Abandoned Sheep
Steven Reis
December 24, 2024
The golden light of late afternoon trickled between the few leaves left on trees.
Across the quiet street, inflatable Santa and other cartoonish figures waved gently in the cool air blowing from the north.
She stared at the colorful characters from her porch as she sipped hot cocoa.
Bits of white marshmallow floated and stuck to ceramic sides of the brown mug.
Her mind drifted.
So many thoughts came unbidden and wove a chaotic tapestry.
She sipped absently.
Quick movement from across the tree-lined street caught her eye.
A figure had fallen to the side and suddenly stood erect.
The eyes. They seemed to be staring across the emptiness. At her.
A few dried leaves fell to the browning grass.
A chill went through her as she thought back to a different time in her life...
nnnnnn
The boy was being roughly directed through a staring crowd of shoppers.
The blocky, uniformed man held him by the right upper arm.
He wasn't smiling. Neither was the boy. They didn't speak as they moved to an innocuous office in the corner of the large store.
"Get in here," the man's deep voice rasped as he pushed the metal door open.
The boy pulled away slightly but the man's grip was firm and unyielding.
"In," he repeated.
The girl watched from a safe distance. She had followed them through the decorated aisles as Christmas music played from unseen speakers.
The door remained open and she saw that the boy was seated on a nondescript grey, faux leather chair as the man took his own seat before a black and white surveillance monitor.
No one else was in the small office.
"Can my sister come in with me?" the boy asked in a quavering voice.
"No," came the reply, "she can wait out there."
She did.
"Who are your parents?" the man asked as he pulled a yellowed, grime covered handset from it's receiver on the metal desk.
The man had placed a small backpack on the desk next to the telephone.
The boy looked down at his lap as he told the man his father's name and phone number.
With a grunt, the man began dialing.
The phone seemed to click loudly as his finger spun through seven digits.
He turned his back to the door as he finally spoke to someone.
He hung up and turned back to the boy who was beginning to shake slightly.
"He's going to be here soon," said the man.
He began removing items from the now open backpack as the boy glanced up and then back down to his lap.
"It's just some stuff I was getting for Christmas," offered the boy.
"Shut up, kid," said the man as he rounded on the boy, "did I ask you anything?
"No, sir."
"Then just sit there and don't say anything unless I do."
He continued pulling small items from the canvas bag and lining them up on the desk.
She remained outside the room for what seemed like hours.
Finally, father arrived.
He barely glanced at her; going directly into the small office, closing the door behind him.
She heard his loud voice.
Then silence.
The door quickly opened.
The boy walked out - wiping away tears.
Father followed - turning back to the other man still seated.
"I'll take care of it," he said.
Then looking at her brother, "come with me."
He turned to her as she tried to disappear into the wall.
"You, too," he said.
They marched outside the store to a waiting car.
The engine - still running.
Mother was seated in front.
She watched as they approached; then dropped her shaking head.
The drive home was quiet.
Her brother's chest slightly heaved with silent sobs.
She didn't know what else to do so she began crying.
Quietly. Holding her face in her hands...
nnnnnn
He'd taken all the blame, she remembered.
He'd done nothing.
It had been her crime.
He'd covered.
He didn't have to. But he did.
She looked again at the swaying figure across the street.
Eyes still stared in gathering darkness.
They accused her now.
She sipped from the mug in her right hand.
The earthy odor of warm liquid comforted her.
Her thoughts turned back to a classroom earlier this day…
nnnnnn
Chaotic movement, high-pitched voices talking over one another, and the smell of Elmer's glue and Play-Doh filled the room.
Eighteen children sat in miniature plastic chairs at low wooden tables.
Well, "sat" might be an exaggeration.
Their bodies squirmed and seemed to float above the chairs.
They popped up, then plopped down.
Stillness did not exist in this room.
Nor, frankly, did silence.
"Miss! Miss!" came a voice from one of the chairs, "can you help me with my camel?"
"Miss! Miss! Miss!" came another voice from the opposite side of the room, "I got Play-Doh on my sweater!"
A cacophony of voices rose and swelled in time with small, moving bodies.
"He took my paper!"
"I need scissors!"
"Yuck! Glue all over me!"
"I have to pee!"
"Don't say pee - that's nasty - say number one!"
"Look, I made a worm!"
She laughed - moving from table to table.
She pulled colored Play-Doh from a Christmas sweater; returned paper; found scissors.
She directed a little boy to the in-class restroom and admired a long, blue worm a boy was rolling back and forth with his palms across a table top.
Finally, she helped glue a construction paper camel to a popsicle stick.
"Let's have story time," she announced when the youngster returned from his 'number one.'
"Remember to zip up your pants," she told the boy as he made his way to his seat.
The children giggled as he looked down and adjusted the opening.
The roomful of children then began a chant, "Sto-ry, sto-ry, sto-ry!"
"Shhh," she motioned with fingertip to lips, "we first have to be quiet."
The bodies settled into seats and quietened somewhat.
She began.
"Once upon a time....”
She told a story about the first Christmas in a way their young minds might understand.
She told of a boy and a girl riding a small grey donkey, a baby born in a hay barn, and a bright star in a black sky.
She told about kings with gifts and men taking care of sheep as angels appeared like magic.
She told of animals in the barn and in the field - dogs, cats, cows, pigs and camels.
"Like mine!" chimed one of the little girls.
"Yes, sweetie, like your camel," she smiled.
Then, as she finished and prepared to have them remove coats and jackets from waiting pegs, one of the boys raised his hand and began excitedly seeking her attention.
"Miss! Miss! I have a question!"
She smiled at him.
"What is it sweetie?
Did you need to go to the restroom again?"
The boy dropped his hand, shook his head, and looked at her intently.
"What happened to the sheep?"
"Excuse me?" she said.
"What happened to the sheep?"
"What do you mean?”
"The sheep. You know.
What happened to the sheep?
When the men left them in the field to go see the baby.
What happened to them? The sheep..."
nnnnnn
Her now-cold mug of cocoa in hand, she pondered that question from earlier in the day.
She'd given a simplistic answer to the boy.
It satisfied him, but it wasn't really satisfying.
She'd told him sheep slept until the shepherds came back.
But thinking about it, the query still nagged at her.
What DID happen to the sheep when they were abandoned?
They'd been left in the dark. Unprotected.
Alone.
Glancing at the swaying inflatable across the street, she saw it was internally lit in the darkness.
Still, the eyes locked on her.
Someone moved along the sidewalk across the street.
Silhouetted by the glowing blow-up character, he looked at her across the distance.
He stopped.
She couldn't make out who it was.
She waved silently.
And tentatively.
He raised a hand in return; then moved into darkness out of view.
Peering after the retreating person, her mind drifted again.
Drifted to tomorrow.
To a decision...
nnnnnn
She sat in a small conference room.
Muted colors.
Quiet, nondescript music.
Seashell and sunset paintings on the walls.
Her fingernails gently scratched at the rough fabric of the cloth-covered armchair.
The middle-aged doctor had kind eyes.
He patiently waited for her response.
"Can I be in the room with him at the end?" she asked.
His eyes closed gently for a moment as he nodded assent.
"Of course," he said.
His warm baritone voice held concern.
"We”ll have a comfortable chair by his side for you."
A brief smile touched her face as she thanked him.
"Then, yes," she said quietly, "I need to let him go.
When will this happen?" she asked.
"I can make the arrangements now, if you want," he told her.
He waited.
She looked up from the wood grain pattern of the table.
Her lips tightened as she closed her eyes with a silent nod.
His soft-soled shoes made no noise as he left the room.
She would be the last.
Their parents were gone.
He'd been their favorite - the one who seemed to do no wrong.
He'd always been there for her - through youthful indiscretion, failed marriage, miscarriages.
He'd never called her on the bad choices in her life.
He would just hold her through tears.
He was the rock. Not her.
Then this. No one could tell her the cause.
Some kind of viral infection?
Some anomalous thing?
Who knew. But they offered her no hope.
He'd been gone from her for months.
He wasn't coming back. It was time.
She would sit by his side, hold his motionless hand, and watch him breath slowly until he stopped all together.
The music faded and she could only hear the scratching as her fingernails played against the fabric of the armchair....
nnnnnn
She felt pressure in her chest building at thoughts of tomorrow.
A rumble of thunder brought her back from her reverie about a dim future.
She looked at the sky above the figures of swaying reindeer across the street.
Stars were visible. No lightning.
Her weather app said it might rain later; but nothing yet.
No smell of rain - just the slightly floral odor wafting from the empty mug.
She sat it gently on the flat wooden arm of the porch swing.
It was time to go inside - she was getting cold.
Inside and out.
She exhaled and shook her head as that little boy's question came back to her.
About the sheep.
They'd been frightened by the same apparition as the shepherds.
Then they were abandoned in the still night.
Left alone.
Threatened by the unknown.
No idea what to do or what might happen, they'd simply cowered in darkness.
Waiting for... what?
Finally, they'd heard his voice.
It was one they recognized.
And they knew they were safe.
What happened to the sheep?
They were fine.
They didn't understand what was happening or why.
But their protector was now with them.
Fear vanished as though it hadn’t existed.
Again, her thoughts were interrupted.
A buzz and blinking light from the phone on the seat cushion announced a text message.
She picked up the device and stared at the small screen.
The glowing letters seemed to make no sense.
She continued staring without comprehension.
"Call me, sis,” the words read.
“Where are you?
No one will tell me anything.
Call. I need to hear your voice."
She glanced up as another deep rumble moved across the distant darkened horizon.
The man from earlier was moving past the glowing figures again.
He paused and looked in her direction.
She waved absently at him before grabbing up her phone to rush into the house.
She began laughing and entered the warm amber light of her home; leaving darkness behind.
She didn't understand what was happening.
But apparently tomorrow would be a different day than
imagined.
Maybe, just maybe, it would
be a good Christmas after all.