The Conversation
Bill DeArmond
“Jerry?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Have you talked to Charles yet?”
“About what, dear?”
“About what we discussed last night.”
“Jean, I just haven’t had the time.”
“Jerry?”
“I know, I know. But I just don’t know how to approach it. Something like this has to be handled carefully. You have to think these things over. This is a moment that could scar a kid for life.”
“Jerry, do I have to tell him myself?”
“No, dear, that wouldn’t be appropriate. I’ll do it.”
“When?”
“Soon, dear, soon.”
“Do you want him finding out from some little boy on the playground? That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, dear.”
“What did you say?”
“I mean, no, dear, it wouldn’t be right for him to find out about it from any of the kids at school.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“Alright, alright, I’ll tell him.”
“When, Jerry?”
“Now, Jean. I’m going to tell him now.”
**********
“Hey, Chuckie, what are you doing?”
“Just playing army, Dad.”
“You don’t have many soldiers there for a battle.”
“I know, that’s why I asked Santa for some army men and tanks and junk.”
“Yes...well...listen Chuck, your Mother and I were talking and...well...she thought...we thought...there was something you ought to know.”
“Know what, Dad?”
“Well, son, you’re getting old enough and...well...there are some things you need to know about. I mean...we led you to believe some things that weren’t exactly true because we...uh...we felt that it was something a little boy should believe.”
“Are you talking about all that Santa junk?”
“You know about that?”
“Yes, sir, and about the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, too.”
“What about the stork?”
“Sir?”
“Never mind. I just thought it might save us another talk later. How long have you known about this?”
“A long time. Before last Christmas anyway. My best friend Joey...you know Joey, Dad, the guy I hit on the head with a sledge hammer when we were testing that old army helmet to see if it was bullet-proof?”
“You mean the kid with the big ears?”
“Yeah...well...he told me.”
“How did you feel about it?”
“At first I didn’t believe him. I mean, you and Mom seemed so serious about it and all. I never thought you wouldn’t tell me the truth. And I guess I just didn’t want to believe it.”
“What do you mean, Chuck?”
“Dad, it was like I wasn’t a kid any more. All the fun stuff about Christmas would be gone. It just wouldn’t be the same if I let on I knew. You know, we’d go over to Aunt Daphne’s house on Christmas Eve and all the family would be there and all the kids to play with and all the food and cokes and junk. Then we’d go upstairs and watch all those old cartoons Uncle Don had. We’d watch videos of last year’s Christmas. It was really neat, but all the time I kept wanting to go home and go to sleep so Santa would come. And then finally we’d leave and it would be cold and frosty and I’d be looking out the back window for Santa’s sleigh. And then we’d get home and you would sit on my bed and make up a special Christmas story until I fell asleep and then I’d wake up before anybody else when it was still dark and I’d sneak downstairs and plug in the tree and lay under it, just smelling the pine and looking at all my presents to open until I couldn’t wait any more and I’d run up to your room and wake up you and Mom so we could open our presents. And for a long, long time after that I’d feel really good and special. You know what I mean, Dad?”
“Yes, son I felt the same way when I was your age.”
“Did you feel sad?”
“Sad?”
“When Grandpa told you, were you sad?”
“Your Grandfather didn’t tell me.”
“Who did?”
“It was some kid at school. He got mad at me one day and just blurted it out. I asked my Father and finally he said it was true. I guess, in a way, it hurt my feelings that my Dad didn’t tell me. Yes, for a long time after that I felt sad.”
“I know, Dad. I know I have to get old and all but I feel like I really lost something I liked and I’ll never get it back again.”
“I know, son. I know.”
**********
“Jerry?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Have you talked to Charles yet?”
“Jean?”
“What?”
“Shut up, dear.”
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