by Jane Lebak
After the Mass, the parishioners of St. Gus held an all-night party in the church basement, lasting from the end of Midnight Mass to the beginning of the sunrise service on Christmas morning. Jay had suggested it for Easter Sunday his first year, and the parish had all but demanded one for Christmas as well. Parishioners provided potluck dishes and still more plates of cookies, pies, and candies. Someone turned on the coffee urns with enough coffee to keep the entire parish awake until sunrise. The coffee became progressively stronger as it boiled down through the small hours of the morning.
The choir commandeered one of the corners and started jamming with a few of the youth group's amateur guitar players.
Mrs. D. wheeled out a television and then called over the boys from upstairs. “I heard someone wanted Christmas specials,” she began, and no one heard any more as the kids mobbed her demanding their favorites. After many threats, shouts and insults, a selection was made—the rest stacked in careful order to insure a full night of television.
Jay joined the choir and contributed his bass. Then some of the younger kids sang a couple of the more popular songs playing on the radio, and Jay sat with them listening and every so often wincing at the lyrics.
Nick came up to him, smelling vaguely of buttered popcorn, but didn't say anything.
Jay said, “Are you having a good time?”
Nick grunted, then handed Jay a paper cup. It felt warm against his palm, and light enough that Jay explored the top with his fingers. Popcorn. “Thanks.”
“It's nothing.”
The choir launched into “The Little Drummer Boy,” and Jay sang along with them, doing the bass “rum…pa pum” part like a big drum. Nick didn't leave his side. At the end, after the little boy “played his best for him,” Nick started to walk away.
Then he smiled at me. Parum-pa-pum-pumm. Me and my drum.
Nick pivoted and returned as the song ended. He folded his arms and turned his back to Jay, then said, “So, uh, why are you doing all this?”
Jay grinned. He couldn't help it.
At two o'clock in the morning, Santa made a surprise visit, distributing candy canes. No one was more surprised than Jay, since he hadn't made any arrangements for this. It wasn't until he got close enough to hear Santa's voice that he realized the man wearing the suit had come from his own family tree rather than the North Pole.
Jay shook Santa's hand. “You're a lunatic.”
“Thanks.” Kevin didn't let go, then tugged Jay's arm so he stepped closer. “I've been a real idiot.”
Jay gave a relieved smile. “Tell me something I didn't know.”
“I'm trying to apologize here.”
“Save it.” Jay gave Kevin a hug. “I'm just glad you're back. We can talk about it later.” He paused. “Why are you here?”
“We booked a guy who didn't need this suit any longer, and I figured if the suit fit, I'd wear it.”
Jay grinned. “Thanks. The kids are getting a kick out of it.”
Starving sharks in a frenzy would have stared in awe of the kids swarming Santa to get gifts and make requests. Jay backed off to watch his brother defend himself as only Santa can: with plenty of Ho-ho-hos and candy canes. There were photographs and even some of the adults sat on Santa's lap with requests of their own.
He'd never thought of his brother as good with kids. He didn't know Kevin even liked kids. But here they were, clambering all over him, begging and exhibiting simultaneously their cutest and most obnoxious behaviors. Kevin was laughing with them, talking, encouraging, and showing them a good time. In a way, it reminded Jay of when he and Kevin used to tussle: they'd fight to the death with each other, but let an outsider try to interfere and instantly they'd unite.
Eventually Santa announced that he needed a break, and Mrs. D. herded the swarm back to the television.
“Some kids you've got there,” Kevin said to Jay.
“I was wondering whether you'd survive, yeah.” He took a breath and looked momentarily cautious. “You kept evading my question before. I thought you were never coming back.”
Kevin walked to the far side of the parish hall, his pace modulated so Jay could keep up with him, and then he settled onto a beat-up couch. The worn cushions sagged. Jay laughed. “You didn't realize, but no one can ever climb out of this couch once he sinks in.”
“It is pretty old,” Kevin admitted. He gestured to the coffee. “I'm being rude, but are you going to drink that?”
Jay handed him the cup. “Remember the time you snuck coffee into the hospital for me?”
“You were off the respirator two days.” Kevin laughed. “You needed a reward for continuing to breathe.”
“The nurses were so angry, so you promised that mega-sized coffee was all for you.”
“And you signed at me Like hell it is.” Kevin grimaced as he sipped the coffee. “This is an awful trade, though—what I gave you was hot and not burnt.”
“I didn't promise it was any good.” Jay chuckled. “Okay, later. You go begift the kids, or whatever it is Santa does. I'll be here when you're done.”
Holly showed at three a.m.. “Late closing,” she told Jay as she pulled off her gloves. “It was positively insane. I got a table of fifteen with only half an hour until closing time.” She hesitated. “So, is breaking and entering a sin if Santa Claus does it?”
“You'd have to ask Santa Claus.” Jay grinned, not taking the bait. “I'm given to understand he has some law enforcement experience.”
Holly followed the direction of Jay's glance, and he caught the moment she recognized Kevin as Santa. The kids were still going to him to have their pictures taken—even the older boys—and Santa still had a few candy canes left in the bag. Jay thought he recognized Jamie climbing onto Santa's lap to ask for a gift, and he didn't envy Kevin that moment. Really, what else could the kid be asking for?
Holly stepped away from Jay, and he let her go. She waited alongside until Kevin saw her during a break in the picture-taking. Gesturing to the kids to wait, Kevin stepped away from the chair and approached Holly.
From across the hall, Jay couldn't hear what was said, nor was his vision good enough to pick up the expressions on their faces, but he could well-imagine both: uneasy, guarded. And yet Kevin would have that earnestness in his eyes, the authority that for some reason only grew more compelling when he questioned himself. Holly? He couldn't begin to guess what she might be thinking, and he said a quick prayer that the Holy Spirit would guide their conversation.
Several of the parishioners had made up gifts for the boys upstairs, and Jay had Santa distribute them. Many of the boys got new clothes. Mrs. D. had purchased eleven matching backpacks of the current cool name-brand (three kid-sized) which the boys universally loved. Some of the Archangels made immediate trade offers.
Jay asked the adults to let the kids come to him. “I hope you're glad for all the loot you've gotten,” he began, and the boys cheered. Everyone in the parish hall laughed. “But there's still two more gifts to go.” He looked around. “Eddie, can you come up here?”
When Eddie didn't respond at once, the boys pushed him forward.
“Eddie, there's someone who wants to meet you.” Jay turned to his left and brought their attention to the owner of the grocery store. “He wants to give you a special Christmas gift.”
The man cleared his throat. “I would like to offer you a job.”
Jay waited until Eddie realized what he'd been given. When it happened, Eddie's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, and his smile took over his whole face. “Really? When can I start? Should I start now?”
There was some general laughter. The man said, “Why don't we wait until the day after Christmas, perhaps?”
Jay turned to his other side. “Mrs. D.?”
Mrs. D. walked forward. Jay said quietly, “Jamie, Maria, and Louis, can you please come here?”
Everyone was quiet. Mrs. D. approached the three children and crouched down before Jamie. “It broke my heart to think of th
e three of you without a home to go to on Christmas day. I've been enjoying having you around the church so much. You brighten up the day, and you remind me so much of my grandchildren. Would it be all right if you spent some time living with me? I don't have many toys or video tapes, and I don't own any computer games, but I have a warm house and a back yard, and I have neighbors with kids, and I would love to cook for you and share a home with you until your parents are found.” She smiled at Jamie, then stood and looked at the other two. “What do you think?”
Jay realized he was holding his breath. He had told her it was entirely up to the children where they stayed.
Louis said, “I think we would like that.” Maria beside him only nodded.
Jamie said in almost a whisper, “Can I still see Eddie sometimes?”
Mrs. D. said, “Of course you can. We can walk down to the church every day if you like.”
Jay said, “When Eddie's not at work, you mean.”
There was relieved laughter all around, and Mrs. D. hugged the children. Jay took a deep breath and sank back into his chair. These all-nighters were fun, but they were also exhausting.
Santa Claus crossed the room and sat beside Jay while the boys stuffed all of their gifts into their new backpacks. As they dispersed, he said, “Their parents may still turn up. They may not be with that woman long.”
“If it makes them all happy, it can't hurt even if it's brief. The kids need as much love as they can get.” He looked sideways. “You make a good Saint Nick.”
“Thanks. I bring my own padding.”
“The way you were putting away the cookies before, I thought you were making your own padding.”
“Very funny. Is ridicule one of the seven deadly sins?”
“Not that I can recall.”
“Well, it should be.”
One of the parishioners approached Jay and asked if he could bless a rosary for her. She opened a box to reveal a brand new string of fifty-nine wooden beads, plus a silver-toned crucifix and a triangular medal at the center. Jay had her hold it in her palm while he murmured a prayer, and then made the sign of the cross over it. After the woman thanked him, he said, “Pray the first one for me. God knows I need it.”
Once she'd gone, Jay laid a hand on Kevin's arm, then turned toward the smudge of light that was his brother's face to his very tired eyes. “Hey, Saint Nicholas? Come with me.”
Together they made their way up the creaky back steps to the sacristy behind the altar area of the church. Jay had to take it slow, moving with a mixture of care and pain.
Halfway up, Kevin said, “What was the deal about blessing the rosary?”
Jay spoke between breaths. “Oh, anyone can bless anything, but some people like it more when a priest does it or someone special to them. When we were ordained, the Bishop gave all three of us rosaries blessed by Mother Teresa.”
Kevin nodded. “How does it work?”
Jay chuckled. “I'm not quite sure myself. I figure God knows.”
Once in the vesting sacristy, Jay flipped on the lights and made his way to a couch upholstered in the best green vinyl the 1970s had to offer.
Kevin glanced at the long rack of altar server robes. “Are you going to induct me into the church to save my filthy hell-bound soul?”
Jay rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. “You said you wanted to talk. So talk to me.”
Nearly a minute passed, Kevin standing and Jay sitting in a room permeated by the muted sounds of a Christmas party beneath their feet.
“I'm sorry I didn't respect your beliefs.”
Jay frowned. That was an apology, and it was probably even accurate, but it wasn't the point. Kevin had to know that wasn't the point.
After Jay had waited him out, Kevin ran a hand through his hair. “I had you all wrong, you know.”
Jay still maintained silence.
Kevin's mouth twitched. “I kept thinking of you as working one hour a week when you had to do your church service. Everyone going around telling you how holy you were and what a higher calling you had while you sat like an executioner passing judgment and telling us we were all going to hell. Quoting scripture rather than thinking. Oh, and asking for money.”
Jay said, “That's not really it, is it?”
Kevin frowned. “You're going to be a jerk about this, aren't you?”
Jay's brow furrowed as he nodded. “I don't want to go through this again. Whatever you need to say, I want to hear it. I'm listening.”
“I lost everything. We lost mom. We effectively lost Dad after Mom died. It was just us. And then—” Kevin stared at the floor.
“And then you lost me too,” Jay said. “You can't be mad at the army, and you can't be mad at Iraq, so you're being mad at God. But aren't you avoiding being mad at the one you should be mad at?”
Kevin shrugged. “I can't be mad at you.” He pointed at the Santa suit. “I'm jolly, remember?”
Despite himself, Jay laughed. Kevin did the same, but he walked to the window and stared at the street lights creating yellow circles in the parking lot.
“You and me were all we had,” Kevin said. “Now you're running the streets and making mischief with God, yeah, and that's really annoying. If God doesn't exist, then you ditched me for a phantom. But if God exists, then He could have picked anyone. Why'd He take you?” He turned back to Jay. “I can't fight that. You've made your choice. I should let Him have you.”
Jay leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. “I'd kind of prefer you didn't. God knows how to share. So do I.”
Kevin turned from the window, leaning against the wall. “Well, that's pretty much it. I'm not saying I believe in God or believe in the same God you do. But you have this life here, and if you'll still have me in yours, I'm willing to give it a chance.” Kevin shook his head. “It's hard to think that my hellion brother went on and became better than me.”
“No, not better.” Jay sat forward. “Different, not better. You're my hero. There's nothing shameful about that.”
Kevin smiled a little. “I got you some paint.”
Jay's eyes narrowed. “That's eighty pounds of rice.”
“I knew you'd say that. I've also got eighty pounds of rice in my trunk.” When Jay laughed, Kevin said, “And I'll help you paint downstairs when the holiday craziness dies down.” He studied Jay for a moment. “You look like you're about to pass out. You want me to walk you back home?”
Jay shook his head. “I was planning to crash here for a few hours. There's a Mass at eight. If I'm in the church already, I won't oversleep.”
Kevin sighed. “The trick when you're doing a twenty-four hour shift is never to sit down. I'll let you sleep. But—before that...”
Jay squinted at Kevin. “What?”
Kevin swallowed. “I feel silly, but maybe you should bless my badge or something.”
Jay burst out laughing. Kevin reddened. “No,” Jay said. “I have a better idea. You come here.”
With Kevin standing before him, Jay took both his hands and laid them on his head. “Now you bless me.”
Kevin jerked away. “What? How do I do that? What do I say?”
Jay paused. “I normally say something like 'I bless you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.' I guess you wouldn't want to do it that way, though.”
“No, I'll say it. It can't hurt.” Kevin put his hands back on Jay's head, and Jay felt the warmth of Kevin's hands resting against his hair, a warmth he normally associated with the presence of God. “I bless you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
Jay said, “Amen,” and made the sign of the cross.
Kevin crouched beside the couch so he was at eye-level to Jay. “You get some sleep, okay? I'll be back again.”
With a grin, Jay said, “You have to be back. You've got my rice,” and Kevin laughed.
Jay listened until he heard Kevin leave the church. He laid his head against the green cushion and closed his eyes. It worked out okay, God, h
e thought, but before he could pray more, the last twenty-four hours caught up with him, and he fell asleep. Sometimes, a nap is better than a sack full of toys from Santa Claus.
It was a long Christmas morning, every Mass packed to standing room only, and he spent a long time greeting parishioners. Eddie stayed to help afterward, as if proving himself capable of bagging groceries with the best of men. Mrs. D. collected the three children's scarce belongings while the kids chattered with questions: Was there a tree? Would there be dinner? Did she have a dog?
After the activity subsided, Jay walked alone to the rectory basement for a well-deserved nap. What a good Christmas. The kids had gotten what they needed: tangible signs of love and a little perspective, some food and the knowledge that many people cared about them. Thank you, Jay prayed, deeply tired. He sat on his bed, but before he'd stretched out he saw something white with a splash of red on his desk.
Only when he got closer did Jay realize what it was, and he laughed out loud. Standing on his desk, adorned with a simple ribbon bow, was an electric can opener.
Epilogue
“And this is the tree.”
Holly stepped back to study the pine. It stood higher than both their heads, and when she turned, she found Kevin admiring it too. The tree bent somewhat from its time beneath the ice, but still it stood alive and healthy, growing, needles extended to the sun. “How do you feel? You're the tree's hero.”
“I should have got Cop of the Month for this.” Kevin grinned. “Instead they gave it to that guy who pulled two kids out of a wreck on the expressway.”
“You've been robbed.” Holly chuckled. “They could at least award you the Tree Surgeon's Citation of Excellence.”
“Not too loud. They might institute one.” Kevin shrugged. “I just thought since we were passing through, I might as well show you.”
“I'm glad you did.” Holly slipped her hand into Kevin's and gave a squeeze. “Thanks.”
Kevin checked his watch. “We'd better get moving if we want dinner before the movie. Come on.”
