I’ve been thinking about the prompt a lot since I read it. The things I think I need are not things one would traditionally as for as gifts: 2 sides of my house need siding, gutters, a fence for my front yard. Vacations, health, wealth, while nice, these are not gifts that I want to receive. Maybe a new spine? I’d like to meet a couple people but my loved ones can’t make that happen. I just share the next phase in my dialogue can change this posts.
Oscar lay on the couch. His stomach felt like a rock. Each time he moved, that rock moved and it was painful. How he just wanted to hold Esther. What a way to spend Christmas Eve.
He should call her. It hurt too much to get up and get his phone. Why? Why did he do this to himself?
Music filled his head. He and Esther were dancing. Where? He wasn’t sure. It looked like they were inside a cloud. It was just the two of them. He laid her backwards. Though he couldn’t see (just that cloud), he could hear the music; he could feel all the things he was doing to her. She was allowing him to explore. The song started playing again. Sweetly she whispered in his ear, ‘wake up my love.’
Someone was calling. When he moved, his stomach hurt. But to his delight that rock was gone.
“Hi,” he half moaned, half yawned.
“I’m sorry. I woke you.”
“I was dreaming about you.”
“Me?” He could hear the playfulness in her voice.
“I guess you trying to call me transferred to my dreams and we were dancing.”
“Do you have plans tonight?”
“No.”
“Wanna go ride around and look at Christmas lights? I’m made a few things we can nibble on when we get back. If you want to.”
Nibble, he thought. He knew something he wanted to nibble on. But yeah, he wanted to be with her. “Let’s do it.”
When he walked through the door, his stomach seized. It smelt so good. He tried his best to hide his pain. When she touched his face, he just closed his eyes, soaking her in.
“Are you sure you feel up to this?” She asked sweetly.
“Yes.” He put his hand over hers before removing it to kiss the top of it. “What have you fixed?”
“Grape jelly and chili sauce meatballs, you may not be able to eat. A cheese ball and pigs in a blanket. I have chips, popcorn. I tried to make fudge but I don’t know if it’s any good.” He hugged her up. “When we get back, we can watch Christmas movies if you want to. What’s your favorite one?”
“You’re gonna laugh at me.”
“Try me,” she teased as she put on her coat. Handing Oscar her keys.
“Trading Places.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever watched that.”
“Your turn.”
“Die Hard.”
They were now standing in the drive way. Oscar had his head down, fiddling with her keys. “We don’t have to go.”
He looked up at her with a sly grin on his face, “Die Hard?”
“What?” She teased.
“We could have a Die Hard marathon?”
He held the door open for her. She turned, kissing him softly, “we could.”
He stopped behind the jeep. Dear God, he pleaded. Help me.
The drive into town was a quiet one. Oscar was back in ‘that place’, Esther observed.
It took them awhile to find people that had actually decorated. But when they did… He took her to a community the locals called ‘Snob Knob’.
“Why?”
“They have big homes and expensive vehicles.”
“But not all rich people are snobbie.”
“I know.”
This community had done a fine job decorating. She guessed because it was Christmas Eve, everyone had the same idea. There was a lot of traffic in this area. If you could dream it, these folks did it. One family was even giving out hot chocolate.
“How big is this community?”
“Maybe a mile back through here.”
“Feel like walkin’?”
They walked hand in hand, sipping at their hot chocolate. Picking out their favorites. Best decorated house, most original, classiest, coolest, hardest to decorate, and of course most over the top. In the middle of it all was a tree. Just a regular tree someone had covered from limb to limb in white lights.
She cuddled closer to him. “I think that is so romantic.”
“Romantic?”
“Yeah,” she laid her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of it. Light snow started falling as they stood staring at this romantic tree. “To appreciate the beauty of a snowflake it is necessary to stand out in the cold.” She caught one in her hand.
“Aristotle.” He commented. She hugged him up. Oscar thought how soft she was. How good she smelt. If it was possible for a man to melt, he might. Was she God’s answer to his screaming?
It was three days till Christmas. And every day, his family was blowing up his phone wanting something. Things he would not supply even if he had the means. A new van. New tires to go on the truck. Pipes froze and busted. You name it, they wanted it. Each time, he gave them a community resource that might or might not help them.
He was pacing his living room floor. Every year on Christmas he felt duty bound to endure dinner at his mother’s. No matter how he felt about her, this was the woman that brought him into this cruel world. His brother would be there with the circus that would never leave town family of his. They always wanted money. Money! Money! Money! It was like trying to cover a knife wound with a band aid. If he let them, they would bleed him dry. And this year Doris would be there. He had no intentions of hookin’ up with Doris. His heart was elsewhere.
Why even bother with presents? He asked himself as he paced across the floor. It isn’t like they give a crap.
He jerked on his coat and headed out the door. Why indeed?
He had eventually made himself sick with all his worrying. He had their little presents; knowing full well that they would talk about him when he left. All their angry words filled his mind. Cheap ass bastard. You would think on a teacher’s salary he could afford real presents. He didn’t get us a damn thing we wanted. You know that his truck and house are paid for, why’s he being a selfish ass? My kids need more than a damn toy. What’s this shit all about? Christian my ass!
God help me! He screamed in his mind.
“Hi,” Esther opened her door with that bright smile of hers. “Come in.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her, then held her for a moment. “I’m sorry.” He rested his head on her forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“Each time you kiss me, are you gonna say ‘I’m sorry.’”
“No, I shouldn’t have barged in like this.”
“All is forgiven.” She took his coat. “Banana bread.”
He smelt the air. The warm smell caused his stomach to growl and cramp at the same time. So much so that he almost buckled to the floor. He stood there frozen, holding his stomach, just trying to breathe.
“O, what’s wrong?” She caressed his face. “Can you make it to the couch?” He didn’t move. She spoke softly as she held on to his shoulders. “Step to your left.” As he did, daggers stabbed him in the stomach. He put his hand over his mouth. They stood there for a long time. When he removed his hand from his mouth, she spoke again. “One more step to the left.” It wasn’t daggers this time. It was a wave of nausea. His knees buckled under him; but he was able to grab onto the arm of the couch for support. “See how close you are?”
He did see. If he was going to be sick, he might as well do it right. He lay down unable to move any farther. She wiped his face with a cold cloth. The thought did come to her mind whether or not he even knew she was there.
After several hours, he stirred, sniffing the air. “Did you say that was banana bread?”
She giggled, “it was fresh out of the oven. And I assume you’ve had nothing to eat today?”
“No.” He sat up and pulled her into him. He buried his face in her neck. “You smell so good.”
“Thanks.”
As he let go of her he said, “let’s eat.”
As they sat at her table with their warm bread and cold milk, his mind wondered back to the horror that was Christmas.
Oscar looked lost again. He had gone to ‘that place’. “Where are you?”
Should he ask her? Why should he put another human through his 10th level of hell? Ask, that voice spoke inside his head.
“Would you be interested in going with me to Christmas dinner at my mother’s? I realize this is short notice, but I haven’t had the courage to ask you before now. Before you say anything, I just want you to know my brother and his family live with my mom.”
“Don’t forget Doris,” she smiled reaching across the table and held her hand out to him. He took it. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Tell me something.”
“I’ll try.”
“We are not supposed to worry. We are to let Jesus burden our load. How?”
“I always try 1 Corinthians 10:13, no temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”
“How did you get so smart?” He tried to smile but couldn’t.
“The school of hard knocks.”
“How’s your stomach?”
“Doing flip flops around my ass.”
She smiled, “I know that shouldn’t be funny, but it is. Oh,” she got up going into her bedroom. Coming back with a book. “If you feel up to it, I think everyone in America should read this book. Even if you don’t have someone close to you that has a mental illness.” The book was ‘Crazy’ by Pete Early. ‘A father’s search through America’s mental health madness’. G. P. Putnam’s Sons 2006. “This book helped me a lot with trying to understand what my grandparents might have went through with my dad. If you don’t want to read it, no hurt feelings.”
As they sat down for dinner, she put popcorn in the microwave. After dinner, he produced the five bags of cherry candies he bought and a box of cordial cherries.
“How long should we make the string?” He asked.
“How tall you think that shrub is?”
“Let’s find out.” He almost ran outside, across the road and stood by the tree. It came to his chest.
“What do you think?”
“If we make it as tall as you with your arm stretched over your head it should be long enough to wrap around the tree several times?”
About that time, Chet pulled up. “What’re you kids doin’?”
“Being neotenous,” Oscar laughed. Chet wrinkled his brow.
“Come over, I’ll feed you.” Esther suggested.
“She made the best chicken and dumplins.”
Chet sat down to a piping hot bowl of chicken and dumplins and a piece of corn bread. “Bell is going to be so jealous.” He moaned as he took his first bite. “You weren’t kiddin’ man, these are great. So what does that word mean?”
“Exhibiting retention of juvenile characteristics in the adult,” Oscar smiled.
“Thanks, I’m glad you like them.” Esther blushed. “You can take Bell some if you’d like. I made more than we’ll eat.”
Chet’s mind was going in a hundred different directions as he ate his dinner. That black hole in Esther’s past bothered him. But Oscar looked happier than Chet had ever seen him; and if Esther could get him to eat, good for her. His biggest fear was that his friend was going to get hurt.
Esther put a big bowl of popcorn on the table as Oscar poured the candy cherries into another bowl. She placed a roll of fishing line and needles on the table as well.
He opened the box of cordial cherries, “dessert?”
“Don’t mind if I do?” She giggled as she ate a piece of the candy.
He looked at Chet and winked, causing his friend to smile. “We are going to make a garlan out of popcorn and candied cherries to go around that little shrub by the garage.”
Chet nodded, “I am understanding now.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Esther went over to the freezer. “Check these out.” In a baking sheet, she had put six cookie cutters, filled with water, ribbon was coming from under each one.
“What do we have here?” Oscar asked as she put them on the table.
“I am hoping ornaments for the tree.”
As they sat there, they told stories about Christmases past. And what got the garlan project started. Chet took a picture of them and sent it to Bell. Then took another picture of the dumplins and told her what he was bringin’ home for dinner. Chet read her reply out loud, ‘It’s a good thing you’re bringin’ me some of them home. I’d hate for you to get divorced over a dumplin’. He laughed.
After the garlan was long enough (they hoped), they took it and the baking sheet outside. It was the right length. The ornaments turned out perfect and they had six decorative shapes to go on the tree. They posed by the tree for Chet. She took one of the two friends as well.
As Oscar was leaving for a meeting at school, he stood in his yard eyeing the tree as his SUV warmed up. It was a cute little tree. He was amazed at how much fun it was. He took a picture of it in the morning light, just in case the sunlight got hot enough to melt the ornaments away. He had to admit that was the most fun he had ever had decorating a tree. There were no fond memories of Christmas. Well, now he had one.
This time the word neotenous didn’t bother him. Was it just a matter of getting used to saying it?
Oscar was eating at his leftover dumplin’s when his phone vibrated. Chet had sent him the pictures from the night before. He had a great time and it showed on his face. Bell had also sent Esther a message that the dumplins were amazing. Oscar made the picture of him and Esther his Christmas screen on his phone. Then sent the pictures and the message on to Esther, with a message of his own.
‘I knew that I enjoyed last night. But I never knew how much until Chet sent me the pictures. Thank you so much. I feel like it’s a start in the right direction in helping me get Christmas back. It was so much fun.’
Poetry & More 