Monthly Archives: December 2019

Christmas Gifts

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It’s the night before Christmas and all through the night, not a creature is stirring not even a mouse. Well, that’s not entirely true because I’m wide awake. My imagination is going wild, thinking of all the exciting surprises that might happen on Christmas morning. I know I’ll never fall asleep.

I’ve been counting the days down until Christmas for over three months. I asked Santa for art supplies. I love to draw, and I really want a Barbie doll. My best friends have one and I want one too. I imagine combing her long hair and making clothes for her. I have tried so hard to be good this year so that my dream will come true.

I keep jumping out of my bed and staring out my bedroom window, trying to catch a glimpse of Santa and his reindeer. Can you imagine being able to see him? I would so love to have a ride in his sleigh and meet all the reindeer and fly through the sky all through this snowy and magical night.

My parents promised me that Santa would bring me whatever my heart desires. I believe them.

Glass fireplace

My father spent most of his free time in the past couple of weeks decorating our house for Christmas. In our living room, we have a glass fireplace that my father made many years ago. It’s made from glass blocks instead of bricks. My dad puts colored lights inside the glass blocks at Christmas time. It’s beautiful.

My dad loves to create beautiful and unusual things. He made our Christmas tree this year out of umbrella frames that he attached to one another. And then he hung up strands of golden, glass beads all around it. He places it carefully in front of the mirror that is at the bottom of the glass fireplace. At night we turn out all the lights in the living room. My dad turns on the Christmas lights on the umbrella tree and inside the fireplace.  The lights and colors twinkle on and off. It is so neat. I know that no one else will have a tree-like ours.

We have a wreath on the front door made from huge, plastic poinsettias. And there’s a fat Santa that resides on the front stoop. Christmas lights decorate the rose arbor that my father-built years ago on our front porch. In the Spring and the Summer, it is covered with the most beautiful red roses you can imagine. And the aroma of the roses and the lilac bush as you walk up onto our front step is unforgettable. My father loves roses, and he planted a rose garden in our backyard with all the colors of the rainbow. I love to sit back there and watch the bees travel from one bloom to the next.

Our kitchen table has a little water fountain on it that my father fashioned out of hubcaps and metal ashtrays. My dad puts different colors of food dye into the water every few days. Right now, the water is red for Christmas. I love to watch the fountain while I eat my breakfast of fried eggs and toast.

My mother started baking Christmas cookies a couple of weeks ago. I love to help my mother make the cookies, but I usually eat too much of the raw dough and get a stomach ache. She mixes all the dough in a huge metal mixing bowl, and then she puts the dough in this thing called a Cookie Gun. And on the front end of the gun, you can put different shaped cookie cutters, and each cookie comes out in a different shape, like snowflakes and stars and snowmen. After the cookies are baked, my mom and I decorate them with red and green icing and different colored sprinkles. They’re delicious, and I look forward to eating them. My mother places all the cookies in a huge tin can with wax paper between the layers. And she hides them in the basement. But I always find the cookie tin way before Christmas and eat a bunch.  My mother never yells about eating them. My mother hardly ever yells, no matter what we do.

As I’m putting on my Christmas outfit, I hear my mom calling, “it’s time for you to get up. The bells for the nine o’clock Mass are going to start ringing.”

Before we open our presents on Christmas morning, I have to go to the children’s Mass at the 9” o’clock mass.  The service is really long on Christmas. Father Nolan tells us the story from the bible about the birth of baby Jesus and Mary and Joseph.

“I’ll be right down, Mom,” I scream from my bedroom upstairs. As I jump down the steps two at a time. I rush through the swinging door that’s between the living room and the hallway. I let the door slam shut. My father shouts, “don’t slam the door.”

“Susie, will you stop making so much noise? It’s enough to wake up the dead. My mother adds.”

My new coat.

“Sorry, Mom. I yell at the top of my voice.” I pull the hall closet door as hard as I can because it sticks. I grab my coat, which was an early Christmas gift. It’s white and has fake fur, and there are snowflakes all over it. I absolutely love it. I pull up the hood, and I’m off to the nine o’clock Mass.”

I run up to the Church, slipping and sliding the whole way. There’s a good three feet of snow on the grass. The sidewalk was shoveled yesterday by everyone who lives on Fellowship Road a couple of days ago. But there’s a thin layer of ice on the entire sidewalk all the way up to the church. Our Lady of Perpetual Help Catholic Church is only two houses away from where I live. I arrive just in time to get in line to go to the children’s Mass on time. The church bells are ringing and playing The First Noel.

There is one thing that I love about living next to the church is that I can hear the church bells ringing all the time. The bells ring before each Mass and on Holy Days, and Saturdays. When people get married or there’s a funeral and when a baby is baptized. I love hearing those bells. It’s a joyful sound.

Sister Joseph Catherine grabs ahold of me as I run up the steps. “Hold on, Susan Carberry, remember what I told you,” I don’t want you to sing out loud, mouth the words. You have a terrible voice.”

“Yes, Sister,” I say. As I turn around, I stick out my tongue.” I suppose I’ll go to hell for that.

At this moment, I decided that I despise Sister Joseph Catherine. She is the bane of my existence. She was my fourth-grade teacher. And she made me hate every day of fourth grade. She made me follow her around wherever she went and carry her stuff. Reminding me every day how stupid she thought I was. I decide that I will sing as loud as I can during Mass, I love singing Christmas hymns.

All during Mass, I keep praying for a Barbie doll and art supplies. After we take Communion my stomach starts growling loudly. My friend, Helen Hartman, starts laughing and then I laugh too. Sister Joseph Catherine comes over to our pew, and scowling at us clicks the clicker in our hand. And gives me the evil eye.

I start thinking about Christmas breakfast. My mother will be cooking a special Christmas breakfast. She will make scrambled eggs and scrapple. And my father makes the toast and butters it. Or maybe biscuits. Oh, how I love my mother’s homemade biscuits. My stomach starts growling even louder. This starts the whole pew of my friends laughing. Sister Joseph Catherine looks like she wants to wring my neck. I will have to make a quick getaway after Mass is over. And I won’t see her until after the New Year, so maybe she’ll forget about it by then. I’ll have to pray about that before the end of Mass. I start saying some extra Hail Mary’s and Our Fathers.

After Father Nolan and the altar boys slowly march out of the church, Sister Joseph Catherine signals us with her clicker to start filing out of the pews. As I walk by her, she makes a grab for my collar, but I manage to get away. And before she catches up to me, I run out the double doors and nearly break my neck, jumping down the steps two at a time, forgetting that they are covered in ice. But it’s my lucky day, and I get up relatively unscathed and slip and slide my way to my front door. I fling open the door and knock my boots off. And slam the door behind me.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Susan, why do you always have to slam the door and make such a racket?”

“Sorry, Mom, I’m starving. When will breakfast be ready?”

“Go wash your hands, Susan, and then you can have breakfast.”

I don’t know what my mother thinks I was doing in church to get my hands dirty. But I go in the bathroom and run the water. And sit down at the table. “Hi, Daddy, Merry Christmas.”

“How was Mass Susie?”

“Oh, the same Dad, nothing new. I’m starved.”

“Yes, we heard you, Susan. Here it comes.”

Family Chrismas Morning 1962

After we eat breakfast, my married older sisters and brother will come over with their little kids. And we’ll open up the presents and have cake and Christmas cookies. I really love all my nieces and nephews. They are so much fun. They’re so excited and happy about Christmas, and they make me feel excited and happy too. I always take them over my friend’s house to show them off.

My daddy puts some Christmas music on the stereo. I sit on the floor and watch all my little nieces and nephews open their gifts. They are all laughing and throwing Christmas wrapping paper all over the living room. My mother is busy starting to get dinner ready. Even though we just ate breakfast. My mom never stops cleaning and cooking. She hardly ever sits down except to say the rosary in the morning.

It was a great Christmas. I didn’t get a Barbie Doll, I got a Miss Joan doll. But that’s alright. She came with an extra dress and high heels. And my best friend’s name is Joanie. So, I love her anyway. I also got an art set that has pictures that you can color with paint that has sparkles in it. It’s going to be such fun to paint.

When my sisters and brother and all their kids leave, I run down the street to visit my best friend, Joan’s house. And I see all her gifts and her beautiful Christmas tree. And best of all I get to have a whole lot of Italian Christmas cookies and they’re delicious. It’s been a great day. And I start looking forward to next Christmas.

FUNNY BUSINESS

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Coffee Break

I have been looking for a new job for over a year, with no luck. Or should I say with no good luck? But plenty of bad luck. I quit my last job. Well, that’s not entirely true. My immediate supervisor strongly suggested that I quit because he had every intention of firing me. There was a difference of opinions on why I quit or why my supervisor wanted to fire me, depending on the point of view.

He stated that I wasn’t a team player. And that’s true to a point; I prefer working independently. But I’m quite capable of working in concert with a team. I have difficulty taking direction from someone whom I consider to be less intelligent, less experienced, and a kiss-ass.

But give me a task, and I promise you it will be completed on time and might I say, impeccably. I do ask that people that work with me on a team or in my department have high standards. But most of all, I will not tolerate any kind of funny business.

What kind of funny business, you ask? That is an excellent question. Number one is to keep your hands to yourself. Secondly, do not ask personal questions. And most importantly, know that if I find out that you or any member of the team do anything that even the slightest bit illegal, immoral, I will promptly tell management and or call in the police if necessary. I have very high standards and will not tolerate any breach of professional ethics or the law.

Oh, you need to hear more details about what happened exactly? Of course, if you think it’s necessary. I will explain the events that led to my current unemployment and job search.

As with all things in life, it began with something small but didn’t end there. I bring my lunch to work every day. And a thermos of hot coffee large enough to last all day. It’s a special blend.  I purchase it from an exclusive shop in Marlton, NJ.  It’s called Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee. It cost $50.00 a pound. It’s my one big self-indulgence. It has a wonderful flavor with absolutely no bitter aftertaste. Because the coffee beans are subject to many rainfalls in Jamaica while they grow, it’s amazing and worth every penny. I can’t describe how delicious it is and how much I look forward to drinking every last drop of it during my workday.

It all began one inauspicious day a year ago. I arrived at work one-half hour early as usual. I consider that thirty minutes to be my time to do whatever I wish. And I want to spend it reading the news and my emails. And drinking my first cup of Blue. That’s how I refer to my coffee, Blue.

I was the first person to arrive as usual. I made myself as comfortable as possible at my desk chair and powered up my computer. As I waited, I opened my thermos and inhale the rich aroma of Blue. I feel a sense of deep contentment. Ah, I think it’s all worth it just to feel the sense of anticipation before I take this first sip of the day.

And then that perfect moment is shattered when I hear my boss’s shrill voice calling out my name. “Rachael, is that you? Could you please come to my office right now? I have something that needs to be taken care of immediately.”

It takes every ounce of self-control not to shout, “hell no, this is my time.”

I carefully place my coffee on my desk and take the last whiff of that aroma. I step back from my desk and walk toward my boss’ office.

“Hello, Mr. Cummings. I didn’t know you were here. It’s early, and I was just about…

“Yes, yes, I know it’s early. I need you to get started on the Murdock issue right away. It has to be finished by day’s end. Even if you have to work through your lunch and breaks. Do you understand?”

“Understand? Of course. But I was just about to drink my morning coffee. And then I’ll get started.”

“What don’t you grasp about the urgency of completing this project TODAY, ASAP? As in now, not later. Get busy if you want to keep your job. Close the door on the way out.”

As I walk over to my desk, I have a sense of not being entirely in my body. I have a feeling that I’m somehow floating. And then I realize that I’m irate. And every time I’m about to lose my temper completely, I have this weird out-of-body experience.

I try to take several long breaths. It doesn’t help. I go to the ladies’ room and take a look in the mirror. I hardly recognize myself. My face is red, and I’m gritting my teeth. I try breathing in and out of my nose. I feel lightheaded. Maybe, I‘m having a stroke or something. I step into the cubicle and sit on the closed toilet. I try to calm down. I go back to my desk.

All I need to do right now is have my morning coffee. Is that too much to ask? No, it is not. This is my time, goddammit. I pick up my coffee, and I take a small sip. And I taste not pipping hot but cold coffee. I slam the cup down and say out loud.” What the fuck?”

I’m startled by the sound of my voice.  I have never cursed at any place of employment. My hand flies up and covers my mouth of its own volition. I’m shocked. I’m suddenly terrified of what I may do next. I don’t recognize myself at this moment.

I feel a sudden impulse to run out of the office and get in my car and drive far, far away.

I contemplate it for a moment. And then I plop down in my chair and try to get control over my emotions. What’s happening to me? And then it occurs to me that I should go to my boss’s office and tell him that I most certainly will drink my coffee and take my breaks. And he can not legally force me to do otherwise.

I stand up so suddenly I almost fall over. Then I plop down in my chair again.

I consider the possible outcomes of such a bold move. I could be fired outright. I could be demoted. It took me five years to work my way up the corporate tight rope, and I don’t want to start over somewhere else. Dammit. I’m screwed.

At that moment, I have a flash of insight. I will nonchalantly walk into my boss’ office and offer him a fresh cup of Blue. He will, of course, love it. I mean, who wouldn’t. I won’t tell him the Brand of coffee. No matter how he begs. And then he will want more, and I will be his only connection. He will be at my mercy. And so, I begin.

I go into the employee luncheon area, and I find the best coffee cup in the cupboard. I will pour him a cup of my ambrosia, and he will be instantly hooked.

I wash and dry the cup, which is emblazoned with the epitaph, And So It Begins.   What could be more perfect than this? I take it to my desk and generously fill the cup almost to the top. It is painful to watch, for I know every drop I pour into this cup will not be one that I can drink today. I shudder at the thought. A tear slides down my cheek.

But it must be done. It is a significant sacrifice. But in the end, it will be worth it. I tiptoe to my boss’s office.  He is studying his flat screen. His face is expressionless. I clear my throat. “Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds.”

He doesn’t reply, I repeat a bit louder, “Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds.”

He looks up, and he looks at me as if he doesn’t recognize my face. There is a slight pause, and he says, Miss Hartman? Problem?”

“No, sir, I just thought you might like a cup of coffee to start the day.”

“Coffee, why that would be great. That’s thoughtful of you.”

As Rachael turns to leave her boss’s office, a sly smile appears on her face. She realizes she will soon have Mr. Cummings under her thumb.

Rachael knocks on his door, and he says, “Come.” For some reason, Rachael is enraged by this response. She rearranges her expression to appear benign.

“Here you go, sir, enjoy. I think you will find this more than satisfactory. This is a special blend. I don’t believe you will find it anywhere in this part of the country. Let’s say it is my little secret.”

Mr. Cummings sits back in his chair and smells the coffee.  He is pleasantly surprised by the deep, rich aroma. He takes a small sip. His eyes open wide. He takes a second sip. And before you know it. He has drunk the entire cup of coffee.

“Rachael, can you come in here, please?”

Rachael is just getting into her work mode and is annoyed because it was interrupted. But she isn’t surprised. She expects no less. She knows Mr. Cummings would want more. But he isn’t going to get it today or any day soon. She would soon have him beg for more. And that will be all she wrote when that happens.

“I’m sorry if I was short with you earlier. I’m under the gun with this Murdock deal. I really need your help to get this completed before the deadline. I realize that you come in early, but I would appreciate your input and assistance. Oh, if I can have some more of that coffee, that would be awesome. Where did you buy it?”

“Oh well, that is a special blend that I get by mail order. It isn’t available anywhere around here. I only have a thermos with me. It’s quite expensive, and I can’t afford to buy it more than once a month.”

“Oh really, well, perhaps we can discuss an increase in pay after we get this Murdock deal completed.”

“Well, sir, maybe just this once. And if we get this package completed early, I would like to leave an hour early.”

Rachael sits at her desk and types the final entry into the Murdock presentation. She’s quite sure this is the best work she has done. A small smile lights up her face and then disappears as quickly as it appeared. She rechecks all the collated copies and heads towards Mr. Cumming’s office, and knocks on his office door.

“Mr. Cummings, I’ve completed the package for the Murdock presentation. I think you will find everything in order. And since I’ll be leaving early, I brought you the last cup.”

After looking over the file, Mr. Cummings calls Rachael into the office. “Well done, excellent work. And that coffee hit the spot. It really is invigorating, isn’t it?

“See you tomorrow.”

Rachael straightens up her desk and locks the desk drawer, and heads out of the office. Nods to several of her office mates. And then takes the elevator down to the lobby and walks across the street to the company parking lot.

She unlocks her car and puts on her seat belt, and pulls out onto Fairmount Drive. The next thing she knows, she’s pulling into her driveway. She realizes that she must have been driving on autopilot the whole time. She shakes her head from left to right. She tries to remember what she had been thinking of the whole time.

And then it comes to her. She had been considering the next step in her plan to move up the corporate ladder and out of her assistant position. She knows damn well she’s as smart as her boss and most of the higher-ups in her company.

The next morning Rachael gently pours Blue into her thermos, being careful not to bruise it. She turns on her computer and looks through her feed. Nothing interesting yet. And then she hears someone walking towards her. And then senses someone standing behind her. He clears his throat. She turns her head slightly and looks down at his shoes. Yes, it’s her boss. He is wearing his favorite Fioravanti Suit and Ferragamo shoes. Because of the board meeting today.

“Rachael, I want to once again thank you for your hard work on the Murdock Project. As I said, if all goes well, I expect there will be a bonus in there for you in the near future. By the way, would it be possible for you to share a cup of that magnificent ambrosia you gave me yesterday? I was up quite late, and I could really use a little boost, if you know what I mean.”

“Boost, sir?” Oh, but I explained to you how expensive it is and that I have to send away for it.”

“Oh, come on, one cup, that’s not too much to ask, Rachael, is it? Is there nothing I can do to persuade you?”

It feels as if a light has literally been turned on in her head. She turns her face slightly to hide the sly smile on her face. She takes a deep breath and says,” Well, sir, here’s the deal. If you recommend me for the open position in the New Acquisitions Division, then I will not only share my unique blend with you. I will make sure that every day you can have as much of it as often as you want it. “

“Well, I don’t know, Rachael, that’s an awful lot to ask in return for a mere cup of coffee, isn’t it?”

“Well, sir, if that’s how you see it. I guess there’s no point in discussing it any further. You know that I have been working at this company for well over ten years. And I know this business backward and forward. This company is my life. I have proven my value here.”

“Rachael, let’s talk about this further after my meeting, shall we?”

“No, sir, let’s decide now. I’m sure that I can find a position at Farrington and Sons. In fact, Mr. Farrington Sr. offered me such a position a week ago.”

“What? He is trying to steal away one of my best employees behind my back.”

“Well, that is not how I see it. He recognizes quality when he sees it. It’s up to you. You only have about five minutes before your meeting. What do you say?”

“Alright, Rachael, you have me over a barrel. Can you please get me that coffee now?”

“So, we have a deal?”

“Yes, yes, we do.”

“Good, I’ll get that coffee for you right now.”

After the meeting, Mr. Cummings walks nonchalantly into his office with the head of personnel and makes a call, and then he calls Rachael into his office.”

“Rachael, can you come here for a moment, please?”

Rachael jumps up from her desk chair so quickly that her chair falls backward onto the floor. She feels like she is floating across the room, and she knocks lightly on the door.”

“Come in, Rachael. As you can see, I have Mr. Hartley here from personnel. He has something to say to you.”

Rachael is absolutely convinced that she is about to her dream job. She holds her breath waiting to hear the good news. She is about to get everything she deserves for her years of hard work and achievement.

“Hello, Ms. Daniels, please have a seat. I have something to tell you.”

Rachael sat down and looks up expectantly. She had pictured this moment so many times. And now, here it is about to happen. “Yes, go ahead.”

“Ms. Daniels, I regret that I have to inform you that you are no longer going to be employed here at Megger. Your services will no longer be needed. You will be getting severance pay for two weeks. Right now, you are going to be escorted to your desk to collect your personal belongings. And then you will be taken to the front door. I will be collecting any keys or items belonging to the company when we get to your desk.”

Rachael almost passed out from the sheer shock at the unexpected and devastating turn of events. She makes a quick turn around and walks slowly to her desk. She is feeling as if not only her job will be terminated but that her life is being terminated.

“Alright, Ms. Daniels, let’s go through your desk, and you hand me the items such as keys and code lists. By the way, all the passwords on your computer will be wiped and changed. So, you will not be able to access this computer or any other computer you have had access to during your time here. Here is a list of items I will expect you to turn over to me now.”

Rachael puts her hand out, and the list is given to her but drifts to the ground. It almost feels like she’s having a waking nightmare. She leans down and picks up the list, and starts collecting all the items. She hands them over. “Please, can you tell me what I have done? I believe it is illegal to terminate someone’s job by providing the said employee with a reason?”

“Well, Ms. Daniels, it so happens that your boss records all his conversations in his office to avoid any possible accusations of impropriety. And we heard a conversation that sounded very much like blackmail. You demanded a promotion from your boss.”

“Demanded, no, I merely stated that I had worked many years and that I’m an excellent employee who deserves a promotion and salary increase. That’s all.”

“You also threatened your immediate supervisor to cut off the supply of his coffee and wouldn’t tell him where you purchased it. And wouldn’t give him anymore unless your demands were met. Is that right?”

“Well yes, I suppose you could say that. But it was just coffee, not drugs, nothing illegal: coffee, a good cup of coffee. Please, I need this job. It’s my life.”

“Sorry, Ms. Daniels you should have considered that before your attempt at blackmail?”

As he’s saying this, the head of personnel starts guiding her to the back entrance. He says, “goodbye.” I hope you learned a lesson here. Most companies will not tolerate this type of Funny Business. Goodbye. Ms. Daniels, good luck.”

As Rachael was given a gentle shove out the door, she yells, “but wait, it was just COFFEE.”

————————————–   

LET A SMILE BE YOUR UMBRELLA

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Harry wakes up feeling weary even though he overslept. He feels as if something is amiss. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and takes a deep breath. It smells like a wet dog in the room. Then he remembers that last night his dog, Andy escaped the backyard enclosure.

Andy made his way to a lake and took a little midnight swim. When Andy returns home, Harry is waiting up for him at the worn Formica kitchen table. He smoked one cigarette after another and drank stale coffee while staring out the kitchen window. About twelve-thirty in the morning, he sees Andy making his way up Fellowship Road. He seems in no great hurry.

Father

Harry Carberry, my dad circa 1960

Harry opens the front door and is about to give Andy the dressing down of his life when Andy suddenly pushes past Harry and runs excitedly through the house and into the front bedroom. He jumps on the bed and shakes himself off, spraying stinking lake water all over the floor and onto Marie’s bed for good measure.

Marie wakes up and says, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what is going on? Oh, I should have known. It’s that damn dog. Why didn’t you put him in the cellar until he dried off? I swear to god you love that dog more than you love your own kids. For the love of Mike, will you put him in the basement so we can all get some sleep?”

Harry grabs Andy’s collar and drags him down to the basement. Then he puts some water in his bowl and says, “Andy, you can wait until the morning for something to eat. I’m tired of your shenanigans. I’m going back to bed.”

Marie is probably praying for his heathen soul this morning as she did every morning. The house is empty because the kids are off to school. Their cereal bowls are drying on the rack. Marie left half of a grapefruit in the refrigerator for his breakfast. She cut all the sections for him and sprinkled sugar on the top. Two pieces of white bread waited patiently to be toasted.

Harry knows he’s lucky to have married Marie. She’s a loving and faithful wife and a wonderful mother. But somehow the words “I love you never make it past his lips except for the day they exchanged their vows in August 1929. He reasons that she must know he loved her because here he’s still by her side after all these years.

Harry hurriedly gulps down his cup of Joe and eats the grapefruit and toast. It’s his day off. He had his day planned. First, he’ll go hit his regular stops in the dumpsters behind all the local stores. There was Woolworth’s, Three Guys, the Acme and the 5&10. He always got a little excited. you never know what treasures are waiting to be found.
Then he’ll stop at the Chinaman’s fruit and vegetable store and see if he can get some good deals. While he was at the Mart, he’ll stop at the Penny Auction and see if he can find any treasures. He’s always amazed at what people throw away. Harry thought if anything is a sin, that sure as hell is.

Why last week he bought a whole box of the Reader’s Digest books for fifty cents. He would have enough books to read for a year. Marie said it was all trash. But he made use of everything he found and bought.

His widowed mother raised Harry, and she had taught him how to squeeze a penny until Lincoln yelled uncle, why he had built almost everything in this house from bits and pieces and scraps he had found for practically nothing.

Marie complained that they never bought anything new. But thanks to his dumpster diving, they had never gone hungry in the crash of 1929 like so many others had. They have never gone without food in their stomachs and clothes on their backs.

But the best part of the day is when he goes to the Garden State Race track and bet his $2.00 on his favorite horse. He had been studying the horses for the past week, and he knows this time, this time he will win big.

After breakfast, Harry opens the cellar door, and Andy’s waiting there patiently. Harry steps aside and lets him pass.” All right, Andy, my boy, all is forgiven. Come on, and I’ll give you some breakfast. I think today’s your lucky day because there’s some left-over chicken for you.”

Harry leaves Andy to his own devices and walks out to his 1956 Turquoise Rambler and checks the trunk to make sure he has his supplies for his treasure hunting. Yup, he had heavy gloves, a pole with a nail at the end. Just in case there was the odd rat or mouse occupying the dumpsters, and a stepladder and bags.

The hunt gets off to a good start behind Woolworth’s when Harry finds five beautiful white wedding gowns at the very top of the dumpster. He lifts them carefully out and places them in a plastic bag he keeps in his trunk. His daughter, Susie, will be thrilled when he gives her these. She just loves to sew, and she’ll prize these gowns as if they’re made of gold.

In the trash at Three Guys, he finds a set of four perfect beach chairs. His older daughters will enjoy taking them with them when they go down the shore for the weekends this summer. He can picture his beautiful daughters sitting on the beach at Wildwood, getting their Irish tan. He can’t wait to see their expressions.

As Harry makes his way toward the Pennsauken Mart, he starts reviewing the races that will be taking place after lunch at the Cherry Hill Race Track. There’s nothing that makes his heart beat faster than watching the horses take off at the starting gate and run full out around the track. Harry has a large circle of friends at the track and is known as “Smiley.” Because no one ever had a bigger smile, then he does when his horse comes in a winner.

Harry picks up some lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes, onions, and beets at the Chinaman’s vegetable store and then heads towards the auction.

There’s the usual group of people there, and he waves at the regulars. Then the first box is brought out. It’s a surprise box. So, the bidding starts low, a dime. The excitement of the crowd grows as the bidding reaches a dollar. Harry never spends more than two dollars. Sometimes there was only one thing in the box of any value. Sometimes nothing at all, but occasionally he’ll get a real winner, like that time he found a gold pocket watch. His son Hugh was thrilled when he received it at his high school graduation.

The auctioneer reaches Harry’s two-dollar limit, so Harry heads home for lunch. There would always be next week. Harry doesn’t let the occasional loss bother him. After all, when you gamble, you have to be able to afford to lose and accept that it’s all a part of the game.

As Harry pulls his Rambler into the driveway, he sees his wife Marie putting something in the garbage. He waves at her, and she flat out ignores Harry. She’s probably still mad about Andy’s midnight escapade.

Still, when he gets into the kitchen, there’s his lunch waiting for him. There are his Lebanon Bologna sandwich and a pot of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup cooking on the stove just like any other day. Marie comes into the kitchen just as the kids walk in the front door for lunch.

“Hi, Daddy.” The kids say together as if they practiced it on the way home. “Hi, Mom, lunch smells good. Umm, my favorite Chicken Noodle soup and Lebanon Bologna sandwiches, I’m starving.”

“Good morning Marie, or should I say good afternoon. I brought home some beautiful vegetables from the Chinaman’s today for you.”

“Harry, you know you shouldn’t say Chinaman. Here’s your soup.”

“Why the hell not? He’s a man from China, isn’t he?”

“Never mind, Harry eat your lunch. Will you help me hang the curtains this afternoon they should be dry by then?”

“Well, I can see later this afternoon. I ‘m going to the track for a couple of hours after lunch.”

Marie’s frowns. She decides to keep her mouth shut because she’s told Harry many times that gambling was an evil thing to do and a waste of good money. She sits down, and without looking up at Harry, she mumbles, “alright later this afternoon then.”
When Harry returns home from the track, he’s so excited he thinks his head might explode. He practically breaks the door he opens it with such force. “Marie, Marie, where are you?”

“I’m right here, Harry. I thought you would get home in time to help me hang the curtains before dinner.”

“Hang the curtains, hang the curtains. Marie, I just won a hundred dollars at the track. And I’m giving you $20.00, and you can buy new curtains for the whole house if you want. And with the rest of the money, we’re all going to go out for dinner for Sunday dinner. Now, what do you think about that?”

Well, it would be hard to judge who had the biggest smile on their faces that night at dinner. When the kids come to the table and sit down, they look from one to the other of their parents.

Finally, Eileen says, “Daddy, Mom, what’s going on?”

“Well, have I got a story to tell you, it’s all about a Mudder.”

Oh Crap

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Oh crap! Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my neck. The mosquitoes are out in full force tonight. But why, oh, why am I always the prime target? I feel the back of my neck. Something sticking out, thin, and sharp, I pull it out. It ‘s some kind of dart.

“What the hell?”

Emergency

Emergency Room-Pixabay Paulbr75/2013

That’s the last thing I remember until I wake up. I wake up slowly, thinking I must be in bed, having a bad dream. In a few minutes, I’ll wake up and find myself in my queen size bed, with my brand-new goose down comforter keeping me warm and comfy, with Ralphy lying next to me. Ralphy is my golden Lab and my best friend. I adopted him five years ago from a shelter.

My friend Oswald who volunteers at the shelter called me and told me all about Ralphy, and what a great dog he was. His owner had passed away suddenly, and no one in the family could take him, and he had been in the shelter for four months, his time was running out.

My dog, Cody, had passed away from cancer about a year ago. Oswald thought we both needed a new best friend. I was somewhat reluctant at first since I was broken up after Cody died, but I did miss having someone greet me when I get home. Someone that likes me, unlike my ex, who hates everything about me at the end of our relationship, including how I sneezed.

I went to the shelter to meet Ralphy, and he was a beautiful Golden. He has an endearing outgoing personality. Easy going live and let live outlook on life. We hit it right off.  I filled out the adoption papers right then and there.  A week later, I took him home. We have been best buds ever since.

But unfortunately, I’m not in my big, soft bed with my new down comforter. I ‘m unable to move my arms or legs, so I thought at first I was tied up, I tried to look down and see, but I can’t do that either.

Oh my god, I’m paralyzed. I hear a low, kind of soothing voice from somewhere I not sure; maybe it was a recording or from a microphone.

“You’re going to be alright. The anesthetic will wear off slowly over the next hour. In the meantime, would you please answer all my questions?

My god, I thought, I’ve been kidnapped and am now being kept captive. I can’t move my head, so I roll my eyes from left to right and then up to the ceiling. I see fluorescent lights above, and white walls, adorned by nothing.

At the foot of my bed, I think I see a white jacket, but it’s hard to tell. Because somewhere along the line, I lost my glasses I need to see at a distance. Anything beyond three feet is at a blur for me. My little brother used to call me Mr. Magoo when I was growing up. Because before lightweight glasses came out, I had the real glass type as thick as the bottom of a soda bottle. So, this was the source of the soothing voice.

“Your name, date of birth, social security number, and insurance information, please?”

“My name is Helen, Helen Randolph. My birth date is August 4th, 1984. I do not have health insurance at this time. I got laid off from work eight months ago, and I couldn’t afford to pay for the Cobra insurance. Wait, wait, why are you asking me these questions? What kind of kidnapper ask for insurance information? I don’t have any money. I already told you I am unemployed? Nobody I know has any money, what do you want from me?”

“Kidnapper? Did you hit your head when you fell? We will have to have a CAT scan to make sure you don’t have a head injury.”

“I don’t know if I hit my head, maybe I don’t remember anything past getting a small dart of some kind in the back of my neck. When will I start to be able to move?” Helen suddenly realizes that she is indeed beginning to be able to move. First, her toes could wiggle, and now her hands. And now she can lift her head.

Ms. Randolph, this is Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital in Camden, NJ. It is on July twenty-first, 2019. You were brought into the hospital after someone in the park, noticed you were lying on the ground, unconscious. A tranquilizing dart accidentally hit you. Animal control was trying to capture a brown bear that had wandered into the park from the adjoining woods looking for food. You will be perfectly fine by the end of the day.

“Thank God.”

“It’s all is a day’s work, Ms. Randolph, all in a day’s work.