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The next morning I had to drive the truck over to town hall by eight in the morning. There were a bunch of people milling around as I pulled into the parking lot at 7:45. After filling out more contest paperwork at the event registration desk volunteers instructed me to park in slot number 38.
I drove around the parking lot until I found the hand drawn paper taped to the ground before my parking space. I was starting to get nervous. Most years there were only 30 or 40 entries, but it was 7:55 and the registration desk still had a long line of cars behind it. I was sure there were at least 50 entries by now. That was pretty big for our small town.
Each year there were a bunch of vendors out on the front lawn of town hall. The large space allowed for many town businesses to set up shop and sell food, art, and other wares. I found Mom and Daniel standing in line to buy cinnamon rolls. We also purchased some hot chocolate. We continued to browse around the booths until they announced the first round of judging.
Everyone knew the first round was the elimination round. Half of the cars were weeded out and told to vacate the lot. I held onto Mom and Daniel's hands as we waited for them to pass over my name. Finally, the list of cuts was finished and I was still in the running.
During this round people were allowed to stroll around the parking lot and look at the entries for an hour or so until the judging started again.
We wandered around checking out the competition. The first thing I noticed was that none of the entries had a glowing nose. They had those fake store bought noses. I thought that they all looked ugly, of course.
Someone had painted different scenes of Rudolph on every panel of their old Ford, and they were nice paintings too! There was one of Rudolf being shunned by other reindeers because his nose revealed the position of their hiding place while they were playing games. Another painting showed how his nose lit up the way through the fog. My favorite one had a warm and gentle Santa asking an abashed Rudolf for his help. A few cars had gone the painting route but the Ford took the cake in that category with no sweat.
Most people had attached a cheap plastic Rudolf to the front of their car. He hung out there in various poses of leaping and jumping, looking like he had come straight out of a craft store. Though one guy had put an ice sculpture of the reindeer in the back of his truck. The most hilarious one was of someone whose entire car was styled after Rudolf's nose. It was covered in red Christmas tree lights and glowed so bright that it hurt to look at it straight on.
I looked for the Hunt's entry and knew it would pass onto the next round. Mr. Hunt had worked his green thumb magic and created the form of a reindeer out of willow branches. A bright red holly berry served as the nose, and white Black-eyed Susans for the eyes. Chains of ivy served as reigns attaching the flying Rudolf to his car. The entire display was masterful.
They announced second cuts two hours later. I was still in the running. There were only ten cars left in the ranks. I had to admit that I let out a victory whoop. I watched Mom sip her hot chocolate and imagined her shopping for a fancy new dress. I imagined playing the Wii for hours with my little brother.
You would think that the crowds would get smaller at the end of the day, but they didn't. More people packed onto the grounds, enjoying the live Christmas music. The high school and church choirs alternated singing Christmas carols. People milled around chatting, dancing, eating, mingling and having fun. Finally it was time to announce the top three.
"Tom Stewart, Don Hunt, Mary Klien." Were the three names the called out.
"That's me!" I said. "I'm Tom. Mom I'm in the top three."
My mom laughed. "I know, I know, go up there. They are calling you."
We all stood on the platform and they asked us to introduce ourselves, and talk about our cars. It was fun to hear Mr. Hunt talk about owning a flower shop, and how he had made his Rudolf all out of plant materials. Mary was an artist, which explained why she had decided to cover her old Ford with paintings.
After this they asked us what we would do with the prize money. I told them that I planned to get special Christmas gifts for my family this year. Mary was wanted to put her money back into the car for repairs.
Don went quiet before he answered. "We will use the money to settle some of our financial obligations."
Uneasiness churned my stomach, because I knew his family was trying to pay off that pile of bills I saw. Here I was thinking about playing video games when Mr. Hunt was about to lose his home. Plus, Mrs. Hunt helped me with my car design, and without her it wouldn't have been nearly as cool. My heart twisted in my chest, as I realized that Mr. Hunt needed the money much more than I did. Man, I wished we could both win.
The mayor cleared his throat. "Well, I have the judging result in hand here. May the best car win."
The crowd hushed with silence, the sound of crinkling paper sounded over the microphone as the mayor opened a single white envelope. I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and hunched over, trying to ward off the cold and the coming announcement.
"The winner is Tom! Congratulations Tom," he announced.
I stared out at the crowd for an awkward length of time before I remembered to jerk my hands out of my pockets to accept the mayor's handshake. I had convinced myself that Mr. Hunt would win. His entry was beautiful after all, a real piece of art, as was Mrs. Kline's Ford.
When the photographer took our pictures I tried to smile naturally, but I felt like a fake. The mayor handed me an envelope and everyone was free to disperse. Though, the choir and music would go until 9:00 in the evening. Suddenly, I was exhausted and unsure of what I wanted. So I found Mom and Daniel and we decided to head home.
In the car on the way home my mom was subdued. "I heard that the Hunts were losing their house. Might even lose the store."
"Mrs. Hunt gave me the idea for how to make my glowing nose," I said. "When I went in the shop for the poinsettias."
"She really is the nicest lady."
No one said anything the rest of the way home. We were all thinking the same thing I think. We had all been down because dad wasn't coming home this year. We hadn't talked much about it, but we had all been sulking. Then our Christmas tree had burned, and there had been an empty feeling in the house ever since.
I had wanted to win the contest to compensate. Now, I could only think about how grateful I was that our financial situation was safe and secure. I was more grateful than ever that my dad worked hard for us, and that we had what we needed: food, shelter, security, each other.
That night I made a decision. The next morning I didn't sleep in like I typically did on Saturday. I ran to the bank to trade the check in for cash. Then I drove over to the Hunt's flower shop. As I walked in the door sounded a merry "Ho! Ho! Ho!" again. The Christmas tree with flower ornaments still stood at the center of the store.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Hunt were at the counter together looking over some papers. I pulled the cash out of my pocket and slapped it down on the counter.
"I'd like to buy that five hundred dollar Christmas tree," I said pointing to it.
Both their heads shot up, their faces so full of surprise that I wanted to laugh. This was going to be fun.
"The tree isn't worth 500 dollars," Mr. Hunt said. "Maybe $200."
Could you believe this guy? I was trying to drop 500 dollars in his lap and he was being all honest.
"Nope. The beaut is worth 500 dollars," I said.
Mrs. Hunt laughed. I could see that she got it.
Mr. Hunt sputtered. "No-no really-"
"Don," Mrs. Hunt said gently. "I think we should accept 500 dollars for the tree."
Mr. Hunt looked at me. "This is the prize money isn't it?"
I thought about not answering, but there was something piercing in his gaze. "Yes."
His eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," he whispered.
He accepted the money and we made arrangements for the tree to be delivered that afternoon. As I l
eft the store I heard Mrs. Hunt ask her husband. "Will it be enough?"
"Yes," Mr. Hunt answered. "Now, it will be enough."
End
About the Author
Emily Debenham grew up in the state of Utah where she attended Brigham Young University. She double majored in Latin and History teaching, and met her husband at a science fiction and fantasy writing group. She taught high school Latin for two years before she had a beautiful baby girl, who is now her full time job. She loves to read, write, cook, and sew. Check out what she is reading at Gamila's Book Review.
For up to date news and information on her stories visit her at Wandering Leaf Publishing.
Other Books by Emily Debenham
The Missing Figurine
The Shoe App
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