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The True Gift: A Christmas Story, Page 2

Patricia MacLachlan


  We are mostly silent as we walk down the road, down the hill, past several houses that are scattered along the way, past a field bordered by red barberry bushes.

  “I was right,” I say softly. “Nothing is the same now.”

  Liam doesn’t answer me.

  “Nothing.”

  Liam still doesn’t speak.

  “How did you know I was scared of White Cow?” I ask finally.

  I turn to look at him.

  “I just knew. You don’t know her the way I do,” he says.

  We walk quietly. The fields are snow coated; the only green, the spruces and white pines in the fields. The sky is gray.

  “We have to buy a cow,” says Liam as we come to the center of town.

  I stop walking, but Liam walks on.

  “You can’t do that! You’re just a kid.”

  A girl on a horse comes up the hill, the horse peering closely at me, its hooves quiet on the snow-covered road.

  I run to catch up with Liam. We walk together, not speaking.

  I take a breath and know that I’ll be sorry that I ask the question I’m going to ask.

  “How can we buy a cow?”

  Liam turns and grins brightly at me. “I don’t know,” he says. “But we will.”

  Chapter Five

  Lisa, the librarian, is happy to see us at the lilac library.

  “Two whole weeks of nonstop reading, right?” she says. “I wish everyone read the way you two do.”

  Liam disappears in the stacks, and I look at the shelves of books; books and books and books. Liam comes back with a nonfiction book with the title The Emotional Life of Cows and checks it out.

  We mail Gran’s letters at the post office.

  “Wait,” says Liam, stopping. He studies the notices on the bulletin board:

  LOST CAT: Name is Thug.

  Not lovable. Reward.

  …

  WANTED: Exotic chickens

  for breeding.

  …

  WANTED: A quiet room by the

  river for one person and the most

  intelligent dog in the world.

  Liam looks at the notices for so long, I finally tug at his coat.

  “Wait,” says Liam again. “I’m having a thought. Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.”

  I go outside and walk to the market. Liam comes up from behind me with a look.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Just thinking.”

  The market has newly polished wood floors, and we wander down the aisles until we find butter for Gran.

  Next door there is a new small store called Already Read Books. A sign on the door says SECONDHAND BOOKS BOUGHT AND SOLD. Liam puts his face close to the window and peers in because it is closed.

  “Books,” he says happily.

  We go to the general store. It is filled with dishes and jewelry and toys and penny candy and kitchen gadgets and cakes and pies and muffins. Blown-glass Christmas balls hang from the ceiling; angels and stars for the top of the tree sit on shelves.

  “Look,” I tell Liam. “A new coffee cup for Gran.”

  I hold up a white mug with a great blue heron painted on.

  Liam shakes his head. “Wait,” says Liam. “Don’t buy it yet.”

  “Wait for what?”

  Liam doesn’t answer.

  I put the mug back and stare at Liam.

  “We’re going to have Christmas whether you want it or not, you know.”

  I walk out of the store and past the post office and past the small coffee shop. Past the Already Read store. I turn up the road to Gran’s. I am close to tears for the second time today. I wish Liam would not think so much. I wish White Cow could go away and not come back so I wouldn’t have to think about her.

  There is the sound of pounding feet behind me.

  “Hey,” says Liam, panting from running.

  “I don’t like you,” I say, bursting into tears at last.

  “I know. I don’t like me either,” says Liam.

  I stare at Liam and I can’t help it. I start laughing and crying at the same time.

  “I’m just a kid, Lily,” says Liam. “You said so yourself.”

  We walk on.

  “Cows cost a lot,” says Liam. “Five hundred dollars sometimes.”

  “We can’t afford that,” I say.

  “Maybe a young cow,” Liam says.

  “Called a calf,” I say, starting to laugh again.

  Liam laughs too. And for a while it is the way it used to be. The way all other Christmases at Gran and Grandpa’s house have been.

  Liam scoops up snow and tries to stuff it down my neck. Ice on the trees sparkles in the sunlight. We pick some red barberry branches for Gran.

  But when we get home, White Cow is still there, standing by the fence, watching us with those eyes.

  It is not the way it used to be.

  Chapter Six

  All through dinner there is no talk of White Cow. There is talk of Christmas and the town and books.

  “Do you want to make Christmas cookies tomorrow, Lily?” asks Gran.

  “Sure,” I say.

  Charlie sits by Grandpa’s feet, watching the floor intently, waiting for Grandpa to drop food. Emmet sleeps by the fireplace, almost in the fireplace.

  Liam gets up and carries his plate to the kitchen and comes back for the other plates.

  “Do you have a copy machine?” he asks Grandpa.

  “Nope. Sorry,” says Grandpa.

  “I’ll keep thinking,” he says in a soft voice.

  “Don’t think,” I tell him just as softly.

  Liam smiles.

  That night we sleep with the curtains open so we can look out and see the stars across the sky. I wake in the night once and can see light under the door of Liam’s room. I sigh and turn over and count the stars until I fall back to sleep.

  “Where is Liam?” I ask at breakfast the next morning.

  Grandpa laughs. “You’re always asking that, Lambie. He went off early. He seems to have plans.”

  I pour a glass of juice. “Yes. Liam always has plans,” I say.

  Gran and I make cookies all morning: Christmas trees with silver ball decorations; snowmen with red cinnamon buttons; star cookies and moon cookies; and little house cookies with frosted doors and windows.

  “This is nice, Gran. Like it always is.”

  “It is, Lily. Maybe you and Liam can come this summer and help cut the hayfield and plant gardens.”

  I smile at Gran. That would be good. But there is something about Christmas here.

  “There is,” says Gran. And I realize that I have said my thoughts out loud.

  Gran puts the cookies on a big platter. “Beautiful,” she says.

  “I’m going to look for Liam,” I tell Gran.

  “There are more letters to mail on the table, Lily.”

  I put on my boots and coat and walk out to the driveway.

  White Cow is standing by the gate, an empty black bucket at her feet. I walk over to her.

  “Did Liam give you grain?” I ask. “Sure he did,” I whisper. I smile at myself, talking to a cow.

  After a moment I reach out and touch White Cow’s neck. She stares at me as if she knows me.

  “I’ll be back,” I tell her.

  And then what I say to White Cow surprises me.

  “Don’t worry,” I whisper. “We’ll take care of you.”

  And I walk off down the driveway and down the road, past houses and fields and the stream I hear flowing. When I come into the center of town, I go to the post office to mail Gran’s letters.

  And there, on the bulletin board, I see the first notice. I know what Liam has been doing.

  WANTED: A cow friend for a

  lonely, sad cow. It is Christmas and

  she needs a friend. Think how you’d

  feel. I’m buying. Call Liam.

  He has written Gran and Grandpa’s telephone number at the bottom.

  I loo
k at the notice for a long time, then drop Gran’s letters in the mail slot.

  I walk across the street looking for Liam.

  There, nailed to the telephone pole by the lilac library, is another notice.

  ONCE UPON A TIME

  THERE WAS A WHITE COW,

  ALL ALONE, AT CHRISTMAS.

  SHE WAS SAD AND LONELY.

  SHE LIVES ON SOUTH STREET.

  IF YOU HAVE A COW FRIEND

  FOR HER, PLEASE CALL LIAM.

  I smile a little and walk across the street.

  In the market window is another notice.

  I feel like I am following Liam by his notices, like following his footprints in the snow.

  HELP WHITE COW.

  SELL ME A FRIEND FOR

  HER FOR CHRISTMAS.

  CALL LIAM.

  YOUR CHRISTMAS WILL

  BE HAPPIER, TOO.

  I find Liam, tacking up a notice on the notice board at the general store. This notice has a drawing of a white cow with a tear in her eye.

  “You’ve been busy,” I say.

  Liam nods.

  I take a deep breath. “I can’t believe that I’m going to say this, Liam. I’m proud of you.”

  Liam smiles.

  “Let’s go home,” he says wearily.

  He takes my hand and we walk around the corner and start up the hill that begins South Street. Little flakes of snow begin to fall. Before long there is steady snow. I look up and watch the snow come down.

  “Liam?”

  “What?”

  “I talked to White Cow this morning.”

  Liam doesn’t speak for a moment. And when he does, what he says makes me smile.

  “You’re turning into me,” he says.

  We walk all the way home and the snow grows heavier. And when we walk up the driveway to Gran and Grandpa’s house, past the barn, past White Cow, Gran comes to the door and tells us there has been a telephone call for Liam.

  Chapter Seven

  Snow is still falling when we leave. Gran looks at us, knowing that we’re not telling her things.

  “Something’s going on, right?” she says.

  “Right,” Liam and I answer at the same time.

  “Well, I’m not asking you about it right now,” she says. “Right now,” she repeats.

  Liam grins at her and pulls me out the front door.

  The sky has darkened and the world is full of snow.

  “Who is it?” I ask.

  “Thomas says his father is selling their calf. He said he’d tell me about it when I get there.”

  The snow is so heavy that we almost miss the West Street turn. We walk fast, and then ahead, in the dense falling snow, is a boy.

  “Thomas?” calls Liam.

  Thomas turns. “Yes.”

  Several cows are in the meadow. One small brown calf stands by the fence.

  “I’m Liam. This is Lily.”

  Thomas takes a folded paper out of his pocket. It is one of Liam’s notices.

  “Did you write this?” asks Thomas.

  “I did. We’re looking for a cow.”

  Thomas looks at the brown calf.

  “Is that yours?” asks Liam.

  “Yes, but you’re too late. My father says she’s sold.”

  “Sold? To live where?” asks Liam.

  “For the market,” says Thomas softly. “For meat.”

  “For meat!” says Liam.

  There is a moment of silence, no sounds at all, like when the wind suddenly stops blowing.

  “For meat?” repeats Liam, trying to understand.

  Thomas nods. “Papa says we need the money.”

  “Liam, the calf is sold,” I say. I shiver in the cold. “I’m going home. I’m freezing.”

  “Wait a minute, Lily,” says Liam. “Thomas, how much is your Papa selling the calf for?”

  Thomas shrugs. “A couple hundred dollars, I think. For Christmas money,” he adds.

  “Two hundred,” says Liam. He takes Thomas’s arm.

  “Listen, Thomas. I’m going to save your calf. What’s her name?”

  Thomas shrugs again. “She doesn’t have a name. We call her—”

  “Brown Cow,” finishes Liam happily.

  Thomas looks surprised. “Yes. How did you know that?”

  I know what Liam is thinking. I start walking away. I walk on until suddenly Liam is beside me.

  “Don’t talk,” I say, loving and hating him at the same time.

  Well, “hate” is a strong word. So is “love.”

  One good thing, though: He doesn’t speak all the way home through the falling snow.

  Chapter Eight

  Liam and I sit in his room, going through our money.

  Charlie and Emmet sit on the bed, watching the counting closely, as if the money will turn into food. When it stays money, Charlie gets bored and turns over on his back, with his feet in the air. Emmet leans over to chew Charlie’s chin.

  Liam empties his sock. He has $67.50. I have $76.00.

  “That comes to . . .” I begin.

  “One forty-three fifty” says Liam, who is quick with numbers. “That isn’t enough.”

  “Maybe we could ask Mama and Papa, or Gran and Grandpa.”

  Liam shakes his head. “No. I want to do this.”

  “You are stubborn.”

  “Yes.”

  Liam goes to the window. “Maybe we could get jobs,” he says.

  “What kind of jobs?” I ask. “We only have a few days left. And we don’t know when the calf will be sold.”

  “Brown Cow,” corrects Liam.

  “Brown Cow,” I repeat. I would smile, but I do not feel happy.

  Liam paces the room, thinking Liam thoughts.

  “Maybe . . .,” I begin.

  “Wait!” says Liam loudly.

  I jump. Charlie and Emmet sit up.

  Liam grabs one of his book bags and begins packing his books.

  “Get that bag, Lily. Start packing.”

  “But, Liam—”

  “Pack!” says Liam loudly.

  I’ve never heard him speak loudly before.

  I pack.

  “What are we doing?” I ask.

  “The Already Read secondhand bookstore in town,” says Liam, as if I should know what he’s about to do.

  “What about it?”

  Liam packs the last book.

  “I’m going to sell my books,” he says.

  My mouth opens.

  Liam holds up his hand.

  “Let’s go. Can you carry that bag?”

  I lift a bag with a dozen books in it.

  “I can.”

  Liam leaves the room with his bags of books. He doesn’t look back at me. Charlie and Emmet jump down from the bed and follow. They don’t look back at me either.

  * * *

  “Where are you going?” calls Gran.

  Liam and I walk out on the porch lugging our load of books.

  “We have an errand in town,” calls Liam. “We’ll be home before dinner.”

  “I’m going to drive you,” calls Gran. “There’s too much snow.” She puts on her jacket and comes out with Charlie and Emmet. We all climb in the car.

  “Don’t worry,” Gran says to Liam, “I won’t ask what you’re doing.”

  Liam and I smile.

  We see White Cow outside the barn, turning her big white head to watch us drive by.

  “Liam, these are your books. You love these books,” I whisper to him.

  “If I can get a couple of dollars a book, we’ll get Brown Cow and still have some money left over for Christmas,” he whispers back.

  “I don’t even care about Christmas presents anymore,” I say out loud, surprising myself.

  “Me neither,” says Liam, grinning.

  “Me neither,” says Gran in the front seat, making us laugh because we have forgotten she was there.

  We park in front of the Already Read bookstore.

  “Stay here,” says L
iam.

  He takes the bags and leaves us in the car. There is silence. Charlie and Emmet climb into the front seat with Gran.

  “All right,” says Gran. “You are my captive, Lily.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t ask,” I remind her.

  “I don’t always tell the truth,” says Gran, making me laugh.

  So I tell her.

  Gran is very quiet.

  “All for a cow,” she says softly.

  “For all of us,” I tell her.

  “Yes,” says Gran. “That’s true.”

  “Don’t tell Liam I told you,” I say.

  “I promise,” says Gran.

  We both laugh because Gran has already said she doesn’t always tell the truth.

  We wait. A yellow Lab walks by and Charlie and Emmet howl.

  We wait longer.

  And then Liam comes out. He is carrying two empty bags and one with some books in it. He gets into the car.

  “Okay” he says, smiling.

  “Do we go to Thomas’s house?” asks Gran.

  Liam looks at Gran and then at me. “You told her,” he says.

  “She made me,” I say.

  “Yes,” says Liam. “Let’s go get Brown Cow.”

  Chapter Nine

  Gran drives to West Road faster than she usually drives. Liam laughs in the backseat, the first time he’s laughed like that in a long time.

  Gran turns at West Road and stops at Thomas’s house. A covered truck is parked there with nothing written on the side.

  Thomas is outside, and his father, and a man who holds a rope with Brown Cow at the other end. Liam gets out of the car before Gran stops.

  Thomas has been crying. His younger brothers are huddled behind him.

  “You’re too late, Liam,” Thomas says. “Too late. Papa sold her.”

  “I’m sorry, Liam,” says Thomas’s father. “But she is sold now.”

  “But I’ll pay you more money!” says Liam.

  “Too late,” says the man with the rope. He pulls on the rope, but Brown Cow digs her feet in. “Come on,” he says crossly. “Come on!” He slaps Brown Cow on the backside, but Brown Cow backs up farther and makes a sad moo. The man reaches inside his truck and takes out a long prod.