Cornucopia (9 page)

Looking over to the closet, I saw a pair of investigators attending to Margie’s body and assumed that everything was alright.

“Would you please undo these stupid handcuffs?” I pleaded.

“Yeah sure, the Chief is on his way here right now. But while we’re waiting, why don’t I do something about those handcuffs. I found the key in Dr. Bester’s pocket before he was taken away.”

I waited patiently for Gordon to uncuff me and then help me rise from the chair. Looking back, I was pretty sure that I would never be able to sit in a dentist chair again. Then I remembered that my tooth had never been crowned and felt the Novocain was beginning to wear off.

“Officer Gordon, could we see you in the other room for a moment,” one of the investigators asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Gordon turned to say, and then he turned back to address me. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Go,” I said, managing to make myself understood through the use of the monosyllable.

Gordon started to walk away but then turned back one last time before leaving the office.

“By the way, merry Christmas, Boston.
Looks like you got the best Christmas present ever, the opportunity to see another new year.”

In the end my day was truly made when Dale Gordon left the room and Blue entered it to come give me a kiss on the face.

A Christmas
Without
Carol

Blue.

My Aunt Carol was dead, to begin with. Nothing else could have convinced me to spend my Christmas Eve driving into the mountains to spend Christmas Day with my Uncle Albert. You see, Uncle Albert was a notorious humbug when it came to
Christmas,
he always had been and most likely always would be. I could see no reason to ruin my holiday trying to bring joy to the joyless.

“This will be the first Christmas that my brother Albert will spend without Carol,” my mother had argued. “I’m determined that he will spend it with family.”

And so Alex and I were drafted to be part of the family assigned to getting Uncle Albert through his first Christmas alone. Alex had even been so unlucky as to win the honor of driving, owing to the fact that he owned the nicest car.

Don’t get me wrong, I had great sympathy for Uncle Albert’s plight. He and his wife had been very close, Carol being his best and possibly only friend. And Aunt Carol had been a very sweet lady. I had memories from my early years of spending time with Aunt Carol, helping her to bake cookies in the kitchen while Uncle Albert worked out in his shed out back. You see, Uncle Albert was never particularly fond of kids and having me around only tended to make him nervous and upset.

Aunt Carol’s passing had not been an easy one. After several months spent suffering from colon cancer she had ultimately succumbed to the debilitating disease one night while Uncle Albert held her hand. I heard of this afterward from a visiting nurse since my uncle refused to say a word about her death. Though it didn’t seem possible, Uncle Albert had become even more morose and withdrawn after Aunt Carol was gone. He now seemed to do nothing but work and even argued that we should stay away for Christmas because he might be out working on a plumbing job. But my mother had insisted and she can be as stubborn as a pit bull worrying at a bone when she gets a plan in mind.

“So, remind me one more time why we’re spending our Christmas with a man who would rather we didn’t come and would even more rather that Christmas was never invented?” I asked, turning in my seat to address my mother.

“You know perfectly well why we’re doing this, Ms. Chloe Boston,” my mother replied. I always knew that I was in trouble when she used my full name. “We’re Albert’s family and this is what family does when one of its members is in trouble.”

“And what trouble is Uncle Albert in exactly? He seems perfectly happy working and keeping the holiday in his own way.”

“But he doesn’t keep the holiday, that’s the point. So, we’re showing up on his doorstep for Christmas to save his immortal soul before it’s too late. You should view it as your good deed for the season. Don’t you agree, Henry?”

“Don’t get me involved,” my father replied, “I’m just along for the ride.”

I spun back around in my seat and rolled my eyes at Alex. He smiled back at me goodheartedly.

“Well, all I have to say is that I’m not going to let Uncle Albert ruin my Christmas. I’m going to have a jolly holiday with or without him,” I concluded.

We rode the rest of the way to my uncle’s home in silence. At least the scenery was pretty along the way. The first snow of the season lay heavy on the ground and the drifts beside the road grew larger the higher we climbed into the mountains. The sky was clear blue and the tall pines a verdant green. I breathed a sigh of contentment as I leaned my forehead against the glass of the window and watched the Christmassy landscape pass by.

I felt the joy drain from my life as we pulled up in front of Uncle Albert’s home. The place was small but had been cozy and warm while Carol lived in it. Now it only looked old and in need of repairs and a new coat of paint. We climbed out of the car and gathered our Christmas gifts from the trunk, such as they were. I’d brought a Christmas wreath and had baked some pies for Christmas dinner which Uncle Albert had been ordered to prepare. My mother had brought a mystery gift in an old beat-up cardboard box. She refused to reveal the contents of the box and so far my attempts at detecting its contents had proven futile.

Uncle Albert did not come to greet us. I shared Merry Christmas wishes with a group of kids who were playing in the next-door yard. They stopped playing and watched in solemn wonderment as we walked to the front door of my uncle’s home. It felt almost as if they were watching a funeral procession pass.

Uncle Albert opened the door after we knocked a second time.

“Oh, it’s you,” was his greeting. “I suppose you should come in.”

Uncle Albert stepped outside to make room for us to pass through his door with our burdens. He made no attempt to help. My mother gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek as she passed. My father shifted the cardboard box he was carrying and shook Albert’s hand though I knew he was sure that Albert had never liked him. I introduced Alex who was carrying the pies and the two nodded their heads to one another. Albert noticed the kids playing out front when he was about to follow us inside and close the door.

“You children
git
now!” he hollered.

The children, who had continued to watch us in wonder, scattered like the four winds. I had the sense that this wasn’t the first time my uncle had had words for them. Uncle Albert then followed us inside where we all stood in the living room wondering what to do. There were no Christmas decorations in sight, definitely no tree, and the house was cold.

“Go ahead and unburden yourself and have a seat,” Uncle Albert said.

“Here, Uncle Albert, I brought you a wreath,” I said, extending the Christmas wreath to him.

My uncle refused to accept the gift. In fact, he looked like he thought the thing was made of poison ivy.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” he asked.

“Hang it on your door, silly,” I replied. “Here, I even brought you a door hanger.”

Still my uncle refused to accept the gift.

“I know, I’ll hang it for you,” I suggested
to break
the uncomfortable stalemate.

Opening the front door, I slipped the hanger over the top of the door and hung the wreath on it. I noticed that the children who had once more gathered out front watched me suspiciously. I waved before closing the door and returning to the living room. Everyone was seated with their hands clasped in their laps, except for Uncle Albert who stood glaring down at them.

“So, how are your preparations for Christmas dinner coming along?” my mother asked to break the awkward silence.

“I’m thawing the bird. I have plenty of food—no one should starve. Cost me a pretty penny, all that food did. I’m pretty sure the local market raises their prices just for the holidays. I have half a mind to get some of my money back from the crook that runs the place.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting,” my mother said in order to put an end to the tirade that was surely brewing.

“We brought pies,” Alex said and it was only then that I noticed he was still holding the pies.

“I’ll take those to the kitchen,” Albert said, relieving Alex of the burden. “Besides, I have to call the shop. I left Bob, my assistant, in charge of the place today, but he’s always falling asleep on the job. I’ll need to wake him up and tell him it’s time to close up shop and go home.”

Albert started to leave but turned back for one last word.

“I’m telling you, it’s hard to find good help these days.”

And with that he was gone. I made strained faces and pretended to tear my hair out and chew my fingernails while Albert was gone. Eventually he returned to stand once more in the corner.

“Well now, Lucy, would you like to give Albert your present?” my father asked, picking the box up from the floor beside the sofa where he’d laid it.

“Yes, let him open his present,” I said with interest. “I’ve been wondering what this could be since I first saw it.”

“You didn’t have to bring me a present,” Albert said. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“But I wanted to, Albert. Besides, I think you’re going to like it.”

“But you didn’t have to
is
all I’m saying.”

My father set the box on the coffee table and opened the lid. He then pulled out an 8-millimeter movie projector and several reels of film.

“Oh boy, home movies,” I exclaimed, clapping my hands and smiling broadly.

“What’s this?” Albert challenged.

“They’re movies from our youth,” my mother explained. “I thought that it might be fun reliving some of our old holidays and other good times past.”

“We can project the movies right here on this wall,” my father pointed out.

Dad then searched for a power outlet and plugged in the projector. He attached a reel of film to the projector and fed it through the machine to the take-up reel. He then turned off the only light, plunging the room into darkness.

“Don’t stand around being so stiff and formal, Albert,” my mother scolded. “Here,
have a seat
next to me,” she added, patting the sofa cushion beside her.

Albert grudgingly took a seat beside his sister and she placed an arm across his shoulders. Dad turned on the projector and the film began clicking as it played.

The film started with scenes of a baby in a stroller being pushed by a little girl.

“Who’s that, Mom?” I asked.

“That’s me pushing Albert in his stroller,” my mother replied.

I couldn’t believe that my mother had once been so young, and she was adorable too. The scene switched to my mother holding Albert in her arms. The fact that he looked like such a happy baby surprised me to no end. Next
came
pictures of my grandparents, who had passed away years ago, pushing Albert in a swing. Little Albert laughed the whole time and though there was no sound you could almost hear him calling to go higher. As the movie progressed the children grew older. They were shown on vacations where their car drove through a tunnel burrowed in a giant redwood, and hikes and swims abounded. Albert was shown in a Cub Scout uniform proudly holding a little plastic trophy he had received for winning the rocket derby. Christmases were seen when the kids couldn’t wait to tear into their presents. New bikes and skates appeared. Graduations were chronicled.

Looking away from the images, my eyes soon adjusted to the dark. I looked to Uncle Albert’s face and was surprised to see that he was smiling. Furthermore, if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a tear on his cheek just below the eye.

It wasn’t until their later life was chronicled that things went terribly wrong. The image appeared on the wall without warning and struck everybody in the room like a slap. There was Albert dressed for his high school prom with none other than Carol Cummings, my Aunt Carol, on his arm. Dad fumbled in the dark for the controls to the projector but it was too late, the damage was already done.

“This is silly, sitting in the dark watching movies from a time we’ll never see again,” Albert said, rising from his seat.

Dad eventually managed to turn off the projector. Alex reached over and flipped the light back on. Albert stood fuming and my mother had started to cry. Just then a phone rang in the back part of the house.