This is the last part of the Christmas Story. I hope everyone is enjoyed this story.
Part Three -- Continued
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“Who would… ? Oh, who would leave a tree and … What are these boxes here?”
Elizabeth set the tree inside then looked in one of the boxes: “Decorations…!”
Ray watched with a sense of satisfaction as Liz and the children took the boxes inside. He hoped she would not see the tracks in the snow. Once the door was closed he walked back to his truck driving it across the street to his house. Making himself a mug of herbal tea with honey Ray returned to his work. He sat in the study watching out the window, he could see Elizabeth and the children through the front window set up the tree and begin decorating it with the lights and ornaments.
An hour and a half later, well past bedtime for the children, Liz sat on the sofa holding Michael and Tina, the room’s lights were off as they stared at the brightly lighted tree that shone out the picture window that was framed with tiny colored lights, tinsel and other decorations. It was all Liz could do not to want to start crying again as she recalled the early years she and her late husband enjoyed Christmas with the children gathered around a small Christmas tree on Christmas morning, the children tearing in to the wrappings to see what the colored paper and ribbons hid from view for so many days before.
Ray finished another mug of tea. Setting the mug on the side of the desk, he watched as the lights were finally turned off across the street. He supposed that Liz was finally putting Michael and Tina to bed. Returning to his work, he said in a droll tone: “Well that was my good deed for the year – I suppose.”
VI.
The next morning Ray sat at his workstation on the second floor of Continental Tech-Ware staring out the window across the isle from his cubicle. He stared with intense concentration at an open field that was still covered by deep snow despite two days of mild weather; ice clung to the adjacent buildings in the complex where snow had melted in the late noon and froze in the evening.
A hand was waved in front of his face. Raymond looked up with a frown at the person waving his hand in front of his face.
“I was about to go get a mirror to see if you were still alive,” said the other.
“Oh, yeah, hi, Mark.” Ray turned the chair back around to face the display screen.
“Problem?” Mark asked, gesturing to the display screen, a screen saver swirling around on the screen.
“Yeah, do you know anything about any of the toys for tot’s gift charities?” Ray asked looking up at Mark, meeting the other’s incredulous look.
“Excuse me?” said Mark straightening up a skeptical smile tugging at the
corners of his mouth. “The company’s resident Scrooge – toys for kids no-less?”
“Skip the paradox, Mark, I’m serious. Couple kids down the street – single Mom, widowed, just barely eking out a living for herself and the kids – She’s lucky to keep the lights on and heat in the house, let alone gas in her car; and at the current extortionist prices for gas no-less.”
Mark drummed his fingers on the top edge of the partition a moment. “Boy – girl? How old?”
Mark Drummond, his non-de-plume, the “Company Miracle Worker”, an hour later came up with some information for Raymond. Raymond was on the phone that afternoon making arrangements with the organization to deliver the toys to his house a couple days before Christmas Eve evening.
The next two days Raymond was as much in anticipation of Christmas as the
children in the neighborhood.
Raymond parked on the street and got in the house just ahead of the van arriving from the agency. Ray opened the garage door and had the driver back the van in to the garage. A few minutes later the driver pulled the big box stuffed with wrapped presents out of the van to a hand-truck Ray had.
“So playing Santa Claus, huh?” The driver, a retired executive and agency volunteer chuckled as they wheeled the heavy box to the back of the garage.
Raymond tried not to frown at the comment. “No. Just a couple kids down the street need something in their lives this Christmas beside misery.”
White wreathes of breath veiled their faces as Ray signed for the box of gifts.
The driver looked in the direction that Ray indicated. “Oh, single Mom, huh?”
“Yeah, widow. Barely keeping it together for them.”
Closing the garage door, he carefully laid an old blanket over the box. Staring down at the box a moment, he mused: What satisfaction am I getting from all this drama? Damned if I even understand why I’m doing this in the first place.
VII.
The week of Christmas Eve Ray left work early; on a whim, he made a not-so-quick stop at a specialty shop to buy two small but special items. He decided he wanted to do something special, especially since Elizabeth had been on his mind much of the past couple weeks; he stopped at the shopping center where he bought the tree; there was a small gift and jewelry store.
The lady behind the counter in the shop was all smiles prattling on about the types of necklaces, bracelets and other things that women like as gifts for Christmas. Ray ignored the chatter as he finally made his selection and had the gifts wrapped and headed home.
It was the next afternoon he managed to get two gift labels from one of the women in the team who was wrapping last minute gifts during lunch for her husband.
“Don’t ask, Marcy – you don’t want to know.”
“My God, Scrooge? Since when did you get feelie-fuzzy all of a sudden?” Looking over the top of her cubicle Marcy turned to another co-worker, she pointed at Ray with a smirk.
That evening Ray included the two small gifts for Liz that set on top of the pile with her name on tags that were done on a typewriter.
“Count down to the big C-Day,” he mused staring out the window of his study at Elizabeth’s house wondering what she was doing. The tree was light up brightening the front of the house. “A small token of what I suppose can be called joy or happiness.”
Christmas Eve night Ray nervously paced the living room as he waited for Mid-Night and his chance to take the box of presents across the street. A short time before that, just after he got home, by way of the supermarket Ray bought one of the last turkeys.
“Probably the biggest meal those kids have had since Thanksgiving…”
Ray emptied the box out of all the gifts and placed the sizable turkey, canned
foods and other things in the bottom, then repacked the box.
Finally, it was quarter to mid-night, Ray turned out the lights in the living room pulled on his heavy leather Air Force jacket, hat, and pilot’s gloves then went out to the garage. Opening the garage door, a blast of frigid air filled the garage. Ray looked at the house across the street. Only the Christmas tree lights, the lights in the windows and around the door shone reflecting softly off the snow in the front yard.
“Feel like I’m about to start some major operation here,” he said letting go of the door letting it slid up on the rails. Finding the two-wheeler, he took the blanket off the box, slipped the tongue of the hand truck under box and started out of the garage past the pickup and down the driveway watching for any of his neighbors who just might be outside at that hour for whatever reason: the neighborhood was darkened except for a few Christmas lawn decorations still illuminated.
The wheels crunching on ice and frozen slush, he pushed the hand truck across the street and up to the sidewalk. He reached the walkway to the front door. Drawing in a breath of cold air, Ray pushed the hand truck up to the door. Trying to keep from making too much commotion, Ray tried to get the hand truck up on to the small stoop. In doing so, he backed in to the doorbell. The doorbell chimed, the series of chimes sounded loud and clear.
“Oh no…!” he groaned knowing what was about to happen next.
In his panic and haste to pull the hand truck out from the box, Ray tripped and fell with the hand truck in to the snow beside the door.
Ray cutting a sharp exclamation short he tumbled in to a juniper and into the snow. Scrambling to his feet just as the door opened, Ray stood up, covered with snow; he met the shocked look of Elizabeth as she threw her hands to her face.
“Oh!” She slowly turned her stunned gaze from Raymond covered in snow, standing ankle deep in it still holding on to the hand truck, to the box by front of the door. “Mr. Butler…!”
“Um, yeah hi, Liz – Merry Christmas…” It was the first time in eight years that he had not said Merry Christmas and anything else in the same breath without a sarcastic comment added.
Elizabeth looked down at the box, then again at Raymond. “It was you … Mr. Butler.”
“Um, yeah … busted, I suppose, eh?” Ray allowed a half way smile as he stepped back to the walkway dragging the hand truck behind him.
Elizabeth nodded her head as she pushed the door open. “Come on in before you catch your death of cold or worse…”
She held the door open as Ray dusted the snow off himself. Stepping up on to the stoop he boosted the heavy box through the door in to the living room. It was the first time he had been in the house. Hers was one of the older homes on the block. His gaze went to the floor. It was bare hardwood, no carpet or large rugs – then, he surmised that was normal interior decor for this area in the late sixties. He wiped the steam off his glasses then shoved the box toward the Christmas tree.
Elizabeth closed the door behind him and walked around to the box, curious as to what Raymond had carried over in the box. She’d heard from a couple neighbors he was the annual neighborhood “Scrooge” and not very hospitable this time of year.
“Christmas to Raymond Butler,” said Liz’s neighbor after Thanksgiving, “I tell you, Elizabeth Christmas to Ray Butler is the same as a nasty word. The man has nothing nice to say about the holidays this time of year.”
Elizabeth stared at the box a moment wondering what Ray had in it. Toys for the children was one thing, but what else would there be?
Ray made a quick survey of the living room. There was little that was evident that a woman displays to make a house a home: a threadbare sofa, a couple chairs, an end table, lamp and a single old television on an inexpensive metal stand. A few pictures hung on the living room wall near the door to the kitchen. The wall was covered with a poorly laid out dark maple shaded wall paneling that appeared to be pulling away from the wall. Then he glanced at the woman a minute, their eyes met again taking each other in in a sweep of the eyes.
Ray averted his gaze from Elizabeth as he pulled the gloves off and pulled the heavy zipper down from the jacket. He stood beside the box watching Liz’s reaction as she stared at the box full of gifts.
Liz reached down to the two small packages setting on top. She looked at the labels then the labels on the other packages. The others were simply marked – boy or girl, the two small ones had her name typed on them. Picking up the packages she stared in quiet disbelief at the delicate bows, the colored paper and slight weight of each. Lifting her questioning gaze back to Raymond standing in front of her quietly watching her mixed reaction to the gifts he pulled the gloves back on his hands. After a moment he turned to leave.
“Ray…?” She began, stopping him. It was the first time that she had used his
first name. It was always “Mr. Butler.” He glanced back at Elizabeth for a moment as they met brief silent gazes. Elizabeth clutched the two packages to her chest said in a half whisper: “Thank you … Ray.”
Nodding his head Ray started for the door. Liz softly called out to him an edge of pleading to her voice. In that brief moment Ray saw the pleading eyes of a lonely woman desperate for something more to her life: “Ray…” He stopped with one hand grasping the doorknob. She said, a catch in her throat: “You … you don’t have to go. Please stay a moment.”
Ray met the calm shy smile of Liz as she turned to walk to the kitchen clutching the two small packages. Shrugging the gloves, and hat, and heavy leather jacket off he lay them on a chair beside the door. He followed her to the kitchen to sit at the kitchen table in one of the four mismatched kitchen chairs at the small old style enamel top table.
Elizabeth sat opposite him clutching the two small packages. They were quiet for a moment then she said: “I only have tea. Would you like a cup?”
Ray smiled. “Yes, thank you.”
He watched as she stood, not letting go of the two small boxes to fill a heavily tarnished copper teapot with water. She took two large cups from the cupboard. Ray did not look at the cupboard, he could see that Elizabeth lacked those things in her life that a woman enjoys and gives her pleasure.
Finally he said standing: “Tell ya what, Liz, while the water is boiling I’ll unload the box.”
She followed him to the living room. She sat in the old chair that faced the television to watch as Ray unpacked the box carefully laying the gifts under the tree. When he reached the bottom and the food, he stopped. The food was to be a surprise for her too. Lifting the thawing turkey from the box, he turned to her and said: “Merry Christmas, Liz.”
Elizabeth looked up at him with tears in her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her. Their lips met in a passionate kiss. They exchanged soft “I love you…” the first words that melted away the agonies of Christmases past and Christmases lost from their lives.
The squealing voices of Michael and Tina startled them: “Look, stuff under the tree!”
At that moment too the teapot whistled that the water was boiling.
“Merry Christmas…!”
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