STARDUST MEMORIES - A Christmas Story

Head down and walking briskly, Jack Vale counted the bills in his hand as he rounded a corner in the main hallway of the Stardust Hotel and Casino. So intent was he, that he flinched when he bumped solidly into Janice Marie, who had just pulled the plug on the flashing silver star above the neon sign that read “Stardust Liquors”, preparing to lock up for the night. Above the door, a tiny bell bedecked with a sprig of mistletoe to herald the season, jingled with the sudden jolt. “You’re in a hurry tonight, Jack,” Janice said, helping him gather his night’s tips from the worn carpet. The Stardust had seen its glory days, and now, like Jack, was struggling to survive. This made for perfect bedfellows, as the very competitive rates were some Jack could afford.

“Sorry Jan, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Jack said.  “Home by midnight, or owe my soul to the babysitter!”

Janice grinned, “How’s Rosie?” she asked, referring to Jack’s eight year old daughter.

“As well as can be expected. It’s two days ‘till Christmas and only two years since she lost her mother. It’s still hard.”

“I’m sure,” said Janice. “Hug her for me, will you? Oh! And give her this…” She fished a small gaily wrapped Christmas candy from her apron pocket. Jack nodded, pocketing the small gift, and continued on his way, appreciating the graciousness of the woman who had been a familiar and beloved face behind the counter of the little shop for over thirty years. He hadn’t been there that long, of course, but he had heard the stories of her kindness, and noticed repeat visitors to the city made special excursions back to visit her, regardless of where they were staying. Her stack of Christmas cards addressed to the hotel each year was staggering, and most from strangers who had crossed her path in some way or another, and wished to express their gratitude for her random acts of kindness over the many years.

Upstairs, Jack’s daughter Rosie was wide awake in anticipation of her father’s arrival. Guests of the Stardust since her father had lost their house to her mother’s medical bills, Rosie had only one wish for Christmas, and it all depended on the answer to the question she had posed to her father earlier today. Hearing him bid the babysitter good night, she could hardly contain herself until the bedroom door opened.

Without a word her father strode to the end of the bed, then slowly, brought a package out from behind his back. The bedside lamp caught the glint of tinsel through the cellophane. Rosie cried out, “Oh Daddy! You made enough money to get us a TREE!” she shouted, throwing her arms around his neck. “Can I get out the red box now?”  The nod of his head was enough to send his daughter scurrying to the closet, to return with a large red box secured with golden ribbon. Placing it on the bed, father and daughter took great care as they removed the beloved contents one by one.  Jack traced his memory back to the origin of this box which had been lovingly packed by wife and mother Amanda Vale, when she understood she would not make it to her daughters sixth Christmas. 

The first time they’d opened the box was two years ago on the first day of the last month of that tragic year. Amanda had begun by talking about traditions, and the real meaning of Christmas while reaching into the box and handing her daughter a small nativity scene with the baby Jesus, Joseph and Mary, the wise men, and real straw for the animals in the manger, explaining the ancient story of the family who could find no room at the inn.

Also contained in the box, were three hand-made Christmas stockings that Jack and Rosie now hung with care from the hotel window sill, agreeing that this would be Santa’s most efficient source of entry. A rosy-cheeked Santa statuette, complete with sleigh and eight tiny reindeer would now gallop across the wet-bar with a special saucer on which Rosie might place treats for Jolly old St. Nick on Christmas Eve.

Amanda amused herself by teaching Rosie and Jack to sing, “The Twelve Days of Christmas” collapsing into gales of laughter at their mixed-up attempts to sort out the verses.  “’BAH HUMBUG” Jake had snorted when both mother and daughter made fun of his futile attempts to sing the verses in order. He then had to explain about the story by Charles Dickens and the grouchy old man who first spoke those now famous words.

“What’s a partridge, mommy?” Rosie had asked. Her mother answered by un-wrapping a small green ornament in the shape of a bird. In fact, she had packed a special ornament for each of the twelve days leading up to Christmas, and as a family, they marveled at the delicate glass figures that represented each verse of the song, and promised to make a ‘tradition’ of hanging one ornament a day until Christmas arrived.

…But to Rosie, the most important item of all waited at the bottom, wrapped in gold tissue paper in its own special box. In this slender box lay a shiny silver star, which Rosie now carefully unwrapped, caressing it gently with her fingers. “This star,” Amanda had told her, holding it up to the light, “is for the very top of the tree. When I am an angel, I will take a vacation from heaven each and every Christmas and follow the light from this star to find you no matter where you are.  On Christmas morning, I will be sitting right on top of it, and even though you can’t see me… from there, I will watch over you as you walk forward into each and every new year.”

This year, Rosie knew her dad’s job was what they called “temporary” and there wasn’t much money, but now, with the promise of a tree, her rendezvous with her mother was assured. As she gently placed the star back in the box, her father promised to bring a tree home the very next night.

The next morning started as usual; the usual weather, the usual clang of slot machines coming from the casino, the usual bustle of incoming visitors to the lobby as Jack left for work, and the usual wave from Janice Marie as she set up shop for another busy day… but this wasn’t just any day. It was Christmas Eve, and Janice had just plugged in Stardust Liquor’s bright flashing silver star when the tiny bell tinkled and a man entered the store… a man who wished to speak to her in private.

“You probably know that since the owners of the hotel have recently passed away, the hotel has been on shaky ground,” he told her. “Now, their heirs have decided to close this shop and unload the hotel as quickly as possible. This will be your last day.” Janice stared at the stranger in disbelief.  She could collect her paycheck at the office at the end of the day, he told her, and since the contents of the shop would be disposed of, if she wanted anything, she should feel free to take it, for the children did not wish to wait for liquidation and would be taxed on whatever was left in the store.

Janice studied the man’s back as he marched out the door. Thirty years here, and this is how they let her go? On Christmas Eve? She knew the children, had watched them grow up. But they had sent a stranger with this news? No retirement, no severance pay, not even a thank you. The rest of her day slid past in a blur.

Upstairs in room 512, little Rosie tingled with excitement. She’d rushed home from school to do her homework and lay out the colorful Christmas ornaments so they would be ready when her father arrived with their new Christmas tree. She looked forward to the scent of pine, and the moment when she could place the shiny star on the top of the tree. Today Jack worked the mid-shift and would be home any minute.

With everything in place, an eager Rosie decided to wait for her father near the entrance to the hotel so they could walk the tree to their room together. At the last minute, she decided to take with her, the red box containing the silver star, just for safe keeping. Heading down the hall, she turned the corner just as Janice Marie surveyed the interior of Stardust Liquors for the last time. Half a lifetime behind the counter here left her with no desire to own any of the touristy knickknacks, but as she looked around, one item caught her eye. A fitting remembrance of the many lives and faces she’d come to know in her brightest years managing Stardust Liquors. She rummaged for a box, then removed the familiar item from its place and placed it into a bed of bubble-wrap for the journey home. With the box tucked under her arm, she walked out the door and turned to put the key in the lock for the last time.

As Janice turned the key in the door, Jack was wrestling a freshly cut Christmas tree down the carpeted hallway. Excited to meet her father, Rosie, approaching the hall from the west, began to skip. As she turned the corner, she spotted her dad and increased her speed. When she reached the middle of the hallway directly in front of Stardust Liquors, her foot caught in the frayed carpet and she stumbled, tumbling forward and losing her grip on the red box, sending it’s only remaining content, her mother’s silver star, into a collision course with the far wall. Righting herself, she looked at the shattered pieces, and before uttering one word, a torrent of tears began streaming down her cheeks. “Oh daddy…” she gasped, her eyes like misty moons.

 As the adults gathered the shards, Rosie sobbed out their significance to Janice while Jack promised to do his best to glue the star back together.  Finally shouldering the tree, he guided his un-consolable child up to their room.

Back in room 512, the tree stood forgotten as Jack tried everything he could think of to lift Rosie’s spirits after all his attempts at repairing the broken star had failed.  With Christmas just hours away, her mother lost to her, Jack held her in his arms as her grief took on a life of its own. There were no words left to say. All Rosie knew was that without the silver star, her mother would never find her way back to her. Her world had come to an end.

Suddenly there was a soft knock on the door.  “Now, who could that be?” muttered the desperate father as he rose from the bed. Opening the hotel room door, he looked right and left, but found no one there. Upon looking down, however, he found a cardboard box sitting at his feet.  Picking it up, he had barely turned around when Rosie tugged at his shirttail.  “What is it daddy?” she asked, her tear-stained face trying to peep over the top. He set it down and rummaged into its depths, fishing out the contents. Rosie let out a gasp, “Daddy, daddy, plug it in!” she cried, jumping up and down with excitement.  When Jack plugged the attached electrical cord into the outlet, the room came brilliantly to life, lighting up like a Las Vegas Marquee. “IT’S THE BRIGHTEST AND MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I’VE EVER SEEN!” Rosie cried, throwing her arms around her father’s leg. Can we put it on the tree, Daddy? Pleeease?”

With a prayer of gratitude, Jack fastened the brilliant light to the treetop. “Now I’ll never have to worry about mommy getting lost, ever again!” exclaimed Rosie, as she and her father took in the spectacle of dancing light before them. 

In the parking lot of the hotel, Janice Marie glanced backwards for one last Stardust memory, taking in the aged hotel from bottom to top, examining one by one the memories contained within. When her eyes finally found what they searched for, she smiled, satisfied in the belief that her last memory would be the best one of all, for there, radiating through the window from its fifth floor perch atop a freshly cut Christmas tree, shone the illuminated silver star from Stardust Liquors, flashing brilliantly out into the darkening night. As Janice’s car hummed to life and headed for home beneath the deep purple of the desert sky, a little girl laid her head on a soft hotel pillow and closed her eyes, waiting for her Christmas Angel.

 

--By taree Belardes 11/28/12