Part 49 (1/2)

And I was walking in Memphis....Walking with my feet ten feet off of Beale....Walking in Memphis....But do you really know the way I feel?

71) They wish us a Merry Christmas

WE HAD HAD Christmas Eve supper at Mama's house that year because Jackson and I both had to work on Christmas Day and Bill and Sh.e.l.ly always went to the Baptist church on Christmas morning. We had to compress our merrymaking into a few hours before Midnight Ma.s.s. Christmas Eve supper at Mama's house that year because Jackson and I both had to work on Christmas Day and Bill and Sh.e.l.ly always went to the Baptist church on Christmas morning. We had to compress our merrymaking into a few hours before Midnight Ma.s.s.

Josh and Eli wore matching sweaters and jeans. Mary had been to the beauty shop with her mother and sported a fancy do full of curls and ribbons which the boys teased her about to no end. Papaw sat on the recliner watching the kids as they opened their presents.

”Bunch of greedy s.h.i.+ts!” Papaw announced. ”When I was their age, the only thing I got from Santa was syphilis!”

”You did not!” Mama said, rolling her eyes.

KUDZU played ”The First Noel.”

”Look, Mama!” Josh said excitedly, holding up Modern Warfare III. Modern Warfare III.

Noah grabbed it from his hands and pressed it against his chest as if to claim owners.h.i.+p.

I shook my head at him.

”We don't kill imaginary people,” Jackson said to me with a laugh.

”Give it back!” Josh exclaimed.

”This better be an iPhone 5,” Mary announced as she held up a small box and shook it.

”Like I need more phone bills,” Bill said.

”Oh, Daddy,” she said wearily. ”If this is not an iPhone 5, I'm going to be so so mad.” mad.”

”You show your a.s.s and I'll take a hammer to it,” Bill vowed. It wasn't clear what the hammer would be taken to, exactly.

”It is is an iPhone, isn't it?” she said excitedly, ripping into the packaging. an iPhone, isn't it?” she said excitedly, ripping into the packaging.

”Who wants eggnog?” Mama asked, carrying a tray of gla.s.ses into the living room and handing them out. ”Jackson? Would you like some?”

”Yes, ma'am,” Jackson said.

”Be careful,” I warned.

He took a big gulp, then grimaced.

”What the h.e.l.l?” he asked.

”Vodka,” I said. ”I told you to be careful.”

”You're not giving that to the kids,” Bill said. As a Baptist, he was not allowed to drink, which didn't stop him at all, but he drew the line at giving vodka to children, bless his heart.

”Some are nonalcoholic,” Mama said primly.

”Whoever heard of vodka in your eggnog?” Jackson asked, appalled.

”We like it,” I said, taking a dainty sip to show him how it was done.

”Puts hair on your b.a.l.l.s,” Papaw offered.

Jackson chortled.

”A lot of people don't know it, but you've got to milk a lot of chickens to get eggnog,” Papaw went on.

”Oh please,” I said.

”You just go talk to those chickens out there. Your Mama's been pulling on their t.i.ts all day trying to get that eggnog for you. Show a little respect!”

”Chickens don't have... udders,” Jackson said.

”Ever heard of chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s?” Papaw asked him.

Jackson smiled uncertainly.

”When the boys was younger,” Papaw said, ”I told them to go out there and milk those d.a.m.ned chickens before their t.i.tties exploded. So they went out and they tried, the stupid fools.”

”We did not,” I said in my defense.

”Y'all did too,” Papaw said seriously. ”And everything was all right until you started in on that rooster.”

”Pay no attention to him,” I said.

”Made that rooster hopping mad, I'll tell you,” Papaw said. ”He had to go see a counselor after that. Then we took him down to the government office and got a disability check for him.”

”Daddy!” Mary screamed when she saw that her present was indeed an iPhone 5.

”Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Mama exclaimed. ”It's just a phone, Mary.”

Mary held the phone up in the air as if it were a gold medal. Then she got up and sashayed through the living room, holding it front of our noses, then pulling it away.

”So why did the chicken get a disability check?” Jackson asked Papaw.

”Well, that's just it,” Papaw said. ”The boys didn't know a t.i.tty from a p.e.c.k.e.r so they yanked on the guy's tallywacker until it came off. Poor thing couldn't pee anymore. Three days later, it swelled up and exploded, so we couldn't get a check.”

I smiled.

”But I'll have you know,” Papaw went on, ”that rooster voted in the next eight elections, and he always voted a solid Democrat ticket. At least until Ronald Reagan came along and he broke ranks, the Christless d.a.m.ned traitor.”

”Chickens can't vote,” Jackson pointed out.

”Can too,” Papaw said. ”Just put your scratch there. Isn't that what they tell you? You ever heard of chicken scratch, boy?”