Shelter from the Storm
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"Silver bells! silver bells!
It's Christmas time in the city
City sidewalks, busy sidewalks.
Dressed in holiday style
In the air
There's a feeling
of Christmas
Children laughing
People passing
Meeting smile after smile ..."
Chapter Twenty One ~ Silver Bells
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Trenton, New Jersey. December 20th, four days til Christmas.
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Ranger
It is a frigid Sunday afternoon and here in Jersey, it is snowing like a motherfu...um, a lot. We are in the Mega Stop 'n' Shop supermarket. I am carrying my 4 year old daughter Zoë and her bodyguard Arkady Petrovich, whom she calls Monster, is pushing the grocery cart in stoic silence. Monster is wearing a cheap red and white plush Santa hat that is his gift from Zoë. He is not happy.
Stephanie is out in this weather mess with Lula, hunting a skip. She figures the guy will have stayed home because of the near-blizzard snow. And so I have been assigned to Christmas cookie duty in her place—not that she'd be any use making cookies either. Zoë has decided that we must bake cookies for Santa and Rudolph. Not: Ella can bake the cookies. No, we must do so.
A-Stan is looking really good to me right now.
I sigh.
Zoë, who is precocious, reads from a computer printout shopping list. "Daddydaddydaddy! We need flowers and sugar [!] and butter [!] and..."
Arkady puts a bouquet of sad red carnations in the cart and Zoë frowns. She wiggles down from my arms and stomps off to the baking aisle where she locates and hefts a 5 pound sack of white processed bleached cake flour [!]. She tippy-toes up and dumps it in the cart. It whooshes white flour dust which she ignores. She eyes poor Arkady and says, "Flour. Not—flowers, Monster."
Back to her list, she continues reading. "Cookie cutters." Drops a set of red and green plastic holiday cookie cutters on top of the flour mess. "Sprinkles, frosting, red and green sugar," she turns the page, "... butter, syrup, peanut butter, brown sugar, white sugar!-'nilla, eggs, choc' chips, rolled oats...?" She looks at me.
I say, "Oatmeal, baby." She nods, continues reading, "...raisins/optional, cookie sheets, wax paper, oven mitts, cookie flipper..."
Arkady and I lean against the shelves of cake mix and watch her work, both of us awed into silence. And maybe Arkady is plotting my death, who knows? My Zoë is a tiny force of nature—a zillion volts of high intensity energy in a 40 pound body. Today she is dressed in—sigh again—a neon pink parka and neon pink snow pants that are tucked into the tiniest Uggs on the planet. She has removed her red and purple fuzzy hat and mittens and bestowed them upon Arkady to care for. Her big brown eyes sparkle and her dark hair corkscrews madly as she hunts feverishly for her supplies. Arkady and I are exhausted already.
Now she looks at her list and asks, "Daddy, what are mul-ti-color-ed chocolate candy?"
I say, "M & Ms. Candy aisle."
"Could you please find them? And the oatmeal, you like oatmeal, right? You can find that?"
"Sure." I set off as ordered but just as I am turning the corner, headed for the healthy cereal section, I hear voices talking loudly over the rattle of a grocery cart that is just entering the baking aisle from the other end. I freeze and put my hand on the gun stuck in the back of my jeans and, on high alert, I watch intently.
Cart comes around the frosting display and I am hearing familiar voices. I relax a little and wait.
Tall skinny stoner dude, lank dirty-blond hair, says, "Where are we, dude?"
Stockier, shorter guy with curly hair looks around cluelessly, says, "San Diego."
It is Mooner—Moon Man Dunphy—and his pal Dougie Kruper, the fence.
Mooner says suspiciously, "That's what you said last time."
Lost in their stoner confab, they heedlessly approach Zoë and Arkady who reaches under his purple parka for his gun.
Dougie says, "This time I'm, like, 40% sure. Reeeally, man. Forty percent! maybe even—45?"
"I dunno, Dougster. It's a bit of a dump—and look at all the freakin' snow! Are you sure we're not in New Jersey?"
Dougie finally sees Arkady who has drawn his weapon. He says, "I was pretty sure, but look—that ugly guy has a gun! Wow."
Mooner echoes, "Wow," and they stare at Arkady. Mooner says, "So, like, prob'ly, it's Jersey, right, my man? I mean, gun, snow, ugly people...?"
Zoë peeks around from behind her bodyguard and says, "Hi!"
Mooner and Dougie stop dead, then chorus, "Dudette! Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas but I am not Dudette!"
Mooner shakes his head. "No ,of course not, you are InterGalactic Princess Zee, right?"
She nods. "That is right. Except it is Zoh-Eeee. I am InterGalactic Princess Zoë Emilia Manoso. I am four."
"Awesome."
"Far out!"
Mooner shakes her hand and says, "So, like, who's the big ugly dude, little babe? Is he your nanny?"
Kruper weighs up Arkady and says, "Very cool nanny, Zee."
"No, he is—my—my driver. His name is Monster."
"Dude!"
"Dude!"
"Do you know these persons, Miss Zoë?" Arkady finally asks.
"Yes, they are friends of Mommy's—she takes them back to jail all the time."
Mooner looks around nervously. "Not here, is she? I hope? I so don't want to spend Christmas in jail."
Monster asks, "Jail? What exactly...?"
Zoë says, "This is The Dougster. He is a dealer."
Arkady pulls out his gun again. Dougie quickly says, "Merchandise, my man. Only merchandise! Of a possibly questionable provenance, but still. I never sell dope, man, I consider fine weed to be like the best champagne, something to savor and enjoy."
"Uh huh."
Zoë adds, "And this is The Man in the Moon. He is a superhero like my daddy."
Mooner smiles sheepishly. "Maybe not quite like your daddy, lil' dudette."
Zoe says, "We are making cookies for Santa and Rudolph. We are making Monster Cookies!" She gestures at Arkady aka Monster as if that explains it all and brandishes her list. "We have to find flour, cookie cutters, sprinkles, frosting, red and green sugar, butter, syrup, peanut butter, brown sugar, white sugar!-'nilla, eggs, choc' chips, rolled oats, raisins/optional, cookie sheets, wax paper, oven mitts, cookie flipper..."
"Whoa."
"Yummy, dudette."
Zoë nods importantly and tries to peer into their shopping cart. "What are you making? Cookies for Santa, too? Or brownies? You make good brownies, Mooner."
Arkady looks thunderous.
Mooner says, "Just stocking up on munchies, Zee. We have, like, supersized Frito Scoops and ranch Tostitos and kettle fried chips and dip and guacamole. Got us some frozen White Castle burgers and these taquitos. Mountain Dew. Red Bull...ah, some Dr. Pepper. Good shi—stuff for a snow day, right?"
Zoë, wistful, replies, "I would like a supersized bag of Fritos..."
I decide to intervene and walk back to the little ill-assorted group of shoppers.
Zoë is saying, "And we're gonna make peppermint white chocolate mousse"—hands on head being a moose antlers—"with real candy canes. And whip cream. Yum!" She wiggles her antler-fingers and we all stare at her.
Arkady says to me, "Food Channel, you banned Barney. Now she watches Iron Chef and No Reservations all the time. And that guy who eats bugs, she loves him. Zimmerman?" He shrugs.
Mooner and Dougie Kruper finally notice my presence and nod at me.
"Dude!"
"Dude."
Zoë says, "This is my daddy!" while we shake hands.
Mooner says, "We know, little babe. He saved our lives one time! We got (whispers) kidnapped and Ranger rescued us! In Washington DC!"
Zoë nods. "I told you my daddy is an action hero," and smiles up me. She is so proud and happy and, inadvertently, I smile back.
A woman sidling by with her grocery cart, drops a box of eggs. We all step back and say, "Eeeeew."
The woman ignores the mess, stares at me and licks her lips. She says to her friend, " Adorable! Did you see?"
The friend says, "The little girl is really cute too..."
I suppress a cringe and pretend that being my child's hero is no big deal. Like Zoë's words are not just about the best Christmas gift ever.
We stand in stupid silence for a few beats, then Zoë looks at up me. "Daddy? Oatmeal? Raisins...?
"Sure, chica." I add, "Merry Christmas, guys."
And everyone—even the two silly women—says, "Merry Christmas, Ranger!" back to me.
the end of the story/ series tbc
Silver Bells
Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them sing
Soon it will be Christmas day
City sidewalks, busy sidewalks.
Dressed in holiday style
In the air
There's a feeling
of Christmas
Children laughing
People passing
Meeting smile after smile
And on ev'ry street corner you'll hear
Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring
Soon it will be Christmas day
Strings of street lights
Even stop lights
Blink a bright red and green
As the shoppers rush
home with their treasures
Hear the snow crunch
See the kids bunch
This is Santa's big scene
And above all this bustle
You'll hear
Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them sing
Soon it will be Christmas day