jg.skippingchristmas-第15章

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　The　Krank　home　was　very　dark。
　〃Scheel；〃　Luther　grumbled　to　himself。　The　photo　was　taken　from　directly　across　the　street。　Walt　Scheel　had　allowed　the　photographer　to　climb　onto　the　roof　of　his　two…story　house　and　shoot　down　with　a　wide　lens。　Probably　had　the　whole　street　egging　him　on。
　Under　the　photo　was　a　brief　story。　Headlined　〃SKIPPING　CHRISTMAS；　it　read：
　
　The　home　of　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Luther　Krank　is　rather　dark　this　Christmas。　While　the　rest　of　their　neighbors　on　Hemlock　Street　are　decorating　and　busily　preparing　for　Santa；　the　Kranks　are　skipping　Christmas　and　preparing　for　a　cruise；　according　to　unnamed　sources。　No　tree；　no　lights；　and　no　Frosty　up　on　the　roof；　the　only　house　on　Hemlock　to　keep　Frosty　hidden　in　the　basement。　（Hemlock；　a　frequent　winner　in　the　Gazette's　street　decoration　contest；　finished　a　disappointing　sixth　this　year。）　〃I　hope　they're　satisfied　now；〃　plained　one　unidentified　neighbor。　〃A　rotten　display　of　selfishness；〃　said　another。
　
　If　Luther'd　had　a　machine　gun；　he　would've　bolted　outside　and　menced　spraying　houses。
　Instead　he　sat　for　a　long　time　with　a　knot　in　his　stomach　and　tried　to　convince　himself　that　this　too　would　pass。　Just　four　days　until　they　left；　and　when　they　came　back　all　those　damned　Frostys　would　be　stored　away；　the　lights　and　trees　would　be　gone。　The　bills　would　start　flooding　in；　and　perhaps　then　all　his　wonderful　neighbors　would　be　more　sympathetic。
　He　flipped　through　the　newspaper　but　his　concentration　was　shot。　Finally；　Luther　found　his　resolve；　gritted　his　teeth；　and　took　the　bad　news　to　his　wife。
　〃What　a　horrible　way　to　wake　up；〃　Nora　said　as　she　tried　to　focus　on　the　photo　in　the　newspaper。　She　rubbed　her　eyes　and　squinted。
　〃That　jerk　Scheel　allowed　the　photographer　to　get　on　his　roof；〃　Luther　said。
　〃Are　you　sure？〃
　〃Of　course　I'm　sure。　Look　at　the　picture。〃
　She　was　trying。　Then　she　found　her　focus　and　read　the　story。　She　gasped　at　〃。　。　。　rotten　display　of　selfishness。〃
　〃Who　said　that？〃　she　demanded。
　〃Either　Scheel　or　Frohmeyer。　Who　knows。　I'm　in　the　shower。〃
　〃How　dare　they！〃　Nora　said；　still　gawking　at　the　photo。
　Atta　girl；　thought　Luther。　Get　mad。　Stiffen　your　back。　Just　four　days　to　go…we're　not　collapsing　now。
　
　That　night；　after　dinner　and　an　effort　at　television；　Luther　decided　to　take　a　walk。　He　bundled　up　and　wrapped　a　wool　scarf　around　his　neck；　it　was　below　freezing　outside　with　a　chance　of　snow。　He　and　Nora　had　bought　one　of　the　first　homes　on　Hemlock；　damned　if　he'd　be　forced　to　hide　inside。　This　was　his　street；　his　neighborhood；　his　friends。　One　day　soon　this　little　episode　would　be　forgotten。　
　Luther　ambled　along；　hands　stuck　deep　in　his　pockets；　cold　air　invigorating　his　lungs。
　He　made　it　to　the　far　end；　to　the　intersection　of　Moss　Point；　before　Spike　Frohmeyer　picked　up　his　trail　and　caught　him　on　a　skateboard。　〃Hi；　Mr。　Krank；〃　he　said　as　he　rolled　to　a　stop。
　〃Well　hello；　Spike。〃
　〃What　brings　you　out？〃
　〃Just　taking　a　little　walk。〃
　〃Enjoying　the　Christmas　decorations？〃
　〃Of　course。　What　brings　you　out？〃
　〃Just　watching　the　street；〃　Spike　said；　then　looked　around　as　if　an　invasion　were　imminent。
　〃What's　Santa　gonna　bring　you？〃
　Spike　smiled　and　pondered　for　a　second。　〃Not　sure；　but　probably　a　Gameboy　and　a　hockey　stick　and　a　set　of　drums。〃
　〃Quite　a　haul。〃
　〃Course　I　don't　really　believe　anymore；　you　know。　But　Mike's　just　five　so　we　still　pretend。〃
　〃Sure。〃
　〃Gotta　go。　Merry　Christmas。〃　
　〃Merry　Christmas　to　you；　Spike；〃　Luther　said；　uttering　the　forbidden　greeting　for　what　he　hoped　was　the　first　and　last　time　of　the　season。　Spike　disappeared　down　Hemlock；　no　doubt　racing　home　to　report　to　his　father　that　Mr。　Krank　was　out　of　his　house　and　loose　on　the　sidewalk。
　Luther　stopped　in　front　of　the　Trogdons'　spectacle…more　than　fourteen　thousand　lights　draped　over　trees　and　shrubs　and　windows　and　porch　columns。　Up　on　the　roof　with　Frosty　was　Santa　and　his　reindeer…Rudolph　of　course　with　a　bright；　flashing　nose…all　perfectly　outlined　with　white　lights。　The　roof　itself　was　lined　with　two　rows　of　red　and　green；　blinking　alternatively。　The　chimney　was　flashing　too…hundreds　of　blue　lights　pulsating　at　once　and　casting　an　eerie　glow　over　old　Frosty。　Along　the　holly　bushes　next　to　the　house　a　squad　of　tin　soldiers　stood　guard；　each　as　tall　as　a　human　and　wrapped　with　multicolored　lights。　In　the　center　of　the　lawn　was　a　handsome　Nativity　scene；　plete　with　real　hay　bales　and　a　goat　whose　tail　went　up　and　down。
　Quite　a　show。
　Luther　heard　something；　a　ladder　falling　in　the　garage　next　to　the　Trogdons'。　The　garage　door　was　up　and　through　the　shadows　he　saw　Walt　Scheel　wrestling　with　yet　another　strand　of　lights。　He　walked　over　and　caught　Walt　off　guard。　〃Evening；　Walt；〃　he　said　pleasantly。
　〃Well；　if　it　isn't　ole　Scrooge　himself；〃　Walt　said　with　a　forced　smile。　They　shook　hands　and　each　tried　to　think　of　something　cutting　and　witty。　Luther　took　a　step　back；　looked　up；　and　said；　〃How'd　that　photographer　get　up　there？〃
　〃Which　photographer？〃
　〃The　one　from　the　Gazette。〃
　〃Oh；　that　one。〃
　〃Yes；　that　one。〃
　〃He　climbed　up。〃　
　〃No　kidding。　Why'd　you　let　him？〃
　〃I　don't　know。　Said　he　wanted　to　get　the　whole　street。〃
　Luther　snorted　and　waved　it　off。　〃I'm　a　little　surprised　at　you；　Walt；〃　he　said；　though　he　wasn't　surprised　at　all。　For　eleven　years　they'd　been　cordial　an　the　surface；　neither　wanting　an　outright　feud。　But　Luther　didn't　like　Walt　for　his　snobbery　and　one…upmanship。　And　Walt　didn't　care　for　Luther　because　he'd　suspected　for　years　that　their　salaries　were　almost　equal。
　〃And　I'm　a　little　surprised　at　you；〃　Walt　said；　but　neither　neighbor　was　surprised　at　all。
　〃I　think　you　have　a　light　out　over　there；〃　Luther　said；　pointing　to　a　shrub　wrapped　with　a　hundred　lights。　
　〃I'll　get　right　on　it。〃
　〃See　you；〃　Luther　said；　walking　away。　
　〃Merry　Christmas；〃　Walt　called　after　him。　
　〃Yeah；　yeah。〃
　
　
　Eleven
　
　The　Wiley　&　Beck　office　Christmas　party　would　begin　with　a　lunch　catered　by　two　feuding　Greek　brothers　who　made　the　best　baklava　in　the　city。　The　bar　opened　at　precisely　eleven　forty…five…three　bars　actually…and　soon　thereafter　things　got　sloppy。　Stanley　Wiley　would　be　the　first　to　get　smashed…he'd　blame　it　on　the　loaded　eggnog…and　he'd　stand　on　a　box　at　the　end　of　the　conference　table　and　deliver　the　same　speech　he'd　given　a　week　earlier　at　the　black…tie　Christmas　dinner。　Then　they'd　present　him　with　a　gift；　a　shotgun　or　a　new　sand　wedge　or　some　other　useless　souvenir　that　he'd　practically　cry　over；　then　quietly　give　to　a　client　months　later。　There'd　be　other　gifts；　some　speeches　and　gags；　and　a　song　or　two　as　the　booze　flowed。　Two　male　strippers　appeared　one　year；　and；　to　the　beat　of　a　howling　boom　box；　disrobed　down　to　their　leopard　thongs　while　the　men　ran　for　cover　and　the　secretaries　squealed　with　delight。　Dox；　Luther's　secretary；　had　squealed　the　loudest　and　still　had　photos　of　the　boys。　In　a　memo；　Stanley　had　banned　future　strippers。
　By　five；　some　of　the　most　starched　and　staid　accountants　at　Wiley　&　Beck　would　be　groping　or　attempting　to　grope　some　of　the　homeliest　secretaries。　Getting　plastered　was　accepted　behavior。　They'd　haul　Stanley　to　his　office　and　fill　him　with　coffee　before　he　could　go　home。　The　firm　hired　cars　so　no　one　would　drive。
　All　in　all；　it　was　a　mess。　But　the　partners　loved　it　because　it　was　a　good　drunk　away　from　their　wives；　who'd　been　properly　entertained　at　the　firm's　fancy　Christmas　dinner　and　had　never　been　invited　to　the　office　party。　The　secretaries　loved　it　because　they　saw　and　heard　things　they　could　tuck　away　and　use　as　blackmail　for　the　rest　of　the　year。　
　Luther　hated　the　Christmas　party　even　in　a　good　year。　He　drank　little　and　never　got　drunk；　and　every　year　he　was　embarrassed　for　his　colleagues　as　they　made　fools　of　themselves。
　So　he　stayed　in　his　office　with　his　door　locked　and　tended　to　last…minute　details。　Then　some　music　started　down　the　hall　just　after　11　A。M。　Luther　found　the　right　moment　and　disappeared。　It　was　the　twenty…third　of　December。　He　wouldn't　return　until　the　sixth　of　January；　and　by　then　the　office　would　be　back　to　normal。
　Good　riddance。
　He　stepped　into　the　travel　agency