Christmas Visitor by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Christmas Visitor
By Edward Drobinski Copyright © 2013 by Edward M. Drobinski All rights reserved
Don bursted through the front door and exuberantly yelled; ”Martha, my love. You’ll never believe what just happened!” He didn’t see his love in the living room, so he entered the master bedroom and saw her sitting up in bed reading “Through the Looking Glass.”
She slowly removed her wire rimmed glasses and placed the book in her lap.
She placed her bleary eyes on him, and he said; “The greatest thing just happened. I just met an angel.” He
paused a second and again spoke to her incredulous face; “Well, I think she’s an angel. She didn’t actually say that.”
He sat on the bed’s edge and kissed her pink cheek as she brushed back her long gray hair, still reserving comment. He nervously added; “I should have said that I’ve met another angel. I love you, Martha.”
She warmly smiled at his jittery playfulness as she continued to get a whiff of wine. She was a bit annoyed
that he had again imbibed after countless promises to the contrary. But she wasn’t surprised and thought that he had at least come up with a more inventive story. She sportively said;
“Did the angel share the same bottle?”
He took her hand, his 68 year old eyes smiling into her 68 year old blue ones, and said; “No. I was finished with the bottle by the time she showed up.”
She took a hard look at the crusted mud on his beard and clothes, now
flaking onto her and the bed and softly chastised him with; “Get off the bed, at least until you clean yourself up a bit.”
He didn’t move quickly enough and she gave him a little push.
He said; “Sorry, I should have thought of that. I just got so excited.”
He stood up and she eyed him saying; “If it wasn’t for that ancient face and silly beard, you’d look like an eight year old who just finished skating at the local mud hole.”
“Kids still do that?”
She sighed and said; “I really don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around any little kids.”
Don saw the wistfulness and felt the same way. It was 25 years since their last child left home, like his sister relocating to another part of the country. It was understandable as there weren’t many good jobs locally, but still the loud little busy kids were missed. It was so quiet now. He tried to
restore the upbeat feel he just had and confidently said; “Well, you will soon be seeing more kids than ever. So start brushing up on your grand-mothering skills.”
Martha just looked at him quizzically, so he continued on; “I know that I’ve said it before, but I’ve had my last drink.” He saw a look of cheerful disbelief on her, so caught himself and spoke a little more precisely adding; “Well, at least my
last excessive drink.” She wanted to believe that and fluttered her eyes, still a bit overwhelmed by this evening’s revelations.
Don excitedly continued; “The angel helped me. She said that instead of drinking and doing nothing other than dreaming about the past, I should do something useful today.”
“I’ll bet that’s not the first time you heard that.”
“No, it’s not. But I was so embarrassed not being able to stand up in the mud, and she was so young, it really registered this time.”
“Taking care of kids?”
“Kind of. There’s lots of old discarded junk down by the river. Some of it gets dumped and some floats down from God knows where. The angel said that it would be good for everyone if I take the old toys, fix them up, and give them to the local kids.”
“That would be nice. Can you do it?”
Don furrowed both brows, looked right in her eyes, and confidently said;
“Sure, I’ve been fixing up old houses all my life. I can fix anything.”
Martha reflected quickly on the accuracy of that pronouncement. She and he had lived in old fixer uppers all their married lives, including this five room adobe casita in Tedesco, New Mexico they had been occupying the
last two years. She said; “So, you’ll be doing that instead of drinking?”
He loudly answered; “Yes, starting sunrise tomorrow.” He paused, then sheepishly added; “You know, a glass or two here and there won’t hurt anything.”
Martha got up and put her arms around Don, forgetting the caked mud and said; “God bless us, baby.” They cuddled awhile, and then she cajoled;
“Just one thing, honey. Don’t tell
anyone else about the angel. That will be our little secret. All right?”
Just an hour earlier the situation was a bit different. Something woke him and it wasn’t the sound of a gong. It could have been the light snow pelting his face; it could have been the twenty-eight degree temperature; or, it could merely have been the right time to end his slumber. Don, again, found himself on his back at the edge of the Rio Grande River. Though it was
undoubtedly night time he could see no moon or stars, those being obliterated by the zillions of unique delicate objects now falling to earth. Don put a stop to his musing as something much more important was facing him. He had one too many again, fell asleep, and now would have to go home and face his wife.
What could he say that hadn’t already been said? What promises could he make that weren’t already broken?
What adventure story could he concoct that anyone would believe? Maybe it would be for the best if he just stayed where he was, and patiently waited for a new thought. Bad idea; the snowflakes were accumulating on his chest length white beard, melting on his face, and running down his neck. He never minded being wet or cold, but couldn’t tolerate both conditions at the same time.
As a prelude to the task of standing, he rolled onto his belly. His ungloved hands got in push-up position, but his 68 year old body didn’t co-operate. He thought; “Oh, great. Now I’ve got mud all over both sides.” He tried again, but this time his hands slid forward, producing the same result. Worse, the mud was now in his beard. A new tactic was called for. He again rolled onto his back and tried a sit-up. It worked! Now, could he do a leg-up? “With difficulty
at best”, he laughingly thought to himself.
He bent his knees, put his hands on the ground behind him, got his butt in the air, and then another disaster; his feet slid forward. He took a break and looked around. He was ten feet from the nearest tall tree. If he could get to it, he could probably use it to pull himself up.
He began slowly sliding over to it when he heard footsteps. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw her.
Her body was well dressed for early December in a bulky green jacket and heavy black pants. Her long blonde hair escaped from the brown woolen scarf wrapped around her neck and part of her face. She looked pretty and young, backlit by a now emergent full moon, but all women looked pretty and young to him at his age. He was dazzled at how the moon chose to sit right behind her head.
As he stared at her dumbfounded, she with an innocent and proper tone said; “What on earth are you trying to do?”
He thought the answer was obvious, and he was also embarrassed, so he gruffly replied; “What does it look like I’m trying to do? And, what are you doing out here alone at night?”
She shook her head from side to side and replied with a tone that suggested that she had just heard the dumbest
thing, saying; “I’m not alone. You’re here. And I suppose that either you’re trying to be a turtle, or you’re trying to stand up.”
Don thought a bit. Being a turtle might be preferable to his current state of affairs. It also sounded like it could be a lot of fun. But, he decided to keep that thought under his hat, at least for the time being, and answered; “I’m trying to get up and go home. I must
have fallen asleep. Who are you, anyway?”
“My name is Gabrielle, and it looks like I’m here to help you, first, with getting on your feet.” She put her left hand on her knee, stooped a bit, and offered him her right. He grabbed onto it with both hands and tried to elevate.
He slipped, but got his arms around her belly, lurched forward, and was standing. She took three small steps to
retain her balance, and exhaled;
“Whoompf.”
Don let go of her and said; “Sorry.”
Rather than making a standard response Gabrielle said; “You should be.”
Somewhat confused, Don blinked a few times, and said; “I beg your pardon.”
She repeated; “You should be sorry.
Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself. Not to mention others you’ve touched.”
Don indignantly said; “So, I had one too many today. I don’t need a lecture about it.”
“Today, yesterday, the day before yesterday, on and on.”
“We’ve just met. How do you know so much about me?”
“I’ve just chosen to make my presence known to you today, but I’ve seen you countless times.”
Don felt embarrassed, uneasy, quizzical and guilty. He said; “Well,
I’m not hurting anyone, but myself, and frankly, I don’t have anything else to do.”
Gabrielle raised her voice and said;
“You’re hurting Martha, you self-centered so and so.” She chose not to say the word that was in her mind.
Don sighed and was silent, wondering how she knew of Martha.
Gabrielle continued in a calmer tone;
“Try forgetting yourself once in a while. It’s so easy to discern the feelings
of others when you do.” When Don looked at the ground she thought it was the right time to add; “And as far as having nothing else to do, didn’t you ever consider helping anyone? Lord knows lots of people need some.”
Don said; “Nobody wants any help from me.”
“Sure they don’t. In your condition you’d give them more problems than they already had.”
“Are you from AA or something?”
“Look, Don, all I’m trying to say is that it would be nice if you considered Martha first, and there are lots of kids around here who need toys to play with.
There are loads of broken ones here.
Why don’t you take them home and fix them up? I know you can.”
Don said; “Mind if I call you Gabby?” When she laughed he added; “I think I’d like that. It’s probably healthier for me AND MARTHA, but the kids don’t come anywhere near me,”
Gabrielle said; “Now they have no reason to. Their parents probably tell them to stay away. But I assure you that if they see workable toys in your yard they will come.”
Don felt very sober, and nodded his head thinking; It’s worth a try. Martha will like it too.” He also became very conscious of being old, while someone so young had better insights. He hugged her, let go, and said; “Thanks, Gabby.”
Don started to walk home and Gabrielle went the other way. After each took a few steps she stopped and said;
“Don.” When he looked back in her direction she said; “I’m not as young as you think. Just remember to consider the other. It’s fun.” She warmly smiled, then continued on her way.
After a few steps Don thought; “She must have read my mind.” He turned around to ask her something, but she was gone. He continued his fifteen
minute walk home hearing only the flow of the river and the snowflakes settling on brown leaves.
Don was so excited that he had trouble sleeping that night. He tossed, turned, got up for drinks of water, and generally kept waking an annoyed Martha. When he saw the first glimmer of sunshine behind the mountain he got up for good.
He made coffee and looked out the kitchen window as he waited, and saw that last night’s snow had stopped, leaving a half inch layer; just enough to make two legged walking tricky.
After he drank a cup he decided that under the circumstances he needed a bit of fortification, and downed a small glass of red wine, hoping that Martha wouldn’t come out at that moment.
He was fortunate, felt a bit warmer, put on his heavy clothes and woolen
cap, and went out into the 25 degree air.
As he closed the door of the light brown adobe casita, some snow tumbled from the entrance overhang, settling on his head and shoulders. Undaunted, he continued slowly down the winding path to the river, thankful for the lack of wind, and sorry that some snow was melting on him, and running down his neck. The rabbits and squirrels scurried away when they saw him coming and hid behind cottonwood trees. They were
wet and facing a more difficult day than usual, their gathering activities hindered by the snow, and now this large beast.
“Can’t you move a little more quickly!” called out one impatient bunny and the others made small click-clicks of agreement. Not to be outdone, one of the larger squirrels climbed ten feet up his tree and said;
“Come on, you can do better than that.”, and his family stood on their hind legs
and shook their heads in approval. Don never had learned rabbit or squirrel talk, so he thought they were greeting him, said “Hi”, and waved to them.
“What a pleasant way to start out,”
he thought, as he picked up his pace a bit. He wondered if Gabrielle was watching, hoped she was, and headed north, toward a place that seemed to attract unwanted items. It was a piece of land that jutted out into the river, and was underwater when the tide was
high, and became a catching receptacle for things people threw in. He had seen it many times before, but wasn’t interested in anything there, sometimes annoyed that “slobs” couldn’t dispose of their junk properly. Today he was wishing that they threw in more, and that the precious stuff was all still there.
His lucky day continued, as when he got to the spot, it looked like it was all still there. With the rough terrain in
the area, he couldn’t bring in his little red wagon, so had to carry anything back home by hand. He took a red and yellow plastic tricycle first, as it appeared not to need much, if any, repairing. He thought it was a good idea to start out slowly, at least until he had re-honed his skills.
As he walked back home with the tricycle he was unaware of the eyes on him. It wasn’t Gabrielle. It wasn’t the local squirrels or rabbits. It was the
neighborhood kids, looking out their windows, wondering what Don was doing.
Don got back to his yard, went into the shed and found his old tools.
Martha watched him go to work on the old tricycle and was pleased. In no time his skills came back and with the addition of a few improvised replacement parts he had a working machine. To be sure, he sat on it and
pedaled around the yard. Now the kids thought that he had really lost it.
He walked back to the Bosque devoid of human company, but in the presence of many squirrels and rabbits who sighed as they scurried out of his way.
Comments of “Can’t you make up your mind?” and “He doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going,” were heard by those capable of understanding rabbit and squirrel, while Don focused on his new mission and heard click-clicks
and rustling leaves. He rapidly returned with most of a small plastic sliding pond. He went to his shed, took some screws and plywood and soon he had two toys. He really wanted to take a slide, but couldn’t come anywhere near fitting.
The kids’ interest started to outweigh their fear of a nut and the boldest of them, Ramon, took a casual stroll to Don’s property line wire fence. When Don looked toward him Ramon was
prepared to run while he quickly rattled;
“What are you doing with those old toys?”
“I was fixing them up, but I find that I no longer fit. I guess I’ll have to give them away. Interested?”
Ramon’s friends Sharon, Billy and Melissa were now two feet behind him and Melissa couldn’t contain herself and called out “Yes,” as she had always wanted a sliding pond.
Don said; “Come on,” walked to the gate and let them in. Through her window, Martha saw the activity and joined everyone outside. Melissa ran to the slide and climbed it, while Martha also ran to it, only for the purpose of support as it was not yet tested. Melissa said; “Whooo,” as she descended the curved slide and then prevented herself from falling forward at the end by using her hands for temporary balance.
“It worked,” cried a jubilant Don.
“It worked too well,” retorted a more cautious Martha.
“I’ll just rub it with sandpaper to slow it down,” and Don proceeded to do so.
Ramon, Sharon and Billy took turns on the tricycle.
Don happily and diligently worked on more toys and the kids made use of each, sometimes bringing them home
and sometimes storing them at Don and Martha’s place.
The flurry of neighborhood activity got the attention of two old biddies (what didn’t?) who lived together in a Victorian house built around 1910 and not maintained since 1940. People stayed away as it looked like a haunted house and the occupants, Petra and Olga, fancied wearing pointed black hats, though it was merely to cover their pointy pin heads.
They stopped the playing kids on the dirt road in front of their house and informed them that they looked ridiculous (they had the audacity) playing with inferior merchandise.
They pointed out the toys’ numerous imperfections and snidely laughed in the appropriate places. Their ploy, intended to end all frivolity in their environment, worked as the kids now saw the serviceable toys as laughable junk and returned them to Don’s yard.
He was working there on a dollhouse, when he saw them angrily leave the toys, Ramon saying; “Keep your stupid junk,” as they turned and left.
Don called out; “What’s wrong?”
Billy said; “They’re second rate.”
Sharon added; “Third or fourth.”
Melissa said; “It’s an embarrassment.”
Don was shocked.
Martha was watching and came outside to console Don. She was not
shocked, but disappointed. She massaged his slumping shoulders and said; “They’ll be back,” not thinking that her momentary encouragement held much truth.
Don lost interest in the dollhouse, went inside and lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. He slept and woke after dark. He checked to see that Martha was already asleep in bed, took a bottle of wine and walked to the river; each step increasingly more of a
stumble than a walk. He sat on the bank and watched the edges freeze in the dropping temperature. His head began spinning and fearful of falling in he lay on his side, snickering when he thought it possible high tide was on the way. He heard a rustle behind him, but didn’t feel like moving until he heard Gabrielle’s voice say; “Don!”
He turned and again saw her standing with the moon behind her. He
said; “Hi, Gabby. Got any more bright ideas?”
Gabrielle hesitated, finally saying;
“Feeling sorry for yourself is more disgusting than making second rate toys.”
She gave him a bit of a kick in the butt and he said; “Get out of here.”
Her tone became more apologetic. She said; “All right. I admit that I made a mistake.”
“Darn right.”
“So what did it hurt? It just cost you a few days’ work. You didn’t have anything better to do anyway.”
Don grimaced, held up his almost empty bottle and waved her away.
She said; “I admit that I got that one wrong. I haven’t been here in some time and things have certainly changed.
But I have another idea.”
Don offered her the bottle and said;
“Want a slug?”
Gabrielle said; “New times call for new solutions. I may be overstepping my bounds, but that’s my problem.
One can make things materialize by truly wishing them for someone else.
No one ever noticed this because they are too busy thinking about their own deficiencies, wishing things for themselves, despite the fact that it obviously doesn’t work. For some its psychiatric induced devil worship. The self, the self and the self. Just like you
right now. Martha is probably worried to death about you.”
Don felt a twinge of guilt, but was far from convinced. He said; “I’ve never been to a psychiatrist.”
“Then there is hope for you. Go home and make Martha rest comfortably.
Tomorrow go out and teach the kids what I’ve taught you.”
“And look like a complete fool. Show me that your ‘wisdom’ works.”
“Oh ye of little faith. All right. I’m going to wish something for you.” She closed her eyes as tightly as she could and Don stood up and went to her, thinking that she was having some sort of seizure. When Don touched her elbow Gabrielle opened her eyes widely and said; “See, you have regained your balance.”
Before Don could make a reply Gabrielle turned away and walked into a thicket of cottonwoods. Before
disappearing she turned and said; “Just do it.”
Flabbergasted, Don walked soberly home and got into bed with Martha.
She pretended to have slept through his excursion.
The next morning was particularly cold and the gray sky threatened snow.
Undeterred, Don ventured into the great outdoors, while the rabbits and squirrels still remained in their bunkers. After
wandering in the bleakness for a freezing hour, he saw Melissa bringing out the family garbage to a can at the road. He called to her, and though she first tried to avoid him, his persistence worked and she turned to him.
Don excitedly told her of his new
“toy manufacturing method.”
Melissa was certain that he was crazy, as the kids always suspected, and took a few steps toward her house.
Don gambled and said; “I can get you a new slide.”
Still a bit frightened, but intrigued, she decided to stop and wait one minute in the frigid air. Don was nervous. He was not sure if it would work, but like Gabrielle, he closed his eyes and thought only of Melissa. It took some concentration as he had difficulty forgetting about his own potential embarrassment as well as the possibility of being some kind of hero.
He thought that his mind went blank and when he opened his eyes, Melissa was sitting at the top of a brand new slide, ready to descend. She successfully did it and laughed. Don was elated. As he stood there and watched her slide and slide and slide, Ramon, Billy and Sharon came to investigate.
Melissa told them what Don had done, and they asked him to do the same for them. Don explained that his
participation was not necessary and that it was better if they learned to do it for each other. It took some convincing, but in not too long a time the kids were materializing each other’s favorite toy, brand spanking new and top of the line.
Don got his reward in seeing them happily play as the sun burned its way through the gloomy clouds, warming the land.
However, Don was always a worrier and today was no different. Though Gabrielle had not told him, he had a fearsome thought; “What can the kids answer if asked where they got their toys? They could be accused of stealing them. If they demonstrated the truth, they ran the risk of becoming mere servants to adults demanding their own coveted wishes. And if the kids couldn’t fulfill the adults’ needs, who knows what would happen next?” Before
he went home to tell Martha the exciting news he told the kids that when they were through playing that they should do the reverse process and make the toys disappear. They could always make them materialize again, the next time they wanted to play.
The kids seemed to understand, didn’t ask any questions and said that they would do exactly that. Don went home and materialized something for Martha and she returned the favor.
The kids did as promised and things seemed to be going extremely well. Don and Martha enjoyed watching them play and the kids would show off for them doing daredevil stunts.
However, the old biddies (possibly witches) were watching events unfold.
Petra and Olga took shifts at their largest window in an effort to find out the source of the largesse. With jealous, painstaking study they were correctly
able to see that magic was being done, but incorrectly concluded that Don was the magician. Neither having previously been accused of having a sharp pencil they had made prior observations that the source of their house’s minimal heat came from the sun because the upper room was always warmer than the lower and that their water supply came from the rain and snow as if there were water under the ground, the earth would obviously
collapse. This was fortunate for the kids, but a problem for Don.
Petra lured Don into their decaying house under the guise of Olga having been hurt. When he knelt to the still body of Olga on the floor, Petra slipped on handcuffs and the two proceeded to tie him to a chair. They insisted that he perform his “magic” for their benefit.
Don insisted that he had no “magic” in him that everyone else doesn’t also have, and he thinks that it would be
impossible to do anything for them, as that would require thinking only of them. Yuck, yuck and yuck. When it became obvious that they were not going to release him Don made a deal.
He said; “If you release me, I will produce whatever you want.” The non-magical witches had their doubts, but decided that Don was honest enough to live up to the bargain if they untied him and that there seemed no other approach to get their way.
They undid his bonds and informed him that they wanted a new Lamborghini.
Don said; “Okay,” and tried to focus only on Olga. His difficulty came from clearly seeing her steely, cold, mean eyes and the hair protruding from the warts on her face. He gave up and tried to focus on Petra, this time keeping his eyes closed. Olga screamed when she saw a new, silver Lamborghini in their driveway.
The two took a ride through town, waving and yelling to everyone they didn’t know to make sure that they were seen in their sleek, fast, status car.
Petra got it up to 120 MPH as they laughed and watched the people they thought were envious. Paying attention to things other than driving caused Petra to slam into a 120 foot cottonwood tree and the two mercifully died instantly.
Other would-be, non-magical witches heard various versions of the story and decided to make Don produce what they need. Don learned of this through the internet savvy kids, and it prompted him and Martha to leave.
The kids performed their magic judiciously and played on the grounds of Don’s empty house.
A five year old boy, Timmy, with multiple sclerosis, had been watching all the action from his window in the
room where he had spent most of his life.
He never went out and spent his days and nights with his furry white bunny, Snookers. He loved the bunny and wished that it didn’t have to spend all its time in one room like him. He knew how bad it felt and didn’t want his lifelong friend to endure the same punishment he experienced with his inability to walk and play. He cried as he looked at Snookers and wished with
all his might that his only friend could have a life.
Snookers, the rabbit moved his legs and Timmy let him outside, but the boy couldn’t follow on his crutches. The puzzled rabbit spent two days near the house waiting for his friend, not understanding why he was put out. The boy saw him and wanted to chase him away so that Snookers could live a full life with the other rabbits. Timmy tried to go outside and fell in the snow.
Snookers now understood and wished that his friend, Timmy, would be well.
Timmy stood and took four unsure steps, laughing and crying at the same time. Leaving the crutches in the snow, he walked the rest of the way to waiting Snookers. They heard carolers singing
“Oh Come All Ye Faithful” reminding them that it was Christmas morning.
Gabrielle watched from a lofty perch in a tall oak tree and thought that it
was great. She kept her horn in her back pocket.
Only the Beginning
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