David Fleming - The Saturday Boy

“Oh, threw down. Of course. My bad,” said Aunt Josie. “Are you okay? Do you want some meat for it?”

“Meat for what?”

“Your eye.”

“Ew, no! Why would I want—how would I—no. No thanks.”

“I think it’s already done all the swelling it’s going to do,” Mom said. “Does it hurt when I do this?”

“ Ow! What are you doing? Don’t touch it!”

I jumped up from my seat and ran away a little, holding my hand over my eye for protection. Maybe it would be a good idea to get an eye patch. That way I’d have both hands free to defend myself.

“Sorry, sweetie!” Mom said. “I just wanted to feel if anything was broken. I am a nurse, remember?”

“Nothing’s broken! It was fine until you started messing with it.”

“How’s your tongue?”

“What happened to his tongue?”

“He bit it.”

“Now my mouth tastes like pennies,” I said. “Also look!”

I wiggled the loose tooth with my tongue.

“Oh my God!” said Aunt Josie, cringing. “When did all this happen?”

“During act one. It’s a baby tooth—see?”

I pulled my lip down and really wiggled it. Aunt Josie made a face and waved her hands like they were covered in spiders.

“Augh! Stop it!” she squealed. “Stopitstopitstopit!”

“What?”

“Loose teeth freak me out.”

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t know. They just give me the willies,” she said, shuddering. “So please—for me—could you stop? Or am I going to have to turn my eyelids inside out?”

I stopped, immediately understanding what she was talking about. Loose teeth were one thing but turning your eyelids inside out? Now that was gross.

I helped Mom set the table. I put the plates out. I poured the milk. I even remembered which side the fork went on. Aunt Josie had made potatoes au gratin and green beans to go with the roast. I normally didn’t like green beans but Aunt Josie had put crumbled-up bacon in them so they were okay. Sort of like the way broccoli was gross unless it was smothered in cheese. I wondered if the secret to cooking was just adding stuff you liked to stuff you didn’t like.

Aunt Josie got the roast out of the oven and sliced pieces of it onto a plate and brought the plate to the table. Mom brought over the beans and potatoes and we all sat down. Nobody moved for a minute. Nobody said anything either. A big quiet dropped over the table like a blanket. Dad’s chair had never seemed emptier.

“Have some wine with me, Jo?” Mom said.

She got up from the table and got a bottle from the rack. Then she dug through a drawer until she found a corkscrew and opened the bottle with it. She got two wine glasses from the cupboard, gave them a quick rinse, and brought them and the bottle back to the table.

I ate my dinner. Mom and Aunt Josie put food on their plates, too, but by the time I’d finished eating they’d barely started and I’d even had a second helping of potatoes. Nobody was really saying anything and the quiet was starting to drive me nuts.

“Do you think Santa will come this year?”

“Why wouldn’t he? You’ve been good, haven’t you?”

It felt like a trick question.

“I’ve been pretty good.”

“I would say you’ve been very good, Derek,” said Mom. “It’s been tough and you’ve handled yourself well and I’m proud of you. You might not always use the good sense that God gave you but you are only eleven years old and sometimes eleven-year-olds just don’t act the way you’d like them to.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“ But ,” said Mom, holding up a finger, “your heart’s in the right place, Derek. You’re a good kid—a great kid. I can see it. Your aunt Josie can see it. Ms. Dickson can see it. And I’m pretty sure Santa can see it, too.”

“When do you think he stops watching?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s got to load the sleigh and stuff.”

“Are you worried he saw what happened today?”

“Yes.”

“I hate to tell you this, Piggy, but he probably did. Don’t freak out, though—Santa takes the whole year into consideration and not just the month between Thanksgiving and Christmas,” said Mom. “And he doesn’t load the sleigh, anyway—the elves do. It’s a union thing.”

I guess I knew that, too. I mean, I’d seen a lot of Christmas movies and it seemed like the elves did most of the work and Santa just stood around eating cookies and taking all the credit.

After dinner we decorated the tree. We strung lights all around it and hung ornaments from the branches and I got to stand on a chair and put the angel on top. When we were done decorating Aunt Josie turned the room lights off and the tree lights on and we all sat on the couch and looked at them for a while in silence. Snow was falling outside the windows and I was glad to be inside, safe and warm, snuggled between Mom and Aunt Josie. I could have stayed like that forever.

“What time is it?” I mumbled, feeling all fuzzy-headed and sleepy.

“Hm?”

Mom sounded like she was half-asleep. Aunt Josie was out completely. Her head was leaned back and her mouth was open and she was snoring.

“Time?”

“Hm? Oh… oh shoot! How’d it get to be nine thirty already?” she said, pushing herself up off the couch. “C’mon, c’mon. Let’s brush teeth.”

I rubbed my good eye, scratched my head, and yawned. Then I rose slowly and zombied through the kitchen and up the stairs to the bathroom. Mom had put my toothbrush on the sink for me. She was in her bedroom, probably putting her pajamas on.

“Where’s the toothpaste?”

“Next to your toothbrush.”

“Where’s my toothpaste?”

“Just use mine.”

“I like mine better,” I said. “Mine tastes like bubblegum.”

“Please use mine.”

“I’ll just use the mouthwash instead.”

“Derek, don’t—wait! Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“It sounded like an elf! Hurry! Brush your teeth and get in bed! Quick!”

I grabbed Mom’s toothpaste, squeezed some onto my brush, and started brushing. It tasted awful. Thankfully, it wasn’t in my mouth very long because I only brushed once in each direction before spitting it out. Then I ran down the hallway and into bed, kissing Mom good night as the quilt was still settling around me.

“Derek?”

“Yes?”

“Did you turn the water off?”

“Um… yes?” I said, pulling the quilt over my head.

“Derek.”

“I forgot. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry I’ll get it,” Mom said. “Good night, sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” I fell asleep a little while later, listening hard for Santa’s reconnaissance elves.

ON CHRISTMAS MORNING,I got out of bed, put on a sweatshirt and slippers, and snuck downstairs, careful not to wake Mom because it was still a little earlier than she would have liked. I peered around the doorway into the living room and in the dim light coming through the window could see Aunt Josie was asleep on the pullout with one of those mask thingies over her eyes. Which meant I could plug in the tree without waking her. So I did.

I could see my stocking hanging from the mantel. It reminded me of something I saw on Adventure Kids once where they showed a python swallowing a goat, only instead of a leg sticking out of it there were candy canes, which was just as cool but in a totally different way.