A Prospector's Christmas Story
copyright 1999 G.M. "DOC" Lousignont, Ph.D.
1 of 6
Part 2 of 6
The day after the funeral Sally, Sam’s daughter, and Frank, her husband, came back to the house with Sam’s 3 year old granddaughter Jessica. They helped him clean and tidy up. The previous day had been very trying for everyone, and after the friends and family who had stopped by the house after the funeral had left, everyone was too exhausted to straighten the place up.
It didn’t take long, under Sally’s gentle guidance and direction, for the place to look spotless again; just like Mary would have liked it. By noon all was done and Sally had fixed sandwiches and tomato soup for the four of them."Daddy, we need to talk." "Yeah, honey I want to talk to you kids too, but you go first." Sally began, "Daddy, Frank and I had a long discussion, and we both decided, well, Frank you tell him." Sally started to get teary eyed, and her voice was starting to strain under her efforts to keep from crying. "Sam." "What Frank? For cryin’ out loud just spit it out, you two OK, I mean you’re not getting divorced or something?" "Daddy!" Sally said in a protesting tone. "Sam, don’t be ridiculous, you know how much I love your little girl."
And Sam did know that. He always had a good read on people, and from the first couple of times that Sally had brought Frank around the house for dinner, until two years later when they married, Sam had always considered Frank a keeper. "Good Christian boy that son-in-law of mine!" he would brag to his buddies that congregated outside the barber shop every day, "Damn right! Good Republican too! You know he worked his way through law school, to cover whatever his academic scholarships didn’t!"
"Yes Sam we know because you tell us this same damn story every week!"
"Yeah well you better pay attention because this son-in-law of mine is gonna’ go places one of these days. Wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he was governor of this state some day, yessireebob, maybe Senator! Hell he’d make a damn fine President! Bring some god damn ethics back to politics."
"Oh Geezus here he goes again boys!" And they’d all just laugh and nod their heads in agreement with whatever Sam said.
You didn’t want to take issue with Sam when he was talkin’ about Mary, or Sally, or Frank or little Jessica, ‘cause if you happen to say something that Sam took wrong, you’d be lookin’ ‘round for your teeth for the next 3 days. Not a man normally prone to violence Sam was definitely beholding to the old adage that blood was thicker than water. So it was best you be mighty agreeable where Sam’s family was concerned. And never, never, ever mention anything about Johnny.
Johnny was Sam’s son, he had died when he was 19. Johnny was coming home one night from a concert at the college when a 51 year old drunk named Willie Myers crossed the center line and caused a head on collision. Johnny’s little Mustang was no match for ol’ drunk Willie’s pick up truck. Johnny died at the scene while para-medics feverishly tried to pull his spirit back from the great beyond. Willie walked away without a scratch right into the arms of Sheriff McDougal. Judge Lorraine gave Willie five to ten years. Sam lost some faith in the Criminal Justice system that day. Five to ten years, that was all his boy’s life was worth. That was also the day Sam decided that he had drank his last bottle of beer. Sam was never one to over-indulge any way, but he did enjoy a beer from time to time.
But the bottom line was that when Frank asked Sam for Sally’s hand in marriage six years ago, he was happy to give those kids his blessing - and he hadn’t been wrong about Frank. Fine husband, great daddy to little Jessica, and a good provider, and he had that look. Sam saw that look in Frank’s eyes every time he saw Frank look at Sally. What was it Dionne Warwick called it? "The Look of Love." Yeah that’s it, the look of love! Sam knew that look well, because it reminded him of the way he always looked at Mary. It was a look of admiration, of love, of quiet tender passion, of amazement that he had been so lucky to find her.
"Daddy? Dad!" "Oh, what sweetheart." "Are you listening to Frank or not?" "Oh sorry honey I was sort of day dreamin’ there."
"OK Sam, like I was about to say, Sally and I want you to come live with us. It would be great. We don’t want you in this big house all alone, and Jessica would love to have Grandpa around all the time. And Sam, well hell, you know how I feel about you, your like a second father to me. I’ll listen to Limbaugh on the radio during work at the law firm and you listen to him at home, and during dinner every night we can both piss and moan about what a liberal pussy he’s becoming!" Frank and Sam both laughed out loud.
About the only thing Sam and Frank ever argued about was which one of them was more conservative. They’d take sides on an issue and Frank would taunt Sam, "Chrissake Sam if I didn’t know better I’d think you were gettin’ all soft and gooey on the inside from old age. You’re starting to sound suspiciously like some damn liberal commie left wing save the spotted owl greenie conservationist." "WHAT? Why you little sack of shit, I was a conservative before you were even a twinkle in your papa’s eye. You call yourself a conservative? A lawyer whose a conservative, what a crock of cat puke, ain’t that a little like being a Catholic Rabbi?"
They’d carry on that kind of friendly banter for hours. It was all in good fun and Sally knew that Sam and Frank had a special friendship, love, and respect for each other. Heck, they even went hunting, and fishing together. Sam had even taken Frank to his special mountain prospecting hideout on several occasions to do a little metal detecting and sluicing. Frank loved the great outdoors, but being a new partner at the Law Firm made even greater demands on his time as of late. Unfortunately the outings with Sam had become fewer and farther in between.
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