Chapter 4, Part 5
Ariel decided that it was time to talk about
the letters. “I miss Grandma.”
Jana stroked her daughter’s hair. “We all
miss Grandma, Meliss. . . Ariel.”
It was time for the girl to make her move.
“Grandpa, do you have any old pictures of her when she was young? Photos?
Yearbooks?”
“Nope. Threw ‘em out years ago.”
Leo strained a lump out of his gravy and set
it on the side of his plate. “I especially miss her gravy.”
“Oh, I’d give anything to see some pictures
of her when she was my age. . .”
“She was never your age.”
“Would you mind if I dig around in the. . .
attic to see if I can find a memento or two of hers I could keep? Or the
basement...”
With the sound of the word “basement”
grandpa’s ears perked up and his eyes narrowed. He studied Ariel’s face a
moment, then let it pass. The girl decided it was time to change the subject.
“I remember the last time we talked before Grandma got sick. I had just broken
up with Palo Brzinski and was looking for some matches to incinerate his letter
jacket. Grandma Melissa brought out Grandpa’s old welding stuff and said the
sweetest thing to me before we torched it. She said: ‘Honey,’ she always called
me honey, she said ‘Honey, this is a difficult time of life for both of us.
Your hormones are just kicking in and mine are just kicking out.’ That’s what
she said.”
Dewey didn’t care to hear any more of this
hormone talk. He pounded a pudgy fist on the table, shaking the water glasses
and sending Fern’s tepid tea into her lap. “I want to open my presents!”
Jana tried the change the subject once more.
“How about we go around the table and tell what Christmas means to us?” The
groan that followed was the only thing the three children agreed upon since
they met. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Ariel, you first.”
Monty’s cell phone rang, excusing him from
the ritual. He pulled it out and shoved back from the table. “I was waiting for
this call. It’ll just take a minute. Hello, Bob.” Dewey continued his chanting
for presents, forcing Monty to shout over the receiver. “No, no. This is a good
time. Just shoveling on the old feed bag. You know, the Christmas dinner thing.
Yeah.”
“Tell Bob to call back later!” Jana was
losing it as Dewey raised his demands to match Monty’s volume.
“I said I want my presents!”
“Dewey!” Roy
The boy bit Grandpa’s hand, broke away and
all hell broke loose with him. He began screaming obscenities and law suites
along with furthers demand for presents. Shocked to the extreme, Grandpa
snatched the nearest blunt instrument within reach - which happened to be a
turkey leg - and began swinging it overhead like a war hammer. “There’ll be no
swearing in this house. You understand?” Ariel shrieked. Leo cheered for
Grandpa to let the “Dewdster” have it. Fern turned a shade redder than her lip
gloss, demanding an immediate apology and threatening to leave the house and
never speak to the family again. Roy
Jana seized the carving knife from out of the
turkey and let loose a bloodcurdling scream the likes of which had never been
heard in that house. “Aaaahhhh! This is Christmas! The season of love and
family and good will! Now would everyone just shut up, sit down and eat!” She
glared about the room, eyes bulging and head snapping from one potential victim
to another. One by one they cowered to their seats in submission. Monty was the
last to sit, gingerly pulling the phone to his ear and quietly signing off.
“Uh, Bob? I’ll have to get back to you on that one, Bob. You know, the uh...
the wife with the knife thing.”
A ringing doorbell broke the tension. The
entire family jumped up. “I’ll get it!” Jana aimed the knife at Leo. He nodded
without a word and backed away toward the door, keeping a wary eye on the
carving tool. They sat in silence until Leo returned. “The turkeys are here.”
“Tell the man to put them in the food baskets
in...” Jana began.
A surprised grin spread over Leo’s face. “No.
I mean the turkeys are here. The turkeys.”
“Yeah. Just have him put them...”
“No, mom.” Leo continued. “The turkeys. The
‘gobble gobble’ turkeys.” He flapped his arms to mimic a live bird.
Jana rose and walked toward the door. “So,
what’s the big deal? Just have him take them to the... the... “ She stood in
the doorway for only a moment gazing at the forty black beady eyes staring back
at her from the farm truck. She screamed. The birds gobbled back at her in
unison, sounding slightly more terrified of her than she was of them.
The stunned woman returned into the living
room and collapsed on the couch. “Merry Christmas.”
Ariel sighed. “This gravy doesn’t taste like
Grandma.”
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