Aunt Trude sat in an old webbed lawn chair in the cold garage smoking a cigarette- the smoke swirling around her face- just staring at the freezer chest. She limply gathered the fleece jacket around her when the wind came blowing through the half-open garage door -the purpose of which was to let the cigarette smoke escape. She stared at the freezer chest with contempt, every once in awhile muttering something under her breath.

The side door opened and Aunt Rina walked down the steps into the garage. She had draped a sweater over her shoulders and was wiping her hands on a red and green dishtowel. At the bottom of the steps, she looked down at the dishcloth – part of the words “Ho Ho Ho” had been burned off and read only as “o Ho”. She folded the rag and laid it on a shelf with some oil cans.

“You okay, Trude?”

Aunt Trude flicked ashes into a souvenir ashtray shaped like a Georgia peach. She ran her pinkie across the words “Just peachy here in Georgia” inscribed around the edge.

“You know, everything’s going to work out, honey. The universe is not conspiring against you. These things happen, even around the holidays. Vonda ain’t hurtin’ no more. I just got off the phone with Joe. She’s somewhere else now.”

Aunt Trude gave a soft sigh. She smashed the cigarette into the ashtray, then turned to her sister.

“How many milligrams did they give her?”

“Enough that she don’t really care much about anything. But when she finally wakes up...”

“Well, she was always high-strung anyways,” interrupted Trude, then she turned back to the freezer.

“Come on back inside to the warm house.”

“Shut up, Rina. I’m trying to decide whether I want to take a sledgehammer to that freezer chest or sue the power company.”

Now you don’t mean all that. After all, it is yo-”

“Don’t you even think that, Varina Sue,” Aunt Trude interrupted, “I don’t ever want to hear those words coming out of yer mouth….ever!”

Aunt Rina adjusted her sweater, then reached out to comfort her sister. Trude shrugged away from the attempt to comfort her. Rina gave a frown and then turned to go back inside. She opened the door and turned back for a second.

“Well, I love you regardless, Vertrude. I’ve had a wonderful Christmas.”

Trude didn’t budge. She let out an irritated huff. She felt like she could chew up a bucket of nails...a five-gallon bucket! She had just ruined Christmas.

It had all started ten days after Thanksgiving. There had been this unseasonable drought all over Sypsamulga and the surrounding counties. November had started very warm and dry -just as October had been. A state of emergency had been called as the worst drought in twenty years hit hard; but ten days after Thanksgiving, there was one of the worst storms the area had seen for as many years. It was if Mother Nature had been building up to a flashy dramatic end of the year surprise. It rained cats and dogs for twenty-four hours straight. Lightening was flashing every half-second. Trees that normally never bent now were almost touching the ground. Then the power went out.

Any other time of the year, it would have been hard, but Christmas was right around the corner. Aunt Trude had been preparing for a special event that year –the family Christmas at her house. It was usually held at the old family homeplace and hosted by Aunt Vonda. But Aunt Vonda had taken ill with her heart and had to spend some time in the hospital. The doctor told her that she had to take it easy and not get worked up or stressed out, so the planning of the extended family Christmas fell to the next in line –Aunt Trude.

Aunt Trude started her preparations the moment she got the call from Aunt Vonda. She spent those days after Thanksgiving preparing and freezing everything she could -chicken and dressing, cakes, cookies, and anything else that she could to save some time. She thought if she could get most of the cooking out of the way, she could concentrate on her real love of crafting and decorating. She was bound and determined that Christmas that year was going to have her unique artistic stamp upon it.

But the power had gone out and she sent everyone scurrying around trying to find her a portable generator. She had figured that for a few hours everything in the freezer would be fine, but the power company kept increasing the delay until the power would be restored. Lots of power lines had fallen during the storm and no one knew when it would finally be restored. Her nephew and his friend “Chainsaw” had finally gotten one for her and hooked it up to the freezer.

“Mrs. Vonda, I live down the street and I’ll run by to top off the gas tank every few hours for ya,” Chainsaw told her as they got ready to leave.

“Well, thank you, Phillip,” she said to him, “I’d appreciate that.” (She always called Chainsaw by his real name, Phillip.)

Later that evening, she carried out to the freezer a box of her special coconut delight cookies, which was the last thing she had to put in the freezer until the big day. The generator was puttering away just outside the garage. She looked at the set-up the boys had used – big orange extension cord from the generator, under the garage door to around the back of the freezer. That’s when she saw it – they had plugged the three-prong freezer power cord into the two-prong extension cord. Trude worried about something catching fire, so she unplugged it. She went inside and called Chainsaw.

“It’ll be okay, Mrs. Vonda. It’s just a ground. The generator will be alright on that there extension cord,” Chainsaw assured her.

Vonda decided she’d make a quick stop at the store and pick up an adapter anyway after she hung up the phone. She was on her way back out to the garage when the phone rang again. It was her brother-in-law wanting her to sit with Vonda while he went to the grocery store. The only way to get Aunt Vonda to actually rest and relax was to have a 24-hour guard on her.

For the next few days, if she wasn’t decorating or something for the family Christmas, Trude was helping out with Aunt Vonda, alternating with her brother-in-law and Aunt Rina. With the power still out, everything had become harder and more complicated. Aunt Trude was constantly on the go. She wasn’t home much, and when she was she was busy with some Christmas project. What she couldn’t do something at home, she accomplished at her daughter’s house in her spare room – they hadn’t lost power during the big storm. She had set up a big table there with her glue guns and glue pots, as well as all her other essentials. For the most part, she was only going home to get supplies.

One day, when she had ran home to get craft supplies, she ran into Chainsaw filling up the gas tank.

“Phillip, shouldn’t you be turning that off to fill the gas tank?” she questioned him.

“Naw, ma’am. This is fine...don’t have to crank it back up and all.”

She shook her head and walked on into the house. As soon as she walked in the lights flashed a bit. Hopefully, the power would be on soon. The lights flashing made her remember something and she ran outside to catch Chainsaw before he left.

“Phillip!” she shouted to him as he was putting the gas can into the back of his truck. “Could you go out to the shed and bring in a few boxes of Christmas lights and the lawn decorations? They’re just too heavy for me to move.”

About thirty minutes later, the light flashed on. Trude started doing some dusting while Chainsaw brought in the lights. She figured she could untangle them while she watched Hee Haw and Lawrence Welk on TV.

Well, Chainsaw said he had to go home as he carried in the last box of decorations into the den.

“Well, Phillip, now that the power is finally on. Can you go out and turn that generator off and drop it of at the Smith’s house on the way back home? Then that will take care of that for me and I can get the decorating finally finished.”

Chainsaw said his good-bye and walked out to the garage. He flicked the almost hidden switch, then unplugged the extension cord. As the generator purred to a stop, he pulled the extension cord to him and saw that the end wasn’t plugged into another power cord. He figured that Aunt Trude had already plugged the freezer back into the outlet. He rolled up the extension cord and placed it on a shelf. He picked up the generator and carried it to his truck. He set it in the bed of the truck and was off on his way home.

The next couple days, Trude was at Vonda’s house helping out, sitting with Vonda, or finishing up her decorating duties. It was almost Christmas Eve, and they had planned that Rina would take her place while Trude finalized any Christmas plans and preparations.

Trude had gotten back home and figured she’d pull some things out of the freezer to defrost in the refrigerator overnight, as well as get out some of the extra butter she had saved to bake some extra batches of cookies to give as gifts. She walked out to the garage and sniffed. There was a whiffy odor in the garage like something had died. She figured a mouse had gotten into garage and died. It probably was in one of the mouse traps she had set out just in case. She began to look for the dead mouse – the sooner she could find it, the sooner the garage would air out. She noticed the smell was coming from near the freezer chest. She walked closer and bent down to look under the edge, that was when she saw the power cord laying on the cement floor. Her heart started to race. She stood up, shifted over to the middle of the freezer, slowly moved her hand to handle, and pulled upward. The freezer lid cracked. Trude gagged as the smell of rotted meat hit her nostrils. Her hand pulled away from the lid, and it slammed shut. She ran over to a corner of the garage, holding her breath. She could not get the garage door opened fast enough. She finally made it to the grass and retched. She heard herself getting sick and it made her even sicker. Finally it stopped, and she just stood there for a bit – one hand on her forehead, the other wiping saliva off her chin. What a great Christmas this is going to be she thought as she felt the bile rising again in the back of her throat. Aunt Trude felt as if she had just killed Christmas.

Chainsaw was driving by and saw Trude out on the lawn, bent over getting sick. He squealed to a stop, jumped out of his truck and ran to her.

“Mrs. Trude, is it your heart?” he yelled to her.

“Yep, it’s my heart,” she answered back.

“I’ll get you to the hospital. Just grab my arm...”

She pushed him away at first.

“Just help me inside,” she told him.

Big gruff Chainsaw, as gently as he could, helped her into the house. He settled her on the couch. Trude sat there muttering to herself, in a daze.

“I forgot to plug it back in.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mrs. Trude.”

After a few minutes, she turned to him and explained how she had seen the freezer power cord plugged precariously into the extension cord, but that she had, for days, also had forgotten to plug it back in nor had she gone to get an adapter.

“I haven’t even been out in the garage,” she told him, then she began to cry.

“Oh, Mrs. Trude, I’ll call some guys over and we’ll clean out that freezer. Make it spotless for you. Then I’ll run down to the IGA and pick you up something for your dinner,” he told her trying to comfort her. “You just keep decorating. We can’t cancel Christmas, now can we?”

She looked at him and smiled. “Thank you, Phillip.”

Chainsaw and the boys worked late into the night cleaning out the freezer chest. They finally called it a night once they finished cloroxing the inside of the freezer and rinsed it. They propped the lid open to let it dry out. Chainsaw said he would be back bright and early to go to the store for her.

True to his word, Chainsaw rattled up into the drive in his old pick-up truck. Trude had surveyed her kitchen and had made a list. Chainsaw insisted that she rest and let him fight the last-minute crowds for her.

Trude was joylessly hanging some ornaments on her tree when Chainsaw drove back up a few hours later. He walked in holding a couple of shopping bags.

“Mrs. Trude, I hate to tell you this, but there wasn’t much left to choose from at the grocery store. I used my initiative and got what I figured might do well for a big get-together.”

Chills went down Aunt Trude’s spine when she thought of Chainsaw’s idea of Christmas dinner. His reputation was based on moonshine, deer hunting, and football. He was a good boy, but he was no Julia Child.

“Okay, now,” he said, rummaging around inside one of the big brown paper bags. “First off I got some cocktail sauce.” He pulled out three bottles and set them on the counter. “I figured everybody likes cocktail sauce. I mean, what are schrimps but vehicles for cocktail sauce, right? They’re just easy things to use to sop it up. I figured we could use crackers, make it like a dip.”

Aunt Trude just shook her head in response and tightly gripped the counter.

“I once drank a whole bottle of cocktail sauce on a dare once. It made me sick as a dog, but I still like it. Anyway, they were out of ham, chicken, and turkey; however….” he paused while he reached both hands into the bag. “I did manage to convince that old man who works in the meat department to sell me a whole pickle loaf.”

Aunt Trude wanted to cry when she saw Chainsaw pull out the big orange tube of meat.

“Whoever thought to mix pickle chunks into bologna is a damn genius. Oh, excuse my language,” said Chainsaw, patting the big loaf like a fat baby pig in his arms. “Hey, you could even fry it up and serve it with cocktail sauce!” He smiled and then softly laid the loaf on the counter. “The rest is just some cookies and assorted crackers, like what was on your list.”

“Thanks for your help, Phillip,” Trude said, politely. “I need to make some phone calls, so if you would excuse me. Come back by this evening and see everybody. Bring your daddy.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Trude. Daddy won’t come but I’ll drop by.”

Aunt Trude spent the rest of the morning calling people and explaining the situation. Her daughter had some Cornish game hens in her freezer and a lasagne. Rina had a coconut cake she had made as well as a pan of chicken and dressing. With everybody bringing something extra stuff there would be plenty of food. Trude still had all the canned vegetables in her pantry that she could heat up – there would be green bean casserole. But still, the whole evening, Trude was upset. News had gotten to Vonda, Trude had heard, and she was fit to be tied. While everybody was watching a movie in the den, Trude sneaked off to the garage to have a smoke and get control of herself. She pulled out a lawn chair and located her cigarettes stashed on high shelf inside a clay flowerpot. She pulled out a cigarette and rolled it between two fingers. The old dry tobacco crinkled as she rolled it. She put it between her lips and lit it with her Bic lighter. She stood there for a minute, smoking the old cigarette and staring at the old freezer chest. She grabbed an ashtray from the shelf shaped like a peach, the color was chipped and burned – it was the one she had been given by someone who had gone to Six Flags in Georgia...one of the grandkids, she thought. She read the words along the edge, “Just peachy here in Georgia”. She rolled her eyes. She let out a big puff of smoke. She walked over to the garage door and opened it a bit to let out the smoke. Then went back to the lawn chair and plopped down into it. She stared at the freezer. She heard the side door open. She knew it was Varina. She wanted to be alone. She let Rina talk. Rina muttered something about old Vonda. Trude was not really concentrating on the conversation. Trude just wanted to sulk about her Christmas failure. Eventually, Rina went back inside.

Trude just sat there, then the side door opened again.

“So you’re back? What you want to say this time?” Trude growled, thinking Rina had come back.

“I just wanted to say thanks for asking me to drop in. And I just wanted to check on you.”

Welll, that isn’t Varina Sue, thought Trude, and she turned around to see Chainsaw standing there. He had cleaned up and looked very respectable.

“I know your holiday didn’t turn out like you expected it to, but your family is having a good time. Looks like you had plenty of good food.”

“Did you make yourself a plate?” Aunt Trude asked him.

“I was about to do just that,” answered Chainsaw. He turned and was about to go in. He turned back toward Aunt Trude. “Your family has always been like family to me and I do appreciate it. You and your sisters are the closest thing I have as far as a mother or aunts.” He walked over and gave Trude a gentle hug. He gave her a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Glad I was able to help you out. Glad to do it anytime. I’m always here if you need me for anything, Mrs. Trude. Merry Christmas!” Then he rushed back toward the door. “Now I need some of that pickle loaf!”

Aunt Trude sat in her chair feeling a bit different now. It wasn’t their best Christmas, she thought, but maybe it was the Christmas we needed.