“Did the boys bring back some meat from the farm?” he asked.
“Yes, they’re hanging it in the shed.” Monica stepped over the mattress on the floor and sat on the worn couch. “I think they invited the motorcycle gang over for dinner tomorrow, too.”
Irma looked around in alarm. “Where on earth will we all fit? With ten of us and six of them, plus two kids, we’ll have standing room only.”
“We’ll have to eat in shifts”, Monica said. “They will be missing their families, I’m sure, and it’ll be good to have some new faces in here.”
“We don’t need new faces,” Irma answered her. “We need to have a normal life back with FEWER faces in the house.”
Tony looked at her with concern. “That’s not like you Mother.”
“I know, I know.” And she sat down on the nearest chair. “But you must admit it’s getting a little crowded in here, and we never have any privacy. Since George and Melanie and little Ty came, there isn’t a spare inch left to move.”
She kicked the mattress that Monica had sidestepped. “Even the living room has become a bedroom.”
Tony put his arms around her thin shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. “I know it’s tough on you.” He sympathized. “The rest of us at least go outside and get some fresh air, while you are housebound most of the time.”
“We’ll move everything out of here tomorrow,” Monica said. “And we’ll have to start the meat cooking tonight and keep the fire burning hot instead of banking it. George and Melanie can keep an eye on it since they are sleeping in here.”
“Dad’s right, Mom. You’re in the house all the time. Why don’t you go for a walk right now? The sidewalk is clear and there is nothing for you to do in here for the moment. I’ll find your boots.” Monica laid the now sleeping baby in his playpen and started to rummage in the coat closet.
“We’ll both go.” Tony gave her shoulders another squeeze. “It’s not too cold today and the fresh air will do you good.”
She smiled at him. “I’m sorry I’m complaining, honey. We’re lucky to be warm and fed. Lots of people will be having a miserable Christmas.”
“Okay, let’s go.” And a few minutes later they were stamping through the snow, holding hands and laughing like teenagers. Monica looked out the window at them and smiled. “They are quite an inspiration,” she thought. “I hope they like the present we have for them.”
This was a good time, while everybody was out of the house or sleeping, to bring down the toys from the attic and decide what to give Jack and Ty for gifts. They would have to remain unwrapped since all the paper in the house had been used for fire lighting, but maybe there were some old gift bags or cardboard boxes still hidden somewhere.
The next morning, Ty was awake before the sun. Cautiously he lifted his head, peering over his Dad’s broad shoulder at the tree.
“I hope Santa found us,” he thought. “Grandma Irma said he would, but with no lights on the tree, how could he?”
He lay back down on the pillow and listened to his parent’s breathe. He knew they were worried. He might be only six, but he recognized that things were not as they should be. First, the power had gone out. Then his mom and dad stopped going to work. It had been cold in the apartment and he noticed that his mom wasn’t eating anything at mealtime.
When his Dad had said they would have to leave and go find something to eat, his mom had cried. But after a long…long walk, here they were, warm and toasty beside the fire in Gramma Irma and Grampa Tony’s house. He wasn’t sure who all the rest of the people in the house were, or why he had never heard of these grandparents before, but as long as Mom and Dad were close by and he was warm, things were good.
And there were gifts under the tree. He could see them more clearly now as the sun rose and the room began to brighten.
His dad turned over to face him and the bushy beard tickled his face. He giggled.
“Santa came.”
“He did?” George looked towards the tree. “Wow! He did find us. I told you he would.”
“Can I open presents?”
“Now listen, son.” George hesitated. “Santa’s power is out too, so there might not be all you wanted under that tree. So, don’t be too disappointed, okay?”
“I won’t.” Ty wiggled happily. “It’s Christmas, Dad.”
“Of course it is.” George stood up and pulled on the pants he had left on the floor beside him. “I’ll check the fire. You stay here and keep warm. We have to wait for everybody to come down before even looking at the presents.”
“But wait,” he said in mock surprise. “Here’s a stocking beside you, and I think it has your name on it.”
“Really?” the boy squealed and sat up straight, letting the blankets fall to his waist. “Can I have it, Dad?”
The next few minutes were spent emptying the stocking that his mother had fashioned from an old curtain. When the others drifted into the room for their morning cup of hot water, he was anxious to show off his treasures.
“A brand new pencil and notebook.” He laid it on the table. “A matchbox car and a pocket knife.”
He grinned his gap-toothed smile. “There’s even some candy.” The adults all smiled indulgently at him. Irma was glad she had found the old box of Christmas candy in with the decorations. She didn’t know how old it was, but candy didn’t go bad, did it?
Jack also got a stocking with a pair of mittens knitted by Stella and the lone candy cane that been unearthed.
“We’ll open gifts after breakfast and chores,” Tony ruled. “The motorcycle gang will be over about one and we’ll have dinner with them and a little party.”
“Stew for breakfast, again.” Irma looked around the crowded room. “And let’s clear everything out of here except the table and chairs.” She looked sternly at George. “Did you keep that fire burning so the two roasts cooked? Twenty pounds of meat takes a long time.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t let you down.”
“Okay then. We’ll start the vegetables so they will be ready when we want to have dinner.”
She sighed. “No turkey, I’m afraid, but I did find an onion to add to the potatoes and carrots we usually have.”
“And,” she added, “there’s always sauerkraut.” Everybody groaned.
“No moaning,” Tony said firmly. “We are all together, we are warm and it’s Christmas.”
“And Santa came.” Ty crowed.
“Yes, he did!” They all smiled at the boy and raised their mugs in a toast. “Merry Christmas everybody.” Said Tony.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I don’t know why we call them the motorcycle gang,” Irma whispered to Monica when the knock came on the door.
“I don’t know why, either,” Monica answered. “Turns out they are a bunch of nice young men who were just looking for food and shelter. Probably the beards,” she added.
The house was redolent with the odours of cooking meat, wood fire and too many people packed into a small space. The “gang” had shown up with gifts.
“Sorry, Sam”, Rick apologized. “We had to sacrifice two of the chickens for our contribution.”
Sam shrugged. “Well, they were just hanging around anyway. It’s not like we were getting eggs from them.”
“And one more thing...” Mike held out his offering. “It’s a cake,” There were gasps all around the room.
“I found a bit of flour in the far reaches of the cupboard, and cooked it in the dutch oven on top of the stove.”
“Can we open presents now?” Ty pleaded.
“Of course, of course.” Tony stood by the tree. “Everybody sit down and I’ll play Santa.” He began to rummage under the tree. “There’s something here that says to Ty, From Santa.”
The little boy’s eyes shone with anticipation as he struggled to open a large cardboard box. He had been eying that box all day and could hardly wait to see what it was.
“A sleigh!” he crowed.
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bsp; His mother looked gratefully at Jason. She had seen him patiently cleaning and polishing the old sleigh that used to be his. “You have to share with baby Jack, I think,” she told the little boy.
“Jack’s pretty little, yet,” Monica said. “I think that sleigh will be yours, Ty.”
Everybody had pitched in to make sure there were gifts for all. Stella had been knitting mittens for weeks and everybody got a pair. Sam had dug through his barn and found some snowshoes that were perfect for Jason and Monica. Tony presented Irma with a small wood carving and Irma gave Monica a pair of antique earrings that had belonged to her mother. George and Melanie each received a package of badly needed, almost new, socks and underwear. The two young men, Tom and Adnan each received one of Tony’s hunting rifles, complete with ammunition.
“I’ve never had a Christmas present before,” Adnan whispered to Tom.
“I’ve never had a gun before,” Tom answered, stroking the barrel lovingly.
“That comes with shooting lessons,” Tony said sternly. “And there is no more ammo so you have to be very careful what you use it for.”
They both nodded silently, their grins showing how pleased they were.
After a hearty meal of chicken and beef stew, topped off with the slightly flat cake, they all felt that Christmas had been a perfect day.
“But wait,” Jason told his parents. “I have one more gift for you”.
“What could it be?” Jason disappeared up the stairs and came back carrying his guitar.
“Isn’t that broken?” George looked sheepishly at the floor.
Jason turned the guitar over to show the plywood bottom. He had patched the hole and restored his beloved instrument to working condition.
“I have a song for you.” He ducked his head bashfully. “Monica and I wrote it. There wasn’t any shopping mall, and we wanted to give you something special.”
His fingers brushed the strings and he began to croon:
“Momma and Daddy sitting on the stoop
Waiting for sunset years.
Watching the days and the nights go by
Waiting for kids to come home.
Momma and Daddy gave them their lives
And now they are left all alone.”
His fingers began to move faster as the tempo increased:
“Momma and Daddy smiling and happy
The family is gathered around
Watching the days and nights go by
Waiting for lights to come on.
Momma and Daddy gave them their lives
And now the loving comes home.”
When he had finished, there was a moment of silence. Irma brushed tears from her eyes and Tony grasped her hand. Then there was applause.
Comments flew around the musician’s head.
“Wow!”
“Great job”
“The best gift of the day.”
“Monica wrote the words.” He protested. “I just put it to music.”
“Well, it’s wonderful.” Irma reached up to hug her son. “It’s a gift I will treasure forever.” She held out her hands to the room. “This could have been a miserable day,” she told the group. “Instead we have all come together, made some new friends, and found out what we can do with very little. I think we should all bow our heads and thank God that we are here, warm and safe, with full stomachs and happy hearts.”
After a short prayer, the visitors began to make their way to the door. They shook hands with the men, hugged the women and gave Ty a pat on the head.
When they had gone out into the winter night, the room seemed almost spacious.
“Let’s clear up and put the mattresses back in here,” Irma ordered. “There should be hot water in the kettle, but we’ll need more wood. Then this momma is off to bed. It’s been a long and exciting day.”
She smiled down at George and Melanie’s small son. “Tomorrow your daddy can take you for a sleigh ride.” She told him.
Everybody was glad to comply and soon the house settled into darkness. George and Melanie with their boy between them, snuggled on the mattress on the floor. Upstairs, Jason and Monica bundled Jack into his crib and after a few whispered endearments, fell quickly asleep. The two older couples, covered with extra quilts, gave each other a quick peck on the cheek and prepared for sleep.
In the attic, close to the chimney, Adnan and Tom fingered their new guns and whispered excitedly about shooting lessons and hunting.
On his mat in the kitchen, the old dog, Rufus, lifted his head and growled softly. His ears perked up and he padded to the kitchen door. He whined and scratched at the door, then laid down with his nose pressed against it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was late the next morning when the family began to drift into the living room. George and Melanie rolled up the mattress and built up the fire in the heater. The kettle steamed cheerfully from its accustomed spot.
George peered through the window at the thermometer. “It’s only minus 18,” he told his young son. “I think we can take that new sleigh out for a test drive.”
“Will you pull me, Dad?”
“Of course. Even though we’re in the mountains, there aren’t a lot of tobogganing hills around here. We’ll have to use manpower.” George flexed his muscles. “I think there’s enough power to pull you.”
“Yeah!” The boy scampered to the closet. “Let’s go right now.”
His father laughed. “Let’s eat first.” He said. “I’ll need my strength for all that hard work.”
“Stew again.” Said Monica as she filled bowls and passed them around the table.
“We are running low on vegetables.” She told Jason. “Yesterday kind of finished off what we have in the house. We’ll need to bring in more from the root cellar.”
“I’ll do that.” He said around a mouthful of meat. “And then maybe we can take the boys out for a shooting lesson.” The teenagers glanced at each other and grinned.
“And then, we’ll bring some more wood from the bush,” Jason added. “It’ll give us a chance to try out the snowshoes too. They might come in very handy before the winter is done.”
“Make sure you shoot away from the house.” His mother admonished. “And make sure you know where everybody is so you don’t shoot one of us.”
“Well, Mom. We won’t shoot you since you don’t go outside much these days.” Her son teased.
She laughed. “If I could reach you, I’d give you a smack.” She teased back. “Anyway,” she looked at her husband who was across from her at the table. “Maybe this would be a good day to go and see how the Dennis family is doing. It’s a nice day and it would be neighbourly at Christmas.”
“Good idea.” He answered. “Maybe Sam and Stella would like a walk too. If we leave right away we can be back before dark.”
“No”, Sam answered. “I’m going over to check on the horses. The motorcycle gang…” and he laughed at the nickname…” are doing their best, but they are city boys at heart and not always aware of what’s going on outside.”
“They make a great cake, though.” He pushed back his chair and rubbed his flat stomach. “Even without sugar, it tasted pretty good.”
“Stella?” Tony looked at her expectantly.
“I think I’ll stay here and look after Jack,” Stella answered. “That way, Monica can go out with the boys. Melanie and I can cut up the vegetables when Jason brings them in.”
“Okay.” Tony stood up. “Come on, Mother. It’s you and me and Rufus, I guess.” He looked around the room. “Say, where is Rufus anyway? He’s usually right under Jack and Ty at mealtime.”
“I let him out before the sun was up.” George looked out the window. “He shot out of here like a cannon and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Well, he needs to eat if we’re going on a walk.” Tony opened the back door and began to call the dog. “That’s funny,” he said to himself. “He usually comes running.” He whistled again but there was no answering bark.
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Everybody was bundling up to go outside, so he joined them in pulling on his boots and hooded parka. “You wait here,” he told his wife. “I’ll find Rufus and then we’ll go for our walk.”
Outside, they all began to whistle and call. Ty’s piping voice mingled with the deeper ones of the men and Monica’s shrill whistle.
No dog came running around the barn, or from the trees and Tony began to worry out loud. “Where could he be? He’s too old and slow to go very far, and he ALWAYS comes when I whistle.” He kept walking towards the barn. Maybe the silly old thing had got himself trapped in there. It had happened before when he nosed the door open, and it closed behind him. Funny he didn’t bark though.
“Dad, Dad, come quick.” Jason’s shout cut through his thoughts.
Tony turned and ran towards the root cellar. The door was flung open and Jason was struggling to carry something through it.
“Oh my God. What happened to Rufus?” Tony gasped as he caught sight of the bundle.
“He’s been hurt! Hurry, let’s get him into the house.”
Gently they laid the injured dog on his mat in the kitchen. Irma hurried off to find bandages. Blood was seeping through his thick fur, forming a puddle under him.
Tony held the large head and crooned to his friend of fifteen years. “What happened?” Monica rushed in with the two boys behind her.
Jason looked up from where he was probing the dog for the source of the blood. “I don’t know, but it looks like he was stabbed. And I think the root cellar is empty. All the vegetables we had there are gone.”
“Gone!” Irma handed him a basin of warm water. “What do you mean gone?”
“Gone.” He started to wash the dog’s wound. “I found old Rufus on the floor bleeding and the door wide open. Someone helped themselves.”
By this time the entire household, except Sam, was in the kitchen listening in stunned surprise.
“But what will we do?” Stella sat down on the nearest chair and put her hand over her eyes in despair. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Someone hungry.” George pulled his son closer to himself. “And desperate.”
The Incident | Book 1 | They Called It The Incident Page 8