“Merry Christmas!” Jason said to the men assembled in the basement. “We’re glad to have the means to serve you all a special breakfast this morning. It’s Christmas, which means there’s hope, that no matter how ugly the world gets, that God will show up as one of us, to help us.”

“Did you win last night, Father Jason?” one of the men shouted out, which prompted another man to shush him.

“It’s okay, Harold.” Jason told the man. “Yes, I won, but even if I lost, at least I’m fighting, and I’m going to keep on fighting. And we got a new sponsor, Golden Crust Bread—you can thank them for the toast. Someone want to say grace?”

The men looked down, while Sister Mildred in her black and white habit, and Maureen in her red plaid skirt and green sweater, waited patiently at the serving cart.

“Someday, somebody’s going to take me up on that,” Jason said, and there were several chuckles. “Lord, thanks for your Son, for this food, for the men gathered here, and the women. Amen.”

As always, somebody prematurely shouted “amen!” at the mention of the women. The men dashed up to the serving line. Today there were pancakes, toast, and sausages, none of which was easy to cook outside in the cold over a fire. Several men not only helped cook but ran the food into the basement so it wouldn’t get cold.

Jason was last, getting his breakfast and joining the men at the tables. “Before you ask, Harvey, I got headbutted last night. That guy fought like a street dog.”

“The father took a late punch at the bell, and a low blow, too,” Franklin added. “But he came back with a dirty trick of his own, slugged him with an elbow.”

“Good to see you’re relaxed this morning, Franklin. I might need a shot of that coffee myself.” Jason smiled, and the two men exchanged knowing looks. “It was Franklin here who had to run to the lockers to get some petroleum jelly to close up this gash.”

“He was bleeding like a stuck pig,” Franklin explained.

“Franklin said to fight fire with fire, and sure enough, that’s what I did,” Jason told the men about his fight as a crowd gathered. Jason was last in line, so many of the men had already finished their breakfasts. “That elbow landed with a crack and he was out, colder than a mackerel. His team had to carry him to the lockers.”

As the men filtered off to the dorms where it was warmer, Jason got up and took his tray to Sister Mildred, who had a wagon piled up with dirty dishes. “Let me help you with that, Sister.”

“I’m fine, why don’t ya run along.” Sister Mildred adjusted a stack of plates so they wouldn’t fall. “Ya probly could use some rest this mornin’.”

Maureen smiled and helped steady the plates as she and her aunt moved the wagon full of dishes toward a laundry tub in the corner.

After washing and putting away the dishes, and the two ladies returned to their room, Jason knocked at their door. Sister Mildred answered the door, as Maureen adjusted the foil trimming in the small Christmas tree standing on the table.

“I got you two ladies gifts,” Jason announced.

“Well, come in,” the sister urged him.

Jason handed the sister a long cardboard tube standing six feet tall, and then gave Maureen a smaller gift box.

“What is it? It looks like a giant shillelagh.” The nun tore open the top seal of the tube, and upended it so her gift could slide out. “A fishin’ pole! How in the world did ya know?”

“Well, you said you were a tomboy, doing all the boy things,” Jason shrugged his shoulders, “so I figured you and your dad went fishing.”

“I’ve been meanin’ ta go, but I been so busy here at the shelter, and haven’t had a pole ta boot.” The nun mimed casting a line with the pole in her hands. “How about you, lassie?”

“It’s a French dictionary.” Maureen flipped through the pages, and discovered inserted as a bookmark, a black satin ribbon with an oval of shiny sequins embedded in silver. “It’s beautiful, Father Jason. Thank you!”

Maureen jumped up in her excitement and hugged him, throwing her arms against his neck, while at the same time smashing her voluminous breasts up against him. He was heady with excitement, as though he’d just been in a car accident and an airbag had deployed, billowing against his chest.

“We got you a gift, too, Father Jason.” Maureen broke off her embrace and took the package her aunt handed her. She gave it to Jason, waiting on her tiptoes to see his reaction.

Jason opened the paper bag and removed a pair of green satin trunks, with what looked like a black snake stitched along the side, until he realized it was a shillelagh. “My gosh, ladies, this is nice! And I love the symbolism of the shillelagh.”

“You think we could go visit my sister?” Maureen asked. “I hate for her to be alone on Christmas.”

“Sure.” Jason felt uncomfortable. As always, he was afraid to trust himself alone with the redhead, who was gorgeous and a little too friendly. “Sister, would you like to come with us?”

“Nah,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You two go on along. Someone’s got ta mind the store.”

Jason and the young redhead took the car out to the sanitarium, a long, uneasy drive of forty minutes, and even though Jason knew what to expect this time, it was still difficult to see the emaciated Laura, lying asleep on a bunk, in a wooden barn filled with hundreds of other bunks just like it, and hundreds of other patients like Maureen’s sister.

Maureen took her sister’s thin, colorless hand in her freckled hand. “Father Jason was nice enough to give me a French dictionary—I told you I was taking French—and this ribbon here. Feel it.”

On the way out to the sanitarium earlier, Maureen brought out the ribbon that Jason gave her and fixed it in her hair. “How’s that look?” she asked, turning to Jason, who struggled to keep control of the car.

“Beautiful,” he replied, stealing a quick look at her wavy red hair, red lips, and her green eyes set in a snowy white face dusted with gold.

Here at the sanitarium, Maureen bent her head down while lifting her sister’s limp hand up to touch the satin ribbon. “Is that soft?”

Maureen opened a little paper bag to remove an orange. “I brought you an orange. They’re so hard to get.” She began peeling the orange with her slender fingers, then split apart the sections. “Smell it; it’s lovely.”

Maureen held the section of orange under her sister’s nose, hoping that the scent would stir her. It reminded Jason of the smelling salts Francis’ corner men held under his nose to revive him last night, but to no avail.

“Want some?” Maureen waited patiently for an answer, but was forced to eat the orange herself, while Jason took the peel to the wastebasket near the front door.

When Jason returned, he handed Maureen his handkerchief so she could wipe her hands.

“Thank you.” Maureen cleaned her hands, then returned his hankie. She reached back into her paper bag. “Auntie and I made popcorn balls. I made one just for you. Smell it.”

Maureen waved the popcorn ball beneath her sister’s nose, then set it onto a piece of wax paper she put on the bed so the ball would remain clean. “I’m going to leave it here for you. Whenever you want, you can just wake up and take a bite.” She stood up and adjusted her skirt. “Father Jason and I will be going now. We’ll be back, and we’ll be praying for you. You’ve got to try that popcorn ball, I’m telling you.”

Jason and Maureen were about to leave, when an attendant came forward. “Sorry, miss, you can’t leave food. We’ll have problems with vermin trying to eat it. Sorry, about that.”

Maureen went back to pick up the popcorn ball from her sister’s bed. Maureen carried it with her as she and Jason walked to the exit, then paused at the wastebasket. The popcorn ball tumbled out of her hand, falling into the wastebasket, and Maureen broke into tears.

Once they were in the car and back on the road, Jason asked, “Are you okay?” and set his hands on hers, which rested on her lap. When he became aware of a thrill that electrified him, he quickly pulled his hand back.

“It’s never easy.” Maureen looked out the car window, then turned to Jason. “You said Christmas is about hope, right? There’s always hope?”

“Yeah, there’s always hope.” Jason had to work to convince himself, because Laura didn’t look good at all, lying in her bunk like a limp rag. “I was also going to say this morning that Christmas is about family, but so many of the men have no family, no one, that it would be like rubbing salt into an open wound. You did the right thing, seeing your sister.”

They drove in silence, until Jason saw a Ferris wheel towering above the road, lit up brightly. “Since when do Ferris wheels operate on Christmas Day?” Jason wondered, but remembered the game was full of talking monkeys and a badger in a pinstripe suit, so why not?

“You look like you could use a shot in the arm. What do you say we ride the Ferris wheel?” Jason looked at Maureen, whose eyes were damp.

“On Christmas Day?” She looked up and saw the Ferris wheel looming up ahead. “I’d like that.”

Jason drove the car into the parking lot, where several other cars were parked, and the two of them got out to wait in the short line. Jason paid 15 cents each, and the operator seated Jason and Maureen in the cabin, drawing a seatbelt across their laps. It was cold, so the two of them huddled together.

“It’s the cold, right?” Jason asked himself. He felt comfortably warm with her snuggled up against him.

Their cabin rose as the large wheel turned, and Jason felt light in his stomach. The wheel revolved, and they climbed higher, to where Jason could see the city, but to his surprise, there was no Empire State Building on the New York City skyline. When their gondola reached the summit, he felt that they were eye-to-eye with the zeppelin drifting through the skies, headed inland.

The Ferris wheel rolled forward, and they did two complete circles before the wheel stopped, with Jason and Maureen’s gondola poised at the top of the wheel, rocking gently. They had a bird’s eye view of the city and the ocean, which was breath-taking, but Jason was absorbed by Maureen’s beauty.

He felt as if they were in freeze frame, as his heart slowed and her eyes opened wide. Jason leaned in and kissed her. Her lips eagerly met his, and the sensation was heavenly.

“Oh, no,” Jason thought, when he broke off the kiss. “What have I just done?”

* * *

“I’m speechless.” Jason stared down into the green velvet lined box, where two Wilson Combat automatics nestled side by side. “You must have spent a fortune on these guns, while I’m cleaning and vacuuming your house as a Christmas gift. You got robbed.”

“No, I got my Christmas gift last night.” Gramps smiled, and he had that faraway look in his eyes again. “You kissed her, didn’t you?”

“Hold on, I thought you couldn’t see what goes on in my game.”

“True, I can’t see anything specific,” Gramps told him, “but I can see your brain waves, and the pleasure center in your brain was lit up like you won the lottery.”

“Well, the moment seemed right.” Jason blew out a long breath. “I’m worried that I’ve screwed up—after all, Maureen thinks I’m a priest, and so do the men. But at the moment, I had to kiss her: it’s like there was no other option.”

“You don’t know how happy that makes me.” Gramps kicked back his recliner. “It’s a scenario from my life, just not on Christmas. I was in high school then, and wild about Nova Henson, who was beautiful. We ran into each other at the fair and I asked her to ride the Ferris wheel with me. We were right at that critical moment, with our gondola at the peak, seated right next to each other. Our eyes met…and I choked. So there is another option, choking.”

Jason set down his coffee cup. “Honestly, I probably would have choked too, if it weren’t for what I’ve learned in the game, and how you’ve opened my eyes to how to succeed with women.”

“Afterwards, my best friend, who wound up dating her, said Nova told him that she was completely turned off and lost all interest in me after I choked.” Gramps scratched his head. “Nobody ever tells you that women want a man who’s fearless, who takes charge, who’s aggressive and proactive. How was I to know?”

“Wow, Nova. That was the name of gorgeous chick in Planet of the Apes, who was Charlton Heston’s girlfriend. Sounds like an omen to me.” Jason took another look at his new guns.

“She was in Return to the Planet of the Apes, too,” Gramps corrected him. “It’s better that I remember her how she was then. She’s sixty years old today, assuming she’s still alive.”

“Why don’t you look her up?” Jason suggested.

“I don’t want a sixty-old-woman.” Gramps shuddered at the thought.

“Isn’t that hypocritical?”

“Damn right, that’s hypocritical.” Gramps slapped the armrest of his recliner for emphasis. “I don’t want a woman I deserve; I want someone better. My girlfriend’s 21 now, and better looking than Nova ever was, plus Nova was flat-chested, but I was too smitten with her to notice.”

“Even the old carabao likes the fresh, sweet grass, right?” Jason smiled, but still couldn’t help looking at his guns. “Sorry to change gears, but don’t worry, I’ll get tested.”

“Like I said last night, hemochromatosis isn’t fatal as long as you catch it before your iron levels build up, saturate your organs, and it’s too late by then. I’m lucky I discovered I had it, entirely by accident.” Gramps smiled when he saw his grandson admiring his new guns. “Getting tested might boost your health in both columns.”

* * *

Jason sat on his bed in the rectory, admiring the new set of trunks that the ladies made for him. He was working on saving money, and providing food for the shelter, so he wouldn’t have bought them for himself. He also remembered kissing Maureen, and worried that it would change things—what would they do the next time they saw each other?

“How about a WOW?”

Jason was startled by the sudden appearance of the little monkey on the bed beside him.

“What in the hell is a wow?” Jason folded up his trunks and set them aside.

“Word Of Wisdom. It lets you buy a critical bit of secret knowledge you wouldn’t otherwise know.” The monkey held out his tin cup.

“Buy? I should have known.” Jason stood up to reach into his pocket for a dime.

“That’s five dollars.” The monkey smiled broadly, a smile that always seemed forced, exposing a mouth brimming with white teeth.

“Five dollars? This had better be worth five dollars.” Jason still had last night’s winnings, minus a dollar for Franklin. He put a fiver in the monkey’s cup. “What is it I need to know so badly?”

“This just might keep you from getting killed.”