Where are all the rhinoceros ballerinas? Those ugly elves?”
“Gone! Poof!” She looked at me with the expression of an imp, which wasn’t easy for her to pull off, given her size.
“Pearl?”
Oh, she was a she-devil when she wanted to be! I knew Camille would come undone to see her tree destroyed. We would have trouble all over again!
“Gotcha! Didn’t I? Well, I was gonna send them tothe big furnace in the sky, but I put it in the family room instead! All that crazy stuff is back there!”
Not wasting a moment, she snapped her fingers, and the fireplace cleaned itself in an updraft. A new pile of logs lit themselves. In an instant, the drafty old room crackled with warmth. The mantel over the fireplace was laden with old-fashioned garlands. Wreathes decorated every window. Each had a red satin bow. Everything was reminiscent of my youth.
“Ms. Theodora? That’s the same ribbon. Recycle! Let’s show them how to do this ’eah thing right!”
“I’m with you, baby! What’s next?” I felt like I was thirty-five!
Pearl stared intensely at all the wrapped packages under the tree. New ones appeared and they began to shift shapes and relabel themselves. That was quite a sight to behold!
All the wrapping paper became an opalescent ivory color and the boxes were now tied with red satin ribbon. I began to see a theme emerging. This was Pearl’s Christmas.
As I followed her through the hall to the dining room, she pointed a finger at the stair rail and at the large hall mirror. They were immediately swagged in greens and ribboned in red satin. She paused for a moment to look in the hall mirror while she adjusted the greens.
“I’ll be done ’eah soon enough! I gots to get dinner on the table, iffin that’s all right with you? Hmmph!”
“Who are you talking to?” I said.
“The meter maid, that’s who. Time’s running out! Now let’s get going. They gwine be home in less than an hour!”
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing! You know you don’t have to do a thing—no, wait! Where’s your grandmama’s Bible?”
“Heavens! I think it’s in the bottom drawer of the sideboard! Why?”
“What kind of a question is that? What in the world is it doing in there?”
“What do you think? Because my heathen family can’t deal with looking at it! Probably makes them feel guilty, bless their hearts.”
“That’s your job, then. Fix it like your mama used to do. I’ll go make the Reconciliation Eggnog.”
“The what kind of eggnog?”
“Reconciliation! I gots to be sure when they make up that it sticks , don’t I? Hurry now!”
Before she left me she eyeballed the hall table. Our family’s crèche set materialized from nowhere. It was surrounded by greens and votive candles.
“Hmmph!” I said.
“Hmmph, yourself!” she said, laughing.
When Pearl disappeared behind the kitchen door,I got down on my knees to dig around in the bottom buffet drawers. I finally found the Bible in the heaviest drawer, the most difficult to open. There were piles of wrinkled place mats, stubs of old candles saved in case a hurricane blew out our electricity, paper cocktail napkins and napkin rings that we never used. When at last I found it and lifted it out from all the rubble, I figured as long as I was already on my knees I might as well offer a little prayer, so I did. Silently I said, Lord? If You see my Fred, can You please tell him I said Merry Christmas, that I love him? If it’s not too much trouble, can You ask him to make himself useful today, You know, to do what he can to help us? That goes for all my other dead friends and relatives, too. Thank You, Lord, Amen.
My knees gave me a fit as I struggled to get up from the floor. Happily, I made a fortuitous rise without mishap.
I ran my hand across the red leather cover of the Bible. A flood of memories came back to me—looking at the pictures with Gordie long before we learned to read, how our grandmother read passages to us, how the story
“Gone! Poof!” She looked at me with the expression of an imp, which wasn’t easy for her to pull off, given her size.
“Pearl?”
Oh, she was a she-devil when she wanted to be! I knew Camille would come undone to see her tree destroyed. We would have trouble all over again!
“Gotcha! Didn’t I? Well, I was gonna send them tothe big furnace in the sky, but I put it in the family room instead! All that crazy stuff is back there!”
Not wasting a moment, she snapped her fingers, and the fireplace cleaned itself in an updraft. A new pile of logs lit themselves. In an instant, the drafty old room crackled with warmth. The mantel over the fireplace was laden with old-fashioned garlands. Wreathes decorated every window. Each had a red satin bow. Everything was reminiscent of my youth.
“Ms. Theodora? That’s the same ribbon. Recycle! Let’s show them how to do this ’eah thing right!”
“I’m with you, baby! What’s next?” I felt like I was thirty-five!
Pearl stared intensely at all the wrapped packages under the tree. New ones appeared and they began to shift shapes and relabel themselves. That was quite a sight to behold!
All the wrapping paper became an opalescent ivory color and the boxes were now tied with red satin ribbon. I began to see a theme emerging. This was Pearl’s Christmas.
As I followed her through the hall to the dining room, she pointed a finger at the stair rail and at the large hall mirror. They were immediately swagged in greens and ribboned in red satin. She paused for a moment to look in the hall mirror while she adjusted the greens.
“I’ll be done ’eah soon enough! I gots to get dinner on the table, iffin that’s all right with you? Hmmph!”
“Who are you talking to?” I said.
“The meter maid, that’s who. Time’s running out! Now let’s get going. They gwine be home in less than an hour!”
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing! You know you don’t have to do a thing—no, wait! Where’s your grandmama’s Bible?”
“Heavens! I think it’s in the bottom drawer of the sideboard! Why?”
“What kind of a question is that? What in the world is it doing in there?”
“What do you think? Because my heathen family can’t deal with looking at it! Probably makes them feel guilty, bless their hearts.”
“That’s your job, then. Fix it like your mama used to do. I’ll go make the Reconciliation Eggnog.”
“The what kind of eggnog?”
“Reconciliation! I gots to be sure when they make up that it sticks , don’t I? Hurry now!”
Before she left me she eyeballed the hall table. Our family’s crèche set materialized from nowhere. It was surrounded by greens and votive candles.
“Hmmph!” I said.
“Hmmph, yourself!” she said, laughing.
When Pearl disappeared behind the kitchen door,I got down on my knees to dig around in the bottom buffet drawers. I finally found the Bible in the heaviest drawer, the most difficult to open. There were piles of wrinkled place mats, stubs of old candles saved in case a hurricane blew out our electricity, paper cocktail napkins and napkin rings that we never used. When at last I found it and lifted it out from all the rubble, I figured as long as I was already on my knees I might as well offer a little prayer, so I did. Silently I said, Lord? If You see my Fred, can You please tell him I said Merry Christmas, that I love him? If it’s not too much trouble, can You ask him to make himself useful today, You know, to do what he can to help us? That goes for all my other dead friends and relatives, too. Thank You, Lord, Amen.
My knees gave me a fit as I struggled to get up from the floor. Happily, I made a fortuitous rise without mishap.
I ran my hand across the red leather cover of the Bible. A flood of memories came back to me—looking at the pictures with Gordie long before we learned to read, how our grandmother read passages to us, how the story
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