Pink Flamingoed (8 page)

Jill’s thoughts darted from her brother, her sister,
and her neighbors, then wandered back to the homeless. How helpless and
hopeless many of them looked. How much she wanted to reach out and lift them
up. But would they understand? Jill lay in bed wondering why some people were
homeless and she was not. It was hard, but Jill had kept a stiff upper lip the
whole time she dished out another dish of food at the homeless shelter, but now
she could let it out. One side of her pillow was wet. Jill closed her eyes and
began to pray. She thanked God for a mom and dad who wanted to teach her how
lucky she was to have enough, and wanted to teach her how important it is to
serve. She thanked God for a roof over her head, clothes to wear, and enough to
eat each day, things she had taken for granted for so many years. Then she
prayed for all the people she had served food to that day, people whose names
she did not know, people whose names were known to few people. Each of which
came into the world in the same way she did, or at least in a similar manner.
Yet, one day something happened. One day each of these people no longer had a
home, and no longer had any self worth. And many of them did not know that they
were loved by God. Then Jill felt sorry for all those people  who  did  not 
serve  the  homeless, all those people who still thought that all there was to
Christmas was getting up in the morning and opening presents. Many of these
people’s happiness went away as soon as the newness of the presents wore off.
And Jill prayed for those people, too, and again she thanked God that her mom
and dad had taught her what being a Christian was all about, even though she
did not always remember to practice it. After Jill had cried all her tears of
sadness and all her tears of joy, she fell asleep. But just before she did, she
thought of that homeless baby her dad had told her about early that morning,
away in a manger, no crib for a bed, and how He had grown up and told her that
for as much as she had done unto the least of these, she had done unto Him.

+++

Brad returned to Aylesford Place just before New
Year’s. He unloaded his car and immediately rushed to see if Amy had returned.
No one answered his knock, so Brad checked with Frank and Cora to see if Amy
was back.

“Hi, Brad,” Frank said as he opened the door. “Please
come in. We were just talking about you.”

“Who was that at the door?” Cora asked as she rounded
the corner. “Brad! We’ve missed you!” Cora exclaimed as she ran up to give him
a hug.

“I’ve missed you, too, but I was checking to see if
you knew if Amy’s back yet.”

“So, Frank, he just came to see us to find out about
Amy.”

“That’s not true. Okay, it’s partially true, but I was
planning to come over later. Is she back yet?”

“Not yet, but she called yesterday. She asked if you
were back and  said  she’d  be  back  sometime  this  afternoon.   Since  Miss
Wonderful, Beautiful, and Incredible isn’t back yet, do you have time to sit
down for a few minutes and tell us about your Christmas?”

“She
does
tell you everything, doesn’t she?”

“Well, not everything, but I’m the only mom she has
around here. She has to share her excitement with someone.”

“I guess I’ll forgive her. Yeah, I can stay a little
bit.”

“Would you like some coffee, or hot chocolate?”

“Sure, whatever you have is fine.”

+++

Brad sat near the window watching for Amy to come
home. He’d been sitting there over an hour when her SUV turned into the driveway.
Before Amy could get out of her vehicle, Brad ran out of his house and raced
across the yard.

“I’ve missed you, Mr. Holmes,” Amy said as they
embraced.

“And I’ve missed you, Dr. Watson. By the way, my dad’s
already in love with you. Like father, like son.”

“And I’m already in love with both of you. By the way,
my mom sent me home with enough leftovers to feed the whole street. Would you
like to come over and help me put a dent in them tonight?”

“I don’t know. Will the whole street be there?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, but I’d rather be the entire guest list.”

“That you are.”

+++

As Brad and Amy relaxed in front of the fireplace, Amy
thought of something she had forgotten to tell Brad.

“Guess who got a computer and cell phones for
Christmas?”

“I don't know. Your parents, maybe?”

“They already had them. Well, at least my dad uses
them from time to time, but I’m talking about Harry and Ethel.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, Cora told me when I called her.”

“Harry sprang for a computer and cell phones?”

“No, their daughter Rachel gave them to them for
Christmas.”

“That sounds more like it. But does Harry know about
the monthly charges?”

“Rachel’s paying them, too. I think she feels guilty
that she never gets to come and see her parents.”

“Boy that sounds like a good deal. Rachel sounds like
a good woman to get to know. Is she married by any chance?”

 “That’s none of your business,” Amy remarked as she
sailed a pillow past Brad’s ear.

Not to be outdone, Brad retrieved the pillow and dove
at Amy. After a little horseplay, the two of them just lay there and enjoyed
the fire in the fireplace.

“I really am glad to see you again, Mr. Holmes.”

“And I’m glad to see you, most wonderful and beautiful
Dr. Watson.”

“You forgot to say incredible again.”

Christmas came and Christmas went, and Aylesford Place returned to normal. Well, normal for Aylesford Place. Not only did Brad and
Amy return to spark their relationship, but Melanie and her friend Michelle
returned from their skiing trip with all their bones pretty much the way they
were when they left. Only one thing remained to be done before it was time to
get on with the new year. Amy held her breath as Brad, Scott, and Frank took
down all the Christmas decorations and put them away for another year.

The old woman who lived in the darkened stone mansion
at the end of the street sat alone, miserable, but no more so than she was any
other time of the year. Only her weekly visitor gave her anything to look
forward to, and she was too proud to change in any way that would make her life
more palatable. It had been years since her husband and father had died, but to
her each day was like the day after the funeral. As she sat and felt sorry for
herself, the rest of the street carried on with life as usual.

+++

Part of getting back to normal meant getting back to
church. Everyone who had been gone was excited to get back to church. Those who
did not leave were glad to have the congregation intact, and  look  through the
congregation and see men with hair on their heads, and women with a hair color
other than gray, or their color of choice.

“It has come to my attention that several of you got
computers for Christmas,” Pastor Scott said. “Counting those of us who already
had computers, that means that most of us probably have e-mail addresses.”

Harry looked at Ethel and smiled, happy that he was
one of the “most of us.”

“I plan to send out a weekly e-mail. I’ll pass around
a piece of paper. If you’d like to be included on the church e-mail list,
please put your name and e-mail address on that paper.”

Up until then, Harry had received e-mail only from
Rachel. When Rachel told her parents what she had gotten them for Christmas,
Harry had no idea he would enjoy their presents as much as he did. Ethel, on
the other hand, wished Rachel had given them two computers, so she could spend
time on the computer, too.

+++

Harry hurried to his computer to check his e-mail. He
had received one message from Rachel, plus one from Cora titled Ten Ways To
Tell If You’re Getting Old. Harry opened Cora’s e-mail first.

“You know you’re getting old if you wake up in the
morning  and  can’t  remember  where  you  put  your  teeth when you went to
bed.”

Harry laughed. He still had all of his teeth, thanks
to his dentist.

“You know you’re getting old when it takes you three
times to get out of your chair, and by then you’ve forgotten why you wanted to
get up.”

Harry did not laugh as hard this time, because he
could identify with the second way of knowing he was getting old. However, he
continued to read.

“You know you’re getting old when you have to use a
magnifying glass to find your glasses.

“You know you’re getting old when you look in the
attic and find your old high school yearbook and it was written on parchment.”

The list grew sillier with each new remark. Harry
finished reading the list. When Harry got to the last one, he knew Cora had
added to the list.

“You know you’re getting old when your name is Harry
and your neighbors call you a tightwad.”

+++

Early one January morning Scott Armbruster sat in his
home study when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.”     

Scott looked up and saw Kenny, his ten-year-old son,
standing before him.

“Oh, hi, Son. What can I do for you?”

“It snowed last night, Dad.”

Scott had noticed the first deep snowfall of the year
when he opened his door that morning to get the newspaper.

“Well, thanks for the weather update, but I suspect
that was not the only reason you came to see me.”

“Well, it is and it isn’t. Dad, I’ve been thinking
about something.”

“And what is that, Son?” Scott asked.

He had already put down his work when his son entered
the room and was doing his best to be a concerned listener.

“Well, Dad, I’ve been thinking that I need to make
some money.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“Well, Dad, It snowed a lot last night and there are a
lot of older  people  on  this  street  and  most of them have more money than
they know what to do with. Are you following me so far, Dad?”

“Actually, I think I’m ahead of you. So, you want to
go out and call on our neighbors and make some money shoveling snow. Am I
correct?”

“Yeah, unless you’d rather make a significant increase
in my allowance.”

“My dad always said shoveling snow was good for a boy.
He said it helped a boy develop character.”

“And muscles, too.”

“Well, yes, if he does enough of it. There’s just one
problem with your proposition, Son. I’m the pastor, and because I’m the pastor
and you’re the pastor’s son, some of these people may feel obligated to let you
shovel their snow. How much do you plan to charge anyway?”

“How does twenty dollars sound?”

“I thought you were planning to shovel snow, not build
them a house.”

“So, you think that’s a little steep, huh, Dad?”

“Let’s just say I have a different idea. Maybe you can
go through the neighborhood and ask people if they’d like to have their snow
shoveled, and if they do, they’ll ask you how much you’d charge.”

“Sounds like my plan, so far, Dad.”

“Yes, but here’s where our plans begin to travel
different directions. When they ask you what you’d charge, you can tell them
whatever they’re willing to pay. How’s that sound?”

“Well, actually, I like my direction better. But what
if I can’t get any takers?”

“Well, then you just come home and I’ll let you shovel
our walk and the church’s walk. How’s that?”

“I don’t know. Just what do you mean by ‘let’ me? Does
that mean I get paid or just do it for the experience and to build up my
muscles?”

“How about if I pay you to do our walk and the
church’s walk would be your gift to God?”

“How about if you pay me for both and I give God ten
percent of what you pay me to do the church?”

“You know, doing both of them for the experience isn’t
such a bad idea after all. You could always use a little more character.”

“I think I’m enough of a character, already. Let’s
say, you pay me
well
for our walk and I’ll do the church’s to get on
God’s good side.”

Scott shook his head and laughed.

“Get out of here and remember to do a good job
wherever you go. Our family name’s at stake.”

Kenny tore out of his dad’s study, hurried to the
garage to get the snow shovel, and hastened to the Henderson’s. It never dawned
on him that the snow which was so deep that he was having trouble walking
through it would be the same snow he planned to shovel. His excited demeanor
came to abrupt halt with the first shovelful. But first there were customers to
get.

“Hi, Mrs. Henderson.”

“Hi, Kenny. From the looks of your shovel I’d say
you’re trying to earn some money shoveling snow. How much do you charge?”

“Uh...whatever people are willing to pay. Would you
like for me to shovel your walk?”

“Sure, Kenny. That will save Mr. Henderson from having
to do it.”

Not used to doing manual labor, Kenny struggled as he
shoveled the heavy snow, but eventually he finished and returned to the Henderson’s front door to collect his money.

“Well, I’m finished, Mrs. Henderson.”

“Just a second, Kenny, while I go and get some money.”

Cora Henderson returned with a ten dollar bill and
handed it to Kenny. “Is this okay?”

“Sure. Gee, thanks, Mrs. Henderson,” Kenny said,
excited that he had made some money and forgetting for a moment that it was
only one half of the twenty dollars he planned to charge.

Brad had gotten up early and had already shoveled his
walk and Amy’s walk, so Kenny missed out on the next two houses. Kenny figured
that both of them would have paid him well. That meant Kenny’s next try would
be at the Conklin’s. Too bad for Kenny that Harry was taking a computer break
and answered the door.

“Hi, Mr. Conklin. Would you like your walk shoveled?”

“Do you do it for free?” Harry asked.

“No, Harry, he’s doing it to make money. Let him
shovel the walk,” Ethel said, as she sat in the living room reading.

“How much do you charge, Kenny? We don’t have much
money.”

“My dad says I’m to charge whatever the people are
willing to pay,” Kenny said.

“Wise man, your father. Okay, you can do it. You’re
going to do the driveway, too, aren’t you?”

Kenny had not thought about shoveling driveways, but
taken off guard, he said, “Uh, yes sir.”

Kenny started to shovel the Conklin’s walk and driveway.
The snow was so heavy it took Kenny an hour to finish. Not only did it give him
a chance to develop character and muscles, but it gave him time to think of an
easier way to make money. Kenny finished and headed to collect his money.

“Here’s two dollars for you, Kenny.”

Kenny remembered what his dad said about the family
name and tried his best to appear pleased to receive the skinflint’s two
dollars. He thanked Mr. Conklin and left. As Kenny  headed  to  the  next 
house, he  noticed Mrs. Conklin waving frantically from the side door. She
motioned for Kenny to come to her.

“How much did he pay you, Kenny?”

“Two dollars, Mrs. Conklin.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. Here’s five more.
This’ll be our secret. Mr. Conklin doesn’t need to know a thing about this.”

Kenny swore a vow of silence and hurried to Melanie’s
house. After all, his house could wait and there was no way he was going to the
wicked witch’s house.

Late that afternoon Kenny dragged the snow shovel back
into the garage and trudged into the house.

“Oh, hi, Son,” his dad said. “How did you do today?”

“I made $37.50 and I’m going to bed.”

“But Mom will have dinner ready soon.”

“I’ll eat mine tomorrow afternoon when I get up.”

“But Son, it’s supposed to snow again tonight. Look at
all the money you can earn tomorrow. You could be rich before the week is
over.”

“I could be dead before the week is over. Tell Mallory
she can have all my customers.”

+++

Harry checked his e-mail every day hoping he had
received another message from Rachel. He enjoyed receiving e-mail so much that
he got more excited when he received an e-mail from his daughter than he did
when she phoned. Ethel, on the other hand, looked forward to hearing her
daughter’s voice, and, true to her word, Rachel stayed in touch with her parents
more often.

One morning, Harry became excited, because not only
did he hear from Rachel, but he got an e-mail from Scott, otherwise known as
benprechin[email protected]

Harry read the message and then looked at all of the
other e-mail addresses at the top. He figured all of them must be someone else
in the church, but since Harry was the first one to sign the paper, he had no
idea what anyone else’s e-mail address was except for Frank and Cora.

Harry looked over the list. He knew that redbuick
@mailbox.com had to be Barney and he thought that [email protected] was
probably Brad, but Harry was not sure of any of the others.

Then Harry got an idea.
If the pastor can e-mail
everyone, why can’t I?
Harry thought, so he fired off a message to each of
the people on the list.
Do you go to The Church on Aylesford Place?” the
e-mail read. “If so, I’m Harry. Who are you?

Harry took an hour break to watch
The Price Is
Right
, where he got an idea. He googled “game shows.” He learned there was
an entire TV channel devoted to game shows, but Harry would never see it unless
Rachel decided to give him cable TV for his birthday. Harry had already spent
enough money to watch TV. He bought a TV big enough for a man his age to see
it, and he had to pay for the electricity it took for him to watch three game
shows a day. That was enough money to spend. A channel devoted to game shows
would have to wait. Harry rationalized his loss. He knew the channel would not
have the game shows he grew up watching. Or would it?

Harry spent all afternoon on the Internet. He
reminisced as each website reintroduced game shows and panelists of his younger
days. Harry became so engrossed in reliving the game shows of his youth that he
missed his nap that afternoon. He did not realize what he had done until Ethel
called him to dinner. Harry paid for his oversight. He fell asleep halfway
through
Wheel of Fortune.