jg.skippingchristmas-第20节
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hat the Kranks were planning a last…minute party for Christmas Eve； but nobody wanted to e。 He couldn't determine the reason for the party； or why it was being put together so hastily； primarily because Mr。 Krank used the phone in the kitchen and kept his voice low。 Mrs。 Krank was running errands and calling every ten minutes。
Things were very tense down at the Kranks； according to Spike。
Vic called Ned Becker； who'd been alerted by Walt Scheel； and soon the three of them were on a conference call； with Walt and Ned maintaining visual contact with the Krank home。
〃She just left again； in a hurry；〃 reported Walt。 〃I've never seen Nora speed away so fast。〃
〃Where's Luther？〃 asked Frohmeyer。
〃Still inside；〃 answered Walt。 〃Looks like they've finished with the tree。 Gotta say； I liked it better at the Trogdons'。〃
〃Something's going on；〃 said Ned Becker。
Nora had a case of wine in her shopping cart； six bottles of red and six bottles of white； though she wasn't sure why she was buying so much。 Who； exactly； was going to drink it all？ Perhaps she would。 She'd picked out the expensive stuff too。 She wanted Luther to burn when he got the bill。 All this money they were going to save at Christmas； and look at the mess they were in。
A clerk in the front of the wine shop was pulling； the blinds and locking the door。 The lone cashier was hustling the last customers through the line。 Three people were ahead of Nora； one behind。 Her cell phone rang in her coat pocket。 〃Hello；〃 she half…whispered。
〃Nora； Doug Zabriskie。〃
〃Hello； Father；〃 she said； and began to go limp。 His voice betrayed him。
〃We're having a bit of a problem over here；〃 he began sadly。 〃Typical Christmas Eve chaos； you know； everybody running in different directions。 And Beth's aunt from Toledo just dropped in； quite unexpected； and made things worse。 I'm afraid it will be impossible to stop by and see Blair tonight。〃
He sounded as if he hadn't seen Blair in years。
〃That's too bad；〃 Nora managed to say with just a trace of passion。 She wanted to curse and cry at the same time。 〃We'll do it another time。〃
〃No problem； then？〃
〃Not at all； Father。〃
They signed off with Merry Christmases and such； and Nora bit her quivering lip。 She paid for the wine； then hauled it half a mile to her car； grumbling about her husband every heavy step of the way。 She hiked to a Kroger； fought her way through a mob in the entrance； and trudged down the aisles in search of caramels。
She called Luther； and no one answered。 He'd better be up on the roof。
They met in front of the peanut butter； both seeing each other at the same time。 She recognized the shock of red hair； the orange…and…gray beard； and the little； black； round eyeglasses； but she couldn't think of his name。 He； however； said； 〃Merry Christmas； Nora；〃 immediately。
〃And Merry Christmas to you；〃 she said with a quick； warm smile。 Something bad had happened to his wife； either she'd died from some disease or taken off with a younger man。 They'd met a few years earlier at a ball； black tie； she thought。 Later； she'd heard about his wife。 What was his name？ Maybe he worked at the university。 He was well dressed； in a cardigan under a handsome trench coat。
〃Why are you out running around？〃 he asked。 He was carrying a basket with nothing in it。
〃Oh； last…minute stuff； you know。 And you？〃 She got the impression he was doing nothing at all； that he was out with the hordes just for the sake of being there； that he was probably lonely。
What in the world happened to his wife？
No wedding band visible。
〃Picking up a few things。 Big meal tomorrow； huh？〃 he asked； glancing at the peanut butter。
〃Tonight； actually。 Our daughter's ing in from South America； and we're putting together a quick little party。〃
〃Blair？〃
〃Yes。〃
He knew Blair！
Jumping off a cliff； Nora instinctively said； 〃Why don't you stop by？〃
〃You mean that？〃
〃Oh sure； it's a e…and…go。 Lots of folks； lots of good food。〃 She thought of the smoked trout and wanted to gag。 Surely his name would e back in flash。
〃What time？〃 he asked； visibly delighted。
〃Earlier the better； say about seven。〃
He glanced at his watch。 〃Just about two hours。〃
Two hours！ Nora had a watch； but from someone else the time sounded so awful。 Two hours！ 〃Oh well； gotta run；〃 she said。
〃You're on Hemlock；〃 he said。
〃Yes。 Fourteen seventy…eight。〃 Who was this man？
She scampered away； practically praying that his name would e roaring back from somewhere。 She found the caramels； the marshmallow cream； and the pie shells。
The express lane…ten items or less…had a line that stretched down to frozen foods。 Nora fell in with the rest； barely able to see the cashier； unwilling to glance at her watch； teetering on the edge of a plete and total surrender。
Seventeen
He waited as long as he could； though he had not a second to spare。 Darkness would hit fast at five…thirty； and in the frenzy of the moment Luther had tucked away somewhere the crazy notion of hanging ole Frosty under the cover of darkness。 It wouldn't work； and he knew it； but rational thought was hard to grasp and hold。
He spent a few moments planning the project。 An attack from the rear of the house was mandatory…no way would he allow Walt Scheel or Vic Frohmeyer or anybody else to see him in action。
Luther wrestled Frosty out of the basement without injuring either one of them； but he was cursing vigorously by the time they made it to the patio。 He hauled the ladder from the storage shed in the backyard。 So far he had not been seen； or at least he didn't think so。
The roof was slightly wet with a patch of ice or two。 And it was much colder up there。 With a quarter…inch nylon rope tied around his waist； Luther crawled upward； catlike and terrified； over the asphalt shingles until he reached the summit。 He peeked over the crown of the roof and peered below…the Scheels were directly in front of him； way down there。
He looped the rope around the chimney； then inched back down； backward； until he hit a patch of ice and slid for two feet。 Catching himself； he paused and allowed his heart to start working again。 He looked down in terror。 If by some tragedy he fell； he'd free…fall for a very brief flight； then land among the metal patio furniture sitting on hard brick。 Death would not be instant； no sir。 He'd suffer； and if he didn't die he'd have a broken neck or maybe brain damage。
How utterly ridiculous。 A Fifty…four…year…old man playing games like this。
The most horrifying trick of all was to remount the ladder from above； which he managed to do by digging his fingernails into the shingles while dangling one foot at a time over the gutter。 Back on the ground； he took a deep breath and congratulated himself for surviving the first trip to the top and back。
There were four parts to Frosty…a wide； round base； then a snowball； then the trunk with one arm waving and one hand on hip； then the head with his smiling face； corncob pipe； and black top hat。 Luther grumbled as he put the damned thing together； snapping one plastic section into another。 He screwed the lightbulb into the midsection； plugged in the eighty…foot extension cord； hooked the nylon rope around Frosty's waist； and maneuvered him into position for the ride up。
It was a quarter to five。 His daughter and her brand…new fiancé would land in an hour and fifteen minutes。 The drive to the airport took twenty minutes； plus more for parking； shuttling； walking； pushing； shoving。
Luther wanted to give up and start drinking。
But he pulled the rope tight around the chimney； and Frosty started up。 Luther climbed with him； up the ladder； worked him over the gutter and onto the shingles。 Luther would pull； Frosty would move a little。 He was no more than forty pounds of hard plastic but soon felt much heavier。 Slowly； they made their way up； side by side； Luther on all fours； Frosty inching along on his back。
Just a hint of darkness； but no real relief from the skies。 Once the little team reached the crown； Luther would be exposed。 He'd be forced to stand while he grappled with his snowman and attached him to the front of the chimney； and once in place； illuminated with the two…hundred…watt； old Frosty would join his forty…one panions and all of Hemlock would know that Luther had caved。 So he paused for a moment； just below the summit； and tried to tell himself that he didn't care what his neighbors thought or said。 He clutched the rope that held Frosty； rested on his back and looked at the clouds above him； and realized he was sweating and freezing。 They would laugh； and snicker； and tell Luther's skipping Christmas story for years to e； and he'd be the butt of the jokes； but what did it really matter？
Blair would be happy。 Enrique would see a real American Christmas。 Nora would hopefully be placated。
Then he thought of the Island Princess casting off tomorrow from Miami； minus two passengers； headed for the beaches and the islands Luther had been lusting for。
He felt like throwing up。
Walt Scheel had been in the kitchen； where Bev was finishing a pie； and； out of habit now； he walked to his front window to observe the Krank house。 Nothing； at first； then
