HOME OF THE RED FOX - Segment Eleven

Chapter 51

         A small feminine figure stood facing away from him, dressed in an old white blouse tucked loosely into a worn and shabby blue pleated skirt. She had on a pair of white tennis shoes, now filthy, and she wore her red hair pulled back in a ponytail. Walker never had seen Samantha dressed like this, looking like a young schoolgirl. He stood there watching her reach up into one of the ledges. Walker broke his silence by laughing when she suddenly swore after cutting her finger on a sharp limestone edge.

         Samantha whirled around at the sound and lost her balance on the uneven floor. Walker quickly reached out and caught hold of her before she fell. Pushing his hands away in irritation, she stepped back to glare at him.

         “What do you mean by scaring me half to death, sneaking up on me?”

         “A bit testy, aren’t we?” His laughter ended, but he continued to grin. “What are you doing down here anyway?” Walker even stopped grinning when he looked around. “You shouldn’t even be here yet. It’s much too dangerous without the lighting fully installed.” The electricians had only rigged up a light near the cavern’s entrance. This left portions of the cavern in shadowy darkness. Samantha’s flashlight was lying on the ledge, but it provided only limited light.

         Walker shuddered when he thought of his stubborn friend falling and not found for hours, lying unconscious in the dark. His overactive imagination pictured her slowly bleeding to death. The recent memory of her in his apartment, in that condition from the gunshot wound to her head, made the picture even more vivid. His good humor was completely gone and replaced by anger. “I want you upstairs now. You’re not to come back here alone until it’s safe. Do you understand?” When Samantha started to object to his unexpected heavy-handed order, Walker shouted, “Now!”

         Unaccustomed to seeing him so angry, Samantha turned away, stomping out of the cavern. She was muttering loudly enough for him to hear what she thought of him. She made clear her opinion of his bullying tactics, what he could do with his caverns, his electricians with their lights, and most of all, his miserable mansion.

         Watching Samantha leave, her outrage showing in her ramrod straight back, Walker belatedly realized he handled the situation badly. What is there about Sam, he thought, that always causes me do or say the wrong thing?

         Even so, the memory of the sight of her when he had first walked into the pool cavern remained with him for the next few hours.

Chapter 52

         The mansion was in full holiday mode the morning of Thanksgiving. Workers had completed repairs to the entrance room the day before. Walker scheduled the finishing touches to the two caverns below for the following weeks. A large gaping hole remained in the corridor’s wall outside the kitchen, but everyone knew not to go near it. Walker made this clear one hour after his autocratic order to Samantha. He put a large sign next to the hole warning everyone away. Since he made few rules within the mansion, everyone took this one seriously and without comment.

         Everyone, that is, except a thoroughly irritated woman who glared at the sign and Walker whenever she saw either one of them. Samantha took the sign personally. Her employer felt the sting of her anger without knowing what to do next. He tried to apologize for yelling at her. Walker was met with stony silence and her back, as she stalked away from him halfway through his apology.

         The next morning, Walker came down from his apartment to check on the progress of the day’s celebration. He immediately headed towards the kitchens, drawn by the tantalizing aromas coming out of them. Elderly cooks filled the second kitchen, which was dedicated to making the desserts for the Thanksgiving feast. Pies already baked were cooling on wire stands, waiting for a knife to cut them into generous slices.

         Pumpkin, mince, and apple pies predominated. There were also many in the large refrigerator setting up, including banana cream, lemon meringue, and chocolate topped with fresh whipped cream. Those who did not care for pies would have a large selection of other desserts. Cakes, brownies, and other sweets included some of Walker’s favorites, chocolate and fruit-flavored petit fours.

         When Walker came into the kitchen, he could not wait until dinner. He stuffed two of the aforementioned tiny pastries into his mouth, closing his eyes in enjoyment at the delectable taste.

         “Anna, you have outdone yourself with these,” he finally said, after swallowing the small morsel. He leaned down and planted a kiss on the cheek of the woman who had handed him the petit fours. The tiny lady, famous throughout the mansion for her baking expertise, smiled shyly at Walker’s heartfelt words and blushed from the kiss. In all her years of married life, never once had her now-deceased husband or three children given her praise for her cooking. They took her for granted, never remarking on how well she ran their immaculate home. Since moving to the mansion, Anna was like a small sponge. She grew in confidence and stature with the recognition from Walker and others of her excellent cooking skills. For the first time in her life, she smiled daily for no particular reason, just because of pure happiness.

         Walker continued to the other kitchen where the chef and his helpers were preparing the main meal. Plump turkeys and sugar-cured hams filled the many large ovens along with various side dishes. The ubiquitous green bean casseroles cooked side by side with the rich potato and bacon bread. The bread would be served hot, sliced, and covered with sweet butter later in the meal. Parker House rolls waited in the bun warmer for the meal along with corn muffins and other types of homemade bread.

         On top of the stoves bubbled large pots with the cooks sticking forks in the vegetables periodically to check for tenderness. Squash, potato, turnips, and other plain root vegetables shared the stovetop with baby onions in cream sauce and a pan of sliced mushrooms sautéed in wine. The fragrance of the varied foods had Walker standing at the kitchen’s doorway just breathing it in deeply. The man who made all of this possible was happy, all problems major and minor slipping away, as he breathed a silent prayer of thanks for all the blessings he had been given.

         Deciding not to stay in the kitchen and risk the busy cooks running him over, Walker entered the dining room to check on the preparations there. Decorated tables filled the large room. White linen table clothes covered each table with napkins at each place setting held by carved ivory napkin rings. The beautiful cream-colored plates and bowls of bone china complemented the recently polished, silver flatware and goblets of ruby-red. Sparkling crystals on the chandeliers over the tables caused rays of light to dance around the room, giving it an enchanted feeling.

         He noticed the olive and pickle bowls were on each table and snitched a Spanish olive from one of them. Centerpieces of autumn flowers added their fragrance to those coming out from the kitchen next door, and staff raced back and forth following the last minute orders from Geoffrey, the head chef.

         With the time of the meal quickly approaching, the guests started coming into the room, most standing awestruck in the doorway at the sight that greeted them. For many, today would be the first Thanksgiving since childhood when the responsibility of preparing the meal was not theirs. For others, it would be their first true Thanksgiving in their long, lonely life.

         It took about 30 minutes, but eventually everyone found a place to sit. Walker slowly stood up and said a short speech of thanks for all who filled his life with joy by their presence. Even Samantha put aside her hurt feelings for the moment to applaud when he sat back down. At that sound, the double doors to the kitchen swung open, and a line of waiters in the green and white uniforms of the mansion filed out. They carried platters and bowls of every food imaginable, including turkeys and hams, already carved and ready for serving.

         There were mashed potatoes without a single lump just waiting for the thick brown liquid from the silver gravy boats, golden yams dotted with butter, and Brussels sprouts needing only the dash of vinegar from the nearby cruets. Dishes of cranberry sauce, plain and with whole berries, vied for space on the heavily laden tables with pitchers of chilled eggnog topped with fresh nutmeg.

         The sound of conversations and glassware clinking as the guests raised their glasses in toasts to the special day filled the room. For the next few hours, the guests and staff settled down to enjoy the feast spread before them. The two children, Sue Beth and Joshua, sat quietly at the head table to the right of Walker, remembering Thanksgiving the previous year with their family in the small Noe Valley apartment back in San Francisco. This would be their first holiday season without their mother and grandmother, and even their love for Walker and the others at the mansion could not dispel their sadness.

         Edith sat on the other side of Walker. She was rejoicing in the blessing of finding her son after so many years of loneliness without him. She added her own silent Thanksgiving prayer to those of the many people in the room, given a second lease on life by the generous man sitting next to her. Edith reached out her hand and briefly placed it on her son’s arm to reassure herself he was there. Walker turned to his mother with love for her in his eyes for all to see. By now, everyone knew of how he had found his birth mother after years of looking.

         Others in the room looked back on the previous year, giving thanks for the changes in their lives because of Walker and his mansion, safe haven for so many of them. Some remembered sitting alone in hotel rooms or nursing homes, forgotten as their families celebrated the day without them. One or two tried to forget the horror of Thanksgiving being just another day for mistreatment and abuse by their so-called loved ones. A lucky few had wonderful memories. A few, however, had ended alone when all their family passed away one by one.

         The afternoon hours passed all too quickly, and finally waiters cleared the tables and wheeled in large urns of freshly brewed coffee to finish off the lavish meal. All the elderly guests agreed it was the best Thanksgiving ever. They slowly returned one by one to their suites, surfeited with food and comforted in the warmth of caring friends.

         Walker’s final thought as he left the empty dining room was his hope everyone’s Thanksgiving celebration had been as perfect as his.

Chapter 53

         The formal day of Thanksgiving behind them, guests and staff started preparing for Christmas and Hanukah. Even though these holidays were weeks away, the excitement level rose every day, especially for the two children.

         When Abe and Sylvia Goldman showed Samantha a beautiful menorah they had received recently as a wedding gift, the three of them searched until they found the perfect place to display it. Jack contributed a blue and white table runner he had bought on a trip to Israel years ago. Walker brought down the long table from his apartment and placed it in the entrance room. With vases of flowers on either side of the menorah, it was a place of serenity and reverence for those of all faiths to reflect on and enjoy.

         The issue of a Christmas tree brought out a side of Walker surprising those who thought they knew him. He refused to have a tree killed for the express purpose of hanging ornaments on it for a few weeks, only to discard it. Jack looked at him when Walker made the announcement. “I never thought of you as a California tree hugger. Can you suggest an alternative since not having a Christmas tree will disappoint the kids?”

         Walker slowly went to the large front window and looked outside at the snow-covered area on the other side of the circular driveway. Tall spruce and pine trees dotted the immense yard, giving him an idea. “We can decorate one of those trees, can’t we?” He turned to face Jack. “There is plenty of other greenery we can put inside, like wreaths and garlands, without killing a tree.” Strolling away, delighted to have come up with a compromise, he said a phrase he often heard on reruns of an old television show, “Make it so!”

         The following week, young men arrived and spent hours on cherry pickers stringing yard after yard of colored lights on the tallest of the trees in the front yard. These they attached to an outside generator hidden behind the tree. When darkness fell, guests and staff crowded the entrance room, looking outside as Walker switched on the tree lights for the first time. The popular opinion was this was even better than having a tree inside, and thus started a new tradition for the mansion.

         A flatbed truck arrived the next afternoon filled with the wreaths and garlands Walker had bought that morning from the local Christmas tree farm. The smell of pine soon filled the mansion along with the aroma of the flowers by the menorah. Eager hands wove garlands with red and green or blue and white ornaments up the stairway banisters between floors, while other volunteers hung the garlands on all the suite doors.

         Jack arranged for the shuttle buses to run constantly during the day for people visiting the stores in the nearby town searching for just the right gifts to give to their friends. A large area in the entrance room by the front window was set aside for the gaily wrapped gifts. Day by day, the pile grew with Samantha surreptitiously checking to see everyone received at least one or two gifts.

         So far, no one knew who would be playing Santa. However, she knew Walker would probably pick just the right person.

Chapter 54

         During the week after Thanksgiving, the snow fell almost constantly. Finally, one day in the middle of December, the sun came out to blind everyone with its brilliance on the white snow. Sue Beth and Joshua, suffering from a case of cabin fever, ran outside and headed for the area on the other side of the driveway.

         “Come on, Joshua,” yelled Sue Beth, as she raced ahead of her older brother. “You’re always such a slowpoke!” This taunt caused the boy to catch up to his sister and push her none too gently into a snow pile. He continued to the wide yard, leaving the girl sitting there sputtering and shivering, with snow going down her neck.

         “Who’s a slowpoke now?” said Joshua, with a laugh. Since he did not have a mean bone in his body, Joshua returned to help his little sister up and started brushing the snow off her clothes. For his kindness, he ended in the same snow pile when Sue Beth tackled him.

         “Uncle, uncle,” cried Sue Beth, holding her hands up in mock surrender. Joshua stood up and once again helped her to her feet.

         A handful of the guests helped them build two forts in the snow, and soon a regular storm of snowballs, aimed with surprising accuracy, went from one fort to the other. Both children and the adults enjoying their second childhood interrupted the mayhem now and then to create snow angels. Two giggling women slowly created a large snowman decorated in cast-off finery. An old man, who in years past had forgotten how to even smile, soon joined in on the fun. Those nearby heard a rusty laugh when a misfired snowball found him.

         As the day progressed, the sky again turned dark with another snowstorm threatening. Around three in the afternoon, the two children slowly and reluctantly headed towards the mansion, but stopped by the door to watch the familiar limousine come up the long driveway. Walker joined them outside to wait for the vehicle to stop. His recruiter’s phone call about this particular person intrigued him. Walker had been working practically nonstop for the past week helping to get the mansion ready. The holidays were swiftly approaching, and he looked forward to a hot meal and a few hours’ sleep once he had met the newest guest.

         Two days ago, a policewoman had found the elderly man, who had been living underneath a highway’s overpass, suffering from exposure and malnutrition. She notified Robyn De Sousa, the mansion’s recruiter she knew was in the vicinity. The two women had persuaded the confused man to climb up the bank to the road above where the limousine’s chauffer was waiting. Knowing any delay might be detrimental to the man’s shaky health, the driver pushed his vehicle to its limits on their rush to the mansion.

         Normally, Walker turned down the elderly who were ill, knowing local government agencies would better serve them. Robyn's phone call from the car, as they raced the many snowy miles towards the sanctuary of the mansion, convinced him to make an exception. His quick call to Dr. Robinson at the hospital let him know he had made the right decision. Walker was relieved to see the lanky physician pulling his car up behind the parked limousine.

         Robyn was the first to get out of the car. Eric, the driver, followed her. They got on either side of the elderly man as they helped him out of the car and guided him towards the mansion’s front door. The children’s eyes opened wide in awe at their first sight of the man coming their way, and looked up at Walker standing next to them. “Is it really him?” whispered Joshua. His sister pulled at Walker’s sleeve to make the tall man lean down to their level. His tired face broke out in a smile on hearing what she said next in childish wonder and joy.

         “That’s Santa Claus. You found Santa Claus and brought him here.”

Chapter 55

         He was the exact image of Santa Claus, from his white hair and beard to his still rotund body, this last despite his malnutrition. Instead of the familiar red suit, he wore shabby, brown slacks and a red plaid shirt with worn shoes held together with duct tape. His wire-rimmed spectacles did not hide the sadness in his eyes, though, as he reached the small group waiting at the door.

         Robyn gently stopped his forward motion when they reached Walker and said, “All I could get out of him was his first name, Nick or, I think, Nicholas. I’m not sure which since he has a slight accent.” Robyn smiled at the old man standing quietly next to her and turned when Dr. Robinson came up behind them. Later, the doctor would examine Nick, but for now, he just stood there.

         Walker left the two children and held out his hand to the stranger. “Welcome, Nick, to Maison du Renard Rouge. My name is Walker, and we’re all here to make your stay with us pleasant.” He turned to see Samantha coming outside to join them. She still was a bit peeved at Walker, even though weeks had passed since he ordered her out of the cavern.

         Samantha put her hand on Nick’s arm in welcome. “Nick, I’m Samantha, and I’ll always be here if you have any questions.” She smiled and eased him inside out of the cold. Sue Beth and Joshua, who did not want to let the man they thought of as Santa Claus out of their sight, followed them closely. Walker, the doctor, and Robyn brought up the rear while Eric drove off in the limousine to park it before the brewing snowstorm overtook them. By now, snowflakes slowly drifted down and soon put a new coat of snow on the deserted snowman and forts.

         Inside, the entrance room welcomed the small group with its fragrance of pine and bayberry. The smell of dinnertime cooking came down the corridor from the main kitchen. Anna, the tiny woman of the mansion's bakery fame, had spent the afternoon making apple pies; the pungent smell of cinnamon made mouths water in anyone walking by the guest kitchen.

         Stopping in the middle of the large room, Nick looked around at the festive decorations, and a small smile appeared on his haggard face. The menorah caught his attention, and he slowly walked over to its location on the long table. He reached out his hand to touch the item, and paused only inches from it. Next, he stood in front of the crèche built on a second table. The lovingly crafted stable, with its animals and baby Jesus lying sleeping in the small manger, deepened his smile and took away some of the gray from his sad face. Lastly, he walked over to the growing pile of beautifully wrapped Christmas gifts underneath the large front window. Nick stood in front of them for a few minutes. His smile grew even bigger and more joyful as time passed.

         It probably was only their imagination, but to Sue Beth and Joshua, the man changed right before their eyes. He no longer was a despondent, sickly-looking, old man. He now looked healthy with sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks. Even his white hair and beard bristled with life. The adults nearby, of course, noticed nothing different about the man. It was sadly true most adults eventually lost their ability to see the world the way a child did. There was one in the small group of adults, though, who still had traces of a child left in him. Walker had a feeling that Nick was not the homeless derelict he seemed to be at first glance.

         Maybe he was Santa Claus as Walker’s two children swore he was. After all, it was nearly Christmas, and perhaps Santa was out checking first hand who was naughty and who was nice. Walker started laughing when this whimsical thought crossed his mind, which caused the other adults to look at him as if he had lost his mind.

         Only Nick seemed to know what Walker was thinking and confused the others by saying, “Exactly, Walker!”

Continued in next segment.

HOME OF THE RED FOX - Segment Twelve  (18+) Chapters 56 thru 60 #1082901 by J. A. Buxton