After Sylvia by Alan Cumyn

Author:Alan Cumyn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Groundwood Books Ltd
Published: 2013-07-26T04:00:00+00:00

Christmas

IT was shocking to Owen how the return of that one small envelope could nearly ruin something as momentous as Christmas. In the morning Andy and Leonard roared out of bed in a fever of excitement. Santa had visited in the night. He had eaten the cookies left out for him on a small plate in the kitchen, finished most of a mug of hot chocolate and, surprisingly, had even left part of a glass of Scotch as well. The boys’ stockings were now stuffed with packages that, when unwrapped, turned into balsa-wood gliders and scale model fighter jets and plastic robots and watery half-globe worlds that snowed drunkenly when shaken. There was also, as usual, an orange filling the toe of each stocking.

Andy’s balsa glider sailed the length of the house and curled back and disappeared into the kitchen. Owen turned his gaze to the presents under the tree. How glorious they appeared in their wrappings, even in the dark shadows before dawn. That tree looked like it could shelter everything a person could want. Owen just wished that among the many bright cards propped in the branches along with the ornaments was one to him from Sylvia.

Even Sylvester was sniffing at the packages as if his long-lost rock might be there.

“Let’s make breakfast,” Andy said. “So Dad won’t have any excuses.”

Last year at Christmas Horace, who was awake by six-thirty most mornings of his life, could not be roused until almost nine o’clock. Then he insisted that no presents under the tree could be opened until breakfast had been served and eaten and the dishes cleaned and put away. So now Andy started the bacon and Leonard managed the toast, and when they were ready Owen expertly cracked six eggs into the big pan and cooked them gently. He even managed to flip one of them without breaking it. Andy squeezed the stocking oranges and Owen filled the sink with hot soapy water so that the dishes could be done the instant people stopped chewing.

They were in luck. The coffee percolator still had grounds in it from the day before, so Andy set it on the stove and when it started to boil he poured out two stiff smelly mugs’ worth. Then the boys sat back and looked at the clock.

It was three minutes past six.

“Leonard, go see if they’re awake,” Andy ordered.

“Why me?” Leonard asked, using his whining voice that cut through the chilly morning air like freezing rain.

“You don’t have to wake them up,” Andy said firmly. “Just open their door and see.”

“We could take them their breakfast,” Owen said.

Their parents couldn’t possibly be upset at that. Leonard knew where the trays were and the boys loaded them up with cutlery and napkins and all the food they had prepared. Then they carried the trays to their parents’ door.

It seemed deathly silent.

“Open it!” Andy urged. He and Owen held the trays. Leonard was the only one with a free hand.

“Maybe we should wait,” Leonard said.

“What for?” Andy replied.

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