continued...
“Well,” I began cautiously, “he’d probably love to take part. He likes having a job to do. But maybe you’d better meet him before we come to a final decision.”
Ron’s voice lightened several degrees. I realised he had been anxious.
“Oh yes! I’d love to. We’ll be doing the play several times and, of course, we’d want him to take part in the final rehearsals as well. He would need to be friendly and obedient. But I hear very good things about him.”
What have I got into? I thought. Who’s going to walk Edward into town and back, besides looking after him while he’s there? But nothing could stop Ron now. An interview was quickly set up and, when I went out to feed the chickens, I told Edward all about his possible future. A casting call.
What excitement I felt on his behalf! I rubbed his woolly head and gave him a carrot. He was pleased with the attention and took a run around the field’s perimeter before returning to lay his head on my shoulder and huff gently in my ear to show his approval.
Ron arrived promptly that afternoon. He was bundled up against the snow, his face rosy and his eyes bright from cold. We went straight to the field, where Ron, on my advice, approached Edward slowly holding out some pieces of apple. He seemed to have a natural affinity with animals, speaking to Edward quietly. They soon made friends and I was relieved when he said he would collect Edward himself and bring him home each time he was needed. Once back in the house, I saw that Ron was younger than I’d first supposed, tall, fair and very thin when he discarded his puffy coat.
Over a cup of tea, he told me a little about himself. “I’ve worked in theatre, mostly with children, ever since I graduated seven years ago.”
Ron rubbed his nose and gave a wry smile. “Though it’s not very lucrative, I’ve been lucky to have a job most of the time. I came down here because a friend asked me to do a couple of plays with the kids.”
“My daughter, Megan’s taking theatre arts at College this year.” I replied. “Perhaps you’ll meet over the holiday.”
On several days in the next couple of weeks Edward happily donned his seldom used harness and saddle and accompanied Ron to the bright lights of a theatrical life. I heard that he behaved impeccably and had become a prime favourite with everyone involved with the production. Ron’s idea was that Edward, Mary and Joseph would make their way to Bethlehem through the streets of the town gathering members of the audience on the way to the church where they were performing. They had given a couple of shows in the days before the holiday, but I decided to attend the last one on Christmas Eve, when Meg could be with me.
Snow was falling lazily. Glittering showers floated in the light of the street lamps powdering a large crowd of people who had come out to celebrate Christmas by attending the play and the carol service that would follow it. Mary, in traditional blue, rode Edward. He was proud to carry her. He danced through the snow, as he followed Joseph down the street.
When people called out, he turned his head to nod at them, his big ears waggling and his dark eyes seeking out each new admirer. Stuffed sheep had been borrowed from an upscale store dealing in sheepskins and two oxen had been painted on to the back drop which sealed off the inner doors to the church making a stage of the large porch. Edward was the only live animal taking part. With no rival he could take his place as one of the stars of the show.
The children presented the Christmas story clearly and with grace. Edward standing just outside the doors with the audience was the perfect extra.
His head turned to each character as they spoke, but otherwise he kept still. Mary and Joseph met the innkeeper, were turned away from the inn and directed to the stable. The shepherds arrived, sheep under their arms, and pushed through the audience to enter the porch. Then the three Kings, in shimmering robes, carrying their elaborate caskets, joined the stable scene. The choir, mingled with the audience, sang ‘O little Town of Bethlehem’, encouraging people to join in. Just as everyone was about to applaud, a messenger ran in shouting news of Herod’s atrocities—the slaughter of the innocents. Joseph and Mary were urged to flee. Mary mounted Edward once more and the Holy Family was escorted by the other characters back to the streets. The backdrop and props were removed from the porch and the audience entered for the carol service.
I didn’t follow them. Around the back of the church the children were running in and out of the vestry, where they were changing out of their costumes. Edward was waiting patiently for whatever came next. Meg and I watched the children, still hopping about with excitement. The inevitable low which follows the end of a successful performance hadn’t hit them yet. Ron came up to thank me and to say farewell to Edward. Impetuously, I invited him to a party I planned to give on New Year’s Eve. Then Meg and I led Edward away, home to his field.
I expected about thirty people on the evening of December 31st. Meg came back for the weekend and helped me prepare the food. She’s a great cook, as well as a promising actress. She didn’t have time to spend with Edward that day, nor did I, though I’d put some hay in his barn for him. By six-o-clock we were all ready, the food and drink set out and the lights on. The long drive was dark; I couldn’t do much about that. The guests arrived in dribs and drabs, but by eight nearly everyone was present. Cars parked all along the drive nearly to the road.
Harry and Janice, newcomers to the town, were the last to arrive. When they rang the bell, I went to welcome them, but before I could get there the bell rang again—and again. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” I muttered, “What’s your problem? It won’t kill you to wait a few moments.”
Even as I opened the door, Janice burst out, “You know this is a very spooky neighbourhood? I tell you—someone followed us all the way up the drive! I could hear his heavy breathing and stealthy footsteps.”
Gingerly I peered past them into the dark. I had my suspicions… though I could hardly believe that Edward had escaped his frozen pen. But over Janice’s shoulder, a ghostly face with black holes for eyes and a long, melancholy nose, drifted to the edge of the porch lights. Before he could
give joyful voice or attempt to enter the house, I shut the door firmly.
I found Megan and Ron arguing in the kitchen. Meg was lit up—words shooting from her like fire-works. Ron towered over her even though he was leaning against the counter.
“I see the practical side of it—of course I do. But bringing Herod into it shatters the Christmas peace. I like traditional at Christmas.”
Ron was unperturbed. “Christmas has to exist in the world as we know it.
It was a neat way to move the actors off stage, as well as reminding the
audience that the birth took place in an era as turbulent as our own.”
“Meg!” I broke in. “Save the arguments for later. Edward is out! Please go get him back right now.”
They both went out to find our errant donkey. Later they told me they had been unable to find his means of exit but that they’d lured him to his barn with extra food and treats.
However, in the next few weeks, Edward managed to leave his paddock several times and, since he was a danger on the road both to himself and any unwary drivers he met, I knew I was going to have to do something about the situation. Two of these escapades resulted in irate calls from neighbours and the police very late at night, which persuaded me that drastic measures were in order. However, one afternoon in February, I did find out how he was escaping. In the far corner of his field near the road there was a slight hollow, where in summer he liked to roll in the dusty grass, but now he was using it as a path to freedom. Lying flat, front legs stretched forward and back ones dragging behind him, he wiggled his body patiently on the crusted snow until he slid out under the fence and emerged into a shallow ditch. Then, he kicked up his heels merrily and trotted off down the road.
Meg was due to visit that weekend so I called her on Friday to tell her we needed to strengthen the fence, to bring the wire right down to the ground and bury it as deep as the weather would allow.
“That sounds like quite a project,” was her response. “Lucky I was going to bring a friend home this time. He can help out.”
When she arrived later that evening, I was surprised to find it was Ron Greene she had in tow. Their first concern was to visit with Edward and make sure that he was safely shut into his barn for the night, but when they returned they were ready to talk.
Meg began. “Remember I told you, the Lantern Theatre wanted some young people for ‘Spring Awakening’ and I got a part? That’s when I met up with Ron again. He was working on the same production.”
“We seldom seem to agree but I guess our discussions have kept us engaged!” said Ron. “They’ve become very important—essential really.”
“See, Mom? We think it’ll be much easier on both of us, if we share an apartment.”
Things had obviously raced along since Christmas. Here we were, not much more than six weeks later, and they were ready to move in together! I had my doubts about their prospects, but it takes a foolhardy mother to interfere in these matters, so I kept my reservations to myself. We spent the weekend making Edward’s field more secure. And, I must say, they laughed as often as they disagreed, enjoying the physical labour and working well together.
By April I’d grown accustomed to their relationship, which now seemed quite settled. Working in the theatre didn’t allow them an extravagant life-style, but they were happy. On the other hand, Edward and I still had problems. Our winter repairs had been successful, but I had a nasty feeling that Edward, full of the joys of spring, was looking for another way out. Then I heard that the horses we’d boarded in the past, were not returning for the summer. He was going to be as lonely as ever.
One night in May the telephone rang.
“Hey Nina!” said Ron. “Has Edward had ever been a companion to sheep?”
“Actually, yes. That was his job on my uncle’s farm.”
“My cousin’s got a problem with coyotes and is looking for a donkey to protect her flock. Would Edward like the job?”
Shortly afterwards, Edward returned to farm life. We visited at Christmas, wondering if he hankered after his glamorous, if fleeting, time as a star of the stage, but he seemed happy with his real-life sheep. The next year we weren’t able to go, though we heard from his new owner that all was well.
We were busy preparing for a different event. Right on time, on Christmas Eve, I received a call from Ron to say that I’d become a grandmother, Meg was well and that, of course, they were calling the baby Edward.