~Chapter 3~
Meet Mr. Beamer
Mr. Beamer was a man of pocket-sized stature, standing only slightly more than five foot five inches in height, was of average weight and had mostly common features. The thinning hair on the top of his head was found to be, mostly gray with streaks of white throughout which gave him an appearance of, being a wizened and well traveled man. In a strange way, he looked like an ancient and very clever wizard.
Worn above his upper lip was a small grayish white well-cropped handlebar mustache that hung below the corners of his mouth on each side. The mustache was found to be strangely twisted into an upward position on his face. Other than that, there were no real sharp facial features other than, a rather large round bulbous nose attached to the front of his face. It was strangely thick with a small bump right in the middle, about the size of a medium-sized walnut.
His nose was so broad and different that, it was actually pleasing to look at in a strange sort of way and of course, Mr. Beamer was very proud of it. What else could you do, or how else could you handle a difficult situation that life had offered you, except to have a since of humor about it.
Mr. Beamer's nose seemed to have a mind of its own. Everywhere he looked the nose was leading the way first. When he was telling one of his epic tales and wanted to make a point, all he had to do was shake his head up and down, or from side to side, and his nose would be seemly making an explanation point to go along with his colorful words. This somehow only enlivened his stories, making them all the more exciting and adventurous.
Simple homegrown values made up the core of Mr. Beamer's worth. This is why he and his wife got a long so very well. Both of them had the same simple approach to life. This quality comes mostly from being raised in the heartland of America, in the late eighteen hundreds.
He was born and raised in Centerville, Indiana on his late father's family farm that has been passed down from generation to generation. It is a small working-farm with a main house surrounded by a small white wooden picket fence, a large grassy front yard and there is a large wooden barn behind the main farmhouse, where Charlie and his barnyard friends live.
Growing and selling corn is the mainstay of his farm but the growing season is short up this far north, so Mr. Beamer and his wife would have to find other ways, to make ends meet and to keep the farm running smoothly. Therefore, Mrs. Beamer would bake and sell some of her delicious homemade pies, which always brought in a little extra money. Then in the summer time, they would run a small icehouse, which would produce just enough ice for the local residents to get them through the long, hot, sweltering summer days and nights.
The Beamer's have this cantankerous and very irritable old ice-making machine found outside the back of the barn that always seems to be breaking down, at the most problematic of times. White steam belches from the tops of the smokestacks when it is turned on, and this would send a cloud of steam up into the air that looked like, an old steam train rumbling down a rickety railroad track.
Whenever the clanking and difficult machine is up and running in the summertime, all the kids in the valley would come running over to get ice, for their homemade lemonade or use the ice to cool their hot and tired feet. Mr. Beamer always hands out the ice freely to all the children, just to see the smiles that come to their faces.
You see Mr. Beamer just loves to be around children.
It makes him feel like his life is fulfilled, well balanced and that he is, wealthy in spirit.
When Mr. Beamer was in his early twenties and early thirties, he traveled often throughout the heart of the country by railroad cars, by foot, by horseback or by wagon train, going from county to county and from town to town. You see Mr. Beamer was tantamount or the same as being a hobo or vagabond at times but mostly he would work on farms, as he traveled doing seasonal work in the fields, or light handyman work in horse stables. This gave him just enough money to get by on and see the country at the same time. Eventually he ended up traveling most of the world over the years as his dreams took him further and further away from the place where he grew up.
Mr. Beamer was bitten with a wanderlust that he carried with him, though out most of his young life.
He never had time for much of a formal education because he had to work on the family farm at such an early age. However, he was, as smart as a professor at one of those prestigious and refined colleges over in Indianapolis, at Indiana State or Purdue University. He always read as much as he could throughout his travels, and he always kept a good book in his backpack, next to his bedroll.
He would read anything and everything he could get his hands on, and would read whenever he found the spare time to delve into a good book. He enjoyed reading so much, that in a past life he could have been a librarian for that matter.
Now when Mr. Beamer was younger he and most of his early schoolteachers just did not get along very well. Therefore, he decided to leave school early, around the sixth grade, to help take care of the family farm. Many of boys his age were quitting school at that time for the same reasons. Things were just very tough for their fathers to make ends meet, and they needed all the help they could get. If leaving school early was his fault or his teaches fault, Mr. Beamer never really knew. He did know that a proper, formal education was not to be a big part of his early life.
Mr. Beamer never forgot his humble background and that he were raised in a simple and very basic time. He came from parents of average ways and means.
He was the oldest son of four other brothers and two sisters all of which looked up to him, but he knew helping out on the farm, would not be his only pursuit in life. As all his brothers and sisters finally grew old enough that they could take care of themselves and make their own way in life, he now turned his thoughts to distant lands and far away adventures. He wanted to see all, the great things that he had read about in his books, and in this way he was a lot like little Louis.
Mr. Beamer eventually had to follow his great urge to travel abroad and see the superb things that the world had to offer. Wanderlust is mostly for the young of heart and body, and this was exactly how Mr. Beamer, envisioned himself.
In the back of his mind, that singular thought of travel grew so strong and regular, that he felt if he did not go off soon he would miss his one chance in life, and that the world would surely pass him by.
When Mr. Beamer left Centerville he was in his late twenties and did not have more than two wooden nickels to rub together, but he knew that that surely would not stop him.
One day, off he went.
He made his way across all of the great northern lakes by sleek cutter ships, then from the southern tip of one great lake onto an old steam train to New York City, and then to the navel yards in New York harbor. From there he eventually stole aboard a wayward merchant ship to Singapore, and from there he sailed on a great cargo ship, to the far South China Seas. After becoming a merchant marine during his mid life, he must have traveled the world six times over by his accounts, before he turned forty.
Abroad is where he lived a life of happiness, and at times heart breaking solitude and loneliness. Other times, there were grand adventures and still other times there were great ventures. He began living the life that would become the basis of all his fanciful tales later in life.
When his body and spirit for adventure finally was satisfied and full, he one day found his way back to his home in Indiana, to his family's farm, and to the life he knew and loved before. The family's farm was still the tranquil place it always was and not much had changed, in the almost thirty years since he was away.
Mr. Beamer had met Mrs. Beamer at a fall county square dance, they fell deeply in love, on first sight, and soon thereafter, he married her. He just could not get over her beautiful smile, bright and very honest eyes and gentle manners. However most of all, it was her wonderful cooking.
Now the only adventures in life Mr. Beamer sought
were the loving arms of his wife, the warmth of his fireplace, and the comfort of a good book to read.
Mr. Beamer never had time for any children because he traveled so often when he was a younger man. The childbearing years of his wife had already passed her bye, by the time they had fallen in love and got married. This is why he loved to have children around him so much in his older age.
His main job in life now was to delight the children in town with his storytelling, reciting of poems and the singing of fanciful songs. He liked to stir the children's magnificent imaginations about far away and far off lands, to stimulate a desire in them to read, and to be thankful for all things of man, beast or nature. His real calling in life though, was the telling of tall fables, and long winding stories.
When some part of a fantastic story was being told and he wanted to get some one's attention, he would bob his head from side to side, shake his nose up and down, and laugh aloud, at the most unusual of times. His ever present laugh was strong and loud for a man his age, and when he laughed it was infectious, and a delight to anyone within earshot.
Then one night on Mr. Beamer's back porch:
"Mr. Beamer, are you going to tell another tall story tonight?" asked, an excited Louis as he alighted up to the back porch on a recent Friday night.
"Take a seat Louis where you can next to Muncy and the others, then bundle up against the chill of the evening's north winds, for I have a particularly interesting story to tell tonight. I am very sure that none of you have ever heard this one before", said Mr. Beamer as he sat down on his favorite old rocking chair, pulled his old well-worn straw hat down a little bit over his soft eyes, and wrapped his comfortable knit scarf around his thick neck a little tighter, to ward off the night's chill.
As most of the children in town began gathering around on the rear porch to hear his latest tall tale, tobacco smoke from his old corn pipe was starting to circle up in the air above the open-air patio. As the smoke rings were wafting out over the heads of everyone present and dissipating, outwards and upwards over, the top of the farmhouse Mr. Beamer got comfortable and was just about to begin the telling of his enchanting story for the evening.
Short Stack stumbled in because he could hardly see through his long hair, and pulled down baseball cap. Mr. Turkey with fright in his eyes tottered onto the back porch and sat up front on the lower part of the stoop while he constantly looked around in case trouble had followed him.
Molly finally showed, finding a comfortable seat on the other side of Louis, who had found a place right in front of Mr. Beamer. Muncy sat on the other side of Louis. He placed his head on Louis's lap then quickly fell asleep. Growlin Harry was there, becoming quite just long enough so as not to spoil the story with all his constant growling. He sat a little further away from everyone else so the smell, of his heat balm would not disturb the others.
Chug showed up a little late because, he had to get his household chores done but still got there early enough, so as not to miss any of the story. Most of the barnyard animals were there and now seated, as well. Arty the Pig and a few other animals from the barn showed up and all took seats, around the back porch to complete the guest list for the night.
The small fire of birch wood was all aglow in the wood burning stove, and the two gas lamps hanging on a nearby post on the porch, threw a soft soothing light on everyone in attendance.
The late cool summer breeze faded a bit when, Mr. Beamer began to speak in a low, soft voice.
"Last week, I told you the story of Charlie's Uncle, The Sergeant-Major Bocephous the Mighty that was in Alexander the Greats army. The week before that I told you of another one of Charlie's relatives, "Benedetto the Good and his travels with Marco Polo though out China. This week I want to tell you the greatest and most dangerous adventure that ever happened to me in all of my travels though out the world.
Keep still and listen my children, for you will want to hear every word that I am about to impart unto you. This tale is about a one-time magical adventure and fantastical journey that I once took to the great North Pole?to Santa Claus?Village?"
Charlie the Great White Horse and the Story of the Magic Jingle Bells Page 4