s getting easier, now! “… his countenance … as bright as he could glow; he was happy!
“Many years passed.
“ ‘I’ve never been along this path before,’ he thought; ‘I must be going through a new galaxy.’ ”
“Now, Mr. Gigantic began to slow down in speed, and he became bothered, because he was not slowing down of his own accord.
“ ‘Be happy, oh, Star!’ came the holy voice of God.
“Our Mr. Gigantic almost exploded, because he was so happy. ‘I shall be, Oh, Creator, I shall!’ was his response to God. ‘My purpose is about to be fulfilled, but what is it, I wonder? … But I must be happy!’ he thought as he came to a stop high above Earth.
“One of his beams of light grew longer and longer until it touched a very small building in Bethlehem.
“At the same moment there was uttered a cry from a new-born baby. Angels from Heaven were fluttering toward the place. One of them, a little angel, fluttered above Mr. Gigantic and said, ‘Thank you, Mr. Star, for showing the way. I didn’t know exactly where He is!’
“ ‘Where who is?’
“ ‘Don’t you know what has just happened?’
“ ‘No.’
“ ‘The Christ-child was born only minutes ago, the Son of God, and I must hurry along now; thank you again!’
“Old Mr. Gigantic was so happy, he didn’t know what to do.
“ ‘Your purpose has been fulfilled, oh, Star,’ spoke God.
“ ‘Oh, Almighty Creator, let me just shine a little longer for the Christ-child.’
“ ‘You shall shine until the morrow.’
“ ‘Thank you, O Creator, O, Father of the little one.’
“Well … on the morrow, our Mr. Gigantic was not to be seen. He was back in that nothingness, but now, he is not murmuring; he is singing as loudly as he can, praises to God, his Creator.”
I DID it! I read the whole thing, and it got easier as I went further. I turn my head to look at Joan, and smile. Everyone is talking to me now and smiling, and Joan is saying, “That was beautiful, Uncle Sam, just beautiful.”
Then she said to everybody else, “Y’all go on in to the dining room. Uncle Sam and I’ll be in soon.”
After they left, she stood in front of me, kissed me on the tip of my nose, and said, “You did great, Uncle Sam! You did great! Thanks for coming back to us for a few minutes. But you know … we sure would love for you to come back to us full time. We all love you, ya know. I know I do.”
I can't say anything just now; it's all just too over-whelming for me.
She then led me to the sofa and told me to sit and rest for a while. “You stay here for a bit, and I’ll come get you when everything’s ready.” Then she left to join the others.
I just sit here, watching the flames in the fireplace, and begin whistling When Johnny Comes Marching Home, again. And I slowly begin singing to myself …
When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah! Hurrah!
We’ll give him a hearty welcome then, Hurrah! Hurrah!
In my mind, I can see Johnny walking in the door, and so, I stand up from the sofa, tall and straight, and give my ‘imaginary’ Johnny a sharp salute, and continue singing …
The men will cheer and the boys will shout;
The ladies they will all turn out,
And we’ll all feel good, when Johnny comes marching home.
Get ready for the Jubilee, Hurrah! Hurrah!
We’ll give our hero three times three, Hurrah! Hurrah!
And then I realized that Johnny WASN’T there and I started getting sad again and the words came slower and then softer until just barely a whisper, and I sat once more, drooping my head.
The laurel wreath is ready now to place upon his loyal brow,
And we’ll all feel good when … Johnny … comes marching … home.
I hadn’t noticed it while I was singing, but the front door had opened, and a man in a military uniform entered and closed the door. He just stood there until I finished my sad song, and then he said …
“Merry Christmas, Uncle Sam.”
My head jerked toward the familiar voice, and I yelled as loud as I could, “JOHNNY’S HOME!” How the hell did I do that? I haven't yelled in years!
Everyone came running, but I jumped up and got to him first. We hugged … oh, so tightly, and I buried my head in the crook of his neck, tears of Joy pouring from my eyes. The women were pawing at me, trying to get to Johnny, and I slowly backed away.
Papa just stood back and watched as everyone hugged and kissed and greeted Johnny.
Then Johnny looked across the room to Papa. And Papa looked across the room to Johnny. Everyone quieted down and stepped back, creating something like an aisle way between the two men.
Papa extended his hand toward his first-born, and as Papa approached, he said, “Merry Christmas, Johnny.”
Johnny didn’t move, not even to raise his hand. He just looked into his father’s eyes.
Papa hesitated a moment, then opened BOTH arms as he said, “Welcome home … Son.”
Johnny then rushed to his father and … THEY HUGGED!
The End of the Beginning of a New Life for All.
Merry Christmas.
*
**
***
****
*****
******
*******
*
*
Comments welcome, please drop the author an note:
Posted: 12/17/10