Showing Off for the Cows

Leon decided one Christmas we were going ice skating. He just woke up one morning excited as all “git-out” over the prospects of “flying across the ice.” He couldn’t stand to not do nothing while we were out of school for the holidays.

We didn’t have a TV. All the movies we went to at the Park Theatre were Westerns. I’d never seen anybody ice skate or heard of anyone who had ever tried it. Truth be known, it had never one time even crossed my mind.

The only skates we ever owned were the ones with the simple metal strip with four small wheels attached to the bottom that you screwed on your shoes…with a special skate key that stayed lost most of the time. They were designed to roll down the middle of Stonewall Street. Dry land. Terra firma.

We’d scrape a knee, sprain an ankle, or bust our heads wide open most every time we raced each other wearing those roller skates. If we got up any speed at all, we’d throw a skate off, and crash land on the asphalt. It was hard to screw the skates down tight enough on a pair of tennis shoes. It was even tougher to secure them to our bare feet.

My hands and nose were already getting numb by the time we tramped through the little bit of snow that had accumulated in the pasture surrounding Mr. Archie Moore’s pond. The closer we got, the more excited Leon became. I’m telling you, he lived life at full throttle!

Me, I was wishing I was in the basement of J. A. Abernathy’s Hardware Store trying to guess which toy might make it under our tree…with my name on it!

Leon interrupted my thoughts telling us about some guy named Dick Button. I scratched my brain. Was he a backup outfielder for the Milwaukee Braves?

David got our attention by pointing to the other side of the pond where Mr. Archie’s cows were casually DRINKING from it. I never gave any lip to Leon because he was five years older, knew much more than I ever would, and he didn’t take kindly to a little brother telling him what to do.

But this was approaching desperate times…. “Leon, this is nuts! There can’t be much ice on this pond if the cows can break through and drink from it!”

He never batted an eye. And matter-of-factly said, “Mr. Archie was down here before daylight with his double-bladed ax, breaking up enough ice to clear a spot for the cows.” Leon had an answer for everything. Sometimes almost too quickly. And you can bet your last two dollars he wasn’t at the pond while it was still dark spying on Mr. Moore.

We compromised. We sent David Mark out on the ice first. He was the youngest and the lightest. If it would hold him, we would probably be alright. Dave didn’t exactly skate but he ran around quite a bit. And the ice held.

There was no hill around the pond. But we backed up on a small rise and got a running start and hit the ice wide open. Our old brogan shoes had slick soles and you can’t imagine how far we could glide. I figured we’d invented a new sport.

This was the best idea Leon had ever had! And one of the few that worked. We’d form a line holding hands, spin around and see how far we could “whip” David across the ice. I had my coat off by now and my gloves and my wool cap.

Leon positioned David a few feet from the edge of the ice. He backed me up several paces. And then he backed even further. We were going to race across the pond and he had staggered the start to give everyone an equal chance. He yelled go and we all took off!

We were ripping across the ice and about the middle of the pond I caught up with Dave, and Leon caught up with me. The combined weight in one spot might have not been the best plan…I heard the ice cracking a split second before we all crashed through into the frigid water.

I came up sputtering, freezing, scared, with my head just above the water. David quickly followed, his teeth chattering. Leon calmly said, “Guys, look toward the barn, stick your left leg out at the woods behind us, lift your right arm up and stretch it out toward the road, and tilt your chin up at the sky. Let’s practice our synchronized swimming….”

I look back over my Christmases past and I am thankful for the Buck Knife, the Red Ryder fringe gloves, the shock proof Timex, and every other present I’ve ever received.

But God’s true gift to me, after the baby in a manger, was the family he blessed me with. And oh, how the memories have outlived the trinkets under the tree. I have been especially grateful over the years that God didn’t let me drown that Christmas out in the middle of Mr. Archie Moore’s pond….

Merry Christmas,
Kes
kesley45@aol.com