Christmas Chaos

Marion Kelley Bullock

Chapter One

"Surely I can find one medium-sized boy and two large beasts before they cause irreparable damage." Grace Gary groaned. She swerved around the electric company's big lift truck and watched one of the workers lift a string of lights to the tall utility pole. Another reminder that Christmas bore down on her.

She gripped the steering wheel with a vengeance, trying to scan all directions at once. She zigzagged up one residential street and down another, combing the area surrounding her home. Where could they be?

"Grrr." She gritted her teeth. Battling tears she refused to shed, she cut a sharp turn onto Fifth Street and then down Pine and then Sixth. The brakes squealed, reminding her that her faded blue Maverick was on its last legs, no pun intended.

Helga, the twins' babysitter, had called her at work with dire news. "The pigs got out and went galloping down the road. Paul's trying to catch them."

Grace had grabbed her purse and slipped out like a thief in the night. What else could she do? Of course, Howard had eyes in the back of his head. He'd make her pay. It was all her fault. Paul was a child. She was supposed to be the mother, the wise one. His only parent. Whatever had possessed her to allow her twelve-year-old son to undertake such a demanding 4-H project... by himself? With no acreage and no money to build a proper pig fence.

Too little salary... too much month. Easy to agree -- even to encourage -- his dream of raising pigs, so he could win the local stock show and then Grand Champion at State. So he could pay off their mortgage. Desperation, that's what it was. She had let his dream become her goal. A way out.

She turned the corner, going down Chestnut. "Oh..." There they were, right in front of her. Frustration and relief mingled, making her weak in the knees. She rolled down her window and slowed. The pigs' short little legs churned in the crisp winter air, and their hooves clip-clopped on the pavement as Paul waved a long stick. Paul, himself, looked like a twelve-year-old bum in his dirty pig training clothes. She sighed, and her warm breath misted the windshield.

Grace coasted along. If she drove up beside them, they might panic and take off again.

Paul turned and waved. "It's okay, Mom. We're almost home. You can go back to work." His grin proclaimed confidence.

"All right." She pasted a smile on her face, rolled up her window, and turned back toward Windhurst Savings and Loan.

It wasn't all right... not really. It wasn't a sure thing they'd win anything. In the meantime, the pigs were growing and pushing against Paul's pitiful fence. She might as well admit she'd been holding her breath for fear they'd break through. Now her fears had been realized. Paul's faith had kept them going up to now. How much longer could he hold out?

She must get the loan. She had to get the loan. Then she could afford to set up her home-based bookkeeping business. Paul's pigs would still be important, but they wouldn't be her only chance.

If only she still believed in God, she'd pray.