I enjoyed my recent visit to the Songsters and Scribes studio, which is just a few blocks from where I live in Kingsville. Host Veronique Mandal and the crew were very welcoming. They encouraged me to read from The Book of Christmas Joy.
I chose Chapter 6, which shows Tom Book as a worried father trying to rein in his urge to be over-protective of his daughter Hope. I’ve included it below:
“Hope, you doin’ alright up there?”
Tom tried to keep his tone light. He craned his neck to peer up at his only child. Hope had one foot on the highest rung of a 6-foot aluminum step ladder. The ball of her other foot was balanced on the top cap, which bore the manufacturer’s “not to be used as a step” warning in caution tape yellow.
He’d set up the ladder in the parlour, close to the front bay window.
Hope stretched her arm towards a spot on the ceiling directly above the place she chose for the Christmas tree.
If the ladder tipped, would she land on Tom, or crash through the bay window?
Tom gripped the side rails and kept his feet squarely planted to brace the ladder against tilting. The century-old hardwood floor was uneven.
“Hope?”
He wondered if she could hear him over Rosie O’Donnell and Elmo belting out “Do You Hear What I Hear?”.
The Rosie Christmas CD had been his late wife’s favourite.
“I’m fine, Dad,” she said. “I’ve got this.”
The ladder wobbled as Hope strained for just a little more reach. What was with the Victorians and their high ceilings?
“I just want to stick this tape… right… here.”
Tom knew this wasn’t the time to say she could’ve extended her reach with a yardstick and stood a rung or two lower. Working together on the tree was a way to move past their supper-time squabble.
The disagreement had been sparked by the moving boxes Hope saw in every room on the main floor. She’d kicked at one tucked under the kitchen table.
“You’ve been here eighteen months. When are you planning to move in?”
They’d had to shift some boxes to the basement to make room for the Christmas tree, and the ladder.
The ladder wobbled, again. Tom imagined catching Hope or at least cushioning her landing.
“I want the other line to hang down a bit to the left,” Hope said. “They’re different lengths, so each will have its own space to fly.”
She’d made two origami angels in her art elective. The first, in Mardi Gras purple, green and gold was for her mother, who’d loved New Orleans. The other she folded from a page out of a historical atlas edited by her Gran.
Hope’s wish was to suspend both angels over the Christmas tree with lengths of dental floss.
Tom’s wish was that Hope would not raise her other foot to the ladder’s top cap.
“I know what you’re thinking, Dad, but I’m fine.”
“I’m thinking your mom would love your use of floss,” Tom said. “That’s how she hung all our pictures.”
Rosie’s duet with Elmo gave way to one with Gloria Estefan. They sang “Gonna Eat For Christmas”.
Hope said, “I’m almost done up here.”
Tom said, “I’m sorry I have to go out again, but it seemed like a good idea to still do Bible Study tonight.”
Hope said, “It might help folks to have something normal.”
Tom said, “That’s what Jesse said.”
Hope said, “You like him. That’s cool. After what happened at your last church, it’s got to be hard to know who to trust.”
“Even people with good qualities are capable of doing terrible things,” Tom said. “There usually aren’t clear villains or heroes.”
“It’s too bad you don’t have time for a movie tonight.”
Tom said, “Maybe something short, if it’s not too late when I get back. What do you have in mind?”
“Heroes and villains. I downloaded a Batman cartoon.”
“I thought we were doing seasonal movies.”
“It’s Christmas with the Joker,” Hope said. “Robin wants to kick back and watch It’s a Wonderful Life, but Batman says criminals don’t take a holiday.”
Tom said, “Pretty hard to argue with that, especially after last night. Here we are again. Another holiday, another church, another… How are you doing with it all? We haven’t really talked about…”
Hope looked down at Tom, even as her voice rose.
“Will you take a holiday, Dad? I don’t mean from church work, I mean from playing detective. Or are you already digging into what happened to that poor old lady?”
Tom heard layers in her tone, in her questions. He hadn’t told her about the possible connection between Gloria’s death and the crime family that threatened them in Oakville, or about the invitation from Lawrence to be an unofficial part of the team.
“Right now, I wonder what other movies you have in mind. Classics from your childhood like Christopher the Christmas Tree, and Bucky the Christmas Beaver?”
Hope said, “More like Die Hard and Christmas Vacation.”
“And Home Alone?”
“Dad, you know I hate that movie. The idea a family could fly off to Europe and forget their little boy makes me sick. We don’t forget people, ever!”
“Which is why we’ll have your angels flying above the tree. Are you coming down now?”
“Yeah, I’m done, and I think they look great, but Dad?”
Zeke padded into the parlour and stood beside Tom. His big head was turned to one side like he was thinking hard, and his ears were fully peaked upwards.
“Hope?”
“Look out the window. I’m seeing those weird lights flitting around in the church again.”
Tom felt the sides of the ladder shifting in his grip as Hope stepped down.
She rubbed between the German shepherd’s ears.
“Hey Zeke! Finish your nap?”
Tom lifted the ladder to one side and stepped close to the window to peer out. Zeke joined him, pressing his nose to the glass.
Hope said, “Do you think we should go over there?”
