by Joy Redmond
Finally, Uncle Clayton and the boys dragged a cedar tree through the back door. It was small and some of the branches were brown, but everyone thought it was perfect. Uncle Clayton put the tree in a five-gallon bucket and then filled the bucket with gravel from the driveway so it wouldn’t tip over. Following Mama’s instructions, he set the tree in the front room between the double bed and the end of Carnikko’s rollaway bed.
Don, Lee, and Carnikko drew figures on colored construction paper they had brought home from Sunday school, then cut the figures out and hung them on the tree with safety pins. By mid-morning the tree was all decorated and everyone stood looking at it in awe. It was the prettiest tree they’d ever seen.
As Carnikko admired the decorated cedar, she felt a slight breeze blow over her body. She looked up and saw Purple Angel sitting on top of the tree. She smiled and Purple Angel smiled back, waved, and disappeared.
Uncle Clayton then announced that he had a hot date and needed to be on his way. Everyone thanked him for helping them get the tree, and Carnikko remembered to thank him for the shoes. Even though they still weren’t the patent leather ones she longed for, they were better than the boy’s shoes.
The children begged to stay up late in case Daddy came home, but at ten o’clock, Mama finally made them go to bed. “Maybe Daddy will come tomorrow,” she said, but there was sadness in her voice that told Carnikko that Mama was as disappointed as they were.
Mama tucked everyone into bed and then listened as they said their prayers.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning the children were up earlier than usual. Mama fixed rice with store-bought milk, but the milk was almost gone. Sometimes a neighbor gave them a quart of fresh milk, but it just didn’t taste the same as milk from the store—and milk from the neighbor was especially bad when the cows ate wild onions.
When they finished eating breakfast, the children kept glancing out the front window, hoping to see Daddy’s car climbing the hill. They all pressed their noses against the cold windowpane, their breath making circles on the glass. They shifted their weight from one foot to the other, occasionally poking each other in the ribs if someone got too close.
By ten o’clock that night, Mama announced that it was bedtime again. As the children undressed by the potbelly stove and put on pajamas, Carnikko wiped tears from her cheeks and mumbled, “Daddy’s a jackass jerk!”
Rachel shot her a look, but said nothing. Instead, she sat in the wingback chair and asked the children to gather around her to say a prayer. Carnikko obeyed, but she didn’t bow her head. She had already begged God to send Daddy home, but he hadn’t come, so Carnikko was determined not to ask again.
As the room grew silent, they heard a car door slam. The children sprang to life and ran to the front door. Carnikko threw open the door, stepped onto the porch, and shrieked, “It’s Daddy!”
Daddy was sprinting toward the house, and he scooped Carnikko into his arms as he reached the door. With the other kids hugging his legs, he stepped into the house, laughing with joy as the children chattered with excitement.
Once inside, he lowered Carnikko to the floor and looked toward Mama, who was still sitting in the wingback chair, tears rolling down her cheeks. The children clung to Daddy’s legs as he made his way across the room, never taking his eyes off Mama. When he reached the chair, she stood, and he wrapped his muscular arms around her waist and lifted her off the floor. He twirled her around and kissed her soundly on the lips, then set her down and playfully patted her fanny.
Mama gave him a playful shove, saying, “Please, Teddy, not in front of the children!”
As Carnikko watched the scene, her heart filled with love and forgiveness. Daddy was finally home, and all was right with the world.
The children bombarded Daddy with questions, all talking at the same time. “What does that Indiana look like? What kind of house do ya live in? When can we come for a visit?”
“Whoa, kids, give Daddy time to catch his breath,” Mama said with a smile. “Let’s all go in the kitchen so I can make some coffee while Daddy answers your questions.”
Daddy took Mama’s hand as they walked toward the kitchen, followed by the children. As Mama started the coffee, Daddy turned to the kids and said, “Okay, I want you kids to go back out to the front room for a couple minutes. I need to talk to Mama in private.” As the kids whined, he added, “Go on now. It’ll only take a second.”
Back in the front room, Lee and Evan adjusted the decorations on the tree for the hundredth time while Don turned on the radio and tuned in some Christmas music. Carnikko stayed just outside the kitchen door, wanting to hear what Daddy was going to tell Mama.
In a low voice, Mama asked, “Teddy, did you bring toys for the children? You said you would.”
Daddy replied softly, “Now, Rach, don’t go gettin' all mad at me before you hear me out.” As Mama’s eyes narrowed, Daddy went on. “Now, Rachel, gawddangit, I said hear me out! I had some money, but not as much as I wanted. I planned on buyin' the kids lots of things ꞌcause I figure they deserve it, so I got in this poker game so I could win some big money, and—”
Mama cut him short. “No! Don’t tell me you lost it all! How could you do that to your kids?”
“Rachel, stop!” Daddy yelled, his face turning red.
Carnikko ran into the kitchen, shouting, “Daddy, don’t you dare hit Mama!”
Daddy looked at Carnikko with a shocked expression, “Why, Punkin, I ain’t gonna hit yer mama.” He walked over to the table and sat down. Then he sighed deeply and called out, “Don, Lee, Evan, you can come back in now.”
The boys came running, pushing each other as they all tried to get through the doorway at the same time. When they had assembled in front of him, Daddy said flatly, “Kids, I’m gonna tell ya somethin’ that yer mama ain’t gonna like.” He paused and looked at them for a long moment, then said, “The truth is, there ain’t no Santa Claus. He’s a lie, just like a lot of other things grownups tell kids. Yer mama teaches ya not to lie, but now I’ve gotta tell ya that Santa Claus is a big fat lie!”
Mama’s expression turned from horror to rage as she shouted, “Teddy Randall, don’t ever tell my children that I lie to them! Santa lives in people’s hearts, whether he’s a real person or not—and how dare you come into our home and steal the joy of Christmas?”
All the children burst out in loud sobs. Don choked back his tears long enough to ask, “There’s no such thing as Santa?”
Daddy stood and waved his hand dismissively. “No, there’s no Santa. Why don’t ya’ll stop acting like bunch of tittybabies? Shit fire! Don’t be a bunch of hair-brain heathens either.”
Carnikko wondered what a hair-brain heathen was. She figured it was a small, furry animal with a single strand of hair coiled around in its head for a brain. The image was funny but she wasn’t about to laugh at anything Daddy said at that moment.
Daddy gave another deep sigh, then he stormed out the back door, slamming it behind him. They heard him kick a coal bucket across the porch.
Mama lowered her body into a kitchen chair and sat in stunned disbelief.
Don looked at Mama and asked, “What’s a heathen?”
Mama reached out and gently stroked Don’s cheek. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, son. Daddy’s just mad, but he’ll cool off in a few minutes.”
A few minutes later, Daddy came back inside. He sat dejectedly at the table and said, “I’m sorry, kids. I’m just mad at myself for bein' so gawddang stupid, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on yer mama and you kids. Let me take my coffee into the front room so you can show me the Christmas tree.”
Mama picked up Evan and took Lee’s hand. Daddy picked up Carnikko and reached for Don’s hand.
Don backed away.
Mama said, “Don, take Daddy’s hand. He’s trying to be nice.”
Don backed behind Mama and said, “I don’t want him touchin' me.”
Daddy ignored Don and hugged Carn
ikko to his body. Carnikko slipped her arms around his neck. She could never stay mad at Daddy.
They all walked into the front room. Daddy examined each paper figure, saying, “I bet I know who made this one,” and he was right every time, which made the children feel special.
After he commented on every part of the tree, he walked across the room and sat in the rocker in front of the potbelly stove. Mama sat in the wingback chair with Don sitting next to her on the arm. Lee and Evan gathered at Daddy’s feet, just like they used to do on Saturday nights as they listened to the Grand Ole Opry.
Maybe Christmas ain’t totally ruined, Carnikko thought as she walked over to the rocker, where she climbed into Daddy’s lap.
As he smiled and put an arm around her, she said, “Daddy, I wanna tell ya somethin' that’s gonna be hard to believe—but it’s the gospel truth!”
“Okay, Punkin. If ya say so, I’ll believe ya,” he said, lighting a cigarette.
She squirmed in his lap and fanned the smoke away from her face. “Since ya went away, we ran outta coal, food, and clothes. We didn’t even have coats to wear. But I prayed as hard as I could, and do ya know what?”
“What, Punkin?” he asked, shifting Carnikko onto his other leg.
“Well, every prayer was answered. We got coal, food, coats and shoes!” Then she paused and studied Daddy’s face. He seemed to be listening to every word. “It was what you’d call a miracle.” When Daddy didn’t interrupt, Carnikko continued, “So you see, Daddy, there is a God, and He hears and answers prayers, so now I’m a—” Carnikko waited for Daddy to say something, but when he just looked at her and nodded, she blurted out, “Now I’m a bible-thumpin' turd!”
Daddy began to chuckle, then began to laugh so hard that Carnikko’s body bounced around in his lap. “Oh, Punkin, it sure sounds like that’s what happened, alright!” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Ya got guts, and ya say what ya think, just like yer ol' man!”
Carnikko put her head against her daddy’s chest. The smell of whiskey, cigarette smoke, and Old Spice blended together, and it was comforting. It was the smell of Daddy.
Everyone sat in silence for a minute, then Daddy saw Mama’s head begin to bob from exhaustion. He made a large, exaggerated yawn and said, “Okay, kids, it’s time for bed. I’ve had a long drive and I’m tuckered out.”
Daddy headed toward the rollaway, carrying Carnikko, but Mama said quietly, “Teddy, Evan sleeps in Carnikko’s bed now. She’s been sleeping with me since you left.”
Daddy deposited Carnikko on the left side of the double bed, then walked back across the room, picked up Evan, who had fallen asleep on the floor, carried him to the rollaway, and tucked him in. He turned toward Mama and said, “That boy’s so innocent lookin'. He turns my innards into a bowl of quiverin' Jell-O.”
Carnikko propped her head on her hand and said, “His smile is like a breath of fresh air and a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day,” words she’d heard Mama say to Grandma once.
“That he is,” Daddy said. Then he walked over to Lee, scooped him off the floor and carried him into the middle room. He rumpled his hair and deposited him into bed. He turned toward Don, who had followed them, but Don ran around to the other side of the bed, jumped in and pulled the quilt over his head. Daddy blew a hard breath and said, “Don’t worry, son. I won’t touch you. I guess yer still kinda mad at me, and I really can’t say I blame ya.”
He walked back into the front room, stripped down to his shorts and climbed into the bed. He reached across Mama, and caressed Carnikko’s cheek, but in less than a minute, he was snoring.
Mama nestled her head in the bend of Daddy’s arm, and ran her hand through his black, curly hair.
“I hope Daddy didn’t ruin Christmas too bad for ya, Mama,” Carnikko whispered.
“Oh, Punkin, your daddy can be the most exasperating man I’ve ever known sometimes. I can’t live with him, but Lord knows, I can’t live without him, either.”
Chapter Fifteen
When Carnikko awoke the next morning, Mama and Daddy weren’t in bed. She sat up, stretched, then gasped and ran over to the Christmas tree. There was a beautiful red shoulder-strap purse hanging on a nail behind the tree. She clutched it tightly, then pinched the gold latch and opened the purse. On the back of the lid was a mirror. She looked at her reflection, screwed up her face and stuck out her tongue, and the reflection did the same.
“Doggone! I ain’t dreamin',” she whispered. She slipped the purse strap over her shoulder, then spied a Betsy Wetsy doll propped against the trunk of the Christmas tree. She scooped the doll into her arms and ran into the kitchen to find Mama and Daddy.
As she burst into the kitchen, she saw Daddy emptying a packet of Stanback powder into his mouth and chasing it with black coffee. He always said that Stanback or quinine mixed with coffee was a quick cure for a hangover.
“Daddy,” Carnikko squealed, “looky what Santa brought me!” She held out the purse and the doll and said, “See, Daddy? There is a Santa after all. Mama didn’t lie!”
Daddy lifted Carnikko onto his lap, ran his hand over the purse, and smoothed Betsy Wetsy’s blue dress. Then he looked at Mama and mumbled, “I reckon I was in such a hurry to get to the outhouse this mornin' I wouldn’t have seen a purple cow if it had been under the tree. Bu—but how?”
Mama smiled. “Well, Teddy. If you don’t believe in Santa, do you believe in miracles?”
“Oh, please,” Daddy answered, then looked back at Carnikko and asked, “What did yer brothers get?”
“I dunno,” Carnikko said. “As far as I know, they’re still asleep—but ain’t this the prettiest purse and the prettiest doll you ever saw? My friend Dorothy has a Betsy Wetsy too, and if ya give her a bottle, she wets her diaper.”
Daddy stood, took Carnikko’s hand, and as they walked through the middle room, Carnikko yelled, “Don! Lee! Wake up. Santa came—and he brought presents!”
The boys sprang from bed and ran to see the miracle Santa had performed. When they went into the front room, Don picked up a can of Tinker Toys with his name on it while Lee grabbed a red fire engine. Evan woke up, jumped out of bed, and grabbed a box of building blocks. There was also a bright red spinning top with no name tag on it. Don and Lee spun it a few times, and Evan clapped his hands and laughed. Each child also had a stocking hanging on the wall filled with fruit, nuts, hard candy, and a pack of Juicy Fruit gum.
Carnikko watched the boys play with their toys and her heart filled with joy. Then she saw Daddy look at Mama. She backed up a few steps and heard him grumble, “Gawddangit, Rachel. Ya jumped down my throat for nothin'. Ya already had presents!”
Mama leaned toward Daddy and said softly, “Calm down. I’d just dozed off last night when I heard a tapping on the door, and when I went to see who it was, I found Mr. and Mrs. Womack standing on the porch with presents in their arms. They didn’t want to wake anybody, so they handed them to me and I put them under the tree. Then I hung the stockings and purse on nails. You were sleeping so soundly, you never heard a thing. Now do you believe in miracles?”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Daddy said, shaking his head.
Even though she now knew that it hadn’t been Santa who brought the gifts, Carnikko decided not to let on that she knew—and she wasn’t about to spoil it for her brothers. It was just another secret she’d have to keep to herself.
Mama went into the kitchen and found just enough of the store-bought milk to make one more special breakfast in honor of Christmas.
After breakfast, Daddy ambled out to the back porch. Carnikko looked through the window and saw him light a cigarette, inhale deeply, and blow smoke through his nostrils. She opened the door and stepped out, but Daddy didn’t seem to notice. He was talking to an old cat that had wandered into the yard the day before. The children had tried to pet it but it was wild and wouldn’t let them get close. Now, here it was standing in front of Daddy, looking him straight in the eyes as if it understood every word.
“My heart hurts knowin' they ran outta coal, food, and clothes,” he said, easing himself down onto the top step. “But I sent all the money I could.” Then he chuckled as he repeated Carnikko’s words, ‘I’m a bible-thumpin' turd.’ I wonder how long she’ll go along with that religious shit, thinkin' God, the smitey-smiter, will send her to hell for havin' human needs and desires.”
Carnikko was almost afraid to scratch an itch, for fear that Daddy would find out she was listening as he continued to talk to the cat.
“I wish I could believe in God, but it don’t make sense to me. If there’s a God, why are there so many homeless, cold, hungry, and sick people in the world? Heaven’s streets are paved with gold and hell is a lake of burning sulfur? It’s all horse-shit!”
Daddy paused a moment, then turned his face to the sky. “Hey, God. Are you up there? How do you choose who gets blessed and who gets damned? It don’t make no sense—never has, never will.”He crushed his cigarette and spat on the ground. “Holy Mackerel. What am I gonna do with my screwed-up life?” he said, heaving a deep sigh.
The cat jumped when Daddy spat, then ran out to the tool shed and crawled under the small building.
Carnikko eased back inside, afraid that lightning would be striking Daddy dead any second—but she had to admit that she’d wondered about all those things herself at times.
She walked into the front room and pulled an orange out of her stocking. Don, Lee, and Evan were all busy playing with their new toys and munching on hard candy. Mama didn’t scold them for eating candy before dinner, so Carnikko figured that kids got to do things on Christmas Day that they weren’t allowed to do the rest of the year.
That afternoon, Mama cooked a nice Christmas dinner with the limited food she had on hand. When it came time to go to bed, Mama helped Lee put on his pajamas, and she put on Evan’s.