5 Minute Reads | Anthology

When Carol Sings by struckby_lightning

by struckby_lightning 

When Carol sings there is magic in the air, at least that's what my parents say to others.

"It's like heaven on earth you know, Mrs. Capulet!" My mother would sigh over her steaming coffee mug to the barista of our coffee shop.

But honestly, there was nothing special in Carol singing. I have always found it bland and boring. Her notes were fine, but I couldn't feel tingling on my skin or warmness in my heart.

Carol began showing signs of this divine talent when she was merely four. Again that's what I've been told.

Years ago on Christmas Eve, my father had his radio turned on. Irving Berlin was singing 'White Christmas' and so was little Carol. Of course, they would have been high pitched and broken, but nevertheless a four year old was singing 'Whit Christmas'. My father had called, "Martha! Come here!"

First with utter shock, then with a beam of pride Martha had decided that her Carol was made for singing.

Back now, when Carol was a month away from celebrating her sweet sixteen, the people of Everstown with their air of innocence and fallacy were waiting for the Christmas carol in the Moss Church. (It was covered with moss, that's why.)

Once again, it was always subtly hinted by my parents to the customers that everyone was actually waiting to hear Carol to sing. I would stifle a smile from my corner behind the counter, when an overworked John or a last minute Christmas shopping stressed Sandra would look at my parents with no clue who Carol is. Or what was special about her singing.

John and Sandra were from out of town.

"Stressed?"

"Annoyed is a better word."

I knew what the boy on the other side of the counter would want for his drink , I have known it for past four years.

"They wouldn't shut up about it." I bit my lip trying to let my steam go just like the steam from the boiling kettle.

Tom chuckled. Shoving his muffler protected hand into his coat pocket, he started to swing on his heels.

"What do you think about it?" I asked as I took the large cup from the shelf.

"Extra-large. "

I took the extra-large red cup and placed it on the counter, waiting for the coffee to be filtered.

"Good I guess, but I don't feel the 'magic' in the air." He quoted.

"Don't let my mother hear that." I exaggeratedly whispered.

He laughed ever so quietly.

The machine stopped humming and I took the cup of dark coffee from it.

"I believe your opinion is not too nice as mine."

I shrugged half shoulder. Adding the milk and a cube of sugar I pushed the cup towards him.

"Thanks. I will see you tonight." He sipped a sip and with a quick thumbs up moved towards the cashier.

By now I'm pretty sure even you are annoyed with Carol singing.

Imagine my annoyance even after a last minute coffee barista-ing I go to a house full of Marthas. My aunts and uncles.

I sighed and sighed when they went around and around their Carol singing tonight.

"So Aunt Ginny, how is your dog doing after the hit." I tried to distract her from Carol monologue.

"Good. Good. Pete is taking care of her. But I wish Lorrie wasn't hit just a week earlier or else she would have been hearing tonight's carols." Aunt Ginny with her wrinkled eyes leaned towards me and with a pulse of enthusiasm exclaimed, "I cannot wait for the carol."

There we go again.

Dreading the tonight show of 'splendid display of talent that media should cover instead of Best Sales this Christmas' (Uncle Marty's words) I belly flopped on my cold bed.

I heard my door creak open and then shut. My bed sunk beside me.

"Yeah?" My voice came out muffled through the sheets.

"Do I sing good?" came a tiny voice on the verge of crying.

I nodded with my face still buried in between the snow print sheets.

"But no one would hear me sing." A sniffle.

"You sing brilliant."

I pulled myself up and rolled over to meet the glassy eyes of my niece.

"You sing better than Carol." I grinned trying to lift her spirits.

She grinned back a toothless grin.

"Want to sing with me?"

She bobbed her head up and down, joy sparkling in her spring green eyes.

"Gail they ring, while people sing."

She sang, "Songs of good cheer, Christmas is here."

We got down from the bed and sang together, "Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas."

Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas.

Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas.

On on they send

On without end

Their joyful tone

To every home

We were laughing by the time of the Ding Dongs.

Maybe tonight's Carol would be good. Maybe I should take my niece, Alexi next year with me.

But we or rather I couldn't end the song because we had company peeping through the opened door with a silent laugh.

I was trying to dodge the rest of the Uncles and Aunts till we went to Moss Church.

But of course, I couldn't. Same monologue. Same 'can't wait to hear our Carol sing.'

My spirit which was just out of the closet after much struggle went back in, now under a secret trap door that even I wasn't aware of.

Soon everyone had seated themselves in the car on their way to hear the Carol. I was sunk in the back seat trying to zone out from my mother's sighing and dreamy talks.

In the church, Alexi wished me luck with a kiss on my cheek and ran off to her seat while I dragged my legs to the make shift back stage in the Church courtyard.

"Ah! There you are." Father Raymond dramatically welcomed me. His old eyes shimmered through his gold rimmed spectacles when he walked towards me.

"Yes I'm." I smiled.

I didn't have to see or hear to tell that more than half of the audience were excited for the first performance.

Yep, you guessed it. It is Carol caroling.

I walked up to the stage and took my place behind the microphone.

I told you there was nothing special with Carol singing. But I still don't get why Everstown gets excited with her singing.

But then with the microphone in my hand. Alexi beaming her toothless grin. Aunt Ginny clapping her hands. My mother tapping Mrs. Capulet to listen and Tom giving a thumbs up, I pulled out the spirit from the trap door.

There is nothing special with Carol singing.

And I began to sing.