by Joy Redmond
Mama Deer batted her lashes and nuzzled each hand that reached out to pet her.
Papa Deer sniffed hands, snorted and turned his head.
After a few minutes, Nana stood on a bale of hay and rang a little bell. “Okay, everyone, form a line and start filling your plates. Take a seat anywhere you want, and after Pawpaw says the blessing, we can let the party begin!”
Baby Deer nudged my leg with his head. I bent down and stuck my ear to his lips. “Can I sit at the table beside you? I won’t talk. I promise.”
“Okay. That’ll be cool. Nobody will be able to believe their eyes.” I walked toward the table, telling Baby Deer to follow me. He walked the best he could with the cast on his front hooves and smiled all the way. Then he sat on his haunches and placed his front hooves on the edge of the table. He smiled as if he were a people and looked up and down the table, eying each person, one at a time.
I said proudly, “He likes to set at a table like a people … er … I mean like a person. I taught him to do that. He’s very smart. Everybody already knows about his operation for his hooves, which explains his blue cast. He’ll have two wear them for two more months, and then we’ll know if the operation was a success.”
Everybody applauded, and Uncle Scott and Daddy whistled through their teeth. Even the youngest ones clapped their hands, though some of them were too little to know why they were clapping.
Mama fixed my plate while I fixed one for Baby Deer. We took our seats and Pawpaw said the blessing.
After the amen, Pawpaw said happily, “Okay, everyone, dig in. My special eggnog will come later.”
Pawpaw made eggnog with what he called a special ingredient. Last year I watched him pour liquid into the eggnog from a bottle, and when he set the empty bottle on the counter, I picked it up and read, “Rum.”
I whispered into Baby Deer’s ear. “Maybe drinking some of Pawpaw’s special eggnog will get your papa in a good mood.”
Baby Deer giggled, bringing gasps from everybody at the table.
Thinking quickly I said, “Yup, I taught him how to giggle, too.” I shoved Baby Deer’s head into his plate. “That’ll be enough out of you,” I mumbled.
Baby Deer licked his plate, trying to look innocent, but I could see mischief in his eyes. He was thinking about talking. I just knew it.
Baby Deer ate everything on his plate, then looked at me, his eyes asking for more. I refilled his plate and gave him an extra helping of Aunt Cathye’s sweet potato soufflé.
When they were finished, the adults sat back in their chairs and rubbed their stuffed bellies.
Nana stood at the head of the table and said, “Before everybody gets up and starts milling around, I’d like all of my children to gather your children and grandchildren around you. Don’t ask questions, just humor me, okay?”
Nana whispered in my ear.
“Are you sure?” I asked, wondering if I had gone deaf or Nana had gone daft.
“I’m sure,” she said. “Now do exactly as I said.”
GIGGLE JUICE
I whispered the same words into Baby Deer’s ears that Nana had whispered to me. Baby Deer smiled and followed me to the stall where I whispered the same words to his parents. Mama Deer batted her lashes and nodded, but Papa Deer snorted and shook his head.
He wasn’t going to cooperate just as I suspected. I whispered, “Papa Deer, won’t you do this for me? It’ll only take a minute. Please.”
Papa Deer looked at me and replied softly, “For you, I will. You and your family have been nice to my family. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you,” I said, hugging his neck. “Now, if you’ll follow me—and remember your cue.”
Then we all walked back to the gathering, where I climbed to the top of a small stack of hay bales.
The Deer family stood beside the lighted deer set. I cleared my throat. “May I have everyone’s attention again,” I said. “I was pleased to introduce the family of deer to you earlier, but we have another surprise for you. But first, I’d like everyone to please place your right hand over your hearts and raise your left hand in the air.”
When everyone had their hands in place, I continued, “Please repeat after me. I promise that I will never tell a living soul what I’m about to hear.”
Voices rang out, “I promise.” Strange looks were in all their eyes.
“Okay, now that you’ve all promised to keep it to yourself, I’d like to make a formal introduction.” I turned to the Deer family and said, “Nana’s family, I’d like you to meet the Deer family, Mama, Papa, and Baby Deer.”
Nana’s family said, “Nice to meet you, deer family.”
“And now,” I said with a big smile, “Deer family, I’d like you to meet Nana’s family.” I pointed my index finger and called names. “Aunt Cathye and her daughters Christina and Crystal, my first cousins, and their mates. The little ones with them are my second cousins.” I sucked in a deep breath, pointed and continued.
“Uncle Scott, Aunt Beth and their children, Brandon, Ashley, and Dorian, my first cousins, and their mates. The little ones with them are my second cousins.”
Another deep breath.
Then I pointed to my left, and said, “This is my mama, Michelle, and my daddy, Marcus—and I’m their daughter, Julia.”
In unison, Mama, Papa and Baby Deer said, “Nice to meet you, Nana’s family.”
There was an audible gasp and then a stunned silence. Not a sound was heard until Caitlin looked at her mother and yelled, “See, Mama, I told you the deer could talk, but you laughed at me and said I was making things up.”
I stomped over to Caitlin with my hands on my hips. “You promised you wouldn’t tell, you big blabbermouth!”
“Grandnan,” Caitlin whined. “Tell Julia to stop being mean to me. I’m not a blabbermouth!” She shot me a dirty look and stuck out her tongue.
Nana gently tapped us on the back of the head. “Will you two zip it?” Then she smiled at the rest of the family and continued, “The cat is finally out of the bag. And everybody promised they wouldn’t tell, and I trust you to keep your promises for the safety of the Deer.”
“You have our solemn promise,” everybody said again.
I continued my speech. “They are deer, but their last name is spelled with a capital D.”
Uncle Scott said, “When I was young, I helped my grandpa work on the farm, and his last name was Farmer. So, I guess the last name Deer is fitting for deer.”
I finished my speech with the story of how the Deer had been granted the ability to speak, and everybody agreed it was a miracle.
The adults and children took turns carrying Baby Deer. The sound of his laughter told me it was the most exciting day of his life.
Mama Deer rubbed everybody’s arms with her head, licked hands, batted her lashes and acted as if she were a queen.
Papa Deer had done his part, and he didn’t seem to want to do any more, so he snorted and trotted back into the stall.
I joined him, put my arm around his neck, and said, “I know it’s hard being cooped up in the barn.”
“I can’t stand much more, Julia,” he said sadly. “I’m a deer and I have to be free to run in the woods. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to explode and my antlers are going to blow off my head.”
“I understand,” I said. Then I added, “I’ll be right back.”
I stuck my head out of the stall and scanned the barn. Everybody was talking to Mama and Baby Deer, and Nana was thumbing through her Christmas song book, so nobody was paying any attention to me. Pawpaw had brought in a punchbowl filled with eggnog, placed it on the table, and then gone back outside to smoke his pipe.
I ambled over to the punchbowl, dipped a Dixie cup into the eggnog, and sneaked back to Papa Deer. “Here, drink this. I think you’ll like it. It’s for adults only, but you’re an adult, so it should be okay. It’s Pawpaw’s special mixture.”
He drank it down in one gulp, licked his lips, and said, “This is go
od stuff. Pawpaw is a good mixer.”
I rubbed his back for a few minutes and gently said, “I know you want to run, but we needed to keep you safe from hunters and you needed to be with Baby Deer when he was so sick. Mama Deer was frantic and she needed you, too.”
Papa Deer nodded as I spoke, and then without warning, he burst out laughing. He finally caught his breath and asked, “What is that stuff, giggle juice?”
“I’ve seen Pawpaw act silly and laugh after he had a glass or too. Maybe it should be called giggle juice, but we call it eggnog,” I said.
“Do you think I could have some more?”
I sneaked another cup full, which Papa Deer drank quickly. Then he threw his head back and said, “I think I’ll go out and socialize. You have a nice family and I shouldn’t be rude.”
I smiled as he walked away somewhat unsteady.
“What a Christmas,” I whispered as I scanned the happy faces in the barn.
Nana finally made the children stop feeding Baby Deer because she said he was going to be sick and she was out of Pepto-Bismol. Mama Deer finished the left over green beans and corn on the cob while Papa Deer finished off the sweet potato soufflé. I had never seen Papa Deer so happy.
Nana then announced, “It’s time to sing Christmas carols.”
I knew that singing carols was Nana’s favorite part of Christmas Day. All of my aunts, uncles, and cousins had great singing voices and they blended so beautifully it was as good as listening to the Tabernacle Choir, to me.
The Deer sang the songs I had taught them—including Papa Deer. When they finished, Nana’s family applauded.
Papa Deer took a bow.
After the singing, Pawpaw announced it was time for eggnog. The adults lined up and each adult filled a cup.
Pawpaw held a Dixie cup into the air, and said, “Merry Christmas, everybody. Here’s mud in your eye!”
Papa Deer came up beside me and asked, “Why did he say that? It isn’t mud and it doesn’t belong in your eye!”
“It’s another people saying,” I explained. “Pawpaw said the saying came from the Gospel of St. John. It’s supposed to mean healing and well-being, and Pawpaw says it every year. And he said some people make a toast and say it’s supposed to mean good luck for farmers to reap good crops.”
“Well, whatever people want to believe is okay with me,” Papa Deer said.
Just as we finished our conversation, Nana plugged in the tree and the deer set.
Then we all sat around the tree and exchanged homemade presents. I was always amazed at the artistic and creative ability of my family.
By seven o’clock the family was ready to call it a day. Hugs, kisses, and best wishes were exchanged, and I stood in the doorway and waved as the four cars drove down the driveway.
Then Mama and Daddy kissed me bye and said they’d come get me when I was ready to come home. I waved until the SUV was out of sight.
I turned to the Deer family. “I’m going inside the trailer and warm up.” After the sun had gone down, the old lopsided barn had started to get cold.
“We’ll keep you warm, Julia,” said Baby Deer.
“Thank you, but I want to get to bed pretty soon,” I said. Then I waved to them and said, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Julia,” said the Deer family. “Goodnight Nana and Pawpaw, and thank you for a wonderful barn Christmas.”
Nana said, “You’re very welcome.”
Pawpaw said, “It was our pleasure.”
I said, “See you in the morning.”
We went inside the trailer and Nana fixed us some hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows floating on top. “This will warm our innards,” she said, sitting three cups on the table. We sat around the table drinking the hot chocolate and soon we were warm as toast.
“Truth be told, it’s been the best Christmas of my life,” Nana said. “And I’ve had—” Nana paused. “I’ve had at least forty-five of them.”
“Truth be told, it’s been the best Christmas of my life,” said Pawpaw. “And I’ve had sixty-nine of them,” Then he looked at Nana and grinned. “Nana has had forty-five alright—plus twenty-one, or two, or three.” Then he ducked before Nana could swat him with the hand towel she was holding.
“Truth be told, it’s been the best Christmas of my life and I’ve had ten of them. And I’ll tell you something else, if I live to be a one-hundred, I can’t imagine having a better one.” No one has ever had a barn Christmas with a people family and a deer family.”
“Now that’s the truth,” Pawpaw said, laughing heartily.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, giving each of them a hug.
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight,” Pawpaw said as he stood and headed to the bedroom.
Nana smiled, shook her head, and said, “I’ll tell you, Pawpaw and Papa Deer are two of a kind. They do what’s expected of them for a celebration, and then it’s off to bed and they’re done for another year. Two old grumpies, that’s what they are.”
“Why don’t you play the piano and we’ll sing,” I suggested. “Pawpaw will sleep through it.”
“I’ll play and you sing,” Nana said. “I’ve strained my voice enough for one day, and your singing is sweet music to my ears.”
Nana sat down at the piano and I sang “We wish you a merry Christmas” at the top of my lungs, ending with a loud, “And a happy new year.”
“That was great, sweetheart,” Nana said. “But you look tired. We’ve had a big day, but wasn’t it wonderful?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “A wonderful Christmas that I’ll never forget!”
BOY DEER
The next morning I dragged myself out of bed and went into the kitchen. Nana had made me a stack of pancakes for breakfast. I quickly at them, finished my milk, wiped my mouth, thanked Nana, then headed out to the barn while Nana downloaded pictures from her camera into the computer so she could view them full screen.
I walked into the barn and stood for a few minutes, looking around, remembering our beautiful barn Christmas of the day before. I could clearly see everything and everybody as it had been. My mind was an excellent camera and I could view everything full screen anytime I wanted.
I ambled into the stall, where Baby Deer was lying on the soft straw, still wearing his red sweater. Mama Deer still had on her red bib with the bell tied to it, and Papa Deer was still in the corner with his head turned toward the wall.
“I think we can take off the sweater and bib, now,” I said, but neither of them wanted to, so I let them enjoy wearing their first-ever Christmas presents. Then I sat between Mama and Baby Deer and asked, “So how did you like you’re your first Christmas?”
“Christmas is the most fun either a deer or a people can have!” Baby Deer said happily. “I wish we could have Christmas every day.”
Mama Deer added, “And it was great to have Papa Deer joined in the fun. He sure was in a good mood for some reason. I guess Christmas can even make a grouch act happy.”
I thought for a minute, then said, “I have a confession to make. I gave Papa Deer some of Pawpaw’s special eggnog, and it seemed to perk him right up.”
“I see,” said Mama Deer. “Maybe you should bring him some more. He doesn’t seem all that happy this morning.”
Papa Deer looked at me, his eyes wide with excitement.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Pawpaw only fixes it once a year, on Christmas Day. I’m afraid that Papa Deer will have to wait until next year for a second helping.”
Papa Deer snorted and turned his head toward the wall again.
Baby Deer stuck his head under my armpit. I ran my fingers through the soft fur between his ears. Then I jerked my hand as if I had set it on a hot plate. “Snap!” I yelled as I parted his fur and looked at his head.
Then I jumped up and headed for the door. “I’ve got to get Nana. I’ll be back!”
“You’ll be back in a shake of a lamb’s tail?” Baby Deer called after me, but I didn’t answer.
Nana was lifting a pot of white beans. She startled and dropped the pot, splashing water and beans over the counter. “Well doodle berries, child, what is it? Is something wrong with his hooves?”
I gasp, still trying to catch my breath. “I think he has a terrible disease. I think he’s growing little cancers out of his head!”
Nana drew me close. “Honey, calm down. I don’t think deer can grow cancer on their heads. He probably rubbed his head against the wall and he has scabs. Rubbing his head against something hard is the only way he can scratch it.”
“No, Nana. They’re not scabs. I think they’re little cancers! We’ve got to get him to Dr. Tegethoff right away!”
“Good gravy,” Nana said as she untied her apron. “Let me get my coat and we’ll go see what’s going on out there.”
I raced to the barn and was by Baby Deer’s side before Nana made it across the back yard. I stroked his head, feeling the hard knots, wondering if he could be saved from the terrible disease.
Nana walked into the stall a bit out of breath. “What’s wrong with your head, little fellow?” she said as she slowly ran her hand across Baby Deer’s head and parted his fur.
Then she burst out laughing. “I know you’re scared out of your wits, but—” She stopped talking and laughed again.
I bristled. “How can you laugh at a time like this? Do you think it’s funny?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I don’t mean to laugh, but he’s not sick. He’s a buck and he is growing antlers. Nature is taking her course, honey. Baby Deer is growing up.”
“Antlers?” I said, feeling silly. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. I got all jacked out of shape for nothing.” Then I laughed, too.