The Great Christmas Bowl by Susan May Warren

Author:Susan May Warren
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Christian / General, FICTION / General
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2009-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Thanksgiving, aka Parade Day, arrived with the slow creep of the sun bleeding into the gray sky. Storm clouds hung low, and a stiff wind took the tarp off our grill.

The thermometer hovered just below freezing, but the wind chill factor off Big Lake plunged the mercury down to the zero mark.

I gave pride a shove and dug Mike’s orange hunting jumpsuit out of storage. Mike wiggled the costume over my girth and then guided my feet into winter boots. My head girded with a wool hat under my baseball cap, I waited until we got to the high school before I put on the Trout head.

Once fully dressed, I lifted my hand/fin to Kevin and his team, who would march from the school to Main Street, right behind me. Our Main Street is roughly three blocks long, so the parade usually went around twice, just to make it worth the while of the folks who’d pried themselves out of their homes to see a few haphazardly decorated pickups with Santa or Frosty on the back. Our church always managed a nice showing, however—a small group of evangelists dressed as Mary and Joseph and the gang handing out candy canes and tracts to all the regulars.

Mike and Kevin had to lift me into position in the bed of Gil Anderson’s black Ford F-150. He’d strapped a rope around the cab, something for me to hold on to as he drove. The wind grabbed at my head, and I held it on with one fin as we rolled out of the parking lot toward Main Street.

As we drove, my thoughts split between the turkey I’d stuffed this morning and already set in the oven and the angry cluster of storm clouds. I hoped Brianna had gotten an early start.

Cheers as we approached Main Street grabbed my attention. I had to admit to my poor attendance at the Big Lake Thanksgiving Day Parade in past years, having been much more interested in, say, Macy’s. Thus, I was momentarily stymied by the crowd huddled against the wind, clapping their mittens, noses buried in their scarves. It seemed the entire town had turned out to wish our boys good luck in next week’s semifinals. And I heralded the pack.

I stood up straight and waved my fin.

Not a child cried. Granted, I was far enough away with my eyes firmly affixed to the top of my head, but still, as I rolled by Amelia Gilstrap and her brother, waving, they actually lifted their hands to wave back.

Or maybe it was to grab the candy the football players threw in my wake. Still, perhaps Mike had been right—this was for my town, my team, my son. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Halfway through the second swing around the block, the sky let loose and giant fluffy snowflakes drifted down upon the town. I stuck out my tongue to catch the flakes and heard some children laugh. When I looked, they were imitating me.

A Trout of Influence.

Back at the school, Mike helped me down and I slipped, nearly landing on my tail.

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