I haven't been writing much at all lately due to a broken laptop. Inspiration struck night before last when this story popped into my head and wouldn't go away until I wrote it. It's rough and needs serious re-editing and corrections but I knew this needed to be done for Xmas morning.
I'm spending my first Xmas without my little sister and I miss her terribly. I am very happy for her because I know she curled in the arms of her awesome and loving wife yet Xmas just isn't Xmas unless the two of us are getting into some form of trouble. lol. I wish Mary & Christine were both here but maybe next year...(Joelle too).
This story is probably the closest glimpse I could ever describe as the chaos we put ourselves through at that tiny house on 2619 Salcedo Ave during the holidays. I did take some liberties seeing that it's written from the point of view of an eight year girl which suffice to say, is something I don't have a lot of experience with. (Sorry Mary, I hope did try to stay close to the source material.)
It's also a bit long for a blog but hey, I had to put it up somewhere. Consider it peek into my first of several editions of collected works.
I wish everyone a Merry Christmas and I hope Santa and his many elves treat y'all wonderfully.
It was the day before Xmas in the Richardson family and
the Savannah house bustled almost with a nervous energy of anticipation and
close quarters. Little Mary coughed. It was Xmas which meant she was sick
again. For her past eight years, somehow Mary always blessed the family with
getting sick around the holidays. “It would be her gift to us,” joked her
father to a very tired mother. At least this year, Mary just had a cold as
compared to her various aliments of strep throat.
Mary walked down the hallway into the kitchen which
always seemed the nerve center of her grandparent’s house on the Savannah
marsh. Her grandmother was over the sink heading shrimp while Uncle Billy stood
by her with a glass of red wine in his hand. They were arguing over it being too
early to start drinking.
“Honestly, Billy, I understand you do things differently
out in California but it just seems too early to start,” said Grandma with a
slight bit of indignation.
“Mother, you need to just relax. Cooking is an art and
should be enjoyed. Here.” Billy poured his mother a small glass of sherry.
“Well,
if you going to pour that much may as well make it a bit more. It is the
holidays,” laughed Grandma. Mother and son clinked their glasses and went back
to cooking preparations that would turn the little house into series of
delicious smells.
Mary
got a little excited about the idea of Xmas eve dinner tonight. Grandma was
making her famous Savannah Red Rice while she had no idea what creation Billy
would make. He was a good cook but Mary recalled hearing her mother and father
discuss many times how Billy had no idea what it was like to cook with two kids
and an impatient grandfather waiting on dinner.
Mary
strolled up to the sink, “Can I have a cookie?” Grandma and Uncle stopped their
slicing’s and beheading of shrimp. Both smiled a little at the little girl.
Are
you sure you won’t spoil your dinner, Mary?” asked Grandma as she wiped her
hands on the dish worn Xmas towel she always kept beside the sink. Mary shook
her head. “Go on. You know where they are.
Mary
walked over to the pantry shelf and opened up the Tupperware containers which
held a multitude of Xmas cookies. Some were made by Grandma; some by Mary’s own
mother, and the rest were sugar cookies baked and decorated by Mary and her big
brother, Robby.
Mary
chose the sugar cookie for her and picked up the chocolate peppermint cookie
for her brother. She knew he loved this cookie and came to look forward every
Xmas for Grandma to bake them. It was a small sugar cookie laced with bits of
peppermint cane candy. On the top was always Hershey’s kiss. Mary knew she’d
need to heavy artillery to persuade her brother who claimed to be wrapping
gifts but, in actuality, was just watching TV in the living room.
A
loud thud came from outside followed by a very familiar, “GO@D$%N!!!” Mary
looked out the window to see her father loading up the Georgia Buggy’s trailer
with lumber while Pop was in the driver’s chair giving directions.
The
Georgia Buggy, as it was christened by her Dad, was actually just a Snapper
lawn mower which Pop bought that always seemed to be used for everything else
but mowing the grass. This afternoon, Mary’s Dad and Pop were taking some wood
down to the dock for whatever repairs were always seemed to be needing to be done.
The wood fell out the trailer which her Dad was quickly trying to stack back up
while Pop belayed orders. “You’re doing it all wrong!” Leave some room on the
sides so you can pack it in tight!”
“Dammit,
Dad!” I think I got this! I have Masters and run a college library. I think I
can figure out to stack some damned lumber in a trailer!” Dad went back to
loading as Pop turned around with an indignant wave of his hand. Pop made his
familiar, “Phew” sound which Mary recognized when her Grandfather got mad at
something.
It
always upset to see her Dad argue with her Pop but then she remembered her
brother’s warning. “Don’t let it get you down, Kidney Bean.”
Mary’s
brother always seemed to have a wide variety of nicknames for her which always
frustrated her” Kidney Bean, Strudel, Half-Pint, even Handle-Bars which made
fun of how her long curly hair wouldn’t lay down and would quite literally
stood up on the sides of head. A fact which she wished her big brother would
ignore but he was eighteen so Robby always seemed to notice and know
everything. Another fact which was frustrating to an eight year old in a very
small house.
Robby
had explained long ago how Pop and Dad was too much alike to work well together
but even though they argued like two bulldogs, they were actually quite happy
being around each other but would never admit it to each other. This made no
sense to Mary but she trusted Robby. Every now and then he said something that
wasn’t stupid.
Mary
loved to watch her father when they visited their Grandparents in Savannah. Dad
always seemed a bit lighter and happier even though he’d spend most of the day
tinkering on the Grandma and Pop’s house or down at the dock.
Her
favorite were the occasions when she’d get to go with Pop and Dad down to the
dock. Pop would spend the long stroll on down the walkway pointing out all
things a “low country girl” needed to know like how to recognize where Fiddler
crabs lived and the determine the difference between the droppings of a raccoon
from possums. Sometimes it was a little gross listening to Pop but he always
had a story about the water and the old man would seem to grow larger in
stature from his small, older frame as he shared these tidbits with her.
Her
Dad was always a little faster in pace and would always get down to the dock
first. Inevitably, her father would always stand out the edge of the dock,
hands on his hips, and stare out at the river. Mary always wondered what her Dad
was thinking. She would ask him but her father would just tustle her long brown
hair and say, “You’ll understand when you are older.”
When
you are older. Everyone was always saying that and it would irritate Mary. Even
though she was eight, everyone said how smart she was and how she acted much
older than her age. So why wouldn’t people just answer her darn questions?
Adults are frustrating….
About
that time Mary was snapped out of her thoughts by the familiar sound of their
1986 Aerostar pulling up in the driveway. Her Mom had gone to Kroger to get
some last minute groceries and hit the package store for tonight’s revelries.
Mary suspected Mom liked to go alone to get away from all the madness and
wished she could have gone off with her but Mom had said some last minute
shopping had to be down without “peeking eyes.”
Sure
enough Mom walked in with the telltale signs of many paper bags from Kroger
loaded up with groceries. There was also a small white bag from her mother’s
favorite fast-food place. Chick-fil-A.
“Well,
hello, Miss Squirrel (another family nick name. This one from her dad), here
help me with this,” said Mom as she handed a few groceries bags to Mary. Mary
took the bags and placed them carefully on the Formica kitchen table, she
turned around but her mother had gone out to the car for another load. Mary
followed. She wanted to catch a glimpse of any bags from the Oglethorpe Mall
which might give away potential Xmas presents.
Mom
figured out Mary’s ploy and stopped right in her tracks. “I think I got this,
Mary.” Said her mother. “Why don’t you go inside and help yourself to that last
of my chicken sandwich. I couldn’t finish it all and thought you might want to
help me out. Don’t tell your brother, though. I didn’t get him one.” Mary and
Mom smiled.
As
much fun as it was to visit Grandma and Pop’s house, it was small. They only
had five rooms and it got pretty cramped at times. Mary had also noticed how
both of her grandparents were getting older and harder to be around. Pop was
still a lot of fun but some visits he seemed to have a harder time moving
around. Her Grandma also seemed to always be forgetting things. She frequently
called her big brother “Robert” instead of Robby. Nobody ever called Robby that except on a few
occasions when Robby got Mom really, really mad.
Grandma
was also prone to acting irritable out of the blue. When this happened, Mom
would need to Kroger and sometimes take Mary with her. They’d sneak over to the
Mall and get Chick-fil-a sandwiches.
“Just
us girls,” Mom would giggle with Mary as they’d attempt to clink their Diet
Cokes together in a toast of Mother-Daughter confidence. Mary would take a
large sip through her straw and feel content with the world which was making
less and less sense as she was getting older.
Mary
sat down at the kitchen table, opened the white and red bag and pulled out the
half chicken sandwich. She opened the sandwich and pulled off the remaining
pickles which Mary carefully placed on her Styrofoam plate then went back to
eating the sandwich. Somehow the fact that she was eating something her big
brother was being deprived of made the fried chicken sandwich as delicious as
one of the gourmet meals Uncle Billy was always talking about like peasant
under glass or something called Drunken Hens. Mary finished as Mom came and sat
beside.
“How
was the shopping?” Billy asked as he took another sip of wine. He pointed to
his glass and then to Mom. Mary’s mom shook her head in an in emphatic gesture
saying, “Yes.”
Mom
replied, “It was crowded but what do you expect on Christmas Eve?” Grandma
noticed Billy pouring another glass. She began to show disapproval when Billy
distracted her by asking about where Grandma got the shrimp from.
“Oh,
I got mine from over at Tuten’s. They seemed smaller yet still had no problem
charging me 3.50 per pound. Can you believe?” Can you believe would always lead
into some rant about how things are so pricey now-a-days. Mary’s mom indicated
to pour more in her wine glass to Uncle Billy. He obliged and did the same to
his when Grandma wasn’t looking.
Mary went back to her sandwich and began
scheming on how to convince her big brother to “do her bidding.” A phrase he
repeated often about her. A plan was formulating when her Mom interrupted
Mary’s thoughts.
Mary’s
mother sat down beside at the table. “You feeling okay, Baby” You’re face seems
a little flushed.” Mary’s mother lightly brushed some of Mary’s hair out of her
face. Mary shook her head as if to say yes. Mom sipped her wine.
“You
getting excited about Santa coming tonight?” Mom asked. Mary shook head again.
“Great,
after dinner I am going to need your help getting Santa’s milk and cookies
ready. You going to be up for that? “
Mary
shook her head again to indicate she was.
Mom
sipped her wine again and snuggled up a bit to her daughter and smiled as she
asked, “Have you figured out what cookies to leave out for Santa? Oh, and use
your napkin, dear. Crumbs are going everywhere.”
Mary
wiped her face and carefully around her plate to catch all the
Chick-fil-crumbles. They were tasty sandwiches but could sure make a mess. What
cookies to leave out? This was a big decision. She knew she’d have to put out
at least one peppermint chocolate cookie to shut her brother up but what else?
“Maybe
some of my cookies I made with Robby. Oh and some of Pop’s fudge.” Mary
replied. Yeah, the fudge was a good idea. It was the only thing she ever saw
her grandfather cook in the kitchen but it was amazing.
“How
about some of our homemade fruitcake. You think Santa would like that?” asked
Mom.
Mary
thought to herself. What is it with adults and fruitcake? Every December about
the time Mary’s dad would start baking all his Xmas breads, inevitably homemade
fruitcakes would be made which Mary’s mom and dad would spend the remainder of
the holidays trying to give away but to no avail. Besides the only person who
ever ate that stuff was her father so why leave Santa any?
Mary
shook her head wildly as she said, No. Just cookies.”
Her
Mom smiled as if understanding where her daughter was thinking. “Okay, sweetie.
I’ll get the Xmas plate down later and we can wash it off before dinner.”
Mary’s
grandmother loved collector’s plates and had many from her travels with Pop
around the country. Grandma would proudly display them on the bookshelf in the
living room. There were plates form the Grand Canyon, New York City, someplace
in Atlanta called the Wren’s Nest (Robby explained that was the house of the
guy who wrote Uncle Remus), and of course the Xmas plate.
During
their travels during a decade Mary could never quite place, Grandma and Pop and
visited Santa Claus, IN. “It was the word’s first theme park!” Pop would always
exclaim. Grandma and Pop had bought a bevy of souvenirs which was still around
the house. Mary recalled the ashtray which sat on Grandma’s dresser even though
she didn’t smoke. Grandma’s prize souvenir was the plate she bought from the
Santa Claus Land gift shop.
Every
Xmas, Mary’s father, who was the only one tall enough to reach the shelf
without a chair (even though her brother said he could do yet Mary didn’t quite
believe him), would reach up and pull down the dusty plate. Mary and her mother
would go to the kitchen and gently hand wash then dry the plate. Nothing was
too good for the Big Guy up North and Mary wanted to leave a good impression as
only the best and the prettiest of the Xmas cookies would be left out for Santa
to snack on.
Mary’s
mother finished up her wine as Uncle Billy and Grandma went back to their
cooking duties. Mom smiled as she kissed Mary on the forehead, “ I have some
Xmas to wrap for your Dad and brother and maybe even something for a certain
pretty little girl who’s under the weather so keep them away from my bedroom a
bit, will you?”
Mary
grinned as her mother left the kitchen. She threw away her plate and napkin and
walked down the hallway into the living room with cookies in hand. Mary knew
that she could probably get her brother to entertain her but it would probably
now take both cookies to persuade him. Robby was always a sucker for cookies, especially
Xmas cookies.
Grandma
and Pop’s living room was the biggest room in the house. It was covered with a
thick and ancient blue shag carpet which had an old but comforting smell
whenever Mary would sprawl out in front of the ancient console television. At
least it was in color. Robby currently occupied the prime viewing space on the
floor. Wrapping paper was in an array behind him which Mary had to navigate to
nudge him.
“Whatcha
doing, Big Brother,” Mary tried to coo sweetly in a combined effort to tame her
brother into a compliant mood and gauge what secret weapons she’d need to pull
her scheme off.
Robby
answered his sister’s question with another question,” Is Dad around?’
Mary
shook her head to indicate no.
“Well,
in that case I am not wrapping presents but just killing time until Batman comes on Channel 28. And I am
enjoying doing it alone.” Robby finished hoping to brush off his sister.
Mary
quickly rerouted her attack plan. “Want to maybe watch a Xmas special while you
wait?” Robby and her Dad had jury-rigged the back of the old TV to operate the
family VCR which they had brought with them from their home in North Georgia.
Various boxes of videotapes were scattered on the sofa nearby the TV. “Frosty
might be fun and its short.”
“Naaah,”
was the one word response from her big bro.
Mary walked around his resting body to examine the family Xmas tree.
Xmas had some strange rules at her Grandparents. Grandma never wanted a real
tree like the one Mary had at home which made the house smell like it was
outside all the time. Grandma hated the needles falling on the floor.
Instead
Grandma and Pop had a very old artificial tree she had bought with her two sisters
one year down at Levy’s Department Store. Aunt Agnes and Aunt Ruby liked the
tree so much that all three sisters bought identical trees and would always put
them up on the same day and call each other. Both Agnes and Ruby had passed
away long before Mary had been born.
Robby had explained it was special to Grandma because it was
sentimental. It was an ugly tree but Mary had grown to find it special because
it meant she was in Savannah and Santa would be coming soon.
Underneath
the ancient tree was an even older Manger scene. This Manger was so much cooler
than the one Mom and Dad had back home with just a lonely Mary, Joseph, and
Baby Jesus. Grandma and Pop’s Manger was bigger and everyone was there from
several Shepherds, the Angel of the Lord which would hang on the Roof of the
Manger, and even several attendants to the Three Wise men. Mary would spend
hours arranging the right number of sheep around the shepherds and while
adjusting the cows and the little donkey with a broken nose.
Mary
began to adjust some of the toppled farm animals. Robby probably knocked them
down while adjusting his wrapping area. Robby wasn’t taking any hints or the
bait so a direct approach might work better.
Before
she could say anything, Robby asked her without ever taking eye of the
television. “What do you want Mary and how can I do it with as little time and
effort as possible?”
“It’s
Xmas Eve, you know what I want.” Said Mary
in a voice sounding much older than she was.
Still
staring at an Andy Griffith rerun and never locking eyes with his younger
sister,”Yeah, but we haven’t had dinner yet. You know the rules. No stories
until after Xmas Eve dinner.”
“Robby,
Uncle Billy is helping Grandma cook and he’s been drinking. We’ll be lucky if
we eat Xmas Eve Dinner before tomorrow morning!” Mary shouted.
Mary’s
older brother finally looked away from the TV and at his younger sister. He
smiled as he said;” I guess you do have a point, Kidney Bean.”
“Quit
calling me that! And for that matter I do want to hear the stories I’m bored.
You’re not doing anything but trying to avoid working with Dad and Pop. And I
brought you Xmas cookies!” Mary said in a last ditch effort of frustration as
she thrust the cookies at her brother.
Robby
looked upon the cookies near his face. His left eyebrow rose slowly which was
always a sign to Mary that she had his attention. “That’s one of those
Peppermint Cookies I like”, he said.
“Is
it?” as Mary started to walk away. “I just grabbed the first few I saw. You
want one?” Mary started to smile. The bait was on the hook.
“You
make it sound like a big deal, Mary. I can walk into the kitchen and get a
cookie too, you know.” Robby said in an attempt to seem flippant.
“Oh,
I know but Robby, you’d have to get up, walk in there and hope that Grandma
won’t stop you from “ruining your dinner.” Mary countered and smiled. She had
him.
Robby
pondered while looking at the cookies, shrugged and said,” When you’re right,
Mary, you’re right. It’s going to cost you both cookies though.”
“Yesss!”
thought Mary. “Ok, if that’s what it takes.” Mary went back to thinking. To be
so much older and smarter, yet so predictable. Shame really. Meanwhile Robby
polished off the first cookie and started on the fabled peppermint one.
Robby
started between bites, “OK, so Santa figured out early on that he needed some
help with more than just making toys and….”
“No,
not here. In the chair. “Mary pointed to their grandfather’s recliner back in
the corner near the bookshelf laden with their grandmother’s prize plates. Pop’s
chair was the most comfortable chair in the house. Many Saturday afternoons
while watching UGA football, Mary had heard her Pop fall sleep and snore
loudly. When he was out of the room, Mary often fought with Robby over who
would sit in it. Sometimes they compromised and shared it. Mary would curl up
in her brothers lap as he’d read comic books. She’d doze off while looking at
the panels with Spider-man or Batman fighting the Joker or Doc Ock.
Robby
sat down in the chair and Mary crawled into his lap. The siblings slowly
reclined back and snuggled in together to get comfortable. Mary rested her head
in the crook of Robby’s arm and coughed.
“You
OK?” asked her big brother.
Mary
said, “Yes, I’m fine. Please just start the story.” Growing a bit impatient.
Robby
began once again, “Okaaay, so Santa figured out pretty quickly that he’d need
more help than just making toys. Making the toys was the easy part. The trick
was getting them all out to the good little girls and boys.”
“Is
Tiny coming up?” Asked Mary hopefully.
Robby
replied a little irritated at being interrupted, “Yes, of course Tiny is coming
up but you’ve got to let me set up the story first, Mary. That’s how
storytelling works.
“OK,
so back in the old days it was easy for Santa to deliver toys. Times were
simpler and people were more trusting. Santa could just drop down the chimney,
fill the stockings and zip back up the flue to fly on to the next house. “
“I’m
still waiting to hear all about Tiny,” Mary mentioned impatiently
“He’s
coming, just chill, will ya?” Robby
continued the story.
“
The Twentieth Century got tricky. People began to think they were more
sophisticated than they actually are. Houses with chimneys got radiators, Apartments,
High rises, Kids staying up late watching The
Tonight Show. It all got very complicated for a guy whose entire work
schedule revolves around working in the middle of the night for one night only.
His
first problem was to create a secure work space. Santa has got a lot to do in a
home Not only does he have to make sure the right toys end up in the right
stockings not to mention leaving out the properly assigned loose presents laid
around for Xmas morning. Santa also has to drink that milk and eat all those
cookies left out for him. He can’t very well do that if he has to keep looking
over his shoulder for any kid who won’t go to bed. “
“Here
comes Feiffer!” Mary exclaimed as she held back from clapping her hands.
Robby
smiled at his little sister’s outburst. Her face was full of delight which
tickled him. “Yep, enter our first special elf, Feiffer.
Feiffer
actually started out as just a regular elf making toys. He did all right but it
wasn’t really his thing. Instead Feiffer would often lead all the other elves
into singing Xmas Carols to help pass the time. After a while, Feiffer got so
good motivating the elf work force, he started playing assorted instruments.
His favorite was the flute. All day long until it was quitting time, Feiffer
would walk around the workshop, going up and down the aisles playing Xmas music
on his flute.”
Mary
closed her eyes and pictured Feiffer in her head as he strutted up and down the
long rows of wooden tables filled with various toys. She always pictured
Feiffer as being a little younger than the other elves with a brownish red
beard and his elf hat drooping over his eyes. He’d also probably wear some
bright elf clothes because musicians always wore crazy outfits. She had seen it
on MTV.
Mary
began to wonder what Santa’s elves really do look like. Do they look like the
tiny pixyish elves she had seen in old copies of The Night Before Xmas or more like the cute funny elves in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer? Her dad
always said it didn’t matter and not to worry about it but how could she? These
elves had a lot of responsibility and Mary wanted answers. She began to focus
back on the story her brother was now very much into telling.
“Now
Santa began having problems dropping into houses because kids were staying up
late watching TV, or they were playing video games on their Atari 2600 which
all good Big Brothers always get, or even worse, some tried to stay up to take
snap a picture of Santa while he was working---“
Mary
interrupted,”You know you’re not getting an Atari for Christmas.”
“I
know but I can dream can’t I?”
Mary
continued,” I think Dad is planning on giving you another kiddie game like last
year for your state-of-the-art-video gaming system.” Mary raised her little
fingers in air quotes as she said the video game part and began laughing.
“Stop
it, it’s not funny.”
“Oh,
it was. Your face was great.” Mary’s laughter began to grow. “You so fell for
Dad’s trick. And the best part was how you had to act all grateful because
Grandma and Pop were watching and they actually thought you had gotten a really
cool toy. The best.” Mary’s laughter was now heightened to peals.
“Would
you knock it off?” Robby was getting irritated.
Mary
couldn’t stop, she was on a roll,” You deserved every bit of it especially
after how mean you were to me on Xmas Eve.” More laughter from Mary, “Remember
trying to convince me that one arm was longer than the other and everyone was
nice by not saying anything?”
Robby
began to chuckle a bit too,” I guess you’re right. It was a little funny. May I
continue?”
Mary’s
laugher died down and Robby started the story back. “So Santa needed a solution
because he needed to get into those houses but he also couldn’t very well throw
some knock out gas in there. The solution came along quite by accident.
One
day Santa was on the workshop floor overseeing the toy making progress when he
heard music. That’s when he saw our man, Feiffer playing up and down the
aisles.”
Mary
broke into the story,” Don’t forget the magic flute made from the special ice.”
Why
don’t you tell the story if you know it so well?” was Robby’s response.
“Sorry,
I’ll be quiet.”
“Anyway,
Santa saw Feiffer playing that flute and he got this great idea. What if
Feiffer came along and played soft music to lull the little kids to sleep? It
was a perfect plan except for one thing.
As
good as Feiffer was when he played the flute, it didn’t always work in testing
trials so Santa decided to give his elf pal some help.”
“A
magical ice flute that couldn’t melt.” Mary said.
Robby
grinned a bit. He was having fun making his little sister happy. “That‘s right.
Santa made a special flute from the magical ice up in the North pole. Because
it was magical, the flute would never melt and the music would make the kids
sleepy.
So
when Santa arrives at your house and if you try to stay up, Don’t be surprised
if you hear soft flute music playing, Greens
leaves, which is Feiffer’s favorite song. Before the second verse, you’ll
be fast asleep and when the morning comes—Presents courtesy of the North Pole.
If you’re good.”
What
do you get if you’re bad?” asked Mary, starting to giggle because she knew her
brother’s answer.
“Reindeer
poop. It’s cheaper than coal.” Both siblings broke into laughter as Robby
pantomimed Santa collected reindeer poop from the stables. “Whoa, Rudolph,
someone had Mexican last night! PeeYuu!!!!”
Mary
broke in between laughing, “That’s a job for Stinky the Elf.”
Robby,
laughing,” I like it. We’ll put him in next year.”
The
laughter eventually died down after more poop jokes and finally Robby got back
to business of telling his story to his little sister. “Well, there was another
elf that Santa took notice too but not because he such a big help. Rather it
was because this elf always seemed to cause more problems.”
Mary
grew excited because she knew who was coming but knew better than to interrupt.
Robby was in a good mood but better to not rock the boat.
“See
this elf was very small and that’s saying something because elves really aren’t
that big to begin with. Most elves are about the size of small children like
kindergarteners. This guy was little.”
Mary
had to ask because she loved the answer,” How little was he, Robby?”
“Why, this little guy was three apples tall
just like the—“
Mary
broke in smiling, “Just like the smurfs.”
“Yep.
Just like the smurfs.” Robby went on,” The elf’s name was actually Theodosius but
that was hard for the elves to say especially when they were in a hurry being
busy making all those toys and such so everyone started calling him, Tiny.”
Robby
started in on a describing what Tiny looked like but Mary faded off. She knew
this part by heart and begin to daydream on the white elf suit Robby would be
talking about and how it was fringed in bits of red and gold. Tiny looked even
younger than Feiffer but Mary guessed that was because Tiny didn’t have a
beard. Her favorite part was coming.
Robby
went on,” All the other elves liked Tiny very much even though he wasn’t very
good at making toys. Matter-of-fact, it was always a disaster. But as the days
went on Tiny would find tasks to do around the workshop. If a nail or a screw
fell between the floor boards, Tiny could always reach it.
And
he was always in good spirits or telling jokes to make the other elves laugh
and pass the time. Their favorite would be when it was Break time and hot cocoa
would be passed out.”
“And?”
Mary asked hopefully.
“And,
Tiny would make all the elves clap and laugh by jumping on the marshmallow and
doing one of those log rolls on it. The elves thought that was hysterical.”
Robby?”
asked Mary. “How did his feet not get sticky?”
Without
breaking stride in the story, Robby responded,” Simple, elves wear special
clothes that won’t get dirty. That’s how come they can make toys all day around
paint and sawdust and varnish and not worry about washing their clothes.”
Mary
nodded her head that would make a lot sense. If reindeer can fly and there’s
magic flute, it would make perfect sense to have special elf clothes so as not
to worry about laundry. A chore Mary hated almost as much as her brother. Their
dryer had broken last summer and Dad had not replaced it yet so Robby and Mary
had the job of hanging laundry on the clothes line outside. When it got cold,
their Dad solved the problem by creating a series of clotheslines upstairs so
the clothes wouldn’t freeze in the mountain air.
“So
where did Tiny sleep?” asked Mary. This was the part she loved the most. The
marshmallow was great but she loved picturing the next part of the story in her
head.
Robby
obliged,” Well, he started off sleeping on doll furniture and even had a little
house with a bed and a recliner and even a little plastic TV but he got lonely.
This was in the workshop and all the other elves had their own beds back in the
bunk house. Tiny would get lonely and cry.
The
other elves felt sorry for Tiny. It wasn’t his fault he was small so they took
turns letting him sleep with them back in their bunks. Unfortunately, because
Tiny was so small, the elves had to be careful because they could roll over and
squish him.”
“So
Tiny figured out he could sleep in their beard and be safe all snug as a bug in
a rug,” Mary broke in. “ And sometimes when the elves would smoke their pipes,
Tiny would entertain the elves by dancing around the smoke rings and through
them. He was very acrobatic and graceful. “
Mary
always loved this part and didn’t mean to interrupt Robby but she couldn’t help
herself. She could always picture how Tiny would wrap himself up in an elves’
beard or dance like a gymnast through the blue haze of the pipe rings. Mary could picture Tiny leaping off of the
different elves’ noses and doing somersaults around and through the rings while
all the other elves would laugh at how adorable Tiny was. Mary wished she hold
Tiny and cuddle up with him.
Robby
picked up the story again, “ Santa was having problems getting into houses now
that chimneys were smaller because of furnaces and many places didn’t even have
a chimney anymore like high rises.
One
day Santa was laughing when Tiny was doing his magical flips through the smoke
rings when the idea hit Ol’ Claus. “Why don’t I take Tiny with me to help out
getting into those houses without chimneys?
Sure
enough, Tiny was a whiz dropping down those tiny metal stove pipes and using
all his acrobatic skills to open locked windows. In no time, Tiny became almost
as important as Rudolph because of his knack of getting into tight places for
Santa.
So
every Xmas eve, as Santa loads up the sleigh he always leaves two very
important slots for Feiffer and Tiny to ride along just in case they are
needed. The end.”
“The
end.” As Mary clapped her hands while smiling dreamily. “I love Santa but I
really love hearing about those elves. It’s almost like you should make a Xmas
special, Robby.”
Robby
thought about it for a minute, “Maybe I will one day, Mary. I do want to learn
how to special effects in movies. It would be kinda cool to create one of those
stop motion Xmas specials like the ones form Rankin Bass.”
Mary
agreed, “Yeah, that would be awesome.”
“Robby?”
“Ummm?”
“Thanks
for telling me the Elves story even though it’s not after dinner yet. It was
fun.”
“No
problem, Rug rat,” as big brother cradled his little sis in his arms. Mary
leaned up and kissed him on his fuzzy cheek. Robby was perpetually attempting
to grow his own beard yet it always seemed to sprout in patches.
“Robby?”
Yeah?”
“Promise
me you’ll always tell me that story about the elves even when we get old and
have kids.” Mary said.
“Of
course, I’ll do it especially when that happens. Xmas is all about traditions
just like Dad always says. I love telling you stories and I know it’ll be even
more fun one day when we both have kids and spend Xmas right here in this
living room. “ Robby commented.
“Yeah.”
Mary commented as both kids stared off at the ancient Xmas tree. Their thoughts
their own as they both contemplated what tomorrow would bring them. Mary tried
to stifle another cough. She knew it would be a hard time falling asleep tonight.
EPILOGUE—Five
Years later
Thirteen year old Mary had just finished heading all the
fresh shrimp Grandma had gotten for Xmas Eve dinner. Grandma had to sit down
because she was tired.
“Jan, I mean, Mary, do you mind if we take a break for a few minutes
before starting on tomorrow’s oyster dressing? I am just a little pooped.”
Grandma asked.
“No problem, Grandma, “ Mary said. “It works out perfect
because I am a little tired too. You want me to pour you a glass of sherry? It’s
the holidays.”
“Just a little one, Jan, Mary,” as Grandma smiled sadly.
They both looked at the empty chair across the table. It was their first Xmas
without Pop and everyone was missing him terribly. Mary poured Grandma a drink
in the Xmas glasses while trying to hold back her tears. Grandma sipped her
sherry as she reached across the table for the Savannah Morning News.
She said,” Mary, I think I just want to read the paper
for a little bit. Do you mind? “
Mary
hugged her tightly,” Not at all, Grandma. There is something I need to do.” Mary walked over to the Tupperware containers
and reached in for two Xmas cookies. She made sure to get a peppermint cookie
with the Hershey kiss on top.
Mary
walked down the hallway into the living room where her older brother laid prone
on the floor in front of the ancient console television. He was lost in a rerun
of The Golden Girls. Estelle Harris
was making a smart ass quip when Robby turned around to see his little sister
with two Xmas cookies in hand.
Mary
nodded in the direction of Pop’s recliner, “Chair. Now.”
Robby
looked at his baby sister and understood exactly what she was thinking. Without
an argument or quip, the older brother got up to walk over to the chair and
began his story, “See Santa, figured out
real early…….”
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