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ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, the stoplight next to The Carney was red, so I looked over at The Angel of Death while I waited for it to change to see what he was up to.
The weather is warm today in Houston, and The Carney was in his shirtsleeves. To my delight and surprise, he wore a red Santa hat. Death has more of a sense of whimsy than most people give him credit for. He was playing his harmonica, so I rolled down my window to hear him, and the strains of Merry Christmas, Baby drifted into my ears over the sounds of the wind and the traffic. I found myself singing the lyrics to myself:
I found myself smiling. I like the song. The Carney noticed me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in greeting. He started to play with more gusto and put on a show for me.
Like last year, he had a wreath hanging on the gate that he stands next to, with a big red bow on it. He gets into our mortal celebrations. I guess that they break up the monotony of the everyday for him, just like they do for the living. He still has to work on the holidays, of course, but that doesn't mean he doesn't acknowledge them in his own way.
This year, he also has a tree. It isn't much of a tree, but where is death going to store a lot of decorations for a big one? The tree stood only stood about 4 feet high. It had a simple star on top of it that looked to be make of cardboard covered in aluminum foil. I wondered if The Carney made it himself, or if someone stepping off of the ride had handed it to him. The branches were decorated with strings of popcorn and pinecones covered in peanut butter and rolled in birdseed. Birds flew around and perched on the boughs of the little Christmas tree, like animated ornaments. The only lights on the tree was the morning sun shining through the branches that seemed to flicker each time a bird flew across a shaft of it.
I noticed the tree has no stand; it is a live tree growing out of the ground that he had decorated. I tried to remember if I had seen an evergreen, or any tree, growing just inside Death's gate in the past. Then the stop light changed from red to green, so I quit worrying about Death and his decorations and turned my attention to the rest of my journey.
As I drove away, the last strains of The Carney's melody rang in my ears.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ # ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
The weather is warm today in Houston, and The Carney was in his shirtsleeves. To my delight and surprise, he wore a red Santa hat. Death has more of a sense of whimsy than most people give him credit for. He was playing his harmonica, so I rolled down my window to hear him, and the strains of Merry Christmas, Baby drifted into my ears over the sounds of the wind and the traffic. I found myself singing the lyrics to myself:
Merry Christmas baby
You sure did treat me nice
Merry Christmas baby
You sure did treat me nice
Gave me a diamond ring for Christmas
Now I'm livin' in paradise
I found myself smiling. I like the song. The Carney noticed me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in greeting. He started to play with more gusto and put on a show for me.
Well I'm feelin' mighty fine
Got good music on my radio
I'm feelin' mighty fine
Got good music on my radio
Well I wanna kiss you baby
While we're standing underneath the mistletoe
Like last year, he had a wreath hanging on the gate that he stands next to, with a big red bow on it. He gets into our mortal celebrations. I guess that they break up the monotony of the everyday for him, just like they do for the living. He still has to work on the holidays, of course, but that doesn't mean he doesn't acknowledge them in his own way.
Santa came down the chimney
About half past three
Left all these pretty presents
That you see before me
This year, he also has a tree. It isn't much of a tree, but where is death going to store a lot of decorations for a big one? The tree stood only stood about 4 feet high. It had a simple star on top of it that looked to be make of cardboard covered in aluminum foil. I wondered if The Carney made it himself, or if someone stepping off of the ride had handed it to him. The branches were decorated with strings of popcorn and pinecones covered in peanut butter and rolled in birdseed. Birds flew around and perched on the boughs of the little Christmas tree, like animated ornaments. The only lights on the tree was the morning sun shining through the branches that seemed to flicker each time a bird flew across a shaft of it.
I noticed the tree has no stand; it is a live tree growing out of the ground that he had decorated. I tried to remember if I had seen an evergreen, or any tree, growing just inside Death's gate in the past. Then the stop light changed from red to green, so I quit worrying about Death and his decorations and turned my attention to the rest of my journey.
As I drove away, the last strains of The Carney's melody rang in my ears.
Merry Christmas baby
You sure been good to me
Well I haven't had a drink this morning
But I'm all lit up like a Christmas tree...
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Date: 2006-12-15 10:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-16 09:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-17 04:42 am (UTC)He really gets into Christmas, which surprised the hell out of me because when you meet him, he doesn't look like the type who would. Then again, you wouldn't think he was a good dancer, either. Goes to show you can't judge a book by it's cover, I guess.