My dad's favorite Christmas story
In 2014, I had finished my book, Brookwood Road. It was being edited for the last time.
I happened to be with my daddy during a round of his chemotherapy, and we were telling stories. He told me his three favorite stories from when we three boys were younger. Oops. I had included two of the stories in the book but had completely overlooked the story he absolutely loved to tell each year at Christmas. So, at the last minute, I wrote a new chapter, rushed to have it edited, and included it in the book. Whew.
Though he's been gone now for three years, in his honor and for your Merry Christmas, I give you the abridged version of Chapter 37 titled Christmas Voltage. For those who haven't read my books, the character Frank is based on me. Jack is based on my brother Tim. Wayne is based on my brother Russ.
Frank lay still. The sun was just coming up and filling the room with light. Snuggled under two blankets, he and Jack lay back to back in the bed for additional warmth. He could feel his brother breathing.
Janet called Frank her early bird. He was usually the first one awake every morning, regardless of the day or whether school was in session or not. When Frank woke up, he got out of bed and started his day.
He began to stir. Jack mumbled, “Be still or get up.” Frank slid from the covers to the floor, put on his bathrobe, and walked into the hall. Seeing the dark Christmas tree in the front room, he was jolted to reality. It was Christmas Eve.
Wearing slippers that were almost too small, he shuffled over to the tree and plugged in the lights. The large, multicolored bulbs came to life, and he gave a slight whew, still in awe of the lit Christmas tree despite having seen it for the past two weeks. He sat down to admire the tree with its lights, silver icicle tinsel, and glass balls. A slender red ornamental finial served as the tree topper. Wrapped Christmas presents surrounded the tree, and he reexamined the tags to find the two gifts marked “To Frank, from Mama and Daddy.” Leaning back on his arms, he soaked it all in. The live pine tree smelled wonderful, and it always seemed to smell its best in these early morning moments.
“Good morning.” Frank heard Janet’s voice behind him. “It’s a big day today. I hope you got enough sleep.”
Frank got up and walked toward the kitchen for some breakfast. He looked back over his shoulder at the tree, reaching out to touch the swinging door that led from the front room to the kitchen. As he touched the metal push plate on the door, he was jolted to reality. There was a pop, and he felt the pain of static shock between the door and his hand.
“Ouch,” he said as Tom walked into the kitchen.
“Did you get a shock?” Janet asked as Frank shook his hand and sat down at the kitchen table. Tom began to laugh to himself, and Frank knew why. Earlier that Christmas season, there had been a shocking little episode at the Lenox Square mall near downtown Atlanta.
Most all of the family’s Christmas shopping took place in Atlanta, and the boys went along on at least one of those trips each year. Frank was really too old to sit on Santa’s lap at Rich’s department store in Lenox Square now, but he’d gone along to continue the fantasy for Wayne’s sake. At least he got candy out of it—a woman dressed as an elf gave every child a rubbery, sugary jelly Christmas tree after the visit.
While waiting in line to see Santa Claus, Jack had made a fascinating discovery. If he skated his shoes on the store’s carpeting, he built up a head of static electricity. When he touched something, there was a pop and a crackle just like a lightning storm.
Frank shoved his brother. “Stop doing that. It’s bad enough we had to wear Sunday clothes to see Santa Claus. I don’t want you electrocuting me, too.”
Jack just threw back his head with insane laughter.
When they were finished visiting Santa, Tom and Janet led the boys to the children’s department.
"Watch this,” Jack said. He rubbed his slick-bottomed Red Goose dress shoes on the carpet. The more he skated, the more Frank worried. Some of the small wool fibers in Jack’s socks were beginning to stand at attention from the static building up. Jack looked at Frank with eyes wide open, grinning like a crazy boy.
“If you touch me, I’ll beat you stupid,” Frank said. “I mean it, Jack. Right here in this store, I will beat you stupid.”
Jack just stared back, smiling wickedly and laughing to himself.
No one in the family knew the poor woman’s name. If ever someone was in the wrong place at the wrong time, she was that person. Most likely she was having a nice evening out, buying Christmas gifts for the ones she loved. She was surrounded by the beautiful lights of Christmas and the joyful sounds of Christmas coming through the store’s sound system. Peace on Earth, goodwill to men.
Jack saw her coming down the wide aisle perpendicular to rows of children’s clothing. She was a heavy woman, wearing a dress and nylon stockings. Her legs brushed against each other as she walked, making a hissing sound that advertised her approach. She gave Frank a pleasant smile.
“No, Jack,” Frank said, but it was too late.
Jack stepped from the aisle and extended his finger to the woman’s backside as she passed. Tom saw the incident unfolding but was powerless to stop it. A sudden arc of electricity came from Jack’s finger and struck the woman’s backside with a loud pop.
The woman lurched forward with a yelp and a shriek. “Good Lord!” she said, stumbling for a minute in her heels, dropping a bag of Christmas gifts, and grabbing a sales rack to restore her balance. “I believe I’ve been shot!” She rubbed her bottom as Jack disappeared, laughing, into racks of clothes. Before the woman could focus on him, Frank ducked into the clothes after his brother.
The horrified woman shouted, “That was not funny!” She looked at Tom, who turned and walked away, about to explode with laughter. She straightened her skirt and picked up the packages, then gave a little whimper as she continued to steady herself.
“That was not funny!” she said again, louder. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”
From somewhere nearby, a boy’s voice rose up and over the clothes. “Merry Christmas!” Jack called out. He was lying on the floor, his eyes squeezed tight, convulsing with silent laughter.
“And Happy New Year!” Frank shouted from beside his brother.
From that day forward, Jack had to be warned before the family went into public. The warning usually came from Janet. “Do not shock people, Jack. It’s an invasion of privacy, and it’s not funny. I swear, Santa will bring you a sack of coal instead of toys.”
A few days later, on Christmas Eve, the Wilcox family started out for Acorn and the Christmas Eve church service, counting the Christmas lights and decorations along the way and singing Christmas songs together. Every family member got a chance to choose a song. And on the way home from the church service, they sang together again.
As Frank stared out the window at the Christmas lights, listening to the singing, he thought that perhaps he had the best family in the entire world. He looked over at Jack, who was grinning while he sang, and also slowly rubbing his feet on the carpeted floor mat.
It was going to be a long Christmas Day.
www.scottdvaughan.com
I happened to be with my daddy during a round of his chemotherapy, and we were telling stories. He told me his three favorite stories from when we three boys were younger. Oops. I had included two of the stories in the book but had completely overlooked the story he absolutely loved to tell each year at Christmas. So, at the last minute, I wrote a new chapter, rushed to have it edited, and included it in the book. Whew.
Though he's been gone now for three years, in his honor and for your Merry Christmas, I give you the abridged version of Chapter 37 titled Christmas Voltage. For those who haven't read my books, the character Frank is based on me. Jack is based on my brother Tim. Wayne is based on my brother Russ.
*****
 |
| The Vaughan (Wilcox) Brothers Tim (Jack), Russ (Wayne), Scott (Frank) A Christmas on Brookwood Road |
Janet called Frank her early bird. He was usually the first one awake every morning, regardless of the day or whether school was in session or not. When Frank woke up, he got out of bed and started his day.
He began to stir. Jack mumbled, “Be still or get up.” Frank slid from the covers to the floor, put on his bathrobe, and walked into the hall. Seeing the dark Christmas tree in the front room, he was jolted to reality. It was Christmas Eve.
Wearing slippers that were almost too small, he shuffled over to the tree and plugged in the lights. The large, multicolored bulbs came to life, and he gave a slight whew, still in awe of the lit Christmas tree despite having seen it for the past two weeks. He sat down to admire the tree with its lights, silver icicle tinsel, and glass balls. A slender red ornamental finial served as the tree topper. Wrapped Christmas presents surrounded the tree, and he reexamined the tags to find the two gifts marked “To Frank, from Mama and Daddy.” Leaning back on his arms, he soaked it all in. The live pine tree smelled wonderful, and it always seemed to smell its best in these early morning moments.
“Good morning.” Frank heard Janet’s voice behind him. “It’s a big day today. I hope you got enough sleep.”
Frank got up and walked toward the kitchen for some breakfast. He looked back over his shoulder at the tree, reaching out to touch the swinging door that led from the front room to the kitchen. As he touched the metal push plate on the door, he was jolted to reality. There was a pop, and he felt the pain of static shock between the door and his hand.
“Ouch,” he said as Tom walked into the kitchen.
“Did you get a shock?” Janet asked as Frank shook his hand and sat down at the kitchen table. Tom began to laugh to himself, and Frank knew why. Earlier that Christmas season, there had been a shocking little episode at the Lenox Square mall near downtown Atlanta.
 |
| Rich's at Lenox Square, circa 1960s |
While waiting in line to see Santa Claus, Jack had made a fascinating discovery. If he skated his shoes on the store’s carpeting, he built up a head of static electricity. When he touched something, there was a pop and a crackle just like a lightning storm.
Frank shoved his brother. “Stop doing that. It’s bad enough we had to wear Sunday clothes to see Santa Claus. I don’t want you electrocuting me, too.”
Jack just threw back his head with insane laughter.
When they were finished visiting Santa, Tom and Janet led the boys to the children’s department.
"Watch this,” Jack said. He rubbed his slick-bottomed Red Goose dress shoes on the carpet. The more he skated, the more Frank worried. Some of the small wool fibers in Jack’s socks were beginning to stand at attention from the static building up. Jack looked at Frank with eyes wide open, grinning like a crazy boy.
“If you touch me, I’ll beat you stupid,” Frank said. “I mean it, Jack. Right here in this store, I will beat you stupid.”
Jack just stared back, smiling wickedly and laughing to himself.
No one in the family knew the poor woman’s name. If ever someone was in the wrong place at the wrong time, she was that person. Most likely she was having a nice evening out, buying Christmas gifts for the ones she loved. She was surrounded by the beautiful lights of Christmas and the joyful sounds of Christmas coming through the store’s sound system. Peace on Earth, goodwill to men.
Jack saw her coming down the wide aisle perpendicular to rows of children’s clothing. She was a heavy woman, wearing a dress and nylon stockings. Her legs brushed against each other as she walked, making a hissing sound that advertised her approach. She gave Frank a pleasant smile.
“No, Jack,” Frank said, but it was too late.
Jack stepped from the aisle and extended his finger to the woman’s backside as she passed. Tom saw the incident unfolding but was powerless to stop it. A sudden arc of electricity came from Jack’s finger and struck the woman’s backside with a loud pop.
The woman lurched forward with a yelp and a shriek. “Good Lord!” she said, stumbling for a minute in her heels, dropping a bag of Christmas gifts, and grabbing a sales rack to restore her balance. “I believe I’ve been shot!” She rubbed her bottom as Jack disappeared, laughing, into racks of clothes. Before the woman could focus on him, Frank ducked into the clothes after his brother.
The horrified woman shouted, “That was not funny!” She looked at Tom, who turned and walked away, about to explode with laughter. She straightened her skirt and picked up the packages, then gave a little whimper as she continued to steady herself.
“That was not funny!” she said again, louder. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”
From somewhere nearby, a boy’s voice rose up and over the clothes. “Merry Christmas!” Jack called out. He was lying on the floor, his eyes squeezed tight, convulsing with silent laughter.
“And Happy New Year!” Frank shouted from beside his brother.
From that day forward, Jack had to be warned before the family went into public. The warning usually came from Janet. “Do not shock people, Jack. It’s an invasion of privacy, and it’s not funny. I swear, Santa will bring you a sack of coal instead of toys.”
A few days later, on Christmas Eve, the Wilcox family started out for Acorn and the Christmas Eve church service, counting the Christmas lights and decorations along the way and singing Christmas songs together. Every family member got a chance to choose a song. And on the way home from the church service, they sang together again.
As Frank stared out the window at the Christmas lights, listening to the singing, he thought that perhaps he had the best family in the entire world. He looked over at Jack, who was grinning while he sang, and also slowly rubbing his feet on the carpeted floor mat.
It was going to be a long Christmas Day.
www.scottdvaughan.com
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