16 December 2011
480
R. Linda:
Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la, la la la la! Or not. What do you do when you have a major holiday crisis? I discovered what rather by accident and thought I'd pass it along.
I had gone to church last Sunday, and at the end of service, I saw some churchmen setting up the manger scene. I wandered over, seeing a friend of mine, and engaged him in conversation while Tonya fetched the boyos from Sunday School.
"Well, we have the manger up," Searle said, "we need to get over to the church's storage unit behind Murphy's and get the holy family."
"Could I help?" I offered, not wanting to, but I felt like I had to.
"Well . . . you would be doing me a great favour if you could manage bringing the baby Jesus and the hay crib." He said.
"For sure," I said, shuffling me feet from the cold.
"Dick and I will go over and get the donkey, camel and lamb. Johnny is going to affix the angel tonight and get the spots in. That leaves Tommy and Al to bring the holy family, and Mike and Ray will get the wise men. So if I can rely on you to get the baby Jesus and the crib, that would work."
"When are you doing this?" I asked. blowing on me hands to keep warm.
"Well, angel and lights this afternoon, and we don't want to be in Johnny's way, so Monday is the only night Tommy and Al have, so they'll be here tomorrow around 8-ish. Dick can't do tomorra, so the only time he can make it is Wednesday, so can you come either time?"
"Uh, no, I work late; how's Friday?" Actually, I had that play, and I didn't want to admit to being in tights spouting Shakespeare. Friday, I wasn't required because of some Christmas pageant being held instead of the play. I do notice that it seems New Englanders go to the extreme to explain something instead of saying everyone will be over at the storage unit sometime this week. Instead, it's this day, this group, this time, oi!
"Well, Friday works," Searle said, hammering the last nail.
"Mike and Ray going to be there?" I asked, realising no date was mentioned for them.
"No, they only have Tuesday. If any of those other nights work for ya, you can meet them over there."
I almost threw up me hands but caught meself.
"Unfortunately, Friday be me only night," I said, half hoping he'd say that was too late. But he didn't!
So, arrangements for me to meet up with Father Nolan Friday night for the key to the storage unit were made, and that was it.
Every night on me way home I'd notice another set of figures would be added to the manger. Friday came, and I had me dinner and then was about to go on over to see Father Nolan for the key when O'Hare piped up and asked if he could go with me. Tonya said it was fine; it was a nice thing to be doing together, so off we went, all bundled up against the cold.
Father was in the vestry with the key and told me he'd look out for us and help place the crib and baby Jesus, but he's an older gent and I told him we'd do it, not to worry. He patted O'Hare on the head and told him what a fine young laddie he was growing up to be and that a good, strong lad like him was needed to lend his Da a hand. So, all puffed up, O'Hare salivated to do his Catholic best.
We got to the storage bin and I found the hay crib was a real hay crib. It was huge. I put the seats down in the back of me car to slide it in the boot and then found there was no room for the baby Jesus. He was bigger than me, six-year-old O'Hare! And just as heavy.
"Well, ya could bungee him on da roof," O'Hare suggested.
"Oh, I couldn't do that, be disrespectful," I said, thinking to meself I should try to tie the crib to the roof, but it was heavy, and well, no. After a few chilly moments, I decided O'Hare's way was the only way, and so I tied the baby Jesus to the roof of me motor, and off we set for St. Patrick's. As I drove, I thought of the image of the Christ child tied to me roof, and I had to admit, in the dark, it sort of looked real.
Well, the dirt roads are bumpy and dark. The baby Jesus was vibrating on top of me roof, and we both could hear it. I was filled with trepidation that it would crack, so I got out, and since there happened to be a blanket of Guido's in the car, I refitted the plaster statue with the blanket so it wouldn't scratch the car top, and the blanket would buffer the plaster statue so it wouldn't crack either. Once I was satisfied, we drove off in a cloud of dirt and rocks onward to the church.
As I pulled out on the paved road toward town, I was driving at 5 mph to be safe with me rooftop burden, I saw this giant truck coming up fast behind me. Of course, that made me nervous, so I stepped on the gas. O'Hare warned me, but I didn't heed him; as I sped up, the truck bore down, and I realised the driver was Percy, and it was that colossal tow truck! I started to slow down because I didn't forget that besides the town tow trucker operator, he was also a town policeman. I didn't want to be under the 35 mph limit or above it. Percy was just as likely to pull me over for under the limit than over. Well, this speeding up was the worst thing I could have done because suddenly, in me rearview, I could see the baby Jesus airborne and the tow truck hitting it to smithereens.
"YOU KILT DA BABY JESUS!" O'Hare screamed at me.
"Oh crap!" I said, pulling over and as I did, so did the tow truck. Oh great. "You stay here," I ordered O'Hare and got out. Sure enough, the plaster was pulverised powder now, and of course, Percy pulled over and got out, and he was frantic. I had to stop and wonder.
"I killed your kid! I ran him over! Oh my God, why would you strap your kid to the roof of your car? Are you crazy? I was trying to catch up to you to pull you over and get him off! You'll go to jail for certain!"
"No, you don't understand . . . "
"Oh my God, oh my God, I ran over a baby. Where is he?" He was running around like a crazy person, and I was trying to explain, but he was too emotional until he turned on me. "YOU, it figures it would be YOU. You are about to be arrested for endangering and causing the death of a minor!"
He was screaming at me. and, of course, this scared the bejesus out of O'Hare. The poor kid opened the window and yelled, "DUN'T YOU YELL AT ME DA OR I'LL PUNCH YA IN DA NOSE!" His lower lip was quivering. I knew the waterworks were coming. I thought O'Hare's threat wasn't exactly helpful, but it got Percy quiet enough because he looked from O'Hare to the road and then at me. He thought he had run over O'Hare, but there was O'Hare hanging out the window. I explained that he didn't run over a living, breathing child. Gees. When I told him what had happened, he stood there looking at me quite relieved (at first), and then he became angry all over again.
"YOU didn't tell me any different! YOU let me think what I did! What is wrong with you, O'Sullivan?"
Oi. I calmly explained me problem with little space in the car and how I had remedied it. Okay. not so well, but I would have been fine if I didn't encounter . . . well, you know. He did know, but his grin was evil and malicious.
"So you are out a baby Jesus. I am a wreck from your inability to take one thing over to the church and return for the other."
"Well, you can say that, but we really thought we could do this in one trip. It's cold, you know." I said stupidly.
He sighed, "We? Now I suppose yer gonna tell me it was the kid's idea."
"Wot ya gonner do da?" O'Hare shouted from the window.
"I dunno, I will be paying for a new baby Jesus, that's for sure," I mused.
"But they need one now. For the season," Percy said to me. "I got an i-deer. Follow me," he said, getting back in his tow truck and passing me as I got in and proceeded to follow. The town was open for shopping. We pulled into several spaces next to Kris Kringle's Toy Shop. Of course, O'Hare was in heaven we were going into a toy store. I told him no toys, Christmas was coming, so we got out and met Percy on the sidewalk.
"Okay, Sully, this is what we are going to do. You and the tyke are going in to find a baby doll. I'll go to Flora Dora's Fabric Shop and get some swaddling or whatever that stuff is. Then we'll go over to the church, and put the crib in and stick the bogus baby Jesus in the crib. No one will know because we'll swaddle it really well."
And with that, he left me speechless. There was nothing to do but look inside for a baby doll. Mr. Kringle was having a slow night, or maybe because it was near to closing, there were no customers but us. He immediately asked me if he could help. I told him I needed to buy a baby doll. He looked at O'Hare and whispered, "He'll grow out of it."
"I hurd dat!" O'Hare glared.
"No, not for him, it's a . . . it's a . . . for my niece."
"You ain't got no nie . . . " O'Hare started to say in that loud voice of his, but I put me hand over his mouth.
Kringle raised his brows but said not a word. We followed him to the doll section.
"Well, all of the baby-like dolls are gone. All I have are these new editions of Chatty Cathy." And he held one blond curly top rather large doll up to show me. He pulled the string, and she said, "Let's play!" Oh boy.
"Uh, you have anything smaller?"
"No, just the Chatty Cathy's blond or brunette." Kringle held up both.
O'Hare had wrinkled his nose, but what was I to do? I took the blond one. Cost me a lot of bucks, but I was stuck. We meet Percy outside. He had a bag of bandages that he called swaddling. I don't know what swaddling is, nor did he, and Flora didn't know either and said she didn't sell it. So he went to the chemists and got bandaging material. We were strapped for time, and there was nothing else for it. O'Hare got in the car as I tore Chatty from her box.
"THAT'S going to pass as the baby Jesus?" Percy asked incredulously.
"Well, it was all Kringle had."
"Okay, then, let's make do. I'll get the bandages or whatever this stuff is, and you take her clothes off."
Ordinarily, this would be viewed by anyone who did not know that we were not two perverts as a perverted act on a public street, especially at night. Kringle was just locking up his shop when he saw what we were doing. Then he realised it wasn't just me, but PERCY. He looked aghast. I couldn't let him leave, thinking we were two warped individuals, so I called him over, much to Percy's chagrin. I told him what happened, and once he understood, his eye twinkled with mirth, and he offered to help swaddle the doll.
"We need to get it up and over her head; the hair is much too bright, and Father Nolan will see it," he said, wrapping the doll like a mummy. Once satisfied, Kringle offered to follow us and keep Father Nolan busy. I tell ya, it was like being a juvenile delinquent out for a night of pulling the wool over the entire community's eyes and destroying a beloved part of Christmas.
All went according to plan as Kringle met Father Nolan and kept him inside as Percy, O'Hare and I got the crib and placed it in the manger. I ran back for the 'baby Jesus', ensuring the swaddling was secure.
"Okay, give me the changeling," Percy said to me.
"Changeling?" I said and started laughing, it was sort of funny.
Carefully, he put the changeling in the crib, and the three of us stood back and looked from afar. Nothing looked amiss except for the amount of swaddling, but it covered the doll well. It was about then that Kringle came down with the good Father to have a look, but Kringle knew to get the hell out of dodge so he just kept on going until he was in his car and away. The four of us stood a moment, then Percy said he had to shove off, and I said we did, too. Only Father Nolan asked me to go up and get his camera, being I was young and spry, and he was not. I had little choice, so leaving O'Hare at the crime scene, I ran up to the porch to fetch the camera.
Out of my range of hearing, O'Hare later told me that Father was scratching his head and muttering, "There is too much swaddling on that baby Jesus." And he started to go fix the swaddling. As he reached for the 'changeling,' it decided to talk and said, "Hi, my name is Cathy!" According to O'Hare, Father jumped back, and that's when he ran past me inside the rectory.
"What happened?" I asked O'Hare.
"He went ta fix da mummy wrappin'."
"Oh no," I said knowing full well what he saw.
"But Da, he musta not noticed cus he shouted, Jesus!"
Out of the mouth of babes. Um hum.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la, la la la la! Or not. What do you do when you have a major holiday crisis? I discovered what rather by accident and thought I'd pass it along.
I had gone to church last Sunday, and at the end of service, I saw some churchmen setting up the manger scene. I wandered over, seeing a friend of mine, and engaged him in conversation while Tonya fetched the boyos from Sunday School.
"Well, we have the manger up," Searle said, "we need to get over to the church's storage unit behind Murphy's and get the holy family."
"Could I help?" I offered, not wanting to, but I felt like I had to.
"Well . . . you would be doing me a great favour if you could manage bringing the baby Jesus and the hay crib." He said.
"For sure," I said, shuffling me feet from the cold.
"Dick and I will go over and get the donkey, camel and lamb. Johnny is going to affix the angel tonight and get the spots in. That leaves Tommy and Al to bring the holy family, and Mike and Ray will get the wise men. So if I can rely on you to get the baby Jesus and the crib, that would work."
"When are you doing this?" I asked. blowing on me hands to keep warm.
"Well, angel and lights this afternoon, and we don't want to be in Johnny's way, so Monday is the only night Tommy and Al have, so they'll be here tomorrow around 8-ish. Dick can't do tomorra, so the only time he can make it is Wednesday, so can you come either time?"
"Uh, no, I work late; how's Friday?" Actually, I had that play, and I didn't want to admit to being in tights spouting Shakespeare. Friday, I wasn't required because of some Christmas pageant being held instead of the play. I do notice that it seems New Englanders go to the extreme to explain something instead of saying everyone will be over at the storage unit sometime this week. Instead, it's this day, this group, this time, oi!
"Well, Friday works," Searle said, hammering the last nail.
"Mike and Ray going to be there?" I asked, realising no date was mentioned for them.
"No, they only have Tuesday. If any of those other nights work for ya, you can meet them over there."
I almost threw up me hands but caught meself.
"Unfortunately, Friday be me only night," I said, half hoping he'd say that was too late. But he didn't!
So, arrangements for me to meet up with Father Nolan Friday night for the key to the storage unit were made, and that was it.
Every night on me way home I'd notice another set of figures would be added to the manger. Friday came, and I had me dinner and then was about to go on over to see Father Nolan for the key when O'Hare piped up and asked if he could go with me. Tonya said it was fine; it was a nice thing to be doing together, so off we went, all bundled up against the cold.
Father was in the vestry with the key and told me he'd look out for us and help place the crib and baby Jesus, but he's an older gent and I told him we'd do it, not to worry. He patted O'Hare on the head and told him what a fine young laddie he was growing up to be and that a good, strong lad like him was needed to lend his Da a hand. So, all puffed up, O'Hare salivated to do his Catholic best.
We got to the storage bin and I found the hay crib was a real hay crib. It was huge. I put the seats down in the back of me car to slide it in the boot and then found there was no room for the baby Jesus. He was bigger than me, six-year-old O'Hare! And just as heavy.
"Well, ya could bungee him on da roof," O'Hare suggested.
"Oh, I couldn't do that, be disrespectful," I said, thinking to meself I should try to tie the crib to the roof, but it was heavy, and well, no. After a few chilly moments, I decided O'Hare's way was the only way, and so I tied the baby Jesus to the roof of me motor, and off we set for St. Patrick's. As I drove, I thought of the image of the Christ child tied to me roof, and I had to admit, in the dark, it sort of looked real.
Well, the dirt roads are bumpy and dark. The baby Jesus was vibrating on top of me roof, and we both could hear it. I was filled with trepidation that it would crack, so I got out, and since there happened to be a blanket of Guido's in the car, I refitted the plaster statue with the blanket so it wouldn't scratch the car top, and the blanket would buffer the plaster statue so it wouldn't crack either. Once I was satisfied, we drove off in a cloud of dirt and rocks onward to the church.
As I pulled out on the paved road toward town, I was driving at 5 mph to be safe with me rooftop burden, I saw this giant truck coming up fast behind me. Of course, that made me nervous, so I stepped on the gas. O'Hare warned me, but I didn't heed him; as I sped up, the truck bore down, and I realised the driver was Percy, and it was that colossal tow truck! I started to slow down because I didn't forget that besides the town tow trucker operator, he was also a town policeman. I didn't want to be under the 35 mph limit or above it. Percy was just as likely to pull me over for under the limit than over. Well, this speeding up was the worst thing I could have done because suddenly, in me rearview, I could see the baby Jesus airborne and the tow truck hitting it to smithereens.
"YOU KILT DA BABY JESUS!" O'Hare screamed at me.
"Oh crap!" I said, pulling over and as I did, so did the tow truck. Oh great. "You stay here," I ordered O'Hare and got out. Sure enough, the plaster was pulverised powder now, and of course, Percy pulled over and got out, and he was frantic. I had to stop and wonder.
"I killed your kid! I ran him over! Oh my God, why would you strap your kid to the roof of your car? Are you crazy? I was trying to catch up to you to pull you over and get him off! You'll go to jail for certain!"
"No, you don't understand . . . "
"Oh my God, oh my God, I ran over a baby. Where is he?" He was running around like a crazy person, and I was trying to explain, but he was too emotional until he turned on me. "YOU, it figures it would be YOU. You are about to be arrested for endangering and causing the death of a minor!"
He was screaming at me. and, of course, this scared the bejesus out of O'Hare. The poor kid opened the window and yelled, "DUN'T YOU YELL AT ME DA OR I'LL PUNCH YA IN DA NOSE!" His lower lip was quivering. I knew the waterworks were coming. I thought O'Hare's threat wasn't exactly helpful, but it got Percy quiet enough because he looked from O'Hare to the road and then at me. He thought he had run over O'Hare, but there was O'Hare hanging out the window. I explained that he didn't run over a living, breathing child. Gees. When I told him what had happened, he stood there looking at me quite relieved (at first), and then he became angry all over again.
"YOU didn't tell me any different! YOU let me think what I did! What is wrong with you, O'Sullivan?"
Oi. I calmly explained me problem with little space in the car and how I had remedied it. Okay. not so well, but I would have been fine if I didn't encounter . . . well, you know. He did know, but his grin was evil and malicious.
"So you are out a baby Jesus. I am a wreck from your inability to take one thing over to the church and return for the other."
"Well, you can say that, but we really thought we could do this in one trip. It's cold, you know." I said stupidly.
He sighed, "We? Now I suppose yer gonna tell me it was the kid's idea."
"Wot ya gonner do da?" O'Hare shouted from the window.
"I dunno, I will be paying for a new baby Jesus, that's for sure," I mused.
"But they need one now. For the season," Percy said to me. "I got an i-deer. Follow me," he said, getting back in his tow truck and passing me as I got in and proceeded to follow. The town was open for shopping. We pulled into several spaces next to Kris Kringle's Toy Shop. Of course, O'Hare was in heaven we were going into a toy store. I told him no toys, Christmas was coming, so we got out and met Percy on the sidewalk.
"Okay, Sully, this is what we are going to do. You and the tyke are going in to find a baby doll. I'll go to Flora Dora's Fabric Shop and get some swaddling or whatever that stuff is. Then we'll go over to the church, and put the crib in and stick the bogus baby Jesus in the crib. No one will know because we'll swaddle it really well."
And with that, he left me speechless. There was nothing to do but look inside for a baby doll. Mr. Kringle was having a slow night, or maybe because it was near to closing, there were no customers but us. He immediately asked me if he could help. I told him I needed to buy a baby doll. He looked at O'Hare and whispered, "He'll grow out of it."
"I hurd dat!" O'Hare glared.
"No, not for him, it's a . . . it's a . . . for my niece."
"You ain't got no nie . . . " O'Hare started to say in that loud voice of his, but I put me hand over his mouth.
Kringle raised his brows but said not a word. We followed him to the doll section.
"Well, all of the baby-like dolls are gone. All I have are these new editions of Chatty Cathy." And he held one blond curly top rather large doll up to show me. He pulled the string, and she said, "Let's play!" Oh boy.
"Uh, you have anything smaller?"
"No, just the Chatty Cathy's blond or brunette." Kringle held up both.
O'Hare had wrinkled his nose, but what was I to do? I took the blond one. Cost me a lot of bucks, but I was stuck. We meet Percy outside. He had a bag of bandages that he called swaddling. I don't know what swaddling is, nor did he, and Flora didn't know either and said she didn't sell it. So he went to the chemists and got bandaging material. We were strapped for time, and there was nothing else for it. O'Hare got in the car as I tore Chatty from her box.
"THAT'S going to pass as the baby Jesus?" Percy asked incredulously.
"Well, it was all Kringle had."
"Okay, then, let's make do. I'll get the bandages or whatever this stuff is, and you take her clothes off."
Ordinarily, this would be viewed by anyone who did not know that we were not two perverts as a perverted act on a public street, especially at night. Kringle was just locking up his shop when he saw what we were doing. Then he realised it wasn't just me, but PERCY. He looked aghast. I couldn't let him leave, thinking we were two warped individuals, so I called him over, much to Percy's chagrin. I told him what happened, and once he understood, his eye twinkled with mirth, and he offered to help swaddle the doll.
"We need to get it up and over her head; the hair is much too bright, and Father Nolan will see it," he said, wrapping the doll like a mummy. Once satisfied, Kringle offered to follow us and keep Father Nolan busy. I tell ya, it was like being a juvenile delinquent out for a night of pulling the wool over the entire community's eyes and destroying a beloved part of Christmas.
All went according to plan as Kringle met Father Nolan and kept him inside as Percy, O'Hare and I got the crib and placed it in the manger. I ran back for the 'baby Jesus', ensuring the swaddling was secure.
"Okay, give me the changeling," Percy said to me.
"Changeling?" I said and started laughing, it was sort of funny.
Carefully, he put the changeling in the crib, and the three of us stood back and looked from afar. Nothing looked amiss except for the amount of swaddling, but it covered the doll well. It was about then that Kringle came down with the good Father to have a look, but Kringle knew to get the hell out of dodge so he just kept on going until he was in his car and away. The four of us stood a moment, then Percy said he had to shove off, and I said we did, too. Only Father Nolan asked me to go up and get his camera, being I was young and spry, and he was not. I had little choice, so leaving O'Hare at the crime scene, I ran up to the porch to fetch the camera.
Out of my range of hearing, O'Hare later told me that Father was scratching his head and muttering, "There is too much swaddling on that baby Jesus." And he started to go fix the swaddling. As he reached for the 'changeling,' it decided to talk and said, "Hi, my name is Cathy!" According to O'Hare, Father jumped back, and that's when he ran past me inside the rectory.
"What happened?" I asked O'Hare.
"He went ta fix da mummy wrappin'."
"Oh no," I said knowing full well what he saw.
"But Da, he musta not noticed cus he shouted, Jesus!"
Out of the mouth of babes. Um hum.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
