“It won't kill them if they go a little light on one meal out of the year,” pleaded their dad, Jerry. “It's Christmas Eve, Honey.”
She nodded affirmatively, transformed by his smile into mush. “They're going to have so much sugar tonight and tomorrow, I just dread the affects of it all. Okay, dad saved you from the terrible green beans tonight,” she said teasingly.
Before they had even begun to pass out the presents as the kids sat in a circle on the floor, Claudia expressed concern over the baby Jesus, who was not in his manger. Abigail had hid him with permission from Uma and Brady.
“Jesus hasn't been born yet,” said Abigail, winking slyly to the others. “In my parish it used to be the littlest girl who was chosen at Midnight Mass to place the Infant in His manger. So Rayetta is the youngest, but since she isn't able to walk yet, I wondered if you would want to do the honors. Tonight when we attend Mass on television this Christmas, would you like to do it, Claudia? It will be only eight o'clock here, but that's okay because it will be midnight at the Vatican, actually several hours earlier. They recorded it for all of us in the rest of the world.”
“Me? Carry baby Jesus? Can I, Mom?” she asked.
“Of course you can,” Jodie answered, “You were asleep last year at Midnight Mass, and I had been sad to think we’d miss it this year. Thanks, Abby, for thinking of this. We'll open presents, then watch the Pope celebrate Mass and Claudia can carry baby Jesus. Do it very carefully, so you don't wake him up.”
“I won’t wake him, Mommy,” Claudia giggled, already old enough to know her mother was joking.
“Last year, I got to do it at our church,” said David, only seven. “Even though I'm a boy.”
“That's right,” said Mike, “at our parish, they choose the child whose birthday is closest to Christmas. David was born December 2, and he won. He had to walk down a long aisle in a dark church lit only by candlelight. You will only have a short way to go, Claudia.”
“We can turn out the lights, though,” said Uma, seeming to be accepting of these traditions with which must have been unfamiliar. “I've got lots of candles we can burn.”
Every child sat with two gifts each before them on the floor, waiting for Claudia to go first; another youngest child privilege.
“Wait, we have a gift for Rayetta,” said Abigail. “I couldn't resist. Would you mind, Claudia, if Rayetta went first, since she really is the youngest?”
“I guess I'd better get used to it,” she laughed. “And next year Jonah will be the youngest. I'm starting to feel really old.”
Everyone laughed while Ruthie, declaring this wasn't necessary, opened the beautiful little smocked dress made from pink rosebud cloth with pink bows and lace. “I've never seen anything so beautiful,” she exclaimed. “It's so feminine and delicate. I hope she doesn't spit up on it! And this reminds me to ask if you and Cal would be Rayetta's godparents.”
“We'd be honored, of course,” replied Abigail. “But we don't have a priest. Is Mike going to perform the rite?”
“A priest arrived earlier today, Father Eric Martin,” said Cal, “I forgot to tell everyone. It's been so busy around here. Agent Foley sent me a text, and I was supposed to pass it on. He's a new chaplain just assigned by the bishop and sent here to serve our community. There wasn't time for him to prepare for a Mass tonight, but he will celebrate Christmas Mass tomorrow at noon in the chapel inside the facility. I didn't know how to tell him those plans might be overshadowed by tomorrow’s events. If we are able, we will attend, if not… well, we don't know what will happen.”
“Depending on how it goes down,” said Brady thoughtfully, “he might find his little make-shift chapel overflowing with more new repentants than he could have imagined. All the churches everywhere experienced unexpected attendance after 9-11,”
Claudia began making impatient groans through clenched teeth to restrain her anxiety as it seemed another whole conversation was again going to delay the opening of gifts.
Everyone shouted at once, “Open your gift, Claudia.”
The established tradition in the Edwards family was for each child to open one gift at a time moving in a circle beginning with the youngest child upward so that everyone could share in each child's joy. She chose the bigger one first, which was a child's set of baking pans from Uma. She got up, ran to Uma, and gave her a big hug.
“Thank you Aunt Uma,” said Claudia, overjoyed, “I love them because they're real, not plastic.”
“That's what I thought when I saw them,” she said smiling, “and if you bring them up to my house, I'll help you make some little cakes and pies. Mommy can come, too. We'll make a big one for the adults.”
The child's mouth flew open with surprise and excitement, then looked over at her mother, who nodded that they would accept the invitation. Her second gift was a red-headed baby doll from Abigail, who commented that when she saw that doll she knew it belonged in this family. Everyone laughed that it looked like little Rayetta.
David received a police car and an ambulance; both with working sirens. Jodie moaned jokingly about the noise factor, teasing that he could come to Aunt Abby's and play with them. Laughter filled the room when Abigail said she was sure that the baby doll cried, too. It didn't actually, but the crowd was beginning to get giddy.
Mickey loved both the toy Cessna airplane with working lights from Abigail and the illustrated book about planes from Uma. Stephen got a pocket tool kit from Uma and when he opened the book from Abigail he was stunned to silence at the marvel he held in his hands. Abigail, or for that matter no one, had anticipated his emotional reaction.
“How did you know?” he said, deeply moved, “How did you know I love this stuff?”
“I didn't really, but I guessed it was something you'd like since you seem so serious about things,” said Abigail. “I would have devoured that book at your age, so I sensed you would like it.”
She had gotten him a thick, illustrated book about Biblical architecture. It had color pictures of Egyptian pyramids, Solomon's Temple, and many structures in old Jerusalem. Stephen, she now realized, was a boy who would love to hear stories about her trips and listen to her theories and interpretations of Bible stories. They shared a look of silent agreement that they had much to talk about together. Who can know whether this boy will have a chance to go to college, Abigail thought. I will share with him everything I know, be his teacher, and pass on the fervor for finding the truth. It would be good for him, she thought, and then maybe I won't miss teaching so much.
“There are still two presents left under the tree,” said Stephen, seated nearest to it. “They are for Abigail and Cal.
“We misunderstood that the adults were opening gifts under their own trees at home tomorrow morning,” said Abigail. “So we'll just take them back with us.”
“No,” moaned everyone. “Let's see what you got each other,” begged Ruthie. “Our families decided to only give to the kids this year. That's why we don't have presents here. Unless it's too personal,” she added. “We can understand that.”
“Let's do it,” said Cal, excited as a child, grabbing his gift and handing Abigail hers.
“Be careful,” she scolded, “It' breakable.”
“This is really beautiful, Honey,” he said, softly, seeing the lovely, delicate statue, “look at the detail. The dad has black hair, and our names are on it. This is me with our son. How did you do this in such a short time?”
“I'll bet Santa helped,” affirmed little David, “or maybe a Christmas angel.” Abigail gave him a wink and a nod, telling him he was right.
“Your turn,” said Cal, watching Abigail open the box, which she already had guessed contained jewelry. When she got through the wrapping, she opened the velvet hinged box, and her mouth dropped in amazement when she saw the beautiful charm bracelet. She placed it on her wrist immediately and began looking at each piece.
“I know you're supposed to get one charm at a time,” said Cal, “but we don't know how
much time we have or if there will be jewelry stores in the future. So I got your whole life for you all at once.”
“My whole life?” she gasped, “It certainly is. Here's little wedding rings linked with a baptismal font. Cal was baptized the day we got married,” she explained. “And here's a little log cabin, and a buffalo… my goodness, who would have thought about a buffalo but you. This is so meaningful, Cal,” she said, “I love it, but wait… there are things from before we met. The camel, a Marine Corps emblem, a little tiki God that I assume represents Bes Pataikoi—these represent events from my earlier life.”
“Yes, I know,” he said, “and they helped make you who you are today. The woman I love.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
“Who's Bess Patty Coy?” asked Claudia, curious about the funny name.
“It's an ancient goddess,” answered Abigail, “and I have a little statue of her given to me by my first husband, who died.” The group was a bit stunned, knowing nothing about the older man she married in name only so that he could rescue his legacy away from a vicious ex-wife who would not donate his papers to the foundations about which he cared so much.
“Cal, here's a little Starbuck's coffee cup,” she exclaimed, “to represent how we met. How cute is that!”
“I thought you met in Iraq,” said Uma, confused. She was now suspicious again about their story of who they were, no longer satisfied that Cal had been raised in a strange religious cult.
“We met in Iraq,” she answered quickly, “but we didn't really know each other until we were back in Saint Louis when we met again at a Starbuck's with him dressed in a marine uniform.”
That still didn't make sense to Uma, but she accepted it since everyone else nodded in acceptance. It wasn’t possible that Cal had been a marine. He hadn’t known anything about guns until Brady taught him.
“What does the butterfly and angel mean?” asked Abigail. “They're clipped together”
“Papillon,” he said, causing her face to beam with recognition.
“Pappy what?” asked Mickey.
“That's French for butterfly,” said Abigail. “And it's a dog with ears that look like a butterfly. Cal rescued one lost in an alley by our apartment, and we found the owner. That made us decide to get a dog, and we adopted Angel. See? A butterfly and an angel.”
She continued to examine each charm on her bracelet.
“Here's a whale connected together with some little scrolls,” said Abigail. “That stands for my quest to discover the tomb of Jonah in Iraq. I was determined to prove he really existed. And I see a little boy baby head. That must be our Jonah.”
“Since we don't know the future,” said Cal, “I got six boys and six girls to add on as time progresses.” Everyone laughed hilariously at her reaction at the thought of having twelve children. It would be hard to say which were open wider, her eyes or her mouth.
“I mean, maybe we'll only have six,” he explained. “We don't know what'll happen. They could all be boys, or all girls. I just wanted to make sure we didn't run out.” This brought more rounds of laughter.
There were a few charms she didn't want to bring attention to because the explanation would have been difficult; the little demon attached to a tiny teardrop—that was her repentant demon. The Adam and Eve—that was Cal's choice to help rebuild the human race instead of becoming an angel of God, who was represented by yet another charm.
“Cal, the Archangel makes me sad, though,” she said, forgetting herself, “Doesn't it make you sad to think of this angel?”
“Why would I be sad at about the angel that gave me life?” he asked. “The angel that gave me you.” She smiled in relief, that angel, she thought—Ashriel.
“All right, I can't take it anymore,” exclaimed Uma, visibly shaken. “I'm feeling actually afraid. Something is going on that I don't understand. All this religious stuff is getting to me.”
“I'm sorry, Uma,” said Abigail, touching her hand, trying to comfort her. “But why are you afraid? I don't understand. We didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“You're not doing anything wrong,” she said, teary-eyed. “It's me. I never believed in any of this stuff, and I'm sorry to be breaking down like this in front of the kids. I'm really sorry. I just feel so afraid. It's as though everything I've always thought of as stupid and silly is real,” she said, whispering the last word. “It's all true, and I've been wrong my whole life about everything. That's hard for me to deal with.”
“You know we almost forgot the kids' surprise,” said Brady, “Why don't you take them out to the barn and get the presents they made,” he said, addressing Mike, who shuffled the kids away so that Uma could talk freely.
“I know what you are,” she said to Cal, once they were gone. “You're an angel. I figured it out. I don't understand how, but I know you are not a normal man. I'm amazed, but scared to death, because I don't deserve heaven when I die. And I'm afraid I might just die before all of this is over.”
“Cal is not an angel,” said Abigail, softly, “And we're all going to die, every one of us. Don't worry, you're going to heaven with all of us.”
“What is he then? What's all this talk about angels?” she asked, very confused but less afraid.
Abigail took a deep breath, deciding to tell it all. Then when she glanced at the others, they smiled knowingly at her.
“You already knew, all of you? Mike told you?” she asked. And they nodded yes.
“He couldn't keep lying to us,” said Sandra, “It's not something he does easily, so he took a chance that we would understand. And we did. It's not good to keep secrets from family.”
Uma had listened to it all, and was calm by the time Mike came back in with the kids carrying things they had made with Brady's help in his workshop. Brady stood behind Uma, putting his hand on her shoulder to give her comfort. Cal asked him if he had problems dealing with everyone's beliefs especially in connection with what was going on.
“I've always been a believer,” said Brady, “but I didn't want to say anything because I didn't think Uma would like it. C'mon, my name's McFarland. I've been a closet Catholic our whole life together.”
Uma's mouth dropped in disbelief about the same time the kids unveiled their surprises. Apparently Brady had kept them busy in his workshop for hours. They had made five wreaths woven from grape vines which had been stripped of leaves and polished to a lovely patina. On each wreath hung five carved wooden mittens with each of the five children's names and birth dates burnished onto the centers.
“We are going to make new mittens for every baby born in our families,” said David. “We couldn't make Jonah's yet because we don't know his birthday.”
“I love it,” said Ruthie, “This explains all those little scraped fingers over the past weeks.”
“I’ going to leave mine out all year,” said Abigail, “This is a great reminder of all of you, and it's so beautifully made.”
The children beamed with pride as comments and praise continued over their workmanship until Cal mentioned that Mass was about to start.
They gathered in front of the television with all the solemnity as though they were in a church. Uma dimmed the lights and lit candles throughout the room as she prepared to attend her first ever celebration of Christmas Eve Mass. They watched the screen as Italian children carried a priceless statue of the infant down the red-carpeted aisle to an exquisite bisque creche in an elaborate procession amidst the grandeur of a papal Mass.
Claudia placed the wooden baby Jesus carried on a worn throw pillow to a willow stable under the tree decorated with home-made ornaments of pine cones, paper, and bits of cloth. She did it with every bit of reverence as any celebrant in a grand cathedral. Uma took her cues from the rest of the family who voiced the prayer responses from memory. Mike provided her a missal to help her to follow the order of things, but it takes a little time and practice to master the ritual.
She listened to the pope's homily as it was translated int
o English, while Cal listened to both languages simultaneously. Every one of them felt as if the Holy Father must have had some prophetic knowledge of the events which were to come. He spoke of an urgent need for prayer and a serious world crisis of which Christ was our only hope of survival. Perhaps the topic of the world ending was not one which hadn't been addressed from the pulpit many times before, but on this night it held special meaning, at least for this group in the McFarland living room. They bowed their heads at the consecration of the bread and wine, and though they could not receive at that time, they opened their hearts to receive him spiritually into their hearts.
Uma peeked at the screen to see thousands of people bowing in the Basilica of St. Peter in Rome. They crossed their arms over their hearts during the distribution of communion. It was amazing to think that she had joined all of them in believing, in becoming a follower of Christ. Uma had always been an all-or-nothing kind of girl. Now accepting God, she immediately accepted Christ, along with Catholicism, although she didn't completely understand it. She cried silent tears of happiness, determined to learn about her new found faith.
The Last Stand (Book 3) (The Repentant Demon Trilogy) Page 9
