December 14, 2008
(This is the last in a series of posts about this trip. To read them all in order - just start a little lower. They all have the same title.)
At Convocation Friday night, Henry J. Eyring spoke. He said it amazed him how the Lord did things just for his good, such as causing a stock market crash to turn his life around. Of course he was being a little bit facetious.
Well, today, I had such an experience. I know the last three posts all said the weather was supposed to be real bad - and for the most part it wasn't. Well, every news service in the world was looking at this giant low pressure system that was going to pound southern Wyoming. Mat got stuck in it last night. Mar and I woke early, 5:15, and were on the road by 5:30 fully expecting 15 house of slow, scary driving to get home. In fact we were somewhat expecting Mat's experience - having the highway closed on us.
We started from Ogden just as it started to snow. Lightly as we pulled away, but steadily more until when we started up the canyon it was snowing in earnest and beginning to stick heavily on the cold roadbed. I was sick to death. It truly was going to be a long, long, long trip if this continued. I just silent prayed, "Heavenly Father, we can't drive all the way to Colorado in this. Please help us." Instantly in my mind I heard, "This is just lake-effect snow. Keep going." Fifteen minutes later, the snow stopped. We went up to the speed limit and took off. An hour and a half later, the sun came up. We were driving under blue skies. We had the blue skies all of the way. The roads were a little but snowy after Rawlins and then just ice packed at about 20 miles from Laramie - the scene of Mathew's overnight closure. There we had to slow down. But in the end, we made the trip in a little over eight hours.
Now, I am not saying that Heavenly Father moved a storm so I could get home safely. But - he told me when to leave so I could hit the break in that storm. We are so grateful for that blessing.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Grad Trip - Logan, Rexburg, Ogden
December 13, 2008
All of the predictions for cold, nasty, snowy weather came true during the night. Rexburg, Idaho lived up to its reputation. Only about three inches of snow, but so windy and cold.
We had stayed at a motel in Rexburg. We got up and went over and loaded our van to the brim with their stuff. Next week they are moving back to Colorado. It was amazing how much stuff we packed into that van. Mat also took Ben's bike on his bike rack. Mat and Andi were also taking home Andi's brother and sister.
As soon as we were loaded, we hugged and kissed goodby and started on the trip home. Oh how we were not looking forward to that trip in the snow. It was pretty bad from Rexburg to Idaho Falls. Thirty miles of partially snow packed highway. From Idaho Falls to Pocatello it was only bad - not pretty bad. From Pocatello to Downey, Idaho it was perfect. The roads were dry and clear. From Downey to Logan was pretty good, except for 10 miles where we drove through a blizzard. That blizzard caught up with us in Logan and just iced over the roads real bad. Then it moved on and the skies cleared. We dropped Mar's mother off, said goodby to all of the family there and then drove on south to Ogden, again braving bad roads that didn't turn out to be bad. We stayed the evening with my mother and my sister, Melanie.
(Mat drove on home. Southern Wyoming was not for the weak of heart. Roads were sometimes icy and slick, particularly as they got to Laramie where they closed the road. Mat and Andi got to have an unplanned vacation stay at the Laramie Ramada.)
All of the predictions for cold, nasty, snowy weather came true during the night. Rexburg, Idaho lived up to its reputation. Only about three inches of snow, but so windy and cold.
We had stayed at a motel in Rexburg. We got up and went over and loaded our van to the brim with their stuff. Next week they are moving back to Colorado. It was amazing how much stuff we packed into that van. Mat also took Ben's bike on his bike rack. Mat and Andi were also taking home Andi's brother and sister.
As soon as we were loaded, we hugged and kissed goodby and started on the trip home. Oh how we were not looking forward to that trip in the snow. It was pretty bad from Rexburg to Idaho Falls. Thirty miles of partially snow packed highway. From Idaho Falls to Pocatello it was only bad - not pretty bad. From Pocatello to Downey, Idaho it was perfect. The roads were dry and clear. From Downey to Logan was pretty good, except for 10 miles where we drove through a blizzard. That blizzard caught up with us in Logan and just iced over the roads real bad. Then it moved on and the skies cleared. We dropped Mar's mother off, said goodby to all of the family there and then drove on south to Ogden, again braving bad roads that didn't turn out to be bad. We stayed the evening with my mother and my sister, Melanie.
(Mat drove on home. Southern Wyoming was not for the weak of heart. Roads were sometimes icy and slick, particularly as they got to Laramie where they closed the road. Mat and Andi got to have an unplanned vacation stay at the Laramie Ramada.)
Grad Trip - Logan, Rxburg, Ogden
December 12, 2008
President Uchtdorf from the First Presidency of the Church was the principle speaker. It is quite refreshing to have a graduation that is based on religious principles and with a very uplifting theme - even the student talks at Convocation were polite and joyous.
Convocation, where they got their diplomas, followed. Brea and Ben both sang in a small graduate choir as part of the program. Brea and Ben were supposed to get their diplomas at different Convocations (Business for Ben and Biology and Health Sciences for Brea), but they arranged to have them presented together - in fact, they called their name as a couple.
We woke up at Mar's mother's house in Logan, Utah and then continued our trip up to Rexburg, Idaho. Again, it was supposed to snow and be nasty for the trip, but it wasn't. Mar's mother came with us. Mat and Andi also came, but they drove all of the way last night in their own car. Ben's parents, Ron and Nedra, and his sister, Rachel, were also there - they also drove up from Colorado.
We took the whole crowd to lunch/dinner and then we all went to Commencement and Convocation.
We took the whole crowd to lunch/dinner and then we all went to Commencement and Convocation.
Commencement was very well done. It was at The Hart, and it wasn't too long. There were 1163 graduates - 46% were married and 42 couples were graduating together - including our Brea and Ben.
President Uchtdorf from the First Presidency of the Church was the principle speaker. It is quite refreshing to have a graduation that is based on religious principles and with a very uplifting theme - even the student talks at Convocation were polite and joyous.
Convocation, where they got their diplomas, followed. Brea and Ben both sang in a small graduate choir as part of the program. Brea and Ben were supposed to get their diplomas at different Convocations (Business for Ben and Biology and Health Sciences for Brea), but they arranged to have them presented together - in fact, they called their name as a couple.
Yes, we are proud parents. It was worth the drive it was worth the worry. They are wonderful.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Grad Trip - Logan, Rexburg, Ogden
December 11, 2008
It is a proud time for parents. Our youngest daughter is graduating from college. Also, It is a time when we realize that it is our youngest daughter that is graduating. The years have slipped passed, or rushed pased and in some cases crawled passed. Still, she is graduating and we are proud.
Today we drove from home to Mar's mother's house in Logan, Cache, Utah. It was supposed to be a little bit stormy, but it was a beautiful drive. Tomorrow we will proceed on to Rexburg for the ceremonies.
Mat told us that as we drove down Logan Canyon, we should just enjoy how beautiful it was. You know, after all of the trips I have taken through that canyon, I knew it was beautiful, but this time I looked at it different - and saw things I have never seen before.
It is a proud time for parents. Our youngest daughter is graduating from college. Also, It is a time when we realize that it is our youngest daughter that is graduating. The years have slipped passed, or rushed pased and in some cases crawled passed. Still, she is graduating and we are proud.
Today we drove from home to Mar's mother's house in Logan, Cache, Utah. It was supposed to be a little bit stormy, but it was a beautiful drive. Tomorrow we will proceed on to Rexburg for the ceremonies.
Mat told us that as we drove down Logan Canyon, we should just enjoy how beautiful it was. You know, after all of the trips I have taken through that canyon, I knew it was beautiful, but this time I looked at it different - and saw things I have never seen before.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Keeping Fit
December 9, 2008
Mar went to the rec center to exercise in the water aerobics class today. We are proud of her for that. With that and Curves, she has been exerciseing 5 - 6 times a week for about 6 months - and she did Curves for 4 months before that.
I have decided that I will go with her when I can, once a week, and use the track at the rec center for training when it is too cold to work outside. Today I went:
6.2 miles - 10 K - 74 laps on their indoor track.
54 min. 37 sec. - 8.8 minutes per mile.
Age - 56 and 364 days.
Not bad for two old people.
Mar went to the rec center to exercise in the water aerobics class today. We are proud of her for that. With that and Curves, she has been exerciseing 5 - 6 times a week for about 6 months - and she did Curves for 4 months before that.
I have decided that I will go with her when I can, once a week, and use the track at the rec center for training when it is too cold to work outside. Today I went:
6.2 miles - 10 K - 74 laps on their indoor track.
54 min. 37 sec. - 8.8 minutes per mile.
Age - 56 and 364 days.
Not bad for two old people.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Beware the Grinch
December 8, 2008
I'm really beginning to worry.
Last week, I was driving and hit a pseudo-reindeer - an elk.
Last night, I was driving and almost hit a Christmas tree in the middle of the road.
Santa Clause had better stay out of the traffic patterns when I'm around.
I'm really beginning to worry.
Last week, I was driving and hit a pseudo-reindeer - an elk.
Last night, I was driving and almost hit a Christmas tree in the middle of the road.
Santa Clause had better stay out of the traffic patterns when I'm around.
Peace on Earth
2006
(For those interested - not required reading. A couple years ago, at Mat's urging, I wrote a short story. It is a Christmas story. It is longer. It is presented here in it's entirety. Read if you must - or want to.)
Peace On Earth
Michael the Arch Angel:
So here’s the story. Things have been going pretty badly in the world, with wars and rumors of wars and pestilences and plagues. Yes, that is supposed to happen, it says so in the Bible, but things have been going down hill faster than the master plan called for. The planning committee looked into it and found the culprit – fate. Or more precisely, the Fates. You remember those three old hags – blind – one eye. Well it seems they were having a little too much fun bending fate to their own evil designs. Face it, they liked the chaos of the world. It made the fate job easier. Well, the Fates were called to task in an executive meeting and told to cut it out. However, just cutting it out didn’t satisfy the big guy. He gave them one more thing they had to do to recompense for their sins. One mortal would be chosen at random, and then they had to grant that mortal his, or her, next wish. And then they had to have the results of that wish molded into fate itself. I can tell you that made the old girls mad, but that takes us up to the start of the real story, so I’ll leave it to you now to read the rest of the story.
Oh, just to prepare you about a couple of things that you should understand. I am in a real good mood today, so this introduction is a tad bit light-hearted. Don’t confuse this playfulness with the mood of the rest of the story. It is really dark in some places. Also, just to warn you about the Fates. They used to be just plain old witchy types, but they got grandiose when they were depicted in the old myths. Homer and all really went to their heads. Now they only talk in verse. Sheesh, you would think they were the creations of Shakespeare himself.
And Michael exits.
And the Fates enter.
Fate 1:
Tis not fair, my sisters, tis not fair
That we though blind are forced to stare
And stir the future as we may
And see the fate of further day.
Why blame poor us when thing go wrong
With all humanities endless song
When bad times run so reprobate
They say not our fault, it is fate.
The string unravels, tis the law
Of entropy that old Newton saw.
Takes energy mankind wants not to spend
To overcome fates dire end.
And now, and now, because of war and pain,
Because of greed and foul distain,
Because of sickness, plague and blight,
He says that we must make it right.
He says that we must grant the wish
Of one sole soul at random choose,
His next desire must become fate
And see then which way our wind blows.
Fate 2:
Alas, sister, it is true,
He says to do, so we must do.
But still, perhaps our way be had
It could just be, this wish brings bad.
His want could be the want of wealth
Mankind wants so much of greed,
That granting that to one we could
Leave oh so many stuck with need.
Or maybe he will wish a blight
Or pestilence on nation whole.
Then fate grants all, our task be light
As we put many in a hole.
There could be wish for love unspurned
To be idol of witless praise.
Then callous pain he can inflict
And leave others in unrequited craze.
But best of all, the wish might be
One such to blacken all the skies,
That one whose great and nobel, good
Would earn his ire, “I wish he dies.”
Fate 3:
A cackling laugh escapes my breast,
Good sister thou has changed my mood.
You shed a light on darkest heart,
For us, this wish could do us good.
An we are in just a spot
To influence how desire is spoke,
We’ll use our fate to mold his life
So much that his life seems broke.
And then he’ll wish what seems us fair
His wish a curse on one, or all.
Then fate fulfills the one’s command
We wish a wish, t’will make man fall.
So sisters prepare a little gift
For he whose chosen for our bane
So he can ask a gruesome wish
And our current fate starts up again.
And here’s the messenger who bears
The random name’s now to us sent.
Haste my sisters give him fates
To make his wish most dearly spent.
Jasen Walker stared blankly into the dark. He was standing at the bus stop, waiting for his ride home. True, it wasn’t his normal bus stop, but he was still just waiting for his ride home. It had been such a normal day at work until just 40 minutes before. No, it wasn’t just a normal day. It was a real good day. It was an exceptional day. He had been happy. After all, it was, no, it still is Christmas Eve. They were going to have the annual Christmas Eve toasts after work. Everyone would exchange their annual Christmas cards. That was how it happened at work on Christmas Eve. It happened every year for the past ten years. It was simple, but it made everyone happy. And 40 minutes ago, that was the plan. But now he was waiting for the bus, in the dark. Jasen thought then that it was all probably happening just as he had expected it would, except some of the others would be saying, “Hey, where’s Jasen?” And Doug would say, “He just said he had to go home.” That is what Jasen had asked him to say.
Forty minutes ago, Doug had called him into the production office at the cabinetry shop. Jasen liked working there. He had gotten the job straight out of high school. He didn’t know very much then, but he liked shop in school and the economy was just booming, so he got hired as just a shop helper. In the ten years since then, he had learned it all. He could use any equipment on the floor. He did the best quality work of all of the craftsmen, and in his shop that was saying a lot. And they had just gotten that big contract for the new department store. That was why 40 minutes ago, no 45 minutes ago now, didn’t make any sense. Doug just said, “Jasen, I’m sorry, but I have to let you go. I have to lay you off.” Jasen didn’t hear much after that. Doug mumbled something about, still coming to the party, coming by after the holidays to get his things. What Jasen thought he heard was a cackling laugh, but it was only inside his head. That is where it came from.
What he definitely didn’t hear was the call that Doug took just an hour before. Home office. Have to lay someone off. Imperative. No way around it. No, do it today. We don’t care, Doug, you choose. I don’t know, just put their names in a hat and draw one. I don’t know why, it’s just the accountants. No – today – or it will be you. Doug was sick. He was having the worst day. He did just what they had suggested. He put all their names in a hat and drew one out. He almost cried when it was Jasen. No, he did cry. And then he just did it. Jasen never heard that part. He just heard “lay you off.” And then the world just went dark. He asked Doug not to tell anyone. Just tell them I have to go home. And then he left.
That was fifty minutes ago now. It really was dark and not just in his mind. How he hated winter. Dark when you went to work. Dark when you went home. And the hate started eating at him. This was just not fair. Why him? Why today? And where was that bus? Bonnie would be coming out to catch the south bound bus any minute. The party would be winding down. He just couldn’t face Bonnie. So he started walking down the four blocks to the next stop. He just didn’t want to be around – them. It was sinking in now. They were having a party, and he was out in the cold, in the dark, with nothing. Why didn’t they lay off Bonnie? She just did the books and ordering in the office. She didn’t eve make real money for the company. Or Bobby? He was just the shop boy. He just cleaned and fetched like a little dog. Why didn’t they lay him off? Anybody could do his work. But no. They had to lay off Jasen on the day before Christmas so he couldn’t be happy with his two little girls. His mind mused and fumed and his teeth gritted. And half a block before bus stop, the bus went by.
Jasen yelled and waved and ran, but there was nobody at the stop so the bus just went on by. And it seemed right then that the snow came. Not a nice snow, but wet and driving snow behind a cold wind. It wasn’t even supposed to snow tonight. The weather man promised and he hadn’t even brought his gloves. Jasen cursed to himself as the bus lights faded. He swung and hit the light pole. Oh it hurt. And he heard again in his mind, a laugh, a cackle but not exactly like the first. What to do now? Just wait. So he hunched over and waited and his mind boiled at the injustice and the bad luck and the cold wet running down his neck and into his shoes. It was 30 more minutes before the next bus. That was 30 more minutes to fume. It had been 90 minutes all together. The bus finally pulled up. He got on the bus.
Jasen sat in an empty seat. He was cold and wet. He put his head down and closed his eyes. He was getting more and more upset. He knew they didn’t need to lay anyone off. They had lots of work. They were making lots of money. He hated the accountants. Why had Doug chosen him? Doug knew he had a family. He knew he had just bought a little home. He hated Doug. And here it was Christmas Eve. He knew lots of people got laid off just before Christmas. But Christmas Eve? He was supposed to be happy. He was miserable. He hated Christmas. He hated the presents and the lights and the whole thing. This morning he liked Christmas. This morning he couldn’t wait to see his girl’s bright eyes on Christmas morning. But that was all gone now. And what was that awful smell?
Jasen looked up to see a person sit in the seat next to him. A person? Just barely. He was shabby and dirty. Not just his cloths but him. He smelled of a year’s worth of living in the gutter. He smelled of a year’s worth of neglect. He smelled of a year’s worth of cheap wine and cigarettes. Jasen looked around. There was only one other person on the whole bus and this guy, this derelict had to sit by him? Jasen almost gagged and decided he had to leave. He stood and started shuffling past the old bum when the bum erupted. He just threw up. He threw up all down the front of Jasen’s pants. It was yellow and sloppy and, if possible, it smelled worse than the bum himself.
Jasen jumped up. He hit his shin on the seat in front of him. “Stop the bus,” he yelled. “Can’t – have to wait for the stop.” Jasen screamed, “Just stop the bus. This maggot person just . . oh, let me off.” Jasen started pulling the stop cord as fast as he could. Couldn’t the driver see that his bus was a mess? The bus driver had had enough, he pulled to the curb, as Jasen stumbled up the aisle. Just as the bus rolled to a stop, the front wheel dropped into a gigantic pot hole. The bus lurched. Jasen fell. His head hit the passenger safety rail that keeps others away from the driver. It was a hard hit, as hard as Jasen could remember for a long time. He rolled over on the floor. “Are you okay, mister?” It was the bus driver. He is probably just worried that I’m going to sue, thought Jasen. “Just leave me alone and let me off the bus.”
Jasen wobbled to his feet and down the steps. He was still at least twelve blocks from his normal stop, and then another six blocks from home. The wet sloppy snow was still falling and he was already feeling the wet and cold. The bus pulled away. And then the rear wheels hit the pot hole. It was a deep pot hole and the snow had filled it with cold slush. Jasen was facing away and the splash went right up the back of his legs. He yelled and turned just as the second of the tandem wheels went into the hole and sprayed the dirty oily slush up his front and in his face. He didn’t know how he felt. Was it anger? Was it despair? Was it just tired of life? He reached up and wiped the slush from his face, and saw blood on icy goop in his had. The fall on the bus had done more than bump his head. He pulled a wet soggy handkerchief from his pocket and held it to the hurt. The wind howled past and as it whirled past, he thought he heard again a cackle of laughter, and then another and then another. Each gust. Each freezing, wet draft laughed at him. He didn’t want to move. His legs didn’t want to step. It was eighteen blocks home and when he got there, what would be waiting for him?
That was an interesting question. What was at home? There was a small house with a broken fence and a mortgage and a second that was twice what the house was really worth. Complications from the second birth had made finances hard. The second birth had almost taken his wife, and little Rae was Downs syndrome. They were forced to hire a nurse while his wife recovered. That was four years ago. Their first daughter, Mae, was seven and perfectly healthy, but precocious. She was a house full all by herself. His wife had been sickly since the complications of the birth, and hadn’t felt very well the last week. He had been saddled with a lot of extra chores during the last week, as well as his work and getting everything ready for Christmas. (His mind flew back to Doug. How could he do this when he knew about the family? How could he?) What disasters waited for him when he opened the door to his over mortgaged, under sized house? He looked in the opposite direction. They would be waiting for him. He turned and started the long walk. The bus lights were disappearing in the blizzard a few blocks away.
He was frozen to pain when he got to his block. His was the third house. The first two were lit and cheerful against the wrath of the coming white Christmas. His was set back further from the street. The only sign of the holiday was a wreath he had stuck to the door. He looked up. No, the wreath was blown off into the bushes, the red ribbon staining the snow a blood red. He pushed on the gate but the snow at the bottom caught it. As was the gates habit, the top hinge came off of the pole. His numbed mind just didn’t care anymore. He stepped across the sagging gate but missed and stepped on it instead. The bottom hinge gave was and the gate splinted into the snow drift. Jasen was amazed that he managed to keep his balance at the shock. The way the evening was going, he though he should have slipped and impaled himself on the pickets. Instead, he just stepped on the gate carcass and slowly approached the door to his haven.
The door opened and the first thing to hit him was the warmth. And then there was the smell. It was ham. He saw his wife in the kitchen. So she was feeling better, at least good enough to start the dinner. She turned and smiled at him in the door, but the smile instantly turned to a look of alarm as she left the kitchen to come to him. He imagined how he must look. Her hand went to her mouth and she started towards him, but before she could say another word he was accosted from the side. “Daddy, Daddy, Grandmas sent a package and I opened it and it had presents and mommy got mad because I opened them too and I got a new doll and pajamas in mine but Rae didn’t open hers and Daddy come and see and . . “ then Mae stopped. “Daddy you smell yechy.” He looked down. There was Mae, dressed in new pajamas over her clothes. Right behind her was toddling Rea, dressed in nothing, which could have been cute, except right at that minute she went to the bathroom on the carpet and started to cry. Then the smoke alarm went off and his wife turned and yelled something about the gravy boiling over and smoke started billowing from the kitchen.
Jasen was done. He had his limit. He just yelled at the top of his voice. “Stop it all of you! Just leave me alone! I just wish I could have five minutes of peace in this world!”
In his mind, or through the crack in the weather stripping of the front door, Jasen heard the weird voices again. But it was not a laugh this time. Instead it sounded like a piercing cry of “No o o o o o.” It faded into the distance as he looked upon the silent and sorry faces of his family.
Michael the Arch Angel (Chuckling)
So that is the story of the wish. Now you know how it happened. Oh, those of us who choose the right were pretty happy. I almost think He knew what would happen. I think he knew what the old hags would do and set them up. But they were trapped. He made the decree. Jasen was the chosen one. He made his wish. They had to live by it. Most people didn’t notice that the next five minutes were different, but, oh they were. And, in fact, they changed things. Those three old bats couldn’t have their way for a long time after that wish. I couldn’t even think of telling the whole story. Maybe I’ll just reveal just a couple of scenes. Yes, that would show some of the effects of Jasen’s wish. I’ll show you that. Oh, but the most wonderful part was how good I felt. It still makes me smile.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was just supposed to be a peace keeper. When he joined the reserves, it was just a way to add a little bit of income for his family. Spend a weekend a month and two weeks a year. Now here he was, under fire in a hostile land. Not that the people were hostile. Most of them were kind and generous and thankful. But there was the faction that was causing all of the trouble. And now the trouble was open warfare. He couldn’t believe it. He knew they didn’t have Christmas. He had heard that in other wars, the enemy had used holidays as attack times. Still, this had come as a surprise. Just after dark on Christmas Eve, they had attacked the checkpoint. Not just the normal car bomb or road side explosion. This was an attack. By the time he and his troop had got there, it was almost constant gunfire. Now, he was hunkering behind a wall. The sun had risen a few moments before. Around the corner was a doorway, and there had been gunfire coming from that doorway. He had to stop that. That gunfire had hit his friend. He wouldn’t die. But he would be crippled for life. He wouldn’t get mentioned in the newscasts at home. They only mentioned the dead. Not those who lost hands or legs or eyes. They didn’t mention the good people in this country. They didn’t mention the gratitude in most of the faces. They only mentioned the dead. He was horribly afraid that if he went to clear that doorway, that he would be mentioned on the newscasts. He heard the command, go now. So he did. As he got to the door in a hunching run, he saw the man. The enemy had retreated back into the room and was holding something. As his foe crossed a patch of sunlight, he saw that he carried a fragmentary grenade. In that second, he saw the pin pulled and the trigger fly away. That meant only three seconds. As he ran towards the door, his gun swung up and he pulled the trigger. All he heard was a click. Just a click. His friend was right behind him. Another click. Both of their guns had miss fired and they both fell to the ground and waited for the inevitable. How would it feel when the explosion came? It seemed like an eternity, and nothing happened. He took his hands from over his head and looked up. The enemy was still standing at the back of the room. He could see him through the open door. The enemy’s hand was still cocked for a throw, but he wasn’t moving. He was just looking at the grenade, the unexploded grenade in his hand. It hadn’t exploded either. With caution, he slowly rose from the ground and walked into the room. As the grenade dropped from his had to the floor, the insurgent looked to the corner under the window. There, huddled behind a chair was a mother and two children. All the armed men saw them, and then the young guardsman looked into the face of the man he had almost shot. In his eyes, were fear, and almost shame. He knew it was shame, because that is what he felt. But then he felt a calm. And then he heard it. He turned and realized the battle had stopped. It was quiet. It was the quiet of dawn in an exotic country. His gun lowered and he looked in the dark eyes of the man he had almost killed, and he smiled. As one movement, both men went to the woman, helped her up and comforted her children.
She couldn’t say the words that spoke of how she loathed him. She didn’t even like to think them. They made her feel dirty. They made her feel low, like the worm he was. The whole divorce was his fault. His and that little tramp. Oh, he said he just didn’t love her anymore. She just wasn’t sexy enough for him. She didn’t ring his bell anymore. So now they were in the middle of this nasty little divorce. It was all his fault and he was going to pay and pay dearly. And then he had called this meeting on Christmas Eve. He just couldn’t wait to tell her how he had hidden all of his funds. He said it was so they could get it cleared up before the New Year, but she knew it was gloating. He was evil. She would find a way to make him pay. Oh, yes, this would last until into the new year, and even longer than that if she didn’t get her due. She sat in the lawyer’s office. It was high enough in the building to just see the sun sinking over the ocean horizon. He was late. He and his slimy lawyer were late. He was probably doing it on purpose. She simmered in her hatred for another ten minutes before the door opened and he came in, smiling and apologizing. What a crock he was. The negotiations started, lawyer to lawyer, but that changed soon. He said she was mistaken about how much he was really worth, and he had the books to show it. That was all she could stand. In the brief tirade that followed, she found she could say the words that spoke of how much she loathed him. The lawyers were shocked, her husband – soon to be ex- – were shocked. She was shocked. In all of the other meetings she hadn’t so much as said a word. Now it was time – and oh the words she said. The last edge of the sun sank below the horizon and she sunk into her chair. She sunk into the abyss into which she had dropped. And she cried. And the room went quiet. And then, she knew how wrong she was. Not just for the outburst, but for the outrage. She looked up, her mascara tear stained eyes catching the looks on the lawyer’s faces. No they were not the demons she had seem them as over the past weeks. They were just men, men who now seemed confused as to their part in the drama. Then she glanced at the man-monster. No there was no monster there. Only the man, the one who had cared for her while their children had grown, the one who was still paying for their college loans, the one who had loved her for so long. And the thought came, maybe I have become less than the woman he married and loved. It was not a good thought, but she saw the man in a different light. And somehow he was different. He reached across and held her had, while she calmed. He apologized. He did not know that she had felt that strongly. He was sorry. She could see he truly was. And then he said it. Perhaps they should try again. She smiled and it was not a fake, sarcastic smile. It was a real smile. No, she said, that would never work. But maybe they could have this unpleasantness over by the end of the year. It would be nice to have a fresh start. All around the table sighed. And the couple, soon to be not a couple, held hands for the last time.
Cancer had riddled her body for a long time. It had done the work of destruction for months before the doctors had even known. By the time it was discovered in her left breast, it had moved to the lymph nodes under her arm and from there had spread to other parts of her body, most importantly at this moment to her stomach. That was the cancer that was going to kill her. That was the cancer that had driven her out of home care hospice and back to a hospital bed. That was the cancer that caused the pain that had her on a morphine laced drip and was keeping her in a stupor, glazed eyes, unable to speak and to those around her, unable to listen. Those around her included her daughter, only 17 and now sitting and holding her hand. It included her son, who sat irritably in the corner reading a magazine, knowing that he needed to be here and glad he was, but wishing to be with his girlfriend from the university. It included her husband, who was dozing on the other side of the bed after five days without leaving. He had to be exhausted. Of course he was dozing it was just after midnight here in Europe. That meant something important didn’t it. She searched her drug numbed mind and then it came to her. Yes, it was Christmas. Christmas? She could not die on Christmas. What a horrible memory for her family. Merry Christmas? Right, that was the day mother died. Right, that was the day I was left alone. No, she would fight it. She could last just one more day. She knew she could do it. She gritted her teeth in resolve, a gesture that was not lost on her daughter. Mother? That was all that was said. But another voice came into her mind. It was a voice of gentleness and a voice of comfort. It said let go. You have fought the fight. You have made them strong. They will be okay. Come away. She closed her eyes and thought how sweet that would be. No more looking into the loved ones saddened eyes. No more morphine laced dreams. No more pain. Yes, they were strong. They were able to carry on. They would be sad, but they loved her and this could be her best Christmas gift for them. It had been a long trying stand for them also. She let go. She slipped quickly away towards the voice. Welcome back it said as she closed her eyes.
Doug had gotten home later than usual. Not that it mattered. He lived alone in a small apartment. He had drunk more than usual at the Christmas party. He wondered if anyone had noticed. He hadn’t talked very much either. He wondered if anyone had noticed that either. He was absorbed in his own anguish. He had done something despicable. He had not stood up for what was right. He had destroyed a friend. He knew it and he knew he had done it on Christmas Eve. He could still hear the words echoing I his ear. Have to lay someone off. Imperative. No way around it. No, do it today. We don’t care, Doug, you choose. I don’t know, just put their names in a hat and draw one. I don’t know why, it’s just the accountants. No – today – or it will be you. He had done just exactly what they had said. And it had been Jasen. Why Jasen. He had a family, a struggling family but Jasen never complained. He just did quality work and then a little bit extra. What bothered Doug most was that he hadn’t stood up to the edict. It would had been better if he had just quit, right there on the spot. But he didn’t. Doug felt less than a man, or at least the lowest of all men on the earth. The Christmas party had started at work and he had just said that Jasen had to go home to his little family. Everyone had understood, but the mention of the little family in the little home had made Doug feel even worse. He had drained his glass at every toast, not just the traditional sip, and had nearly chocked when they toasted Jasen’s health and wished him a Merry Christmas. He was pretty well drunk when every one else left and he turned out the lights. He was so drunk that when he stopped at the pub, they wouldn’t even give him one beer. He left in a huff and walked to his apartment where he sat now. He was still drinking, half a bottle gone on the kitchen table before him. But there was a full bottle there that he could see through his blurry eyes, a full bottle of his high blood pressure medicine. He wondered what it would feel like if he took a lot, or even all of it. Would his blood pressure just drop to zero? In fact, that is what he wanted. He was fighting with the cap when the phone rang. No need to answer that. With a little giggle he thought he would just let the machine get it. He was still fighting with the cap. Then the machine turned on and he heard the voice leave the message. Through the tears in his eyes, he was so grateful the cap wouldn’t open.
Jasen stood and stared down at the little bare body of Rae. Just a second ago all he had wanted to do was reach down and swat her behind for peeing on the carpet. Now he just saw the smile of her sweetness. She didn’t even know it was Christmas. She just knew her daddy was home and it made her smile – and evidently pee. He reached down and gathered her up in his arms and then saw her discarded diaper over under the unlit Christmas tree. She had taken it off because it was soiled, and no one had cleaned her. Jasen realized what the condition of the little bear bottom that was on his arm must be. Oh well, he though, it couldn’t be any worse than the condition of my pants. He gave her a little kiss on her Downs snubbed nose. Then he smiled down at Mae, a smile that reassured the little imp in her and she started dancing and showing off her new pajamas over her cloths again. Yes they were beautiful. And then on to his wife. Oh, how he must have startled his darling. He hurried into the kitchen where she was just cleaning up the last of the spilled gravy. He could see she was closed to tears, so he started to grab her behind for a little squeeze, but then realized that a squeeze from the snow monster of vomit land might not be as pleasant for her as it was for him. He also thought that little Rae’s nakedness could be uncomfortable for her against his wet and snowy coat. “Sorry, honey,” he said, and his voice really meant it. She turned and said, “Jasen, what happened to you. You’re late, and your frozen and you stink and your hurt. Oh, Honey, that looks like it might need stitches.” Jasen just smiled. She loved him. She was concerned. Stitches? “Oh, I missed my first bus and it snowed and I slipped and so I’m just a little bit messy. Oh, and a guy on the bus threw up. Here, I better clean Rea up and then I better clean me up. I’ll set the table after I take a shower.” He picked up a roll of paper towels and started walking back to the wet spot in the living room, then turned and smiled at his wife. “I am just so glad to be home.”
And two minutes later his clothes were in a pile on the bathroom floor. They would have to be put on the back porch until after Christmas. No time to clean them up now or tomorrow. He needed a shower. He needed to be back with his family. But first, for some reason he needed to make a phone call. Just standing there in his underwear, a little chilled, but warm in the heart he picked up the phone and dialed. Four rings and then the machine clicked on. He wasn’t surprised. He would just leave a message. “Hey, Doug. It’s me, Jasen.” He was surprised at how even his voice was. Just like nothing had happened. In fact, he sounded almost cheerful. “I just wanted to call and tell you that I’m okay – with everything. I know this couldn’t have been your fault. You have always been so good to me. Heck, you hired me when I didn’t even know anything and gave me a chance, and I have always been grateful for that. Don’t worry about me, Doug. You’ve taught me well and now I think I can get a job anywhere. Someone will want to hire me. I know it. I’ll be in just like normal the day after Christmas, and we can talk. I have to get my things and now I want to say hi to everyone. Have a merry Christmas, Doug.” From down the hall he heard the commotion of Christmas and smelt the ham and the slightly burnt gravy. “Hurry, daddy!” Just 130 minutes ago, he thought his life was ruined. Now he knew the best part was still there. He turned and hopped in the shower.
(For those interested - not required reading. A couple years ago, at Mat's urging, I wrote a short story. It is a Christmas story. It is longer. It is presented here in it's entirety. Read if you must - or want to.)
Peace On Earth
Michael the Arch Angel:
So here’s the story. Things have been going pretty badly in the world, with wars and rumors of wars and pestilences and plagues. Yes, that is supposed to happen, it says so in the Bible, but things have been going down hill faster than the master plan called for. The planning committee looked into it and found the culprit – fate. Or more precisely, the Fates. You remember those three old hags – blind – one eye. Well it seems they were having a little too much fun bending fate to their own evil designs. Face it, they liked the chaos of the world. It made the fate job easier. Well, the Fates were called to task in an executive meeting and told to cut it out. However, just cutting it out didn’t satisfy the big guy. He gave them one more thing they had to do to recompense for their sins. One mortal would be chosen at random, and then they had to grant that mortal his, or her, next wish. And then they had to have the results of that wish molded into fate itself. I can tell you that made the old girls mad, but that takes us up to the start of the real story, so I’ll leave it to you now to read the rest of the story.
Oh, just to prepare you about a couple of things that you should understand. I am in a real good mood today, so this introduction is a tad bit light-hearted. Don’t confuse this playfulness with the mood of the rest of the story. It is really dark in some places. Also, just to warn you about the Fates. They used to be just plain old witchy types, but they got grandiose when they were depicted in the old myths. Homer and all really went to their heads. Now they only talk in verse. Sheesh, you would think they were the creations of Shakespeare himself.
And Michael exits.
And the Fates enter.
Fate 1:
Tis not fair, my sisters, tis not fair
That we though blind are forced to stare
And stir the future as we may
And see the fate of further day.
Why blame poor us when thing go wrong
With all humanities endless song
When bad times run so reprobate
They say not our fault, it is fate.
The string unravels, tis the law
Of entropy that old Newton saw.
Takes energy mankind wants not to spend
To overcome fates dire end.
And now, and now, because of war and pain,
Because of greed and foul distain,
Because of sickness, plague and blight,
He says that we must make it right.
He says that we must grant the wish
Of one sole soul at random choose,
His next desire must become fate
And see then which way our wind blows.
Fate 2:
Alas, sister, it is true,
He says to do, so we must do.
But still, perhaps our way be had
It could just be, this wish brings bad.
His want could be the want of wealth
Mankind wants so much of greed,
That granting that to one we could
Leave oh so many stuck with need.
Or maybe he will wish a blight
Or pestilence on nation whole.
Then fate grants all, our task be light
As we put many in a hole.
There could be wish for love unspurned
To be idol of witless praise.
Then callous pain he can inflict
And leave others in unrequited craze.
But best of all, the wish might be
One such to blacken all the skies,
That one whose great and nobel, good
Would earn his ire, “I wish he dies.”
Fate 3:
A cackling laugh escapes my breast,
Good sister thou has changed my mood.
You shed a light on darkest heart,
For us, this wish could do us good.
An we are in just a spot
To influence how desire is spoke,
We’ll use our fate to mold his life
So much that his life seems broke.
And then he’ll wish what seems us fair
His wish a curse on one, or all.
Then fate fulfills the one’s command
We wish a wish, t’will make man fall.
So sisters prepare a little gift
For he whose chosen for our bane
So he can ask a gruesome wish
And our current fate starts up again.
And here’s the messenger who bears
The random name’s now to us sent.
Haste my sisters give him fates
To make his wish most dearly spent.
Jasen Walker stared blankly into the dark. He was standing at the bus stop, waiting for his ride home. True, it wasn’t his normal bus stop, but he was still just waiting for his ride home. It had been such a normal day at work until just 40 minutes before. No, it wasn’t just a normal day. It was a real good day. It was an exceptional day. He had been happy. After all, it was, no, it still is Christmas Eve. They were going to have the annual Christmas Eve toasts after work. Everyone would exchange their annual Christmas cards. That was how it happened at work on Christmas Eve. It happened every year for the past ten years. It was simple, but it made everyone happy. And 40 minutes ago, that was the plan. But now he was waiting for the bus, in the dark. Jasen thought then that it was all probably happening just as he had expected it would, except some of the others would be saying, “Hey, where’s Jasen?” And Doug would say, “He just said he had to go home.” That is what Jasen had asked him to say.
Forty minutes ago, Doug had called him into the production office at the cabinetry shop. Jasen liked working there. He had gotten the job straight out of high school. He didn’t know very much then, but he liked shop in school and the economy was just booming, so he got hired as just a shop helper. In the ten years since then, he had learned it all. He could use any equipment on the floor. He did the best quality work of all of the craftsmen, and in his shop that was saying a lot. And they had just gotten that big contract for the new department store. That was why 40 minutes ago, no 45 minutes ago now, didn’t make any sense. Doug just said, “Jasen, I’m sorry, but I have to let you go. I have to lay you off.” Jasen didn’t hear much after that. Doug mumbled something about, still coming to the party, coming by after the holidays to get his things. What Jasen thought he heard was a cackling laugh, but it was only inside his head. That is where it came from.
What he definitely didn’t hear was the call that Doug took just an hour before. Home office. Have to lay someone off. Imperative. No way around it. No, do it today. We don’t care, Doug, you choose. I don’t know, just put their names in a hat and draw one. I don’t know why, it’s just the accountants. No – today – or it will be you. Doug was sick. He was having the worst day. He did just what they had suggested. He put all their names in a hat and drew one out. He almost cried when it was Jasen. No, he did cry. And then he just did it. Jasen never heard that part. He just heard “lay you off.” And then the world just went dark. He asked Doug not to tell anyone. Just tell them I have to go home. And then he left.
That was fifty minutes ago now. It really was dark and not just in his mind. How he hated winter. Dark when you went to work. Dark when you went home. And the hate started eating at him. This was just not fair. Why him? Why today? And where was that bus? Bonnie would be coming out to catch the south bound bus any minute. The party would be winding down. He just couldn’t face Bonnie. So he started walking down the four blocks to the next stop. He just didn’t want to be around – them. It was sinking in now. They were having a party, and he was out in the cold, in the dark, with nothing. Why didn’t they lay off Bonnie? She just did the books and ordering in the office. She didn’t eve make real money for the company. Or Bobby? He was just the shop boy. He just cleaned and fetched like a little dog. Why didn’t they lay him off? Anybody could do his work. But no. They had to lay off Jasen on the day before Christmas so he couldn’t be happy with his two little girls. His mind mused and fumed and his teeth gritted. And half a block before bus stop, the bus went by.
Jasen yelled and waved and ran, but there was nobody at the stop so the bus just went on by. And it seemed right then that the snow came. Not a nice snow, but wet and driving snow behind a cold wind. It wasn’t even supposed to snow tonight. The weather man promised and he hadn’t even brought his gloves. Jasen cursed to himself as the bus lights faded. He swung and hit the light pole. Oh it hurt. And he heard again in his mind, a laugh, a cackle but not exactly like the first. What to do now? Just wait. So he hunched over and waited and his mind boiled at the injustice and the bad luck and the cold wet running down his neck and into his shoes. It was 30 more minutes before the next bus. That was 30 more minutes to fume. It had been 90 minutes all together. The bus finally pulled up. He got on the bus.
Jasen sat in an empty seat. He was cold and wet. He put his head down and closed his eyes. He was getting more and more upset. He knew they didn’t need to lay anyone off. They had lots of work. They were making lots of money. He hated the accountants. Why had Doug chosen him? Doug knew he had a family. He knew he had just bought a little home. He hated Doug. And here it was Christmas Eve. He knew lots of people got laid off just before Christmas. But Christmas Eve? He was supposed to be happy. He was miserable. He hated Christmas. He hated the presents and the lights and the whole thing. This morning he liked Christmas. This morning he couldn’t wait to see his girl’s bright eyes on Christmas morning. But that was all gone now. And what was that awful smell?
Jasen looked up to see a person sit in the seat next to him. A person? Just barely. He was shabby and dirty. Not just his cloths but him. He smelled of a year’s worth of living in the gutter. He smelled of a year’s worth of neglect. He smelled of a year’s worth of cheap wine and cigarettes. Jasen looked around. There was only one other person on the whole bus and this guy, this derelict had to sit by him? Jasen almost gagged and decided he had to leave. He stood and started shuffling past the old bum when the bum erupted. He just threw up. He threw up all down the front of Jasen’s pants. It was yellow and sloppy and, if possible, it smelled worse than the bum himself.
Jasen jumped up. He hit his shin on the seat in front of him. “Stop the bus,” he yelled. “Can’t – have to wait for the stop.” Jasen screamed, “Just stop the bus. This maggot person just . . oh, let me off.” Jasen started pulling the stop cord as fast as he could. Couldn’t the driver see that his bus was a mess? The bus driver had had enough, he pulled to the curb, as Jasen stumbled up the aisle. Just as the bus rolled to a stop, the front wheel dropped into a gigantic pot hole. The bus lurched. Jasen fell. His head hit the passenger safety rail that keeps others away from the driver. It was a hard hit, as hard as Jasen could remember for a long time. He rolled over on the floor. “Are you okay, mister?” It was the bus driver. He is probably just worried that I’m going to sue, thought Jasen. “Just leave me alone and let me off the bus.”
Jasen wobbled to his feet and down the steps. He was still at least twelve blocks from his normal stop, and then another six blocks from home. The wet sloppy snow was still falling and he was already feeling the wet and cold. The bus pulled away. And then the rear wheels hit the pot hole. It was a deep pot hole and the snow had filled it with cold slush. Jasen was facing away and the splash went right up the back of his legs. He yelled and turned just as the second of the tandem wheels went into the hole and sprayed the dirty oily slush up his front and in his face. He didn’t know how he felt. Was it anger? Was it despair? Was it just tired of life? He reached up and wiped the slush from his face, and saw blood on icy goop in his had. The fall on the bus had done more than bump his head. He pulled a wet soggy handkerchief from his pocket and held it to the hurt. The wind howled past and as it whirled past, he thought he heard again a cackle of laughter, and then another and then another. Each gust. Each freezing, wet draft laughed at him. He didn’t want to move. His legs didn’t want to step. It was eighteen blocks home and when he got there, what would be waiting for him?
That was an interesting question. What was at home? There was a small house with a broken fence and a mortgage and a second that was twice what the house was really worth. Complications from the second birth had made finances hard. The second birth had almost taken his wife, and little Rae was Downs syndrome. They were forced to hire a nurse while his wife recovered. That was four years ago. Their first daughter, Mae, was seven and perfectly healthy, but precocious. She was a house full all by herself. His wife had been sickly since the complications of the birth, and hadn’t felt very well the last week. He had been saddled with a lot of extra chores during the last week, as well as his work and getting everything ready for Christmas. (His mind flew back to Doug. How could he do this when he knew about the family? How could he?) What disasters waited for him when he opened the door to his over mortgaged, under sized house? He looked in the opposite direction. They would be waiting for him. He turned and started the long walk. The bus lights were disappearing in the blizzard a few blocks away.
He was frozen to pain when he got to his block. His was the third house. The first two were lit and cheerful against the wrath of the coming white Christmas. His was set back further from the street. The only sign of the holiday was a wreath he had stuck to the door. He looked up. No, the wreath was blown off into the bushes, the red ribbon staining the snow a blood red. He pushed on the gate but the snow at the bottom caught it. As was the gates habit, the top hinge came off of the pole. His numbed mind just didn’t care anymore. He stepped across the sagging gate but missed and stepped on it instead. The bottom hinge gave was and the gate splinted into the snow drift. Jasen was amazed that he managed to keep his balance at the shock. The way the evening was going, he though he should have slipped and impaled himself on the pickets. Instead, he just stepped on the gate carcass and slowly approached the door to his haven.
The door opened and the first thing to hit him was the warmth. And then there was the smell. It was ham. He saw his wife in the kitchen. So she was feeling better, at least good enough to start the dinner. She turned and smiled at him in the door, but the smile instantly turned to a look of alarm as she left the kitchen to come to him. He imagined how he must look. Her hand went to her mouth and she started towards him, but before she could say another word he was accosted from the side. “Daddy, Daddy, Grandmas sent a package and I opened it and it had presents and mommy got mad because I opened them too and I got a new doll and pajamas in mine but Rae didn’t open hers and Daddy come and see and . . “ then Mae stopped. “Daddy you smell yechy.” He looked down. There was Mae, dressed in new pajamas over her clothes. Right behind her was toddling Rea, dressed in nothing, which could have been cute, except right at that minute she went to the bathroom on the carpet and started to cry. Then the smoke alarm went off and his wife turned and yelled something about the gravy boiling over and smoke started billowing from the kitchen.
Jasen was done. He had his limit. He just yelled at the top of his voice. “Stop it all of you! Just leave me alone! I just wish I could have five minutes of peace in this world!”
In his mind, or through the crack in the weather stripping of the front door, Jasen heard the weird voices again. But it was not a laugh this time. Instead it sounded like a piercing cry of “No o o o o o.” It faded into the distance as he looked upon the silent and sorry faces of his family.
Michael the Arch Angel (Chuckling)
So that is the story of the wish. Now you know how it happened. Oh, those of us who choose the right were pretty happy. I almost think He knew what would happen. I think he knew what the old hags would do and set them up. But they were trapped. He made the decree. Jasen was the chosen one. He made his wish. They had to live by it. Most people didn’t notice that the next five minutes were different, but, oh they were. And, in fact, they changed things. Those three old bats couldn’t have their way for a long time after that wish. I couldn’t even think of telling the whole story. Maybe I’ll just reveal just a couple of scenes. Yes, that would show some of the effects of Jasen’s wish. I’ll show you that. Oh, but the most wonderful part was how good I felt. It still makes me smile.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was just supposed to be a peace keeper. When he joined the reserves, it was just a way to add a little bit of income for his family. Spend a weekend a month and two weeks a year. Now here he was, under fire in a hostile land. Not that the people were hostile. Most of them were kind and generous and thankful. But there was the faction that was causing all of the trouble. And now the trouble was open warfare. He couldn’t believe it. He knew they didn’t have Christmas. He had heard that in other wars, the enemy had used holidays as attack times. Still, this had come as a surprise. Just after dark on Christmas Eve, they had attacked the checkpoint. Not just the normal car bomb or road side explosion. This was an attack. By the time he and his troop had got there, it was almost constant gunfire. Now, he was hunkering behind a wall. The sun had risen a few moments before. Around the corner was a doorway, and there had been gunfire coming from that doorway. He had to stop that. That gunfire had hit his friend. He wouldn’t die. But he would be crippled for life. He wouldn’t get mentioned in the newscasts at home. They only mentioned the dead. Not those who lost hands or legs or eyes. They didn’t mention the good people in this country. They didn’t mention the gratitude in most of the faces. They only mentioned the dead. He was horribly afraid that if he went to clear that doorway, that he would be mentioned on the newscasts. He heard the command, go now. So he did. As he got to the door in a hunching run, he saw the man. The enemy had retreated back into the room and was holding something. As his foe crossed a patch of sunlight, he saw that he carried a fragmentary grenade. In that second, he saw the pin pulled and the trigger fly away. That meant only three seconds. As he ran towards the door, his gun swung up and he pulled the trigger. All he heard was a click. Just a click. His friend was right behind him. Another click. Both of their guns had miss fired and they both fell to the ground and waited for the inevitable. How would it feel when the explosion came? It seemed like an eternity, and nothing happened. He took his hands from over his head and looked up. The enemy was still standing at the back of the room. He could see him through the open door. The enemy’s hand was still cocked for a throw, but he wasn’t moving. He was just looking at the grenade, the unexploded grenade in his hand. It hadn’t exploded either. With caution, he slowly rose from the ground and walked into the room. As the grenade dropped from his had to the floor, the insurgent looked to the corner under the window. There, huddled behind a chair was a mother and two children. All the armed men saw them, and then the young guardsman looked into the face of the man he had almost shot. In his eyes, were fear, and almost shame. He knew it was shame, because that is what he felt. But then he felt a calm. And then he heard it. He turned and realized the battle had stopped. It was quiet. It was the quiet of dawn in an exotic country. His gun lowered and he looked in the dark eyes of the man he had almost killed, and he smiled. As one movement, both men went to the woman, helped her up and comforted her children.
She couldn’t say the words that spoke of how she loathed him. She didn’t even like to think them. They made her feel dirty. They made her feel low, like the worm he was. The whole divorce was his fault. His and that little tramp. Oh, he said he just didn’t love her anymore. She just wasn’t sexy enough for him. She didn’t ring his bell anymore. So now they were in the middle of this nasty little divorce. It was all his fault and he was going to pay and pay dearly. And then he had called this meeting on Christmas Eve. He just couldn’t wait to tell her how he had hidden all of his funds. He said it was so they could get it cleared up before the New Year, but she knew it was gloating. He was evil. She would find a way to make him pay. Oh, yes, this would last until into the new year, and even longer than that if she didn’t get her due. She sat in the lawyer’s office. It was high enough in the building to just see the sun sinking over the ocean horizon. He was late. He and his slimy lawyer were late. He was probably doing it on purpose. She simmered in her hatred for another ten minutes before the door opened and he came in, smiling and apologizing. What a crock he was. The negotiations started, lawyer to lawyer, but that changed soon. He said she was mistaken about how much he was really worth, and he had the books to show it. That was all she could stand. In the brief tirade that followed, she found she could say the words that spoke of how much she loathed him. The lawyers were shocked, her husband – soon to be ex- – were shocked. She was shocked. In all of the other meetings she hadn’t so much as said a word. Now it was time – and oh the words she said. The last edge of the sun sank below the horizon and she sunk into her chair. She sunk into the abyss into which she had dropped. And she cried. And the room went quiet. And then, she knew how wrong she was. Not just for the outburst, but for the outrage. She looked up, her mascara tear stained eyes catching the looks on the lawyer’s faces. No they were not the demons she had seem them as over the past weeks. They were just men, men who now seemed confused as to their part in the drama. Then she glanced at the man-monster. No there was no monster there. Only the man, the one who had cared for her while their children had grown, the one who was still paying for their college loans, the one who had loved her for so long. And the thought came, maybe I have become less than the woman he married and loved. It was not a good thought, but she saw the man in a different light. And somehow he was different. He reached across and held her had, while she calmed. He apologized. He did not know that she had felt that strongly. He was sorry. She could see he truly was. And then he said it. Perhaps they should try again. She smiled and it was not a fake, sarcastic smile. It was a real smile. No, she said, that would never work. But maybe they could have this unpleasantness over by the end of the year. It would be nice to have a fresh start. All around the table sighed. And the couple, soon to be not a couple, held hands for the last time.
Cancer had riddled her body for a long time. It had done the work of destruction for months before the doctors had even known. By the time it was discovered in her left breast, it had moved to the lymph nodes under her arm and from there had spread to other parts of her body, most importantly at this moment to her stomach. That was the cancer that was going to kill her. That was the cancer that had driven her out of home care hospice and back to a hospital bed. That was the cancer that caused the pain that had her on a morphine laced drip and was keeping her in a stupor, glazed eyes, unable to speak and to those around her, unable to listen. Those around her included her daughter, only 17 and now sitting and holding her hand. It included her son, who sat irritably in the corner reading a magazine, knowing that he needed to be here and glad he was, but wishing to be with his girlfriend from the university. It included her husband, who was dozing on the other side of the bed after five days without leaving. He had to be exhausted. Of course he was dozing it was just after midnight here in Europe. That meant something important didn’t it. She searched her drug numbed mind and then it came to her. Yes, it was Christmas. Christmas? She could not die on Christmas. What a horrible memory for her family. Merry Christmas? Right, that was the day mother died. Right, that was the day I was left alone. No, she would fight it. She could last just one more day. She knew she could do it. She gritted her teeth in resolve, a gesture that was not lost on her daughter. Mother? That was all that was said. But another voice came into her mind. It was a voice of gentleness and a voice of comfort. It said let go. You have fought the fight. You have made them strong. They will be okay. Come away. She closed her eyes and thought how sweet that would be. No more looking into the loved ones saddened eyes. No more morphine laced dreams. No more pain. Yes, they were strong. They were able to carry on. They would be sad, but they loved her and this could be her best Christmas gift for them. It had been a long trying stand for them also. She let go. She slipped quickly away towards the voice. Welcome back it said as she closed her eyes.
Doug had gotten home later than usual. Not that it mattered. He lived alone in a small apartment. He had drunk more than usual at the Christmas party. He wondered if anyone had noticed. He hadn’t talked very much either. He wondered if anyone had noticed that either. He was absorbed in his own anguish. He had done something despicable. He had not stood up for what was right. He had destroyed a friend. He knew it and he knew he had done it on Christmas Eve. He could still hear the words echoing I his ear. Have to lay someone off. Imperative. No way around it. No, do it today. We don’t care, Doug, you choose. I don’t know, just put their names in a hat and draw one. I don’t know why, it’s just the accountants. No – today – or it will be you. He had done just exactly what they had said. And it had been Jasen. Why Jasen. He had a family, a struggling family but Jasen never complained. He just did quality work and then a little bit extra. What bothered Doug most was that he hadn’t stood up to the edict. It would had been better if he had just quit, right there on the spot. But he didn’t. Doug felt less than a man, or at least the lowest of all men on the earth. The Christmas party had started at work and he had just said that Jasen had to go home to his little family. Everyone had understood, but the mention of the little family in the little home had made Doug feel even worse. He had drained his glass at every toast, not just the traditional sip, and had nearly chocked when they toasted Jasen’s health and wished him a Merry Christmas. He was pretty well drunk when every one else left and he turned out the lights. He was so drunk that when he stopped at the pub, they wouldn’t even give him one beer. He left in a huff and walked to his apartment where he sat now. He was still drinking, half a bottle gone on the kitchen table before him. But there was a full bottle there that he could see through his blurry eyes, a full bottle of his high blood pressure medicine. He wondered what it would feel like if he took a lot, or even all of it. Would his blood pressure just drop to zero? In fact, that is what he wanted. He was fighting with the cap when the phone rang. No need to answer that. With a little giggle he thought he would just let the machine get it. He was still fighting with the cap. Then the machine turned on and he heard the voice leave the message. Through the tears in his eyes, he was so grateful the cap wouldn’t open.
Jasen stood and stared down at the little bare body of Rae. Just a second ago all he had wanted to do was reach down and swat her behind for peeing on the carpet. Now he just saw the smile of her sweetness. She didn’t even know it was Christmas. She just knew her daddy was home and it made her smile – and evidently pee. He reached down and gathered her up in his arms and then saw her discarded diaper over under the unlit Christmas tree. She had taken it off because it was soiled, and no one had cleaned her. Jasen realized what the condition of the little bear bottom that was on his arm must be. Oh well, he though, it couldn’t be any worse than the condition of my pants. He gave her a little kiss on her Downs snubbed nose. Then he smiled down at Mae, a smile that reassured the little imp in her and she started dancing and showing off her new pajamas over her cloths again. Yes they were beautiful. And then on to his wife. Oh, how he must have startled his darling. He hurried into the kitchen where she was just cleaning up the last of the spilled gravy. He could see she was closed to tears, so he started to grab her behind for a little squeeze, but then realized that a squeeze from the snow monster of vomit land might not be as pleasant for her as it was for him. He also thought that little Rae’s nakedness could be uncomfortable for her against his wet and snowy coat. “Sorry, honey,” he said, and his voice really meant it. She turned and said, “Jasen, what happened to you. You’re late, and your frozen and you stink and your hurt. Oh, Honey, that looks like it might need stitches.” Jasen just smiled. She loved him. She was concerned. Stitches? “Oh, I missed my first bus and it snowed and I slipped and so I’m just a little bit messy. Oh, and a guy on the bus threw up. Here, I better clean Rea up and then I better clean me up. I’ll set the table after I take a shower.” He picked up a roll of paper towels and started walking back to the wet spot in the living room, then turned and smiled at his wife. “I am just so glad to be home.”
And two minutes later his clothes were in a pile on the bathroom floor. They would have to be put on the back porch until after Christmas. No time to clean them up now or tomorrow. He needed a shower. He needed to be back with his family. But first, for some reason he needed to make a phone call. Just standing there in his underwear, a little chilled, but warm in the heart he picked up the phone and dialed. Four rings and then the machine clicked on. He wasn’t surprised. He would just leave a message. “Hey, Doug. It’s me, Jasen.” He was surprised at how even his voice was. Just like nothing had happened. In fact, he sounded almost cheerful. “I just wanted to call and tell you that I’m okay – with everything. I know this couldn’t have been your fault. You have always been so good to me. Heck, you hired me when I didn’t even know anything and gave me a chance, and I have always been grateful for that. Don’t worry about me, Doug. You’ve taught me well and now I think I can get a job anywhere. Someone will want to hire me. I know it. I’ll be in just like normal the day after Christmas, and we can talk. I have to get my things and now I want to say hi to everyone. Have a merry Christmas, Doug.” From down the hall he heard the commotion of Christmas and smelt the ham and the slightly burnt gravy. “Hurry, daddy!” Just 130 minutes ago, he thought his life was ruined. Now he knew the best part was still there. He turned and hopped in the shower.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Rapid City Adventure - the Journey Home
November 29, 2008
(This is the last of a series of four posts.)
We decided to drive home another way. We looked at a few more things in Rapid City, but the chapel in the woods was "closed for the season". That was a little sad, because all of the pictures we saw of it looked real neat. We did drive by a children's park and got attacked by a flock of ducks.
We drove over to Hill City. I think if we had "known" about Hill City, we should have booked our last night there. It was a quaint little place with more personality that the average tourist town.
Then after Custer we headed west to Newcastle (through the only snow we saw for the whole weekend), then south to home. We did stop and had "a date" and went to Sam's - what else is there to do on a date when your whole life is turning into a date.
This was a grand weekend - despite the elk. (If you want to hear about the whole weekend - read the previous three posts.)
(This is the last of a series of four posts.)
Woke up, relaxed, packed up and checked out of the motel. There were some things we learned over the last three days. First, we wanted to go back to Horsethief Lake. Second, there were closed roads in the Black Hills. Third, we hadn't seen even a fraction of what there was to see. Fourth, we didn't want to drive home after dark. And most importantly, we really like each other and like being together.
We decided to drive home another way. We looked at a few more things in Rapid City, but the chapel in the woods was "closed for the season". That was a little sad, because all of the pictures we saw of it looked real neat. We did drive by a children's park and got attacked by a flock of ducks.
We drove over to Hill City. I think if we had "known" about Hill City, we should have booked our last night there. It was a quaint little place with more personality that the average tourist town.
We then drove another path down to Custer. We went by way of the Sylvan Lake highway. It had another entrance onto the Needles Highway, but we knew from experience that it was closed for the winter. Still, the Sylvan Lake Highway had some incredible views - Mt. Harney, the highest point between the Rocky Mountains and the Alps - and a "tunnel", basically just a hole in the rock for one car to maneuver through.
Then after Custer we headed west to Newcastle (through the only snow we saw for the whole weekend), then south to home. We did stop and had "a date" and went to Sam's - what else is there to do on a date when your whole life is turning into a date.
This was a grand weekend - despite the elk. (If you want to hear about the whole weekend - read the previous three posts.)
Rapid City Adventure - Friday in the Black Hills
November 28, 2008
We then went down to Custer, South Dakota, and tried another path to get to The Needles highway. Alas, it was closed six miles in, but we saw some more beautiful country. One place was called "Hole in the Wall".
It was a fun, laid back kind of day. We got up and checked out of the motel. We then drove into the Black Hills. Our goal was to drive the Iron Mountain Road and the Needles Highway to get to the Crazy Horse Memorial. We found out about 1 mile down Iron Mountain Road that it was a bad idea - cause the road was closed for the winter. Alas, we had to back track and drive a more tame highway over to Crazy Horse. On the way, we stopped at the "profile view" of Mount Rushmore and then a little further on we stopped at a little lake - Horsethief Lake (more about that later).
We liked the Crazy Horse Memorial. We went into the Visitors Center and looked at all of the exhibits and watched the movie and generally found out about it. It is much different from Mount Rushmore. There are no government funds being used and the pace of work is a lot slower. It was actually commissioned by the local Native American tribes. For a long time, there was only one man working on it. And in the end, it will be so much bigger than Mount Rushmore. It will be the biggest carved monument in the world. But the end is not in sight. Still it is a beautiful place to be.
This is the Nature Gate at the Crazy Horse Memorial. See if you can find - dinosaurs.
We then went down to Custer, South Dakota, and tried another path to get to The Needles highway. Alas, it was closed six miles in, but we saw some more beautiful country. One place was called "Hole in the Wall".
Our trip back to Rapid City took us through Custer State Park, were we had a number of sightings. Then we checked into a new motel and went out and did a little bit of Christmas shopping. These are pictures of the inside atrium of the motel from the fifth floor - a bit more fancy than the other motel. Thank heavens for off season prices.
Speaking of sightings:
We saw herds - I mean flocks - of wild turkeys. The question is, why doesn't Colorado have any herds of wild turkeys?
We saw our first ever wild big horn sheep in the wild. They were just grazing on the yummy green grass at a ranger station. There were two bucks. Mar's pictures look like she got them fighting, but really they were just playing, but we did their horns crack.
We saw buffalo - sorry - bison. We had almost given up on seeing any of them, then there was a herd - really a herd this time. We sat and watched them as the crossed the road, hung up traffic and then went to graze - in a children's playground. They are magestic animals.
We saw skunks, and a lynx, and a moose and a rattle snake.
Oh, sorry about that - that was just a trip to Cabelas. We also saw bears - but that was as we drove past Bear Country USA.
Now this part is going to sound strange. It is our experience at Horsethief Lake.
When we stopped at Horsethief Lake, I got out of the car to just take a picture. As I did, I heard something across the lake. It was an animal sound - or not. Then I heard it again - no it was different - I almost thought it might be a turkey - but no - that was not right. I told Mar to turn off the car and come listen. We stood there by the side of that frozen lake and listened. It sounded like sonar - no not that mechanical. It sounded organic - but not really. It sounded like a flexed saw - but not that rough. It was mysterious and mystical and mythical and totally indescribable. And sometimes it came from there and sometimes it came from somewhere else. And it never sounded the same, as if something was having a conversation in a beautiful foreign tongue. And just as we figured out what it was, a moan came more intense and loud and long - enough so that Mar grabbed my arm from fright or startlement or surprise (I had fright and statement and surprise also) - it was a big, deep echoing whisper or sigh or moan or song from over the lake. In older days I could see people thinking it was the Spirits of the dead who make the Black Hills sacred. It was for us, a sublime moment in our lives. We had never heard anything like it - but I dearly want to hear it again. (We went back again on Saturday - but the Spirits were gone - mostly.) Do you think you know what it was? It was - - -
The ice. We talked to an ice fisherman and he said that when ice is new and not too thick, it sings as it freezes. Ice expands as it freezes and the pressure makes vibrations that sound other-worldish. Mar and I got there just as the conditions were perfect. By the next day, with another night of freezing, the ice was too thick. I don't ever want to forget that, and next year, when the lakes start to freeze, I will spend time waiting for the ice to sing. Waiting for the Spirits to speak.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Rapid City Adventure - Thanksgiving Day
November 27, 2008
Now for vacation news. We woke up and spent the morning in the Black Hills. It is a place that the Native Americans thought was spiritual. They called it the Black Hills because from the plains, the pines made the hills dark.
We drove through a little town called Keystones. It is kinda like Estes Park. It is the gateway to Mount Rushmore. There are tunnels through the granite mountains. This one is right outside of Keystone.
Okay - lets get the hard question out of the way first. Yes, they do have Thanksgiving in South Dakota. In fact, we got to our motel room and there was a sign there that said the motel was providing a complimentary Thanksgiving dinner for all of their guest. Well, we were supposed to check out this morning and go to another motel this evening, but we went down and checked in for an extra day. So we had Thanksgiving dinner just fine. And then we got back this evening and asked them if there were any leftovers, and they said yes, so we got leftovers too. So don't worry about our Thanksgiving. Here is a picture of the GrandStay Motel - which happens to be the newest motel in Rapid City. Also, a couple of Rapid City pictures.
Now for vacation news. We woke up and spent the morning in the Black Hills. It is a place that the Native Americans thought was spiritual. They called it the Black Hills because from the plains, the pines made the hills dark.
We drove through a little town called Keystones. It is kinda like Estes Park. It is the gateway to Mount Rushmore. There are tunnels through the granite mountains. This one is right outside of Keystone.
Our main destination was Mt. Rushmore which is only about a half-hour from Rapid City. Yep, we did the real tourist thing. We got a recorded tour and went to a movie about it and walked through the museum and walked the presidential walk. It was very cool. It was a little bit chilly but the sky was crystal clear blue. Here are six questions. Do you know the answers?
Why is it called Mount Rushmore?
Why did he choose Washington?
Why did he choose Jefferson?
Why did he choose Roosevelt?
Why did he choose Lincoln?
How many people got killed making the statues?
Cool isn't really the right word . . .
Better words might be inspiring, memorial, magestic, beautiful, spectacular, awesome . . .
It makes you proud to have seen it.
By the way - one of the things we are really thankful for is Mar's knees. The trail we walked was about .6 miles and it was posted as "strenuous". There were lots of stairs. Here is a little sample.
We went to a movie in the afternoon - Australia. We liked it, but you will have to wait for my movie review.
And finally - the sightings:
We saw mountain goats. They were at Mount Rushmore. Actually, there are 6 of them. They are escapees from Custer State Park and went a few miles north and just made their home at Mount Rushmore. They care not at all about the people around.
We saw deer. There were some of them at Mount Rushmore also, but the impressive ones we saw as we were just driving around in the country north of Rapid City.
We saw wild turkeys - yep - wild turkeys on Thanksgiving Day. We told them to run and hide, but they just walked on down the road.
And we saw Santa Clause. He was at our Thanksgiving dinner. He was perfect. He had on a red shirt and red suspenders. He had snow white hair down to his collar and a snow white, curly beard.
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