Christmas in New England by Jonah
This is a work of fiction so be aware that every character herein is also fictitious. If you think you recognise yourself, or somebody else in here - you don't. Some places, and some institutions in here are real, but the people attached to those institutions in the story are not. Most characters are my own creations, but some are the creations of another author. I want to thank Jacob Lion, in the USA, for his permission to use his characters in my stories.
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Chapter 9
Considering the late hour of our retiring we were awake surprisingly early on Christmas morning.
Yori had prepared breakfast for us and we had three excited boys amongst us. Nobody was going to be allowed to oversleep. Yori suggested that, in the interest of peace and quiet, we open the presents that were under the tree. Naturally, none of the boys wanted to do that - much. There was, however, another issue to attend to first. It was necessary to impress upon our boys that, while they normally slept in the altogether, it was not necessary for Yori to see them like that. Garret caught them on the landing and drove them back to their room, whereupon he expressed to them, fairly forcibly, that nobody would be opening presents who was not showered and dressed ready for Church.
Breakfast and juice were ready when three immaculate boys nervously crept down the stairs. Garret congratulated them, wished them a Merry Christmas, then ushered them to the table. No more nervousness - just excited chatter.
Yori wore his usual inscrutable expression, but I think I'd just learned to scrute it. The deadpan glare was still there, but his eyes shone with something that could only be pleasure. Inside I felt a warm glow that told me that bringing the old man's grandchildren to see him was exactly the right thing to do.
Breakfast consumed, we assembled under the boughs of the huge spruce tree. Yori claimed the priviledge of handing out parcels to those to whom they were addressed. We scotched on the floor and tore off layers of Christmas wrapping paper. There were oohs and ahhhs and squeals of delight, and Yori appeared less inscrutable by the minute. At last all had been opened - all that was going to be. There were still a few parcels left but Yori declined to talk about those.
At ten o' clock Yori ordered coats on and told the youngsters to each choose one of their presents to take to Church with them. The boys did that and we all piled into Yori's car.
The snow lay crisp and even but, fortunately, not deep - a matter of about a couple of inches. With a broom Yori cleared the windows of snow then started the engine. We rolled off of the drive and headed slowly for Baptists Corner Road.
The tree was still lit but, inside the Church, electric lighting had replaced the candles from the night before. All was light and the building was heaving with people. The sound of excited young voices was only stilled when the organ struck up a fanfare to announce the pastor's presence in the pulpit. Obviously this was not pre-planned. The organist had yielded to a sudden inspiration to silence the childish chatter, and the pastor looked amused.
He urged us to sing, "Come and join the Celebration", We lifted the roof. "I heard the bells on Christmas Day", that was a new one on me. "Silent Night", followed by "Hark the Herald Angels Sing".
The pastor talked to us of the Christmas presents that we had received, and invited the children to show off their presents. He spoke of the love that went with those presents. Then he spoke of God's present to humankind and of the love that went with that. My mind went back almost twenty years to the Chrismas before our first visit to America. That was the Christmas that we first met Jake and his family. It was also the Christmas when Joe and Miriam came into our lives. The Christmas when Peter and I, not to mention Kori and Liam, were awakened on Christmas morning to be told that a child had been born in the night. I was back in the present as the pastor announced the last hymn. "Unto us a boy is born - King of all creation" we sang lustily. With a Christmas blessing, we were dismissed, and more Merry Christmasses were exchanged by the departing congregation.
We piled back into Yori's car, but we didn't go straight to his house. We turned the other way and found ourselves at the very trailer park where Christopher had once lived with his mother. Yori got out and headed for the nearest trailer. If I didn't know better I would have sworn it was the same one that Joan and Chris had lived in. Before Yori could knock the door swung open and a man appeared, wrapped up against the cold. In his wake came a small boy - probably of about six, or a small seven. They closed up the trailer and followed Yori back to the car. I pulled Philip onto my lap to make room and the man climbed in and sat the boy on his own lap. In this fashion we retraced our tyre tracks and drove back to Yori's home.
Only when we were back in the warm and unwrapped did Yori introduce Sam, a curly haired man only a year or two short of my own age, and his son Silas. That introduction made, Yori put on the kettle and produced more juice for all four boys.
Silas was fascinated by the tall Christmas tree and it didn't take Yori long to divert himself from his cooking and point out to Silas that there were presents underneath it. In two shakes of a reindeer's tail, Yori had supervised the little mite in opening three presents and had given a parcel to his father. Since one of Silas' presents was a colouring book and crayons, Lloyd was instantly in charge of him and masterpieces had to be produced.
Yori, although Japanese, had lived in the USA a long time, and had in any case, done his homework prior to our visit. He knew how to cook a turkey, and to stuff it with roast chestnuts. He knew how to wrap the bird in bacon rashers first. He knew how to roast potatoes and how to mash same. Brussells sprouts, carrots and green beans are not Japanese specialities either, but Yori had mastered them. The man had even graduated in plum pudding and brandy sauce. We ate until we were fit to bust, and a few plastic containers were filled for Sam to take home as well.
After dinner the boys were all upstairs to play. Garret and Sam were asleep, leaving only Yori and myself. That was when Yori explained that Silas' mother had died last Winter, making it impossible for Sam to work for a living. He had done his best, but his landlord had evicted him. He and Silas had been living in a tent in the woods surrounding Ashfield for a week or two when Yori had spied Silas begging in a lay-by. He had investigated and promptly fetched food and warm bedding. He had then approached the pastor, and some of the church ladies had formed a washing rota, so that some sort of hygiene could be established.
Joan Plover still owned the trailer so Yori and Chris had cleaned and painted it and the small family had been moved in. They were still largely dependant on charity for food, but Yori, with the help of some people from the Church made sure they didn't starve. In return, two days a week Sam helped Yori with odd jobs. On those two days, Chris would bring his mother into Ashfield where she had made a start on Silas' education.
Afternoon tea was something for which Yori didn't have to research. Rice and fish dishes were set out for us to help ourselves, and a chocolate cake, which I didn't think Yori had baked himself (it later transpired that one of the ladies from the Church had insisted on making a contribution).
As soon as everybody was full, Barry nominated himself as the chief entertainment. Once more the Oxford Book of Carols was dredged out from the piano stool. A lot of Wassailing happened. All three boys assumed the characters of the three Kings. The Twelve days of Christmas were celebrated, followed by Good King Wenceslas. It was noticeable that, in deference to Sam and Silas, Barry was avoiding the more obscure carols. Of course, there are still traps in the Oxford book. He attempted to play "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. In truth he actually DID play it, but found out the hard way that it wasn't a tune that any of us recognised - those Victorians again - they just had to be different.
It was time for Sam and Silas to depart, but the snow was falling fast and another two or three inches lay on the ground.
"You stay," said Yori. "We make up beds"
Well there would be no difficulty about Silas fitting in with our boys and Yori set up a camp bed in the music room for Sam. The man retired almost immediately. Garret, Yori and I sat in the drawing room and drank sherry - yes sherry. Don't ask.
"How long before Silas needs to be in mainstream schooling?" asked Garret.
"Joan private tutor for now," replied his father. "We register him when he is ready for proper school."
"Meanwhile Sam only has part-time work."
"For now," Yori replied. "Trailer no good to them long term. I get extension built out back for them to live in. Then Sam can work here full time. Your father is getting older Garret. Need more than two days a week".
"Can you afford to do that?"
"You worry I spend your inheritance?"
"I'd sooner have my father alive and no money than have money and no father," Garret replied. "I only asked because I'm certain you've thought all this through, and I can't wait to hear the rest of it".
"Liam," said Yori. "Liam wants to start a home for homeless children - like he was. He doesn't yet know what he wants to do, but is something along those lines. He needs somewhere to do it and when he knows what he wants to do, I let him use this place - if it is suitable for him. He is helping Chris build extension. We cannot work out details until Liam knows for certain. Need to wait until twins are a bit older anyway".
"So there's no fixed plan yet."
"Liam needs to finish university first."
"Wait a minute - who's paying for him to do that?"
"Jake - he was left money for that."
Garret smiled.
"Sounds like you've got it all worked out," he said.
"It does," I agreed. "Now I, for one, would like to try to get to bed before Boxing Day."
"Boxing Day," said Yori. "You not find any Boxing Day in America".
"He's right," said Garret. "There isn't any such day here."
"Either way - good night!" I said.
I tiptoed into the boys' room.
All four were in the double bed - two at each end. Next to Barry rested the golden curls of Silas, looking even more like an angel than Philip usually did. To me they were all angels. I kissed each boy on the forehead and, with a whispered "Goodnight" tiptoed out. I don't think it was yet midnight when Garret slipped into bed behind me.
"Goodnight", we whispered, almost simultaneously.