Short Stories
The Preacher’s Kid Gives A Gift
(A Christmas Story)
by
Ted Wallace
No one knows what caused my lame leg. It wasn’t polio the doctor said but he wouldn’t rule out a birth defect or a fall when I was four years old. It didn’t bother me much and when I got in trouble at school, I always got the ruler on my hand while my buddies got their paddling on the rear. They envied me. But I had something to prove I felt because I was also a preacher’s son. It was like a double whammy.
It wasn’t that I intended to be a bad kid but it angered me when old ladies patted my head and wondered if I would be a preacher too. My father agreed it wasn’t fair but he was worried about my “inconsistent behavior” as he called it. Yes, I believed the Jesus being the Son of God and I loved all those Bible stories Miss Dolan, my seventh grade teacher, read to us each morning, but I wanted to piece it all together myself without adult interference.
I guess it was this “inconsistent behavior” that almost got me in more trouble the night before the day before Christmas Eve. We were on Christmas vacation and it was after supper that Reggie Ellis dropped by to see if I wanted to go down to Howard’s Drugs for one of those sparkling, frosty glasses of root beer. I said I did and Dad said to be back within an hour.
]We’d had a storm two days before but the streets were still not completely cleared. The black night hid a cloudy sky. Occasionally, a feathery snowflake drifted and twinkled in the streetlights. Another, bigger storm was predicted the next morning.
After our root beers, Reggie and I tossed snowballs at trees. Reggie was a baseball player. He was good at putting out streetlights but that night his aim was off so we threw at passing cars. A man got out of his car, yelling at us and we moved into the darker part of the street.
On the way home we went by Harvey Peabody’s house. Reggie didn’t like Mr. Peabody. He reminded me why once again. “The old guy owes me a baseball. It was brand new, a birthday present. Me and Bobby Perkins were playing pass and Bobby chucked it on his porch and he wouldn’t give it back.” Reggie bent over to make a snowball.
I tried to peak in the living room but the blue star hanging in the window caught a light from somewhere and seemed to magnify itself, blocking my view. “They’re probably listening to the radio,” I said.
Reggie’s lip curled in defiance. He went to the porch, slowly, carefully stuffing snow in the mailbox. The black mailbox looked like it was bubbling some kind of froth from its top like some crazy science experiment. Reggie came back to the edge of the street and tossed a snowball at the porch light. I threw one too. On the third try, Reggie almost got the light. We heard a stir in the house, the door swung open and Mr. Peabody come rushing out to his driveway. His arms flailing, he swore at us, threatening to call the police but then he lost his balance and went tumbling on the icy pavement.
“Happy landings,” Reggie called as we went down the street.
“Do you think he saw me…I mean limping,” I said.
“Naw, we were in the dark but I guess you’re heading for the straight and narrow. You can’t be a good crook, not with that leg.”
It made me laugh but Reggie could make anyone laugh. I was still laughing when he said, “Hush up!” and held up a gloved hand for me to be quiet.
From the next street we heard tires spinning and an engine roar. “Someone’s stuck, I said. “Let’s go help.”
It was snowing a bit more now, the wind blew, and we heard the train blowing its
Lonesome whistle. When we came upon the Ford sedan. We knew who it was. “Hello, Miss Dolan,” Reggie said.
Our favorite teacher was struggling with a chain, laying it under a back tire for traction. “It doesn’t look too awful bad. I’m in a hurry to get to the train station to pick up a Christmas present. I got over too far on the shoulder and got stuck.”
“We’ll give her a push and you step on the gas…real easy.” Reggie said.
With some slipping and sliding along with many pushes, the car found a solid surface. “You boys hop in and I’ll give you a ride home right after I pick up my present but you better get in back.” She laughed. “It’s a pretty big present.”
On the way to the train station, Reggie and I tried to guess what the big present might be. Reggie thought it might be a piece of furniture and we could help her lug it into her house. “Maybe, a radio, I said. “It could be a floor model.”
“I’ll leave the heater on and I’ll be right back,” Miss Dolan went running toward the station house.
The acrid smell of coal smoke came seeping into the car. The train belched and fumed, like it knew it was behind schedule. The snow was coming down heavier now, trying to cover up the grime of the station platform, I thought.
Reggie sat up in the seat and pointed out the window at the two figures coming toward the car. One was Miss Dolan; the other was a man walking with a cane. He wore an army hat. He leaned on Miss Dolan and they laughed together like they were in some kind of movie. Opening the car door, Miss Dolan said, “Boys, I’d like you to meet my fiancé Captain Matt Williams. He’s a pilot.”
Both Reggie and I shook his big-gloved hand. We both noticed the wings on his uniform.” You get shot down?” Reggie said. Then he leaned forward, “Can you tell us about it or is it a military secret?”
The man laughed. “No, my little bomber made a bad landing and I got hurt a bit, not too serious. I’ll be up there again in a few months. I’m on leave and spending Christmas with my gal here and her family.”
Reggie shot me a startled look. It was a shock to here Miss Dolan referred to as “my gal.”
Miss Dolan’s laugh seemed a bit nervous when the captain put his arm around the back of the seat. ”I’ll have you boys home in a jiffy,” she said.
On the way home, we went by Harvey Peabody’s house. Through the steamy car glass, I saw the blue star in their window. There were lots of blue stars like that in our town, showing the world someone was loved and would missing Christmas dinner this year. Mr. and Mrs. Tall had a gold star in their window. Their son would never be home for Christmas. I knew there were zillions of stars above the white snow and the black sky above. They were bright and they twinkled as Christmas came closer. It was a time for stars. Without telling Reggie, I made a decision about tomorrow. I would take my shovel over to Harvey Peabody’s house and offer to help shovel out his driveway. I snickered. That was the kind of thing a preacher’s kid should do on the day before Christmas.
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