A Christmas Miracle

The fire had died, the pop and crackle of the logs long mute, and I sat nursing the very last swigs of Mama’s “nog,” which was really nothing more than Carnation Instant Milk mixed with bourbon and a dash of black pepper. A foul but effective numbing agent. Hacking a pepper ground out of my throat, I noticed a glint in the upper corner of the side yard window. The Colonel was standing looking in. The glow of his cigar had grabbed my attention. “Goddammit,” I muttered.

I stood and walked over to the front door. Opening it a foot or so I asked into the night, “Colonel? You wanna come in, or you just peepin’?”

There was a long sigh, then a grunt, and a plume of cigar smoke enveloped me as he strode inside. I closed the door. He sat down on the couch with a collection of grumbles and groans, and then became a smoldering statue, except for his eyes which followed me over to the leather chair.

“Nog?” I asked, pointing to the large glass pitcher of off-white slurry. He shook his head, then took a large puff on his cigar. With a brief cough he asked, “Where’s yer Mama?” I picked up a large jar of maraschino cherries sitting next to me and tipped it to my open mouth, sucking a few inside and letting them loll about my tongue as I eyed the Colonel waiting for my answer. The sweet juice trickled down my throat and the Colonel looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the pleasure I was experiencing.

“She gone,” I garbled through my mouthful of fruits, then mashed them with one big bite and swallowed.

Colonel pulled once at his crotch, then became obsessed with a brass button on his uniform jacket, rubbing at it with his sleeve, pulling it this way and that as if trying to catch his reflection in it.

There was a sudden rap at the door, short and loud, and we both looked over as if it was the last thing we were expecting. Again, I stood and walked over, while wishing the last ten minutes would just disappear.

I opened it and there stood a woman, swollen with child. A dusty man accompanied her. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, “but my wife she’s about to give birth, and we smelled smoke, and I was wondering if you could ask that gentleman sitting over there to put out his cigar.” The woman moaned quietly.

“Maybe I should call someone?” I said, and the dusty man shook his head.

“No, we’re fine. We’re right there in that manger, it’s just the smoke, it’s no good for the baby.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Manger?” I asked. “You mean my Tuff Shed over there?” I pointed toward my driveway, where it sat. I noticed the door was ajar and a thin light was glowing inside. “You got a fire going in there?”

“Just a small one,” said dusty, projecting over his wife’s urgent panting.

“And you’re worried about cigar smoke? You can’t have a fire in there, man!” I took a few steps toward the shed. A dark shape moved in its doorway. “Is that a donkey?”

“Please, sir…the cigar…”

“Colonel! Put out that dog turd!” I yelled, “This lady is about to have a ba—”

The woman squatted and let out a cry. Thankfully my reflexes kicked in from the old dodgeball days and I dove and caught the little one before it landed on the stone steps. A newborn baby can be quite slippery, but I had a decent grip, and wouldn’t you know it? The Colonel was at my side with his buck knife brandished, cutting the cord just in time for the infant to let out a cry notifying the world that he was in it.

Having nothing to wrap it in, I took off my Hardee’s visor and placed it gently on the baby’s head, then handed him to his mother.

“What’cha gonna name him?” growled the Colonel.

The dusty man looked over at his wife and their newborn, his eyes filled with emotion, and said, “We’re going to name him Jes—”

“—us H. Christ!” yelled Mama, running toward us from the yard. “The goddurn shed is up in flames! Is that a donkey?! HEY!!”

She went ass over elbow as the frightened gray animal ran through her trying to escape the flames now shooting out of the Tuff Shed doorway. As she lay on the ground, all the rest of us could do was break up laughing. I mean she wasn’t hurt or nothing.

The donkey let out a loud bray from the sidewalk, and I swear I even saw that baby chuckle a time or two. Haha. What a night.