INSTALLMENT SEVEN
OPERATION CHRISTMAS PRESENT
from
THE FATHER CONTRACT
By Arthur J. Arrington
Edited by Paul K. Scott
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Chapter Fifteen: Operation Christmas Present
While PJ stood and watched Jack drive away, he began to tremble violently. As soon as the car was out of sight, he ran into the bushes by the side of the House and threw up.
He was so sick he almost got some of it on his clothes. After wiping his mouth, he straightened up slowly, feeling only slightly better. He hadn't realized it then, but when talking to Jack, he'd never been so scared and upset in his life. At first he'd been scared that his plan wouldn't work. It had, but now he was even more scared and upset because he knew he'd conned Jack into all those promises, that he'd bought him off with the contract business. Sure, Jack might be coming to see him, but not because he wanted to. Jack would be coming only because he felt he had to. That realization made PJ miserable--so miserable he'd even forgotten to tell Jack to pass on his hello to Charlie.
He glanced around in a panic, terrified that someone might have seen him getting sick in the bushes, but the parking area was dark and deserted. Walking slowly, PJ made his way past the corner of the building and headed for the front door, all the while trying desperately to think of something, anything, to make up for what he had done. He wanted everything to be right again.
Christmas! He halted in mid-step on the sidewalk, Jack was coming for Christmas, and for sure that would be fun. So, if he could figure out something to give Jack, something to somehow make things better . . . something to apologize for the contract thing, to make Jack glad all over again to be with his Tiger. . .
The trouble is, PJ told himself as he went into the House, get him what? He had only the vaguest idea about what kinds of presents adults liked or disliked, and Jack seemed to be a worse problem than most. What could you possibly give the most famous baseball player in the world that he didn't already have? PJ couldn't come up with a thing.
Reasoning that other kids must face a similar problem with any grownup, he spent some time that evening discreetly checking around, starting with his roommate. "Erik, what do you usually get Bill for Christmas?"
"Oh, different stuff. This year I got him some golf balls and a tie. My mom usually tells me what to get."
Golf balls and a tie?
It sounded pretty lame to PJ. His next source was one of the older boys who'd been with him on the football team. "Aftershave lotion, cologne, and clothes are almost always a safe bet," Dustin assured him. "My mom buys the stuff and I sign the card."
PJ found this advice hard to believe. Clothes as presents? Personally, he hated getting clothing as presents, but he checked with a few other kids and got about the same answer. Some got their fathers aftershave lotion or shavers, yet they all got them clothing. He went back to his room and checked the secret stash of money he'd put away for his Christmas shopping. Almost $165. He sat down with the lists he'd been making, and that was when he really started getting worried.
Mr. and Mrs. Williamson. . . . He had to get them something. And the kids that were staying over for Christmas at the House with him--he wanted something for them as well. Plus there were his "insurance" presents. Those he had to have. And Jack . . .
PJ squeezed his eyes shut in dismay just thinking about it. Jack isn't coming because he wants to see me. He's only coming because I made him. I'm paying him to come.
"No," PJ whispered. He wasn't going to listen to that anymore!
You know it's true. Jack doesn't even like you.
"Yes he does!"
Jack doesn't like you! He said so!
But even as PJ clenched his fists, pushing the doubts away, he knew that what he had done to Jack Canon was wrong.
It won't matter, he told himself. He's coming for Christmas! I'll get him something nice and he'll be glad he came! And he'll like me . . . and he'll be happy that he's coming see me all those other times. It'll be alright!
The next morning, Sunday, PJ got up while it was still dark. After dressing quietly, he stuffed the Christmas money and lists into a pants pocket, got his ski jacket and Red Sox hat, and knelt beside Erik's bed. "Erik," he whispered, giving his friend's shoulder a nudge, "wake up."
When Erik's eyes opened and he saw PJ, fully dressed, kneeling by his bed, he sat up in alarm. "What's wrong, PJ? Are you alright?"
"Sssh." PJ whispered. "Nothing's wrong. I just need your help."
"With what?" Eric whispered back.
"I'm going off-campus to get Jack a Christmas present," PJ explained. "I want you to cover for me."
"I'll go with you!"
"No! You have to stay here to cover for me. Come on, Erik! You've got to help me."
"What do you want me to do?"
"If anybody asks where I am, tell them you just saw me going to the soccer field, or the library. If they ask again, tell them I went . . . oh, somewhere else. Tell them I went over to the woods to collect leaves for a science project or something."
Erik snickered. "Collecting leaves! What a jerkoff excuse!"
"Well, think of something better then. Just don't let anybody get suspicious until I get back."
"I'd rather go with you."
"Yeah, I know. But I wanna do this myself. Kinda like a personal thing for Jack, okay?"
"I know what you mean. Okay, you're covered. When'll you be back?"
"Before supper probably. If not, I'll call you."
"Be careful, PJ."
"I will. Thanks, Erik."
Very quietly, PJ crept down the House stairs and tiptoed through the front hall. Easing the front door open, he slipped outside, closed the door softly, and scampered off into the early morning darkness. Dawn found him trudging along the road a mile away from the school, munching on one of Mrs. Williamson's brownies.
PJ headed for a mall not far from the Pizza place where he and Erik had gone with Jack the previous day. It took him four hours of walking to get there, arriving just as the mall was opening, only to find lines of people already waiting to get in for the last weekend shopping day before Christmas. Since his most important gift would be for Jack, and because he still had no definite idea of what to get him, PJ first tried the big Sears department store at one end of the mall, hoping he might see something that would give him inspiration. One of the first counters he came to had gift sets of cologne, soap, and other stuff. He checked the prices and gulped. He couldn't afford any of them! Finally, he bought one small bottle of Polo aftershave. It still cost him $8.93 including tax, a pesky extra charge from either the Feds or the State of Pennsylvania (he wasn't sure which), something he'd forgotten to anticipate. Anyways, if he couldn't find anything else, at least he would have something to give Jack!
In the men's clothing department, PJ stared in dismay at row after row of sports jackets and pants. He didn't have an inkling of Jack's size. After checking some of the prices, he sighed and crossed "jacket" and "pants" off his list. A few minutes later he crossed "shirt" off his list for the same reason. He had better luck, however, at the tie counter. A nice young lady brought a lot of ties out for PJ to examine and asked him helpful questions. "What colors does your dad like?" she asked kindly.
"I think he likes red," PJ said, recalling some of the shirts Jack
had worn in
"Does he usually wear a white dress shirt or does he like colored ones?"
"Ummm. Colored ones, I think."
"What color hair does he have?"
"Oh, his hair is just like mine."
The young lady smiled again. "Ah," she said, "blonde. I bet your Dad is very handsome." She selected several ties from the ones she had brought out, showed them to PJ, and he pointed excitedly to one that had little baseballs on it. "I think he might like that one!"
"Is your dad a baseball fan?" the young lady asked.
PJ nodded. "He loves baseball."
"We have some baseball team ties that are very popular." She went to a drawer and came back with a collection of ties all decorated in different team designs. PJ immediately pounced on a dark-blue one polka-dotted with little red and white Red Sox logos.
"This one!" he said triumphantly. "This is perfect!"
"That's a nice one," the young lady agreed. "Shall I gift-wrap it for you?"
"Yes, thanks." PJ was delighted with his find.
While the lady was putting the tie in a box and wrapping it, PJ had an incredible idea. Like so many of his ideas, it popped suddenly into his mind as a picture. He saw himself walking into the Father-Son Dinner next year with Jack. Jack would be wearing his new Red Sox tie, PJ would have on his good gray pants with his navy sports jacket, and he could be wearing the same tie! That would be cool!
"Excuse me," PJ said, getting the lady's attention. "Could I please get one more of these ties--for me? You won't have to gift-wrap it."
The young lady looked doubtful. "I don't know if we have that tie in boys' sizes," she said. "Let me check." She was gone for awhile. When she came back, she was shaking her head. "I'm afraid we don't have any ties like that in a boy's size. All we have are these." She showed PJ some cheap clip-on ties in dark blue. PJ looked disgusted. Only total nerd-losers would wear a clip-on! He shook his head firmly and pointed back to the Red Sox tie. "That's okay," he told the lady. "I'd like another one of these anyway. Don't worry about the size. I'll grow into it."
The lady beamed at him and gave a little chuckle. "I'm sure you will." She found another Red Sox tie, wrapped it in tissue paper, and put it along with the gift-wrapped one into a bag for him. "I think your daddy is a very lucky guy," she said as she rang up the sale.
PJ went off happily with his purchase. At $20.50 plus tax, that was a bargain! Now that he'd learned that he could have things gift-wrapped for free, he went back to the first counter, presented his sales slip, and had the bottle of aftershave boxed and gift-wrapped too.
As he was looking around for an exit back into the mall, he passed a table filled with silky-looking scarves. Perfect! he thought. He picked out a nice colorful one as a present for Mrs. Williamson. I know she'll like this. He also got the scarf gift-wrapped and walked out of the store feeling he had done quite well.
Next, on the corner of the main walkway, he saw a tobacco shop and went in to look for a pipe to give Mr. Williamson. He had $123.33 of his money left, but there were lots of names still on his gift list, so he passed up the really expensive pipes displayed at the front and hunted awhile to find a nice one he could afford. He showed the counterman his choice, asked to have it gift-wrapped, was disappointed to learn that the wrapping would cost another dollar, but decided to go ahead anyway because a pipe would be a hard shape to wrap himself. He crossed Mr. Williamson's name off his list. Still, five names remained, not counting his own for his "insurance presents." He had to be thrifty.
Joining the throng of shoppers crowding the main arcade, PJ wandered past shops, looking into windows, trying to get ideas. There were three other boys spending Christmas at the House along with him, and he wanted to get something for each of them. Two were about his age, and one was older. It should be easy to find presents for boys he knew well. He spotted a music store and went in. His older friend, Mike, was a Green Day fan, so PJ bought a CD and poster of one of the band's concerts and crossed his name off the list. Then, right beside the music shop, he found a toy store. After hunting around for a bit, he got a nice model airplane kit and a boxed set of magic tricks. He was sure his younger friends Pedro and Danny would like them. In fact, he planned to try some of the magic tricks himself before he wrapped the set up. Two more names off the list! But he was down to $69.27 and his cash was dwindling fast! A novelty shop he just had to check out offered all sorts of neat stuff but nothing suitable for Christmas. Sneezing powder and fake puke were good birthday gifts, but somehow not quite the thing for Yuletide. He moved on.
At a stationery store he found, after a lot of looking, a nice, $7.00 folding notepad with a built-in clipboard for Mr. Bernard, his swim coach. It was made of plastic so it was waterproof. PJ had noticed that the clipboard his coach used was all rusty.
When PJ got to the food court, the smells made him realize how hungry he was. He had only eaten the one brownie for breakfast and nothing since. He considered buying something, but his money was disappearing at such an alarming rate he didn't dare pay the prices they wanted for even one small hamburger. Instead, he bought a $1.00 package of gum off a pushcart. Gotta make my cash last! When he went by the video arcade, he walked as fast as he could with his eyes closed so he wouldn't be tempted to blow any of his money on games.
He wasted half an hour at a pet shop, even though he knew Gordonsville didn't allow pets, and there wasn't any sense in even dreaming of one. But PJ had never had a pet, not even a real cheap one like a turtle or a fish, so he spent a long time looking longingly at a litter of kittens and a Labrador puppy with a big red bow around his neck. Then he finally walked on.
Beyond a courtyard with a fountain, he found a bookstore and went in as if pulled by a magnet. PJ loved books. He browsed happily through the aisles, looking at magazines, art books, coffee table books, how-to books, novels, history books, science fiction, nonfiction . . . finally ending up camped on the floor of the young adult section with his shopping bags propped around him, engrossed in a paperback sports-adventure book called The Kid Who Only Hit Homers. PJ decided he just had to buy it, and he also made the decision that all his "insurance presents" would be books this year.
Indeed, PJ had been buying presents and giving them to himself for Christmas ever since he had started getting his own allowance. He called them "insurance presents" because they ensured that, even if no one else gave him a gift, he'd still get something on Christmas Day. So now, he poked around on the shelves and found two more books that along with The Kid Who Only Hit Homers would give him three, good "insurance presents." Both were by authors he knew and liked: Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson, who'd written Treasure Island, PJ's all-time favorite; and Kim by Rudyard Kipling, recommended, in fact, by Mr. Bingham, PJ's English teacher. He knew Kipling had written The Jungle Book, which was awesome, so he figured Kim might be good too.
On his way back to the front, he went through the gift section of the store and got cards, ribbon, wrapping paper, and a nice pen and pencil set that he could give to Coach Lewis, his football coach. He carried all his purchases to the cashier and made the happy discovery that the store had free gift-wrapping. He had the pencil and pen set and each one of his three books individually wrapped, figuring that if he put three different book packages under the House tree, it would look like he was getting more Christmas stuff than if just one package of three books. The grand total came to $36.50 plus tax.
After he paid for everything, he was pleased to find that he still had $21.16 left over. He imagined himself buying a delicious hamburger combo at the food court--until he spotted a Radio Shack across the way. PJ loved bookstores best, but Radio Shack was a very close second. He decided it wouldn't hurt to go over and look around. He lugged his two heavy bags of presents across the mall plaza and went in.
The store was bright and cheerful in its Christmas dress of red, green, and silver tinsel, plus it was stocked to the brim with all the neat Radio Shack goodies. PJ spent some time playing around with the display computers, and then checked out the shelves of calculators, handheld video games, and electronic test equipment. He parked his two bags for a moment and tried some of the remote-controlled cars on display, concluding that, as always, Radio Shack had the best radio-controlled cars of anybody. Next, he wandered over to look at the shelves of boom boxes, stereos, and other electronic stuff. For a short time, he drooled over a portable DVD player. Ever since another boy in his House had shown up with one of these at the beginning of term, PJ had craved one for himself. But they were expensive and he had to be practical. He already had a good portable CD player, and, as Erik had pointed out, there was only so much space in their room. PJ had decided to put off buying a DVD player until school ended, when he could get one that he could take with him to summer camp.
He moved on and was about to leave when one more display caught his eye. It was the newest version of Radio Shack's Palm-size computer. This was another highlighted item on PJ's long-term, must-have list. He read all the specifications eagerly. Wireless Internet, e-mail, appointment calendar, phone list, remote dialer, checkbook, notepad, games, chess, solitaire, infrared port--this baby had it all! It would do everything but the dishes!
When he looked at the price, however, his heart sank. At that price it would be awhile before he got one. Then he had another one of his incredible ideas. Why not get one for Jack! PJ did some fast thinking. He didn't have the money on him but . . . I'll have Walter Harris buy it!
PJ pictured Jack in baseball season traveling on airplanes, camped in strange hotel rooms--and all the time using his Palm computer to exchange e-mails with PJ while keeping track of the things they were supposed to do together using the appointment calendar. It'd be perfect! PJ wanted a Palm computer so badly himself that he couldn't imagine anyone not wanting one just as much. He was sure Jack would love it. He borrowed a pencil and paper from the sales clerk and carefully wrote down the information and model numbers. He'd have to call Walter as soon as possible the next day.
When PJ left Radio Shack, his head was buzzing with plans and ideas. Then, right in front of the store, he made another wonderful discovery. Sitting in the middle of the walkway was a photo booth, the kind you sat in for your picture, with different frames and backgrounds.
PJ trotted over and read the instructions. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. It was so lucky that he had worn his Red Sox hat! He took his bags inside the booth for safekeeping, sat down, and drew the curtain. It was five dollars for three pictures. After putting in the money, he scanned the different backgrounds and frames, made his selection, and let the booth take three pictures, each with a different expression. He went out and eagerly awaited his pictures. Finally, they came out. "Great! This is great!" he whispered to himself. The three pictures were all wallet-sized. Each one showed PJ wearing his Red Sox hat in a frame and background that looked like a baseball card.
He carefully placed his pictures where they wouldn't get bent, picked up his bags, and walked all the way back through the mall to the Sears store. After searching for awhile in the aisles, he finally asked a salesman for help and got directed to the counter that sold men's wallets. With the last of his money, just over sixteen dollars, he bought a nice brown leather wallet for $15.90 with tax, making sure it had the little plastic holders for cards and pictures. Getting out his three photos, he picked out the one he thought was best: a picture that showed him with a happy smile on his face. The sales lady at the counter trimmed the picture for him with scissors and put it in one of the plastic slots. "There," she said, as they both admired it, "I've put it right on top of the stack so it will be the first thing you're daddy sees every time he opens his wallet."
"I hope he likes it," PJ said wistfully
.
"I'm sure he will," the lady said, "any father would. It's a very thoughtful gift."
She wrapped the wallet for PJ in colorful holiday paper and handed it to him.
"Merry Christmas, honey," she said kindly. "I bet your daddy just thinks the world of you. I know he'll be glad to get this."
"Thank you, ma'am," PJ told her. "Merry Christmas!"
He carried his two bags out of the store, went to a bench to rest, and only then realized how tired he was. He checked his watch. Past four o'clock! He needed to call before he started back so Erik wouldn't worry about him. Finding a public phone required a search, but at last he located a bank of them in a corridor leading to the rest rooms. He dug in his pockets for some change, and thought he had enough for the call, but when he dialed the number for the House, a recorded voice told him to add another ten cents. Frantically he dug in his pockets and dredged up another dime. Boy, he hated payphones! The phone rang at last and a boy whose voice PJ didn't recognize answered. "Hello?"
"Hello," PJ said in as deep a voice as he could manage. "Let me speak to Erik Jantzen, please. This is his father."
"Hang on."
There was a long delay. PJ checked his pockets nervously. If he ran out of time, he had no more change to put in the phone! Then Erik finally came on. "Hello, Dad?"
"No, Erik. Listen, it's PJ."
"PJ." Erik whispered. "Where the heck are you? It's getting late."
"Three minutes!" said the recorded voice. "Please deposit another twenty-five cents for additional time."
"Erik," PJ said desperately, "I'm okay. I'm on my way home. I'll be there soon so don't worry. I'll see you at dinner, okay?"
"O. . ." The phone cut off Erik's voice.
PJ hung up. Now he had to figure a way to get back. Picking up his bags, he left the mall by the main entrance, emerged into a cold evening that was already getting dark, and walked through the huge parking lot toward the highway. Cars were streaming out of the mall as shoppers headed home. He waited for the traffic light to change, trotted across the highway, and started walking back toward Gordonsville, going slowly because he was tired and his legs were beginning to ache.
After half an hour, his two bags felt like they were filled with lead bars and
he had to put them down every five minutes to rest. But by then he was far
enough past the congested area to start looking for a ride. At each break, he
stood by the side of the road with his thumb out, knowing that he was taking a
chance hitchhiking with a stranger. Still, he had to do something. It was too
far to walk all the way back. Finally a car stopped. Grabbing his bags, PJ ran
over to the opened passenger door and peered hopefully in. The man who
was driving didn't look dangerous. "I need a ride to
"Okay, young man, hop in. I'll be glad to take you there." PJ slid the bags in ahead of him, scrambled onto the seat, and closed the door. "Christmas shopping?" asked the man as they drove off.
"Yes, Sir. I missed my ride back and got left. Thanks for stopping."
"No problem." The man glanced over at him, smiling. "My name's John Thatcher. What's yours?" He extended a hand.
"PJ, Sir. PJ Thorndyke." He smiled back and shook hands.
"I didn't want to leave you there, PJ, standing in the dark on this road. Pretty dangerous, hitchhiking in the dark. Dangerous anytime, really, these days. I've been doing some Christmas shopping too. Had to get some presents for my kids. Who were you getting presents for?"
"Oh," PJ answered, "just some stuff for my family."
The man nodded. "It'll be fun for me when my kids get old enough to buy me presents. They're too young now, though. I see you're a Red Sox fan."
"Yeah." PJ adjusted the cap on his head. "Do you like baseball?"
The man laughed and nodded again. "Baseball, football, basketball--everything, I guess. My son played Tee-ball last summer and I helped coach. We had a lot of fun."
PJ and the men talked about baseball for the rest of the short trip. As they came into Gordonsville, PJ asked, "Would you drive through the gate and drop me off where I show you? I don't want anyone to see me coming in with these bags."
The man chuckled. "Sneakin' in, huh? Okay, I'll help."
After they drove through the gates, PJ had the man drop him off behind the Middle School Quad. He got his bags out and put his head back into the car. "Mister, does your son like Jack Canon?"
"You mean the guy who's the star of the Red Sox? Sure he does."
"You think he'd like an autographed Jack Canon baseball card?"
"I know he would," the man said with another smile.
"If you give me your address, I'll make sure he gets one."
The man wrote his address down for PJ and added his telephone number as well. "That's in case you get stuck without a ride again," the man told him, pointing to it. "You call me instead of hitchhiking. I'll come get you. Hitchhiking's too dangerous."
"Thanks." PJ studied the written address. "Are you gonna be home Christmas day?"
"All day," the man said.
"I'll try to bring the card then. Thanks again for the ride. I hope you and your family have a Merry Christmas."
"You have a nice Christmas with your family, too, and if you come over on Christmas day, you'll be very welcome."
After the man drove off, PJ looked carefully around, making sure nobody was watching before slipping with his bags through the front door of the main building. Inside, the hallways were lighted, but all the classrooms and labs were locked and dark. Carrying his bags downstairs to the basement, PJ checked again to be sure he was alone, and hid the bags in the back of the janitor's closet near the furnace room.
Having safely concealed all his treasures for the time being, PJ retraced his steps out of the building and ran to the Dining Hall. He hadn't eaten since the brownie that morning and he was starving! He grabbed a meatloaf supper for himself and was ravenously chomping into it when Erik came in. Spotting PJ, he trotted over and sat down with a huge sigh of relief. "Man, am I glad you're back! I was really getting worried."
PJ mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, "Did anybody get suspicious?"
Erik grinned. "Mr. Williamson asked me where you were a couple of times, but I don't think he ever really got suspicious. Anyway, now you're back everything's okay." He looked around quickly. "I'm gonna get some food before it's all gone."
"Wait," PJ said. "I'll go with you. I gotta have seconds. I haven't eaten all day." After filling their trays, they both sat down again and Erik asked, "So, did you find what you wanted for Jack?"
"Oh yeah, I got just what I wanted. And guess what I saw at Radio Shack? The latest Palm computer!" He described all the desirable features of the little electronic marvel he'd seen.
"Those things are so awesome," Erik agreed. "I'd love to have one."
"Maybe Bill can get you one for Christmas," PJ said with a grin. "If you hint hard enough."
"Nope." Erik shook his head. "Tried it already. Dad said to forget it until I'm older. Hey, one of the latest computer magazines has an article about all the new Palm computers, and I know who's got it. We can check it out back at the room." After eating, the boys returned to the House where Erik borrowed the magazine and both sat on Erik's bed to study the article together.
"Here's the Radio Shack one," PJ said. "They have a picture of it."
"It's nice," Erik agreed.
PJ was surprised to find that there were several brands of Palm computers, some with features similar to the one at Radio Shack. He noted that all the top models had wireless Internet, e-mail, and appointment calendars. While Erik was briefly out of the room, taking a pee, PJ copied the brand names and model numbers onto his little sheet of specifications.
Afterwards, once Erik was back in the room, PJ undressed and climbed into bed, exhausted by all the walking and shopping. And there was still a lot to do! Tomorrow he had to smuggle all the presents into the House and up to the room without giving away any Christmas surprises. And he needed to call Walter about the Palm computer for Jack. . .
Jack. PJ stared at the ceiling, praying everything would be alright. He wanted so much for Jack to like his presents. "Please. . . please. . . please," he whispered. "It just has to work!" Then thinking, Jack will see his presents, an' he'll like them, an' he'll never, ever be mad about the contract an' visitin' me, an' it's all gonna be OK.
Jack . . . present . . . Walter . . . phone call. . . With these last, barely-conscious thoughts, PJ slipped into a deep and peaceful sleep.
Chapter Sixteen: Giving and Misgiving
As he forced himself out of bed the next morning for swim-team practice, PJ was still tired, but felt better after working out. He grabbed a quick breakfast and hurried over to the main School building well before classes started so he could talk with Mike, the janitor, about using his closet as a temporary hiding spot for the presents. Once they had arranged things, he talked Mike into letting him use the phone in the maintenance office for a collect call to New York. Although he intended to leave a message for Mr. Harris and call him later between classes, he lucked out and caught the young lawyer just as he was arriving for work.
"Hi, PJ!" Walter's voice sounded cheerful. "If you're calling about the contract, Jack's agent should be getting a call right about now from the Red Sox front office."
"Oh, that's good," PJ said. That is, I think so, he thought. "But Walter, can you help me get a Christmas present?"
"Sure, PJ. What is it you want?"
PJ explained about the Palm computer. "Oh, sure!" Walter exclaimed. "Those Palm types are great! We've all got one here. I use mine all the time. I'd be lost without it. You'd like one? What kind do you want? How 'bout I get you one like mine?"
"It's not for me," PJ told him. "It's for Jack. You see, he's going to be here to see me on Christmas an' I want to give him one for a present."
"Wow! Some present! You already fixed up a gazillion-dollar baseball contract for the guy. Don't you think you're piling it on a little thick?"
"We've . . . we've gotten to be pretty good friends," PJ said hesitantly.
"I guess so. Well, okay. You want me to get the kind I have?"
"What kind is it?"
Walter gave him a brand and model number. PJ looked at his list. He recognized the brand, it was a good one, there was one on his list, but the model number was different. "Can you get the XX1000 model?" he asked.
"Yeah, no problem," Walter replied. "That's their top of the line. It's really nice. I can get you the same discount we get. What do you want them to put on the case?"
"The case?" PJ repeated, momentarily confused.
"Yeah," Walter explained. "You get a nice leather case with these things. They can emboss whatever you want on it. Mine's got our firm's logo and my name."
PJ thought for a second. "Can they put the Red Sox logo on it, and Jack's name?"
"Probably. If they can't do the logo, they'll put on something like it. And you want his name, right? 'Jack Canon.'"
"Right," said PJ.
"Okay, I got it. XX1000. You want this soonest, I guess."
"Yes please, as soon as you can. I've got to have it ready before Christmas Eve."
"I'll have them send it overnight express. You'll have it tomorrow."
"Thanks, Walter," PJ said gratefully.
"PJ, you're getting all this stuff for Jack. Don't you want anything for just yourself? What should I get for you?"
For a moment, PJ was tempted. He thought how easy it would be to ask the lawyer for two Palm computers instead of one--and maybe throw in a DVD player, too. But suddenly, and very clearly, PJ realized he didn't want any of those things. Not, at least, the way Walter was offering them. And, he knew why he didn't want them. I don't need anymore "insurance presents," he thought to himself. Jack will be here. So he gave Walter his answer. "No. No, that's okay. I have everything I need. Thanks anyway."
"Okay, PJ," Walter replied in his cheerful voice. "Call me if you need anything. I'm going skiing over the holiday, but there'll be someone here to pick up the phone if you have any questions."
"Right, Walter. Thanks. Merry Christmas!"
"Yeah, you have a good one, too, PJ."
After he hung up, PJ sat and stared thoughtfully at the phone. Mike opened the door and put his head in. "The first bell just went! You better get going! Did you get through on your call?"
"Yes, thank you." PJ grabbed his book bag and started to leave. "I'll be back a few more times today," he explained. "I have to smuggle those presents over to my room. It'll take a few trips."
"Don't worry, they'll be safe," the janitor assured him with a grin. "I'll keep an eye on 'em." With a wave and an answering grin, PJ ran down the hall to the basement stairs. He just made it to his first class on time.
The morning phone call to Walter was just one incident in what turned out to be a busy day for PJ. Besides the excitement of prep for midterms, he had the added thrill of completing "Operation Christmas Present," as he called it. At noon, he slipped down to the basement, stuffed his book bag, and smuggled the first half of the presents up to his room, hiding them on the shelf of his closet. But he knew that the toughest gift to move was going to be the rolled-up rock poster. The tube was far too long to be hidden in his bag and the shape was a give-away. PJ, however, regarded this as a fun challenge and came up with a plan to use strategic misdirection and deception. First, he grabbed a sandwich to eat on the run. Then it was back to the janitor's closet where he wrapped his ski jacket around the poster as a rough disguise. With this chunky bundle under his arm, he ran back to the House, timing his arrival for the moment when kids were leaving their rooms and coming down the stairs to go back to class. "Excuse me, forgot my books!" PJ kept saying as he pushed past, going up the staircase. Everyone was too intent on beating the last bell to take any notice of what he was carrying. He left the poster propped in a corner of his closet and sprinted back to his own class, smiling in triumph. Once again, Agent X7 had smuggled the secret plans past the unsuspecting border guards! No one could stop him!
After school was over, PJ sneaked the rest of the presents up to his room before heading off to afternoon swim practice. This time he had to deal with the complication of Erik being there, dropping his things off on the way to basketball, but Secret Agent X7 handled the challenge with his usual cleverness by hiding the bulging book bag under his bed where he knew it would be safe until he could unpack it later.
At swim practice, Coach Bernard congratulated the team on how well they had done Saturday, and then gave them the toughest workout they'd had so far that season. PJ was dead-tired when he went to dinner, and later on, yawning at his desk, it was all he could do not to fall asleep over his school work. He sat there trying to concentrate on the exports of Peru, but his mind just refused to cooperate and kept drifting off, visualizing the Christmas present he hoped Jack would get him. A real Christmas present. the kind that came in a big, mysterious package wrapped with gold and red paper under the tree on Christmas morning. The kind of present I've never had in my whole life!
Thinking of this reminded PJ of his phone call with Walter. Have I been stupid? I could have had a Palm computer or a DVD player if I`d wanted. But then, looking over to where Erik was studying at his desk, he realized that it wouldn't be much fun to have things if Erik couldn't have them, too. And really, what did he need a Palm computer for? Jack needed it because he traveled all the time. Anyway, the Palm computer couldn't do anything PJ's desktop computer couldn't already do. If he wanted to play with a Palm computer, he could play with Jack's while he set it up to give to him. And the DVD player? Where would he put it? When would he use it? He barely used his CD player.
PJ sighed. That was part of the reason he had turned Walter down, but not the
big part. Presents you bought and gave to yourself were
hardly better than no presents at all. No one knew that better than
he did. For a gift you gave to yourself, there was no anticipation, no
excitement, no mystery--nothing. A real present was so
different! If Jack surprised him with a DVD player Christmas morning, PJ
would treasure it is his most precious possession. But a DVD player sent by
overnight mail from
PJ really hoped he would get something--a mysterious surprise that would be waiting just for him under the tree. And now that Jack was actually coming for Christmas, PJ thought he had a good chance. For sure Jack'll get me a gift of some sort! PJ visualized how he would do it if he were Jack. I'd call the Williamsons and get them in on it. Then I'd send the package to them, carefully wrapped in lots of brown paper to disguise it. I'd label it "old clothes" or something like that. Mr. Williamson could sneak it under the tree early Christmas morning for me to find.
"Erik?" he asked his roommate. "Did you see any big packages when the mail came today?"
"Nope." Erik shook his head. "Nothing but cards and letters."
Cards! PJ thought with a guilty start. Geez! I forgot all about doing them! Hurriedly he went over to his closet and dug out the box of cards he'd bought and put it on his desk. The cards he'd gotten were very simple ones. He'd not been able to afford anything fancy, but they had a cheerful design with a waving Santa and some holly and he thought they looked nice. The cards were blank inside, so in each one he painstakingly printed, "I hope you and your family have a very Merry Christmas! Your friend, PJ."
When he'd finished signing, he addressed them. He did one for Erik and his family, one for Jack, one for Charlie, one for the Williamsons, one for each of his teachers and coaches, one for Mike the janitor, one for Walter, one for Ms. Snyder, and a last one for Mr. Thatcher, the man who had given him the ride back from the mall. He added a little personal message to each one, thanking them for the things they had done for him in the past year. Then he sealed them all up. He put stamps only on those envelopes he didn't plan to deliver in person. They, the unstamped ones, were meant for the Williamsons, his teachers, his coaches, and Mike. Waiting until he was sure Erik was deep in his studying, PJ quietly took the stamped envelopes downstairs to put them in the mail basket. He hoped those cards would get to everyone by Christmas Eve.
The next day, the Palm computer arrived from
"PJ - thought you might want these. W."
Before he went back to class, PJ hurried to his room and hid both the computer and its instruction book on the shelf of his closet. He intended to study the book secretly over the next few days and didn't want Erik or the other kids to know he had the computer because they'd all be clamoring to play with it. The photographs he put into a drawer in his desk where they would be handy, because while he'd been looking at them, he had gotten another of his ideas.
That evening, after dinner, PJ went to the Hobby Craft Shop, and after consulting with Mr. Jenkins, its instructor, he used the last of his allowance money to buy a simple wood project kit that consisted of a little pen stand attached to a photo frame. He carefully sanded all the pieces and finished them with a combination varnish and stain. The following night he assembled his kit, and while the glue was drying, Mr. Jenkins showed him how to matte the picture he'd brought with him. He'd selected the shot of himself standing next to Jack, smiling up at him and handing him a bat. He inserted the matted picture under a plate of glass, slid both into the frame, and stepped back to admire his creation. Just right for Jack's desk, he thought. The instructor found an old cardboard box for him, and together they carefully packed the desk set into the box, protecting it with wadded-up newspaper. PJ carried it proudly back to his room and stored it with the rest of the presents.
On the day before the last day of term, PJ delivered his Christmas cards. He went to school early so he'd be sure of catching his friend Mike. Then, after each class, he gave a card to his teacher. At lunchtime he went to find Coach Lewis in the Field House. After PJ gave him his card, he handed him the gift-wrapped pen and pencil set. "You can open the present now, Coach," PJ instructed him. "It's not the do-not-open-until-Christmas kind." PJ was dying to know if his coach would like his gift.
The young man took off the wrappings, opened the box, and exclaimed, "Hey PJ, this is nice!"
PJ's face lit up with a big smile. "Do you really like it, Coach?"
"Heck, yeah! It's great. How did you know I needed this?"
"Oh, I just guessed." PJ tried to make this sound casual, but he was really happy Coach Lewis liked his present. "Thanks for all the help you gave me and Erik this year, Coach. I hope you have a nice Christmas."
"You have a good Christmas, too, PJ. Thank you."
"I will," PJ assured him. "An' don't worry, Coach. Erik and I will be out again for football next year. We're planning on being your stars."
PJ felt good after giving Coach Lewis his present, and felt just as good when he gave his swim coach his present. "PJ, this clipboard is perfect!" Mr. Bernard said with enthusiasm. "I'll start using it right now. My old one is shot. Thank you!"
"Yeah. I thought you might need a new one," PJ said. "I hope you have a nice Christmas, Coach. And thank you for giving up your holiday to give us the extra training."
Coach Bernard looked down on him and smiled. "PJ," he said kindly, "there isn't anything in the world I'd rather do than stay here and work with great kids like you. You have a nice Christmas yourself."
PJ saved Mr. Williamson's card for last so he could talk to him privately. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Williamson," he said when he found the housemaster in his study. "This is a Christmas card for you an' Mrs. Williamson. I put a note in it, but I also want to thank you in person for helping me so much when . . . when my parents . . ."
Mr. Williamson smiled at PJ and took the card. "This is very thoughtful of you, PJ!" He opened the card, read it and then looked up. "PJ, I want you to know it means a great deal to me to receive a card like this and I know it will mean a lot to Mrs. Williamson too. I'm very glad you're spending Christmas here with us."
"Thank you, Mr. Williamson." Then PJ added, "Mr. Williamson? My friend Jack Canon's coming to see me on Christmas day. That's okay, isn't it? I mean, you don't mind, do you?"
"No, PJ. I think that's very nice of Mr. Canon. You two have become rather good friends, I guess."
PJ nodded.
"Do you like Mr. Canon, PJ?"
"Yes, Mr. Williamson. Very much."
The housemaster nodded. "I've just been reading about Mr. Canon." He got a newspaper from the table and opened it so PJ could see the headline:
Sox Sign Canon!
Below the article was a picture of Jack signing a piece of paper. He had a big grin on his face.
"Do you know anything about this, PJ?"
The boy shook his head. "Jack never talks about that stuff."
Mr. Williamson set the paper aside. "I'm glad Mr. Canon is coming for Christmas, PJ. I think it will be a fine Christmas for all of us." He put his hand on PJ's shoulder. "Mrs. Williamson and I want to help you in any way we can. Please remember you can always come talk to us about things that worry you. All right?"
"Yes, Mr. Williamson. Thanks."
"Good. Now, isn't it tonight that you boys go out with your handbells?"
PJ nodded.
"Well, you better get started then."
To celebrate the last night before end-of-term, PJ, Erik, and their friends
went around campus with the handbells, playing and
singing Christmas carols. They went to all the houses, and then to the homes of
the teachers who lived on campus, ending up at the headmaster's big house. By
the time they got there, and since everyone was feeling a little cold, the
headmaster's wife gave them hot cocoa and cookies to warm them up. On the way
back to his House, PJ felt very content. "This is the best, isn't it
Erik?" he said. "You wouldn't believe how bad Christmas used to be
when I was living in
Erik looked curiously at his friend. PJ almost never talked about what life had been prior to his coming to Gordonsville. "Listen, PJ," he said, "why don't you come spend Christmas with me. You know my folks wouldn't mind."
PJ shook his head. "Naw. I'd just have to come right back anyway. The whole swim team is spending the holidays here working out."
"You could at least spend Christmas day with us."
"We'll have fun here, Erik," PJ assured him. "We did last year. Besides, . . ."--he looked around to be sure no one was close enough to overhear and then whispered to his friend--". . . Jack's coming to visit me on Christmas. Don't tell anybody!"
Erik grinned. "That's awesome, PJ." Lowering his voice, and glancing around just as PJ had, he added happily, "You'll have fun if he's coming."
"Yeah," PJ agreed. "The only trouble is, he's only staying for that one day. I hope it doesn't get too lonely around here for the rest of the two weeks."
"Well, the rest of the kids on the swim team will be here with you."
"I guess." PJ did not sound too enthusiastic.
"I know what let's do!" Erik said suddenly. "I'll ask my parents if I can come back early--right after New Year's. Then you and I can have five or six days to mess around together and have some fun!"
"Cool! That's an awesome idea, Erik!"
"Yeah. When you're not swimming you can help me do my basketball drills."
"I can show you how to play wall baseball, too." PJ said. "An' when I'm doing my weight training, you can do it with me!"
"Yeah, PJ!" Erik exclaimed, "that's a great idea. Plus we can go hike in the woods an' do all the other stuff we can't do when we have classes! This will be great!"
"Aren't your parents gonna be a little mad when you tell them you wanna leave early?"
"Nah," Erik said grinning. "They see me all the time anyway `cause they live close. My dad goes back to work after New Year's, so I'd just be hanging around."
"Wow!" PJ exclaimed. "Tell me this won't be the best Christmas ever!"
* * *
The last day of term finally arrived. It was only a half-day for the
school and Midterm exams filled the morning. At
PJ finished his tests a little early. He felt great as he walked back to the House because he knew he had done well on his exams, and now he was looking forward to Christmas and a fun vacation. The House was already full of parents and kids packing up, getting ready to leave. When PJ saw Erik's stepfather waiting in the front, he called out "Bill!," waved, and ran over to him. The big man shook his hand with a warm smile. "Hi, PJ. Is Erik around here somewhere?"
"He's right behind me. He was finishing his test just as I was leaving."
Bill regarded him fondly. "Erik's told me on the phone all about your swimming and your friend Jack Canon. Erik says you're doing well--and you haven't called me, so maybe he's right. Are you doing okay?"
"Yeah, I'm okay, Bill," PJ answered with a smile of his own.
"You still have all my numbers?"
"Right in my wallet." PJ got it out to show the card with the numbers written down, thinking Bill's really nice. Just like Jack.
Bill nodded. "You know I mean it when I say you can call me anytime, right?"
"I know, and, well, you know I appreciate it, Bill."
"Erik and I are both very fond of you, PJ," Bill said quietly. "Please remember that I'm always around to help if you need it." PJ hung his head, blushing. Bill was really embarrassing him. He looked up and saw Erik coming down the sidewalk.
"Uh-oh!" he exclaimed. "Here comes Erik. Bill, stall him for me before he goes upstairs. I've got a surprise for him an' I don't want him to see it!" Turning, PJ ran into the House and took all the flights of stairs two steps at a time. Arriving breathless in his room, he threw himself at his closet, rummaging through his presents, muttering, "Where did I put it? Where did I put it?" At last he found Erik's present, all neatly wrapped, and labeled, "To Erik, From PJ, Do Not Open Until Xmas!"
Hearing Bill and Erik's voices outside in the hall, he whipped his jacket over both package and Erik's Christmas card and stood by his desk trying to look innocent as the two came through the door. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "Erik, that earth sciences test was just what you said it would be!"
"Told ya' she'd have an essay on the water cycle and pollution," his roommate said, holding out a palm. "It's like her favorite thing. Now aren't you glad I made us memorize it?"
"Ace!" PJ told him, slapping the palm.
"Ace!" Erik slapped his in return. The two boys grinned at each other.
"So you think you both did pretty well on the tests?" Bill asked, smiling as he watched.
"We're OK, Dad," Erik assured him confidently. "It's not easy dragging PJ along, `cause you know how slow he is, but with my help he'll scrape a pass."
"It's a bummer having to tutor Erik every night and do all the homework for him," PJ told Bill, keeping a straight face. "But we have to be kind to the feeble-minded. I make sure he gets by."
Bill choked on a laugh as Erik threw a pillow at PJ who ducked, grinning, and said, "Come on, bird-brain. I'll help you pack."
The two boys hustled around getting Erik's things together, and then all went down to Bill's car, with PJ carrying the card and present wrapped in his jacket under his arm. After putting Erik's duffel bag in the back seat, Bill said, "Merry Christmas, PJ. I'll see you in January when I come up for Erik's game. Remember what I told you. Anytime!"
"I'll remember," said PJ.
"I hope you and Jack have a good Christmas, PJ," Erik told him. The two boys shook hands. "I'll try to get back like we planned."
"Thanks Erik." PJ winked at Bill and then added, "Oh say, Erik. Before you go, don't forget this." Producing the colorfully-wrapped package he had prepared from under his jacket, PJ presented it to his best friend with a happy grin, pleased that he had succeeded in surprising him. "Merry Christmas, buddy."
He then gave the card to Bill. "Merry Christmas, Bill. You can open the card now if you want. The note inside is for all of you."
Bill opened the envelope, read what was in the card, and smiled at PJ. "Thanks," he said simply.
Erik was staring, stricken, at the package in his hand. "PJ," he stammered, "PJ, I . . . I didn't . . . I mean . . ." He looked helplessly up at his stepfather.
Bill put his hand on Erik's shoulder and told him gently, "Son, you're very lucky to have a friend who cares enough about you to give you a present. I think you should wish him a Merry Christmas and tell him how much you appreciate him."
Erik turned his head slowly back to PJ and held out a hand. "Merry Christmas, PJ," he said as they shook again. "You're the best friend I've ever had. I just wish . . . well, you're just the best, that's all." But he sounded kinda down.
"You're about the only friend I've ever had, Erik," PJ replied, taken aback by his roommate's dejected tone of voice.
Bill and Erik got in the car. As they drove away, Erik and PJ waved to each other until the car turned toward the gate and went out of sight.
PJ sighed and wandered around for awhile before going back to the House. He didn't feel nearly as good as he thought he would after giving Erik his present. He'd planned and schemed for months picking out exactly the right gift, happily anticipating how surprised and glad Erik would be to get it. Instead, he realized now that he had only embarrassed his friend.
It's because he didn't get me anything.
PJ had hoped that Erik would get him a present, but he obviously hadn't. So Erik was embarrassed when he got one from PJ, and that wasn't what was supposed to have happened! PJ didn't want to embarrass his friend; he wanted him to be happy and to have fun using the neat video game accessory PJ had gotten for him! He sighed again. Maybe by Christmas Day Erik would forget about being embarrassed and just enjoy his present. He doesn't need to worry about not getting me anything! He's my friend! That's enough! Besides, PJ told himself later as he walked over to a nearly deserted Dining Hall for lunch, it's not like I ever get presents for Christmas anyway!
The House was quiet by the time he got back from lunch. Its empty hallways were eerie and full of echoes, the way they always seemed during holidays when almost no one was living there. PJ went up to his room and took Jack's Palm computer down from the shelf of his closet, along with the thick instruction book. Now that he was alone and no longer had to worry about secrecy, he could start setting it up. Opening the box, he saw that whoever had embossed the leather cover had really done a nice job. There was a big Red Sox logo, and Jack's name was printed neatly in block capitals under it. He got the little computer out of the case, opened the instruction book, and began a heavy session of study and experiment.
By suppertime, PJ felt he'd just about mastered the basics of the device. Putting it carefully away, he went to the Dining Hall to eat, finding himself the only one in the big cafeteria. Just like last year, he thought. Not that many staying for the Christmas weekend. After eating, he went back to the House and double-checked the TV Guide to make sure "It's A Wonderful Life" was going to be on when he thought it would be. In PJ's mind, no run-up to Christmas could possibly be complete without seeing Jimmy Stewart. Once he'd confirmed the time, he knocked on the Williamson's door and asked if he could see the movie with them, knowing he'd be welcome because they liked it almost as much as he did. Mrs. Williamson made popcorn. They all had a good time.
Later on, it felt strange getting ready for bed alone in his room on the empty top floor. The nearly-deserted House seemed much too quiet. It's like this every holiday, he thought. It always took him days to get used to it. He got under the covers and tried to go to sleep, but the gloomy silence upset him. Even his little nightlight didn't seem to help.
He got up, put on bathrobe and slippers, and padded softly down the stairs to the front hall, where he stood in front of the door to the Williamson's apartment and listened. There wasn't a sound. The House was completely still except for an occasional creak in the walls or the whoosh of a gust of wind outside. He wondered if Mr. Williamson was sitting in his chair reading, smoking his pipe. Or if Mrs. Williamson was in the kitchen, humming softly to herself, washing and putting away the popcorn bowls. He kept listening at the door. But there was nothing. Turning, he tiptoed into the dark common room where the Christmas tree loomed, a dark mass in the corner. PJ sat down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands, wishing he hadn't embarrassed Erik. PJ liked giving presents, but maybe presents were just a bad idea; maybe he should just throw away all the presents he'd bought. Except the ones for Jack. He couldn't throw those away.
I hope Jack got a present for me.
He wondered what it would be. Stretching out on his back on the sofa, PJ tried to visualize it. Prob'ly it's here in the House right now. It has to be. The Williamsons prob'ly have it hidden in order to surprise me. PJ even considered spending the night right there on the sofa, and anyway, the House didn't seem so empty this close to the Williamson's door. But he decided it was too weird. Reluctantly, he got to his feet and crept back up stairs.
Thoughts he didn't want to listen to were waiting in ambush for him in the top hallway. To get away from them, he went quickly to his room and got under the covers again. Still, the thoughts pushed insistently into his mind. Last Christmas I waited for a present too. One from my mother and father. It never came.
Jack's different, PJ answered the dark. He'll give me something.
But only because I bribed him.
"No," PJ whispered, curling into a ball. Yet the thoughts kept coming. When I give my presents to the Williamsons and my three friends, I'll just embarrass them, too, like Erik. Or they'll be mad. Or they won't like them and they'll throw them away. There's something wrong with me. That's why no one likes me. Even my parents hated me.
"They're dead," PJ whispered.
Because I killed them. What kind of kid hates his own parents enough to kill them?
PJ sat up suddenly in his bed. Across the room, shining faintly in the glow of his nightlight, PJ could see his poster of Jack Canon. He stared at it, and suddenly, more clearly than anything else, he heard Jack's voice in his mind. It takes courage to play this game, Tiger. Stand in there and hit!
"Stand in and hit!" PJ whispered. "Anything's Possible!"
He got up, went to his desk to take the picture of Jack and himself off the mirror, brought it over to his nightstand, and propped it up by his nightlight so he could see it more clearly. Then he got back into bed. He felt a little less awful about stuff.
He fell asleep looking at the picture. For some unknown reason, he didn't have any dreams. None. Maybe there was some well-deserved giving back in the great universal scheme of things.
Chapter Seventeen: God Bless Us, Every One!
When PJ got back from breakfast on Christmas Eve morning, he found a letter addressed to him sitting on the hall table.
He was immediately apprehensive.
PJ almost never got any mail, and when he did, it almost never was good news.
He picked up the letter and cautiously examined it. The envelope was heavy,
creamy paper with the name of his
It was a Christmas greeting. PJ had never gotten a Christmas card before, and this one was beautiful. On the front was an engraving of two big church bells surrounded by angels with trumpets and all kinds of antique instruments, everything done in gold. The message inside featured more of the raised, engraved letters:
Best Wishes for a Happy
Underneath, in smaller letters was engraved:
Walter Harris
Walter Harris had sent him a Christmas card!
Eagerly, PJ looked at the back of the card and inside the envelope for a personal message, but there was nothing. PJ liked to write a little note on every card he gave so the person getting it would know that he'd personally made the card just for him, but he decided that Walter probably had to send out so many that he just couldn't put a note in every one. Note or not, however, PJ was delighted just to have gotten a Christmas card in the first place! He showed it proudly to the Williamsons and then took it to his room where he propped it up on top of his computer so people could see it if they came in.
Walter's card put PJ back into a Christmas spirit. He closed the door so no one would disturb him, got all his presents out of the closet, and, except for the Palm computer which he placed on the desk to gift-wrap later, arranged everything carefully on his and Erik's beds. Then he got out the colorful Christmas wrapping paper he'd bought, along with the fancy ribbons, his gift labels, and a pair of scissors.
First, he had to do the presents that were still not wrapped, and it took a long time because PJ was not good at wrapping. He had to go slowly and carefully, using tape to hold the paper down. Getting the ribbons to look nice was a chore, but at last he had all his presents dressed in bright holiday paper tied up with fancy bows. For each present, he filled out one of his gift labels, printing the name of the person getting the present and signing each one "Merry Christmas! From PJ."
He kept his own "insurance presents" for last because he wasn't quite sure how to label them. The year before, when he discovered that he'd be spending Christmas morning with kids opening presents from their parents, he'd labeled all these fake gifts "Merry Christmas! From Mom and Dad," and stuck them under the tree early Christmas morning when no one was looking. The scheme had worked perfectly, and he'd sailed through the present-opening without raising any suspicions. This year, obviously, he'd have to come up with some other ruse.
After giving it some thought, PJ labeled one of his own presents "Merry Christmas! From Jack" and on another put "Merry Christmas! From Erik." No one would think it unusual for him to get presents from Jack or his roommate. He considered the third "insurance present" for awhile and then, feeling very daring, wrote "Merry Christmas! From Santa." Let people think what they liked. He'd always wanted to get a present labeled like that. If anybody asked, he could always say it was from Walter or Ms. Snyder. When he'd finished, he sat down, admiring the array of gifts. The only one he wasn't completely happy about was the rock poster. No matter how you wrapped a rolled-up poster, it still kept looking like a rolled-up poster. It kinda spoiled the surprise, but what else could you do?
PJ carried out an inventory. Palm computer included, which he hadn't finished with yet, there were five presents for Jack, six for other people, and three for himself. A total of fourteen gifts. He hadn't realized he'd bought so many! Sneaking them downstairs during the night was going to be interesting. . .
Once he'd hidden all the wrapped presents under his bed, PJ started work on the Palm. He wanted to put all his school and sports events into the appointment calendar so Jack would be able to pick the ones he wanted to attend. Digging out his lists and schedules, he began entering the data and found it to be a time-consuming job. PJ'd thought he understood the instructions for the calendar software, but there were some tricks he didn't discover until he actually started using it. After some false starts and a re-study of the manual, he finally got the remainder of his swim-team schedules in and took a break for lunch.
After eating, he came back to his desk and tackled the rest of the job. The spring and summer schedules were tough because he had to guess at all the dates, but he went ahead anyway. The important thing was to get the information in. Jack could change the dates later. For his fall football schedule, a year away, PJ did the best he could using the schedule for the season just past. The last thing he put in was the Father-Son Dinner. That date he knew! Homecoming was always two weekends before Thanksgiving, and he took pleasure in musing, By that time, Erik and I might be football stars and Jack might have won the World Series!
PJ smiled to himself as he visualized how much fun it was going to be for Erik and Bill and Jack and himself to all go to the Dinner together. He entered the date, saved it, and Jack's Palm computer was ready! Or almost ready--because just for fun, PJ decided to test its remote e-mail feature. He thought for a moment before typing an e-mail message on his own desktop machine and sending it to Jack's address on the new device. When he went back and looked, the little display was showing the "e-mail waiting" icon. It would be there for Jack to find when he got his present. After slipping the computer into its leather case, he caressed the embossed logo with his hand, put everything into the box along with the instruction book, and carefully wrapped it, tying it with red and green ribbons. As a final touch, he attached the following label:
"For Jack. Merry Christmas! From Your Friend PJ"
PJ leaned back in his chair and sighed. Everything was ready!
He placed the wrapped computer beneath his bed next to the other presents and
checked the time.
Alone. I'm always alone at Christmas. It wasn't so bad before I knew Erik. But now. . . . PJ looked around his room, feeling darkness creeping towards him out of its corners. He turned to his big poster of Jack and the image of the tall, smiling confident man filled his mind. Jack's coming! Jack's coming to spend Christmas with me. I'm not gonna be alone after all!
Right then PJ knew what to do. Erik would be with him too! It was time for a special imaginary surprise visit from his best friend! He ran out of the room to the top of the stairs, setting everything up in his mind, just the way it ought to be!
There was Erik, coming up the steps, and in his hands was a package wrapped in bright-red paper with a big silver ribbon and bow!
"Here's your present, PJ," Erik told him with a grin. "Sorry I didn't have it with me yesterday, but I thought you were coming to my house for Christmas, so I had it there. It's a book, PJ. Kim by Rudyard Kipling. He wrote The Jungle Book. You'll like it."
PJ thanked him and told him it was the best present he could have given.
The boys went to their room and Erik asked what they should do to kill the time. "Wall ball!" PJ exclaimed. He would teach Erik how to play wall ball. They dug into his closet for a baseball and PJ's old fielder's glove. The glove was over three years old, but PJ had kept it oiled and in good condition. After he dressed in his ski jacket and Red Sox hat, he and Erik walked over to the Field House.
The doors to the Field House were locked, so they circled
around the big building and found a wall in the back they could use. PJ taught
the Wall-Ball game to Erik just the way Charlie and Jason had taught it to him
at Jack's house in
They played for about an hour and then wandered down to the sports fields. When they came to the Middle School baseball field where they had often played together the previous spring, PJ looked over at the third-base dugout, remembering how he had sat in it on the day of the Father-Son Dinner last Homecoming. "Let's not stay here," he told Erik. "Let's go over to the Varsity field."
They ran across to the big field and chased each other around the base paths a few times. Then Erik let PJ pitch to him while he did some imaginary batting. PJ fired a few good fast ones by his friend but still could not get his curveball to curve very well. Erik told him his pitching was getting a lot better anyway.
After they pitched a few more times, it began to get dark and Erik said they had better start back. They walked slowly toward campus, trying to prolong their visit, talking quietly to each other, but at last as they neared the House, Erik said he had to go. He turned and walked off across the grass.
"So long, Erik," PJ called softly. "Thanks for the book. I'll see you next week."
Erik turned and waved. Then PJ watched him disappear in the twilight.
PJ started to walk quickly toward the House. He wanted to check the TV listings before he went upstairs.
"Hi, PJ!"
Mr. Williamson's voice startled him! He looked up. Mr. and Mrs. Williamson were standing on the lawn in front of the House. PJ had been so engrossed with Erik's imaginary presence that he hadn't seen them as he came walking up. His stomach knotted in fear. Had they heard anything?!
"Kind of the wrong season for baseball, isn't it?" Mr. Williamson inquired curiously when he noticed PJ's glove.
"Ah, yeah, I guess." With a nervous laugh, PJ did some fast thinking
and explained, "I was just trying out a new practice drill I learned in
The housemaster nodded. "I imagine they play all year 'round down there."
"Who was that you were just talking to, dear?" Mrs. Williamson asked him.
PJ looked at her in feigned innocence. "I wasn't talking to anybody."
"I thought I heard you talking to one of the other boys," Mrs. Williamson went on. "Anyway, it's time for all you boys to come in now and get ready for dinner and church."
"Yes Ma'am," PJ said.
Mr. Williamson was peering at him closely. "PJ, tonight I have a video tape of `A Christmas Carol' for us all to watch. I want you to be there. Don't go off hiding anywhere."
"Oh, you bet!, Mr. Williamson," PJ said with enthusiasm. "I was just going to check the TV Guide to see if it would be on tonight." That was one movie PJ just loved.
"All right. Go inside now. Get cleaned up and get ready to go to dinner."
On the way back to his room, PJ breathed a sigh of relief. Boy,that was a close one! All he needed was for someone to catch him talking to himself! That would get him a one-way ticket to the funny farm for sure! PJ had already been there once, and he never wanted to go again!
He knew there was lots of time, so he had a long shower and didn't hurry getting dressed. He put on clean underwear and socks, pulled on his good gray pants and black loafers, selected a new white dress shirt out of a drawer, and fiddled around trying on different belts until he found one he liked. Now it was decision time. Should he wear his new Red Sox tie tonight or save first wearing it until tomorrow?
He could not resist putting it on tonight. It was just too cool looking. When Jack saw him wearing it tomorrow, he wouldn't know PJ had already worn it once. He got the tie out of its tissue-paper wrapping and put it on, knotting it carefully in front of his mirror. It looked awesome, even better than he'd anticipated. The tie was too long, but that was okay. PJ had known it would be. He looked down and snickered at the way it dropped over his crotch, knowing full well what Erik would say about that! He took the end and tucked it neatly into his pants. It looked fine. If he kept his jacket buttoned, no one'd even notice!
After donning his navy sport jacket, PJ buttoned it and examined the result in the mirror. Awesome all the way! The white shirt, the dark jacket, the colors in the tie--it all looked perfect! The tie had both the Red Sox and the red-and-blue Gordonsville colors so it couldn't have been better if he'd planned it! He performed a final combing of his finely-spun blonde hair, proudly admiring his reflection in the mirror. He looked good. He hoped everyone would notice the tie.
Downstairs, the common room was deserted. Over in the corner, the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree looked pretty, and PJ noticed there were already some packages under it. The Williamsons must have put them there. He went over for a peek. Nothing had his name on it, but he confidently assured himself, They'll put more stuff out tonight after we've all gone to bed. Turning on the TV, he surfed the channels until he found a station that was broadcasting a picture of a fire in an old-fashioned fireplace with Christmas music in the background. Eventually, Danny, Pedro, and Mike, the other three boys spending Christmas at the House, came down, each one dressed like PJ in jacket and tie. But PJ didn't have to worry about anyone not noticing his tie because they all admired it, wanted to know where he'd gotten it, and asked if his friend Jack Canon had given it to him.
Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Williamson came in, all dressed up themselves, and ready to take them over to the Dining Hall. As they walked across the campus, PJ could see small groups from other houses heading in the same direction. All the buildings were lit up, and PJ saw Christmas lights glowing softly in some of the windows. He wished it had snowed the way it had the previous year so there could be a White Christmas like in his favorite Christmas song, but so far there hadn't even been a flake.
The Dining Hall Christmas decorations had already been hung for a week, and for
the special Christmas meals, the long tables had been set up with white cloths
and nice place settings. All the housemasters and boys staying for the holiday
at the
PJ enjoyed that dinner immensely because it had all his favorites: fruit cocktail, almonds, walnuts, Waldorf salad, roast beef (with unlimited seconds), baked potato with sour cream, string beans, hot cider, cold milk, and three kinds of pie (apple, pumpkin, and lemon meringue), along with vanilla ice cream. PJ stuffed himself until his eyes popped, but was very careful during the meal to keep a napkin tucked in over his tie to prevent any accidental staining. As a precaution against feeling hungry later, he stuffed a few handfuls of nuts in his pockets when nobody was looking.
After dinner, everyone went to Chapel, something PJ loved because he thought the Christmas Eve Services at Gordonsville was fun. They sang Christmas carols, and boys from another house played a medieval Christmas piece on recorders. PJ had to admit they sounded pretty good, and he hoped he would do as well playing his violin at the Christmas-Day Service. Finally, the chaplain read the Christmas story from Luke, PJ's favorite ever since he had read it in a book with big color illustrations when he was a little kid. He knew the King James version by heart, loved the sound of the old English, and mouthed the words silently as the chaplain read them: And it came to pass in those days that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. . . .
They finished up by singing "Silent Night," after which everyone returned to their respective houses. It was clear and very cold as they walked across campus. PJ looked up at the night sky. There was no moon; the stars were all out, and he thought, The stars always look brighter on Christmas Eve then on any other night of the year. Just above the trees on the far side of the Quadrangle, a falling star briefly traced a path across the sky. PJ tugged on Mrs. Williamson's hand. "Look!" he exclaimed softly, pointing. She glanced up too late, but that didn't stop PJ from making a silent wish:
Please . . . someday. . . let Jack Canon call me "Son. . .
When they got back to the House, PJ and the other boys changed into pajamas, bathrobes, and slippers while Mrs. Williamson made a big bowl of popcorn. PJ decided not to be a hog and emptied his pockets of the nuts he had grabbed, putting them in another bowl. After Mr. Williamson put the tape of A Christmas Carol into his player, they all watched it.
This movie was another one of PJ's favorites. He'd seen almost every film and TV version of the Dickens classic, including the Disney cartoon. He knew all the high points by heart, and said them under his breath along with the actors on the screen--until he caught Mr. Williamson looking at him while he was doing it near the end of the movie. Blushing, he looked away quickly and stopped. That's the second time they've caught me doing that today, he thought uneasily.
After the movie was over, Mr. Williamson started the tape rewinding and asked, "Have any of you boys ever read the book A Christmas Carol?" None of them had. "It was written by Charles Dickens," Mr. Williamson continued. "We have it in our school library. You might want to take it out and read it this week."
PJ thought about that. He knew all about A Christmas Carol. Who didn't? But it had never occurred to him to read it! Duh-h! He decided to check the library on Monday.
The boys all helped Mrs. Williamson clean up, and then everyone drifted off on his own pursuits, with PJ heading upstairs to put the next phase of "Operation Christmas Present" into effect. Now that the Williamsons had some presents under the tree, it was safe for PJ to put a few of his gifts out, so he selected two "insurance presents," the ones labeled "From Jack" and "From Erik," brought them downstairs, and placed them in inconspicuous corners where they were partially hidden by pine branches. Next, he went up and got all five of Jack's presents, but they made such a big armload that he was spotted by Danny as he came down the stairs. As a result, while he was depositing the wrapped packages beneath the tree, Danny and the other two boarders, Pedro and Mike, crowded around, peering over his shoulder, asking about them. When he revealed they were for Jack Canon and that Jack was coming for Christmas Day, it caused a lot of excitement. Mike shook his head in disbelief. "It's like so incredible that he's friends with you and coming for Christmas. He's, like, a national celebrity!"
"Why are you giving him so many presents?" Pedro asked.
"Oh. . . ." PJ made it sound casual. "It's just a bunch of little things."
"This is gonna make Christmas a lot funner," said Danny, the youngest. "PJ, ask him to sign a shirt for me. I didn't get a chance the last time he was here."
"I just hope he makes it," PJ told them. "He's supposed to be in
Once PJ had Jack's presents safely deposited, he went back to his room and prepared for the final, most difficult part of "Operation Christmas Present": the after-midnight sneak.
He set his alarm for
The alarm, when it went off, almost gave him a heart attack, waking him from such a deep sleep that for a moment he had no idea who or where he was. He patted himself frantically, checking to be sure he hadn't wet the bed, and then fumbled with the alarm clock to stop the loud beeping, certain that it had awakened the whole House, or rather, what others remained in it! He stood up, listening carefully. But the place was silent. Cautiously, he peeked out the door of his room. Nothing. The coast was clear.
He dragged out the rest of the presents from under his bed. They made a full arm-load. If he dropped one going downstairs, the noise would rouse the others, and he considered making two trips, but decided to risk just one. Extra trips on the creaky stairs increased the risk of detection.
Gathering everything, PJ took his load of gifts along the hallway, and then, slowly and carefully, crept down the stairs. A few times, the steps creaked so loud he was sure he would wake someone. On the first landing, he came close to stumbling, and only a quick recovery saved him. At last, panting a little, he made it across the downstairs hall rug and into the common room. All the lights were off, but in the faint glow coming from the hall night-light, PJ could tell there were more packages under the tree then there'd been before. The surprise ones! The Williamsons put them out after everybody went to sleep!
PJ was sure one was his. There was a big one that he was positive was IT!
He tried to read the cards on the packages, but it was too dark and he finally gave up. He would just have to wait until morning. He distributed all his presents and then tiptoed back to the hall, turning at the door for one last look into the room. The Christmas tree loomed in the shadows, dim night lights from the hall putting a mysterious glow on the shiny gift-wrappings of the boxes and packages. PJ lingered a moment enjoying the sight, the piney smell of the tree, and that special feeling he always associated with Christmas Eve. Then he passed noiselessly back up the stairs, reaching his hallway with a little sigh of satisfaction. "Operation Christmas Present" completed without a hitch! He sat down on the top step and for several minutes listened to the silence of the House. Afterwards, in a hushed whisper, he recited the poem "A Visit From St. Nicholas" from memory. When he got to the end, he softly proclaimed a happy "Merry Christmas to All, And to All a Good Night!" Then, like Tiny Tim, he added, "God bless us, every one!"
Absolute silence followed. Nothing was stirring, not even a mouse, at least as far as PJ was concerned. He got up, went down the hall into his room, and after taking off his robe and slippers, set the alarm for six-thirty. Once under the covers, he fell asleep quickly--but not before thinking one more time about the wonderful present, shining in its wrappings, which he was sure waited for him under the tree. . .
* * *
CONCLUSION OF INSTALLMENT SEVEN
Editor Paul K. Scott's e-mail: paulkdoctor@gmail.com