Gilbert Morris (7 page)

Dad, I'd like for you to meet Dr. Charlene Delaughter. Charlene, this is my dad, William.”

“I'm so happy to meet you, Willie. I'm Charlene.”

Willie Raines smiled and put out his hand. When the tall woman standing before him took it, he said, “I think I see some of your dad in you, Miss Charlene.”

“People always said I resembled Dad.”

“Well, you two sit down. I want to hear all about your trip, and I want to hear about your dad. We were really close when we were in Europe.”

“I know. I brought a whole stack of his letters with me that he mailed from there. Some of them by the old V-mail. You remember them?”

Willie took the packet tied with a black ribbon, and after he had loosened it, he picked up one of them. “I had forgotten about these. Brings back old times.”

“Dad was a great letter writer.”

“I remember that. He was always scribbling away, even when the bullets were flying overhead.”

Charlene smiled and shook her head. “I don't know if I should let you read these or not, Sergeant. They might make you swell up with pride. He had a lot of wonderful things to say about his squad leader.”

The sunlight filtered through the window to Willie's left. It highlighted his face so that the lines of age became more evident. His eyes half closed, and his lips moved for a moment silently. Then he brightened up and said, “I remember your Dad got ahold of some eggs somewhere. Probably stole them from a farmhouse. It was on the day before I got punctured. There were six of us there and five eggs, so when your dad brought them back, there was some argument on how to divide them up. Everyone wanted an egg that day. We were starving, just about. Nothing but K rations for two or three days.”

“How did you do it, Dad?”

“Well, Billy Bob Watkins laughed at us and told us the answer. ‘Just scramble 'em,' Billy Bob said. So that's what we did. It's been a long time, but I still remember how good those eggs tasted. I don't know where he got it, but Lonnie Shoulders had some hot sauce, a little bottle of it. He just about baptized his. I tried a little of it and near about burned my tongue off. Chief always did like hot stuff like that.”

“We're off to see Pete Maxwell's family in a few days, Dad. Charlene's got an open date.” He grinned and said, “Pretty nice to have a private plane just to chauffeur me around. Makes me feel important.”

Willie put his eyes on Charlene and said, “This young whippersnapper behaving himself?”

“Pretty well, Willie. Why? Did you think he wouldn't?”

“No. I knew he would. He's a good boy. Always has been.”

“I don't know about that,” Ben said quickly. “I can remember a few times you didn't seem to think so.”

“You were just a boy, and you missed out on a lot. I don't know if he told you, Charlene, but I was in pretty bad shape a lot of the time, and Ben had to take over at the newsstand. He missed out on stuff like playing ball and going on camping trips with the Scouts. I never have forgiven myself for that.”

“Don't think about it, Dad.”

Charlene said quickly, “I wish you would use your parental authority to make this son of yours do something.”

“What's that, Doctor?”

“I'd like to read the story he's writing. I know it's not finished yet, but he won't show me a word of it.”

“I don't let anybody see my work until it's perfected.”

“Oh, you're a prima donna, are you?” Charlene made a face. “I hate you artistic types.”

“Well, you scientific types are no better. You don't understand the imaginative spirit.”

The two stayed for more than an hour, and there was a great deal of laughter in the room. Mabelene Williams, the black nurse, came down once and said, “You folks makin' a lot of noise. You gonna disturb the other patients.”

“It's all right, Mabelene,” Willie grinned. “This lady's a doctor. She's giving me treatments.”

Mabelene looked doubtfully at Charlene. “Is that right? You're a doctor?”

“That's right, but I wouldn't do much good here. I'm a pediatric surgeon.”

“Is that right! Well, I guess it's all right if you wanna make a little noise. You feelin' all right today, Sergeant?”

“Feelin' real good, Mabelene. By the way, where'd you get that name of yours? I never heard it before I met you.”

“My mama named me after some eye shadow. I do think it's pretty.”

“It is a nice name,” Charlene said quickly. “And I've never known anybody named Mabelene before either.”

“I'm one of a kind,” Mabelene grinned and left the room.

“She's a mighty good nurse. Has to put up with a lot out here,” Willie said.

“We'll come and see you after we get back from visiting Pete's family.”

“He was a good boy, good soldier.”

As the pair left, Charlene said, “I like your dad. It must be hard being cooped up in there.”

“I wish I could keep him at home, but I'm never there.”

“Now don't go off on a guilt trip about that. I know you come to see him as often as you can.”

“No, I don't.”

Charlene cast a quick glance at Ben but said nothing as they walked toward the car.

* * *

Two days later Ben was sitting in his office when his editor popped in. Sal Victorio stood for a moment watching Ben, who had his chair tipped back and was staring up at the ceiling. “What are you doing?” Sal demanded.

“I'm writing. Can't you see? I'm creating words, making up a story.”

“You're asleep is what you are. How's that story on Christmas coming?”

“Fantastic. Going to be the best editorial on Christmas ever written.”

Sal stared at his star reporter then grunted and left.

Ben opened his eyes and leaned forward and put his hand flat on the desk. He had been lonely for the past two days, and the story had not gone well. He slowly reached over, picked up the phone, and dialed a number. He asked for Dr. Delaughter, and by some miracle he got her. “What are you doing?” he said.

“I'm working. What are you doing?”

“Killing time. Not writing a story.”

“You have writer's block?”

“There's no such thing.”

“There's no such thing as writer's block? I thought there was.”

“Did you ever hear of a plumber's block? Did you ever hear a plumber say, ‘Oh, I can't unstop that sink. I just don't
feel
it!' Did you ever hear of dishwashing block? No. There are no blocks. Just lazy people. I guess that's what I am.”

“Well, I've got the cure for it. I've got a chore for you. I was going to call you.”

“For me? You want me to hand you the scalpel while you do the operating?”

“No, thanks.” Charlene's voice sounded amused. “I'm going to the children's ward at six o'clock tonight. I want you to go with me.”

“Sure. Be glad to.”

“And play Santa Claus.”

Ben reared back. “Play Santa Claus! No way!”

“You've got to do it. I've got to have a Santa Claus to pass out the gifts.”

“I'll pass out the gifts, but I'm not putting on a red suit and stuffing a pillow in.”

“Yes, you are. You're bored, and I've got a job for you. Come on, Ben.”

“Charlene, Santa Claus is everything I've hated about Christmas.”

“Pretty please.”

“No! Don't ask me. Good-bye!”

Ben hung up and stared at the phone, then got up and walked across the room to stare out the window. He looked down at the people scurrying around, and as he did, something seemed to turn over within him. He stood there for a long moment struggling then finally shrugged. “It's not as bad as getting stuck in the eye with a sharp stick,” he muttered. Going back, he picked up the phone and managed to get Dr. Delaughter again.

“All right. Ho, ho, ho. I'll be Santa Claus. Where do you want me to meet you?”

* * *

“Why, Santa, you look so nice.”

Charlene was waiting outside the restroom where Ben had gone to put on his Santa costume. He stood there in the red suit with the black boots, the phony beard that didn't fit and the cap that kept slipping off.

“I feel like an utter fool,” he muttered.

“You're a fine Santa Claus. Now, come along. I'll go in and give you an introduction, then you come sweeping in. Let me hear you say ho, ho, ho.”

“Ho, ho, ho.”

“That's terrible! Give it all you've got. A big ho, ho, ho!”

“Ho, ho, ho!” Ben bellowed. “How's that?”

“Well, it's loud.” Charlene laughed. “Come along. You're going to love it.”

Charlene pushed a large laundry cart filled with gaily wrapped packages. Ben followed her down the hall, and he turned into a set of double doors, heeding her warning to wait until he heard his cue. “Break a leg, Santa.” She punched him in the padding on his stomach, then entered the ward.

Ben stood there listening as she greeted the children. She sounded happy and cheerful, and then he heard her say, “And we have a special visitor tonight who's come all the way from the North Pole. I know it's not Christmas, but Santa couldn't wait to come and see you. Come in, Santa!”

Ben shoved through the doors, glanced around at the beds that lined the wall, and then bellowed, “Ho! ho! ho! Merry Christmas!”

The children returned his greeting. Ben looked around and saw the thin bodies, some of them bandaged, all of them watching him. “Well, it's mighty cold out there, but I just couldn't wait to get here and see you kids.”

He went to the first bed and said, “Dr. Delaughter here is going to help me. She's not as pretty as some of the elves that I have making toys up at the North Pole, but she'll have to do. Give me the present for this fine young lady, Doctor.” He took the present and held it in one hand. “What's your name, sweetheart?”

“Flora Belle.”

The little girl was black and nothing but skin and bones. Her thin face made her eyes look enormous. “Well, Flora Belle, Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you, Santa.” Flora Belle took the package and said, “Do I have to wait 'til Christmas?”

“No, tonight's Christmas here. Open it right now.”

Flora Belle tore the wrapping off and looked up with a shy smile. “It's just what I wanted. A Barbie doll just like me.”

“Santa always knows, Flora Belle. What are you going to name her?”

“I'm going to name her Charlene.”

“That's a good name, honey. You stick with it.”

For the next hour Ben and Charlene went from bed to bed. Charlene had brought more than enough presents, so they made two complete rounds. Finally Charlene said, “All right, now, that's all the presents, but I'm going to tell you a story. Everyone keep your wrapping paper quiet and look at me. It's the best story you've ever heard. It began one night a
long time ago when a man and a woman came looking for a room at an inn.”

“I know this story,” Flora Belle said. “It's about Jesus.”

“That's right, Flora Belle. It's about Jesus.”

Ben listened as Charlene quoted the Christmas story from Luke word for word, pausing to give it special dramatic touches. Finally, when she was through with the story, the ward was very quiet.

“And now I want you all to remember,” Charlene said, “Jesus was born into this world just like you were. He came here because He loved you. Right now you're sick, but He's your best friend. I want you all to remember that no matter how bad you feel, Jesus is with you.”

Ben bowed his head as she began to pray, but as she prayed he lifted his eyes and looked around the room. These broken bodies and some broken spirits had been cheered for a moment. Being Santa wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

“Come on. We're going to eat.”

“You've got an Italian restaurant lined up?”

“No. I've got my apartment lined up. I'm a good doctor, but I should have been a cook. I'm much better at it.”

Ben laughed. “I'll remember that when I want to put you down.”

The two went to Charlene's apartment, where she grilled two steaks and baked potatoes while Ben fixed a salad. They sat down and Charlene said, “Do you want to ask the blessing, Ben?”

Ben was silent for a moment then he shook his head. “I'm in no condition to do that.”

“Then I'll do it. Lord, we thank You for this food. We thank You for the time we had with the children. Bless every one of them and bless Ben that he might open his eyes to see Jesus. Amen.”

Ben looked up and smiled. “You never give up, do you, Doc?”

“I never do. Neither does God. Now buck into that steak.”

The two ate, and afterward he helped with the dishes, such as they were.

“Now, you want to see
It's a Wonderful Life
?”

“That thing keeps cropping up! It's an American icon.”

“It gives people hope, I think. Nothing wrong with having hope, but I won't make you watch it again.”

The two of them sat on the couch and talked for a long time. Ben found himself telling Charlene things that he had never told anyone. Finally he glanced at his watch and started. “It's nearly eleven thirty!”

“My, how time goes by when you're having fun,” Charlene said.

“I'll get out of your way.” Ben rose. She got his coat, he put it on, then he turned to face her. She was looking at him strangely, and a silence came between them. They felt something warm but unsettling lay between them. Ben saw in the woman that stood before him an emotion that strongly worked and left its fugitive impression on her face. But he thought the urges of a lone man, perhaps, always moved like
a compass to a certain woman, and this woman was like none that he had ever known. She held his glance as direct as his own, and he could not hide the desire that was in him. She was near enough to be touched, and he wanted to touch her, for her nearness sharpened all his long-felt hungers. She was, he recognized, a woman with fire and spirit and yet with a soft depth. He wondered if she revealed these things on purpose or if he dreamed them. She smiled, her expression frank then soft. There was a sweetness in her, and Ben Raines realized that no other woman had stirred him as this one. For one instant they were close to something, but then suddenly she put out her hand and he took it.