A Christmas Blizzard by Garrison Keillor Read Free Book Online

been happy!
    Somewhere down the hall he heard the song—
     
    Do you hear what I hear?
A song, a song, very unappealing,
Leaking like asbestos from the ceiling.
     
     
    And then someone switched it off.
    He wanted to tell her, This pump handle obsession has got me by the throat, babes. I am dying inside. I’d be sunk without you. Whether I were in Chicago or Kuhikuhikapapa’u’maumau. But he was afraid of losing her. If she knew how bunged-up he was and crippled by dread and shame, maybe she’d decide he wasn’t worth sticking around for. Dump him and get a nice divorce settlement and be a matron of the arts.

8. A phone call from the past
     
     
    H is phone rang. It was his cousin Liz in Looseleaf.
    “Do you have a minute?” she said.
    “What is it?”
    “You’re in a rush. I can hear it. Listen, I’ll send you a text message.”
    “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
    “It’s nothing important so don’t get all het up.”
    “About what?”
    “Listen—Jimmy, I can tell I’ve upset you. I’ll call back when you settle down.”
    “What’s going on?”
    “So you didn’t hear about Daddy?”
    “What about Uncle Earl?”
    “I shouldn’t even say. He didn’t want you to know.”
    “Know what?”
    “It’s nothing. He’s old. Everything comes to an end. There are no guarantees. We’ll deal with it. You’ve got enough to worry about.”
    “Tell me what’s going on, Liz.”
    “I shouldn’t have said anything. He had to go into the hospital on Tuesday.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Daddy told me not to call you because he knew you’d be upset. I’m sorry I opened my big mouth.”
    James took the phone in his right hand and whacked the table with it four, five, six times, and then said, “Liz, if you don’t stop beating around the bush, I’m going to fly up there and give you a Dutch rub. Remember the Dutch rub, Liz? It stings. I can make you cry.”
    Mrs. Sparrow got up from the table and whispered, “I have to go throw up now.”
    “What’s wrong?” he said.
    “Are you sitting down?” said Liz.
    “It’s my stomach flu,” said Mrs. Sparrow.
    “I think you should consult a doctor,” he said.
    “He already did,” said Liz. “Three of them.”
    The thought of pump handles crossed his mind. Maybe Uncle Earl had wandered out in a daze and put his tongue on frozen iron and then yanked and the whole organ had been uprooted and he lay there bleeding, the snow around his head turning bright red, until a newsboy found him and now he was in a coma.
    “His left eyeball fell out,” said Liz.
    “His eyeball fell out????”
    Mrs. Sparrow put her hand to her mouth and gagged.
    “It was only the left one. He was watching the Lawrence Welk Christmas special on TV and Bobby and Betty did a beautiful tap dance to ‘O Holy Night’ and Daddy got weepy and rubbed his eye and it just fell out. It was hanging by the optic. He has skin cancer and it spread to his eyes. But they popped it right back in. He’s fine. No problem. He didn’t want me to call you and bother you.”
    “Oh my god.”
    “Anyway, could you call him and cheer him up a little? You know he thinks the sun rises and sets on you, and he still talks about the time you flew out here for his birthday—when was that? Ten years ago? Anyway, you mean the world to him, and frankly—I shouldn’t say this, but . . . I don’t know as he’ll make it to Christmas.” And then she broke down and cried and hung up. Not like Liz to fall apart like that, she being a member of the National Rifle Association and all.
    And he called Buzz at the plane and said, “I’ve gotta fly up to Looseleaf. It’s not far from Bismarck. They built that regional airport there.”
    He turned to Mrs. Sparrow. “My uncle Earl is dying. He has skin cancer and his left eyeball fell out. They think it’s in the last stage.”
    “The happy uncle? The one who always made you laugh when you were growing up?”
    “Yes. I’m flying up there today. I wish