Friends, Snowmen, Countrymen, Be of Good Cheer. A Tale of Christmas Time (Part 7 fb rev)

Part  Seven fb:  A heart of gold.

We left Phil, Frankie, and Officer Carson in the Springinton kitchen with Mrs. Springinton and Mary Elizabeth.  The boys had just realized the confusion they had created by donning those orange jumpsuits, and were sharing a laugh with Officer Carson, while they all enjoyed some of Mrs. Springinton’s cookies and hot cocoa.  Officer Carson had just finished a still-warm-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookie when he asked:

“There is one thing I don’t understand.  Why were you two so determined to complete that snowfamily of yours today?  When I asked you to come to the station with me, it was like I was trying to pry you away from your own child.  What was up with that?”

“Officer Carson, I’m afraid that is the second, and I hope final confusion in a series of ongoing blunders that I have been making today.  You see, last night, while I was out walking my dog Petey, I happened to be on the sidewalk in front of the Springintons house here when Mary Elizabeth’s mother brought her home from that play she was in, except I didn’t know that was Mary Elizabeth’s mother, and I didn’t know she was in a play.  What I saw was a woman dressed as a nurse carrying what I supposed to be a sick little child into the house.  Then I heard Mr. and Mrs. Springington speaking to the nurse about a big cast of some kind, and, well I imagined the sick little girls mother had been in some sort of terrible accident, and was in a big cast.  Then I heard someone say they didn’t know where Mary Elizabeth’s father was, or if he would be home for Christmas.  I thought he had skipped out on his own family.  I suppose I was wrong about that too?”

“Yes, my son-in-law is in the Navy on some kind of assignment; you, know, he can’t really tell us about it.  We only found out today that he will be coming home to spend Christmas with us.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.  Anyway, so here I was, the night before Christmas Eve, and here was this poor, sick little girl, her mother in a bed of pain after suffering some terrible injuries, and her irresponsible father nowhere to be found.  I wanted to do something to cheer the little girl up, to brighten what I thought was going to be a pretty sad Christmas for her, so I decided to build a snowman for her, and that it had to finished before it got dark on Christmas Eve.”

Officer Carson noted that:

“When I got there, you already had one snowman built and were talking about making a whole family.”

“That’s because Frankie here decided to help.  You see, I’ve never spent a winter in the north,  in fact I’ve never built a snowman, so when Frankie heard my story about the sick little girl, he offered to help, and even insisted we build a whole snowfamily to cheer her up.”

Mrs. Springinton  said:

“That is so sweet of you gentlemen.  I’m glad to have you as a neighbor Mr. Webster, and Mr. Elliot, you must feel free to stop in as often as you like.”

“Thank you Mrs. Springington.  Curly and I are great pals, so I’m sure I’ll be around.   These cookies are delicious, do you mind if I have another?”

“Help yourself.  Please, everybody, help themselves.  Officer Carson, are you leaving so soon?”

“I’d love to stay and visit with you Mrs. Springington, but I’m still on duty.  Thanks for the cookies and cocoa.”

“We should be going too, Mrs. Springington.  I want to change out of these orange jumpsuits before we create any more confusion.  Thank you for your hospitality.  You have a lovely grand-daughter.”

“Thank you Mr. Webster.  It’s too bad you didn’t get a chance to meet the rest of the family, but my husband is picking up Robert, that’s Mary Elizabeths father, and my daughters are both at the theatre.”

“Oh, you have more than one daughter in the play?”

“Yes,  my younger daughter Alice is in the show too.”

“Well, perhaps we’ll get to meet them all soon.”

“Yes, I certainly hope so.  Good day gentleman.”

“Good bye Mrs. Springington.  Thanks again.”

Phil, Frankie, and Officer Carson stepped out of the Springinton house into the late afternoon air.  As the three reached the sidewalk, Phil said:

“What a nice woman.  So thoughtful and kind.  She seems sort of dizzy at first, but I don’t know…”

To which Officer Carson replied:

“Yeah, I thought she was a little flighty when I first met her myself ; but now I think that’s just her way of setting a comforting tone, you know, to help others feel at ease.    Although she may act like she’s up in the air, I believe Mrs. Springington has both feet on the ground, and not some shifting quicksand either, but firm, steady rock.”

“I think you’re right Officer Carson, there’s something  solid behind that dizzy exterior.”

“Solid is right,  and she’s got a heart of gold.”

“A heart of gold, did you say?”

“Yeah, one of the purest.  Well, I’ve got to go the other way down the block. Nice meeting you,  Mr. Webster, Mr. Elliot.”

“Just call me Phil.”

“Or Curly, that’s what I call him.”

“Yeah, or Curly.  Just don’t call me Babe.”

“And you can just call me Frankie.”

“Okay, Phil, Frankie, it was nice meeting you.  Merry Christmas.”

To which Phil and Frankie both answered:

“Merry Christmas. ”

“Come on Curly, let’s get out of these orange danger signs before we cause any more confusion.”

“Yeah, I suppose there’s no longer any hurry on finishing the rest of that snow family.  You go ahead up to the house, Frankie, I’m going to grab that shovel. ”

“After we get out of these coveralls, maybe we could take Petey for a walk.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll be right there.”  Phil reached the snow shovel that was stuck in a deep bank of snow.  “Here’s how Paul Bunyan would swing it up and over his shoulder–”

The still, quiet afternoon air was disturbed by a clanging sound, as of a large, metal object striking something hard.

“Oops,  guess I was a little too close to that tree.”

Frankie, who had just stepped inside, popped back out.  “Hey Curly, what was that?  It sounded like my old man when he used to call the dogs in by banging a soup bone on a cast iron skillet.”

“It was just me, Frankie.  I must have hit that tree trunk with this shovel when I swung it up onto my shoulder, you know, Paul Bunyan style again.”

“Tree trunk nothing!  Look behind you Curly.”

“Why?  What did I–  Mr. Gordon!  Oh no, Frankie, come here, quick, it’s Mr. Gordon.”

“Well Paul Bunyan, you felled him with one swipe of your mighty shovel.”

“Frankie, this is no laughing matter.  I think I killed him!  Oh, poor Mr. Gordon.”

To be continued…

 

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