MODERN TIMES - PART VI

         “It’s after seven and getting light. I fell asleep here on the couch last night, but I don’t remember getting undressed and the television is on. Strange, I can’t remember watching anything. Did I fall asleep during the news? Couldn’t have. I wasn’t home in time to see the news. I know I didn’t sleep well and it’s downright cold in here, it’s cold even in my robe.”

         He arose off the couch, looked out the window and sniffed the air. “Smells like someone has been smoking in here and I smell coffee too. I must have hit the switch when I was getting dinner. Boy I hope it didn’t burn away. I see a lot of coffee in the pot but it smells acrid. I’ll get a cup at Beano’s. Wait a minute, today’s Christmas, Beano’s won’t be open. I’ll have to make a new pot. It will perk while I shower.

         “Something’s coming back to me. The teal caftan, Elaine, what a horrible dream! I remember now, I saw her disappearing into the refrigerator.” He opened the door and looked in but saw only a container of orange juice, an open can of olives, some cheese and many condiments.

         “There’s something I have to do but I’ll be damned if I remember what it was.”

         He made a new pot of coffee, pouring the water into the container and measuring the grounds for the basket. He turned on the switch and walked off and up the stairs. The shower could be heard running. A short time later he came back down the stairs dressed in jeans and a baggy sweater. Under the sweater was a blue shirt and on his feet were blue socks. He was carrying his boots.

         “I know what it is I have to do, but I wonder if the market is open.” He glanced out the window and started away, but then he turned back to it and threw open the sash and lifted the storm window. “Hey, you down there.”

         A street person was walking by. The freezing rain had turned back to rain but now it was merely a drizzle. The man looked up at Sprague. “You talking to me?”

         “Yes, you. Do you know if the market is open today, the supermarket that is, not the stock market?”

         “Nothing’s open man, it’s Christmas, not one damn liquor store in this whole friggin town.”

         “Are you sure the SuperGrocer isn’t open?”

         “How would I know man, I don’t buy nothing there.”

         “Thanks anyway, friend.” Sprague began to close the window.

         “You got any cooking wine or sterno I can have?”

         “Don’t think so, but Merry Christmas.” He slammed the window shut and walked toward the coffee pot, then stood transfixed. ‘What did I say? “Merry Christmas”? Why did I say that? And here I’m thinking of getting Frank Nicola a thank you gift for referring all that business. What has gotten into me?’

         He drank his coffee and ate two pieces of toast, and then picking up his briefcase and putting on his still damp coat, he headed to the car. “Trish won’t be in today so I don’t have to dress up, but I’ll look funny in these clothes if I take a thank you gift to Frank.” There was little or no traffic, but as he passed the shopping center that held the SuperGrocer he noticed the store was open. The sign on the door said it would be open until noon.

         He picked up a basket and strolled the aisles looking for something to buy to thank both Randy Pitts and Frank Nicola for referring business. A three-pound can of cookies was perfect for Randy, but Frank needed something special. It was as he passed the fish counter that he saw the Bacalao sitting in the fish case. He knew it was a salted cod revered by many Italian people. What a surprise to give to Frank, a man who prided himself on his heritage. There was a line at the fish counter. Many were buying for their traditional Christmas meal of the seven fishes. Sprague waited patiently, got his fish wrapped in plastic and headed for the cashier.

         When he reached the office, he put the fish in the office refrigerator. He had already noticed its strong smell. After washing his hands, he opened his reference book and began to make notes. He opened the Cuneo file and began to scribble on another yellow pad. His eye caught a photo on his wall. He had forgotten he had mounted one of Jill’s wolf pictures. He had a sense of disquiet about Jill, but then he broke into a smile when he remembered that Jill hated fish. He went back to his work but an uneasy feeling kept invading his mind about his sister.

         At ten, he went to the front door and looked to the corner where he saw customers leaving Beano’s. A cup of coffee would hit the spot, so he walked there. When Elaine was alive the staff were the ones who were sent to the corner for coffee, but in the last few years, he had enjoyed the morning walk and sometimes even asked Trish, or Debbie, if either wanted anything. He did make sure he collected their money first. Standing at the counter, he had the urge for something to eat. For some reason a toasted English muffin tempted his fancy. He never ate them before, but this time he went back to his office with his brown bag holding not only coffee but also food.

         He couldn’t believe it but he had left the door unlocked. Sitting at Trish’s desk was the same man he had seen out his window earlier that morning. “Well, hello again. The market was open!”

         “Hip hip hooray. You sure you got nothing to drink in here?”

         “Yes, I am sure, but here, you take my English muffin. I don’t know why I bought it, ah, ah, what is your name, anyway?”

         “Wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but thanks anyway. I’m Theodore, Theodore Washington of the McKean Street Washington’s.”

         “And I’m John, Jack Sprague of the Pimlico Street Sprague’s, all one of us, but you know that. You saw my house. Oh, there’s the telephone. If you will excuse me.”

         “Go right ahead, it’s nice and warm in here.”

         Sprague walked into his inner office and picked up the phone. His gaze fixated on the wolf picture. The voice came through loud and clear.

         “You are there! What are you doing there today of all days?”

         “You! I thought you were a dream. From where are you calling? I am trying to work or was, but just came back from Beano’s. My client Ted Washington is here.”

         “I can’t believe you, seeing a client today. All that work we did last night seems to be for nothing.”

         “I’m not seeing a client, Mr. Washington is seeing me. Later I am going to thank Frank Nicola for all the business he sent me this year. I bought him and Randy each a little gift.”

         “Well, will wonders never cease. Let me rent you a camel.”

         Sprague scratched his head and looked at the receiver. “How can you be talking to me Elaine when you died seven years ago? I don’t get it. And you really were at my house last night? Did you smoke while you were there? I could smell cigarettes this morning.”

         “Oh that damn Brendan. I don’t think he will ever quit. Jack? Just accept that I am here. I’m like a bad case of hemorrhoids, I’ll always be attached to you. What did you get Frank and Randy?”

         “Cookies for Randy and a lovely piece of Bacalao for Frank.”

         “What was that? Bakawhat.”

         “A piece of salted cod. Italians are supposed to love it.”

         “You are a trip, but I guess you have to start somewhere.” There was a pause and then Elaine resumed the attack. “And what about Trish?”

         “Trish? What about Trish?”

         “Did you think to thank her?”

         “I can do that tomorrow when she comes back to work.”

         An exasperated sigh came over the line.
“Today’s the day she needs the gifts. Start by paying her more! That nincompoop Debbie that you discharged makes fifty percent more than Trish does working at Cox and Dubinsky. That I know. Trish puts up with so much crap for some reason. I can’t imagine why she has stuck it out this long. But it’s Christmas, go thank her.”

         “Ok, I’ll stop after work today if I can find her home.”

         Another sigh sounded loud.“Sixteen years and you have no idea where she lives. And you’ll wait until after you are done tonight at nine. Go while she is celebrating Christmas, today. Do the same with Frank. Get the hell out of that office! And now! And don’t forget your sister!”

         “I have been trying to think of something about her.”

         “She needs help, you fool! Set up a trust but don’t put your name on it. Get someone you can trust to be the trustee and have the trust disburse money to her. Call it the Wolfpack Trust."

         ”Dead or alive, you are still pretty sharp, Elaine.”

         This time she laughed and then growled, “Now stop the frigging stalling and get going. If you do all we talked about, I’ll probably never have to bother you and enter your life again. Go, go, go!”

         “Can I hold you to that promise.”

         “GET OUT OF THAT OFFICE.”

         Sprague hung up the phone. Ted Washington was still sitting in Trish’s chair. He turned to Sprague. “Can I look around. Maybe there’s some rubbing alcohol in the cabinet.”

         A light went on in Sprague’s head. “I have no alcohol, but I do know where there is some righteous Scotch or other liquor.”

         “My Messiah has come.”

         Sprague locked the office door and unlocked the passenger side of the car for Ted. The large man in loose fitting dirty clothes got in. Sprague put the cookies and the Bacalao on the back seat. At the corner he stopped, double-parked and ran into Beano’s where he bought a dozen donuts. Fifteen minutes later he was pulling up outside the house of Frank Nicola. He carried his cookies and fish to the door and rang the bell. Ted Washington followed behind him.

         The door opened to a surprised Frank. He called out loudly, “Randy, Midge, Carmella, come and see who is here.”

         “And I have brought you little tokens of thanks and also Mr. Theodore Washington, who would like to share the joys of the season with you.”

         “And some of your Scotch too, if you don’t mind kind sir.” Washington’s voice and the sight of him took Frank aback but Sprague went on to explain, “Ted’s a client. He is of the McKean Street Washington’s.” With more aplomb than he had ever shown in his life, Sprague led the procession to the dining room where bottles of liquor sat atop the buffet.

         Voices ran together: Carmella offering all a drink; Sprague asking for some fruit juice; and Washington moaning ‘the promised land’. Midge Pitts was breaking into the can of cookies she had grabbed from Sprague but he still held the fish in his hand. “You’d best take this, Mrs. Nicola. I imagine you will know how to serve it.”

         Frank asked, “What exactly is it. I smell something very strong.”

         “It’s Bacalao!”

         “Oh my god, next thing you know he’ll be bringing us a bottle of Dago red.”

         Carmella gave Frank a frown. “It’s sweet of John. He’s never been here before and now he can stay for lunch.”

         “And eat some of the bloody Bacalao.”

         “Frank! Stop it. John and Mr. Washington are your guests!”

         Sprague looked at the clock on the wall. “I have to go now and see Trish, but I am sure Mr. Washington has many legal problems to kick around.”

         Washington was pouring himself a second drink in a glass. There was a bulge in one of his pants pockets where a bottle protruded from an opening. While the hosts were looking at Ted, Sprague slipped toward the door, shouting as he opened it, “And a Merry Christmas to all.”

         He found Trish’s apartment without trouble. He parked and climbed the steps to the second floor. Inside Mother and Daughter and the two children were anxiously waiting for Brendan, Diane and the other Brendan. Gifts had all been opened and boredom had set in among the young. Mother and daughter noted that it was clearing and hoped that once more gifts were exchanged, the children could go outside and give the adults some peace.

         The knock on the door startled them. “It can’t be them, Diane just called from their home ten minutes ago. They’ll be another twenty minutes. God, maybe it’s your husband coming to ruin our day.”

         “No I didn’t see his car. I saw an old gray Toyota station wagon park a little way up the street and a man get out and cross over to our side.”

         “Old gray station wagon? Oh no, it can’t be.” Trish went to the door, took off the chain and opened it. Standing there was her boss, a smile on his face and holding a white Beano’s bag out to her.

         “Here, Trish, have some donuts. It’s my silly way to say thanks, like the piece of Bacalao I just gave Frank Nicola. And Merry Christmas too.”

         The last thing her diet needed was donuts, but somehow the gesture, and him saying the phrase he would not say yesterday, touched her. “Come in, Mr. Sprague. This is my daughter, Stacey Finn. I have told you about her, and these are my grandchildren Brendan and Ceila. Her husband Eddie couldn’t make it. In a little while my brother Brendan and Diane, his wife and their son Brendan will be coming.”

         “Nice to meet you all, and Merry Christmas to all of you.”

         Stacy remained silent. She looked on with almost awe at this man her mother had talked about. After seeing this episode, she was sure she was right in her mind when she thought her mother had a crush on him. Sprague continued talking.

         “Brendan is a popular name around here.” He picked a photograph up off a small table. It was Brendan the progenitor, in his electrician’s outfit. A hint of recognition came over his face. Trish now took over as hostess.

         “Come sit on the couch. Would you like some coffee, we just brewed some.”

         “That would be lovely.”

         A minute later Trish appeared out of the kitchen with the donuts on a plate and a cup of coffee for Sprague. He and Stacey were seated at each end of the couch. Trish took the spot between them. The children made a beeline for the donuts. Stacey warned them not to ruin their dinner. Trish was almost bubbling over. “I can’t get over this change in you, Mr. Sprague.”

         “Let’s just say I am trying to exorcise a ghost. I do have to talk about the office a little. Please forgive me Mrs. Finn.” Stacey just nodded her head while Sprague went on. “The first thing tomorrow I want you to throw out all those ‘Roberts & Sprague’ envelopes we’ve been using. Order new ones in my name only, and use the rubber stamp in the interim.
         “Next I want you to find a blind trust instrument and type one up, making my sister Jill the beneficiary and yourself as the Trustee. I will give you the details, but I want you to see that she gets an extra $6,000 a year in a stream of income.
         “That will entail a lot of responsibility on your part. You should be paid for it and for the added duties I intend to throw on you very soon. Effective this week your pay will rise $200 a week. And I need you healthy, so I want you to find a good health insurance program and enroll in it. The company will foot the bill. I could use some insurance too. For too long I have not had any because I am healthy, but that ice last night scared me. So if we can make it a group plan, so much the better.”

         Stacey looked at her mother’s face. She looked so happy. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Stacey had the feeling she would hug Sprague any minute, but before she could, there was another knock at the door and in came Brendan, Diane and Brendan.

         Introductions were made all around. Sprague began to say that he should get back to the office and get some work done, so that the family could have their time together. Trish would hear nothing of it. “You are staying to dinner Boss.” She had never called him that before, but it felt so good. “It will be a couple of hours, but believe me, you haven’t had anything this good in a long time. I guarantee you, it’s better than Beano’s.”

         Gifts were exchanged and then the children went outside to play. The conversation never did lead back to the office, but the talk was friendly and laugh-filled. Brendan raided his mother’s refrigerator for the beer she kept there for him. She poured herself a glass of wine. She couldn’t tempt Sprague into having a drink, and for that she was glad. She had been afraid that earlier when he was talking he was drunk. Now every so often he lurched back to the new and wonderful office she would now be working at starting tomorrow.

         The smell of the Roast Beef filled the little apartment. Coming back from checking on the meal, Trish asked everyone to get off the couch. When it was empty, she grabbed one end and Stacey the other and they moved it away from the closet door. Trish opened the door flat against the wall, pushed the sofa closer to the wall and climbed on it and onto the top of the back. She reached up in the closet and threw down a table cloth and some cloth napkins. Just as she was finishing, the front door opened and a short man with a red face and wiry black hair entered. He had thick forearms that his short sleeved shirt exposed. He was not dressed for the weather but did not appear to notice. He barked out in a loud voice, “Okay, bitch, get the kids. We’re going home, you goddamn bitch.”

         "No I’m not, Eddie. We’re having Christmas dinner with Mom and you can stay too if you behave.”

         ‘SCREW CHRISTMAS, get those kids and let’s get out of here. Some bitch I know is going to have a black eye tonight, and she’ll have trouble sitting after I kick her fat ass up the steps to my house.”

         “Eddie, calm down.”

         “You stay the fuck out of it, Brendan. She’s not your wife, she’s your sister.”

         Trish had climbed down from the sofa and now spoke, “Get out of my apartment, Eddie, you aren’t welcome here when you are like this, and you seem to always be like this anymore.”

         “Fuck off you old fat bag.” Eddie swiped at the Christmas cards that Trish had arranged atop a radiator cover, knocking them all over the place. He was about to start on the decorations that Trish had placed about when a new voice was heard.

         “You don’t call your wife a bitch or your mother-in-law an old fat bag. Now leave before we call the police.”

         “Who the fuck are you, old man?”

         “Stay out of this, Jack, it’s not your business, you’ll only get hurt.”

         “Yea, listen to the fat bag, old man.”

         “I told you Eddie, leave now.”

         “Or you and what army are going to make me? And who are you anyway, Jack? Jack Shit, is that it?”

         Sprague walked to the open door and pointed down the stairs. His voice rose. “Maybe I’m the ghost of Christmas Past, Present and Future all rolled into one. You’d best listen and leave now boy.”

         Eddie approached and stood with his face in Sprague’s face in the open doorway. His arms pushed Sprague back against the open door. He did not see Sprague place a leg outside his own leg closest to the stairwell.

         “Leave, Eddie.” His voice was quieter. The reaction was the same; another push and this time Eddie cocked a fist and prepared to deliver a blow to Sprague’s face. Sprague arm grabbed Eddie around the waist and his other arm reached for the far shoulder and with a pull, he sent Eddie over his extended leg. Eddie tumbled down the steps, striking his head several times. When he reached the bottom he groaned and collapsed into unconsciousness.

         Stacey ran down the steps. Trish grabbed the phone to call an ambulance. It arrived just as the children were coming home. Brendan asked Trish if she would be all right. She shook her head in the affirmative. The policeman who came at the same time as the ambulance asked what had happened. Stacey answered that her husband had tripped and fallen down the steps. The other members of the family concurred. Sprague did say that he had tripped over his leg. The policeman wrote it down and left.

         Stacey followed the ambulance to the hospital. Brendan and Diane and little Brendan left. The Finn children came upstairs and resumed their play in the living room. Celia asked when dinner would be. Trish slapped her head and ran to the oven. She took out the beef and covered it with a dishtowel. She turned and looked at Sprague. “Jack, will you please stay to dinner? I am a wreck now. I can’t thank you enough.”

         The phone rang. It was Stacey. Eddie had regained consciousness. His blood alcohol level was 2.9%. He mumbled that he had fallen down the steps. He would be in the hospital overnight at least. Stacey would be coming back for dinner.

         Sprague commented quietly to Trish that he hoped Stacey would be all right staying with Eddie. Trish said she had little choice, but maybe with her increase in pay, she could find a place where her daughter and kids could live together.

         Sprague’s eyes clouded over. His mind seemed to be floating. At last he came out of it and spoke, but not about Stacey, though he told Trish that he might be able to help them. He paused and then his voice took on an almost spectral air.

         “I really became a ghost of Christmas past, the Christmas season of seven years. No, I didn’t push Elaine down the stairs. I really wasn’t there when it happened, but I have to think some spirit did, just as something unseen helped me today.”

         Trish stared at him, not understanding. “You were incredibly brave, Mr. Sprague.”

         “I heard you say Jack back there. You can call me ‘Jack’”

         She smiled. “As long as you continue to call me ‘Trish’.

         He smiled. “You know, this story has a famous last line, something like ‘Louis, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.’ I know that’s not it, but I don’t know what the line is.”

THE END

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL