To mark the Advent season, and the coming season of Christmas, the fiction department has been busy crafting the story below. Hopefully you will find some "Christmas cheer" hidden in the lines. It helps to have Christmas in your heart, and music in your soul . . . .
It was a silent night. We were in our favorite bar, poker was the game, and the hand was down to we three. Kings was peering over his cards, contemplating the deck. The Halls, both of them, had folded from the first. Noel tried to keep his poker face, but he eyed the pot like one who hadn't eaten in twelve days. Of Christmas, everyone in the room thought, since it was no more than a week away. In a Maine jury room I had met most of the players, and we had remained friends. With some people, I could be cold, but frosty these? No, man! I looked at my cards again, lacking one card for an unbeatable hand. I thought of how my fortunes could change just this once. In David's
, royal city would win the day. "Ah, good king, when she's lost, look out!" I thought to myself.
I asked, "was the last time we played in the day or evening?" Kings responded, "oh, wholly night." The big Hawaiian rolled his eyes. "The masters in this hall were the houli, and the I.V was necessary to get the rest of the sleepers awake."
I recalled the brawl which had followed the card game. "I heard the bells!" On Christmas day I was allowed to leave the hospital. The girl I was dating at the time, brought me home. I commanded, "Pronto, little town of Bethly!
"Hehm!" she pretended to clear her throat in disgust. Turning to her girlfriend, she said " I should smack the boor's head, Carol!"
My girlfriend was originally from Coventry, Carol would often recall, and I met the two of them at a regatta. I saw three ships assailing the the difficult course, and on the trailing ship I saw an off-balance girl fall in the drink.
"Here we come! Ah, Waa!" Sailing, it seemed, was not in her blood.
We were later mutually introduced while she tried not to hork. "The Harold Angels sing tonight, and I can get you backstage. I know Harold." We met some other friends at the concert. Joy, to the world known as a famous actress, but to us, just one of the guys, also joined. Joy loved Harold and his group. "Most CD's I play at moderate volume, but the Angels we have heard on high!" I liked Harold, but I thought his group unevenly talented. "What child is this? She does nothing but jingle bells!"
Annoyed, Harold would stutter, "Pat, uh, Pat, uh, pandemonium would break out if I let her go! She's the piano player's wife! And the little drummer boy would quit, too! I think he's got a thing for her . . . ."
"I call, show your cards!" Kings shouted! I wondered, as I wandered through my thoughts, if I would finally be winning the hand. Reluctant, I held back.
"Oh come! Oh come E! Man, you L-O-S-E-R!"
I threw down my Ace-high hand, which was easily beaten.
Labels: fiction, holidays, music