Although Al isn’t keen on the money-yahoos forcing him out of the neighborhood, he’s always accepted people different from him. Sexuality, skin color, appearance, gender, politics, religion didn’t matter to Al. He gives everyone he meets his respect. They may loose it, as his current landlord Sal has done, by treating him with disrespect. So when Al’s cousin Frank bumped into the parking meter as a result of his attempt to make the two women holding hands uncomfortable, Al felt Frank should be embarrassed.
Al, himself, was different from other boys during his childhood. They had fathers, he didn’t. There wasn’t a support network for war widows and their children after World War II. Kids Al’s age didn’t understand the sacrifice his father made. All they saw was a kid who was different because he didn’t attend father-son events, didn’t light Roman Candles with his dad during the Fourth of July. Al’s Cub Scout projects were done by him, and not by a father like most kids. As a results, his projects looked sloppier in comparison to fellow scouts. Whittling projects that looked like they were done with a nail file were presented at meeting to the laughter of kids and adults.
Baseball was the sport for boys to play during Al’s youth. Boys practiced with their fathers. Although Al’s mother Olive wasn’t interested in Cub Scout projects, she did enjoy baseball. When Al became interested in the sport, Olive went to the neighborhood library and borrowed books about playing. They went to the park with a baseball, gloves, and the books. Olive wore a scarlet red kerchief covering her high black hair and white sunglasses that angled down from her ears to her nose. Word spread among the neighborhood kids that Al’s mother is teaching Al to play baseball.
Hey Al, you throw like a girl!
A huge difference between Al and the neighborhood kids was that Al didn’t go to church. Anybody whose/s anybody in Taft Square went to Immaculate Heart Parish every Sunday. Kids Al’s age went to Sunday School after the 10am mass while their mothers rushed home to get Sunday dinner ready. Olive completely gave up on the church when her husband died.
Why worship a god when he doesn’t protect you?was her logic.
Although Olive gave up on religion, her mother did whatever she could do to make Al believe in God. After Al’s father died, Olive and Al moved in with Grandma Gambone, making it easy for his grandmother to undo her daughter’s influence. Al’s Chhristian soul needed to be saved was her mantra. She read the Bible to him and taught him to pray whenever Al’s mother was at work. It was a secret between Al and his grandmother. Young Al believed in God until the day he discovered Santa Claus isn’t real.
It happened Christmas Eve 1948. That was the year Al asked Santa for his own bicycle. His first bike was a hand-me-down from his cousin Nick, a weathered bike older than Al. Other kids in the neighborhood had new bikes. Al wanted one of his own. So he wrote a letter to Santa, asking for a bike. The letter informed Santa that Al did chores to help his grandmother who, as the letter reads,
is very old and weak.Al’s mother laughed at this exaggeration when she opened up the letter that young Al instructed her to immediately mail. Although her mother was in her fifties, she was fairly fit in 1948. Al’s mother tucked the letter in her purse after she re-read it a second time. She, playing the role of Santa, would get Al his bike.
The Christmas tradition at the Gambone home was to wait an hour after Al went to bed before they brought up the presents hidden in the basement, wrapped them, and marked the tags from Santa. The previous Christmas Al read the labels on all the gifts under the tree. He asked Olive and his grandmother
Why don’t you give me presents?Their answer:
Santa Claus does that for us.They felt that they dodged a bullet last year and were hoping for no questions this Christmas. The bicycle, they felt, would distract Al from questioning Santa Claus.
A combination of excitement and too much soda Christmas Eve 1948 caused Al to be restless when he was put to bed that night. Counting sheep, even counting reindeer didn’t help Al fall asleep. After an hour and a half of tossing and turning, Al decided to get up. He could see the glow of light seeping into the bedroom through a gap at the bottom of his bedroom door. Everyone was still up. He’ll join them.
Al opened his door and stepped into the long hallway that connected all the rooms in the Gambone’s three bedroom apartment. The hall’s two ceiling lights were on. He could hear the rustling of paper in the parlor. Are they opening presents without me? asked young Al to himself. He slowly walked to the parlor with the intention of peaking into the door frame. Just as he peaked into the parlor, he saw the bike he requested with a large bow on it standing in front of the Christmas tree.
How can the bike be here? Santa only comes at midnight when everyone’s sleeping!exclaimed Al to Olive and his grandmother as he walked to the bicycle. He looked over to his mother and grandmother. Both were sitting on the floor with wrapping paper scraps, wrapped presents, and unwrapped presents around them. A folded piece of paper sitting on the floor caught Al’s attention. He picked it up just as his mother lunged for it. It was his letter to Santa. Al started to cry. Tears were dripping onto the letter as Al looked at both women. They were speechless, their faces white.
There had been rumors in school during the week leading up to Christmas that Santa Claus wasn’t real. Al didn’t believe them. He even told kids he had seen Santa last Christmas. After seeing everything in the parlor, he realized the rumors were true. Santa Claus wasn’t real. He went back to bed. His mind began analyzing other things he’s been told to believe. God and Jesus came to mind. Al also questioned to himself his father’s death. Was he really dead?
Al’s mother and grandmother came in several times to soothe Al by sitting on the bed and rubbing his back, a silent way to say it’s alright. They didn’t say anything to reassure Al that Santa was real. Al didn’t ask them about thoughts that raced through his mind. Al didn’t trust them to answer truthfully.
Christmas 1948 began the period where Al withdrew into himself. Kids picked on him at school for being different. He felt he couldn’t talk to his mother and grandmother about things, for they duped him with the Santa Claus bit. Al walked away from his grandmother anytime she wanted to read the Bible and talk about God. He felt he had nobody. No benevolent God was watching over him. It was a very lonely time for Al.
©2021 Tim Sheehan