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by William L Casselman


  “The business is looking that bad, Colonel?”

  “No, but we're right at that fine edge between the black and red inks…. a part of winter, Clay. Don’t let it worry you, seven more months and the fourth of July party will be a smasher. We’ll have more sales, people are happier, and our main shop is busy with clunkers breaking down. I just wish those people in Detroit would go back to making their engines the way they used too. One-hundred-thousand miles and the beast was ready for the heap, but now they’re going two hundred-thousand miles or better. Bodies are junk, but the mechanical side is outstanding. Too bad the union laborers have their wages jacked up so high the average customer is now paying for cars what we used to pay for houses fifteen-years ago. That’s completely absurd, but it’s what we’re stuck with.”

  “I know, sir. I’m still amazed at what I paid for on that one-year-old used Camaro, and that was with the employee and veteran’s discount. I can’t help but think we’re only hurting ourselves in the long run. Higher wages at the plants brings higher costs to the dealerships, and it’s passed on down to the car buyer. No one wins that way.”

  “I forgot to ask, have you had any problems with the car?” Silas heard his name being called and he glanced over his shoulder to see Sally standing in the doorway that led into his inner office. “I’m sorry, Clay, I’m being summoned. We’ll have a chat later.”

  He had walked the new car line for several days, but couldn’t find anything that satisfied him. He knew he needed wheels, mainly because it would look funny for him to be using a taxi all the time and he really didn’t want to invest in a new ride, knowing he’d be leaving Alaska again once this case was wrapped up. Then his eyes widened in delight one morning when an Army private came into the dealership to return his one-year-old Camaro. A former US Army E-5 Sergeant, he had bought the Camaro when he reenlisted. But then he got himself into trouble, lost all of his rank and could no longer afford the car payments or locate anyone who could purchase the vehicle from him. He was doing a voluntary repossession, which would be harmful to his credit for the next eight years, but he had little choice. He told the Sales Manager that with the loss of his rank, he couldn’t even afford the monthly car insurance payments. By late afternoon the same day, Clay owned the navy blue Camaro, with black interior and a killer sound system capable of shaking the whole vehicle with the bass speaker in the trunk. It was a four-speed automatic and came with a big block eight-cylinder engine, which the GI had added to equal the power of four hundred HP. The tires were custom ordered L-60 from St Louis, with vintage chromed Crager-Mags, usually seen on the Camaro’s of the late 1960’s to mid-1970’s. Clay was in love, and he would find a way to ship it where ever he was going or store it near the John F Kennedy School for Special Forces. Clay knew of several of his Green Beret and Delta Force buddies who had their cars stored in heated garages, protected by twenty-four-hour security.

  The Party came and went, one week before Christmas and when Silas finally got all the receipts for the party piled up on his desk and totaled them up, his face took on a certain pale ghoulish-like look; as if all the blood had suddenly rushed out of his head and poured from his pores to puddle at his feet. He pulled from his desk the written estimate Pike’s Restaurant had provided him in Mid-November, which was the opportune time to reserve a location for a Christmas Party. He compared the estimate to his actual costs and saw that his attempt to save money had cost him an extra one thousand-six-hundred and ninety-four dollars. This did not take into account the employee gifts; which was always an eighteen to twenty-pound frozen turkey or ham dinner package from Fred Meyer’s Meats and fifty-dollars in gift certificates from Walmart. General employees did not receives cash bonuses, but management did, and this year he provided along with the dinner packages a five-hundred-dollar bonus for each member of his management staff and this included his car dealers. There were some years his bonuses were much higher, and he recalled one year he was able to give his management people each two-thousand and five-hundred dollars. But those days were long ago. With the rise in car prices and shortages of jobs, he knew he was being ever-hopeful in the future by handing out the five-hundred-dollar bonus.

  At the party the employees exchanged gifts. They used the name drawing tradition, but it was done by departments. In this way, a mechanic or parts employee was not expected to have to buy a gift for a car dealer or a supervisor. Silas never participated in this, since he already handed out gifts to everyone and he always had a special gift for Sally. This year he presented her with a diamond and precious jeweled broach, which was picked out by Wendy Sue. She had noticed how Sally admired it one time while the two ladies were out window shopping to keep the cabin fever from grabbing hold. People who stay closed in all the time because of the severe cold tend to go a bit batty, and in Alaska, it is referred to as Cabin Fever. A lot of the locals will brave the harsh weather to keep this from happening and simply browse the stores. With the massive Fred Meyers and Walmart stores, along with Sam’s Club in Fairbanks, this gave the people of Fairbanks plenty of room to stretch their legs and check on the latest sales. There were even people who would put on their gym wear and do laps around the stores in the early morning hours when they first opened.

  It wasn’t until Christmas Eve when Clay finally decided on his Christmas gift for Emy. But he wanted to do something for the entire family and at seven p.m., a U-Haul truck drove up to the front of the Sanders’ house, followed by an older Suburban with a load of six- young men. Clay had paid six of his single employees twenty-five dollars each to help him for one hour. They all volunteered, but he knew they could use the extra money and made sure they took it. The back of the U-Haul was opened, when Clay jumped out from behind the steering wheel and slammed the door shut to keep the heat in. According the Airport Way electronic sign, the temperature when he went by was a minus forty-four degrees. He had his heavy blue parka on and a dark blue Navy style beanie-cap over his head and covering his ears. He was also wearing thick leather insulated mittens.

  “Let’s get this unloaded and you all inside before we all freeze to death,” Clay ordered. All of these men not only worked for him but were enlisted men in the ADF and FFAM. Under a thick pile of U-Haul gray blankets were four boxes of assorted sizes and two of them were of a very large size. “We’ll put the bigger boxes in the garage, but I’ll have to get it open from inside. The smaller two will go inside the house and watch where you step. Mrs. Sanders has the whole house decorated to the max, looks like a Macy’s Department Store Window. ”When he saw the confused look on their faces he shook his head and added, “Your lack of education is showing. Macy’s is the store made famous in ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ and where they fly the big balloons on the Thanksgiving Day Parade.”

  “Oh, yeah…I remember that movie…Shirley Temple, right?” One of the men asked as he pulled a blanket off the biggest box.

  “Never mind, it’s too cold out here to give you a movie lesson. Let’s move!” A forklift from U-Haul was placed under the biggest box and once untied from the side wall it was lifted and carried over to the truck’s lift gate. Mr. Sanders wasn’t sure what was happening outside, but He recognized the U-Haul truck and went to the kitchen door by the carport to see who it was. He then found Clay standing there with a big grin on his face. Dad opened the door, and Clay shouted, “Merry Christmas!”

  “Clay, we were beginning to wonder what happened to you. You missed dinner, but Emy has a plate in the refrigerator for you. And you’d better make amends with my wife before she skins you.” Clay began to come in the house and then remembered, “Mr. Sanders, would you open your garage for me, I have some men out there who need to bring some boxes in.” Clay then dashed in to beg forgiveness of Mom and give Emy a kiss on the cheek. Instead, he got walloped in the face with a couch pillow. “You were supposed to be here at five o’clock, and I know the dealership closed today at three p.m., so where have you been?”

  “Is your daughter always as testy as this,
Mrs. Sanders?” Clay asked.

  “I’m not speaking to you,” Mom replied. “I made your favorite dishes at whats-her-name's request, and you fail to show up. So, you two work it out.” She went back to watching a Christmas program, the one where some Grinch-thing stole Christmas cartoon.

  Clay looked about the room, admiring how beautiful and tasteful it looked. From one corner to another, it was Christmas and lights were shining everywhere. The manger scene had six-inch tall figures, which were all hand painted. In one corner of the room, near the deck doors stood the eight-foot-tall natural Spruce Christmas tree filled with family ornaments and colorful in blue, green and red lights. A top the tree was a beautiful angel and beneath the bottom layer of branches were a wide assortment of finely wrapped gifts of every shape and color of wrapping. Clay knew he could never learn to wrap a gift so well and suspected it was simply a woman thing.

  “Clay,” Mr. Sanders bellowed. “What are your men bringing into my garage and into my wife’s kitchen?”

  “Hold that question, Sir. I need to pay off my elves.” Clay went into the kitchen and gave the men the money they were owed, and they agreed to get the U-Haul back to the rental store. He wished them all a Merry Christmas and watched them leave before turning to a confused looking Mr. Sanders. “Your question, I believe, Sir was about those boxes… am I correct, Sir?”

  “I think so, but I have had some of my wife’s special eggnog tonight, so I might be a little confused…though I do see the boxes at my feet.”

  “Merry Christmas, Mr. Sanders from my family to yours.” Clay reached into his Parka’s inside coat pocket and pulled out a plastic bag containing an assortment of documents, from a sales catalog describing the various pieces to their various warranties. The only thing missing was the sales receipts.

  “Clay, as far as I know, you’re the only member of your family… Honey, would you come out here.”

  Mrs. Sanders and Emy walked into the kitchen and then out into the garage after Dad pointed that way. “What did Santa here bring us,” Dad asked.

  “Sir, I’m over here a lot and watch television with you all the time. I noticed your TV is getting a bit long in the tooth as my Grandpa would often say and thought you needed a new one.” Clay pointed to a photo of the television flat screen monitor on the front cover of the sales catalog and smiled as Dad’s eyes grew wider and wider, “Oh, my lord, that beast is seventy-inches in size. You bought us a seventy-inch TV, Clay?”

  “Yes, Sir and it comes with all the bells and whistles, including the wall mount, which will take both of us to put up. The entertainment center also comes with a Bose Surround Sound Theater DVD/CD system, so I picked up a Blue Ray system too.”

  “Clay, do you have any idea what you’ve done to him?” Mrs. Sanders asked.”

  “What ma’am,” Clay replied. He wasn’t exactly sure how to answer that question.

  “Every man in the neighborhood will want to be over here to watch football and with this monstrous thing the players will be almost life size.”

  “I was also thinking, ma’am, you can put on those Christian seminar DVD’s and have your Bible studies here during the week. You’ll be the envy of the ladies.” He knew that got her thinking too.

  “Politics, Clay, you really have a natural talent… and thank you. Yes, the ladies and I will love it. Plus I can truly fill our home with the Lord’s music with such a sound system.

  “Clay!” Dad shouted. “How could you do this to me? Football yes, but Christian music bouncing off my walls; I’ll never get another nap again.

  Clay looked over at Emy and noticed the strange look on her face, she seemed to be pouting, and he wasn’t sure why. He mouthed the words, “What’s the matter?” But all she did was shake her head and turn away to go back into the kitchen. Clay looked over at Dad, who was already busy unpacking the sound system, leaving the TV and wall mount for tomorrow. Mom was sitting in her chair, reviewing the catalog and warranties. She was always the practical one of the family and kept the files for all the appliance warranties.

  Clay walked out into the kitchen and found Emy standing at the sink and looking out the window, through the carport and out into the street. It was cold, so the ice fog was dropping low, and their neighborhood now resembled the streets of San Francisco on a foggy evening.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” Clay asked.

  “Nothing,” She replied in a light voice.

  “You’re not glad I got your parents the entertainment center for Christmas?” I thought she’d be overjoyed, she likes football as much as her father does. But it seems I blew it somehow. Maybe she thinks I spent too much, but she knows I can afford it… at least for now. If I keep spending it this way I’ll be broke soon enough. That new M-4 cost me nine-hundred dollars, and with the extra magazines and other equipment I needed, I was well over a thousand dollars... So what’s with her? Why do women have to be so hard to read?

  “Clay, the gift is fantastic…it’s almost overboard, but I know how much you love my parents and how you wanted to please them. I understand how long you went without parents and how difficult this has been opening up yourself to them, but it’s… I was expecting something…forget it. I don’t want to spoil this for them, and I’ll probably get the old TV to put in my room… a plus all around…right?” Emy stood on her tip toes and kissed Clay lightly on the lips and went back into the living room to watch Mom and Dad play with the sound system. Within the hour, Mr. Sanders had talked Clay into helping him set the whole monstrosity up on the wall, and that meant locating the wall studs to ensure they simply didn’t put big holes in the sheetrock and the weight of the massive television pull the whole wall off.

  By midnight, they were done, and everything was mounted and in operation. Dad had two new hand controls to play with, which totally confused Mom, but Clay promised to show her how they each worked. Dad, with a weary smile on his face and a sore back, said his thanks and goodnights, before limping off to bed. Mom came over and gave Clay a big hug, “You made him very happy, Clay. He’s always wanted one of those big screens, but money was always needed elsewhere.” She hugged him again and said, “Merry Christmas.” She started to walk away and then turned to face he and Emy, “You sure you don’t want to use the spare bedroom or the couch… you’re going to be back here at ten a.m. anyway for Christmas morning madness?”

  “I still have a few things to take care off, Mrs. Sanders, but thank you. I’ll be here on time. I wouldn’t miss one of your breakfasts for anything.”

  “Well, okay then, good night,” Mom said, and she walked away with a bit of a cringe of pain to her side from her husbands over enthusiasm into installing this beast in such a hurry. She suggested they call the professionals, but her husband would hear of it, and now they were both going to wake up in the morning in need of a good helping of Aspirin with their coffee.

  Emy turned to Clay, “Why don’t you stay, kind of silly to leave now… you afraid you might try to sneak into my bedroom in the middle of the night?”

  Clay frowned at her and then replied, “You know I hate it when you talk like that. I’ve never looked at you that way or for that purpose.”

  She dropped her head and shook it slowly, her hands at her side, “I’m sorry, Clay. Guess you Christians would say my physical side is weak… or something like that. You know I’m no virgin, I’ve never lied to you about that, and I enjoy sex, but I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

  “I love you too, Emy, which means we wait. I have to be true to my Lord first and above all. I pray someday you will feel the same way.” He brought her hands together, lifted them up, and kissed her fingers. “I will see you in about nine hours. So please get some sleep, those lines under your eyes are not attractive.”

  “Oh, you!!” Emy walloped him in the chest, her favorite spot to hit him and then made a dash for her bedroom, leaving Clay standing alone in the living room. He looked around, enjoying the atmosphere of the decorated room and walke
d into the kitchen to use the phone and call a cab to take him back to the U-Haul shop to get his car. The salesmen had allowed him to use one of the employee plug-ins, so he’d be able to start his car. At these low temperatures, within two hours, the car battery could be zapped of juice, and the vehicle would not turn over. Clay’s Camaro had an electric battery blanket, an engine heater, and an oil pan heater, all going to a three-way electric box attached the body under the hood. An electric cord then ran for 5-feet from the box, through the grill and was rolled up inside the fiberglass bumper. He carried a 50-foot extension cord that would run from this cord to the plugin provided by the U-Haul Shop. All over Alaska, people plugged their vehicles in when the temperatures dropped below 20 degrees. Some people waited until below zero, but for an outsider coming into the state during winter for the first time, it appeared everyone was driving electric cars.

  The Camaro turned over just fine, though the interior of the vehicle was also in the minus forty-degree temperature and it took several minutes to get the heat up to a tolerable range and the windows defrosted. Clay was thinking about getting one of those interior heaters, but he was still reviewing the pros and cons on them.

  When he got back to his place and plugged his car in, he walked into his nice and toasty apartment, tossed his parka on the chair and walked over to his dresser. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a small velvet jewelry box he had picked up only a couple of days earlier. For the last forty-eight hours he was debating with himself as to whether or not if he should or not?

  10 - THE FIRST REAL CHRISTMAS IN A LONG TIME

  THE SANDERS HOUSE, FAIRBANKS

  CHRISTMAS MORNING

  11:14 A.M. 25 DECEMBER

 

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