jg.skippingchristmas-第14部分

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　〃Oh；　that　one。〃
　〃Yes；　that　one。〃
　〃He　climbed　up。〃　
　〃No　kidding。　Why'd　you　let　him？〃
　〃I　don't　know。　Said　he　wanted　to　get　the　whole　street。〃
　Luther　snorted　and　waved　it　off。　〃I'm　a　little　surprised　at　you；　Walt；〃　he　said；　though　he　wasn't　surprised　at　all。　For　eleven　years　they'd　been　cordial　an　the　surface；　neither　wanting　an　outright　feud。　But　Luther　didn't　like　Walt　for　his　snobbery　and　one…upmanship。　And　Walt　didn't　care　for　Luther　because　he'd　suspected　for　years　that　their　salaries　were　almost　equal。
　〃And　I'm　a　little　surprised　at　you；〃　Walt　said；　but　neither　neighbor　was　surprised　at　all。
　〃I　think　you　have　a　light　out　over　there；〃　Luther　said；　pointing　to　a　shrub　wrapped　with　a　hundred　lights。　
　〃I'll　get　right　on　it。〃
　〃See　you；〃　Luther　said；　walking　away。　
　〃Merry　Christmas；〃　Walt　called　after　him。　
　〃Yeah；　yeah。〃
　
　
　Eleven
　
　The　Wiley　&　Beck　office　Christmas　party　would　begin　with　a　lunch　catered　by　two　feuding　Greek　brothers　who　made　the　best　baklava　in　the　city。　The　bar　opened　at　precisely　eleven　forty…five…three　bars　actually…and　soon　thereafter　things　got　sloppy。　Stanley　Wiley　would　be　the　first　to　get　smashed…he'd　blame　it　on　the　loaded　eggnog…and　he'd　stand　on　a　box　at　the　end　of　the　conference　table　and　deliver　the　same　speech　he'd　given　a　week　earlier　at　the　black…tie　Christmas　dinner。　Then　they'd　present　him　with　a　gift；　a　shotgun　or　a　new　sand　wedge　or　some　other　useless　souvenir　that　he'd　practically　cry　over；　then　quietly　give　to　a　client　months　later。　There'd　be　other　gifts；　some　speeches　and　gags；　and　a　song　or　two　as　the　booze　flowed。　Two　male　strippers　appeared　one　year；　and；　to　the　beat　of　a　howling　boom　box；　disrobed　down　to　their　leopard　thongs　while　the　men　ran　for　cover　and　the　secretaries　squealed　with　delight。　Dox；　Luther's　secretary；　had　squealed　the　loudest　and　still　had　photos　of　the　boys。　In　a　memo；　Stanley　had　banned　future　strippers。
　By　five；　some　of　the　most　starched　and　staid　accountants　at　Wiley　&　Beck　would　be　groping　or　attempting　to　grope　some　of　the　homeliest　secretaries。　Getting　plastered　was　accepted　behavior。　They'd　haul　Stanley　to　his　office　and　fill　him　with　coffee　before　he　could　go　home。　The　firm　hired　cars　so　no　one　would　drive。
　All　in　all；　it　was　a　mess。　But　the　partners　loved　it　because　it　was　a　good　drunk　away　from　their　wives；　who'd　been　properly　entertained　at　the　firm's　fancy　Christmas　dinner　and　had　never　been　invited　to　the　office　party。　The　secretaries　loved　it　because　they　saw　and　heard　things　they　could　tuck　away　and　use　as　blackmail　for　the　rest　of　the　year。　
　Luther　hated　the　Christmas　party　even　in　a　good　year。　He　drank　little　and　never　got　drunk；　and　every　year　he　was　embarrassed　for　his　colleagues　as　they　made　fools　of　themselves。
　So　he　stayed　in　his　office　with　his　door　locked　and　tended　to　last…minute　details。　Then　some　music　started　down　the　hall　just　after　11　A。M。　Luther　found　the　right　moment　and　disappeared。　It　was　the　twenty…third　of　December。　He　wouldn't　return　until　the　sixth　of　January；　and　by　then　the　office　would　be　back　to　normal。
　Good　riddance。
　He　stepped　into　the　travel　agency　to　say　good…bye　to　Biff；　but　she　was　already　gone；　off　to　a　fabulous　new　resort　in　Mexico　that　offered　a　holiday　package。　He　walked　briskly　to　his　car；　quite　proud　that　he　was　skipping　the　madness　up　on　the　sixth　floor。　He　drove　toward　the　mall；　for　one　last　tanning　session；　one　last　look　at　the　crush　of　idiots　who'd　waited　till　almost　the　last　minute　to　buy　whatever　was　left　in　the　stores。　The　traffic　was　dense　and　slow；　and　when　he　finally　arrived　at　the　mall　a　traffic　cop　was　blocking　the　entrance。　Parking　lots　were　full。　No　more　room。　Go　away。
　Gladly；　thought　Luther。
　He　met　Nora　for　lunch　at　a　crowded　bakery　in　the　District。　They'd　actually　made　a　reservation；　something　unheard　of　for　the　rest　of　the　year。　He　was　late。　She'd　been　crying。
　〃It's　Bev　Scheel；〃　she　said。　〃Went　for　a　checkup　yesterday。　The　cancer's　back；　for　the　third　time。〃
　Though　Luther　and　Walt　had　never　been　close；　their　wives　had　managed　to　maintain　good　relations　over　the　past　couple　of　years。　Truth　was；　for　many　years　no　one　on　Hemlock　had　much　to　do　with　the　Scheels。　They'd　worked　hard　to　have　more；　and　their　higher　ine　had　always　been　on　display。
　〃It's　spread　to　her　lungs；〃　Nora　said；　wiping　her　eyes。　They　ordered　sparkling　water。　〃And　they　suspect　it's　in　her　kidneys　and　liver。〃
　Luther　winced　as　the　horrific　disease　crept　on。　〃That's　awful；〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice。
　〃This　could　be　her　last　Christmas。〃
　〃Did　her　doctor　say　that？〃　he　asked；　wary　of　amateur　prognostications。　
　〃No；　I　did。〃
　They　dwelt　on　the　Scheels　far　too　long；　and　when　Luther'd　had　enough　he　said；　〃We　leave　in　forty…eight　hours。　Cheers。〃　They　touched　plastic　glasses　and　Nora　managed　a　smile。
　Halfway　through　their　salads；　Luther　asked；　〃Any　regrets？〃
　She　shook　her　head　no；　swallowed；　and　said；　〃Oh；　I've　missed　the　tree　at　times；　the　decorations；　the　music；　the　memories；　I　guess。　But　not　the　traffic　and　shopping　and　stress。　It　was　a　great　idea；　Luther。〃
　〃I'm　a　genius。〃
　〃Let's　not　get　carried　away。　You　think　Blair　will　even　think　about　Christmas？〃
　〃Not　if　she's　lucky。　Doubt　it；〃　he　said　with　a　mouthful。　〃She's　working　with　a　bunch　of　heathen　savages　who　worship　rivers　and　such。　Why　should　they　take　a　break　for　Christmas？〃
　〃That's　a　little　harsh；　Luther。　Savages？〃
　〃Just　kidding；　dear。　I'm　sure　they're　gentle　people。　Not　to　worry。〃
　〃She　said　she　never　looks　at　a　calendar。〃
　〃Now　that's　impressive。　I've　got　two　calendars　in　my　office　and　I　still　forget　which　day　it　is。〃
　Millie　from　the　Women's　Clinic　barged　in　with　a　hug　for　Nora　and　a　Merry　Christmas　for　Luther；　who　would've　otherwise　been　irritated　except　that　Millie　was　tall　and　lanky　and　very　cute　for　a　woman　her　age。　Early　fifties。
　〃You　heard　about　Bev　Scheel；〃　Millie　whispered　as　if　Luther　had　suddenly　vanished。　Now　he　was　irritated。　He　prayed　bed　never　be　stricken　with　some　dreadful　disease；　not　in　this　city。　The　volunteer　women　would　know　about　it　before　he　did。
　Give　me　a　heart　attack　or　a　car　wreck；　something　quick。　Something　that　cannot　be　whispered　about　while　I　linger。
　Millie　finally　left；　and　they　finished　their　salads。　Luther　was　famished　as　he　paid　the　check；　and　caught　himself　once　again　dreaming　of　the　luxurious　spreads　of　food　in　the　Island　Princess　brochures。
　Nora　had　errands　to　run。　Luther　did　not。　He　drove　to　Hemlock；　parked　in　his　driveway；　a　little　relieved　that　there　were　no　neighbors　loitering　near　his　house。　In　the　daily　mail　there　were　four　more　anonymous　Frosty　Christmas　cards；　these　postmarked　in　Rochester；　Fort　Worth；　Green　Bay；　and　St。　Louis。　Frohmeyer's　bunch　at　the　university　traveled　a　lot；　and　Luther　suspected　this　was　their　little　game。　Frohmeyer　was　restless　and　creative　enough　to　mastermind　such　a　prank。　Thirty…one　Frosty　cards　had　now　been　received；　two　all　the　way　from　Vancouver。　Luther　was　saving　them；　and　when　he　returned　from　the　Caribbean　he　planned　to　stuff　them　in　a　large　envelope　and　mail　them；　anonymously　of　course；　to　Vic　Frohmeyer；　two　doors　down。
　〃They'll　arrive　with　all　of　his　credit　card　bills；〃　Luther　said　to　himself　as　he　put　the　Frosty　cards　in　a　drawer　with　the　others。　He　made　a　fire；　settled　under　a　quilt　in　his　chair；　and　fell　asleep。
　
　It　was　a　rowdy　night　on　Hemlock。　Marauding　bands　of　boisterous　carolers　took　turns　at　the　Krank　house。　Often　they　were　assisted　by　neighbors　seized　by　the　spirit　of　the　moment。　At　one　point；　a　chant　of　〃We　Want　Frosty！〃　erupted　behind　a　choir　from　the　Lions　Club。
　Handmade　signs　demanding　〃Free　Frosty〃　appeared；　the　first　hammered　into　the　ground　by　none　other　than　Spike　Frohmeyer。　He　and　his　little　gang　were　up　and　dawn　Hemlock；　on　skateboards　and　bikes；　yelling　and　reveling　in　their　pre…Christmas　Eve　exuberance。
　An　impromptu　block　party　materialized。　Trish　Trogdon　fixed　hot　cocoa　for　the　kids　while　her　husband；　Wes；　rigged　up　speakers　in　the　driveway。　Soon　〃Frosty　the　Snowman〃　and　〃Jingle　Bells〃　were　wafting　through　the　night；　interrupted　only　when　a　real　choir　arrived　to　serenade　the　Kranks。　Wes　played　a　selection　of　favorites；　but　his　favorite　that　night　was　〃Frosty。〃
　The　Krank　home　remained　dark　and　quiet；　locked　and　secure。　Nora　was　in　the　bedroom　gathering　what　she　wanted　to　pack。　Luther　was　in　the　basement；　trying　to　read。
　
　
　Twelve
　
　Christmas　Eve。　Luther　and　Nora　slept　until　almost　7　A。M。；　when　the　phone　awakened　them。　〃May　I　speak　to　Frosty？〃　came　the　voice　of　a　teenager；　and　before　Luther　could　shoot　back　a　retort　the　line　was　dead。　He　managed　to　laugh　though；　and　as　he　jumped　out　of　bed　he　patted　his　rather　firm　stomach　and　said；　〃The　islands　are　calling　us；　dear。　Let's　pack。〃
　〃Fetch　my　coffee；〃　she　said　and　slid　deeper　under　the　covers。
　The　morning　was　overcast　and　cold；　the　chance　of　a　white　Christmas　fifty…fifty。　Luther　certainly　didn't　want　one。　Nora　would　lapse　into　a　spell　of　nostalgia　if　snow　fell　on　Christmas　Eve。　She'd　grown　up　in　Connecticut；　where；　according　to　her；　every　Christmas　had　been　white。
　Luther　didn't　want　the　weather　meddling　with　their　flight　tomorrow。
　He　stood　at　the　front　window；　exactly　where　the　tree　wo