by Ann B. Ross
Sam grinned as I viewed our conveyance. “It’s not much,” he said, “but it’ll get us there and back.”
“Well, beggars can’t be choosers, I guess. How do I get in the thing?”
Sam walked around to the passenger door and helped me up onto the duct-taped seat. “My word,” I said, “are you sure it’ll hold together?”
He laughed and went around to crawl under the steering wheel. “It runs better than it looks. Now, where to, madam?”
I looked straight ahead, not wanting to see his reaction to my destination. “Wal-Mart. And I can do without any comments.”
He laughed. “Wal-Mart, it is then.”
I declare, it was trial to try to carry on a conversation in that noisy contraption, but I managed to tell him what I wanted to get for Little Lloyd. The truck shook so bad as we traveled to the edge of town that our voices trembled like we both had St. Vitus dance.
It was a mortal relief to park in the huge lot that was already half filled with shopper’s cars. Half the county must’ve had the same idea I’d had.
As Sam helped me out of the truck, I said, “Now, Sam, there’s one, no, two things I want you to do. First, keep that old man they have at the door from coming at me with open arms. I’m going to smack him if he lays a hand on me.”
Sam threw back his head and laughed. Then he took my arm as we threaded our way across the parking lot. “I’ll watch him like a hawk.”
“And the other thing is,” I went on, “I don’t want you to say a word about what I buy. Binkie said I could spend whatever I want, and that’s what I aim to do.”
“Not a word,” he promised. “I’m just along for the ride.”
As we went through the automatic doors at the entrance, all I could think of was that the place reminded me of a beehive. The aisles were fraught with glassy-eyed shoppers propelling overladen carts like they were the only ones in the store.
“Well,” I said, casting an anxious eye around for that masher who was paid to feel up every woman who walked in the door. “If you have any suggestions as to what a nine-year-old boy would want, I’d like to hear them. But first, let’s head for the bicycles. Where do you think they’d be?”
“We’ll find ’em,” Sam said as he took my arm, and together we plunged into the turbulent crowd.
Chapter 28
Sam was ever so much help, and I congratulated myself for having the foresight to engage him in my Wal-Mart foray. He knew what little boys would like, which was natural, I supposed, since he’d once been one. He knew the exact size and style of bicycle that Little Lloyd needed, including a basket and a bell on the handlebars, matters that I’d not even thought of. I did think of a sled, though, and we got that, too, in case it snowed. Then we cruised the toy shelves, and Sam pointed out the toy soldiers, Star Trek figures, and this, that, and the other that would thrill any small boy.
“A flashlight, Sam,” I said. “Every boy needs a flashlight. And a camera, too. Help me look for them.”
By that time, we’d filled one cart and I’d roped in two clerks, who were supposed to be working but who could never be found when you were looking for something. I set one of them to pushing the bicycle behind us, and sent the other to procure a second cart for our additional purchases. Finally, when both carts were almost full, we began to wend our way to the front of the store.
“Hold up, Sam,” I said, before we got to the checkout line. “I think a television set would be nice. One he can have in his room for his very own. Oh, wait. Do you think that would be a hindrance to getting his homework done?”
“I expect his mother’ll lay down a few rules. And from what I’ve seen, he’s a conscientious little soul, so I doubt it’d ruin him. You might also think of a boom box.”
“A what?” But I didn’t really care what it was. If it was suitable for a neglected and needy child, I’d get it. “While we’re here, I want a television for Deputy Bates, too. There’s no need for him to have to go all the way to Binkie’s when he wants to watch something.”
“Uh, huh,” Sam said, smiling as if to himself. “I expect that’ll keep him home, all right.”
“And some leather gloves with a warm lining. I may have to go to a men’s shop for those, because I want something nice. You should see how chapped his hands are.”
We had the two carts full and teetering with boxes by that time, and one tired and dragging clerk pushing a bicycle in and around the aisles behind us.
“Oh, for goodness sake,” I said, as we once again headed for the checkout line. “A boy needs a ball of some kind. What would you suggest, Sam, a baseball or what?”
“Already covered. I’ve got him a baseball and a glove. I’m looking forward to showing him how to season and mold the glove to his hand. Binkie’s got him a basketball, and Coleman has a hoop hidden away somewhere. He’s concerned that you won’t let him put it over the garage.”
“He shouldn’t be. I don’t care what he puts up, as long as it’s something the child wants.”
Sam gave me a sidelong glance, but I kept my eyes straight ahead and on the next piece of business. I had long prided myself on being fiscally conservative and getting the most for my money. But my careful management was no cause for pride, since it had gone unappreciated anyway. Watching my money had been a case of have-to, for Wesley Lloyd had doled it out in driblets. I had learned penny-pinching from a master.
Well, times had changed, and so had I. And if Wesley Lloyd didn’t like it, he could take it up with whoever was in charge of wherever he was. As for me, I didn’t know when I’d enjoyed anything as much as this all-out shopping for Christmas presents.
I stopped in the aisle and let other shoppers sidle around me and my entourage of carts and clerks. “Let me consult my list, Sam, and see if I’ve forgotten anything.”
His eyebrows went up at the length of my list, wondering, I expect, what had gotten into me to turn a tightfisted woman into a generous and bountiful giver of gifts.
“Don’t say a word, Sam. It’s better to give than to receive, you know.”
Sam just smiled and said, “I agree, Julia. What’s next?”
“Well, I think I’ve done all the damage I can do here. Let’s get this paid for and out to the truck. Then I have a few other stops to make.”
With all we had to purchase, we took up several spaces in the checkout line, which got us some ugly looks. I declare, people ought to have more of the Christmas spirit, even if they have to wait a few minutes. Everybody was in such a hurry, and I had to straighten out the clerk in charge of the bicycle when he wanted to prop it by the counter and leave.
The sum total for two carts full and a bicycle came to an astronomical amount. No wonder some people had to join Christmas Clubs and save all year to buy Santa Claus for their children. Nonetheless, I wrote out a check and signed my name with a flourish. If you have it, use it and enjoy it, I always say.
“Now, Sam,” I said, when the back of the truck was loaded and we’d climbed into the cab. “I need a place to hide all this. It won’t do for Little Lloyd to see it before tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll take it to my house. I’ll just put the truck in the garage, and we’ll leave everything in it. James can drive my car home this afternoon, and I’ll bring the truck to your house in the morning.”
“Oh, that’s good. But listen, Sam, you have to get there early. I want everything under the tree before that child gets up.”
“You’re talking real early, Julia. He’s likely to be out of bed before sunrise.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely. Every kid wants to get up early to see what Santa Claus left.” He maneuvered the truck into the flow of traffic and we headed back into town. “Tell you what. Why don’t I bring it over about midnight or so? We’ll have plenty of time to unload and get it arranged around the tree.”
“Yes, let’s do that, if you don’t mind staying up that late.”
Sam cut his eyes over to me, giving me an ind
ulgent smile. “I think I can manage. And, Julia, if Lillian has any eggnog made, I’ll bring a little something to go in it and we’ll raise a few to the season.”
“Sam,” I said, with a reproving look.
He laughed. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
“You know I don’t indulge.”
“Well, you certainly have this morning,” he said, cocking his head toward the pile of goods in the truck bed. “I’m proud of you, Julia. You’re going to have a happy little boy tomorrow.”
“Indulging a child is different, Sam, from tippling out of bottle, and you know it. Drop me off at my house, if you will. I’ll get my car and go downtown to finish up.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“That’s not necessary, thank you. I have to go to a few ladies’ shops and such as that, for Hazel Marie, Binkie, and Lillian. Oh, and for LuAnne. Then I’ll be through, except for wrapping, which I’ll probably be doing half the night.”
Sam pulled into my driveway and, stopping him from getting out, I managed to slide out of the seat by myself. “I’d invite you in, Sam, but you need to get this truck out of sight before that child sees what’s in the back. Besides, it sounds as if it’s on its last legs. I just hope it gets you back here tonight.”
I started to close the door, then was brought up short by my failure to thank him. “Sam, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all your help. I’d’ve never gotten it done, and done so well, without you, and I thank you.”
“It was my pleasure, Julia. I had a lot of fun watching you turn Wal-Mart inside out.”
I never knew when Sam was teasing, but all I could think of as I walked to the side door was his description of our shopping trek. With a sour twist of my mouth, I thought, Fun.
Well, on second thought, maybe that’s what it’d been. I knew I had a feeling of great satisfaction, as well as tired and aching feet. But maybe that’s all part and parcel of having fun.
Lillian started in on me as soon as I stepped in the kitchen. “Where you been? Did you get any breakfast? You gonna break in two, you don’t eat something.”
“I have things to do, Lillian. Time is about to get away from me, and I just came in to get the car keys. If Hazel Marie has the car, I guess I’ll have to walk downtown.”
“No’m, she back. Her an’ Little Lloyd got they shopping done a little bit ago. Set down at the table. I got some soup for you an’ a sam’wich. You gonna eat ’fore you leave this house again.”
“Well, my goodness,” I said, shocked by a glance at the clock. “I didn’t realize we’d been gone so long. Hurry then, Lillian, I’ve got to get my shopping done before the stores close.”
“You got all afternoon, but if you’d of listened to me, you wouldn’t be running ’round at the las’ minute like you doin’.”
Don’t you just hate it when somebody tells you something you already know?
After hurriedly eating, checking my list as I swallowed, I got in the car and drove downtown. I might as well have walked, in spite of the bitter cold, for I had to drive around the block three times before finding a place to park. Then I had to walk almost as far to get to the jewelry store.
“I want a string of pearls,” I told the young woman behind the counter. “Real ones that they dive for in Japan, not your imitation kind.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” she said, quick to recognize a knowledgeable customer. “Right over here. What did you have in mind, exactly?”
“A traditional type of necklace, about sixteen inches or so in length, and a nice size to the pearls.”
“What about this one? These are lovely.” She held up a necklace that was the right length, but the pearls were of a size more suitable for a young girl’s first string.
“No. I want something appropriate to a more mature woman. Let me see those right there.” I pointed through the glass counter.
“Oh, these are outstanding,” the young woman said. “See, they’re graduated from about five millimeters up to eight and nine. Any woman would be thrilled to have them.”
I knew Hazel Marie would be, although she wouldn’t know one millimeter from another. “I’ll take them,” I said. “And I’d like them wrapped, if you would.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right to it.”
“Wait, I’m not through. I want something else. Something dangly and a little on the flashy side.”
The salesgirl’s eyes lit up. She knew she had a live one. “I know just the thing,” she said. “Come over to this counter.”
Before I finished, and while I was there, I selected a trinket or two for Binkie. Then, falling victim to the salesgirl’s enticements, I couldn’t resist a heavy gold charm bracelet for Hazel Marie. I chose several gold charms of one kind or another to go on it. “If you’ll attach these to the bracelet and wrap everything separately,” I said, “I’ll run do a few more errands. I have to have them this afternoon, though, so don’t close up till I get back.”
I left, feeling inordinately pleased with myself. I knew Hazel Marie would love the bracelet, since it not only dangled, but jangled, too. She wouldn’t appreciate the necklace half as much, but she would learn to. Every woman needs a good string of pearls.
By the time I finished my shopping and got home, I was so full of the Christmas spirit I could hardly drag myself into the house. I declare, it’s good that Christmas only comes once a year, else I wouldn’t be able to put one foot in front of the other.
Chapter 29
I was so tired, in fact, that I had to lie down after we returned from the Christmas Eve service, knowing I’d have to be up again till all hours when Sam came over. I couldn’t sleep, though, for I was about as excited as Little Lloyd. He had entertained himself most of the evening by scrambling through the gifts under the tree, trying to guess what was in them.
“Mama! Here’s one for you,” he cried. “And it’s from Miss Julia. And another one, too! Goodness sake, wonder what’s in them?”
I expect he was somewhat disppointed by not finding anything addressed to him from me, but that didn’t deter him from looking at every wrapped box again and again. It was too bad that a bicycle or a sled couldn’t be conveniently wrapped, but I intended to put everything out and let it appear that Santa Claus had left them.
“Mama?” Little Lloyd said, sitting back on his heels as he surveyed the paucity of packages under the tree. “Do you think Santa Claus knows where I live now?”
“Oh, honey, I’m sure he does,” Hazel Marie said, trying to allay his fears. “He won’t forget you.”
She cast a questioning glance at me, fearful, I supposed, that I had given no thought to the child’s expectations. I had a powerful urge to defend myself by telling them that Santa was on his way in a pickup truck. But Christmas is for secrets, so I curbed the impulse.
“Well,” the boy said, as he nervously pushed up his glasses. “I just thought my letter might’ve got lost again, and he wouldn’t know where to find me.”
“I sent him a letter, too, Little Lloyd,” I said, hesitating before ascending the stairs. “So I expect he’ll find you with no trouble at all. Now, what time do you expect to get up?”
“As soon as my eyes open,” he said, although from the excitement shining in them, I figured he’d have difficulty closing them for any length of time.
“You’ll need to get in bed early, then. Hazel Marie,” I said, turning to her, “I’ve invited Binkie and Sam, and told Deputy Bates that we’re expecting them all for Christmas breakfast. I told Lillian that she shouldn’t come in, but she wants to see what Santa leaves under the tree. They’ll all be here early, so we should get on to bed.”
“Yes, ma’am. I hope we can get to sleep, but I’m not sure I can, I’m so excited. Come on, Lloyd, you need to leave out some cookies and milk for Santa.”
Cookies and milk, I thought. There were so many little traditions that I’d either forgotten or not known about, never having had a child in the house. But I was not too old to learn, and I intended to do
so.
I didn’t go to bed, just let the others assume I had by going to my room and curling up fully dressed in a chair. But I must’ve dozed off in spite of myself, for I was awakened by the sound of that rattly truck pulling into the driveway. “Oh, Lord,” I thought, as I jumped up and smoothed my hair. “He’s going to wake that child.”
I tiptoed across the hall and closed Little Lloyd’s door, then hurried downstairs in my bedroom slippers, hoping to make as little noise as possible. The house was dark as pitch, and I had to feel my way to the backdoor to let Sam in.
“Sh-h-h,” I said. “They’re both sound asleep, so we have to be quiet.”
“I’m quiet as a mouse, Julia. Where do you want it all?”
“Why, it has to go under the tree, of course. Wait, I tell you what. Let’s bring it in the front door. That way we won’t have to go through the house and bang into things.”
It took several trips between truck and living room to get everything unloaded and set up around the tree. By the time we finished, I was pretty well frazzled, but Sam had gotten into the spirit of our conspiracy and kept shushing me everytime I wadded up a plastic bag.
“I can’t help it, Sam,” I said. “We can’t leave these things in a Wal-Mart sack. The child can read, so he’ll know they didn’t come from the North Pole.”
“I just don’t want him to come tiptoeing down the stairs to see what the clatter is,” Sam said, and grinned at me to see if I got his reference. Which of course I did.
That shiny new bicycle and sled gleamed in the reflected glow of the Christmas lights. When we had everything arranged just so, half the living room floor was filled with things that would make any child’s eyes come alive with delight.