A Crossworder's Holiday by Nero Blanc

Author:Nero Blanc
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497671713
Publisher: Open Road Media

ROSCO and Steve walked through the snow-laced village. The sun was setting, and its salmon-colored rays reflected vividly off the icy white, bathing each house in lush pink and gold while the smells of home cooking perfumed the air: potato bread, apple fritters, and the sharp tang of sauerkraut. The chilled air seemed to make each aroma, each image, more pungent and compelling. The scents and sights filled Rosco with peace: small-town America settling into a cozy December night. Steve, however, bundled into his parka, his hands thrust deep in his pockets and his beard buried in a scarf, grew increasingly melancholy.

“When I was a kid, I used to walk along this very street on my way home from sledding. Everything looks the same as it did then; it even smells the same …”

Rosco let his friend’s sorrow linger in the night air before speaking. “The town’s going to lose something very important if your aunt’s estate is broken up.”

“Only Greta would disagree with you,” Steve replied. “In fact, the entire village is up in arms over the situation … I guess everyone feels a way of life is being threatened: Old World traditions, neighbors helping neighbors, family members caring for one another … old folks, youngsters, newlyweds—”

“Understandable.” Rosco interrupted as gently as he could. “You said that she and your uncle Amos had been married for only two years?”

“That’s right. He met her down in Philadelphia during one of his infrequent forays into an urban environment. The next thing you knew we had an ‘Aunt Greta.’”

Rosco smiled. “You make her sound like an orphaned rattlesnake. It must have been difficult for her to make friends—”

“You can say that again. I don’t know anyone who didn’t think she was a gold digger as well as a city slicker.”

“Tell me a little more about your uncle’s death,” Rosco pushed. “You mentioned it was unexpected.”

His response was tinted with a deep tone of devotion. “You remember Amos, don’t you, Rosco? The epitome of the Pennsylvania Dutch elder: an ox of a man with a booming voice and a handshake that could crunch bones. He told me one time that when he’d had measles as a kid, his teacher had turned him away from the classroom out of fear he’d infect the other students … Those were the only days he missed school …” Steve chuckled briefly at the memory. “Absolutely nothing got Amos down. Nothing. Even in his seventies he was out there plowing with his team of mules—on foot, too … But then there was a community event—a potluck supper—and Amos contracted food poisoning …”

“Did a lot of people get sick?” Rosco asked.

“No … Just Uncle Amos.”

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