Purcell, John

Digital Commons @ Butler University

MANUSCRIPTS 11Once Upon a Christmasby John PurcellThe rain had fallen all morning. making the road to the cemetery at HolstonRidge a sea of mud that mired the truck down to Its axles. Whenever thejarring motion stopped and awhirling whine echoed through the surroundingwoods. the guards would first motion at Alfred with the stocks of their rifles."Get off the flatbed new, Alfred The wheels is calling your name," theysaid, as the other convicts laughed.Alfred, huddled near the edge of the flatbed, would look up slowly at theguards. his gaunt face twitching around the corners of his eyes and mouth."You know, I was just gettln' ready to push," he said, and swung hismanacled legs over the edge ofthe flatbed, pushing offwith his belly. His feetlanded wrong in the mud and he fell flat on his face, The convicts screamedwith laughter."Somebody help poor little Alfred," one of them said, "God knows thepoor bastard can't do nothln' by himself."Trembling from the December cold, Alfred pulled himself from the thicksludge and began to force his shoulder against the rear of the truck in anawkward bobbing motion. The guards pushed a few other convicts off thetruck."Help him out," they said, "and try not to make him look any more foolish."Once freed, the truck rattled on up the road, grinding to a stop outside ofthe Sullivan County cemetery gates. The convicts crawled off the flatbed andassembled themselves in a row In front of the guards. One of them spoke."Can't any of you felias tell us why we's out on a work detail the day 'forChristmas? Dlggin' graves ain't nothing to be doing on Christmas Eve," hesaid, brushing the dried mud from his pants leg."Don't seem like to me you got awhole lot of say in the matter. Seems liketo me you oughta do asyou're told and shut up about it," answered one ofthe guards. fingering the trigger on his rifle "Sornebody's gotta dig themgraves. You ain't gonnaget no grave digger to do it, not this time of year. Thesooner you get 'em done, the sooner we can get outa here"Another guard went back to the flatbed, returning with an armful of rustyshovels."I hear we's dlggln' graves for them dead children," one of the convictsoffered. "Ain't that what we's doin', Mr. Nathan?"The guard with the rifle cleared his throat and spat on the ground. "Is thatwhat you hear, boy? Who you been talkin' to?""Nobody special," the convict answered, his voice raspy. "Just talkln''round the yard. I just heared we was goin' to dig the gr aves for them childrenkilled in that fire. Maybe I heared wrong.""Yeah, maybe you did," the guard said. He walked closer to the convict andspoke to him in a low voice. "And maybe you oughta be a little careful aboutwho you listen to. Sometimes things ain't meant to be heard" The convict12 MANUSCRlrTSstepped back away from him, nodding slightly. The other guard beganhanding out the shovels to every other man In the line."Now, then, gen-tle-men," the guard with the rifle said, "we have beenordered by the warden himself to dig four graves up along the far north ridgethere before dark this evenln'. Now ifyou good gen- tie- men cooperates, wecan get done sooner, and get outta this goddarn' cold and get offa thisgoddarn' ridge. Any of you find that unappealin'?"A few scattered" nahs" and" uh-uhs'' broke the silence. "Good," the guardcontinued," 'cause we's aheadin' up there right now. Henry, get our goodfriend Alfred there to carry the lime. He can be our 'Ilrner'." The other guardhauled a forty pound bag of lime out of the truck and tossed it to Alfred Thebag caught him full in the chest and knocked him to the ground. They alllaughed at him"Now Alfred," said the guard in his best schoolmaster voice, "since you'sthe best at mental work, we'll let you square off the graves so's we knowwhere to dig. All you gotta do Ismake a line with the lime. Think you can dothat?"Alfred nodded and said,"Sure can I've done it for years." He stood up withthe bag and positioned it on his shoulder. "I dug plenty graves."The guard stared at him. "I'm sure you have, boy." He faced the otherconvicts, and smiled a sick grin. "Lead the way, Alfred. We'll follow." Thegroup watched as Alfred hobbled along the path through the cemeterygates.As they reached the top of the north ridge, the wind became colder andmade the cedars crackle in the bitter air.Theguards ordered Alfred to squareoff four graves under asmall grove of cedars, all in a row. Alfred reached intothe lime bag and spread out four perfect rectangles, each the exact duplicateof the other, each spaced a proper five paces apart After he had finishedlining the last grave, he walked over and placed the bag at the feet of theguard."All done," Alfred said quietly as he stood in front of him "Whatta I donow?"Theguard grabbed a shovel from one of the convicts and handed it to him"You show us how to dig" he said.Alfred took the shovel and walked to where he had outlined the final grave.Laboriously he began to chop off sections of turf with his shovel and tossthem to the side."What the hell ya watchin' for," the guard yelled at the convicts. "If agimplike him candig that good, it shouldn't be no problem for the restofya Gettoworkl"The convicts dug at the graves until long shadows passed across the ridgefrom an encroaching storm. Alfred had dug at least six feet down now, andstood at the bottom of the grave while he worked to smooth the walls downwith his shovel Overhead the skies darkened as the howl from the windblocked out the sound from the other convicts. He felt the single cold rain-drops begin to sting the back of his neck more and more frequently untilsuddenly the sky opened a flow ofice-cold rain on him. He heard the guards'cries of "Get out of the graves," but the downpour made the walls of thegrave so slippery he had difficulty getting a foothold, even with the shovelBy now the sky was so dark that he couldn't see out of the grave and hescreamed for someone to help him But his frail voice couldn't be heard overthe roar of the storm. As he made one final attempt to get out, he sensed thatthe walls were beginning to crumble around him Terrified, he began toscramble madly at one wall while the other slowly oozed around his ankles,MANUSCRIPTS 13locking him in place. He tried to squirm loose, but a heavy slab of dirt fell onhis hip and pinned him down. A long. agonized wall escaped from his throatas the mud slowly covered him over.Above. the guards yelled for the convicts to cover the graves with canvastarpins, shouting for the men to line up so they could begin the descent downthe hill One of the guards realized that Alfred was missing and ran over to thegrave. By this time Alfred had been completely covered by the collapsingwalls so that in the darkness the grave appeared empty. The guard shoutedto his companion."Henry! Alfred ain't here! I can't find him""Whatta you mean, you can't find him?" the other screamed, waving hisrifle furiously in the downpour. "He's In the grave!""Nah, he ain't in here. I tell ya," said the first guard, "he musta got out."The downpour increased, falling so heavy that it formed small streamsaround the guard's feet."Christ, it don't matter anymore." the other guard yelled. "We just gottaget outta here now or we ain't never gonna get that truck back to the prison.We'll come back and find that gimp later. He can't go far."The guard with the rifle motioned for the line of prisoners to moveforward Thegroup fled quickly down the hill as the winds roared through thepines overheadAlone in the grave. Alfred found that he was quickly suffocating from themud creeping into his nostrils. He felt the mud constricting around his bodylike some boa squeezing the lifeblood out of him Violently he wriggled hisbody, twisting his limbs this way and that to try and weaken the bond ofheavy earth. He rotated his head as if he were a blind worm working hiswayto the surface. feeling with his nose. filled with fetid odor of the clinging mud.Finally his face broke through. Next his shoulders shook loose, followed byhisarms and shortly thereafter, hishands.With them loose, hewas able to digout his hips and legs, and with much difficulty, he managed to stand.The rain had ceased, and the air had become much colder. A few solitarystars appeared through the clouds above. flickering brightly. For a momentAlfred stood in utter amazement, because he felt as if God had given himrebirth from the grave so that he might fulfill some mighty purpose. Neverbefore in his life had he felt that his existence had meaning. but now he knewit with a certainty that transcended all understanding. God would not havesaved me from this grave. Alfred thought, unless he had planned somewonderful things for my life.With a new-found strength, he dug out the half-buried shovel and stuck itdeep into one of the more sturdy walls of the grave. Using it as a stand, hecrawled onto it and hoisted himself up over the edge of the hole. Once out,he kneeled in front of the grave and prayed."Heavenly father," hewhispered, "who hascarried me from my grave andfreed my soul from bondage. I thank you"At that moment Alfred looked up, and it finally dawned on him that hewasalone. Notonly hadGod freed him from the grave, but he had freed him fromprison as weill He struggled up from his knees and shouted to the heavens."God, I am free now! I am finally freel" He stared at the forebodingblackness of the woods, through which he could see the distant lights ofTrubury, asmall town about amile and a half away. The light seemed to him anoracle. a shining beacon calling him forth to perform miracles, just like Jesushad done. And why not? Hadn't both he and Jesus been raised from thedead? Hadn't both he and Jesusbeen reviled and persecuted? Alfred beganto shake spasmodically from the cold, his mind racing from inference to14 MANUSCRIPTS/conclusion. As hisvision blossomed, he muffled an almost hysterical laugh, asmuch from some perverted joy as from unearthly fear. His realization wascomplete. He was the Christ! All his life he had wondered why he hadsuffered so,why he had been born deformed, why he had no father. God washis fatherl All of the pain had been nothing but a trial And he was victorlousl"Hosannahl" cried Alfred to the darkness. "Blessed be he who comes inthe name of the Lord!" He fell on his knees again, his arms stretched out Insupplication to the heavens. "My father," he wept, "my father, your will bedone."A wind stirred the pines, and he was certain that the groaning of the limbscarried the voice of God Over and over he heard them creak, "Go, go, go."And from that instant, he knew what his Father wanted him to do."Yes, yes," said Alfred, "I will go to Trubury, and proclaim Your glory. Onthis most holiest of nights, I will go to Trubury and tell them that Jesus isborn-in mel Thy will be done!" Vaulting clumsily off his knees, he crawledacross the muddy ground and pulled himself up by acedar branch. Franticallyhe scuttled down the hill toward the sleeping town of Trubury.Trubury lay stiller that night than had the town of Bethlehem so manycenturies before it The sky had begun to cloud over again and a soft dustingof snow drifted down upon the streets, the occasional breeze making theflakes dance about in spinning wind-devils under the streetlights. Alfred wastrudging through a near-by field, one that sat behind the First EvangelicalEpiscopalian Church, singing Christmas carols in his rough, off- key voice.Upon reaching the locked front doors of the church, he noticed that thecustodian had left open asmall basement window to the left of the steps. Hegot down on his hands and knees and, forcing the window open wideenough to enable his body to pass through, crawled into the basement roomDown in the basement was a storehouse for the church, containing stacksof hymnals, classroom chalkboards, folded chairs, and in the corner, a largestack of robes. Stili trembling from the bone-numbing cold, Alfred walkedover to the corner and picked up one of the robes. It was obviously acostume from a passion play of sorts; it was a long. flowing red robe with agolden- tasseled cord around the waist, a regal robe worthy only of a man ofgreat stature. Underneath the robe sat a long. straight white beard with littlehooks that fit around the ears.Alfred let out a cry of delight and immediatelyput on the beard and slipped on the robe, which bunched around his anklesbecause of its great length, causing the border of the robe to drag along theground like a royal train. Now he felt he truly looked the role of messiah. Nowhewas truly ready to march through the streets ofTrubury and proclaim thegood news of his coming to the world Their Redeemer had returnedlStruggling back out through the basement window, Alfred headed downthe sldestreet where the church was located to the main street of the town,singing every Christmas hymn he knew. Lights In the houses went on, dogsbarked at him, people yelled "Shut upl" at him from their bedroom windows,but on he sang. punctuating the end of each song with the declaration, "Theklngdom of heaven Isat handl" His uneven gait made many people presumehim drunk, and they greeted him with cries of "Drink a toast for me, St Nick"as he passedHaving reached the end of town, he sat down on the curb and restedThere. across the street from him, stood the Bollingbrook Children's Home,where he had spent a good part of his childhood accepting scorn andridicule. Part of the upper floor appeared to have been damaged by fire.Alfred recognized Immediately the cause of the fire-God's wrath. Yes,thought Alfred, the sins of fathers visited on the children, so be it. And then,MANUSCRIPTS 15shivering in the chilling night air, he understood. He knew the reason theyhad to dig the graves. For the children who died, didn't the man say? In thefire? A faint wave of pity washed over him, and grew, until he was over-whelmed with the sorrow of it But in that sorrow an idea cut through, an ideathat glowed in his forehead somewhere behind his eyes like a bright coal."Father," whispered Alfred, "give me your strength. Give me your strengthto raise them children from the dead I have suffered for this, Father. Youknow how I have suffered. Glorify me now, Lord. Glorify me in front of thempeople, so's they'll know I'm your son." He knelt in front ofa fire hydrant andrepeated the words, "Please, father" for a few minutes; then, with a newsense of resolve, he rose and walked across the street to the home.From abedroom window, two of the children in the orphanage saw Alfrednearing the front door. One of the children ran screaming" SantaClaus.SantaClaus!" down the hall corridor, waking the other children and Mrs. Aster, thehome guardian. She grabbed the little boy by the waist and shook him"What's gotten into you, Jimmy? Is this some kind of a joke?""No, Mrs. Aster," Jimmy said breathlessly. "I saw him.""Don't you lie to me now," she said, sticking her stern gray face a fewinches away from his. "or I'll wallop you good.""It ain't no lie, ma'am" he said, his excitement brought down by the tight-ening grip she had on his shoulder.At that moment, a loud pounding sound rang through the house."That's him now," jimmy said, "I know it isl""It ain't nothin' of the kind," she answered, "now get back into bed."Jimmy, and the other children who were carefully peeking out the doors oftheir rooms. followed Mrs. Aster's instructions until she turned and headedfor the door. Then they quietly followed her.When she answered the door, Alfred burst into the room, pushing heraside. "Woman," he said loudly, "before you you see your salvation!" Thechildren giggled softly behind her."You get outa here right now or I'm calling the police," Mrs. Aster hissed athim" And you," she said, turning to the children behind her back, "get to bed,or there's gonna be hell to pay.""Woman," he continued, "the kingdom of hell iswithin you" The childrengiggled again. "And don't you yell at them children. Didn't I once say, let thelitt!e ones come to me?""Such blasphemous talk," she said, "to be talkln' in front of the children. Youain't Jesus.And on Christmas. rm calling the pollee!" Sheturned to walk away.He grabbed her by the arm, "Woman, you don't understand, do you? Icome to raise the dead."She looked at him fearfully. "You're a crazy man. You burst In here in themfunny clothes. and say hurtful things about the children, God rest' em. You'rea crazy man!" She struggled to release herself from his grip."Tell the children I have a story to tell them, my story, the story of the newJesus,"Alfred said, his body trembling with emotion."Aren't you Santa Claus?" asked Jimmy, peering around the parlourcurtains."He ain't SantaClaus.he ain't Jesus.he ain't nothing." screamed Mrs. Aster,"he's just a dirty old crazy man!"Alfred yanked Mrs. Aster toward him, choking her with the crook of hisarm."Now, children," he said, his breathing heavy with each word, "I'll tell you astory. Once upon a Christmas the Son of God was raised from his grave togive God honor. Before he died he was a cripple, a nothing." he eyed Mrs.16 MANUSCRIPTSAster furiously, "but after God raised him from the dead, he adopted him asHis Son." The room was silent except for the monotonous sound of agrandfather clock. Alfred's face beamed brightly."I am that Son. I can raise them children who died here from the dead.""It's a lie," Mrs. Aster said, "a filthy lie!" Shewrenched herself free from hisgrip and ran out the door screaming for help."Come, children," Alfred said, "let's go and do God's will" He walkedslowly out the door and across the lawn. Mrs. Aster had managed to wake aneighbor who accompanied her back to the house with a shotgun."There, that's him," she said franticaliy, "that's him He's the crazy manwhoassaulted me,""Don't try to go anywhere," the neighbor said, "or you'll be sorry."Alfred walked directly toward the man with the gun."You better stop, mister, or I'll shoot you," the man said, "I swear to God IwilL""You swear to me?" Alfred smiled, and reached forward to grab the barrelsof the shotgun. The blast from it blew off his face, and his body flew throughthrough the air like an unstrung marionette."Jesus Christ," the man said, his hands shaking. his eyes giazed, "JesusChrist, JesusChrist""He said he could raise them children, them poor dead children. But it wasa lie, a stinking lie." Shebecame hysterical. "He couldn't raise them children,nobody can, nobody ... " Her words broke off into a muffled sob.A small voice came from behind her. "Mrs. Aster ... "She turned quickly to see a young boy standing behind her. His eyessearched her with ali the hurt of innocence betrayed."Why wouldn't you iet him try," he said.The Non-Sexist Traffic Jamby Beth Hampton"Move your car or I'll move it for youl" the angry person depersoned. "Youhave awful personners, young person," exclaimed the grey-headed oldperson. "Why don't you try to be a little more huperson," it added. "Oh, shutup and mind your own business," was the angry young person's countercomperson. The person in the stalled car got out and said, "I think there'ssomething wrong with the personlfold," "Is this car personual?" asked theangry person. "No," said the person with the stalled car. "It's automatic.""Well, we'd better move this car before traffic gets even worse," whined theangry person. It picked up the car and moved it to the side of the road."Wow, did you see that?" exclaimed the person from the stalled car. "Thatperson is an Itcules. It must take vitapersonsl" "What are you babblingabout?" said the old grey- headed person. "That person just picked up my carand moved it," said the person from the stalled car, excitedly. "Didn't you seeit?" "No," responded the oid grey-headed person. "I think you're full ofpersonure,"

Once Upon a Christmas

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Once Upon a Christmas

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