A DYNOMITE CHRISTMAS

             The black vinyl record whirled around the turntable of the record player as a needle moved along the grooves of  the Motown Christmas Album. 

            The sound of the Drifters' Do Whop   melody livened up the small living room of the Evans Family as they decorated the pine Christmas tree. 

            The spruce was huge, but did not touch the ceiling although its tip came within inches.

            Thelma was unraveling the silver and gold garland that seemed to go on forever. 

            “Mama, we could donate yards and yards of this stuff and still not run out.  Is it ever gonna end?”

            Florida smiled at her daughter from the stepladder she stood on in order  to reach the higher branches. 

            The red/gold balls were filling the middle section of the pine, but the mother still had lots of work to do.  She hadn't even begun to decorate the back section.

            “Honey, I just hope we have enough to go around this thing.  I know your Daddy promised a big one, but this is not just big-- it's gigantic.  Paul Bunion must have chopped it down himself and lugged it straight to the ghetto.”

            “Florida, just be glad I did not bring the other one home,” commented James.  “I tried, but J.J. and I couldn't handle the thing-- let alone drag it   three blocks and up those stairs.”

            “Well thank the Lord,” she smiled looking toward the ceiling.  “He must have known there was no more room in this tiny apartment for such a tree.”

            James laugh, “I guess he knew what he was doing, 'cause this is the one we finally picked.”

            The middle-aged ruggedly attractive father with a slightly balding scalp and clean shaven face had just finished streaming the electrical lights around the enormous tree which to him seemed to be the most difficult task.

            Once that job was completed, the patriarch of the family poured himself a glass of apple cider spiked with just the right amount of holiday cheer.

            “Baby, you sure look beautiful dangling from that tree like a chocolate Christmas ornament.   You betta watch out.  Santa might take one look at you and leave his wife,” he chuckled.

            “James!” she yelled laughingly.  “I'm not a home-wrecker.  Besides the Nicks have been married for far too long to get a divorce-- and ain't a lawyer in the world who'd take their case.  I think you better put down that glass.  Now come help me with these decorations,” she said pointing to the boxes of ornaments which still needed to be hung.

            “Just a second baby,” he said pouring himself another glass of cider.  Then he shouted, “J.J.  Turn up that player. I want to  hear the The Drifters!”

            “Sure thing Dad!  Coming right up!  I was thinking the same thing.  This ain't no party if the music's not right.  And we definitely want this night to be dy-no-mite,” he grinned allowing his wide mouth to spread across his narrow face.

            J.J. lifted the arm on the record player and estimated where to place the needle in order to replay his father's favorite song, White Christmas. 

            As the record resumed playing, he began to sing in an animated fashion while bobbing his head up and down and pretending to hold a microphone.

            Michael who was busy preparing a place on a nearby table for the Kwanzaa celebration heard the music and abandoned his task as he picked up a red candle and raced to the side of J.J. 

            The younger brother opened his mouth, placed the candle near his lips and began singing,  “Bah da da da, Dut dut dut da dut, bah da da da,” mimicked Michael Evans as he sang along with the vinyl recording.

             J.J. started to sing in a low deep voice, “I'm dreamin' of a white Christmas . Just like the ones I used to know,” he then moved closer to the tree where his mother stood. “Where those tree tops glisten and children listen to sleigh bells ringing in the snow.”

            The tall thin man tried to keep a composed face while he starred up at his mother on the ladder and  his father, James,  joined in on the singing, but laughter spilled from his lips in between the lyrics of the song.

            “Auh, auh, ut, ut, auh ah,” James senior, sang out  in the high pitched voice of an alto-soprano as his musical range continued to climb and his vocal cords strained and vibrated.

            Then Thelma joined in from the floor where she was still unraveling the garland.  Her head was swaying from side to side as her shoulders moved to the beats of the song, “Ay, ay, ay, I'm dream' of a white Christmas.”

            Soon Florida added her vocals to the song and the entire family was bellowing out the lyrics at the top of their lungs. 

            James moved away from the table in a bop-stroll type of walk and joined his two sons who were already making up their own dance moves.

            The room became a festive, active stage of live entertainment as one song ended and another began.  In between all of their holiday antics, the Evans family decorated the Christmas tree. 

            They laughed-- sometimes tears spilling from their eyes as one family member took things to the extreme, but their hearts were filled with love, joy.

            Toward the end of the evening as one record album was switched for another and then another, the mood in the room began to change and become reflective.

            The Evans family gradually began to think of the New Year-- of the soldiers fighting for their country-- for peace on earth-- good will toward all men...

            And then the lyrics of a Stevie Wonder song filled the room with a single promise, "Someday at Christmas there'll be no tears.  All men are equal and no men have fears.  One shining moment, one prayer away from our world today..."

A DYNOMITE CHRISTMAS

            “Greeting cards have all been sent.  The Christmas rush is through, but I still have one wish to make.  A special one for you,” the soft female voice of Karen Carpenter drifted under and around the bedroom door of Thelma's tiny room as she slept.  It was Christmas morning and the Evan's household was stirring.

            The smell of  sliced bacon sizzling in a black skillet pan wafted through the air enhancing the  aroma of milk biscuits and  cinnamon fried apples.   A pot of bubbling cheesy eggs claimed the attention of Florida Evans as she seasoned it with pepper. 

           Thelma stretched in her bed and smiled nostalgically as she listened to the words of the Christmas song. 

            Leroy Hicks had been on her mind all night long.  Even hours after the  family had retired for the night. 

            She wondered what her 'soldier boy'  was doing at this particular moment.  Was he alive?  Was he safe?  She prayed so. 

            Thelma squeezed her eyes shut, clasped her hands together and prayed hard  for all of the men who were fighting in the terrible Vietnam war.   

            She knew the casualty rate in general was high, but in the African American community; it was staggering.  Young boys no older than Leroy were dying everyday.

            She prayed that an end was near.  The country was so divided by the decision to fight the Viet Cong-- there were protest marches going on all around the country.

            The teenager jumped from the bed, threw on her robe and headed for her dresser.  She pulled the top drawer forward and picked up a stack of neatly folded undergarments.  Her freshly ironed Christmas outfit was already hanging on the back of a chair;  she'd picked it out days ago. 

           Thelma smiled to herself as she peered at her image in the mirror of the dressing table.  Her eyes were immediately drawn to the beauty mold above her eyebrow on the left side of her face.  Leroy thought it was exactly like the one that Marilyn Monroe had only he decided her's was sexier.

            Thelma stared at it for a moment and then agreed with her boyfriend.  It was more attractive.  It also was in a very unusual place.

            As the beautiful teen gathered her things and headed for the bathroom, she listened to the song still playing, "Merry Christmas darling.  We're apart that's true, but I can dream and in that dream;  I'm Christmasing with you."