INSTALLMENT
EIGHT
An Exchange of Gifts
from
THE FATHER
CONTRACT
By Arthur Arrington
Edited Paul Scott
NOTE: Please don't forget to make a contribution to Nifty to make this serial a continuing reality. I, A.J., and PJ will be eternally grateful.
Chapter Eighteen:
An Exchange of Gifts
On Christmas morning, PJ was up even before his alarm went off. Frost covered his window glass. Outside it was still dark, although there was already a glow on the eastern horizon. The House was quiet.
Donning bathrobe and slippers, he tiptoed downstairs, anxious to avoid anyone else so he could look for Jack's present without being seen. The common room was dark, the tree and presents just as he'd left them in the middle of the night. He plugged in the tree lights, and the room sprang to life with Christmas magic, piled-up gifts gleaming in their bright wrappings! Starting with the largest, PJ quickly went from package to package, checking for his name.
There was nothing! Nothing from Jack, nothing from anybody. The only gifts with PJ's name were the "insurance" ones he'd bought himself.
The disappointment was bitter--but not entirely unexpected. He didn't cry; he didn't do anything stupid. He kept control of himself and sat down on the sofa, staring at the Christmas lights. PJ saw clearly what'd happened. Once again, just as with the chemistry set, he'd set himself up. He'd pinned his hopes on something he'd no reason to expect, and then been disappointed when he didn't get it. That was dumb. By now he really ought to know better. There is no one, no one, you can depend on! The only sure things are the ones you do for yourself.
Jack hadn't sent anything because there was no reason to send anything. What had PJ sent him? A card. A card he probably hadn't even opened yet.
And maybe he's not even coming today.
"No," PJ whispered to himself. "He'll come." PJ was not ready to give up on that yet. He was reasonably sure that if Jack said he was coming, he would come, and PJ brightened a bit when he thought of that. Maybe Jack would bring the present with him when he arrived.
PJ heard noises upstairs. The others must be getting up. He arranged a smile on his face, went into the hall, and climbed the stairs to the first landing. Mike and the other boys were clattering down, dressed like PJ in robes and slippers. "Merry Christmas, PJ!" they all said, rushing past on the steps. "Come on, PJ," Danny shouted. "Let's see what we got!"
PJ joined them as they raced down, bursting into the common room. "Boy, what a haul!" Pedro gloated. "I knew my folks would come through." He and the other boys began checking packages. "Hey, look at this!" cried Danny. "My big brother sent something all the way from Germany! Whad you get, PJ?" They were all looking over at him.
PJ, blessing once again his foresight in taking out "insurance," answered casually, "Oh, I got a present from Jack. And one from Erik."
"Hey!" Mike was holding up a package. "There's something here from you, PJ! Neat! Whadya' get me?"
PJ grinned at him. "If I tell ya, it won't be a surprise."
"Oh cool!" announced Pedro. "I got one from you too!"
At that point, Mr. Williamson came in and briskly exclaimed, "All right, boys, no opening presents until after breakfast." Then he smiled. "Merry Christmas to all of you. Now, upstairs and get dressed. We're all going over for breakfast in half-an-hour. Remember! Shirts and ties." He shooed them out of the room. Disappointed at having to wait to open their gifts, the boys ran obediently up the stairs.
In the privacy of the shower, PJ's control slipped and he cried a little. Seeing the other boys reacting so happily over presents from their families had hit hard because he'd really been counting on getting something this time. But he felt better afterwards and told himself the day would still be lots of fun. There'd be the enjoyment of surprising his friends when they saw the presents he'd given them. And Jack would be coming and get surprised by his presents, too. There would be another big dinner, and his violin solo in Chapel. By the time he was dressed in white shirt and gray pants, his natural optimism had reasserted itself. As he knotted the cherished Red Sox tie, he'd even turned reasonably happy.
Mr. and Mrs. Williamson took the four boys over to the Dining Hall for breakfast. The two big tables for Upper and Middle/Lower Schools were still set up, and awaiting them on the cafeteria line were cereal, toast, milk, scrambled eggs, sausages, coffee cake--all with unlimited seconds! PJ loved coffeecake so much that he had three pieces. But he noticed that nobody hung around too long, not even the big kids in Upper School. Everyone wanted to get back and start opening their gifts. Finally, Mr. Williamson signaled that it was time for their group to start back to the House. The early morning air was clear and so cold that PJ felt the tips of his ears begin to ache. To stay warm, he and the other boys excitedly ran back and forth, begging the housemaster and his wife to walk faster. PJ was sure they were going slowly on purpose because he saw the Williamsons smile at each other.
At long last they made it back. Everyone gathered in the common room, Mr. Williamson holding a steaming cup of coffee, and Mrs. Williamson with several packages in her arms. "Before we start," she said warmly, "Mr. Williamson and I want to give you these." She handed a present to each boy, and the housemaster once again told them "Merry Christmas!"
PJ admired the wrapping on his small, oblong package. It was dark blue with a design on it of Santas and reindeer. The ribbon was bright red, and there was a tiny card that said "For PJ." He opened the gift slowly to prolong the surprise. As the wrapping fell away, he saw the cardboard box and guessed exactly what was in it. A new pair of swim goggles! The best kind, too. They were exactly what he needed. He could use his old pair for practice and save these new ones for meets. He smiled, looking up at the Williamsons. "Thanks," he told them. He was truly sincere.
While the other boys were all opening their own boxes and thanking the Williamsons, PJ got up and went over to the tree. He picked up the two gifts he had bought for the Williamsons and presented them, saying happily, "These are for you. Merry Christmas!"
The three other boys, who had not gotten them anything, looked on enviously as Mrs. Williamson held up her scarf. "Oh, this is lovely, PJ!" She beckoned him over for a hug. "Thank you, dear." Mr. Williamson opened his package, took out the pipe, and held it in his hands, turning it over and over. He raised his eyes and smiled at PJ. "This is very thoughtful of you, my boy. Thank you." He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a flat tobacco tin. "In honor of you and the day, I'm going to have a pipe-full right this instant!" He filled the bowel with tobacco, tamped it down, and applied a fat wooden match. When he had the pipe drawing well, he blew out a cloud of fragrant smoke and said with a tone of contentment, "Why don't each of you boys get one of your other presents now and take turns opening them. That way we can all enjoy seeing what you've gotten."
"I'm opening my
brother's package from
Mike laughed and told him, "Yeah, it's probably a cuckoo clock."
PJ went and retrieved the book package that had the "From Santa" on it. He was feeling a little embarrassed now about putting that on the label. He thought he had best get rid of it before anyone saw what he'd written. He was just starting to take all the wrapping off when he heard noises coming from the sidewalk outside. The front door opened and a voice called out, "Merry Christmas! Is anybody home?" Instantly he recognized whose voice it was.
"Jack!" he cried. Dropping his partially-unwrapped book, he ran into the hall.
Jack Canon was standing in the open door wearing the same confident grin as on the poster in PJ's room, his large bulk made even bigger by a heavy wool coat. "Hi, Tiger," Jack said, shaking PJ's hand. "Say, don't you look spiffy! I've never seen you all dressed up!"
PJ had a fleeting moment of disappointment when he saw that Jack wasn't carrying any presents. But it passed in an instant. Just having Jack here is present enough! He beamed up at the man, so much happiness and pride bubbling all through him that he had to blink back tears. Pride because Jack was there to see him, just like he'd promised--and happiness because now it was going to be the best most wonderful Christmas of his whole life!
"Merry Christmas, Jack!" More than anything PJ wanted to give Jack a gigantic hug, but the other three kids had run into the hall behind him and were crowding around. Then Jack saw the Williamsons and strode over to greet them, shaking hands with the housemaster and telling Mrs. Williamson, "Ma'am, I hope I'm not coming too early. If I'm in the way, just boot me out. I'll come back later."
"No, no," Mrs. Williamson protested. "You're just in time! PJ's been expecting you. We were just getting ready to open more presents. Come on in. Can we get you some coffee?"
"Coffee!" Jack's big smile got even wider. I'd love some! I've been driving all night." He stepped into the common room and saw the tree. "Oh man! Look at all those presents. Geez! That reminds me . . ."
He turned to PJ. "You remember what I was doing last night, right, Tiger?"
PJ nodded. "You were playing Santa at a charity place."
"That's right." Jack grinned at him. "And, you know, I did such a good job that the real Santa Claus paid me a visit later to thank me." All the boys smiled at this. "Yup," Jack continued. "And while we were talking, he asked me to do him a favor." The other boys started laughing, but PJ just stared. A great hope was blooming inside him. "You see," Jack said, "the old boy was supposed to swing by here last night and drop something off. But he couldn't because there was some problem. I don't know what it was. One of the reindeer threw a shoe or something. So, he didn't make it to Gordonsville."
PJ's heart began to race. It couldn't be, he thought.
"So, anyway," Jack concluded, "Santa asked me to deliver this thing for him."
It is! PJ thought. It is! It is!
Jack went out the door for a second and came back carrying a big, shiny, long object. It was dazzlingly white with red and blue racing stripes. It was, in fact, a brand-new snowboard. He handed it to PJ. "Merry Christmas, Tiger!"
PJ took the board from Jack and stared at it in wonder. He'd never seen anything so beautiful. It wasn't wrapped, it wasn't under the tree--and, it didn't matter! It was a real Christmas present! And Jack had gotten it just for him! A real Christmas present at last! For a split second his hands shook. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye which he quickly brushed away before anyone could see it. He looked up at Jack with a heart so full he couldn't say a thing!
Jack smiled at him. "Do you like it, Tiger?"
PJ nodded. "It's the best . . ."--he stroked his hand over the silky fiberglass--". . . it's the best present I've ever had!"
The other boys crowded around to see. "Oh man," Pedro said, "PJ, you lucky dog!"
"It's a pro-model!" Danny added enviously.
PJ looked up at Jack again. "I sure wish we had some snow so I could try it."
Jack laughed. "Yeah, snow! Well, I tried to get you some, PJ. We have a bunch of it up in Boston. I wanted to bring some here with me, but the darn weatherman wouldn't cooperate!"
Everybody else laughed too, and Mr. Williamson observed, "I'm sure we'll have some before winter's over."
"Now look, PJ," Jack said seriously. "Just one thing. Promise me you'll be careful. If you break an arm or a leg on this thing, that swim coach of yours is gonna want to murder me!" Everyone laughed again.
"I'll be careful," PJ said, grinning.
As they escorted Jack into the common room, the other boys wanted to take the board and examine it, but PJ kept it tightly in his hands and put it down next to where he was sitting so he could keep an eye on it. He picked up the book he'd unwrapped and showed it to Jack. "The Kid Who Only Hit Homers," Jack said thoughtfully. "That's a good one, PJ."
"Have you read it?" PJ asked in surprise.
Jack nodded. "I know the guy that writes these books."
PJ stared in amazement. Jack knows everybody!
For the next round of presents, PJ picked up two packages. He showed Jack the book package labeled "To PJ From Jack," winked, and said loudly, "Here's the other present you got me, Jack."
Jack took the package, studied the label and then nodded, handing it back. PJ then gave him the other, smaller gift. "What's this?" Jack asked in surprise.
"It's for you."
Jack unwrapped the present and picked up the Polo aftershave. "Say," he said happily, "I can use this! Thanks, PJ."
PJ showed him his Kidnapped. Jack had not read that one. Then PJ brought two more presents over. "This is from Erik," he said, showing off the book he'd covered in bright red paper and tied with a silver ribbon.
"Let's see that, PJ." Jack examined the wrapping, stared at the label, and handed it back with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Open it and let's see what he got for you."
PJ carefully removed the shiny paper, showed him Kim, and Jack said, "Oh, yeah! Kipling. Now he's good, PJ. Especially his poetry."
PJ looked at Jack curiously. He remembered that Jack had asked if he and Erik liked poetry. PJ did--at least some poems--and apparently Jack did too. He handed Jack the other package he'd brought over and Jack glanced at him in surprise. "Another present, PJ?" He took off the paper, opened the flat white box, and took out the wallet PJ had gotten for him. "Look inside," PJ told him. He crossed his fingers. Please like it, Jack!
Jack opened the wallet and stared at the picture PJ had put inside. "Do you like it, Jack," PJ asked anxiously.
Jack nodded. Without saying a word he reached into his back pocket, took out a wallet that looked much more expensive than the one PJ had given him, and began removing things, putting them into the new one. "Jack . . ." said PJ. But Jack shook his head and told him to wait. He finished exchanging the contents of the wallets and handed the old one to PJ. PJ stared at it. It was a beautiful thing, made of soft expensive leather. "Jack, I didn't know you had such a nice wallet. You don't have to keep that cheap one. This one's better."
"You use it, PJ. I want you to have it." Jack put the new wallet into his pocket. "I want this one."
PJ had run out of presents for himself, so for the next round of gifts he just brought over another present for Jack.
"What is this, PJ?" Jack asked. You already gave me two presents!"
"Uh-huh," PJ said happily. "But you're going to really like this one!"
Smiling and shaking his head, Jack started taking off the paper, then stopped. "Hold it. Don't you have another present too?"
"I've already got it," PJ said mysteriously. "You'll see. Come on, Jack! Open it."
Jack opened the narrow flat box and found the Red Sox tie.
"See!" PJ said, pointing to his own tie.
Jack put his head back and laughed delightedly. "I get it. Hey, this is really nice, PJ."
"Now we can be wearing the same tie if we have to go to places together all dressed up," PJ told him eagerly.
"That's exactly what we'll do," Jack agreed.
Across the room, the other boys were also discovering their presents from PJ. "Oh, cool!" Mike exclaimed when he unwrapped his poster. He opened his other package and held up the CD. "Wow! PJ, this is great. Thanks." Danny exclaimed "Neat!" He was looking at his model plane. "PJ, where did you find this?" Pedro was exploring the box of magic trick. "I've been trying to get this for ages!"
"You got all those kids presents, too?" Jack whispered.
PJ nodded happily. He felt great! Everything was turning out even better than he'd imagined! It was perfect. Excitedly, he trotted over to the tree, picked up a large box, and triumphantly presented it to Jack. "I made this one for you myself."
Jack held the box in his hands, smiled, and shook his head in disbelief. "This is something else," he said almost to himself.
"Open it, Jack," PJ urged.
Still shaking his head in amazement, Jack pulled off the paper and opened the top flaps of the box. Inside was the desk set.
"I made it for you myself," PJ reminded him again as Jack took it out. Jack held the set carefully, staring at where PJ had engraved "Jack" on the base with a wood-burning tool. Then he saw the picture.
"This is quite something, PJ."
"It can go right on the front of your desk," PJ told him happily. "Do you like it?"
"Very much," Jack said smiling. "Thank you. Thank you again for all my presents."
PJ blushed, and looked down in embarrassment.
"Now where's your other presents, PJ?" Jack asked.
"I've got all mine already."
But Jack was shaking his head. He slapped his thigh. "Wait a minute! No you haven't. I'm a dummy!" He got up. "Excuse me a second, everyone. I left something important in the car!" When he walked out, everybody started talking at once. The boys crowded around to look at the desk set. "Cool picture, PJ," Mike told him. "Where were you when they took that?" "Man," said Pedro, "I can't believe you know this guy so well." Little Danny just kept shaking his head. "When I tell kids I spent Christmas with Jack Canon, no one's gonna believe me!"
Jack came back suddenly with a paper bag in his hands. He handed it to PJ. "Sorry I didn't give you this sooner, PJ," he said. "I think that long drive must have scrambled my brain. I hope you like this."
PJ opened the bag and took out a flat Speedo box. "All right!" He opened the box and removed a Lycra racing brief decorated in a wild, tie-dyed pattern. "Cool!"
"Check the size, PJ," Jack said anxiously. "I had to sort of guess at it. I hope it fits."
PJ looked at the tag on the waist of the brief. "It's the right size, Jack," he announced happily. "And it's the real `Speedo' brand too. It's perfect!" He was delighted with the present. PJ hated practicing in his team suit because the chlorine in the water faded its colors. Now he could use his new brief in practice and save the good team suit for meets.
Jack looked relieved. "Me, Charlie, and Charlie's mother all worked together on this, PJ. The present is kind of from all of us. Charlie picked the colors and we used him as a guinea pig for the size. By the way, Charlie wants to know when you're coming to visit again. And he wanted me to be sure and wish you a very Merry Christmas."
PJ smiled happily. He felt wonderful. "I wish I'd gotten Charlie a present, too."
"Don't you worry about Charlie," Jack assured him. "I happen to know he made out like a bandit this Christmas."
Everyone began to relax, admiring their gifts again, laughing and talking. Suddenly Mr. Williamson said, "I think I still see one last present under the tree." Everyone looked. There was still one medium-sized package gleaming under the Christmas tree lights. PJ got up, walked slowly to the tree, picked up the package, and took it solemnly over to Jack. "Merry Christmas, Jack."
Jack held the package in his hands and looked at PJ. "What are you giving me now, PJ," he asked with a smile.
"It's one more surprise." PJ was having trouble concealing his excitement. "Open it, Jack."
Jack slowly unwrapped the paper. There was a collective gasp from everyone when he uncovered the elegant box with the picture of the computer on it.
"Aw-w-some!" Danny whispered.
Slowly the big man opened the box. The Red Sox logo gleamed in gold on the leather case. Slowly and carefully, he slipped the Palm computer out of the case and held it in his hand, staring.
"Oh, man. That is so cool," Mike gushed.
"I would kill for one of those," Pedro asserted.
Jack shook his head in wonder. "PJ," he said slowly, "I just don't know what to say. This is incredible."
PJ knelt beside him. "Look, Jack. See? It has e-mail, wireless Internet, a notepad, a place for all your phone numbers, and an appointment calendar. I already put all our stuff in the calendar for you. An' it's got a ton of other stuff too. Watch, see? You can play solitaire on it, and chess. See?"
Mr. Williamson was watching PJ intently. "May I see that?" Jack passed the computer to him and Mr. Williamson studied it. "What amazing devices these things are," he said at last, handing the computer back.
"What's this lighted symbol for?" Jack asked, pointing to the little screen.
"That means you have an e-mail," PJ said. "Here. See? Now you can open it and read it."
The Williamsons and the other boys crowded around to watch as Jack manipulated the touch screen. The message opened:
"Hi Jack! This is your first email message. Now that you have this Palm Computer let's send each other a lot more! Thank you for a wonderful Christmas and thank you most of all for being my friend. PJ."
"I learned how to use all the stuff on it, Jack," PJ continued happily. "After dinner I'll show you how it works. You can send messages to me from anywhere while you're traveling. This thing is really neat. I bet you'll use it every day."
Jack nodded. "If you'll show me how, PJ, I will."
"Do you like it, Jack?" Jack smiled. "Like it?" he said slowly. "PJ, I think it's fantastic!"
PJ beamed and stared up at Jack, wishing the other boys were not there so he could hug him. He likes it! He really does! It's just like I hoped!
Mr. Williamson got up. "Boys, time to get ready for Chapel. Mr. Canon, you're welcome to come too, if you wish."
"Oh, you gotta come, Jack!" PJ said quickly. "I'm gonna play my violin."
"I'll come, PJ." Jack ruffled the boy's hair and turned to Mr. Williamson. "If you have a place I could use to change, I've got some clothes in the car."
"We have a spare room you can use," Mrs. Williamson told him.
"Don't forget the tie, Jack," PJ said, getting the Red Sox present for him. "We can wear ours together."
"You boys get all the paper and boxes picked up," Mr. Williamson told them. "And put your presents away neatly."
"I'll put your computer in my room for now, Jack," PJ said as he started gathering things up. "It'll be safe there."
He was taking his new snowboard up to his room as well. No way was PJ taking the chance of anyone messing with the best, most wonderful Christmas gift of his entire life!
As they walked to Chapel, PJ strode proudly at Jack's side. He hoped everyone would notice that they were wearing the same Red Sox tie.
Jack looked down at the violin case PJ was carrying. "Tell me again what this thing is you're playing. I don't want to look like a dummy if anyone asks."
PJ explained once more about "Sheep May Safely Graze," adding with a laugh, "I'm only playing the easy part. I can't do the hard part very well. I can swim a lot better than I play violin."
"Just playing anything's an accomplishment," Jack told him. "I never learned how to play an instrument. I've often wished I had."
Little groups from all over campus were converging on the Chapel. PJ saw kids point and talk amongst each other when they caught sight of Jack. Everyone's noticing, he thought excitedly.
Inside, he whispered to Jack, "Save me a seat," and went to the front to put his violin by the organ so it would be ready for him. The chaplain wanted PJ to stay in the front pew, but PJ insisted on going to sit where Jack had reserved him a seat on the aisle a few rows back. PJ slipped into it and allowed that "This service isn't as good as the Christmas Eve one, but it's almost as good. We'll do a lot of singing and there isn't too much talking." Jack smiled and nodded.
PJ tried to sit quietly, but his stomach was beginning to get fluttery as he thought of his solo. He nudged Jack. "I think I'm getting a little nervous."
"Like just before a big game or a big race, right?" Jack whispered back.
"Yeah."
"I get like that every time I give a speech. Just go up there smiling and do your best. You'll be okay once you start playing."
Just then, the chaplain rose, everybody stood up, the organist played a chord, and they all began singing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful." This was a hymn PJ liked because it was a "loud" one. He thought of the carols they sang at Christmas Eve service as "quiet" and the ones on Christmas Day as "loud." He enjoyed them both, but on the loud ones you could really let yourself go. He knew all the popular carols by heart and sang enthusiastically in his boy soprano. Next to him, Jack's baritone made it through the first verse, but faltered going into the second. PJ looked up and practically yelled the words as strongly as he could so that the big ballplayer could muddle through the other verses. Jack gave him a wink as they sat down.
During the rest of the service, they sang more good ones like "Hark, The Herald Angels Sing" and "I Saw Three Ships," and PJ found each carol in the hymnbook so his guest wouldn't have any more trouble singing along.
At last, when the chaplain got up to give a short sermon, near its end he gave PJ a slight nod. That was his cue to get ready. PJ slipped out of his seat, went quietly up the aisle, retrieved his violin, and stood waiting to play. The chaplain led everyone in a short Christmas prayer, which was followed by a quiet meditation time. That was when PJ was supposed to start. He took a deep breath to steady himself, just the way he did before stepping into a batter's box. Then he began.
Just as Jack had said, after he started, the nervousness went away. He concentrated on the music, let its flow take him, and quickly forgot that he was performing in front of people. There was a tricky part halfway through that always gave him some trouble. He stumbled on it, but he knew what to do, and kept right on just as if nothing had happened, the same way he did if he flubbed a turn in a swimming race. He got all the way to the end without making any more mistakes and finished with a last, drawn-out note. It sounded sweet.
Because it was church, there was no applause. He put his violin down, went quickly back to his seat, and Jack gave him a little nod as he sat down. "Nice," he whispered.
PJ grinned and looked down at his feet to conceal the happy blush that came to his face. It was so wonderful to be with Jack! PJ knew his violin playing was nothing special, but it was just so great to have Jack there to smile and whisper something just for him, the same as other kid's parents did--the same as Bill did for Erik!
The service ended with everyone singing "Joy to the World." Afterwards, lots of adults and kids came over to shake hands with Jack. Most of the adults shook hands with PJ, too, and congratulated him on his playing. PJ glowed as he stood next to Jack. He wanted everyone to notice that they were together, and hoped everyone saw the ties. When the crowd thinned out, PJ went up and retrieved his violin. Then he and Jack walked together back to the House so he could drop it off before they went to the Dining Hall for Christmas dinner.
"Did I do okay, Jack?" PJ asked as they crossed the Quad. "Did you like it?"
"The best, Tiger. I'd rather listen to you play than anybody."
The glow of happiness those words kindled in PJ made him lean closer to Jack, brushing his arm. "I messed up a little in the middle."
"I wondered about that," Jack said. "But the rest sounded so good I didn't really pay much attention. Were you nervous?"
"Nope." PJ shook his head. "It's just like you said. Like in football, or swimming, or baseball. Once you get started you're okay."
When they got to the House, PJ left his violin in the common room, and he and Jack went to the Dining Hall where they found that the Williamsons had saved seats for them. No one had started yet because the headmaster was waiting for Jack. He asked Jack to come up in front so he could "officially welcome" him to Gordonsville. He "hoped Mr. Canon would say a few words for all the boys." PJ saw Jack nervously finger his tie. Poor Jack, he thought. He's probably trying to think of what to say!
But shortly thereafter, PJ realized that he needn't have worried. Jack sort of cleared his throat, smiled at the headmaster, and looked around the room, giving everyone at the two long tables his famous grin. Then he started talking, first thanking the headmaster for his welcome, and going on, "I was just now thinking of how lucky we all are to be spending Christmas here together. I know it's kind of rough for those of you who are having Christmas without your families. But I hope you'll all remember how fortunate you are to be here at this wonderful school having Christmas with your friends and these teachers who care about you. I want you to know that I'm grateful to be here with you. I'm having one of the nicest Christmases I've had in a long time. I'd like to thank you, Headmaster, and all the rest of you, especially my friend PJ, for sharing your Christmas with me. Now I'll get out of the way, because I know everyone is hungry and wants to eat!"
The older students from the Upper houses cheered, everybody started clapping, and Jack shook hands again with the headmaster, exchanging a few more words with him before coming back to sit next to PJ. Food was passed around which the kids started piling onto their plates.
"How did I do?" Jack whispered to PJ.
"Awesome, Jack!" PJ whispered back. He shook his head in admiration. "How do you do that? How did you know what to say?"
"Well, I've had practice." Jack winked. "Lots of press conferences. Sometimes you just gotta wing it and tell `em what you know they wanna hear."
The Christmas dinner was another parade of PJ's favorite dishes: fruit cocktail, turkey (all you could eat), stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, carrots, squash, turnips (for some reason, PJ liked these), peas, creamed baby onions, four different kinds of nuts, three different kinds of rolls (hard, soft, and twisted), cherry jelly, grape jelly, and apple butter, coleslaw, Jell-O salad, vanilla ice cream, chocolate ice cream, coffee ice cream, chocolate cake with vanilla icing, vanilla cake with chocolate icing, coconut cream cake with apricot filling, apple pie, cherry pie, rhubarb pie, coconut custard pie, and all the milk you could drink. Afterwards, there were plates of chocolate mints, chocolate-covered cherries, chocolate caramels, and candy orange slices. In other words, a feast for a king!
"Come on, PJ," Jack said, holding out a chocolate-covered cherry. "Have another one."
"Jack, I can't. I'm stuffed!"
"Just one more," Jack coaxed. "You can do it."
"Stop it, Jack!" PJ pleaded. "I might not be able to get out of my chair."
"No problem, PJ." Jack grinned at him. "We can always roll you back to the House."
Somehow, PJ and his friends managed to stagger out of the Dining Hall and across the campus under their stomach-loads of food. "Oh man," PJ groaned. "Jack, why did you let me eat so much?"
"Gosh, PJ," Jack said innocently, "I didn't think you ate that much. What should we do now? How about playing some football?"
"N-o-o-o-o-o," pleaded PJ.
The other boys turned on the TV to watch an NBA game. Jack and PJ took PJ's violin upstairs to his room. There they sat down and PJ got the Palm computer out so he could teach Jack how to use it. For an hour, PJ demonstrated and Jack experimented, until at last, he was able to successfully send e-mail to PJ's desktop. Then he learned how to manipulate the appointment calendar, and PJ quickly showed off the notebook along with some of the other features.
"I think I'll be able to work out that stuff from this instruction book, PJ," Jack said as he thumbed through the thick manual. "We've covered the important things."
"Do you really like it?" PJ anxiously asked.
Jack reached over and gave his shoulders a hug. "Really, PJ." He smiled ruefully. "You know, I've always been a little dumb about these things, but, secretly, I've always wanted one. Now you've given me a start and I'm going to take advantage of it." He put the computer in its case and gathered up the instruction book. "I want to lock this in my briefcase in the car. What say we take a football down with us and toss it around a little now that you've digested some of that meal?"
"Okay," said PJ. He got his football out of the closet.
They went down and locked both the Palm computer and desk set into Jack's car. Then right there in the parking lot they started throwing the football, just close in at first, then farther and farther apart, moving away from the cars and onto the lawn between the other houses. PJ was amazed that Jack was even better than Coach Lewis! PJ would go way, way out for a pass and Jack would send the ball arcing perfectly to him with an effortless toss that always resulted in a perfect spiral. Every pass was so well thrown it was easy to catch. PJ felt like a pro.
Because PJ could not throw nearly as far, Jack would trot toward him to get the ball. Then he would send PJ far out again. In this way, they worked their way farther and farther from PJ's House, down toward the athletic fields. At last they found themselves on the JV football field where PJ's team had played and practiced during the season.
Here they started a new game. Jack threw passes to PJ, who had to run them back past Jack to the goal line. In this game, PJ had an advantage. Jack had longer arms and legs and had lateral superiority, but PJ was smaller and lighter so he could cut more quickly. Two out of three times he was able to get around Jack's outstretched hands and make it to the goal. Finally, they were both winded and sat on the bleachers to rest.
"Oh boy, PJ," Jack panted, "you are quick. You wore me out on that last one."
PJ giggled delightedly. "I wish I could throw like you."
"It's that Major League arm," Jack said with a grin. "All those years of firing in to the plate from right field."
PJ sat holding the football, looking at the high, white clouds moving across the winter sky. He was completely happy. In fact, he couldn't ever remember being so happy before!
"Jack?" he asked. "Jack, did you really mean what you said in the Dining Hall--about this being the nicest Christmas you'd had in a long time?"
"Sure," Jack said. "I'm really having a good time. Aren't you?"
"This is the nicest time I've ever had."
Jack smiled and looked at him. "I'm sure you've had some other nice Christmases, PJ."
PJ kept staring at the sky. "No," he replied. He looked for awhile longer, then turned abruptly to Jack. "There's only one thing that's gone wrong this whole Christmas."
"What's that, PJ?"
PJ told him about how he had embarrassed his friend Erik. "See, I didn't mean to embarrass him," he finished, "but I just didn't know he hadn't gotten me a present. Maybe I should have waited to see if he had before I gave him mine. But, I didn't care if he hadn't gotten me one. He didn't need to! I just wanted to make him happy by surprising him with mine. Now maybe he'll be mad at me."
Jack studied PJ's face while he listened to all this. "PJ," he said, looking puzzled, "I thought Erik did give you something. Didn't he give you a book? I thought you showed it to me."
Fear shot through PJ. A look of consternation came over his face and he tightened his fists in alarm. How could he have forgotten that? How could he explain it? Then, just as suddenly, he knew it was all right. He could tell Jack. He could tell Jack anything! Jack would understand.
He looked down and said in a soft voice, "That book wasn't from Erik. I bought it myself and put his name on it, so it would look like it was from him." He lifted his eyes to Jack's. "Don't tell anyone, please, Jack? Please?"
The man shook his head. "You know I wouldn't do that, PJ." Then he added thoughtfully, "You bought the book you put my name on, too, didn't you."
PJ nodded. "And the one I was opening when you came. That one, too." He took a breath and then continued, desperate to make Jack understand. "See, all the other boys had presents. I had to have some too. It looks weird if you don't. So I got some and wrapped them and put names on them. That way I was sure I'd have something to show when it was time to open presents. See, I wasn't sure if you were coming. . . . No," he said hurriedly, "that's a fib. I was sure you were coming . . . well, almost sure. But I didn't know if you were going to bring a present, so I had to have something to show everyone. So anyway, that's why I did that."
With a sigh he stared at his feet for a moment. Then he looked up at Jack. "I guess you think I'm pretty weird, huh?"
Jack shook his head. "No, I don't think that at all, PJ. I think I might have done the same thing."
PJ stared at him. "Really?"
Jack nodded. "Nobody wants to be the only one without presents. I think what you did was very human." Then Jack smiled. A big, slow smile that went all across his face. "Hey PJ," he said softly. "You liked that snowboard, didn't you."
PJ's whole face lit up. His eyes glowed. "Oh yeah, Jack. It was the greatest, most awesome, neatest . . . just the best present ever!"
"Good. Now, let's work on this thing with Erik." Jack thought for a moment. "Let me put it like this," he said. "Those other boys in your House, they didn't give you any presents, did they?"
PJ shook his head.
"But when you gave them presents this morning, they weren't embarrassed, were they?"
"I don't think so."
"Okay. So why was Erik embarrassed, if they weren't?"
"I don't know," PJ answered, confused.
"I'll tell you why. See, those other kids--sure, you know them, joke around with them, see them in class and stuff--but they're just buddies, just pals. They're not anyone close to you. But Erik is your friend." Jack looked closely at PJ. "You see, I know how Erik feels about you because he told me."
"What did he tell you?" PJ asked curiously.
Jack shook his head. "That's for him to tell you. Not me. But I know he cares a lot about you. And I know you care a lot about him. So what do you think went through his mind when you surprised him with a present?"
PJ stared at him.
"I think he was ashamed," Jack said slowly. "I think he told himself, 'My best friend cared enough about me to give me something for Christmas, and I got him nothing.' I'm sure that's what he was thinking."
"I know that, Jack! But, I wanted my present to make him happy," PJ protested, "not sad."
Jack nodded. "Yes, I understand. However, this thing isn't really your fault at all. It's really Erik's problem, though I think you're right to be worried about it. Now, I'll tell you what I think you should do." He paused a moment, and went on. "You need to give Erik a chance to make it up to you. You have to let him save face. I don't think you should wait until you see him again to do it either. I think you should call him. Today if you can."
"What should I say?"
"Call to wish him a Merry Christmas. Tell him you miss him. Ask him what presents he got. Heck, ask him if he liked your present. Get him talking. Most important, PJ, let him know you're his friend and that you're thinking about him. Then, if you need to, you can tell him you're sorry if you embarrassed him by giving him the present."
Jack tapped PJ's knee and smiled. "My guess is you won't even have to do that. I'd bet money that he'll apologize to you first. That's the kind of kid he is. He's like you. Decent. I'm positive this thing has been bothering him just the way it's been bothering you. He knew he had hurt you. What do you want to bet he's talked to Bill about it just like you're talking to me?"
PJ jumped to his feet. "I want to call him, now!"
Jack got up and as they started walking back to the campus, PJ took the man's hand. "Thanks Jack."
With a chuckle, Jack hugged PJ's shoulders. "Sure."
"Hey, Jack," PJ said suddenly. "I just remembered. There's another call I gotta make, too. You don't mind if we drive about a mile and give one of your baseball cards to a little kid, do you?"
"Guess not, PJ. Who is he?"
PJ explained about the man who'd given him a ride back from the mall and how he'd promised to get one of Jack's cards for his little boy.
"Sure," Jack said agreeably. "Call `em up. Let's go see `em."
As soon as they got to the House, Jack had PJ show him where the phone was. But then PJ explained, "I have to get permission for a long-distance call. There's a block on the phone and. . ."
"What's Erik's number?" Jack interrupted. PJ checked the card Erik's stepfather had given him, gave Jack the number, and Jack pulled out his new wallet. He took from it a plastic card and dialed the operator. "I want to put through a long-distance call on my phone card," he told her. After a short wait he smiled and said, "It's ringing."
"Hello," he said into the phone, "is that Bill? Hi! Merry Christmas! It's Jack Canon, PJ's friend. Listen. PJ and I want to say Merry Christmas to Erik. Is he there?. . . Okay." Jack handed the phone to PJ. "He's coming to the phone."
PJ put the receiver to his ear. After a few moments, he heard Erik's voice. "Hello?"
"Erik, it's PJ. Merry Christmas!"
"PJ!" Erik exclaimed` happily.
"Hey Erik, Jack's here. We're having a good time. But we both wish you were here, too. Or else that we were there with you. Hey, guess what I got, Erik. Jack gave me a snowboard! We can use it when you come back if we can just get some snow!"
"Oh cool, PJ!" Erik said excitedly. "Snowboards are awesome! We'll be able to use it on the Hill where everyone sleds." He paused for a moment and then said, "Look, PJ, there's something I want to tell you . . . I'm not sure . . . I mean . . . listen, I'm sorry I didn't have a present for you . . . I don't know . . . I guess I just didn't think. I feel really bad about it."
"Hey, that's okay Erik," PJ said gently. "I don't need to get a present to know you're my best friend."
"I should have gotten you one, though. I want you to know I'm bringing you something when I come back."
"What is it?" PJ asked eagerly.
"A surprise," Erik said teasingly. "You won't find out `til I get there!"
"Oh man, now I'm going to wonder all the time 'til you get back," PJ moaned. "Hey, how did you like what I gave you?"
"Geez, PJ, you know I liked it. It's exactly what I've wanted for months! I hooked it up first thing. I was using it on my game just now when you called."
"Good! That's all that matters. You can't believe how scared I was that your parents would buy you one before I could give it to you. I almost told you a hundred times."
Erik laughed. "Nobody keep secrets better than you, PJ. Hey, I'm glad you called."
"Me too."
"I've got it all set to come back early."
"Oh cool. I can't wait!"
Jack nudged PJ and said, "Let me talk to him."
"Hey, Erik, Jack wants to say 'Hi' to you."
"Okay."
PJ gave Jack the phone. "Erik?" said Jack. "Merry Christmas . . . yeah . . . hey, PJ and I both wish you were with us . . . right . . . well, I'll see when I come here in January . . . right . . . I'd like that . . . yeah, hey just keep PJ out of trouble . . ..okay . . . okay . . . sure, put him on . . . Hi, Bill . . . oh, hey it was a pleasure. Without Erik I would never have been able to figure out how a swim meet works . . . right, right." Jack looked at PJ, then said into the phone, "Well it was bothering the one up here, too, so I thought a call would be a good idea . . . right, we had a talk up here too . . . yeah. Hey, I hope I get to meet you one of the times I'm here . . . what's that? . . . yeah, wait a sec." Jack looked around and PJ handed him a pencil and a piece of paper. "Okay, give me that again . . . yeah, I got it . . . OK . . . right, see you then. Merry Christmas! . . . goodbye."
Jack hung up. He looked at PJ, his eyes twinkling. "I guess that took care of all the worries you had, right?"
PJ smiled back. "Yeah, thanks, Jack. You're the greatest. I knew you'd know what to do." Then he asked curiously, "What was that you were writing down at the end?"
"Oh," said Jack casually, "I thought maybe I'd come visit when you and I could go to one of Erik's basketball games. That way I could meet Bill and we can all have some fun together."
"Jack!, you mean it? Oh yeah, let's do it! It'll be neat. We'll have lots of fun. You'll like Bill." PJ was thrilled by this news. Everything was working out just as he'd hoped!
"I've already made the date," Jack said, giving the boy a pat on the shoulder. "Now I just have to remember to put it in that computer you gave me."
"We are gonna have a blast!" PJ practically sang the words.
"What about this other call you were gonna make?"
"Oh, yeah!" PJ took out his card with the phone numbers and consulted it. Then he called the man who had given him the ride the week before. "Hi," he said. "This is PJ. Remember me? You gave me that ride a week ago."
"Sure, I remember," the man said. "Are you having a nice Christmas, PJ?"
"Yes, Sir! And I've got that card for your son. Can I bring it over now if it's not too inconvenient?"
"Sure. Should I drive over and pick you up?"
"I've got a ride," PJ assured him. "We'll be there in a few minutes."
Jack and PJ got into the car and PJ gave directions. "They only live about a mile away."
When they pulled up in front of a small frame house in a quiet neighborhood, a man came out and stood on the front steps to greet them. Behind him, a small boy stood in the front door, watching. At first the man smiled as they walked across the lawn toward him, and then his expression changed to one of astonishment..
"Hi," said PJ. "Merry Christmas!" He was grinning with delight.
"PJ," the man said wonderingly, "is this guy who I think he is?"
"Hi." Jack held out his hand. "I'm Jack Canon."
"John Thatcher," the man told him, shaking with him. "I thought it was you. But then I thought it just couldn't be. PJ, you said you were bringing the card. I didn't expect the whole ball player." He waved them towards the door. "Well, come on in. Come in! Mr. Canon, it's an honor to have you here. Excuse the mess. We've sort of had a busy Christmas here."
Mr. Thatcher introduced them to his wife and brought them into a living room scattered with toys. A big Christmas tree filled one corner, its colored lights blinking. The little boy stayed behind his father, shyly watching them. His two little sisters stood giggling in the room until their mother shooed them into the kitchen. "Well, sit down, sit down," Mr. Thatcher told them. "Can I get you some coffee or something."
"No, thank you," Jack told him. "We can't stay that long. PJ has to get back." He looked down at the little boy. "Is this your ball player?"
"Yup," Mr. Thatcher said proudly. "Here's my slugger." He gently coaxed the boy out from behind him. "Say hello to Mr. Canon."
Jack knelt down and held out his hand. The boy timidly took it.
"What's your name, Tiger?" Jack gently asked.
"Billy," the boy answered in a soft voice.
"Well, Billy," Jack said, "I want you to meet my friend PJ."
PJ shook the youngster's hand and grinned. "Hi, Billy."
Jack took the little boy's hand again and continued, "Billy, PJ has asked me to give you a special Christmas present. Do you collect baseball cards?"
Billy nodded his head.
Jack reached in his pocket and brought out a card. He showed it to the boy.
"This is my card, Billy. See, it has a picture of me? It's what they call a 'signature' card because it has my name written on it across the bottom. See it? Maybe some of your friends have this card."
Billy nodded. "Mikey and Jerry do."
"Well, they won't have one like this," Jack said, "because, you know what I'm going to do?"
Billy stared at him.
"I'm going to put a special message on the back of this one, just for you, and sign it with my name. How's that?"
Billy nodded eagerly.
Jack took out his felt tip pen and wrote on the back of the card:
"For my friend Billy, a special card for a special boy. Merry Christmas!"
Below that he signed his name and gave the card to him. Billy had his eyes transfixed on it and held it as if it were an egg that might drop and break. Wordlessly, the little boy showed the card to his father. They admired it together.
"Tell Mr. Canon 'Thank you,'" his father whispered.
"Thank you," Billy said. Then he took the card and trotted quickly out of the room.
Mr. Thatcher chuckled. "I bet he's gone to put it in his special drawer before anything can happen to it."
In just a few moments, Billy ran back into the living room. He was holding a scuffed baseball and a little Red Sox cap. He came to Jack and held them out.
"Would you like me to sign these?" Jack asked him.
Billy nodded vigorously.
Jack got out his felt tip again. Mr. Thatcher explained, "Those are his souvenirs from the Red Sox game I took him to when we visited his grandmother. We went on cap day so he got a hat, and I got him a foul ball. I had to buy it off a guy."
Jack finished signing the baseball. He took the cap and signed his name across the bill.
"I remember cap day," Jack said to Billy. "You saw me play that day, didn't you?"
Billy shook his head up and down.
"I think I remember seeing you, too," Jack said. "Lots of boys and girls brought me their caps to sign after the game. Why didn't you bring yours?"
Billy looked up at his father, who stroked his son's hair fondly. "He was so tired by the end of the game that he was sleepwalking. So I took him home. He's just a little guy."
Billy took his ball and cap and left the room again. When he came back the next time, he had a small trophy with a baseball player on it in his hand. He went to his father and handed it to him. "Show him," he whispered.
His dad smiled and gave the trophy to Jack. "He wants you to see his baseball trophy for T-ball."
Jack held the trophy carefully with two hands and examined it. "You know, Billy, I still have the first trophy I ever got in Little League. PJ's seen it. I would never want to lose it." He handed the trophy reverently back to the boy. "You should always be very proud of this, Billy."
The boy smiled. He took the trophy and ran back out of the room.
As Jack and Mr. Thatcher started talking about T-ball and the local Little League, PJ sat listening with interest, when suddenly he felt the soft pressure of a warm body leaning against him. He turned his head. Billy was holding up a toy truck and a car for him to see. "I got these for Christmas," he whispered to PJ.
PJ took the truck and examined it. "This is nice, Billy," he whispered back. "Tonka trucks are the coolest."
Billy nodded and took it back. He leaned on PJ's shoulder and whispered again, "Is he your daddy?"
PJ shook his head. "No. He's just my friend."
Billy thought for a moment, and then said quietly, "Do you want to see all my cars?"
PJ nodded and Billy led him back to his room. He opened a wooden chest by the window and showed PJ a collection of more than a score of matchbox cars.
"My daddy made the box for me," he said proudly.
PJ admired the cars. Then they looked at Billy's baseball cards. "Jack's nice," Billy said, holding up the card Jack had signed for him.
"I think he's the greatest guy in the whole world," PJ told him.
Billy shook his head. "No," he firmly declared. "My daddy is."
PJ gave Billy a hug around the shoulders and Billy hugged him back with both arms. "I wish I had a big brother," he said softly.
The two boys went back into the living room. When Jack saw PJ he got up and announced, "We better get going. It's been nice meeting you."
"It's been an honor having you here," Billy's father said. He took them back out to the hall where Jack said goodbye to Mrs. Thatcher and they got their coats. When they were out on the front steps, Mr. Thatcher looked gratefully at PJ. "You made my little boy very happy today, PJ. I won't ever forget it. You remember what I said about calling if you need anything. I mean it. Call if you just want to talk. Are you playing baseball this spring?"
PJ said that he sure was.
"Well," the man said, "You might see Billy and me at some of your games. I wish Billy could know more boys like you." He turned to Jack. "Goodbye, Jack. I'll never forget this. The offer goes for you, too. If I can ever do anything for you, just call. I wish there were more like you in the Major Leagues."
"Thanks." The two men smiled as they shook hands, and Mr. Thatcher asked Jack with a grin, "Is next year gonna be the year for the Sox?"
Jack looked behind the man where Billy was staring up wide-eyed. "Could be!" He reached down to tousle the boy's hair. "Think we can, Billy?"
Billy smiled back and nodded.
Jack and PJ walked across the lawn to the car, waved once more, and drove off.
"Jack?" PJ asked, "did you really see Billy at the game on cap day? Or, were you just saying that?"
"Well, there was a really big crowd that day," Jack answered. "But, I was there and he was there, so I guess theoretically I could have seen him." He flashed a grin at PJ and turned his attention back to the road. "You see, PJ, kids are no different from anybody else. They want to feel special. They want to be noticed. You know that. I told him because I knew it would make him feel good; so he wouldn't be so shy with me."
"Do you always do that?" PJ was looking down at his hands. "I mean, do you always say things just to make people feel good? Like even if they might be fibs?"
"No, not always."
They were both silent for a moment until PJ asked, "You don't do that with me, do you? I mean, the stuff you say to me--you mean it, don't you?"
"Sure, PJ," Jack told him. "Of course I mean it."
They drove through the gates into the school and Jack parked the car. "Say, listen, PJ. This guy we just visited--you met him hitchhiking, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well look. Any other day of the year you and I would have to have a serious talk about that. But there's no way I'm going to chew you out on Christmas. So I'm gonna handle this in a different way." He paused before continuing. "We got a deal, right? I'm supposed to be your friend for a year, right? Now I'm asking you, as your friend, to promise me you won't do any more hitchhiking. Okay?"
PJ blushed and hung his head. "Okay."
"I'd rather see you looking me in the eye when you say that."
PJ raised his head, looked Jack in the eye and nodded. "Okay, I promise."
Jack took a breath and nodded back. "Good. I know I can trust you to keep your word. Just the thought of you standing on the side of the road with your thumb out scares me six ways from Sunday. Please don't ever do that again."
It was starting to get dark. PJ checked the sky when they got out of the car and saw clouds blowing in from the northwest. As they walked toward the lights of the House, Jack put an arm around the boy's shoulders and said, "What you did for that man and his son was nice, Tiger."
They went in to watch the end of another basketball game until it was time for supper. PJ was surprised that he felt hungry at all after the big dinner he'd eaten, but he was still able to put away two more plates of leftover turkey with gravy and potatoes, as well as some more cake and pie.
After supper, Mrs. Williamson made another big bowl of popcorn, and all the boys along with Jack and Mr. Williamson settled in to watch a college bowl game. PJ sat close to Jack on the sofa feeling dreamily content. As he watched the football players on TV, his mind kept drifting over all the wonderful events of the day. Already sleepy from getting up so early and from all the excitement and activity, he snuggled a little closer to Jack, leaned his head on his hero's shoulder, gradually closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Jack looked down at PJ several times. His arm had started to ache, but he didn't want to move it and take the chance of waking the boy up. When he glanced over at Mr. Williamson, the two men smiled at each other.
Finally, he just had to move his arm before it cramped. Slowly he drew it away. PJ stirred slightly, made a soft noise, but never came completely awake. He just drew his legs up onto the sofa and curled up with his head on Jack's lap. Jack stroked his shoulder.
By the third quarter of the game, all the boys around the room were asleep. Jack looked at Mr. Williamson, pointed to PJ, and then pointed at the ceiling. Mr. Williamson nodded.
Getting up very slowly, with PJ cradled in his arms, Jack carried the boy into the hall. He tried to be quiet mounting the stairs, but halfway up, PJ woke and mumbled, "It's not time for bed yet."
"It is, though," Jack told him.
PJ sighed. He put his arms around Jack's neck and closed his eyes again.
Jack brought the boy to his
room where PJ clung and refused to be put down while Jack hunted until he found
pajamas with the right name tag in them. As he undressed the exhausted boy,
Jack was impressed again by the extreme definition and hard muscle in PJ's young body, something he'd first noticed while
watching him with the other kids in
"I have to drive to
"You don't have to leave right now, do you?"
"Pretty soon."
"Will you read to me? Please?"
"Okay," Jack said.
He got PJ's desk chair, slid it over by the bed, and sat down with PJ's book My Side of the Mountain. PJ showed him the place where he'd last left off, and Jack began to read in a deep, soft voice.
He read of how the boy on the mountain saw winter come to the wilderness . . . how the
snow nearly trapped him in the hollow tree that was a shelter . . . then on Christmas Day how the boy's father and his friend came to find him. . .
Jack looked up. PJ was fast asleep. Closing the book, Jack laid it gently on the nightstand and tiptoed out of the room.
* * *
Downstairs, he found Mr. Williamson sitting alone. "I see you managed to get all the others off to bed, too," Jack said, settling wearily into a chair.
"Yes." Mr. Williamson had his new pipe out, the one PJ had given him, and he was smoothing the bowel with a palm. "It's been a long, full day for them all. I'm sure they'll sleep very soundly tonight."
Jack dropped his head on his hands and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Well. I know it's been a long one for me. And it's not over yet. I've got to get down to Philly." He heaved a sigh. "I guess I better get started."
"I'm very glad you came today," Mr. Williamson told him quietly. "I know it meant a great deal to PJ to have you here."
Jack smiled at him. "Did you see the way he lit up when I gave him that snowboard? And the way he wouldn't let anyone touch it?" He shook his head. "You'd think he'd never gotten a Christmas present before."
Mr. Williamson nodded sadly. "That actually could be the case."
"What do you mean?"
The housemaster sighed. "I suppose you guessed that the other presents PJ received--those books--were all things he bought himself. He put other people's names on them to make it look like they'd been given to him."
"Yeah." Jack shook his head. "The kid confessed it to me this afternoon. Would you believe he was so scared I wouldn't come, and that no one would give him anything, that he cooked up that scheme of fake presents?"
"Oh yes, Mr. Canon. I'd believe it all right. You see, PJ did exactly the same thing last year."
Jack stared. "You're kidding."
But Mr. Williamson shook his head. "I wish I were. The only difference is that last year PJ labeled the presents "From Mom," "From Dad," and "From Mom and Dad." His parents were still alive then, you see."
Jack kept staring in amazement. "You mean, they didn't send him anything?"
"Not that any of us ever saw." The housemaster sighed again and rubbed his hands together. "I suspect that PJ has been buying his own Christmas presents for quite some time, Mr. Canon. In fact, except for some little things my wife and I have given him, or a few odds and ends he might have gotten at children's parties, I strongly suspect that the snowboard you gave him is the only real Christmas present PJ has ever received. You can imagine what it meant to him."
Jack rubbed his face and Mr. Williamson asked, "You say PJ told you this afternoon about the presents he bought himself?"
Jack nodded again. "Yeah, I got it out of him. Listen, I promised him I wouldn't tell anybody. You can't say a word about it."
"I won't," Mr. Williamson assured him. "But this confirms a theory I have been considering."
"Theory?"
"Yes, about you and PJ." Mr. Williamson looked thoughtful for a moment and then continued. "You see, Mr. Canon, PJ has a severe problem relating to people."
"What?" exclaimed Jack. He gets along with everyone. Everybody likes him."
"Oh yes," Mr. Williamson agreed, "Everyone likes him. But, Mr. Canon, no one knows him! PJ wants to be liked. He knows how to make people like him. But he gets close to no one. He never opens himself to any attachment."
The housemaster paused and then made a little gesture before going on.
"I should say, he never has until recently. Just this year he started forming an attachment to his roommate, Erik. I had been hoping that he would, and I think it's a very good thing for both of them." Here Mr. Williamson paused again, and then his eyes met Jack's. "But Erik is a child, like PJ, so that kind of attachment may be easier for him. Up to now, PJ has never shown any signs of forming an attachment to an adult. That is, until you, Mr. Canon."
"But PJ knows lots of adults," Jack protested. "He likes his coaches, he likes you, his teachers. . . I know he likes Erik's stepfather, too."
"Yes, Mr. Canon. He likes us, as you say. And, when it suits his purpose, he uses us and manipulates us. But he has no real attachment to any of us. You are the only adult I have ever seen him show affection to. The fact that he confided in you, revealing one of his guarded secrets, is significant. There is no one else I know he would do that with."
Jack sighed and got to his feet. "Well, I'm glad I got the kid a present. It sure made his day. Thanks for your hospitality, Mr. Williamson. I guess I'll be seeing you next month when I come up again."
"You're going to keep visiting regularly, then?" The housemaster stood up as well.
"Oh yeah. I promised the kid and that lawyer of his that I'd look in on him every month or so."
As Mr. Williamson fetched Jack's coat and the two men went to the front door, he said, "I hope PJ confides in you even more. If he does, and if he says anything that worries you, well, there would be things about PJ we would both need to know. Would you please tell me if that happens?"
"Sure," Jack told him. "Sure."
But as he walked out of the door, Mr. Williamson felt it necessary to add, "Just keep in mind what I told you. PJ may seem tough. In many ways, he is tough. But PJ may be more fragile than we think. . ."
Editor Paul K. Scott's e-mail address: paulkdoctor@gmail.com