Day of Turkey Death
Puck’s first Thanksgiving.
It began with jumbo cinnamon rolls at the Silverspoon’s before a ride in the red van to Christ Presbyterian for a morning service. Puck was cozily bundled in his car seat with his coat covering him. He looked back and forth between OLeif and Collette, who sat on either side of him, and smiled at them both happily, drowsily, through his wow. It wasn’t long before his baby eyes closed for a catnap.
By early afternoon, they were over at the house in time for Collette to mix the potato casserole which Joe placed covered in pans in the minivan to keep cold until time for baking. This happened around the usual buzz of activity. Rose brought out her paper place mat from the Thanksgiving dinner at church.
“Look!” She smacked the place mat on the counter. “This is my reinterpretation of the first Thanksgiving.”
Penned stick figures – a Rose speciality – which depicted the Indians welcoming the landing of English settlers. Indians preparing sabotage on arriving settlers including misleading “Welcome” signs held by Indians holding knives behind their backs. The Indian crawling through the underground tunnel out into the ocean under the settlers’ ship carrying a bomb, iced the cake. Rose took a seat at the counter and sighed.
“Thanksgiving is dangerous because all the turkeys are running around everywhere.”
Joe gave her the typical Rose-is-nuts look.
“Frances, put that back,” Rose demanded.
“What? Oh, this!” Frances realized that he was carrying around an oven rack on his shoulder.
“Rose, why are the fingernails blue, only on your left hand?” Collette asked.
“I can’t draw with my left hand.”
“Draw?”
“I used a Sharpie. Man, I pulled out a thing of whipped cream from the freezer yesterday that expired in 2004.”
Everyone else was gathered around the ham bone on the stove like vultures waiting for the kill. They took turns carving off pieces until there was nothing left but the actual bone.
“You guys are going to have to mail Snuggles to my apartment when I move to college,” said Rose. “He’s my best friend. I can’t live without him.”
By three o’clock, a full house had arrived. Dad returned from picking up Grandma Snicketts. There was Grandma Combs, Uncle Mo and Aunt Petunia, Lucia, and Linus. Aunt Petunia’s sister, Aunt Day, and her new Greek/Australian husband, Bobs. Aunt Day’s son, Lokni, and his son, Bion, were also there.
Puck had been passed around to everyone, giggling and rolling around as usual.
“Ai, he’s a big one,” said Ronny. “He’d be on the scrum back from where I come.”
Collette was pretty sure that was what he had said. Scrum was a reference to a position in rugby, from what she understood.
“Aw, he’s so cute!” Lucia exclaimed.
Before long, the usual spread was set out on the counter: a crock pot each of turkey and ham, hot potato casserole and macaroni and cheese, rolls, vegetables, and Jello salad. This was followed with hot chocolate, pies, the pumpkin roll, etc. For not being big into food, Collette still enjoyed the meal while Dad held the bouncing Puck.
The evening ended full and satisfied.