PpGrowing up McCullough
Chapter 11: What A Night
Flint slowly closed the window and turned with a sigh… surely he'd been dreaming. Mary still slept soundly… of course he'd been dreaming; after all he had just read the Night Before Christmas; the story from the paper to the little ones before tucking them into bed. But, just as he was about to climb back into bed, he decided to check the children just to make sure.
Flint was just about to close the bedroom door when he heard Mark mutter low; "Uncle Bill says, Luke's okay; not a scratch, but you should bring him some dry cloths out to the bathhouse."
"So much for dreams! What am I gonna do with that boy," muttered Flint as he followed Mark down the hall to gather a pair of longjohns, then a quick stop at his room for one more thing he must collect; then down the stairs and out to the bath house.
Meanwhile at the bath house
Bill did his best to hold Luke at arm's length; the smell was so strong that his nose stung, as he opened the door and flung Luke inside.
"Alright boy get out of those clothes," growled Bill, as he turned on the spigot to fill the tub.
Luke began unbuttoning his coat. Throwing it aside, he pulled the stinky shirt over his head as he spoke,
"What is everyone doing up so early...or...a... late?" he said tossing the shirt aside.
"Hold it there, Champ, put those stinky clothes in the basket. And, it seems to me that someone could ask you the same question," admonished Bill, motioning for Luke to hurry it up.
"Ah...do...I have to explain; it's Christmas, and I kinda don't wanna make you mad," mumbled Luke in almost a whisper, as he stepped out of the dirty britches and into the tub.
"I See," said Bill, stooping to add the pants to the basket. "How many times has your dad told you about climbing out that window? You darn near could have broken your neck, with a fool stunt like that," growled Bill.
"I wasn't trying to climb out the window, Uncle Bill, I was trying to climb in it, and I would have made it too, if you fellas hadn't made such a racket-made me jump and my feet slipped and... well you know the rest," answered Luke, rubbing the soap into a lather.
"Yep, I guess I do. Sounds to me like you're in a peck of trouble; starting with that excuse; you know full well you have no business on the roof in or out," lectured Bill with a raised eyebrow.
Luke took a deep breath and sighed, "Uncle Bill, I didn't get hurt, can't we just keep this between you and me?" he said, giving Bill his sad puppy looks, "there's no sense upsetting Mom and Dad on Christmas Day."
"Sorry Son, even if it wasn't' Christmas, I couldn't keep this from your Dad," answered Bill, picking up the basket and heading for the door.
"So your gonna tell Dad now?" asked Luke hesitantly.
"No, Luke I'm not. I'm gonna put this smelly mess outside and see that our Christmas guest is all settled in. See you at breakfast," said Bill reaching for the door.
Luke sat up and breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe until breakfast; that was something. "Thanks Uncle Bill."
"Don't thank me just yet, Champ. I'm not telling him because he already knows," said Bill shaking his head as he left the bath house.
"Aww,no;- Dad's gonna kill me," Luke muttered to himself, as he sunk under the water. If Dad already knows, then there is no saving my butt. Maybe if I hurry, I can get dressed before I have to facehim, thought Luke to himself. He quickly soaped himself head toe dunking himself once more after rubbing his hair into a lather. Satisfied that he was clean, he sat up slinging his head sending water splashing across the floor. He started to climb from the tub, but froze as the bath house door opened. His eyes went wide when he caught sight of the scowl on his dad's face. The look was frightening, what he saw next sent him back into the tub with a thud, splashing water onto Flint, who had crossed to the tub at that very moment.
Flint reached over and retrieved the towel from the nearby hook and wiped his face as Luke started to plea.
"No, Dad, no, please," begged Luke, gripping the tub and pushing back trying in vain to move out of reach.
"You should have thought of that before climbing out of that window. Now, get out of that tub," growled Flint in that low forced calm tone that Luke knew meant doom.
Luke glared back at Flint and then focused his eyes down the length of his father's right hand. He had only felt that darn hairbrush a couple of times. He remembered it stung something awful and his dad hadn't been near this angry. "Please Dad, please. Can I at least get dressed and meet you in the barn; I' m too old to go over your knee."
"Luke, out now!" said Flint, crossing to the small bench in the room and sitting down.
"Honest, Dad, I know I did wrong. I'm not trying to get out of the lickin'. I'll meet you in the barn. You can use your belt or the strap.I'll even take it bare; I'm too old for a spanking, Dad."
"What you are too old for, Luke is all this stalling. You should have thought about all of this before you climbed out that window. Now get your butt out of that tub before I decide to use the hairbrush and then my belt," growled Flint, losing patience.
Luke slowly stood and reached for a towel. After drying off and wrapping the towel around his waist Luke walked slowly toward his dad and offered one last plea. "It's Christmas, Dad; can't I get dressed, and maybe explain?"
Flint didn't bother to answer; he just reached over and took Luke's wrist guiding him down over his lap. Using his left hand to pull away the towel he began to paddle the upturned rear in front of him. "There will be plenty of time for getting dressed when I'm through," said Flint as he preceded to warm his son's backside. After making sure every every inch was glowing red; Flint stopped and started to lecture; "What were you thinking! How many times have you been told not to climb out that window?"
Luke lay across his dad's lap biting his lip; he might have to endure being spanked like a baby but he wouldn't cry out.
Flint shifted his hold on Luke and brought the brush down sharply once on the right and once on the left before growling, "Answer me boy! How many times?"
"Pl...en...ty S..I..R! Pl...en...ty!" yelped Luke, releasing the breath he had been holding.
"And what happens every time I catch you?" asked Flint, reaching down and turning Luke's face up to look at him.
"This Dad," Luke answered quickly.
"This what, son?" asked Flint hoping that having to answer the questions while Luke was still in this embarrassing position, might let things sink in for the last time.
"A spanking Dad; you bust my butt every time you catch me! I've learned my lesson, Dad, honest I have." Luke spat out through his tears.
"Obviously not," answered Flint, as he began a second round of swats with that dreaded brush. Flint didn't lecture any longer, concentrating on making sure that Luke would remember this paddling every time he sat for at least a week.
Luke had stopped trying to take it bravely; he was crying and kicking with every swat. When Flint shifted back to the tender area at the top of his thighs Luke cried out, "Ouch, Daddy, Please. Ow…it hurts, Daddy. I'm sorry. I'll be good."
Flint dropped the brush and released his hold. Luke near jumped to his feet. Whipping his arm across his eyes he fought the urge to bounce up and down and rub his burning backside like he had when he was younger.
"Cover yourself son," came Flint's gentle words, as he picked up the discarded towel and passed it to Luke.
As soon as the towel was in place, Luke reached for the arms that he knew would be there to give the hug he needed. He cried on Flint's shoulder for a time, then pulled back slowly and said, "I'm sorry, Dad. I don't know what I was thinking."
"You're forgiven, Son, and I want and explanation later as to why you were climbing out that window. But, it's late and there are only a few more hours before morning, so get yourself dressed and off to bed," said Flint before leaving the bath house.
"Hello, is there something I can do for you," asked Flint after being startled by a young man standing outside the bath house.
"I didn't mean to startle you, Sir. Mr. Hawks said I could bed down for the night and talk to you in the morning. I've been riding several days, and the other boys told me I could use the bath house if I wanted. And, well, when I got here, well, it sounded like you were kinda busy, Sir," answered the boy glad he hadn't been the one in the bath house. "My names Wes Nabors. I don't expect you remember me, but I remember you right well; so well in fact, that when I finished serving my time, I came straight here. I was hoping you really meant it when you said; if I wanted to go straight, I could look you up. Well, here I am, Mr. McCullough, fresh off the stage and ready to work, Sir," he said standing up straight and offering his hand.
"Well, if it ain't the wet behind the ears Yahoo that shot the sheriff and thought he could take on the world," boomed Flint as he grabbed the outstretched hand firmly. "Proud to see you. Go ahead and have your bath. Mary will be serving breakfast at six, we'll talk after that. The boy in there is my youngest Luke, tell him I said get a move on. Merry Christmas and good night, chuckled Flint.
Christmas Morning
There was so much excitement that next morning, as six starry eyed children stared at the mound of gifts under the tree.
"Mommy, can we open them know?" asked Samantha, smiling as she reached for the bright red bow.
"No sweetheart, not until after breakfast. Why don't you help me and set the table, " answered Mary, as she placed Hunter in his chair.
"I can help too, Mommy; I'm big too," echoed Brooke not wanting left out.
"Of course you can, Sweety. Hold out your hands." Mary cautiously placed the butter dish in her hands. "Careful not to drop it. Put it on the table right next to your chair, please," explained Mary; beamingat how excited the little one was.
Just as Mary placed the biscuits and bacon on the table the back door swung open.
"Morning Miss Mary, I brung ya a batch strawberry jam, and I'll be darn if these scallywags didn't follow me in," answered Charlie,waving his arm toward Bill Barney, Kevin Gary Flint and Wes.
"Morning, Men, and boys. Scoot on in and find you a chair there'splenty for all. I just finished dishing it all up," laughed Mary, "Come on children time to eat."
Flint reach around Mary's waist and pulled her in for a kiss. "Merry Christmas. I brought in a Christmas guest; his name's Wes, Wesley Nabors."
"Glad to have you, son. Why don't you find you a chair over by the other boys at the smaller table, " said Mary.
"Sure Wes, you can have my seat," offered Luke glad he'd found a reason not to have to sit.
"Thought you were walking a little stiff. I guess you caught it good for sneaking off last night," said Mark.
Luke blushed. "Shut up Mark it's none of your business," He growled under his breath and continued to turn beet red, as Wes grinned down at him.
"Boys let's bow heads before all this good food gets cold," insistedFlint when he noticed Mary giving Luke a worried look.
Flint had no more then said; Amen, when Mary shot him a look wanting to know what was going on. First thing this morning, she hadn't been able to find her brush and now putting two and two together, she guessed that Luke had gotten his backside warmed. But, when and for what? Everything had been calm and peaceful when all the children had gone to bed last night.
As if reading her mind Flint reached out and patted her hand before saying, "Everything is fine honey. It's been a busy night and youwere sleeping so soundly; I didn't want to wake you. I'll explain it all later."
"Mommy you have to eat before we can open the presents," said Samantha.
~oOo~
Later that afternoon all the gifts were opened and the Christmas story read. Everyone lounged around; overstuffed from the turkey and dressing with all the timings. All of the smaller children were tucked in for a nap, and Mary was nestled next to Flint watching Mark and Benjamin trying to strum their new guitars.
"I have had such a great day; I almost hate to ask; what happened last night?" asked Mary stroking Flints arm as she smiled at him.
"Well Mary, maybe the best way I can answer that is to tell you a Christmas story," chuckled Flint. Sitting up tall and winking over at Luke stretched out on his belly in front of them.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through' the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the McCullough's dog Ralph;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, (or so it was thought)
While visions of freedom danced in their heads,
And Mary in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap-
When out on the back porch there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window stumble and crashed,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear then,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight not so tiny men
With a little old driver, so quick and so lively,
I knew in a moment it must be Ole Charlie.
More rapid than eagles his curses they came,
"And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now! Hawks, now! Sims, now! Jones, and Vernon,
"On! Barnaby, on! Henry, on! Mark and Benjamin; "Up on the porch! And under the tree! "Now slush away! slush away! slush away all!"
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So into the parlor his charges they flew,
With arms full of presents and Wes Nabors too: And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of some little hooves.
As I poked out my head, and stared into the sky,
Down the roof slid Lucas Andrew with bound and sly:
He was dressed all in pelts, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all; covered by hay and horse poop He landed with a thump flat on his back
Looked like a snow angel that had been attacked
His eyes how they bugged! his dimples near disappeared,
His cheeks were like roses, his nose ran from fear;
His young mouth hung open like a fish on the prairie, The beard of white snow he wore on chin quite contrary
The stump of a rope he held tight in his teeth,
And the broken icicles encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a sad face, and a nervous belly; That shook when he sighed like a bowl full of jelly:
He was neither chubby nor plump, a right bewildered little elf,
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself;
A wink of Bill's eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And lifted Luke; then turned with a jerk, And laying his fingers astride and pinching his nose, And giving a nod, off to the bath house he did go.
Charlie sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight-
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
Mary gasp in fear as Flint told of how Luke slid down the roof, but did not speak until the story was finished. "Young man, what on earth were you thinking? It's I good thing I can't find my hairbrush; I'd give you what for..." she said wagging her finger at Luke.
"Don't worry, Mom, Dad found it and he knew just where to use it. I may not sit down again until the New Year," piped in Luke while giving his backside a quick rub.
"Which reminds me, Son as soon as the little one's wake up you and I have an appointment upstairs in your room!" added Flint wagging a finger of his own.
"Yes Sir," answered Luke dropping his head; he had hoped that his dad would forget about the explanation.
TBC in Chapter 12
A.N. One of the oldest and most popular Christmas poems ever, commonly referred to as "Twas The Night Before Christmas," was written in the early 19th century.
Though its author is disputed, with the poem being attributed to both Clement Clarke Moore and Henry Livingston Jr. over the years, it was definitely first published on Dec. 23, 1823 in the Troy Sentinel newspaper in upstate New York.
It is also referred to as "A Visit From St. Nicholas" or "The Night Before Christmas."
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