THANKSGIVING HOLIDAY

Thanksgiving

Holiday!

A Short Fiction

Around Thanksgiving

By

David A. Archer

02/15/1968

11/08/2006

It felt like the car just went on autopilot as I drifted off in my head.

I could have sworn I heard the banjo's somewhere in the background as I began to envision the large table - never used with all of the enlargement leafs any other time of the year - nearly buckling under the girth of inhuman amounts of food.

The smells in my memory began to take the place of the fading motion through the windshield as the car kept motoring along seeming just as anxious as I was finding myself at arriving.

It seemed like it could have been a year ago, even though I had only just been home before the fall semester began... it was the holiday. The association with the holiday that seemed to make the short months since I was there seem so long ago.

I could see the later parts of the evening in my head as I drove along. The smaller children all demanding attention until they fell over dead asleep only to be woken again in time to eat.... and complain of course through having been woken up.

Then of course the dog would get scolded if not kicked at several times for trying to climb into a chair to "get a better vantage point" on the goods so greedily kept from reach on top of such a useless things as must be a table from his perspective.

I personally would be drunk before the evening was over.... and passed out in a chair if I could manage to hold my position on one. Of course, if I played it right with the kids, I could dupe someone into running to the cooler or fridge for more beers so as not to risk my seat.

I knew the smells would waft as I approached the door. I knew the dog would do everything it could to get the most of my attention as soon as possible. Odd how they are like that. Those first few minutes are through the roof with excitement... then moments later you have to push them out of the way to sit down... like nothing had changed since the first time they found such a wonderful spot to get a nap.

Of course this then again changes when the suggestion of food enters the possibilities. Suddenly they are all alive and excited again and usually picking on the smallest kid, somehow knowing of the better chance in leveraging some snack from their hand with either persuasion or the happenstance "bump" which allows for gravity to take effect on the desired morsel.

Yeah, the dog would be there unless someone managed to kill it since late August. Funny that it was all one sided when I left back then... with the dog that is. Like they don't know parting, but only the unexplained excitement in realizing arrival.

Maybe we could get lucky again this year and it would sneak out for an adventure on its own in the confusion of all of the motion around the house? There is nothing like an impromptu "man hunt" for a dog at the vehement request of some frightened child concerned for its well being.... usually just before the meal.

There always has to be drama of some sort at these functions. The odd progression of it is in watching the uncomfortable grasping in transition to provide it as the older drunks get too old to play their part any more and the younger ones are still too concerned with looking like they are doing alright on their own.

Maybe I could open a business that provided a "holiday drunk sure to please" sort of deal. A consistent "rent it" drama provider. Nothing too extreme of course. Just enough to provide that all important area of distraction in useless concern..... that competition for attentions and chest puffing in their response.

I figured on some price ranges as I began to slip back into the reality of the stop sign sliding past just at the corner of my block, in time to give me a little thrill as I again played over all of the activity that would happen in the coming moments. Especially those reactions to the stories I would have to tell, including the one about the traffic cop with nothing better to do on the holiday than wait this close to my house to write me a ticket for running a stop sign.

"If I could still see him just after dinner, I might even bring him out a plate" I thought as I noticed his exit from the cruiser in my mirror.

As long as he said "happy holidays" I thought to myself again as the window came down... "good holiday" would be good enough I then reasoned as I again started my vehicle to continue the few feet to the driveway.

Yeah, "good holiday" was good enough I suppose, as long as he helped us find the dog.