J Stanley - The Battered Body

“I know. My lips are peeling off like pieces of old wallpaper. Still, I do hope we get some snow!” Lindy Perez, the cheerful high school art teacher, declared. “Everything’s so beautiful when it’s covered by a fresh layer of pure white.” She stretched her short arms out in front of her. “Reminds me of the feeling I get whenever I stare at a new canvas or a block of fresh clay. I get all tingly all over just thinking about the possibilities.”

Gillian opened the front door of her large Victorian house and emerged onto the porch carrying a silver-plate tray loaded with a teapot and five pottery mugs. “Oh, it’s so dark already. The winter solstice is almost upon us, so I’ve made us some soul-warming herbal tea,” she announced, setting the heavy tray down on one of the wicker side tables. “Gather around and inhale this fragrance. While you sip, be grateful that we’re not looking at the winter as the famine months as our ancestors would have done.”

“When it comes to your teas, I might prefer goin’ without.” Bennett took the top off the teapot and sniffed. “Lord help us! What are you tryin’ to sneak down our throats, woman? Fresh mulch tea? Ugh!” He grunted as Gillian lifted the teapot and placed it directly beneath his nose. “This stuff smells like my backyard.”

“Excellent olfactory observation. I am so proud of you for activating your other senses!” Gillian replied. “This is pine needle tea. It’s very high in vitamin C and helps relieve congestion. You sound a bit stuffed up to me, Bennett. If you lack the confidence to experiment with a new taste, then I’ll give you some leaves to take home. You can take a nice pine needle tea bath and all your aching joints will be soothed. Isn’t nature incredible ?”

“How’d you know my joints were sore?” Bennett looked at Gillian in surprise.

“You know how intuitive I am,” Gillian stated. “When I was in my mid-twenties, I took yoga classes from a very spiritual woman. She told me that I was deeply in tune with my inner-”

“I brought something to warm us up too,” Lucy interrupted, gesturing at a large metal thermos resting on the porch floor. “Hot buttered rum. It’s a recipe my folks have used for years to make it through the cavalcade without turning into human ice sculptures. It’ll send a shot of heat right down your gullet and straight to your toes.”

“Now that’s more like it. Hit me with a cup of that brew.” Bennett pointed at the thermos. “Look there! I think our first vehicle is comin’ down the road.”

The five friends moved to the edge of Gillian’s porch and cheered at the sight of a Shenandoah County recycling truck.

The Christmas Cavalcade was established fifteen years prior in order to encourage hometown pride. Each of the Quincy’s Gap municipal departments decorated a vehicle of their choice with Christmas lights, garlands, ornaments, plastic statues, stuffed animals, and anything else they felt would spread holiday cheer. Members of each department hung out windows, sat inside trunks, or perched on top of the roof of their cars, trucks, vans, or buses in order to distribute goodies to the multitude of children who flocked to Quincy’s Gap in hopes of filling paper lunch bags with free holiday treats.

Gillian’s house was perfectly situated for viewing the cavalcade. She lived in the heart of the downtown historic area, and all the parade vehicles would begin their journey at the old courthouse, which was two blocks north of her three-story, pink and green home.

As usual, dozens of bystanders had set up folding chairs and portable heaters on the sidewalk in front of the house, for Gillian had always been gracious about allowing the spectators the use of both her lawn and her bathroom. One year, she had even baked Christmas cookies for the cavalcade observers, but most of her organic, gluten-free goodies had found their way into the storm drain at the corner. Out of kindness, one woman had told Gillian that the children got enough treats during the event and didn’t need any more sugar.

“We don’t want ’em to be spoiled,” she had said tactfully. “You don’t need to bake them anything when they’re gettin’ all this candy already. But thank you so much for bein’ so kind.”

Gillian restricted her cookie making to an even dozen, which she now shared among her friends. They all hated the cookies, but were unwilling to offend their hostess by leaving them uneaten. This year, however, James had a plan in place in order to avoid having to chew on a baked good that tasted remarkably like chalk. He took two cookies from Gillian’s multicultural holiday platter, which showed a rainbow of children’s faces around the border and a dove carrying a holly branch in the center, and stuffed them into a snack-sized plastic bag that he had placed in his coat pocket earlier that evening.

James thought that he had slipped the cookies into his jacket undetected, but Lucy sidled up to him and said, “Smooth move. Got room for mine?” She unfolded her fist in order to reveal a pair of crumbling cookies resembling a blend of Milkbone biscuits and cow dung.

“Sure. Come closer and drop them into my pocket. I’ll throw them out at home later on.”

“Like I said. Smooth move. This is just your way of getting me near you,” Lucy teased. “But I’m glad you came prepared. You ever heard the term ‘meadow muffins’? That’s what Gillian’s cookies taste like.”

James laughed and then, as Lucy placed her hand in his coat pocket, grew serious. “Actually,” he whispered, “I did want to talk to you about, ah, the two of us starting over.” He leaned his head closer to hers as the garbage truck roared in front of the house. “I’d like to take you out on a date. Not like the dates we had before, ah, before…” he trailed off.

“Before I got crazy obsessed with Sullie and drove you into the arms of Murphy Alistair?” Lucy asked, her cornflower blue eyes glinting.

“Exactly.” James exhaled. “I know we’ve been taking it slow-that we’ve been working our way into trusting one another, et cetera. But I’m ready, Lucy, and I want to prove it to you.” He turned to her, blocking her view of the green pickup truck from the Shenandoah Parks Department, which carried an enormous fir tree decorated with garlands of red berries and strings of glowing pinecones.

“That’s wonderful to hear, James.” There was a smile in Lucy’s voice. “We should find a way to celebrate, because you know that I’ve been ready since this summer!”

“A celebration.” James repeated the word, reveling in the positive images it evoked. “That’s exactly what I want to talk to you about. I’d like to do something especially romantic. Not a simple dinner and a movie or watching TV at your house like we used to do. Something memorable, so that we’ll always remember how we began our fresh start.” He lowered his voice even further. “Lucy, I’d really like to take you on-”

“Hey!” Gillian exclaimed and poked James in the back. “They’re throwing seedlings strapped to teddy bears! I didn’t get one last year and I so wanted to plant a tree near the corner of my front porch.” She set down her teacup and, seeing that James didn’t share her enthusiasm, grabbed Bennett’s arm instead. “ Please , Bennett, can you catch me one? Hurry!” When Bennett nodded his agreement, she yelled, “The truck is going to pass us by!”

James turned away from Lucy in order to watch his friend sprint down the sidewalk as quickly as he could in a pair of heavy black boots. He shoved his way through the crowd and chased after the departing pickup, determined to get the attention of one of the men riding in the pickup’s bed.