The Christmas Portrait

by Phyllis Clark Nichols

  I was thinking she had gotten off to a bad start on her plans. Mama would never have gotten so out of sorts about a plastic Christmas tree.

  Then Granny changed the subject again. “Any news from John or Don?”

  My aunt said, “Nothing yet. I hope they find her soon. I can’t bear to think about that poor little girl out in the cold.”

  Granny and I had seconds. Lunch was so good, especially the potato salad, but Aunt Susannah Hope just kept pushing food around on her plate. I thought Chesler and I were just too much for her, and we had worn her out.

  After lunch, Granny Grace made an announcement. “We’re making PB and F before your aunt and I go upstairs to work on a project. And don’t you ask me any questions about this project. You kids know it’s getting close to Christmas.” Then she winked. Granny always winked when she was up to something.

  Chesler was getting whiny. “I don’t want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because I just had lunch.”

  Granny laughed. “No, we’re making PB and F, peppermint bark and fudge, not PB and Js.”

  Nobody made fudge like Granny. Everybody told her she could start a business with that candy. She made a thick layer of dark chocolate fudge, and on top, she put a layer of white chocolate with crushed peppermint candy.

  Now this was Aunt Susannah Hope’s kitchen, but when Granny was there, she was in charge. She started passing out orders again like the parade marshal. “Susannah Hope, get all the ingredients out for me and bring me the biggest, heaviest pot you got.” Granny was doing all the measuring and mixing. “Now, Kate, you stir when I put it all in the pot. Chesler, you and your aunt need to start breaking up the peppermint candy for the white chocolate.”

  Aunt Susannah put the peppermint candy pieces in a cloth bag and got the hammer and let Chesler go to work. He liked to hammer, and he was good at breaking things. Aunt Susannah Hope turned on the Christmas music, and Chesler hammered in rhythm to “Deck the Halls.” The scent of chocolate and peppermint filled the kitchen, making it smell more like Christmas instead of dried-up flowers.

  When the sugar and butter and chocolate and milk had boiled exactly eight minutes, I quit stirring and Granny Grace poured it out fast onto a pan and set it out on the back porch for a few minutes to cool. “Come here, Chesler. While the fudge is cooling, let’s melt the white chocolate. You pour in the peppermint candy and stir it.”

  When the white chocolate was ready, I brought the fudge in for Granny to pour the peppermint bark on top. Then I took it all back to the porch. Chesler stood at the window. Granny asked him, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m guarding the PB and F.”

  “Guarding the candy? What on earth for?”

  “Some bird or squirrel might try to get it.”

  “Birds and squirrels don’t like chocolate and peppermint. Now it would be another story if we put my sugarcoated peanuts out there.” Granny laughed at him.

  Chesler didn’t have much to worry about, but when he did worry, he worried about strange things. So he just kept standing there, his nose to the window. At least it kept him quiet for a while.

  The hardest part of making that PB and F was waiting for it to cool so Granny could cut the first piece. It didn’t take long because it was freezing outside. I thought about how fast that hot fudge cooled on the back porch, and then I thought about Laramie and how cold she might be wherever she was.

  Granny cut us a little piece of fudge from the corner. Aunt Susannah Hope didn’t want any. “Maybe I’ll eat some on Christmas day. You know, I can’t remember a Christmas without Granny’s fudge.”

  “Me, either,” Chesler piped in.

  “That’s right, all five Christmases of your life. Now listen to me, you two,” Granny Grace said. “If you behave while Aunt Susannah and I work on the project upstairs, I’ll slice up some so you can take it home with you tonight.”

  My aunt put on a Christmas movie for us to watch. It wasn’t cowboys and Indians, but Chesler settled in to watch while I pulled out my sketchbook. I heard the creaks when Granny Grace and Aunt Susannah Hope climbed the stairs, and before long the hum of their sewing machines started.

  Mama loved this old house where she grew up, with all its secret hiding places and stairs and closets. She told me one time it was over a hundred years old, and that’s why it moaned and groaned like Grandpa getting up out of his chair after a nap.

  After Aunt Susannah Hope bought the house from Granny and Grandpa, she and Mama used the second floor to run their sewing business. Mama could design things, and they both could really sew. They made curtains and pillows and dresses and anything else the rich ladies in town could think of. And when they weren’t sewing for somebody else, my aunt made things to decorate her house, and Mama sewed dresses for me. I missed picking out fabrics and patterns with her, and modeling the finished product, twirling in front of a mirror while she smiled.

  One day last summer before Mama got sick, I read upstairs while they sewed. Mama and Aunt Susannah Hope started chatting about how when they were girls they made secret hiding places for their treasures. They would stick things behind loose boards in closets and under the shelves in cabinets. I was tired of reading and decided to look for some of their secret places. It didn’t take long to find one of their treasures, a note stuck with chewing gum underneath a bookshelf. I brought it to Mama, and her eyes lit up. “It’s a love note to that boy I had a crush on in fifth grade!” she laughed after she read it. “We even got into your granny’s reddest lipstick so I could seal that note with a kiss.”

  “Can I keep it?” I asked. I could hardly believe Mama had been a girl my age. This was proof.

  “Okay, but you’ll have to hide it again.” She handed me a stick of gum and winked. “You know what to do.”

  When I got back home, I chewed the gum then stuck the note to the bottom of my desk drawer with the gum. It was still there, my own hidden treasure. Thinking of it now, I tried to draw Mama’s lips in my sketchbook, just to help me remember.

  Then I remembered another treasure. Once when I was nine, I was poking around Granny Grace’s old sewing chest, with its pull-out drawer that held spools of thread. I opened the top drawer and found an old envelope. Inside was a strand of hair tied in pink ribbon.

  “What’s this?” I asked Granny Grace, holding it up for her to see.

  “Oh, that,” she laughed. “That’s one of my favorite treasures. I once cut a lock from your mama’s hair when she was a little girl so I’d have her with me forever.”

  Forever came too soon. But Granny’s treasure gave me an idea for Mama’s Christmas present.

  Those sewing machines hummed all afternoon. Chesler watched fifteen minutes of the Christmas movie before he fell asleep, and I worked on my drawings in my sketchbook. I liked being in that old house and thinking about all its treasures and especially Granny’s treasure. I could see Mama, and I could almost see her running around this house when she was a little girl, when it didn’t have white furniture and dead flowers and so much stuff to break.

  It was nearly dark when Daddy and Uncle Don finally came through the front door, their faces looking like Pastor Simmons did just before he preached, all serious like. They would have been smiling and talking if they had found Laramie. Daddy said, “Go gather your things. We need to get home because Uncle Luke’s coming.”

  Now Chesler always forgot to brush his teeth, but he didn’t forget what Granny Grace said about taking some PB and F home with us. So he went yelling and running up the stairs for Granny. She and Aunt Susannah Hope came down the stairs and started asking Daddy and Uncle Don more questions than my teacher asks on review day. Daddy just said Uncle Don could fill them in after we left. That meant Daddy didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t want us to hear about it.

  Daddy didn’t say a word ’til we got home. He hadn’t slept all night and all day, and he had been out in the cold too. He looked like he used to look when Mama was real sick and he was taking care of her
, only his face was red from the cold. After building a fire he headed straight for the shower. “Kate, you and Chesler take care of Uncle Luke if he gets here before I get cleaned up.”

  Daddy was coming back down the stairs when Uncle Luke barreled through the front door. He looked like a younger version of Daddy, tall and lanky with straight, brown hair and brown eyes. Daddy hugged him and snatched off his cap. “When in the world are you getting a haircut? We don’t want any shaggy-haired doctors in this family.”

  Uncle Luke hugged him again. “Maybe I’ll get my haircut when I smell chili cooking. All I smell around here are Chesler’s stinky feet.” Then he grabbed Chesler and swung him over his shoulders. Chesler screamed and giggled.

  “No chili tonight. I gotta make good on my promise to Chesler and Kate. I promised them waffles for breakfast, but I was called out to work in the middle of the night.”

  With Uncle Luke helping, we had hot eggs and hot waffles at the same time. Daddy didn’t say a word about Laramie and what he had been doing all day.

  After supper Uncle Luke helped me with the dishes. It was too dark to see the redbird even if she was in the cedar tree. When we all got to the den, Daddy stoked the fire, and Chesler put on a show like he always did when Uncle Luke came home, singing everything he knew and telling him all about his Christmas list.

  Then Uncle Luke told Daddy about all the stuff he was learning in medical school. That’s when Chesler fell asleep on his blanket in front of the fire. I listened for a little while, and then I pretended to be asleep. Grown-ups talked different when they thought children were asleep.

  Daddy asked, “So are you going to see Lisa Applegate while you’re home?”

  “Yes, I do plan to see her. We’ve been talking almost every day since I was home for Diana Joy’s funeral.”

  “Sounds serious,” Daddy joked.

  But he didn’t ask any more questions or tease, so Uncle Luke said, “Okay, big brother, cough it up. What’s on your mind?”

  “We got a little girl missing, Laramie Fields.” Daddy told him about Laramie and her dad and what happened the night before. “We searched the area all around the house and into the woods but didn’t find anything. The snow covered up all the clues. The police are bringing in some dogs to help with the hunt tonight.”

  Uncle Luke got up. “You go get some sleep. I’ll join the search.”

  “But you just got home. You must be tired.”

  “I’m used to pulling all-nighters. I’ll be fine.”

  Daddy didn’t even try to talk him out of it. “Okay, if you’re up to it, I know the guys will appreciate the help. I’ll sleep for a few hours and get Grace to take the kids. I’ll take your place in the search at daybreak.”

  Uncle Luke left, and Daddy fell asleep on the sofa. So I just stayed quiet ’til the fire went out. Chesler would get cold on the floor without the fire, so I woke him up and told him we were going to bed. I covered Daddy up with Chesler’s blanket and took Chesler to his room. Another night without brushing his teeth.

  Good. It was quiet. Daddy was downstairs, Chesler was asleep, and I could finally pull out my sketchbook. I turned on my desk light and took my pencils out and started to draw. I was thinking about Mama and Laramie’s mama. Mama loved us and wanted to stay, and she told me about faith and family and forever. I knew Mama wasn’t coming back no matter how much I wanted her to, but I knew I’d see her again. But Laramie’s mom? I wondered why she never told Laramie where she was going and why she didn’t take Laramie with her if she could.

  I didn’t have my mama very long, but I was glad I got to say good-bye to her. I began to sketch her face, and just as I was drawing her eyelashes something tapped against the window. I looked up. Probably the tree limb tapping again. I looked at the clock. Nearly midnight. I had been drawing for a long time.

  I closed my eyes, trying to remember how Mama’s eyelashes really looked. Her picture was too small to tell. Tap, tap again. This time I got up to look, and something hit the window right in front of my face. I jumped back, then I stepped to the window again to see. There on the ground underneath the elm tree, I thought I saw someone waving at me. My breath had already fogged up the window, so I rubbed the windowpane with my pajama sleeve before I peered out.

  It was a person. Somebody was standing in the snow waving at me. I knew it couldn’t be, but I hoped it was Mama.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I PUSHED AND PUSHED on the window. The cold wind blew right in my face when I finally got the window open enough to stick my head outside. I wasn’t seeing things. There was a person, all bundled up and leaning against the tree. I couldn’t tell who it was. But whoever it was knew my name and was calling me. It was kind of a hoarse whisper, sort of like the person couldn’t talk any louder or maybe didn’t want anybody else to hear. I still couldn’t tell who it was, so I asked, “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me. Laramie.” Then she slumped to the ground.

  I flew out of my room and took the stairs three at a time ’til I got to the bottom. Laramie. Laramie was here, and she was alive. I ran out the front door and knelt beside her. She was a puddle of coat and blanket underneath that elm tree. When I tried to wake her up, she opened her eyes and closed them again. I tried to pull her arm to get her up. She was limp like my rag doll. She wouldn’t wake up. She just didn’t have enough strength.

  I ran in the house hollering for Daddy. “Get up, get up, Daddy. It’s Laramie. She’s here.”

  “You having a bad dream, little peep?” Then he really woke up and saw I was shivering because I had been outside.

  “It’s not a dream, Daddy. Laramie is outside in the front yard, but I can’t get her up.”

  Daddy’s eyes widened, and he leaped off the couch. When we got to the front door, I pointed under the elm tree. Without even putting his shoes on, Daddy headed out the door. Moving fast was nothing new to Daddy. He was used to ambulances and emergencies and sirens, and I think his own siren was blaring inside.

  In moments Daddy picked up that bundle, and had Laramie lying on the sofa before I could lock the door. “Go, Kate, go get all the blankets you can find, and don’t waste time doing it.” Daddy was checking her pulse as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

  I grabbed the comforter on Daddy’s bed and the extra quilt in his closet. Daddy was talking to somebody on the phone when I got back downstairs. “Yeah, her pulse is slow but steady. I will.” He hung up.

  “That was Uncle Luke. He’s on his way back home.” Daddy put his fingers back on Laramie’s neck and checked her pulse again. “Here, put the quilt down and help me.” Daddy lifted Laramie up and asked me to take off her coat. “Good, all her clothes are dry. That’s a sign she’s had shelter.”

  Her lips were blue with cold, and her hair was bloody and matted to her head. “You want me to go run a hot tub of water?”

  “No, it’s too dangerous to heat the body that fast. I want Luke to take a look at her first.”

  Daddy kept calling Laramie’s name, and sometimes she would open her eyes and look at him, then close them again. I took off her shoes and socks so Daddy could look at her toes. He had already looked at her fingers. “No frostbite. That’s good,” Daddy said.

  I sat right beside her and rubbed her arm while Daddy went to the truck to get his medical bag. He was checking Laramie’s temperature when Uncle Luke walked in with a police officer. “Kate, go to the kitchen and pour Laramie a glass of juice.”

  Now how was Laramie supposed to drink juice if she was asleep? I think Daddy just wanted me to leave the room. As I opened the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of juice, I heard Daddy say to Uncle Luke and the officer, “She appears to have a mild case of hypothermia, and she’s dehydrated, plus she’s got a bad gash on her forehead. I think we’d better get her to the hospital. They’ll give her some fluids and check out that cut on her head.”

  “I think you’re right,” Uncle Luke said. “Just take my truck. It’s warm, and it’ll be better than cal
ling an ambulance this late. I’ll stay with the kids.”

  The policeman said, “She’s in good hands, so I’ll head back to the station to make a report and call off the search.” I heard his footsteps cross the floor and the front door close behind him.

  Daddy was putting on his shoes when I came back with the juice. “Thanks, honey, but I think we’d better take Laramie to the hospital now.” Daddy grabbed his coat and picked Laramie up off the sofa. Uncle Luke held the door, and Daddy and Laramie disappeared into the night.

  Since Laramie was gone, I gave Uncle Luke the juice, and he smiled at me a little and drank it down. “Thanks, Kate. I needed that.” He laid a warm hand on my shoulder. “You must be someone Laramie trusts for her to have come here like that. I’m proud of you.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” I asked.

  “She’ll be fine. Your daddy wanted to be sure she had the very best care. Now, you’d better get back to bed. I just need a hot shower, and then I’m going to bed too.”

  Uncle Luke headed for the bathroom, and the house was quiet again. I went to my room. It was freezing ’cause the window was still open. So I closed it, turned out the light, and climbed into bed. With the blanket pulled up tight under my chin, I prayed, “Thank You, God, for taking care of Laramie and for bringing Daddy and Uncle Luke home safe. Oh, and thank You, God, for keeping Laramie warm enough to stay alive. Amen.”

  Then I remembered I hadn’t put a smiley-face on my calendar tonight. I didn’t think long about who smiled because of me today. Today deserved the biggest smile ever, because Laramie was safe. I got up, turned on the light, and drew a huge smiley face on a yellow dot, then put it on December 19. Less than a week ’til Christmas and I still didn’t know how to get a present to heaven, but Laramie was living proof God answered prayer. Maybe He would get Mama’s Christmas present to her too.