Holiday Dinner

The patter of heavy little feet thumped across the wooden deck. Amy Jo watched her son duck around the porch corner behind her gas grill. Peeking his head out he stared at his mother, then down the short sidewalk.

“Conner, what are you doing?”

His head retracted like a turtle behind the black metal grill shell. “I’m hiding from the Nowhere man.” The empty lower half of the grill exposed the bottom half of his purple t-shirt, all of his shorts, and the tops of his shins. 

Amy Jo turned to the young blond man who tottered awkwardly one step below the porch. “I’m sorry Joe. He always does this around strangers.” This was a lie. Connor only hid from those he called nowhere people. They had hoped by moving out of Cincinnati, to cure him of his stranger quirk.

“No worries.” Joe smiled his dazzling smile, before turning to wave at Conner. “I’m used to it by now.” Conner didn’t react to his smile, words, or wave. Joe raised the hand he’d extended using it to rub the back of his head. “Let’s just pretend it’s our own little game of hide and seek, and Conner is winning right now.”

“Mama, has he gone yet?” Conner had clear view of the man.

“Conner, he just got here.” Amy Jo sighed. The Jenkins had been their closest neighbor’s since moving to this small derelict town and Connor had never acted this way around Joe’s mother or younger sister. It wasn’t until Joe had come back home for winter break that Conner reacted this way around a Jenkins. “Let’s see what he wants before we send him on his way.” She brushed a couple strands of hair out of her face and smiled at her patient guest.

“Mom sent me to invite you, Conner,” he waved at the boy again, “and your mother over for Christmas Dinner.”

“Oh, she didn’t have to do that.” Amy Jo felt her face flush. Was it that obvious? “I thought we’d ride into Maysville and have dinner there.” No point cooking a turkey for three. They were still making sandwiches out of frozen leftovers from Thanksgiving. “We wouldn’t want to impose.” What if Conner started his act with the other Jenkins?

Once Connor decided that someone was a nowhere man--Amy Jo still didn’t know where he’d come up with that term--it was impossible to get him to react to them. He’d ignore what they had to say most of the time, or worse claim that the person talking was someone else entirely. “That’s not the nowhere man mom, that’s Joe’s sister, why can’t you see her?” He wouldn’t react to their gestures, requests, or existence. He’d walk into them, ignore them entirely and constantly ask Amy Jo or his Mema to interpret for them or explain what they were doing. 

She could see it now, an entire night trying to narrate Joe’s actions and requests while explaining pointlessly obtuse questions. “Why do I need to pass the gravy, he doesn’t eat it?” Conner would say even as Joe poured gravy over his potatoes. “Look mom his sister is throwing away a full plate of food.” He would complain as Joe tried to help clear the table. All while his Mema laughed it off as a ‘child’s foibles.’ It had happened before. It would happen again. She didn’t want to ruin the Jenkins’ dinner.

“Thanks,” she smiled, “For thinking of us. You four should have a private celebration before you have to go back to school.” There was a tingle of warmth up her neck wrapping around and causing her face to flush. Wishing she could go back to school herself? With him? She stopped the thought before it began and turned away to check her son, who gave her a confident smile before ducking away.

Joe was still there when she turned back. “Oh, I doubt there will be much privacy involved. Mom’s hosting the dinner for everyone in Johnsville who is willing to come.”

“Really?” Amy Jo raised an eyebrow.

“It’s an old Johnsville tradition. Something about a fight between the Jenkins and Hillers back during my great grandparent’s day. A meteorite crashed onto disputed land almost causing one of those feuds us Kentuckians are known for. Old lady Murphy threw a big Christmas dinner to get my Grandpa’s old man to sit down with Mr. Hiller averting a minor town crisis.”

“Murphy’s and Hillers?” She tried to run through her list of names, all the ‘neighbors’ who had come to greet them when she’d first arrived. An elderly couple had walked nearly half a mile from a house beside the desiccated remains of an old YMCA just to say hi.

“We used to trade hosting obligations, but the Hillers moved away when their oldest went to college. Mrs. Murphy’s visiting her daughter in Boston this year. Lisa is one of those girls who leaves her hometown and never comes back.” There was something in Joe’s expression, sadness? Guilt? Amy Jo shook her head, why did she care? Joe recovered quickly. “So now mom hosts whenever she feels like it. This will be our second year in a row. You’ve should at least stop by. Everyone will be there.”

“I guess we could come over for a little while.” Amy Jo fought the urge to check Connor’s reaction.

“That’s wonderful.” Joe practically beamed. It was the first time Amy had seen his full teethed smile.

“Do you need us to bring anything, or come over to help your mother setup?”

“My sister and I have setup covered.” Joe smiled. “But we would welcome a desert, if you could manage.”

“Of course.” Amy Jo smiled and nodded.

“Great.” Joe bounced on the step, slowly turning away. “Christmas day, three o’clock. That should give everybody time to get back from church.” He raised a hand over his head as he left their driveway headed for the Clements home. “You can stop hiding Conner, I’ll find you later.”

Conner did not respond, until Amy Jo turned to face him. “Is he gone?” He asked.

“Of course.” Stuck deciding between rolling her eyes or shaking her head, she sighed again. “Now why don’t you go play with Cindy?” The girl across the street was twice Connor’s age but liked to entertain the smaller boy.

“I can’t do that.” Connor shook his head. “She’s playing with Trevor.”

The two children were playing together in Cindy’s yard. “So I see. How did you know?” According to Connor, Trevor was a nowhere boy who couldn’t be seen, heard, felt, smelled, or even tasted, probably—she’d never thought to ask.

“She’s doing that thing with the ball again.” Connor said, as though that explained anything.

“Catch, honey. We call it catch.”

“But to play catch, don’t you have to catch the ball, and throw it to someone else to catch?”

“That’s the idea.”

“That’s not what she’s doing. She’s throwing the ball to empty space. Running to get it, and then throwing it again.” Connor narrated as the two tossed the ball back and forth. Amy Jo sighed, shook her head, and rolled her eyes. Her son had a wonderful imagination. One day she hoped he’d get over it.

#

      “He’s such a charming young man.” Mema smiled out the window. “And handsome too.”

        “Mom!” Connor’s mother’s face turned red for the second time that day.

        “Mom. Why are we making so many cookies?” From his place beside the sink, Connor surveyed the countertops, which were a battleground of flour, oats, sugar, and chocolate chips. He held out his hands so Mema could clean off the egg gook. His mom had let him help crack the eggs. Which was fun. 

       “We want to make enough cookies for everyone.” She fished a bit of eggshell from the batter with a fork.

        “And we have to make them now because your mom is all excited to be invited over to the Jenkins’ place.” Mema smiled while scrubbing his hands with a warm washrag.

       “Mom!” That was Connor’s mother’s pick-up-your-things-now voice.

      “There aren’t that many people coming.” Connor eyed the giant bowl.

      “I told you. Joe said everyone in Johnsville is coming.” His mom set the bowl down starting mixer.

       “There aren’t that many people in Johnsville.”

       “I know.” Mema went back to staring out the window. “Isn’t it wonderful? Small houses, nice neighbors, trees—granted not much to look at in winter.”

       “There were trees in Cincinnati. We walked by them everyday.” Connor stared at Mema. Was she going crazy? “And I’m talking about our neighbors. There aren’t a hundred and forty-four of them.” That’s how many cookies his mom said the recipe would make.

      “Well. This way everyone can have two.” Mema smiled.

       “There will be extra.” 

       “Maybe.” Mema had to raise her voice over the mixer.

       “The Nowhere people will just throw them away.” At the fast-food place last week, Connor had watched people throw away two whole happy meals, with the toys inside, while his mother told him that Nowhere children had eaten the food and taken the toys. He’d tried to prove her wrong, but she wouldn’t let him reach into the trashcan to retrieve the untouched food, or the left behind toys.

       “Sweety.” Mema ruffled his hair with her wet hands. “If there are any cookies left over, we can bring them back here after the party.”

       “Don’t indulge him, mom.” Connors mother turned off the mixer. “Connor, help add the dry ingredients. It gets hard to stir and I need your big muscles to help.”

       “Ok.” Connor slid off the counter rushing to help his mom. “Can I taste it first?” He stretched a finger towards the bowl.

       “Nope. There’s raw egg in there. It might have germs.”

       “Fine.” Connor sighed. He understood germs. They were a lot like Nowhere people. He couldn’t see them, even though his mom said they were there, and they ruined everything. He snuck a taste when his mom wasn’t looking anyway. It was sweet, and buttery, and good.

#

      “My tummy hurts.” Connor protested as they walked down the road to the Jenkins’ home. “And my nose is cold.”

Amy Jo slowed her pace so her mother and son could keep up. The Jenkins only lived a few lots down, so it would have been pointless to drive, but the weather had grown much colder, so she tried to rush them along.

      “Is this a real tummy ache, or a Nowhere people tummy ache?” Connor sometimes got this way around too many new people--too many nowhere people as he would say. In the city he had ignored more than half of the people on the street. His preschool teachers said he would only interact with a handful of children. Thankfully, her mother had been willing to watch him. Amy Jo had asked a doctor if Connor had some kind of early social anxiety.

After a quick examination, the doctor had pronounced the boy precocious. “There’s nothing I would worry about yet.” It was the most non-response Amy could have imagined.

      “It’s a real tummy ache.” Connor complained, rubbing his nose with his red gloves, coating them in a layer of clear cold snot.

       “Then I guess no more cookies today.” Sometimes her mother was better at dealing with Connor when he was like this.

       “I could still eat a cookie, maybe.”

       “I see.” Amy Jo smiled at her mom. “Well, I’ll let you have two. If you can be polite at dinner. There will be lots of new people there, friends and family home for the holidays, and we don’t want to be disrespectful.”

       “Ok mom.” Connor hung his head.

       “My, what a lovely home.” Her mother leaned against a large self-driving pickup truck to admire the Jenkin’s home. What had started life as a modest two-story farmhouse had expanded into something resembling a complex mansion. “The decorations are a nice touch.”

     “Joe and I were out until midnightsetting them up.” A young woman with long blond hair similar to Joe’s patted the haunches of a plastic reindeer. “And we almost burned down the entire neighborhood. My brother’s getting his master’s in computer science, which is fortunate, because he’d be a waste of an electrical engineer. Hi Mrs. Keen. Hi Amy Jo.” She knelt down to eye the boy on his level. “Hi Connor.”

      “Hi Manda.” Amy Jo breathed shallowly relieved. At least Manda hadn’t become a Nowhere person. Of course, once a real person in Connor’s world, always a real person. “I like your boots.”

      “Oh.” Manda looked down, as though realizing her rubber boots for the first time. “Thank you. It’s supposed to snow later, I guess I’m getting dressed early.”

      “Connor’s favorite color is purple.”

      “No. It’s lavender, like the flower. But purple is good too.” Connor hastily corrected once realizing Manda might take offense at his shoe color commentary. Amy Jo’s smiled, he was a good kid.

      “Well Mr. Flower. Why don’t we step inside?” Standing, Manda winked at Amy Jo before taking the lead into the house.

#

      “It smells wonderful. Now, where’s that handsome brother of yours?” Mema asked Manda while unwrapping Connor’s scarf.

       “Mom.” Connor’s mother complained, before moving deeper into the house to drop off the big bowl of cookies and say her hellos.

      “He’s out in the stables feeding the horses.” Manda explained. “I’ve been helping mom in the kitchen and haven’t had time to get out there today.” Connor shook his head. She had walked out of the stables to greet them. That was why she was wearing her purple boots. This was what Nowhere people did. They made people think funny, work harder, and forget what they were doing. Manda smiled, “You’ve met most of Johnsville’s locals but let me introduce you to everyone home for the holidays. We’ve got a little time before dinner.”

#

       Feeling full, Connor kicked his feet restlessly at the children’s table, with Cindy, Martin and supposedly Trevor. “So Connor, when are you coming to play videogames again? I just got Volcano Hero Two from Santa,” Cindy’s family had full virtual game room. It was a lot of fun to put on glasses and see a floor covered in lava and fight funny little monsters with swords.

       “Maybe next weekend.”  

       “Can I come too?” Martin asked. He was even younger than Connor, and always tried to follow what the older kids were doing.

     “I guess.” Cindy slid from her chair initiating a chain reaction. “Let’s play a game.”

     “What do you want to play?” She asked in Trevor’s voice. She had been speaking for him all night. Nowhere people liked to make other people talk for them.

     “How about hide and seek?” Manda spoke up behind them. “Joe and I used to play it all the time. Just no running or shouting and stick to the first floor.”

      “How are we going to decide who is it?” Connor asked.

      Manda leaned forward, smiling. She reached out to tap Connor’s head gently. “Boop. You’re it first.”

      “No fair!” Connor only half protested. 

      “Now.” Manda grabbed his shoulders and turned him towards the wall. “Start counting. I’m playing too, so let’s make it fair, count to fifty.” Connor felt her hands loosen, and the weight of her steps backing away.

    “How does counting higher make it fairer? It’s her house. One…two…three…” Counting, Connor inched closer to the desert table, to grab a cookie as he finished counting. Turning, he surveyed the room.

     Martin was easy to spot, hiding behind a group of people on couches in the living room. He probably thought he was hidden by someone who wasn’t there. Connor decided to save him for last, let him think he was doing a good job.

     In the kitchen he walked past his mother. “Connor, watch where you’re going.” There was a completely clear path in front of him. He’d probably walked into a Nowhere person. He ignored her, opening the pantry door to find Cindy behind a spice rack. 

      “I’ll tell you where Trevor hid, if you let me go.” Connor hesitated. It might be his only chance to find the Nowhere boy. He tagged her anyway.

       He walked around the entire downstairs going through every room with people in it, opening closet doors and checking behind guests and furniture, whispering, “I found you,” at every opportunity. Circling back into the dinning room, he tagged Martin along the way, and the boy moved to grab desert and sit beside Cindy.

   “I guess we’re done.” Cindy took another bite of cake. So, his strategy for ‘finding’ Trevor had worked. “I’m it now.”

    Connor shook his head. “I still have to find Manda.”

     “Find her while you hide. I don’t want to wait.”

     Good enough. Obviously wherever Manda had hidden would be a good place for him to hide too. Connor padded through the house quickly, ignoring the chance that he might run into or through Nowhere people. He was being chased now and that was always scary.

      But where could Manda have hidden? She had to stay on the first floor. Connor’s eyes rose, suddenly as he had a good idea. He rushed down the Jenkins hallway at a fast walk, waved at his Mema alone in a fancy sitting room and pulled open the one door he hadn’t last round—the door to the staircase. 

    “Found you.” Manda was sitting three stairs up inside the small corridor. Connor smiled up into her surprise. “Now let me hide behind you.”

     “Connor?” Manda asked, her voice slightly strange.

     “Cindy’s seeking now.”

    “Ah. Hide and Seek. Manda told me you were playing.” She reached up to rub the back of her head and scooted over to let Connor by. “She’s upstairs.”

     Connor frowned realizing what was happening. “Joe.”

     Joe the Nowhere man smiled back at him out of his sister’s eyes. “You found me, finally, and I found you.”

 Thus the real game began.

End

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