The following short story was one that I wrote two years ago. It is a story born of my own misery. The misery of recalling past holidays in institutions as well as the sadness that comes from living in a very small family that doesn't much care about traditional celebrations. I'm sorry that I'm a bit late in posting it.
Thanksgiving by Norman Rockwell |
A New Day
Voices filled the entranceway. The bustle of coats and gloves being stuffed into
the hall closet. Offerings of pies,
wine, exchanged hands and seats plopped into with red-cheeked abandon. Discussions of the frosty cold the nipped
noses and fingers competed with questions about the score of the football game
muttering from the momentarily neglected TV in the corner. Men seated in
long legged sprawls, accepting cups of eggnog from hostess hands.
"Gosh it's great to see you!" Mother and father 's eyes hungrily drank the
image of the married-and-gone daughter...The husband who stole her away had his
shoulder clapped by paternal hands and cheek kissed from shy mother lips.
"How were the roads?"
News of new snowfall breaking on the holiday scene made her
glad to be in a warm house smelling invitingly of turkey and gravy. She watched the scene participated when expected to, assisted
in hanging coats and handing out drinks. The lull of conversation gave rise to thankful
prayers. She was home.
Former Thanksgivings illicited thoughts of industrialized
turkey and congealed gravy oozing over the scoop of instant mashed
potatoes...served on cardboard trays, of lonely eating...watching visitors
arrive for the other inmates, eyes hungrily searching arriving faces....but
finding none familiar, no one to visit her.
She pushed aside the cold tray of food that tried but miserably failed
to convey holiday cheer....and stocking
feet padded her way back to her room.
She laid down in the bed and stared at the ceiling and prayed for the
day to be over.
A far cry from this year.
This year of family noises and shotgun bursts of laughter. Where were they all in those former
years? The years when she was
alone. Better not to go there. Better just to be here...sucking in the holiday
happiness of family and food.
As she re-entered the
crowded room someone spoke in her
direction. There was a pause...a question mark hung in the ceiling and all eyes
were fixed on her. She hurriedly replayed in her mind the question so she might
answer it. "How is work?" "Any prospects of dating?"
She sighed a "fine" and then glared the second question away. Her sister laughed at her discomfiture and ruffled her red hair. Annoyed, she attempted to fix her hair, oblivious of the Buckwheat cowlick that stood up in the back. Attempting to change the subject she nodded toward her sister's expansive middle and asked, "Are you ready? Are you excited?"prompting the production and display of the latest sonogram picture. Talk shifted safely to nursery colors and baby names.
She sighed a "fine" and then glared the second question away. Her sister laughed at her discomfiture and ruffled her red hair. Annoyed, she attempted to fix her hair, oblivious of the Buckwheat cowlick that stood up in the back. Attempting to change the subject she nodded toward her sister's expansive middle and asked, "Are you ready? Are you excited?"prompting the production and display of the latest sonogram picture. Talk shifted safely to nursery colors and baby names.
Sighing she stood and made her way to the kitchen where mom,
wiping her perspiring face, stood after closing the oven door where she'd been
basting the turkey.
"Hi honey...is everyone happy? Anyone need a fresh drink?"
"Hi honey...is everyone happy? Anyone need a fresh drink?"
She answered in the negative and said, trying and failing to
keep the jealousy from her voice. "No, they are all choosing Jess's baby's
name."
Her mom patted her shoulder.
"Green eyes don't become you.
Don't worry honey. Your time is coming.
Enjoy your freedom while you have it."
"Well, it will be hard getting pregnant if I can' t get
a man to look at me."
"Men do look
at you, but they just can't work their way around your growl."
"Oh mom."
"Well, why don' t you take this plate of hors d'oeuvres
out and pass them around. The men will
be getting hungry and coming in here to find something to eat at any
moment."
She took the tray and raised it over her head as she navigated the corner,
narrowly missing collision with her brother in law. "THAT's what I was looking for!"
said he as he snatched the tray from her hands and turned with it for the
living room, brushing a kiss on her nose as he said "Hi sis!"
She followed him and sat on an ottoman while she listened to
the conversation rise and swell around her.
It was like listening to the waves of the ocean, she thought. All she needed was sunscreen. A hastening in the broadcaster's voice
brought a tense silence the room; men's fists clenched. As the quarterback leapt over the goal line
the room erupted into an all male cheer, "YEAH!!!" Fortunately for family harmony; they all were
rooting for the same team and that team had just ascended into the lead. As the
men discussed the sheer elegance of the play, she leaned back against a wall,
her thoughts drifting to another room....a room where the TV was smaller and
was bracketed up into the corner near the ceiling. A room where two men cheered a touchdown and
where maybe twenty others sat silently staring into inner space; a few shuffled
around the room asking each person they met for a cigarette, and stopped to dig
through an ashtray for a butt that may yet have another drag left on it.
A jangle of keys so stunned her that for a second she believed
she'd traveled back to a moment when a staff member approached, their belted
keys clinking. But instead it was her
brother entering the room tossing his handful of keys onto the desk. All eyes turned to his form and welcomes were
called out. Her little sister rose
awkwardly and lurched her way over to Ned, to stand on her tippy toes and perch
a kiss on his nose. Ned hugged her and
patted her belly smiling. Then his eyes
lifted and searched coming to land on her face.
He grinned widely and walked, leg weaving and absconding with a cheese
topped cracker on his way over to her.
"Hey little sis.
It's good to see you here. Nice
to know where you are and that you're safe."
She flushed and then met his eyes with a tremulous
smile. "Good to be here" she
said.
Just then the long awaited call came from the kitchen,
"Turkey's ready, are you???"
There was a moment of confusion as legs untangled and found
the floor and the mob made their way to the burdened table where enough food
awaited to feed twice as many people.
There were groans of appreciation and people claimed the seats pointed
out to them by mom, the conductor of the show.
She was pointed to a seat between Ned and her father. Her mom knew her so well. Even in the seating choice had protected her
from barbs and unwelcome questions that the other guests may have had in
store. Ned was as comfortable as bedroom
slippers. He squeezed her hand as they
joined hands to say Grace. As her father sonorously listed the things they had
to be grateful for, she whispered a soft prayer to God, thanking him for her
family. For a home. For a table with food. There were times in her life where those
things had been absent....and she would never again take them for granted.
Thoughts came to her of a bridge. A bridge under which she would huddle for
shelter from the wind and rain. A bridge
where once she had climbed to the pinnacle, considered the tatters of her life
and leapt. Plunging into the depths
below, she was knocked unconscious by the impact. She'd opened her eyes and found herself being
strapped onto an ambulance gurney...her destination being a one way ticket back
to the hospital from which she'd escaped months earlier.
Now, pulling her thoughts from that moment with difficulty
she realized that the "amen" had sounded long seconds ago and that
her sweaty palms were still clenching the hands of her father and Ned.
"Oooh. Sorry. I
got carried away." Someone said,
"To where?" but was shushed by her mom who proceeded to pass around the tureen of
mashed potatoes followed by the giblet gravy.
"Now " mom said "I don't want to hear another
sound aside from chewing and requests for more!"
They all laughed at the thought of a silent meal and the
happy banter began as the turkey disappeared one leg at a time.
Cynthia Lott Vogel
11/21/12
Word ct.: 1332