Date: Wed, 20 Dec 2023 16:46:22 +0000
From: Jonah
Subject: Christmas in New England     chapter 6

Christmas In New England
by Jonah

This is a work of fiction so be aware that every character herein is also
fictitious.  If you think you recognise yourself, or somebody else in here
- you don't. Some places, and some institutions in here are real, but the
people attached to those institutions in the story are not.  Most
characters are my own creations, but some are the creations of another
author.  I want to thank Jacob Lion, in the USA, for his permission to use
his characters in my stories.

This story is brought to you, at no charge, by Nifty.  Nifty does not
charge either me or you to publish this story, but if does cost money to
publish it.  Please consider donating to Nifty to keep this site going.
https://donate.nifty.org/

Chapter 6

We didn't lie-in on Saturday morning.  Ashfield Baptist Church was to be
the venue for a carol concert on Saturday evening and Yori had promised
Pastor Samuels that we would help set things up.

After breakfast we all climbed into Yori's car for the drive out to the
Church.

A Christmas tree stood outside the Church and an empty crib.  Yori
introduced us to the pastor, who had replaced our old friend Pastor White
only a couple of years previously when the old pastor retired.

The pastor soon had our boys running around setting up the blocks for the
stage and setting out seats on them for the choir.  Decorations had to be
put up, Garret and I were detailed to get the lights on the Christmas tree
and Philip and another boy were detailed to fit the figures into the crib.
The other boy seemed to have attached himself to Philip, and his parents
obviously thought that was endearing.

Just before eleven the pastor appeared to tell the labourers in the field
that drinks were served in the vestibule.  We all gathered for coffee and
biscuits - or orange and biscuits for the youngsters.  Philip still had his
shadow so I commented,

"You two seem to be getting along well."

"Yessir," said the curly, blond six or seven year old.

"What's your name then champ?"

He had obviously been drilled for this because he drew himself up to his
full roughly four foot and intoned,

"Simon Christopher Plover."

That wiped the smile off my face.

"It seems our family know the right people to attach themselves to,"
commented the boy's father.

I turned to face him.  I could see it now.  He was in his early to mid
twenties and his hair was no longer fair, but there was no mistaking.

"Well you didn't do so good Chris," I said.

He smiled broadly.

"Oh, I've never had cause for regret," he said.  "You and Kori turned our
lives around.  Mom still gets letters from Jake - well, Christmas cards
anyway."

"You're not still in a trailer?"

"No, We live in South Ashfield now. I do a bit of blacksmithing and a
little farriering.  We get by quite well.  Mom lives in a flat out back.
Come and meet Nesta.  Nesta, this is the guy our son is named for."

Nesta was around the same height as Chris, just slightly taller than me,
and had the most brilliant smile.  Her blue eyes sparkled and I was quite
sure she was a natural blond.  Chris had found himself a very attractive
young lady.

"When we first met, Chris used to talk about you so much I thought I had
some competition," she told me.

"Well, I'm glad he finally found something better to talk about," I
replied.

"Well, there might be something you can do for us," Chris said tentatively.

Nesta uttered a reproachful, "Chris!"

"It's alright Nesta - Simon knows he can say "No" if he wants to."

"So....?"  I prompted.

"Well it's just that Nesta and I are both in the choir tonight.  Mom was
going to bring Simon, but she has a cold and should really stay home."

"Just a moment Chris, Can you see Yori anywhere?"

"Yes, he's with the pastor up behind the organ.  They're hanging holly up
there."

"I'll be back in a moment".

It didn't take a moment to locate Yori, who was only too happy to oblige.
I next located Philip.

"Philip, I've a very important job for you."

"What do I have to do?"

"You don't have to do anything, but I'd like you to do it."

"What?"

"Well, Simon's mum and dad are busy this evening.  Would you mind looking
after him until after the concert tonight?"

Philip appeared to think about it.  This was obviously a very serious
question.  Eventually he gave a very large nod.

"Mmmm Hmmm!" he said in his best Oliver Hardy impression.

I returned to Chris and Nesta.

"Philip says he'll be only too happy to look after Simon until the
concert's over, at which time, if you're both very good, we'll let you have
him back."

Chris tried to protest.

"No, you don't have to do that Simon, " he began.

"I don't have to let you have him back?"

"No, not that...  I mean ... we can drop him off on the way to the
concert."

"You can look after him while you're trying to remember where you put your
bow-tie, and has Nesta seen your music anywhere, and Nesta's fuming at how
long you're in the bathroom?  Believe me Chris, it's better this way."

Nesta just smiled - something that she did very well.

"Thank you Simon," she said, thus drawing the matter to a close.

Just after midday the pastor declared himself satisfied with all that had
been done.  The Church ladies would be in in the afternoon to start setting
up for drinks, mince -pies and Christmas cookies.  The rest of us were to
reconvene at half past six for the concert.

Yori loaded us, including Simon, in the car and drove us up to Ashfield
Lakes, where he proposed to buy lunch for us.  Well, when I say he
proposed, I don't ever remember a proposal from Yori on which he didn't
follow through.  We were back at his home by two o' clock and within
minutes there was not a boy to be seen anywhere.

Yori relaxed in the lounge, where he settled for a nap.  Garret and I
retired to our room and decided to do the same.

Within minutes Garret was snoring softly.  I lay there trying to ignore the
noise, but sleep eluded me anyway.  After ten minutes or so, I decided to
check on the boys.  I was well aware that checking on them was unnecessary.
They were responsible and could be trusted.  None-the-less....

Barry had his nose buried in a book.  Lloyd appeared to be asleep.  Philip
and Simon?  Well they were the only ones making a noise.  Of course, Philip
didn't play games unless they involved his feet getting tickled.  Simon was
happy to go along with that so both boys' socks were off and each tried to
tickle the other whilst avoiding getting tickled himself.  Both were more
successful at the former than the latter.  I left them to it.

Yori was Japanese and it follows that most meals in his home are going to
involve seafood of some description.  We had all opted for meat at Ashfield
Lakes in the knowledge that this was likely to be the case.  Sure enough, a
dish that looked deceptively like kedgeree was served up for an early
dinner, after which we were back off to the Church.

It was dark and the Chrismas tree looked splendid.  The crib was lit up in
a way that the scene on the first Christmas couldn't have been.  Inside the
church all was ablaze with light as we found ourselves seats.  Lively and
contented conversation swelled and soared.  The boys were as excited as
anybody there.  In filed the choir.

At seven precisely the organ struck up the intro to Felix Mendelsojn's most
popular carol tune.  The choir were on their feet but we weren't going to
let them have this one to themselves.

"Hark the herald angels sing" we belted out.  My bass line and Garrets
tenor were ably drowned by the boys' soprano.  Lloyd could, and often did,
sing alto and I'm sure that's what he was doing at that moment.  It didn't
really matter.  We were mightily outnumbered.  At the end of the carol we
sat and were treated to the choir's conception of "O' Holy Night" followed
by "Sing Lullaby".  The Sunday School performed "Away in a Manger," though
the tune was unfamiliar.  We rose to join in with "Once in Royal David's
City" and "Good Christians all rejoice" (I'm sure those weren't the words I
remember).

The choir next exorted us to "Look Away to Bethlehem," then sang the
Coventry carol (which is particularly English).  Nesta sang the first verse
of "Silent Night", being joined by the choir for the other two verses. We
were on our feet again for "O Come all ye Faithful" then the choir finished
off with "We wish you a merry Christmas".  That was the sign for the tea
urns to be broached, the pies and cookies to be uncovered and the mulled
wine and Christmas punch - yes wine and punch - we're Methodists for
Heaven's sake.  Never mind, it was very nice.  As the choir mingled with
the audience for refreshments I took the opportunity to deliver up Simon to
his mother.  Yori was at my elbow.

"Simon..."

"Which one?"

He ignored that.

"Simon, ask Christopher and Nesta if they come to dinner after Church
tomorrow."

"That'd be nice.  Are you sure?"

"Ask."

I looked around.  Nesta and Simon had vanished into the crowd.

"Chris!"

We started pushing towards each other.  I passed on Yori's invitation.
There was no way that Chris could consult Nesta so he made a unilateral
decision.  They were coming to dinner.

It was a tired crew that dispersed to their various rooms that night.