Holidays
We love...
because
He first
loved
us.
[1 John 4:19]
*******************
Time: July, 1964.
Place: Hot, crowded Boardwalk:
mid-afternoon. The air smells
of coconut-scented-sunburn-oil,
cigarettes, burnt hotdogs,
syrupy-sweet water ice,
and the briny, salty, seaweed-covered
waves of the cold Atlantic Ocean.
'Volare`!'* is playing on somebody's
new transistor radio, somewhere.
It's Altantic City,
New Jersey.
___________________________________
(Little girl's voice:
whiny, and impatient.)
"MOMMY? CAN I GET
SOME....SALTWATER ......TAFFY?"
"NO!
It makes your TEETH
a MESS!"
(Woeful mumble.)
(Whine.)
(More mumbling.)
"JOACH'KA'LAH!
I said NO!"
(Scuff little, red
sneakers against
the splintery, uneven
wooden Boardwalk. Even,
the wood smells hot.)
(Mumble.)
"My FRIENDS always get
some, when THEY'RE here....!"
(Motherly sigh.)
(Patient voice.)
"Look at the BIRDS....
Joach'ka'lah! Look at the
BIRDS! Aren't they CUTE?"
(Pout.)
(Frown.)
(Mumble.)
(Squeak sneaker sole against
the Boardwalk, noisily.)
(Whine.)
"I WANTED to get some
saltwater.....TAFFY!"
"JULBIE!
If you say that ONE MORE
TIME.....we're goin' back
to the CAR!"
(Whine.)
"But.......I just wanted a
LITTLE PIECE! ONE PIECE!
THAT'S......ALL!"
"I said NO!
You get CAVITIES......
FASTER THAN ANYBODY ELSE,
I KNOW!"
(Mournful wail.)
"But.....THIS time...
is SPECIAL! And.....I
ONLY WANT ONE PIECE!"
(Exasperated sigh.)
"These stores along here,
are just too EXPENSIVE!
It's too MUCH!
And.....it's BAD FOR
YOUR TEETH!
NO!"
(Whiny cry.)
(Mumble.)
(Mournful wail.)
(Bossy, older-sister voice.)
"JULIE! SHUT UP!
I HATE SALTWATER TAFFY!"
(Mumbly, older-brother voice.)
"Yeah, JULIE!
That stuff STINKS!"
(Lower, yet louder wail.)
(Sniff.)
"I just WANTED......one
little.....PIECE!"
(Sniff.)
(Silence.)
(Mournful cry.)
(Sniff.)
"LOOK!"
(Sniff.)
"We're gonna be PAST
IT.....SOON!"
(Pause.)
(Deep sigh.)
(Fatherly voice.)
"You kids go on ahead;
I'll take JULIE.. inside......."
(Loud, motherly voice.)
"MIKE!
SHE DOESN'T NEED IT!"
(Patient sigh.)
"Come on, JULIE.
Here: take my HAND....
it's too CROWDED,
out here."
(Spotty-toothy smile.)
(Clumsily, rub big
tear away from
plump cheek.)
(Sniff.)
"Okay.....DADDY....!"
(Big-brotherly,
and big-sisterly,
really loud,
dramatic sighs.)
"What a LITTLE BRAT!"
"You kids go on,
with MAMMA!"
(Taking out well-worn
wallet.)
"JULIE and I will be
right in HERE....
OKAY!"
(Big-brother, and big-sister
voices.)
"Yeah, DADDY!"
(Sticking well-worn
wallet back into mended pocket,
of well-worn summer slacks.)
"Stay with MAMMA!
OKAY?"
(Big-brother and big-sister
chorus.)
"YEAH, DADDY!"
(Big glass door opens,
to the saltwater taffy
place. The airconditioned
air is cold, and smells
strongly of overly-sweet,
saltwater taffy-candy.)
"OKAY.....JULIE.
Come ON."
(Taking a small hand,
once more.)
(Fiddling with wallet
in pocket of ten-year-
old-ill-fitting-slacks, again.)
(Tearful, gulping sound.)
"Thanks....DADDY."
(Sniff.)
(Smile!)
(Sudden, excited voice.)
"Aw! D...A...D...D...Y!
I SEE.....WHAT....
I WANT!"
I SEE WHAT I WANT!"
(Loving chuckle.)
**********************
That I may
proclaim
with
the voice
of thanksgiving,
And
tell of all
Your
wondrous
works.
[Psalms 26:7]
_______________
*1964;
Sung by
Dean Martin.
In Memory:
Julian Michaelson.
I love you,
Dad.
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