Christmas at McDonalds

The day started out the way most of the days in the life of the Scoggins family did in those times of their lives that was the 1960s. It was December, the sun broke through a grouping of gray, listless clouds, and shown on the half closed curtains that hung with no particular purpose on the dingy windows of their house.

Inside Guy and Fay Scoggins lay in their double bed, each snoring, though Fay’s snoring was softer. Guy Jr, six, and Faylena eight, each in their own tiny bedroom, lay in their twin beds in children’s slumber.

Christmas in the mountains of Western North Carolina was a wonderful thing. Snow came softy and gently, sneaking in during late evenings, covering the last vestiges of grasses and weeds that hung on to some eternal hope that Spring would precede Winter. And this year near the highland town of Scots Hope, a McDonalds had opened. The towns people celebrated at the opening ceremony, not for the cheap burgers, or the handful of jobs that it created, but for the utter novelty of a drive through window.

For some, the real draw was a clown called Ronald McDonald.

In that small six room block house that sat at the tip end of a long winding dirt road, the idea of Christmas at McDonalds for the Scoggins had taken hold due to some strange and unforeseen events.

Guy Jr had been thinking about the clown ever since that opening day, six months earlier, when his eyes were filled from corner to corner with an image like nothing he had ever seen before. It had an enormous head of wild orange hair, a bulbous red nose and bigger feet than old man Foster; bigger feet than anyone in the whole of the world, Guy Jr was pretty sure.

The Scots Hope Elementary School, the only school in the town of nine hundred people, had planned a bus trip to the new McDonalds on the last day of school before Christmas break, when the big clown was supposed to make another appearance and “hand out special treats to all children twelve and under". Guy Jr. and Faylena had each dressed quickly that morning and ran down the dirt road to wait for the school bus.

Two things had gone wrong that day: A rogue snow storm hit the mountains of North Carolina the night before, leaving six inches of snow and hundreds of motorists stranded on the highways. The bus never came by.

Disappointed and worried, Guy Jr. and Faylena had drudged back up to the house where their mom was watching them through a rubbed out spot in the window. She had known that there would be no bus that morning, but the children would not be made to believe it. So she had seen that they bundled up good, and set them off to face a cold disappointment.

Near tears, Guy Jr., walked past his mother and went straight to the back porch and sat down next to Ol’ Nothing, their part beagle, part hound, a lot of nothing, dog.
He was still sitting there when his Daddy came up the road after working third shift at the mill.

The old Chevy truck was threatening to take control from Guy and plunge him over the side of the snow covered dirt road and into the gulley. It did just that five yards from the house.

“Lord a mercy, Guy!” Fay cried as she ran out into the cold and snow in her socked feet. “Why didn’t you park down at the end of the drive?”

“Whoo weee! Wouldn’t that something?" Guy shouted as he climbed from the cab of the truck. “Woman you gone crazy? You ain’t got one shoe on!” Guy swooped Fay up off the ground and twirled her around in the winter air.

“You could've been hurt, Guy,” Fay protested through her laughter.

“Now, me and that ol truck’s been through lots worse than this.” With that he threw Fay over his shoulders and carried her into the warm house.

He deposited her in front of the screen -less fireplace, where a merry fire danced over logs and bits of trash.

Faylena stopped chasing the bits of fleeing embers back into the fireplace, dropped the broom and jumped into her daddy’s arms. “Hey there, darling! Hmmm, something sure smells good!.” He sat her down, “I’m thinking that’s your momma’s coffee.”

As Fay handed him a cup of coffee she nodded toward the back door. Guy took three steps and peered out the window, where he saw two pitiful figures. While that wasn’t unusual for Ol Nothing, it was a bit odd for Guy Jr. to look so forlorn.

“He’s been there since he found out that the school bus wouldn’t be picking him and Faylena up this morning. Had his heart set on seeing that McDonalds’ clown. My daddy always said you can’t be too young to learn to handle disappointment; but I wonder.”

Guy placed his cup in the sink, gave Fay a peck on the cheek and stepped out onto the back porch.

Neither dog nor child looked up.

“Guess that ol rickety school bus couldn’t make it around today.” Guy said to whichever creature might listen.

“They could've sent the one that takes the big kids over to Morganton to school. It ain’t so rickety.” Guy Jr said without moving so much as a facial muscle, which had all fallen into his cupped hands.

“Doubt that one made it today either. In fact, I doubt that ol Ronald McDonald’ll make it today.”

This brought Guy Jr.’s head up and around to face his daddy. “You think he’ll come another day then?”

“Hard to say for sure. Listen, son, I think there’s something you ought to know about disappointment.”

“I know, Daddy, ‘life is full of it’. Granddaddy says that all the time.”

“Way I see it is it’s a matter of belief. And me, I don’t believe in it.” Guy said looking out over snow topped pine trees.

Ol Nothing scooted in closer to Guy Jr, and resumed whatever dream dogs have, which Guy Jr. always wondered about, but was usually content to know that the dog was still breathing.

“You see that ol dog you’re so fond of? Well, when he first come hanging around here, right before you was born, I was thinking; man, there’s me a good ol hunting dog for sure, and it ain’t cost me a dime. Then the first day I lit out over the fields with him, just dreaming about all the rabbits I was going to bring home; the only thing he hunted was the path back to the house.”
He reached down and gave Ol’ Nothing a scratch behind the ear, which the dog ignored.

“I was pretty sore the whole way back, following that ol dog, telling him what I thought of his momma, and reminding him that he was just good for nothing. Told him he could just go on down the road and find another house to live at. In fact I recommended one for him.”

“But as soon as we rounded that far patch of pines there, I heard your momma a hollering. Poor Faylena, who wouldn’t but a little twig of two, was bawling and scared to death. Scares me to this day when I think about what could’ve happened. See, you decided you was ready to come on and meet your family the very day I had planned on doing some rabbit hunting.”

The boy turned to sit full facing his Daddy now, causing the dog to grunt in annoyance.

“Well, your momma was mighty brave, but after you was born Ol Doc Jones said she wouldn’t be having no more babies. I could see the disappointment in her eyes. Truth is, we both was. But I was more worried about missing time from work, what with your momma needing help till she recovered. Your grandmas and aunts couldn’t afford to lose too much time from the mill either. Then Jimmy Sloan told me he would switch shifts with me, take my spot on first, and I could take his on third. I sure hated to give up my spot on first. As it turned out, you was a right healthy baby and took off growing like no body’s business. And Faylena took to playing with Ol Nothing like he was her toy; kept her happy and out of the way. I tell you it was something to see that ol dog lay there and take such as that. And me, well, I took to the third like I never dreamed I could.”

Fay opened the door and handed Guy a fresh cup of hot coffee, and closed it as she stepped back into the kitchen.

“Your momma was coming along real good too. She loved rocking you children when you was babies, even tho all the women folk told her she’d spoil y’all doing so. But she wouldn’t having no more, so she rocked you for the first two years of your life. I told her, the Lord done give us one of each, and perfect as they can be, I’d be plum scared to have another one anyway. No telling what we might get. I heard tell of one family had six kids, three of each, and then went and had a seventh one that looked just like a donkey!”

Guy sipped his coffee more to keep his grin from showing than to feel the warmth it brought.

The boy’s eyes were shocked wide open, but the dog snored on.

Guy continued, “One day, on my home from work, I seen a man stranded on the side of the road. He had him one of them big ol flat bed trucks and it was loaded down with concrete blocks. I pulled over to see if I could help and he says to me, ‘Friend, if you can help me get this load over to Morganton, I’ll put you gas in and pay you fair for your labor.’ I was thinking what luck for me. The mill ain’t offering no overtime, and I sure could use some extra money to get your momma’s hospital bill paid."

"Took the two of us most all day to get them blocks loaded from his truck to mine and I lost count of how many trips it took. On the last trip, we hadn’t got half of ‘em, when the man in Morganton said he didn’t need no more, that he had ordered another flat bed truck full of them yesterday, and it was pulling in now. Said we was four days late anyway. Seems this guy’s truck had been breaking down regularly for a week. We got paid for the blocks we’d unloaded, but I knew it wouldn’t gone be near enough.”

“I was more than disappointed, I can tell you straight out. That ol boy put me in one more tank of gas, and said all he could give me was the blocks he had left as the rest of my pay. A few days later he pulled up and dumped them blocks right over yonder.” Guy nodded toward a clearing.

The boys eyes followed his daddy’s nod and then came back to the view of their block house.

“That’s right,” Guy said. “With the help of your Granddad Bill, and your Uncles Joe, Don and Leon, I built this house with those very blocks. Got us out of that three room shack and kept us from giving up and moving into one them four room mill houses over in Morganton. You know a block house keeps the heat in real good, and it’s pretty cool in the summers.”

“Lots of folks had moved on to the mill town to be close to work, into them little plank houses that the mill owners had put up. But I just couldn’t see them paying me outta one hand, and me handing it back to ’em in the other. I’ll tell you another thing; helping that ol boy out gave me the idea I could pick up odd jobs during the day and come out better than working more shifts at that mill. Traded lots of work, too, for things we needed for the house and such. Sometimes I think whoever invented money did us no favor. And, your momma ain’t never had to step one foot into that cotton mill. See, you never know about how things might be stacking up to happen.”

“Now come on let’s go get some pine cuttings. Your momma won’t be talked out of dressing the mantle with them. Another thing you can say about a block house; it’s harder to burn one down.”

So they walked out into the snow covered yard, leaving Guy’s words hanging in the cold air, somewhere over the dogs head, for the boy’s head was already filling with ideas about how to get to the McDonalds when the clown showed up.

That night the fire burned sleepily in the fireplace, with Ol Nothing laid out in front of the hearth. His massive body keeping drifting embers from going any further than his back. Hardly a word was ever said about the singed spots in his fur.

Guy Jr worried through sleep and play everyday that the big clown would show up at McDonalds and he would not be there to see him. His Daddy had said that the clown was supposed to be there Christmas Eve, and probably they would go see him on the way to church.

For the next few mornings, while watching for their daddy’s truck to come chugging up the drive, the children ran wildly through the snow covered fields; Ol Nothing kept vigil from the front porch, except one morning when he lumbered off through the fields and didn’t come back.

Then it was Christmas Eve.

Two amazing things happened that day. Another blizzard hit Western NC, dumping four inches of snow on top of what was still on the ground. And Ol Nothing showed up with a puppy trailing behind him.

“It looks like we won’t be making it into town for church,” Guy remarked to Fay, but eyeing his son. “Probably be days before we can get out this time.”

“I was looking forward to hearing the Christmas songs, “ she replied.

“Is that Ol Nothing coming yonder?” Faylena yelled, rubbing at the window to see better.

They let the dog into the warm house, and the sight of that pup filled Faylena and Guy Jr. with so much excitement that they were unable to stop their legs from taking them jumping all over the room.

‘Well, look at that.” Guy said. “It’s just as well we couldn’t make it off this mountain, this lil pup can’t be but about nine weeks old. It surely would have froze to death outside tonight.”

Back near Scots Hope, the big clown did indeed show up, a little too much in his spirits, scaring most of the children to screaming fits, and somehow nearly burning McDonalds to the ground, leaving Guy to wonder later why they didn’t build with concrete blocks.

In his bed, burrowed under piles of blankets and one small puppy, Guy Jr smiled through dreams; all disappointment lay frozen on the ground outside. His daddy’s words from five days earlier had found their way back to him, and the idea that things were a matter of belief and faith begin to take hold.

And while no chorus of Hark The Herald Angels Sing would be heard that night,
the heartbeats from those in that little block house filled the Heavens with resounding joy.

In just a few months, right as Spring was arriving as promised, Ol Nothing wandered off through the fields for the last time.

Pamela H Gurule Ó December 18th, 2010.