A Screwball Christmas in July.

The unmistakable aroma put out by an oven full of warm
cookie sheets containing mounds of dough mixed with spices
and morsels of chocolate and other tasty ingredients filled the
air as Officer Carson, Phil, and Frankie followed Mary Elizabeth
into the house. Each of the three men took a deep breath, and
the effect on each was instantaneous. Whatever anxieties had
been troubling them outside seemed to melt away, like the final
bits of snow from their boots, as they stood breathing in the
delicious scents that wafted with soothing softness to their delighted senses.
“The kitchen is right through here.” said Mary Elizabeth.
Whether they needed to follow Mary Elizabeth or just their
noses to and the kitchen is a point that could be mooted, but
were Walt Disney to animate the scene, it is likely he would
have depicted Phil, Frankie, and Ocer Carson with their feet
drifting above the door, eyes all a twinkle, as a visible wisp of
scent caressed their nostrils and, with a beckoning, smoke-like
finger making the familiar gesture that means come this way,
guided their floating forms to the font of this fragrant fomentation.
“Grandma, I brought Ocer Carson and these other two nice
gentlemen for some Christmas cookies, just like you asked me
to.”
At the sound of Mary Elizabeth’s voice, Phil blinked rapidly, like one waking from a dream or reverie. He was for a moment, uncertain of his surroundings, and for a second or two, all he could
see was a blur. Then the heaven of scent through which he had
just been drifting seemed to take on shape and substance, and
the figure of a handsome woman draped in an apron, and holding an oven mitt, came into focus before his eyes.
The voice of this woman was soft and cheery, and also clear
and quietly confident as he heard it for the first time. “Welcome
gentlemen. Merry Christmas to you all. Please come in. Officer
Carson, it’s so nice to see you again. I hope everything is well
with you.”
Phil could see Mrs. Springyton clearly by now. Her appearance
matched the quality of her voice. If asked her age, Phil could
not have guessed. His only clue was that she was old enough to
have Mary Elizabeth as a granddaughter. Her stature was about
five foot four, not an imposing presence by any means, but her bearing was upright, and her body seemed animated with strength
and energy and purpose, tempered with a dignifed calm that
made even the direct gaze of her clear blue eyes seem above
anything else friendly and reassuring. Her kitchen adorned Mrs.
Springyton the way a flowing gown of finest cloth adorned the
radiant figure of a bejeweled and sceptred queen or empress
of the Old World, such as Phil had seen in portraits framed in
costly gilt wood and hung in galleries. He had no time to verbalize these impressions in his mind. He merely began a mental
sketch and felt a yearning for his paints and brushes and a canvas. As she had first seemed to him through the mist, she was
indeed a handsome woman.
Officer Carson stood rubbing his chin. He was trying to reconcile the conversation he had just heard on the porch with the
impression he had of the two men out by the snowman. “Thank
you, Mrs. Springyton, I’m fine. Allow me to introduce my – er
friends here, this is Paul Bunyan, and this is Curly. Guys, this is Mrs. Springyton.”
Phil and Frankie replied, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Springyton.”
“Nice to meet you, gentlemen. Paul Bunyan and Curly, my what
unusual names you have. Are you by any chance familiar with
the legend of Paul Bunyan, the lumberjack, and his blue ox
Babe?”
Officer Carson interceded before Phil or Frankie could answer,
“Yes Mrs. Springyton, of course they are familiar with that, but
the fact is, we can’t stay long, I only, that is we only wanted to
see that Mary Elizabeth made it home all right.”
“Made it home all right? Why, whatever could you mean by
that? I could see all of you the whole time right out the kitchen
window.”
“You could?” Officer Carson looked out of the kitchen window,
and could see the snowman and the yard where he and Phil and
Frankie had been, “So you could. Well, that’s fine. The whole
time we were out there, you could keep an eye on Mary Elizabeth and er, and all of us. Yes, that’s, that’s fine. Makes me feel a
lot better.”
“Weren’t you feeling well. I thought you said everything was
fine?”
“Yes, that’s right, but er, when I said everything was fine, I did
mean that I felt fine, but that they, that is that– ”Here Offi-
cer Carson swallowed and paused for breath, “Everything else
wasn’t going so well, and I was worried, but what you just told
me helps me feel a lot better to know that is, that someone like
you was keeping an eye out, you see? Keeping an eye out.”
“I’m sorry Officer Carson. I don’t seem to understand you at all.”

“Well, I’ll tell you all about it later Mrs. Springyton. Right now, I
have to go, because I promised Paul Bunyan and Curly here that I
would help them go look for Moe and Larry.”
“Oh, I get it, it’s a game. You wanted me to keep an eye out for
Moe and Larry. I have time for just one round. Do you mind if I
make this one up for here in the house?”
“Well you see Mrs. Springyton, we don’t really have time–”
“Don’t worry Ocer Carson, I won’t keep you long. I still have
all this baking to do. As soon as we’ve finished, you boys can go
and look for Moe and Larry. Let me see. I have it, oh this is wonderful, I’ll pretend to be Alice Faye, and you can help me go and
Tyrone Power and Don Ameche, then, after we and them, we’ll all
gather by the piano and sing Alexander’s Ragtime Band. I hope
one of you gentlemen can play the piano, because I don’t know
Alexander’s Ragtime Band.”
Aside to Phil, Frankie said, “You hear that? Don Ameche’s in
again.”
“Yeah, I know,” Phil whispered back, “Seems like our Christmas
Eve is being visited by the spirit of Hedda Hopper present.”
“Mrs. Springyton, don’t you understand?” Officer Carson
pleaded, “This isn’t a game, I have to, that is we have to –.”
“Ocer Carson is right Mrs. Springyton,” Phil chimed in “We
don’t have time to help you look for Tyrone Power and Don
Ameche. It is very important that we take Officer Carson down
to the station to look for Moe and Larry, isn’t that right Ocer
Carson?”
“Yes-I mean no! It’s very important that I get you down to the
station to look for Moe and Larry, Curly. Or am I talking to Babe
now?”

“Babe? What Babe?” Phil looked around. “I don’t see any Babe.”
“Now, now, Curly don’t get excited. You know Babe is never very
far from Paul Bunyan.”
“Oh, that Babe. You’re right Officer Carson, I mustn’t get excited. None of us must get excited. If you want to talk to Babe,
you go right ahead. Paul Bunyan is right here, so Babe must be
nearby.” Phil turned aside to Mrs. Springyton. “It’s very important that we don’t do or say anything to excite anybody. Mrs.
Springyton. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to send
Mary Elizabeth to her room?”
“Why has she done something wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. Mary Elizabeth has been a perfectly
charming and brave little girl. I just thought that maybe it
might be best that no children were present. just in case.”
“Grandmother, do I have to go?” Mary Elizabeth asked.
“No dear, I don’t see why you should.”
“Mrs. Springyton, I agree with Paul.”Officer Carson stated, “I
think it would be best if you’d take Mary Elizabeth up to her
room for a little while, just until I get these two out of here.”
“Until who gets who?” Frankie protested. “Curly, would you listen to him?”
“Now, now Paul, no need to get excited.” Officer Carson tried to
sound soothing. “Just a slip of the tongue. What I should have
said is ‘Until we all leave together.’ ”
“That’s right,” Phil said, “Then we can all go together and search
for Babe and Moe and Larry at the same time.”
“You gentlemen all seem a little confused.” Observed Mrs.Springyton.
“No, Mrs. Springyton,” said Ocer Carson, “I’m not the one
who’s confused. If I could only make you understand without
exciting anybody–”
“You’re not? We’re not confused either Mrs. Springyton.” Phil
said “It’s Officer Carson here, I’m sure he’s been working very
hard lately, and he probably just needs a rest, and we want to
make sure, that is we–”
The sound of the telephone ringing interrupted Phil.
“Excuse me gentlemen, while I answer the telephone. See if
you can sort this out….Hello… Oh, hello Mr. Gordon… Merry
Christmas to you too…Officer Carson. Yes, he’s here, just a moment…Ocer Carson, Mr. Gordon is on the telephone, he wishes
to speak to you.”
“Thanks Mrs. Springyton.” He gave a look to Phil and Frankie
as he took the receiver, “Now we’ll see who’s confused. Hello,
Carson here…Yes, you got a hold of them, all right. What did
they say?…Yes, yes, What? No patients from the state hospital? Said they would check that no one was missing
just to make sure…head count…What!…they couldn’t find anyone missing?…all accounted for! Ask them to check again…you
did?…Still all accounted for …All right Thank you Mr. Gordon…” Officer Carson hung up from the call. He turned to Phil
and Frankie. “I’m afraid I owe you two an apology.”
“An apology?” Phil asked, “What for?”
“That was Mr. Gordon on the phone, and he just told me that
Morning Rise Rest Home is not missing any patients.”
“Did you think we stole some of them?” Frankie asked.
“No, nothing like that. You see, Mr. Bunyan,I thought that you two were, say, what is your real name anyway?”
“Me? You mean you know I’m not really Paul Bunyan?”
“Of course I know that. What do you think I am, a dope?”
“Well, not to put it too bluntly we did think that you thought
that we really were Paul Bunyan and Curly Howard.”
“You did ? No kidding? That’s kind of funny.”
“It is?” Phil asked, “Yeah, I suppose when you think about it, it is
kind of funny.”
“Yeah, well wait to you hear something else and see if you
think this is funny, ‘cause I thought that you two thought that
you really were Paul Bunyan, and Curly Howard. Except I also
thought that you sometimes thought you were Babe the blue
ox.”
“Curly Howard and Babe the blue ox?”
“Yeah, sort of a split split personality. You’ve no idea what a relief this is. I kept worrying if I was gonna be able to get you guys
to the station without any trouble. I could tell you didn’t mean
any harm, and I really didn’t like the idea of having to konk one
of you on the head with this nightstick if you got out of hand.”
“That’s some relief to me too.” Said Frankie, rubbing the back of
his head.
“Yeah, same goes for me.” said Phil. “We were worried what to
do if you snapped all of a sudden just like that and started going
after people with that thing.”
“Oh no, that would be strictly against regulations.”
“Yes, but you have to remember, at the time, we thought youwere crazy.” Phil replied.

“Oh, well that’s different.”
“Yeah, so we decided we would have to knock you down, and
then I was gonna go for help, while Curly here sat on your chest
to keep you from getting away.” said Frankie.
“No Frankie, I was going to go for help and you were to stay and
sit on his chest.”
“That’s what you said at first, but then I pointed out that you
wouldn’t know where to run for help, this being your first day
in town, and besides you’re bigger than I am and would make
a better weight, so we agreed I was gonna run for help and you
were gonna sit on his chest. Remember?”
“That’s right, so we did. Ocer Carson, Frankie was going to run
for help while I sat on your chest.”
“And shoveling snowball sandwiches down your throat if you
tried to get away.”
“Yes, that too; and shoveling snowball sandwiches down your
throat if you tried to get away.”
“I’m sure glad you guys didn’t try anything like that. Striking
an officer and impeding him in the performance of his duty,
those are serious matters. You could have gotten into a lot of
trouble.”
“Really?” Asked Frankie, “About how much trouble?”
“Oh, I don’t know, let’s see, probably ninety days, maybe six
months.”
“Don’t forget about the snowball sandwiches.” Frankie added,
like a parent helping a child figure a story problem in math.
“Hmm, yeah, snowball sandwiches. I don’t know if there’s anything in the penal code about snowball sandwiches. How many
sandwiches are we talking about?”
Frankie shrugged. “Depends on how hard you struggled.”
“I don’t give up easily.”
“No? Better make it a dozen.”
“A dozen eh? “Officer Carson cleared his throat and thought for
a moment, “I’d say to be on the safe side, we’d better make it six
months to a year.”
“You sure? A dozen is twelve. Twelve months in a year. Doesn’t
that kind of just go together?”
“You’re right. Better make it a solid year, with time off for good
behavior.”
“You hear that Curly? What a close call you almost had. I sure
would have missed you brother.”
“Missed me? What are you talking about? You would be right
there with me.”
Frankie shook his head, “Uh-uh. I only helped knock him down.
You were the one who sat on his chest and stuffed him full of
snow. They’d probably let me off with about thirty days. What
do you say Officer Carson, does thirty days sound about right?”
“Well, let’s see, subtract the time for sitting on the chest and the
snowball sandwiches, taking into account for a first offense—
this is your first offense, isn’t it?”
“Officer Carson, do I look like the criminal type to you?”
Ocer Carson looked at Frankie, held his breath a moment, and
cleared his throat, “We’ll just let that pass and say it was your first offense. So, taking everything into consideration, I would say, yes, you are probably pretty close. I think you would get
thirty days, and he would get the full twelve months.”
“With time off for good behavior. Don’t forget that.” Frankie
patted Phil on the shoulder. “We do want to encourage him to
have good behavior.”
“As you say, with time o for good behavior.”
Frankie turned both hands palms up, “You see Phil, you’d been
in there for the full year, while I’d be out in thirty days. It’s an
open and shut case.”
Phil’s face had taken on a reddish hue by now, “Wait a minute,
wait a minute. You guys are getting carried away, so just slow
down or the next thing I know you’ll have me doing
ten years in Alcatraz. Now Officer Carson, I don’t mean to doubt
your knowledge of the laws of this state, but I must ask for your
attention while I remind you of one simple fact.”
“Sure, what’s that?”
“We thought you were crazy at the time! Not only crazy, but
liable to snap at any moment, just like that, and run amok with
that nightstick of yours, taking whacks at people and causing
general panic and confusion.”
“Oh, yes, well, I suppose if you testify that you thought I was
crazy, that would be of material interest to the court. Yes, I suppose that may cause the judge to reduce your sentence.”
“Meanwhile, what about you? Would you have anything to say
that might be of material interest to the court?”
“Me? Why I could… say, I could tell the judge that the whole
thing was just a big mix-up, that you guys didn’t mean any harm
at all, and that I thought you were just as crazy as you thought I
was. Why that should make a big difference, yessiree! In fact, I think you guys might even get off with a stern warning from the
bench.”
“You hear that Frankie? A stern warning from the bench.” Phil
crossed his arms in front.
“What’s to complain about? We can’t beat that.”
“We? You were trying to send me up for twelve months, when
Officer Carson here, who ought to know, once he considers all
the facts, says I should only get a stern warning from the bench.”
“I was just trying to show you that crime doesn’t pay. You
should know better than to sit on a policeman’s chest and shove
snowball sandwiches down his throat.”
Phil’s voice was now the loudest his sense of the proprieties
would allow him to use as a guest in someone’s house, “I do
know better than to sit on a policeman’s chest and shove snowball sandwiches down his throat. The only reason I was going to
sit on his chest in the first place was if he snapped just like that,
and to hold him down while you ran to get more policeman.
As for shoving snowball sandwiches down his throat, that was
your idea. Did you get that Officer Carson? The snowball sandwiches were his idea, not mine. O all the screwball notions,
I would have never dreamed of shoving snowball sandwiches
down your throat if my best friend here hadn’t put the crazy
idea–” Phil broke o. It was as if some sudden, pressing question
had just burst into his mind.
Phil resumed in a much more quiet, calm voice. “Officer Carson,
what first gave you the idea that Frankie and I were crazy?”
“You mean you don’t know?”…

You can read the whole story in “Friends, Snowmen, Countrymen, Be of Good Cheer” available in paperback and e-book at https://www.amazon.com/dp/1708759026






Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.