Another Year, Another Promise

“So, Pop, are we going to get that fiber optic Christmas tree this year?”

“No, son, I have a better idea for the family tree. We are going out to the deep woods, ya hear me? Then we are goin’ to find us the best and biggest pine they ever made in nature. I promise you that, Chester Roy. I got us some of those redneck Christmas decorations at the local tractor, plough and feed shop. We will fill each branch with some of those he-larious statuary hang ’ems!”


“Sure, like you promised me that fiber optic tree last Christmas. I don’t see it anywhere around the barn loft. I found them redneck huntin’ ornaments and the ‘John Deere’ tractor ornaments—but no fiber optic tree, NOPE!” 

“Son, them new fangled lighted trees don’t mean no spirit of Christmas; I want us to have the best Christmas ever. We are going to bag us a fine, ring neck pheasant for our Christmas meal. Also, smarty pants, I am givin’ you a bright future for your Christmas gift this year. It’s about time you learn the tricks of the trade. You will be my partner in the family moonshine business. You know we Appalachian folks love that homemade brew. This is a vocation Chester, like a calling from the Lord above, or something!”


“I am honored to beat the band, over that gift, Pop. I mean I am almost seventeen years old. I should be learning the ropes of the  family business—thanks, Pop.”


“Yup, that’s the little Christmas surprise for ya. Now, we can talk about that tree.”

“It’s just that last year instead of getting us one of those fancy trees for Christmas, you dragged in the dead Rosemary plant. You pulled it up from its roots and hung a bare bulb from the ceiling to spotlight it. If you ask me, Pop, that’s no Christmas spirit. I know you were feeling a little poorly about your first Christmas without Mom, but that pitiful display was pretty disappointing.”




“Son, this year we are going out to the deep woods to cut us down a big, full, and fine pine; that’s an honest to goodness promise.”

“Are you sure we can’t just go to the Tractor and Farm Mart and pick up one of those pre-lit, artificial trees? They can look so real and professional-like.”

“Now, C.R., you know I got to make a man outta you, son. I promised your mother the night before she run off with that nut, Filbert. He wasn’t even a good accountant. Dang, he had no more than a sixth grade education before he got all trained at that H&R Block place. I guess they don’t care none who does the revenuing for the dang Gu’mment! Well boy, I had my heart broken by that woman.  I said, ‘you are breaking my heart, Matilda, ya hear me?! I will make a man outta C.R., don’t you worry your pretty little cheatin’ heart about that, girlie.’" 

"Now, hop in the truck, we are goin’ to get us a biggun!"

***Two Hours Later***

“Here we go, C.R., this is a glorious tree. Just look at her standing all majestic-like and everything. Let’s pause here for a bit and admire her.”
         
“Pop, why are we hidin’ in the bushes lookin’ at that tree? It ain’t gonna grow any bigger in the next few minutes and I’m cold. I wanna go back to the ol’ homestead and start decorating this fine specimen. Let’s start sawing her down. Afterwards, we can go home and have a little taste of the family recipe.”

“Son, you gotta take your time and have respect for all livin’ things. Them green things, they got feelin’s--like the way I felt morose and all when your momma left us. I took to smokin’ them unfiltered Camel’s. That’s some heavy stuff, there boy.”

“Whatever you say, Pop.”

“Dang, I shouldn’t have drunk so much coffee before we left the house. I gotta pee something fierce!”

                                             

                                                   

***Later that evening***

“Promises, promises!”

“What- d’ya say, boy?”

"You promised me a fiber optic tree last year, and you didn’t get it for me. You promised me a big ol’ pine from the woods this year; well Pop, it’s still out there in them woods! Instead, we are sittin’ on this cot in the County Slamma, cuz you had to pee.”

“Son, I had to pee really badly. Dang old bear! Why in hell fire was he leaning behind the tree I was watering? I reckon he didn’t like all that spraying in his direction. It’s a damned good thing I had that shot gun, boy—he was a biggun! I never did see no bear so angry over a wet foot before.”

“Pop, I realize the bear got ornery, but, YOU SHOT THE SHERIFF!”

“That’s the other thing I don’t understand—for the life of me, I have no idea what Sheriff Bob was doing behind that bear!”


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