Christmas After All Page 6

  Ten minutes later

  I can’t believe it. She’s staying home! Well, as Mama says, “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.”

  December 11, 1932

  Oh, dear! When we came home from the movies last night, Mama was here. We couldn’t believe it. She was supposed to be going to the Dramatic Club party. When we left she had been getting dressed. Lady had restyled her old chocolate-brown velvet tea gown and made it into a real dancing dress. It was just gorgeous with these huge puffy shirred sleeves. But Mama and Papa never went to the dance. It was so sad. When we came in Mama was sitting out in the sunroom — always a bad sign — still wearing her gown and her fur scarf. We were all shocked. Willie Faye was really shocked when she came down from Ozzie’s lab — not because Mama was still here but because she had never seen a fur scarf before. Fur scarves are kind of a shock if you’ve never seen one. They are made up from the skins of little foxes with the heads, tails, and paws still attached. Or I guess it can be minks or whatever you want. They even put little glass beads that look just like eyes in the foxes’ heads. It’s all just for decoration, not real warmth, but I guess if you’ve never seen one before it’s a pretty weird decoration.

  Anyhow, Mama said that Papa just didn’t have the heart to go to the Dramatic Club party and then she sighed and said all he does is sit up in that little room tapping that adding machine. “It’s like he thinks there’s magic in that machine and somehow money will fly out of it.” So I guess I’m not the only one who’s thinking that we need magic this Christmas. I didn’t say anything, but I think it’s the k-chirp of the typewriter I hear more than the k-chung of the adding machine. My ears are better than Mama’s.

  This is the dreariest day. I can’t believe that Christmas is two weeks away. The weather has turned warm and drizzly and all the snow has gone. There’s just slushy stuff left. Mud honey, Mama calls it.

  The O’s come over and we decide to bake Christmas cookies. Clem and the O’s say we should take them to that shantytown over by the White River, Curtisville Bottom.

  Later

  The house smells so good. So good that even Papa came down from his k-chirping or k-chunging to have a cookie. Mama looked so happy when she saw him. She went right over to him and gave him a hug. Usually I just hate it when they hug or kiss each other in front of us kids — they don’t very often — but I was happy. It’s gotten a lot colder outside. So even though there is no snow I’m getting more into the Christmas spirit. While Clem and the O’s watched over the cookies, Willie Faye and I went up to discuss our chicken feather fashions with Lady. She thinks it’s possible. She has a lot of felt that will be perfect for hats. Willie Faye was up early this morning and already has a bunch of feathers from the Rhode Island Red and the guinea hen. Guinea hens are REALLY stupid! Holy smokes, are they dumb. Willie Faye says that’s good because they have the prettiest feathers.

  Mama fixed a good dinner tonight. She opened a jar of green tomatoes that she had canned over the summer, and we had those fried up in batter and butter noodles and Welsh rarebit. I love Welsh rarebit. I love the way the cheese is melted over the bread. Ozzie and I drag our forks over the melting cheese and make designs — that is, until Mama catches us. Lady asked Mama when we might have meat again. I knew what she meant — real meat, like a roast, not rumor of pork. Mama just sighed. I saw a shadow pass over Papa’s brow and I got all worried.

  But then Willie Faye started telling this incredibly exciting story. I think it must have been the meat talk that reminded her. Willie Faye said that one night in Heart’s Bend cattle rustlers came and slaughtered their only beef cow and butchered it right there in the field and hauled off all the meat. The only thing left from the animal was the head and the hooves. Then her father and the sheriff took off to chase them down. They got other people to help — a posse. That’s what they call it when a sheriff leads a bunch of men to track down criminals out there. And they found a trail of blood — blood dripping from the butchered cattle, or so they thought. But it wasn’t cattle. They found an actual dead person! A fellow named Sam Blount, and the rustlers had murdered him. He must have caught them trying to steal his cattle because his body was right beside the head of a butchered cow! Normally Mama wouldn’t have let such talk take place at the table, but this was almost as good as a radio show — at least the way Willie Faye told the story. Mama did fan herself with her napkin even though it was cold inside and she said “Yee gads” about four times.

  Still later

  You’ll never guess what just happened. Clem was serenaded. I am NOT making this up! Clem has a beau! She met him when she went out with Lady and the O’s Friday night and now here he is on Sunday, singing outside the window. Singing “My Darling Clementine”! This is the most exciting thing that ever happened to our family. I mean, of course it’s not as exciting as what happened to Willie Faye’s family’s cow and the posse and all that. Ozzie says you can’t beat a dead body lying next to the chopped-off head of a cow, but still this is pretty exciting. The beau’s name is Marlon and he’s from Minnesota and that is all Clem will tell us. She didn’t invite him in but Mama said she could go out for a walk with him. It has gotten really, really cold. I wonder if she’ll be warm enough. I wonder if she’ll let him cuddle her. I couldn’t see him that well but he kind of looked big and strong. I think as big as Clark Gable maybe.

  December 12, 1932

  Too much excitement! When Willie Faye and I came down for breakfast this morning and we were sitting there eating our eggs, I happened to look out the window. I noticed the guinea hen sitting on a trash can. I looked about five or ten minutes later and I noticed that it was still there and hadn’t moved a jot. So I got up and I said, “What’s wrong with that hen?”

  Then Jackie, who was just sliding some more eggs onto a plate for Papa, looked out and shrieked, “Lordy! Lordy! That darn stupid hen done gone and froze itself to the trash can.”

  Well, we all began screeching and yelling and throw­ing on our coats to rescue the guinea hen. We got outside and sure enough, it’s frozen there. One of its feet was stuck solid. Mama sent me in for hot water. Then she yelled, “No, just bring my coffee cup. The kettle water will be too hot.” So Jackie held the hen and Mama poured coffee on the hen’s foot and pulled on it a little bit. We got the poor thing loose, but it seemed to be kind of in a state of shock. It collapsed in Jackie’s arms with its beak hanging open, just as if it were swooning, like when Jean Harlow swooned in Red Dust except this was a chicken and Jackie is not Clark Gable.

  So we got the creature inside and everyone fussed over it, and pretty soon Mama said, “Sam, go to the basement and get the you-know-what.” Well, I didn’t know what, but Papa seemed to know what. He came back a few minutes later with a bottle of clear fluid.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “You hush up,” Jackie said. Everyone seemed to know except for me and Willie Faye. Finally Lady dragged me off and told me it was gin! I couldn’t believe it. This is Prohibition. It’s against the law to sell or buy whiskey. I can’t believe Mama and Papa have a bottle of gin. But Lady said every family has a bottle of something in their basement. So I asked why, because I never see Mama or Papa drinking. Lady said they had it just “for times like these.” That I didn’t understand at all. Who can expect times like these? Who expects a stupid guinea hen to freeze to their garbage can? All this before eight o’clock in the morning! Must rush to school. We’re going to be late.

  After school

  The hen is still in the kitchen. Jackie fixed up a basket for it. She put the basket in an old birdcage we had because we were scared that Tumbleweed might decide to eat the hen. She seems comfortable. Mama says that we can go with Clem and the O’s to the shantytown and deliver cookies because Delbert Frink has offered to take Gwen there. As long as there is a young man she feels that we’ll be safe. Delbert Frink couldn’t protect us from an attacking guinea hen, to tell you the truth, but as long as we get to go, it’
s all right with me.

  Oh, I nearly forgot to say that Jackie said she felt something was after that poor dumb guinea hen because its hind end was almost bald. Willie Faye and I looked at each other. The hat project is going nicely. We have all the felt cut out. We could use a few more feathers, however. Better switch to another chicken. That reminds me. The O’s gave me an idea for other Christmas gifts: keepsake boxes made by lacquering pretty cutout pictures to wooden or cardboard boxes. I think I might make one for Willie Faye for Christmas. The only problem is that Willie Faye hardly has any keepsakes. I mean, the only things she brought with her were Tumbleweed and a few clothes, the pumpkin seeds, and that picture.

  At school today they posted on the big bulletin board a picture that Willie Faye had drawn. The as­sign­ment was to draw something in the classroom, anything. But Willie Faye was very imaginative. She drew the window, which looks out on the playground. She drew the window so exact — ­every little paint chip — and then through the window she showed a kind of blurry image of children playing. Miss Morse, the art teacher, said it was “very advanced.” So even if you don’t know about toilets, porcelain bathtubs, adjectives, Booth Tarkington, and Charlie Chan there is still stuff you can be advanced in.

  December 13, 1932

  We went to the shantytown last night to deliver cookies. Delbert came, but guess who else came, too? Marlon! Marlon is so handsome and so nice and we could have all just killed Delbert. Delbert was so high and mighty and snooty to Marlon. Marlon is different. He comes from Minnesota and he’s not a college graduate like Delbert but he’s every bit as smart. You can just tell. He works as a lifeguard at the Antlers Hotel’s indoor swimming pool and then he does half a dozen other things as well. He drives a truck and works in the shipping department at L. S. Ayres and Company, and he works part time at the jazz club where he and Clem met. But he has “lovely manners.” Mama said that when he came by the house before we left for the shantytown with the cookies.

  We all walked over to the shantytown. This is the one they call Curtisville. It is the biggest Hooverville in the state of Indiana even if they do call it after the vice president. It was a long, cold walk but I forgot the cold and my freezing feet when we got there. Honest to gosh, I saw people living in contraptions that you couldn’t believe. I saw one family living in a pile of old tires covered with a tarp! Marlon said it was very dangerous. If all those tires collapsed they’d be squashed to death and there was a little baby, just a toddler. Then we saw ramshackle shacks with tin roofs made from flattened garbage cans. Garbage cans and oil drums were the most important part of Curtisville. People lit fires in them, cooked on them, flattened them into sheets for roofs or walls, and some people who were too tired to build anything just crawled into them and slept. I think they liked our cookies, but to tell you the truth, I felt a little stupid standing there with our cardboard boxes filled with cream cheese dainties, sugar cookies decorated like Santa Claus, and molasses crinkles. The children loved them, that’s for sure. There was one little boy with the dirtiest face and I let him have a Santa Claus cookie, and he just stared and stared at it and then he turned his face up and he said, “Ma’am, if I don’t eat this cookie, do you think it might through Christmas magic turn into a real Santa Claus?”

  Well, I just didn’t know what to say. But that Marlon was so nice. He just crouched down and said to the little boy, “I’m not sure, but would your mama and daddy like me to help them make your house safer?” Because it turned out that this indeed was the family that was living in the dangerous tire shack. Well, we had to go home but Marlon stayed there all night, I guess. He met Clem today after school and told her that he managed to get some wood and some metal cutters and had fixed them up something much safer. I don’t know whether I’ll ever get that little boy’s face out of my mind. I don’t think Mr. Roosevelt can become president quick enough. But we still have to wait until March. That’s when his inauguration is. Who knows what could happen to that little boy by then? Who knows what could happen to us by then? But I know that we are better off than any of those people in Curtisville Bottom right now.

  P.S. Papa never went to work today. But no one said anything. We just pretended that we didn’t notice. I am not sure if that was the right thing to do or not.

  December 14, 1932

  I don’t know what I would do without the O’s. They have been wonderful in helping me with the decoupage boxes. I am making one for Willie Faye and one for Ozzie. Ozzie’s is going to be covered with comic strips and I am putting in it a spool of wire, six little capacitors, and some electrical tape. I’ll go to Vonnegut’s hardware store. I have two dollars saved up and I should be able to get all this stuff for Ozzie for less than a dollar.

  Hardly any homework this week so plenty of time to work on Christmas presents. Willie Faye is really good at drawing dresses and fashions. She and Lady were talking about some skirt that Lady saw, and Willie Faye just picked up a pencil and sketched it out. So now Lady’s got her sketching out all these fashion notions she has. Willie Faye seems to like doing it. She likes messing around in Ozzie’s lab the most of all, though. She’s helping him with his homemade telephone.

  Later

  Marlon came over to visit Clem tonight. He listened to The Shadow with us and unlike Delbert did not try to explain all the sound effects and spoil the show for us. Then Delbert came. He asked Marlon in this really snooty way if he planned “ever to attend college and obtain a degree.” Isn’t that just the limit? I was practically dying when he said this. But it didn’t faze Marlon at all. Marlon just said that if he ever had enough money, and the leisure time, he would like nothing better than to attend school — business school. “But in the meantime I try to learn from reading,” he said.

  “And what do you read, may I ask?” Delbert asked, so-o-o snottily.

  “The Wall Street Journal and when I can get a hold of it, the London Financial Times. I even read the quarterly reports of L. S. Ayres — you can learn a lot from those.”

  Delbert was dumbfounded. “You what?” he sputtered. “I thought you worked in shipping at Ayres.”

  “I do, and in trash removal. I found old copies of their quarterly reports from a year ago in a trash barrel. They were very instructive.”

  “And what did you learn?”

  “I learned that the highest profit margin came from the nonessential but amusing items. In desperate times people want amusing things. That’s why they go to the movies and listen to The Shadow. It doesn’t have to be real but it does have to be amusing. They want a little magic.”

  Christmas magic! I thought. That’s what we all want, and I remembered the little boy with the dirty face and his Santa Claus cookie. I wonder if he’s eaten it yet.

  December 15, 1932

  Bad news all the way around.

  1) The Indianapolis Star reported that the Christmas angel from the big clock at Ayres was stolen! What horrible Scrooge would do that? Imagine stealing an angel. I hope it turns into a devil and punches the person in the nose. Ozzie thinks we should get a posse up and hunt it down. I told him they have posses only in the Wild West, not the Midwest.

  2) The newspaper also reported that 19,437 people are officially out of work in Indianapolis. That is 9.5 percent of our workforce! And our Papa is one of them. Greenhandle’s officially closed two days ago. Papa told us only this morning.

  3) The guinea hen’s frozen leg turned black and dropped off during the night. (This was not reported in the Indianapolis Star.)

  So to sum up: Papa’s out of work, we have a one-legged hen, and Indianapolis’s official angel has been kidnapped. Merry Christmas!

  Good news: We have only one more day of school. Of course we have to come back for the Christmas pageant performance on Sunday night, but that doesn’t count. And tonight is Charlie Chan.

  10 P.M. — After Charlie Chan

  More good news: Gwen and Delbert Frink broke up! We are trying not to sound too happy but we are. I know it’s becaus
e of the snooty way he treated Marlon. Gwen has a real sense of fair play and she would never hold it against anybody because they were not, as Lady says, “to the manor born.” I think it means something to do with growing up with nice things and lots of money. But the truth is that Marlon has much better manners than Delbert, who was born with all that and went to Harvard to boot. I think Charlie Chan might have a proverb here. Actually what he said tonight would fit Delbert perfectly: “Slippery man sometimes slips in own oil.”

  December 16, 1932

  Last day of school!! No spelling test today, either. Just our class party. Willie Faye and I both made stained-glass-window cookies to bring for each of our class parties. You make gingerbread cookies and then cut out “windowpanes” inside the cookie. Then you poke holes in the top for ribbons to go through. Next you put crushed-up hard candies in different colors into the windowpanes and bake them on waxed paper. The hard candy bits melt and make pretty patches just like the stained glass windows in churches. They make the best ornaments to hang on Christmas trees. We are getting our Christmas tree today after school. We are going out to a place north of the city, a woods where you can saw down your own tree. Then we are coming back and going to have a tree-decorating party.