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Hickory Farms

Surf's up, Santa

By
Bob Markwalter

"Oh, perfect," Janine said as her father tied the Christmas tree to the top of the station wagon. "The perfect tree for the perfect Christmas."

"It'll be all right, honey," Leah told her. "Daddy will make it look better. An extra branch here, a few lights in the right places, the ornaments hung to hide the bare spots ..."

"Perfect," Janine said. "I can't wait to tell my friends that my father is actually building our tree."

"What friends?" asked six-year-old Allison. "You don't have any friends."

"I'm talking about my friends in Columbus," Janine told her with a tight smile. "The friends I'm going to talk to when I run away from Florida and go HOME to OHIO!"

Allison puckered and began to sob. Steve turned from the tree to Janine and said, "Young lady, you will not talk to your sister like that. She is upset enough about ..."

He stopped, sighed, and told Allison, "I'm sorry, honey."

"I want Sammy," Allison sobbed.

"I know," Steve said, kneeling to stroke her blond curls. "I'm sorry the leash broke at the rest stop. I - we - tried. And we mailed the fliers to the people in Tennessee. Maybe someone will see him there and call us."

"And maybe pigs will fly," muttered Janine.

"Janine, I'm not going to tell you again," Steve told her.

Leah patted his arm and told him, "Finish the tree, dear. It looks like rain."

Steve looked at the darkening clouds and turned to the car. Leah drew Allison to her leg and told Janine, "Honey, you know Daddy had to be out of town on business, and how we always buy a tree together. That's why the really nice ones were gone. But this one will be fine, you'll see."

"Daddy got to go back to Columbus on business," Janine observed, "while we were stuck in this stinking state that doesn't even have snow in the winter."

Rain began to fall. Janine rolled her eyes and muttered, "Perfect."

"Janine! Leah said sharply, and Janine sulked to the station wagon, flopped onto the back seat, slammed the door shut, folded her arms, and sat staring straight ahead. Leah bent to wipe the tears from Allison's cheeks, then bundled her into the car as the rain began to fall in earnest.

The rain had let up by the time they pulled into their driveway, but the sky was still dark. Janine muttered one more "Perfect" as she stalked into the house. Steve started after her, but Leah touched his arm. He turned, shook his head, and said to Allison, "Come on, Punkin, let's get this tree into the garage before it starts to rain again. We'll let it dry out overnight and get it up and decorated tomorrow."

"Tomorrow night is when Santa comes, isn't it?" Allison asked.

"Reindeer and sleigh and presents," Steve assured her.

A bicycle bell rang and Allison looked to the street, smiled widely, waved, and cried, "Mr. Boone, Mr. Boone!" as she ran to the curb.

Steve and Leah looked to see a man with a long white beard pull a battered old bicycle to the curb. He propped himself on one foot and held out his arms. Leah rushed into them as he lifted her into an enveloping hug.

"What the ..." Steve began.

Leah was already at the curb. The man on the bicycle held Allison in the crook of his left arm while he extended his right hand to Leah and said, "I've heard a lot about you, Mrs. O'Niell. And you, Mr. O'Niell."

Steve took his hand and said, "But we haven't heard anything about you, Mr. ...uh ..."

"Boone, I told you," Leah beamed. "Mr. Boone is my friend. He stops to talk to me. Mr. Boone lives on the beach and collects shells and paints pictures, don't you Mr. Boone?"

"I do indeed," Mr. Boone confirmed.

"You live in one of the condos on the ..." Steve began.

"No, I live on the beach!" Mr. Boone said. "I roll my sleeping bag out under the stars every evening, pull a bit of plastic over me on a night like this, rise with the sun as it comes up out of the ocean ..."

"Mommy, can Mr. Boone stay with us tonight?" asked Allison. "It's going to rain and ..."

"No!" Leah blurted. "I mean, I'm sure Mr. Boone would rather ... well ..."

Mr. Boone smiled with just a hint of sadness, set Allison on the ground, and said, "Yes, I would rather, Mrs. O'Niell. You know, this is a remarkable young lady you have here. She sees things other people don't. Now Allison, you help your father get that nice tree into the garage, and get it ready for tomorrow night. Good night, everyone."

Mr. Boone rode off down the street, turning to wave to Allison, who said, "Mr. Boone looks like Santa Claus. I thought so the first time I saw him, when he pulled me out of the street when that truck came zooming by."

"Truck?" asked Steve. "What truck?"

"The one that almost hit me," Allison explained. "Mr. Boone is very nice."

"Truck?"

"I told him the only thing I want for Christmas is Sammy back safe. Do you suppose he really might be Santa?"

Later, over a drink, Steve said, "She wouldn't make up something like the truck."

"No," Leah agreed. "Still, old men on bicycles, sleeping on the beach ..."

"We'll tell her not to speak to him again," Steve said. "After Christmas. She's upset enough about Sammy."

"Are you sure we shouldn't get her a puppy."

"I'm not sure about anything right now."

"Neither am I," Leah agreed. "Steve, I ... I miss Columbus, more than I thought I would. I've met people here, but ..."

"But you lived all your life in Columbus, your family is there, and I took you away from them three weeks before Christmas," Steve said. "I'm sorry. I had an opportunity, and I'm not sure I'd still have a job if I hadn't taken it. I'm not sure I'll have a job next month even though I did take it. But I thought we could get through anything, as a family."

"Oh, honey, we will," Leah said, laying a hand on his cheek.

"Oh, gee, romance," muttered Janine as she walked to the refrigerator.

Steve giggled, then laughed out loud, and Leah joined him. Janine slammed the refrigerator door and said, "I hate this place."

Steve was home from the office at lunchtime on Christmas Eve, and by 1 he and Leah and Janine and Allison were setting up the tree. It was, even Steve admitted, a work in progress, and it took the better part of the afternoon to get it looking something near presentable. Leah finally stood back and said, "There. Isn't that nice?"

"No," Janine voted.

"I like it," Allison said. "I like the way Daddy put in some new branches, and I like all the ornaments, and I like the lights, and I love the angel at the very top."

The angel at the top fell off.

"Perfect," Janine intoned. "It will probably self-destruct during the night."

Steve and Leah said, "Janine!"

Janine rolled her eyes and stalked out of the house, slamming the door. Allison gazed at the tree and said, "I want to invite Mr. Boone to come see our tree. Can we, can we? And can we ask him to have dinner with us tonight?"

"Oh, he's probably very busy," Steve told her.

"No he's not, he's probably very lonely down on the beach with his sleeping bag. Please, Daddy? It's Christmas, isn't it? You always tell me Christmas isn't about presents, it's about sharing love with your family and friends. And Mr. Boone is my friend, Daddy. Can we?"

Steve looked at Leah, smiled, and said, "I'll see if I can find him."

Steve found Janine at the end of the driveway. He asked her, "Want to walk down to the beach with me?"

"Why can't we live on the beach?" she asked.

"Economics," Steve replied. "But we're only a block away."

"I can't even tell my friends from Columbus we live on the beach," Janine said. "And the kids here all treat me like I'm a dork. I'll never get asked to a dance, I'll never go to a prom, I'll never get to join a club ... oh, Daddy, I hate it here."

She sobbed, and he drew her into a hug, then told her, "It'll get better. Now, walk to the beach with me."

He took her hand and they walked the block to the beach. He looked up and down the length of sand, but saw nothing of Mr. Boone and his bicycle. It was beginning to get dark. The tide was coming on high and the waves curled and broke very close to them. In the growing twilight, a surfer found a wave, stood up on his board, and rode it onto the beach. He picked up the board and started toward them.

He was blond kid, about 17, Steve judged, and good looking. He smiled as he neared them, then said to Janine, "Hey, aren't you in my geometry class?"

Janine gulped and said, "I dunno. Uh, yeah, yeah I guess I am."

"I'm Casey," the kid said. "Casey Menard. That's French. My dad's from Montreal. My friends call me Duke, because I'm nuts about surfing."

"I'm Janine," Janine murmured. "Janine O'Niell. And this is my father, Steve."

Steve shook hands with the kid and asked, "You wouldn't be Gilles Menard's son, would you?"

"Yeah, I am," the kid said. "And you must be the new guy at the office! My dad really likes you. He says you're way cool and just what the company needs here. Sir."

"Well, I think your dad is way cool, too," Steve said with a smile. "And you don't have to add the sir, Casey. By the way, you didn't see an old guy with a white beard and a bicycle out here this evening, did you?"

"Mr. Boone?" asked the kid. "No, he's never here on Christmas Eve. Rumor has it he's Santa, which would explain why he's gone. But he's here for the rest of the year, and he's one of the good guys. Used to be a surfer. He can still catch one when he wants to."

The kid smiled, flipped a little wave to Janine, and started to walk off, then turned and said, "Uh, Janine, you wanna go for a walk on the beach tomorrow afternoon? If you don't have family stuff all day? And if it's all right with you, sir ... er, Mr. O'Niell."

Janine looked at Steve, and he nodded.

"I'd love to," she said. "Maybe you could show me a little bit about surfing."

"Cool," said the kid.

"Maybe you'd like to have dinner with us," Steve said. "If you're not doing family things. We eat late, 8 or 9."

"We do brunch," the kid said. "Wow, thanks. I thought I'd never get a chance to speak to you, Janine. I mean, you just don't talk much. This is great. See you about 1?"

"Cool," said Janine.

The kid started to walk off, then turned and asked, "Hey, I forgot, where do you live?"

Steve felt Janine sag as she said, "Wilmott and Sheldon, just a block over. There's a Chevy wagon in the driveway."

"Way cool," the kid said. "A block from the beach is good. Too many people right on the sand."

Later, after Allison was asleep and Janine was watching television in her bedroom, Leah sat on the couch with her head on Steve's shoulder and asked, "What came over Janine? She actually smiled tonight, and volunteered to set the table."

"A boy," Steve answered.

"What?" asked Leah.

"That's my line," Steve said. "Surfer dude on the beach. "He's going to give her a surfing lesson tomorrow afternoon, then come to dinner."

"What!"

"The son of a very nice guy I know at the office. The kid is all right, Leah, he's fine."

They sat staring at the lights on the tree until Leah said, "I hope Allison isn't too disappointed, without Sammy. And you weren't able to find the old man."

"She'll be fine," Steve said. "I hope."

Allison woke everyone early, but Janine was not as disagreeable as usual and soon the living room was strewn with wrapping paper and presents. Leah made breakfast, with Janine and Allison helping, and by the time the dishes were laid into the sink to soak Janine looked at the clock and cried, "It's almost noon! He'll be here at 1!"

Steve and Leah picked up the paper as Janine dashed from her bedroom to the bathroom and back. Allison sat on the couch, holding Bertram, her favorite bear, and stared at the tree. She sat for a long time, then said, "I hope Sammy finds a family that loves her."

Steve felt his eyes mist and looked to see tears on Leah's cheeks. Leah went to the couch and drew Allison to her. Allison sobbed and said, "Sammy always played in the paper, remember? I miss her so much. I tried not to cry, but I can't help it."

"It's all right," Leah told her. "We're all sad that Sammy isn't here."

The doorbell rang. Steve started to get up to answer it but Janine, in a what Steve saw as a remarkably revealing bathing suit, rushed through the room saying, "I'll get it, I'll get it!"

Steve looked from the bathing suit to Leah. Leah smiled and shook her head.

"Daddy!" Janine said from the hall.

"I dunno, Mr. Boone just said it belonged here," Steve heard the surfer kid say.

"Daddy?" Janine repeated as she and the kid came into the living room. The kid was holding a leash, and on the end of the leash was ...

"Sammy! Sammy! Daddy, Mommy, it's Sammy!"

Allison was off the couch and Sammy was in her arms, licking her face, barking and jumping. The kid shook his head and said, "When I got here, Mr. Boone was standing at the end of your driveway, holding this dog. He said it belonged here, and handed me the leash."

"Oh, she does belong here, she does!" said Allison. "She's my very own Sammy, and I thought she was gone forever, and now she's home, and Mr. Boone found her!"

Steve smiled at Leah, picked the bag of wrapping paper from the corner where he had laid it, and dumped the paper onto the floor. Sammy barked, Allison squealed, and they were both soon lost in a shifting cloud of silver and red and green.

Janine and the kid stood watching for a moment, then the kid said, "Wanna go to the beach?"

"Sure," Janine answered.

"Have fun," Steve told them. "And if you see Mr. Boone, bring him home for dinner. And don't take no for an answer."

Copyright 2001, Robert A. Markwalter

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