Keith rolled over in his sleep, sliding his arm under the pillow. His hand brushed against something hard and smooth. He fingered it a bit, then pulled it out, opening his eyes. He frowned slightly, then smiled as he realized what it was. He sat up a little as he wondered who could have given it to him. Danny? If so, he'd probably be expecting payment for it at some point. Laurie? Maybe, though he didn't recall Laurie having any plans to go anywhere yesterday. But then again, he wouldn't have known anyway. Mom? Very likely. She'd been feeling very badly about him being so sick, though, come to think of it, he didn't feel quite as bad this morning as he had for nearly a week and a half. Maybe he was getting better. He glanced over at the table with the humidifier and saw a card with the music box resting on top.
Another mystery. Putting the candy stick down, he reached for the music box. He looked it over. It was beautifully ornate, and he smiled, taking the handmade card that it had been sitting on. As his eyes scanned the drawn tree and the small crowd of people that obviously represented his family, he caught a movement at the door. The door was ajar about two inches and he saw a flash of strawberry blonde hair as Tracy pulled back, not wanting to be seen.
He coughed once and smiled. "Who's out there?"
"Nobody."
"Hmm..." he said, feeling well enough to tease her; another good sign. "I sure wish I could find out who gave me these swell things. Someobody's in for a big hug."
The door opened farther, and he could partially see her face as she grinned at him through 'pumpkin teeth' as he always called them.
Seeing his smile, she pushed the door all the way open. "I did it; I gave them to you."
"Oh, no way! You? You're just a little kid. Where'd you get the dough to buy all this, huh?" he teased as she came forward.
"Mommy helped me. And...Santa," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Do you like them?"
"They're great, Trace, but Christmas isn't here yet!"
"They're not FOR Christmas. They're a get well present."
"Oh," he smiled, lying back on the pillow, still feeling rather tired. "Thanks," he said, holding his arms out.
She moved toward him rather hesitantly, and he nodded. "It's okay. I won't break."
Giggling, she reached for him and he hugged her quickly.
Shirley knocked softly at the door, and seeing her youngest and oldest interact the way they did brought a smile to her face.
"Well, at least two of my children are up and at 'em. How about going down to breakfast?" Shirley said, smiling down at Tracy.
"Okay, Mommy. Are you coming too, Keith?" she asked hopefully.
He smiled. "I might just do that, yeah."
Tracy's grin widened and she dashed for the door. "I'll save you a place next to me!"
"Okay," Keith said, his voice crackling from the strain.
Shirley bent to feel his forehead. "Still a little warm, honey."
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Do you feel up to joining us?"
"It'll be a change of scenery..."
"True," Shirley nodded. "And maybe some orange juice over ice will cool you down."
He nodded and she helped him sit forward and put his feet on the floor. The exertion caused him to cough, and he rested there a minute with his mother watching like a hawk.
"Are you strong enough to stand?"
"Yeah," he said as she took his arm, helping him do so. Getting his balance, he waved her away. "Meet you downstairs."
"Sure you don't need some help?"
"I'll be fine."
She left, however apprehensively, and he moved to the door, hanging on to the wall as he did so.
As he walked out into the hall, he noticed Danny coming out of his room. "Hey Keith! You must be feeling a lot better this morning if you're coming down to breakfast with us" he smiled, going into the bathroom to wash his hands and face.
"Not one-hundred percent, but I'm better today than I was yesterday," Keith told him slowly making his way to the bathroom.
Danny was drying his hands and face as Keith turned on the water to do his. When he was done, he started to head down the stairs,
noticing Danny keeping close to him as he did so.
"Hey, why don't you go down ahead of me and tell them I'm coming, ok?" Keith motioned downstairs.
Danny thought quickly. "But I want them to be surprised." he smiled at Keith.
Knowing what Danny was doing, and knowing he wasn't going to win, he let Danny walk beside him all the way down into the kitchen.
The other kids were at the table when Danny led Keith through the
door, and Shirley was at the stove, cooking breakfast. Laurie was the first to see him. He still didn't look well but better than he had
the day before. "Hey Keith, you're up!" she said cheerfully as the
others looked up too. "Does this mean you're feeling better today?"
Keith smiled at Chris's wide-eyed observation of him as Tracy giggled happily, giving her brother a nudge.
"Told you he would come down!"
Easing into a nearby chair, Keith coughed into his hand, looking
tired, but not as pale as he'd been the past two weeks. "Wow...didn't realize how many stairs there were," he said a bit tiredly.
"You just sit there and gather strength enough to eat. We'll start you off slowly with some scrambled eggs," Shirley smiled.
"Can't wait to sink my teeth into something that doesn't wiggle," Keith muttered as Laurie laughed, patting his hand and rising to get him some juice.
"Maybe Santa will bring you a thick, juicy steak!" Chris grinned.
Keith gave him a wink, his left hand shaking a little as he picked up the orange juice Laurie had sat before him.
There was a knock on the back door and everyone looked up to see Reuben peek in. "How's my favorite family?" he asked, warming his hands under his coat. Seeing Keith there, he looked
surprised. "Oh, sorry, didn't know you had company...."
"Very funny, Reuben," Keith said, his voice strained.
"Keith? Is that you?" Reuben stepped forward. "Can't be...last I saw Keith, he was laid up!"
"Yeah, it's me," Keith sighed, gingerly picking up his casted arm and setting it on the table. "Not exactly in one piece, but..."
"It's gonna be okay, kid," Reuben smiled. Hauling in a deep breath, he turned to Shirley. "Something smells terrific..."
"Eggs and bacon," Shirley replied. "Well, no bacon for Keith just yet. First we have to see how the eggs do," she said, patting her son's shoulder. She dished the scrambled eggs onto his plate and he looked up at her with a disdainful look.
"Not even ONE measly piece?"
"No, dear. Just eggs for now, then maybe a bit later we can try some."
"Okay," Keith sighed, letting her finish filling his plate.
The other kids seemed to be watching him as he maneuvered his fork with his left hand and he forced a weak smile.
They all returned it, trying not to stare as Shirley filled their plates as well. Reuben sat down and Danny cocked his head.
"Funny," he said slyly, "I don't remember anyone inviting you to join us."
Shirley swatted her middle son on the shoulder. "Danny!" she scolded. "Reuben is always welcome to eat with us, you know that!"
"Yeah, Danny, where's your Christmas spirit?" Laurie pulled a face at him.
"Yeah, it's Christmas Eve!" Tracy shook her head. "You should be nice cause Santa will hear you!"
Keith looked up, his eyes wide. "It's really Christmas Eve?"
"Yeah, didn't you know?" Danny smirked.
"Wow...being stuck in my room for so long, I lost track of time!" Keith said, coughing some and downing some orange juice to quell it. "I have to go shopping!"
There were protests all around. "Oh, sure, right. Look what happened when you went to see Mr. Ramsey the other day," Laurie shook her head.
"But that was the other day. I'm feeling at least ninety percent better. I can just run to the mall, and..."
"No, Keith, you're not up to it just yet," Shirley told him. "I will not have you risking getting any sicker!"
"Please, Mom...I won't be outside all that much. I'll hitch a ride with Gordy, and Skiz can come, too. I have to get my presents bought."
"You have NO presents? For anyone?" Danny looked attentive.
"Danny!" Shirley warned him, shaking the spatula at him.
"No, not one. I barely got some money saved and I was going to do it, but then I got the bronchitis. Come on, Mom, what do you say? Won't take...an hour, and I promise I'll go right back to bed when I get home."
"Keith, it's not that important. Your just being with us here is present enough."
Keith scowled. "You know how lame that sounds, Mom? Come on. I feel bad enough that I messed up everyone's holiday; I don't need to look like a cheapskate on top of it."
"If you feel that adamant about it, why don't you just give the money?" Reuben shrugged.
Keith whirled on him, his pale face starting to redden with anger and frustration. "Because I don't WANT to give money, Reuben! What fun is there in that?" he looked back at his mother. "Please, Mom?"
Shirley took a deep breath. "Let me take your temperature and if it's not too high, I will consider it. But if I okay this, you will finish your breakfast, go to your room and rest for a couple of hours and then go - QUICKLY- to the mall, understand? There and back, no stopping off to visit friends at the Taco Stand."
Keith smiled. "It's a deal," he said, looking down at his plate full of eggs, then up at his brothers and sisters. "The things I don't do for you guys..."
"EAT!" the four youngest Partridges chorused.
Keith diligently tried to obey his mother. After breakfast, he managed to help some with decorating the tree and then went back up to his room to rest. He hadn't realized just how tired he still was...either that or tinsel suddenly became very heavy!
He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, Gordy and Skizzy were there. He could hear them speaking through the chasm as he woke from his impromptu nap.
"Maybe we should just go," Skizzy was saying.
"No, I think he's waking up," Gordy said.
Keith forced his eyes open to find his two friends standing over him. "Hey..."
"About time, Partridge. We were just about to grab your dough and go," Gordy grinned, indicating the pile of money that sat on the bedside table. "Well, Skizzy was. I had to stop him."
Keith tried to shrug off the sleepy feeling that had him in its clutches as Skizzy protested.
"I was not!"
Rubbing his eyes with his left hand, Keith swallowed. "All seventy three dollars'd better be there..." he muttered.
"Swear, we didn't touch it," Skizzy assured him. "You still want to do this?"
"Yeah," Keith said, pushing himself up to a sit. "Lemme get dressed..."
"What a novel idea," Gordy teased as Keith sat up, fighting the urge to cough. He couldn't show any sign of weakness or he was had. His temperature was right at that iffy' stage, as Mom called it - 99.1 - and one little thing could alter her decision to let him go.
Shaking his head, Keith got off of the bed and opened the dresser drawer, pulling out a pair of jeans and a sweater.
"Need some help?" Gordy asked as Keith opened the door, clothes in hand.
Making a face, Keith reached down, snatching the money from the nightstand and putting it into his wallet, which he then deposited into the back pocket of the jeans.
"Don't leave without me," he smiled tiredly, going out into the hall and heading for the bathroom.
"Not very trusting, is he?" Gordy shook his head.
Skizzy slugged him on the arm.
The mall was teeming with last minute Christmas shoppers, more than Keith had anticipated. His fear of being recognized plus the fact that he was still weak from the bronchitis came into play
rather quickly. He and his friends were in the novelty shop, looking for Danny's present, when he heard a female voice squeal his name.
"Oboy," Skizzy said as Keith tried to crouch between him and Gordy.
"Take him out, Skiz," Gordy said. "I'll buy the magic set and I'll meet you in the car." He tossed Skizzy the keys.
Skizzy grabbed Keith's arm, pulling him toward the door as a commotion started behind them.
Into the main hall, Keith shook his head. "I have to finish shopping!" he said, trying to break Skizzy's hold.
"You're gonna get trampled!"
"They won't hurt me...they'll most likely just follow me around."
Skizzy looked behind him at the crowd of young girls gathering for the "kill". "Yeah, sure," he said. "They LOOK harmless."
As the girls started toward them, Skizzy grabbed Keith's arm again and pushed him forward, trying to lose the entourage that was slowly gaining on them. Ducking into a clock shop, Skizzy put Keith behind a huge grandfather clock, getting him there just in time to watch the teenyboppers run past.
After a few seconds, Skizzy turned to Keith. "Okay, I think they're gone."
However, Keith wasn't where he'd was supposed to be, and Skizzy's heart skipped a beat.
"Keithie?"
He started for the back of the shop, where he found Keith looking at some clocks on the wall.
"Hey, man, don't disappear on me like that!"
"Sorry," Keith said. "See that clock there, the one with the birds on it? That would make a great present for Mom."
Skizzy looked at it. It was very pretty, and he smiled. "Yeah, I think she'd like it."
Keith grinned, coughing. The spell lasted a few seconds, and Skizzy frowned, taking Keith's shoulder as he strained to regain his breath, swallowing hard.
"You okay?"
Keith nodded, having gone a couple of shades whiter.
The clerk came up. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah," Skizzy nodded. "We'd like that clock," he said, pointing it out and still holding Keith's arm.
"Okay, just a moment and let me find a box," the woman said, looking concernedly at Keith. "Do you need to sit down, honey? You don't look well."
"I'm fine," Keith croaked, his handkerchief scrunched in his fist.
"Here, Keithie, let me pay for it and you go find a bench, but try not to get recognized, okay?"
Keith looked at him with a smirk. "How do you try not to get recognized, Skiz? Really...I'm okay...but I am getting kinda tired, and I still need to get Chris, Laurie and Tracy's," he said softly. "The two younger ones I can get at a toystore, but...Laurie's...you wouldn't mind picking something out for her would you?"
Skizzy blushed. "Laurie? Gosh, Keith, I don't even have a sister...I wouldn't know what to get her!"
"Mom...Mom said she was looking at a blouse in the mod shop...white with eyelets, long, flowy sleeves..."
"The one in the front window?"
"Yeah, I think that's the one...would you go buy it for me?"
"I don't think it's your style," Skizzy teased.
Keith rolled his eyes. "Very on...she takes a medium, that's what Mom told me. I'd do it...but I barely have enough strength to make it to the toy shop," Keith sighed.
"Okay, okay, I'll get it for you, but you gotta promise to at least let Gordy get the toys. You're right about one thing, you look ready to keel over!"
Keith smiled wearily, pressing some money into Skizzy's hand.
Gordy exited the toy store with two bags, approaching Keith as he sat in the photo booth to hide from his admirers. He and Skizzy had figured it was the most secure place to put him while they traipsed around the mall, finishing up Keith's Christmas shopping.
Parting the curtain, Gordy peered inside. "Skizzy's not back yet?"
Huddled in the small booth, Keith looked up. He had a set of photos he was looking over and Gordy grinned.
"No," Keith said tiredly. "Probably just too embarrassed to ask the salesgirl for the blouse."
"Took some pictures, I see."
"Yeah...learned something, too," Keith said.
"Really? What's that?"
"I look as awful as I feel."
Gordy smiled as Keith stepped out of the small box, going to toss the pictures in the trash, but the taller boy grabbed his arm. "I'll take em."
"Why?"
"Blackmail for later."
"Jerk," Keith said, coughing.
Gordy shook his head, glancing up the corridor. "Want me to go look for Skiz?"
"I dunno...I'd rather not sit in that booth again. Kinda small in there."
"You could always go sit on Santa's lap," Gordy grinned wide.
"Ho, ho, ho," Keith muttered. "What did you end up getting the kids? Something to do with baseball for Chris, right? I'm gonna push for a scholarship when he's ready for college."
"Yeah, I got that mitt and a couple of packs of cards. And for Tracy, they had this really cute Kermit the Frog doll..." Gordy said, bringing a green creature out of the sack.
"What's a Kermit the Frog?" Keith took it, looking at it curiously.
"Something they call a Muppet...a puppet, I guess. The clerk said they're really becoming popular. What's wrong, don't you think Tracy will like it?"
"I...don't know. I guess. He is kinda cute."
Gordy laughed, "He reminds me of YOU."
"Thanks a lot."
"Anytime."
Both boys noticed the funny looks they were garnering from passers-by, and Keith went a shade of crimson, shoving the doll back at Gordy, who quickly put it back in the sack as they heard Skizzy's voice behind them.
"Boy, Partridge, don't ever ask me to buy another thing for you! Ever!" Skizzy appeared flustered as he joined them. A flowered plastic bag dangled in his hand and he pushed it at Keith as they started for the door.
"What happened?" Keith frowned.
Skizzy shook his head. "I went in there and asked for a medium. The salesgirl said medium tall or petite? I said well, she's kinda tall, yeah. Then she...then she..."
Gordy tried to draw it out from him, "Then she WHAT?"
"She asked me if I knew her bust size!"
Gordy could hardly contain himself, but Keith was not amused. "Did you tell her you didn't know? You DON'T know, right, Skiz?"
"Of course not! Man, talk about embarrassing!"
Gordy couldn't stop laughing. "So what did you do?"
"I just looked at her...TRYING not to stare...you know, there...and said, she could be around...YOUR size. Then she smiled and took one off the rack and gave it to me. And there were all these...girls looking at me... I coulda died."
"Told you we should've sent Partridge in there. HE'D'VE had a date with her like that!" Gordy grinned, snapping his fingers.
"Okay, Abbott, Costello...let's just get in the car, huh?" Keith muttered, letting his friends hold the packages while he pulled his coat closer around him with his good hand.
"Keithie needs a nap," Gordy explained.
"I don't, either. But I do need just one more favor..."
"No. Enough favors." Skizzy shook his head.
"But it's Christmas..." Keith coughed.
"Yeah, and we've done our share," Skizzy almost snapped, still flustered with the blouse incident.
Seeing the look on Keith's face, Gordy shook his head. "Wait a sec, Skiz. What favor, Keithie?" He asked as they walked toward the car in the far reaches of the parking lot.
"You know Guitar City, Mr. Ramsey's guitar shop? Can we stop by there before we go home?"
"Sure, I guess we could do that, but that's it. You're going home right after," Gordy nodded, looking skyward. "Gosh, the sky looks weird. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was gonna snow."
Skizzy shrugged. "The weather man DID say it was possible. Something about a cold wave coming down from Canada."
"Don't get your hopes up," Keith muttered.
"I think it'd be great! For the LITTLE kids, I mean," Gordy nodded. They were at the car, now and the three of them climbed in.
"Whatsa matter, Gord? Order a Flexible Flyer from that Santa dude?" Skizzy laughed from the back seat.
"Shut up, Zielinski," Gordy pulled a face at him, starting the car as Keith joined Skizzy in his merriment.
Pulling the car in behind the building, Gordy parked in the old, weathered parking lot. Guitar City was once a grocery store, but Bert Ramsey bought the place in 1952 and turned it into a music store. Once rock'n'roll had caught on, it was the favorite place of many a teenager, especially those starting up their own bands. Keith's first guitar, the one his father had given him when he was barely nine, came from Mr. Ramsey's place, and so did all of the subsequent instruments the Partridges had needed at various times over the years. Mr. Ramsey was almost like one of the family.
Keith opened the car door and found that the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees since they'd left the mall. The cold air struck his lungs, forcing him into a coughing spell. It was a
bad one, and Gordy and Skizzy both reached for him as he doubled over, his face red and tears streaming down his face.
"God, Keithie, are you okay?" Gordy asked, slapping him lightly on the back.
"Do you need something to drink?" Skizzy was standing up in the back seat, leaning over him.
As the spell ended and Keith was able to get his breath, he shook his head. "I'm...I'm okay...just...the cold air all of a sudden," he said, his voice strained as he struggled to breathe normally.
"Yeah, it did get cold, didn't it?" Gordy nodded. "Maybe we should just take you home. I don't want any trouble with your mom."
Keith shook his head. "I'll be okay; I just want to check on something. I'll be right back." He pushed himself up to a rather shaky stand.
Skizzy and Gordy exchanged concerned glances.
"We'll go with you," Gordy said as he and Skizzy scrambled
out of the car to join him.
Keith shivered, sticking his left hand in his jacket pocket. The right one, not in the sleeve because of the cast, would just have to suffer. Damn, it was cold! "I SAID I'm okay."
"It's not that," Skizzy shook his head. "Just...too cold to sit in the car."
"Yeah, my heater's still broken," Gordy nodded.
Starting toward the building, Keith, flanked on either side by his buddies, sighed. He knew what they were trying to do, and he was grateful, but all he really wanted to do was to look on his
beloved guitar just one more time. Maybe after Christmas, he would be able to afford it, but for now, his money (what little he had) had gone to buy presents for his family and friends.
Rounding the corner, Keith's eyes automatically shifted to the window, where sat....an empty guitar stand!
Taken aback, he stopped walking, staring at the stand incredulously. This could NOT be happening! It was gone! Sold! He felt sick to the stomach as Gordy and Skizzy, unaware of his motive for wanting to come here in the first place, got to the door and turned.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
Trying not to show his disappointment, Keith swallowed. "Never mind," he muttered, "Let's go." He turned back toward the parking lot.
Puzzled, Gordy glanced at Skizzy, who pointed silently toward the window. Realizing now why Keith was so sullen, Gordy nodded, reaching out and grabbing his friend's shoulder.
"Maybe they just moved it, Keithie..." Gordy said gently.
"Yeah, or maybe Mr. Ramsey put it in the back so no one else would buy it. That's gotta be it." Skizzy nodded.
Keith took a quick swipe of his nose, which was turning red due to the cold air. Either way, he knew he needed to get out of the weather.
"C'mon, at least go in and ask. Can't hurt, right?" Gordy said, carefully nudging Keith toward the door.
Swallowing, Keith nodded, relenting and leading his friends inside.
The bell on the door announced their arrival, but the counter was unmanned. A small Christmas tree glittered in the corner; Keith had been there on one of his numerous trips in to play the guitar when Mr. Ramsey had decorated the tree, using a myriad of ornaments he'd brought from home. Many of them were handmade by his grandchildren and he displayed them proudly, no matter how garish or crude they were.
"I smell cinnamon," Skizzy said, taking a long, deep breath.
I smell a rat,' Keith thought to himself. If Mr. Ramsey sold the guitar, he didn't know what he'd do!
The old man toddled out from the back room, a cup of steaming wassail in his hand.
"Oh, hello, boys!" he smiled cheerfully. "Well, Keith, what are you doing out? You can't be over your bronchitis!" Mr. Ramsey said, setting the mug onto the counter, his smile suddenly
disappearing.
"Keithie felt a little better, so he asked us to help finish up his shopping."
"Cutting it a little close, arent you?" Mr. Ramsey smiled
then looked a bit surprised. "Keith! Is that a cast on your arm?
What happened, my boy?"
"Broke my wrist," Keith answered, trying to hide the cast in his jacket.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Not a good time for it to happen, what with the bronchitis and all, is it? You look cold, boys. Would you like some wassail? Or some hot chocolate? I was just about to close up
shop, being as it's Christmas Eve and all. Got my grandkids coming to my house tonight..."
"Mr. Ramsey, where's my....the guitar?" Keith cut him off.
"Guitar?" the old man seemed confused.
"Yeah, you know, the one I've been saving for. It's not in the window," Keith said, his good hand sweeping toward the empty stand.
The older man hesitated and Keith grew more upset.
"You sold it, didn't you?" he said, trying to remain in control.
"I did. I'm sorry, but I was hoping to get another one in after the Holidays. I...I didn't think you would be back so soon after it, and...oh, Keith, I'm sorry."
"I wanted that guitar," Keith said, his eyes shining as he averted his gaze to the window where it once sat.
"I know, and I really am sorry. But there will be others. I can call you when I get another one in."
"No, no, that's okay. Can't...can't afford it now, anyway," Keith said softly. "Sorry if I bothered you," he muttered, starting back for the door. "We'll...go so you can get home to your grandkids."
"You didn't bother me, Keithie, you know that," Mr. Ramsey told him as Keith grabbed the doorknob.
Keith didn't reply and Mr. Ramsey looked sad.
"Have a Merry Christmas, okay, boys?"
"You, too," Gordy and Skizzy both said, glancing at Keith. He just looked at the floor, twisting the knob and stepping out into the crisp winter air.
Skizzy went to follow him as Gordy forced a smile, speaking to Mr. Ramsey. "I don't think he's all that upset, Mr. Ramsey. He just doesn't feel well."
"I know, and please, tell him I'm sorry again."
Gordy nodded, zipping his jacket and clapping Mr. Ramsey on
the shoulder before exiting the store.