Song of the Red-Legged Birds: Failed Xmas Epilogue
CUTTING ROOM FLOOR
Hi readers, A couple of months ago I posted the last chapter of my serial novel Song of the Red-Legged Birds. I thought I’d share one more piece that I cut from the novel. This was going to be a sort of epilogue but is more of a holiday story. I like aspects of it, but it didn’t make the cut.
Happy Holidays,
Bill
Failed Xmas Epilogue
“You did this to me!” Holly yelled from the kitchen.
Takeda rushed in after spilling spiked eggnog all over a manuscript. “What’s wrong?”
Holly was gripping a gingerbread man cookie by its arms. A protruding belly kept her from the other potential targets of her wrath by about a foot. The confections rested on a cookie sheet, fixed in a jumping pose with icing smiles.
“Put the cookie down, H. It didn’t do anything wrong,” Takeda said, approaching her one step at a time like a cop talking down a jumper from a ledge.
“I know, doofus. I’m pretending this is you.” She broke off an arm and popped it into her mouth. “Let’s have another, you said. Well, it’s two, and they’re fighting my intestines for room!” Brown crumbs spilled from her mouth.
The sound of tiny feet approached.
“What’s wrong, Mama?” A little girl clutched a worn brown teddy bear to her red feet pajama onesie. A soft curl fell across her wide brown eyes.
Holly dropped the remains of the cookie and scooped up her daughter. “Nothin’ pumpkin, I’m just being silly with Daddy. Want to decorate some cookies, or are you still playing video games online with grandma?”
“Are you coming back, dear?” An elderly voice crackled over speakers from the other room.
“I’m a play more. Gramma is funny,” the little girl said, escaping Holly’s grasp and taking off at a trot.
“Ember’s coming back, Mom,” Takeda shouted, guiding her around Triscuit. “Watch out for Tris, honey. She came looking for you.” The dog wobbled into the kitchen, tasting the air for baked goods and leaning against the doorjamb.
Holly wiped the sweat off of her brow with her forearm. “Are they all still coming for dessert?”
Takeda handed her a cold glass of water and checked his phone. “Seems like it. Your Mom says they’re on the way. Bodhi’s driving. Apparently, they’re picking up Luke and his new girlfriend.”
“New girlfriend? Is she Careen approved?” Holly drained the glass of water and handed it back to him.
“I would assume so. No one gets to Luke without that,” Takeda said.
“Tak, I swear, if Bodhi is wearing a Santa hat–”
The growl of an engine came from outside.
“Sounds like Sheila. Why don’t you grab a couple of beers and sit outside for a few before the whole crew gets here? You two hardly get to hang out anymore. Now that Scott is in Maui, I worry about Sheila,” Holly said, sliding the rest of the cookies onto a plate.
“Don’t you want some help in here, baby?” Takeda said, rubbing her shoulders. Holly closed her eyes, head leaning back into him.
“Unka Sheila is here!” Ember yelled.
“Take some cookies, too. He’s always hungry,” Holly said, patting him on the thigh and pointing to a little plate.
Takeda walked down the front steps of their small two-bedroom house and met the crimson GTO in the driveway, parked just behind a shiny red tricycle.
“That’s a mean machine. Yours?” Sheila said, closing the door with a thunk.
“Yup. Driver is, too,” Takeda said, handing him a beer.
“Is this guy time?” Sheila said. “Christmas cookies, too? It must be,” the big man laughed.
“No one’s here yet, and Holly’s finishing some stuff.”
As if on cue, Holly opened a window. “Merry Christmas, Sheila. Tak, show him the tree.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, honey,” Sheila said, tipping the beer bottle in her direction. Holly blew him a kiss and slipped back inside.
They walked together around the back of the house. “You talk to Scott lately? We catch a word from him here and there,” Takeda said, moving a plastic toy bucket out of the way with his foot.
Sheila took a pull from the beer. “Messaged me today with that mele kalikimaka stuff. Gone all in on this Hawaiian thing. Mostly laying low, though, and still developing the counter-op team. He don’t talk much, less than me, even. But the loss of Wake is still fresh. He gone do whatever it takes to ensure nothing like that happens to us or anyone he cares about.”
“I can tell you miss him. Ever thought about joining him out there?” Takeda said.
“I don’t fly,” Sheila said flatly as they shuffled through leaves. “Hell if this ain’t another Christmas without snow.” Neither of them spoke for a moment. They could hear Ember’s muffled laughter. “Well, holy she-it. Would you look at that.”
In the center of the little fenced-in backyard was a seven-foot-tall pine tree. Each branch had the same decoration: a tiny disco ball.
“Hold on, you have to get the whole effect,” Takeda said, plugging in an extension cord. Each of the ornaments began turning, their tiny reflective panels twinkling silver, red, and green. ‘Turn the Beat Around’ started playing.
Sheila took a half step forward, the colors lighting up his broad face. Takeda saw tears there before he cleared his throat and said, “You must be a hit with the neighbors.”
“Ah, they don’t mind,” Takeda said.
“I think Wake would approve; I hope the trees do, too,” Sheila said.
Takeda patted him on the back. “Indeed, they both do.”
If you made it through that piece and would like to read the full novel, get started here: Song of the Red-Legged Birds. It’s free. Or a present. You don’t have to get me anything. Happy Holidays!