complaining loudly from the front row that in her Bible, Mary wasn’t delivered of the child until after they reached the stable, and that Reverend Caudill should be more careful to avoid scriptural error. Joseph, clearly not concerned with such details, took the doll from its mother and placed it on his shoulder according to the script. The organist was well into “While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks,” with the congregation following, when two adolescents wrapped in bathrobes joined the tableau.
“Whatcha got there, Frank?” Eddie, Shepherd #2, had observed the obvious.
“Shaddup,” Frank grumbled above the music.
“Looks like a baby doll, Frank.” Richard, Shepherd #1, was covering his mouth, equally sympathetic. The organist was slowing down even more for the final stanza, while Toler, in the choir loft, was watching the commotion and glaring.
“Shaddup. You didn’t have to hold a sheep!”
“Shhhhh, you’re going to get us in trouble.” Darlene glared at both boys.
Reverend Caudill scanned the congregation again, particularly noting the parents among them. Arlie and Lula Mae were about two-thirds back on his left, directly in front of Eddie’s parents. Welby, Alma, and the Osgoods were inthe front to his right. Everyone —so far —seemed pleased with the progress of the pageant. Except Toler and Madeline Crutcher, of course, who were never pleased with anything. And the young man who sat squirming under the balcony. The woman —his wife? —leaned her head onto his shoulder, but he shifted in his seat and divided his attention between his wristwatch and the church exit.
By now, two shepherds, one adoptive father, and one choir director were all grimacing, with the young virgin mother trying to restore order. As the last line of the carol echoed through the sanctuary, Frank looked straight at Eddie and said loudly, “Hold the baby.”
Before Reverend Caudill or anyone else could intervene, Frank slapped the bundle on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Aw, man!”
Eddie froze for a moment, then fingered the damp splotch on his chest and shoved the doll into Richard’s arms, who handed it back to Frank, who, having run out of shepherds, gave it to a startled Darlene. Someone was heard to mumble, “I’ll get you,” under his breath.
“Shhhhh! Be quiet!” Darlene began to cry.
Reverend Caudill, who had up to now enjoyed a stellar day, began to lose a bit of his smile. Fortunately, the lights were dim where he was sitting, so hopefully no one would notice. He could be grateful for that . And for the Goody’s headache powder he kept in his office for afterward.
Just then, somebody plugged in the drop cord that powered the light bulb in the tin star hanging over the baptistery. Apparently this was the cue for the organist to launchinto “We Three Kings.” Toler, always more a follower than a leader, frowned some more and began waving his arms to the music. Wise Man #1 was by now halfway down the aisle with his bottle of green Kool-Aid, and Vee stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light from the vestibule.
Mrs. Crutcher was right on cue with her biblical insights. “The magi found the babe in a house , not a stable . Why isn’t there a house?”
Vee, undeterred by the theological controversy, made his own entrance, a small jewel box balanced precariously on Mavine’s pillow.
At that moment Alma turned, pointed the Brownie camera, and tripped the shutter. The flashbulb went off with a spectacular poof , the organist lost her place, and Toler abandoned what was left of his composure. Mrs. Crutcher shrieked and threw her bulletin in the air. Vee walked into the side of a pew and then tripped on the dangling sash of his bathrobe, launching the jewel box down the aisle.
Reverend Caudill watched helplessly from the platform as Vee dusted himself off and limped to the side of the manger. Wise Man #3, Toler’s grandson, was nowhere to be seen. He could be heard, however,
“Whatcha got there, Frank?” Eddie, Shepherd #2, had observed the obvious.
“Shaddup,” Frank grumbled above the music.
“Looks like a baby doll, Frank.” Richard, Shepherd #1, was covering his mouth, equally sympathetic. The organist was slowing down even more for the final stanza, while Toler, in the choir loft, was watching the commotion and glaring.
“Shaddup. You didn’t have to hold a sheep!”
“Shhhhh, you’re going to get us in trouble.” Darlene glared at both boys.
Reverend Caudill scanned the congregation again, particularly noting the parents among them. Arlie and Lula Mae were about two-thirds back on his left, directly in front of Eddie’s parents. Welby, Alma, and the Osgoods were inthe front to his right. Everyone —so far —seemed pleased with the progress of the pageant. Except Toler and Madeline Crutcher, of course, who were never pleased with anything. And the young man who sat squirming under the balcony. The woman —his wife? —leaned her head onto his shoulder, but he shifted in his seat and divided his attention between his wristwatch and the church exit.
By now, two shepherds, one adoptive father, and one choir director were all grimacing, with the young virgin mother trying to restore order. As the last line of the carol echoed through the sanctuary, Frank looked straight at Eddie and said loudly, “Hold the baby.”
Before Reverend Caudill or anyone else could intervene, Frank slapped the bundle on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Aw, man!”
Eddie froze for a moment, then fingered the damp splotch on his chest and shoved the doll into Richard’s arms, who handed it back to Frank, who, having run out of shepherds, gave it to a startled Darlene. Someone was heard to mumble, “I’ll get you,” under his breath.
“Shhhhh! Be quiet!” Darlene began to cry.
Reverend Caudill, who had up to now enjoyed a stellar day, began to lose a bit of his smile. Fortunately, the lights were dim where he was sitting, so hopefully no one would notice. He could be grateful for that . And for the Goody’s headache powder he kept in his office for afterward.
Just then, somebody plugged in the drop cord that powered the light bulb in the tin star hanging over the baptistery. Apparently this was the cue for the organist to launchinto “We Three Kings.” Toler, always more a follower than a leader, frowned some more and began waving his arms to the music. Wise Man #1 was by now halfway down the aisle with his bottle of green Kool-Aid, and Vee stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light from the vestibule.
Mrs. Crutcher was right on cue with her biblical insights. “The magi found the babe in a house , not a stable . Why isn’t there a house?”
Vee, undeterred by the theological controversy, made his own entrance, a small jewel box balanced precariously on Mavine’s pillow.
At that moment Alma turned, pointed the Brownie camera, and tripped the shutter. The flashbulb went off with a spectacular poof , the organist lost her place, and Toler abandoned what was left of his composure. Mrs. Crutcher shrieked and threw her bulletin in the air. Vee walked into the side of a pew and then tripped on the dangling sash of his bathrobe, launching the jewel box down the aisle.
Reverend Caudill watched helplessly from the platform as Vee dusted himself off and limped to the side of the manger. Wise Man #3, Toler’s grandson, was nowhere to be seen. He could be heard, however,
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