by JR Wirth
“What? We need to tell the others.”
Jacob laughed. “Got you.”
“I’m going to get you back, P-face.”
“P-face, you. You P-face.”
We didn’t get very far when we heard Isaiah shout, “Over here!”
When we turned, Isaiah was jumping up and down and doing jumping jacks to get our attention.
“Let’s go!” Jacob shouted.
“On it.”
Jacob pointed and I nodded. Without words, we quickly decided to climb the fence to take a shortcut across the field.
Halfway up the chain-link fence, struggling immensely, I had a change of heart. “This may not be such a good idea.”
“You’re right,” Jacob said. He jumped off the fence, yet his black Chuck’s made no sound when they hit the ground.
I decided to climb down. No sense in messing up my clothes, or a good pair of shoes, I thought.
As my second foot hit the ground, we immediately raced to where Isaiah and Bubba were standing. Wanting to be there first, I pushed Jacob. He stumbled and came to a standing stop just over the concrete curb.
“Told you I’d get you back!” I shouted, out the side of my mouth. I threw my fist in the air for a celebratory pump. When I turned back to see how Jacob was doing, I jumped and yelled, “Cheez-it, Jacob! How’d you do that?” He was running right beside me.
Jacob smiled and, without a word, ran beside me the rest of the way.
When we got there, Isaiah and Bubba were talking to the boy.
“Why did you come here?” Isaiah asked.
“I don’t know,” the boy said sadly.
With much concern and curiosity, I stared at the boy. He must have thought I was a threat, since every time he looked at me, he seemed a little more scared.
I must seem creepy to him, I thought and the next time he looked at me, I smiled to reduce his anxiety toward me. The smile must have also seemed creepy, since the boy moved to his left, further away from where I was standing. I chuckled, but only to myself. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
Jacob knelt next to the boy. “What’s your name?” he asked, seeming every bit a grown-up. “And where are your parents?”
The boy looked down and then back up at all of us, starting with Bubba and ending with a weird look at me.
I must really creep him out!
He looked back down and shook his head. “My name is Joe.” He took a long pause, and then pointed to a bunch of houses to his left, past the school’s eastern field. “My mom’s over there,” he continued. “She’s at our house. And I don’t know about my dad. I’ve never met him.”
Jacob continued his adult-like counsel. He touched Joe on the shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”
“It is?”
“Yes.” Jacob patted Joe. “Now, tell us why you’re here, all by yourself.”
“I was watching TV with my mom and then her boyfriend came home, and they started fighting.” Joe stopped and put his face in his hands. “They were fighting about me.”
Jacob sat down next to Joe. He wrapped his arm around Joe’s shoulders.
Not wanting to make a bad situation worse, I kept my distance.
Isaiah looked very concerned, as did Bubba. Isaiah sat next to Joe, on his left, making a sandwich of concern—with a meaty Joe in the middle.
“That’s messed up,” Isaiah said. “Did you hear what they were arguing about?”
“He was yelling at her, saying that he doesn’t have enough money to buy me all the Christmas things I want.”
“And your mom?” Isaiah continued his questioning. “What did she say?”
“She said she needs to get a job to help out. And then he said he didn’t want that.”
“What is it that you want him to buy?”
“Well, my friends have iPhones and they get to go to Disneyland all the time.”
“Wow, really?” I had to chime in. This kid’s being a spoiled brat. He wanted things that all kids want, but most can’t afford. I shook my head in disgust, and scuffed my shoe against the tire tracks on the raised curb. When I looked back at Joe, he had a worried look on his face, almost like he’d cry if I was to shoot another word in his direction. I quickly looked at Bubba, Isaiah, and Jacob. “Anybody here have an iPhone?” I asked and, for impact, I waited for an answer, even though I knew none of us did. “What about Disneyland? Anyone go lately?” Again, I knew that none of them had gone since before last Christmas.
Joe watched everyone shrug and shake their heads. He seemed a little puzzled that none of us had the stuff that he wanted.
I checked his pocket and it looked like he had a phone. “Isn’t that a phone in your pocket?”
Joe looked at his jean shorts. He reached in and pulled out a smart phone. He showed it to us. “Yeah.”
“Do you have clean clothes?”
“Yes.”
“A warm place to live?”
“Yes.”
“Does he hit you?”
“No.” Joe shook his head.
“Does he hit your mom?”
Joe buried his head and mumbled something inaudible to his shorts.
“I didn’t hear you,” I declared. “Does he hit your mom?” I was getting more upset with every question. I tried to keep calm though, I didn’t want him crying again or freaking out because I creeped him out. But I couldn’t hold back. “Does he? Does he hit your mom?”
“No!” Joe shouted back.
I was determined, and he didn’t scare me in the least. I walked up and bent to get in Joe’s face. “I think you’re being a spoiled brat,” I growled, just inches from his nose. “And I think you should go home and apologize to them for asking for too much freaking stuff. And you might want to tell your mom that you love her, too.” I stood and smiled at Jacob, who was already smiling at me.
Without words, or an explanation, Joe stood and started walking down the street, toward his house.
“Where are you going?” Jacob shouted to Joe’s back.
“Home!” Joe shouted back. “I’m going to tell my mom I love her.”
Jacob stood and straightened his pants. He looked at me and said, “I knew you could do it.” He raised his hand and we slapped a high-five. Jacob then started running back toward the park.
“Wait up!” I yelled.
He turned and walked backward.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“Home!” Jacob shouted. “I think they’re worried about us; and Jessica’s about to text.” He chuckled and waved for us to follow. “Come on!”
As soon as Jacob finished, Isaiah got a text. He looked at the ID and his eyes got big. He looked back at Jacob, and whispered, “No way!”
Jacob smiled and held his out arms, as if to say, “I don’t know.”
Isaiah looked back at the phone and read the message. “She wants to know where we are.”
“Tell her we’re on the way.”
Chapter Nine
No surprise Jacob was the first one to reach the house. He waited for the rest of us to catch up. When we walked in, everyone was standing around Grandpa’s new table. Previously, we would pretty much eat anywhere with TV trays and two small dinette tables, but this year Grandpa went all-out. He went shopping and bought a new, dark-brown table that he put in the formal dining room. It has extensions that he puts in the middle to make the table longer. He even bought extra chairs. I’m pretty sure he did it to impress Sophie. But, for what it’s worth, the table did look nice when we came in, complete with a wreath, candles, and flowers.
Uncle Joel and Sara were standing next to the head spot, on the right, and there was an empty spot on the left. I’m sure that was reserved for Sophie.
“C
ome on in and sit down,” Uncle Joel said, waved for us to enter. Sara and Titi pulled back the chairs to make room for everyone to sit.
Then a line of food traffic began. It started from the kitchen and extended into the new, seemingly bigger, dining room. First to show was Grandpa, who brought out the perfectly cooked turkey. Karlos followed him with mac and cheese, and then Steve with the stuffing. The line continued in a circular fashion until all the treats were in their proper place. It was quite a different look and feel to the Christmas feast, but I liked it.
It seemed that everyone else liked it too, as there were smiles all around. Except Grandpa, he seemed pre-occupied while he created the new tradition. I could tell he was worried about Sophie.
Jacob and I sat at the opposite end of the table, with Jacob last and me in the chair just to his right. I nudged him. “Have you heard from your mom?” I asked. “Grandpa looks very worried.”
“Yeah, he does.” Jacob pulled out his cell phone. He kept it under the table while he checked for messages.
I noticed he was being sneaky, so I had to comment. “What?” I said with a surprisingly, high-pitched voice. “You don’t want me to see your girlfriend’s texts?”
He smiled. “No, that’s not it.” Jacob slid his phone between his pants, and the new chair’s, clear, plastic cover. It was still covered with plastic because I think Grandpa wanted to keep the chairs as nice as possible, for as long as possible. “No messages.”
We looked at Grandpa, cutting the turkey. I couldn’t tell if he was sad that Sophie didn’t come, or if he was upset that she didn’t call.
I’m sure it’s both, I reckoned.
Grandpa finally spoke. He looked at Jacob and asked, “Did you hear from your mom?”
Jacob nudged me and whispered, “P-face.” He then looked at Grandpa. “I just got a text and she’s on her way.”
“That’s great news.” Grandpa smiled for the first time.
I nudged Jacob. “Thanks, P-face.”
He smiled. “You’re the P-face.”
Grandpa cleared his throat, which got everybody’s attention. “I need to know who wants dark or light meat, and who wants a leg? But, since we missed Thanksgiving, I want to know what everyone here is thankful for today.”
Silence filled the room, as everyone looked around. Usually one of our parents would speak up at this point. Or Uncle Joel would make one of his bold statements, and then volunteer to say a prayer. But not this year. It was weird—just silence.
Suddenly, Jacob spoke up. “I want to go first.” He looked around and, without any objections, he continued. “I want to thank everyone in the room.” Jacob placed his hand on my shoulder and smiled at me. I’m sure it was on purpose. But he didn’t have to, since everyone already knew we were each other’s favorites. Then he looked at my mom and said, “Thank you for letting me stay over and make prank calls with Hailey.”
My mom coughed, nearly spitting out her soda. She covered her mouth and swallowed, then laughed and cleared her throat. When she composed herself, my mom said, “You’re welcome.”
Jacob looked around the room. “I want to thank all of you. You are all great people, although you do get a little uptight with each other from time-to-time. But that’s okay. I imagine it happens in all big families. You are very blessed, and have a lot to be thankful for. But don’t say thanks, only once a year, let the others know you appreciate them every single day; because one day you won’t get the chance. Treat every day as if it were Christmas day.”
“Well said.” Grandpa clapped and then the rest at the table joined in.
While we were clapping, Jacob looked at his phone. He then stood. “My father’s here to take me away.” He leaned over and kissed me on the top of the head. “I thank you most of all.”
I walked Jacob to the door and opened it. I hugged him. “Merry Christmas,” I whispered.
“Merry Christmas?”
On my way back to the table, I could hear the others talking about how great Jacob was, and that maybe there was no need for any more thanking. All of a sudden, Grandpa’s cell phone rang. It was the usual melodic sounds of Sharon Van Etten’s, “One Day.”
“I’ll get it,” I yelled and ran to the kitchen counter.
“Finally.” Grandpa blew out a breath and grew a genuine smile.
When I returned, Grandpa was cutting the turkey. “Put it on speaker, please. And lay it there.” Grandpa pulled the carving knife away from the turkey and pointed to an empty spot on the table, next to the turkey.
I first answered it, I wanted to say hi to Sophie and let her know that Jacob just left. But when I answered it, it wasn’t Sophie; it was a man asking for Grandpa.
After verifying that he had the right number and person, I laid the phone down. “It’s not her,” I said, and pushed the speaker button.
Grandpa stopped carving. “Hello.”
“Sir,” the stern voice barked. “You are identified as the ICE—in case of emergency—person on the cell phone of a Ms. Sophie Hernandez. Is that correct?”
Silence filled the room, not a sound could be heard.
“Yes,” Grandpa replied sheepishly. He then slumped, seemingly in pain. “Is she…” His voice cracked. “Is she okay?”
“I’m sorry I have to tell you this sir,” the voice said.
Grandpa sat on the chair, at the head of the table, tears in his eyes. Then, shaky-voiced, he asked, “What?”
“Ms. Hernandez and her son were killed in automobile accident this morning. We’d like you to ID the bodies.”
Abruptly, Harper got out of her chair and approached Grandpa. She touched the arm that held his head upright, and said, “Ce ed ce oves u.”
Grandpa reached out and pulled Harper in for a hug.
All of a sudden, the room rippled. Everyone swayed, while fear jumped from our faces.
“No way!” Isaiah shouted. “The room is shaking again!”
“And Harper talked to a ghost!” I yelled, joining in the outcry. I turned and saw Isaiah’s big brown eyes, focus on the goosebumps that were rising from his forearms.
Then it hit me. “Oh no!” I yelled.
I jumped from the chair, and tripped to the ground. On all fours, with fierce determination, I crawled to the couch and opened up the shades. Immediately, I saw Jacob. He was walking backward, smiling and waving at me. Seemingly with magic hands, Jacob reached out and wiped the tears that flowed down my cheeks. With each backward step, he became more-and-more invisible, until he completely faded into a ball of light.
Epilogue
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Jacob had gone to Heaven to be with our Father. And everyone knew we were visited by a spirit, or an angel; and, in some way, a messenger of God. So with our parents in on the whole ghostly/angel—paranormal thing, it made sense that we could tell them about the town beneath the Christmas tree. But as we discussed it later, we kids thought we would keep that one to ourselves—for now.
I wonder how, while he was with us, Jacob got away without lifting a thing. But for his cell phone, which I’m sure was heavenly as well, he didn’t seem to lift any objects. A mystery I’ll continue to ponder the rest of my life. Now that I think about it, I’m not really sure I even felt his hugs, and maybe I was wiping my own tears? There are a couple of things I know for sure, however. For instance, when I see an ashy person walking around amongst us, I know he or she might already be dead—an angel, for reals. And if the atmosphere, or the air around you, ripples, someone important in your life may have moved on…
Every now-and-again I think about why we’ve been picked for these random adventures, but have yet to find an answer. I also think about Jacob’s Christmas speech, and how Jacob affected our lives. His appearance brought a bright light of joy, and a bundle of love to our family. Jacob also
helped us save a life, and perhaps two if the boy would have continued on his downward-spiraled path.
“Wherever you are Jacob, you are truly amazing. We were blessed to have had you in our lives. And it definitely was a Christmas we’ll never forget. Say hi to Sophie for me.”
About the Author
JR Wirth
J.R. Wirth continues his mastery of twisted family holidays, while adding a bit of horror in his latest—Destiny’s Lot: A Halloween Love Story. His stories always depict the depth of the human condition, and emotional rollercoasters we all experience, but introduce ghouls and the children of the damned and you get a fun, thrilling, unconventional love story for the ages. The flawed characters continue to engage and pull us in.
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