Thanksgiving arrived and Mike was standing behind the counter at the gas station early in the evening. He let Abe, his one and only employee, time off for the holiday weekend. Mike himself had no plans. He had a microwave turkey dinner waiting for him at home. He took a drink from the open diet Dr. Pepper and rose from the stool he was perched on. He went into the storage room where the broom and mop were housed. A bucket balanced in a sink and on the shelf above it were cleaning supplies. He picked up the large push broom and started sweeping.
The day had been quiet. In fact, since his mom left to visit his uncle, the whole town had been pretty silent. The street running before his store is lined with lampposts without the candles that were meant to be in them. The mini mart was busy as was the gas station but people that came in were quiet and not very talkative. Even the businesspeople that managed the establishments around his were not very chatty. Yes, they waved to him but that was about it. Even Louise across the street in her bakery just waved. The very same mindset embedded itself into his own brain. He kept to himself. He walked home, walked to work and waved only if someone waved to him. He turned the corner to sweep across the back aisle of the store when the bell that hung over the entry door jingled. He immediately turned up the middle aisle as he swept toward the front of the store. Standing, waiting by the counter stood a woman, a young woman, and she turned to look at him as Mike leaned the broom against the stack of bread that filled the endcap at the beginning of the aisle.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Maybe, but I know I can help you,” she smiled at Mike.
“Really?” Mike stated as he walked around the counter, folded his arms upon it and looked at her more closely. Her eyes sparkled green and her smile drew up toward them. She wore a yellow jacket that she had pulled the hood over her head causing her curly blond hair to frame her face. Her skin was olive colored and he wondered if she had some Indian in her. The jacket was zipped, and her hands were in the pockets. She turned, leaned against the counter still smiling at him. Mike smiled back.
“Finally,” she said. “Mike, I was beginning to think you weren’t going to smile.”
Mike’s smile ended and he looked back at her.
“Oops, I shouldn’t have said your name. I am sorry,” the young woman squared herself and removed the hood revealing the blond curls that fell past her shoulders. She offered her hand toward him. “My name is Kristy and I really am here to help you. Well, not just you really, but the entire town. This place needs a good kick. Are you going to shake my hand?”
Mike squinted at her a moment and slowly reached up and touched her hand to shake it. As he did so, a warm wave tingled his fingertips, ran up his arm quickly to his shoulder and slowly faded away. Kristy shook his hand firmly, still smiling, and allowed him to take his time to let go.
She leaned a little closer and whispered to him, “There is hope for you yet.”
“I don’t understand” he responded and let go of her hand. “What can I do for you?”
“Kristy. I am called Kristy.”
“Kristy,” he started over. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, Mike, right now all I need is your permission.”
“For what?”
“To let me put a kettle in front of your store and, well, change your town.”
“Change Candlelight? What’s wrong with it? It is just a small, quiet farm town.”
“But Mike, it started out with so much hope,” Kristy placed her hands back in her jacket pockets. “Do I have your permission?”
“What do you mean?” Mike asked in confusion.
She smiled at him, “Do I have your permission?”
“Yes,” he shrugged. “I mean, I guess so.”
“Good,” She replaced the hood on her head and started toward the door. “I will see you tomorrow.”
“But wait,” Mike started around the counter. “What do you mean Candlelight needs to change?”
Kristy paused at the door causing Mike to stop in his footsteps.
“Don’t worry, Michael,” she pushed open the door and stepped outside. “All will be well, time will tell.”
For a second Mike stared at the door as the bell slowly stopped jingling and then he rushed forward to push it open. On the sidewalk outside the door, he looked left, then right, and all he could see was the quiet street lined with lampposts that were mysteriously filled with candlelight.
Mike woke up early the next morning because he had given Abe the day off, well, the whole Thanksgiving weekend to spend with his family. He laid in bed thinking about what he fell asleep thinking, just who is this Kristy person. His memory kept rewinding around her smile, her eyes, her face, her hair but mostly on her strange question – do I have your permission? He knows it is more than what her explanation made it seem to be because she simply could have done it. What was she really asking permission for and where had she disappeared to so quickly? Who was this person?
He rubbed his eyes and pulled the blanket off of himself and stepped onto the floor. He left the room and strode into the bathroom at the end of the hall. He had left the light on as he was used to doing from days past and after doing his business, he turned on the shower. While the water warmed, he stared at himself in the mirror. His hair, a little long in the back as he liked it and he watched his mouth smile back at him. He reminded himself of his dad, a strong chin, squarish face, and light blue eyes, He shrugged, deciding not to shave, he turned his attention to the shower. He put his hand beneath the water and decided it was warm enough.
After he had dressed in blue jeans and a flannel shirt, he lowered himself down the stairs and into the kitchen. He reached around the corner, feeling for the light switch, and turned it on. The overhead light snapped on and what was dark was enlightened. He walked to the refrigerator to pull out the container of milk and the jug of V8 juice. He had placed a cereal bowl, spoon, and of course, his favorite cereal on the table before he turned in for bed the previous night. He sat and poured the cereal into the bowl. He poured some milk over it and took a drink from the V8 bottle. He used the spoon and took his first bite and listened to the crunch he made as he chewed. He glanced at the clock centered on the wall above the sink. It was 6:30. He had to get going in order to open up the store at 7:00. He finished his cereal, gulping down the milk left in the bowl. He took a swig from the milk jug and then another from the V8 container before he returned them to the refrigerator. He rinsed the bowl and the spoon and put them in the dishwasher. He left the kitchen dragging his hand along the wall and snapped off the light.
A dim light illuminated the living room from the windows in it. He paused at the coat closet stationed at the right-hand wall to the entrance door. He pulled on a jacket, opened the front door, and entered the early morning light. It was chilly, just enough for him to see his breath. To his right, where the sun would rise, the sky was beginning to merge from the gray of the night to the pink of morning. He began his walk to the store. He turned left at the corner and crossed the street to be on the same side as the building he worked in as the sky began to turn from a pink to a pale yellow. Mike walked on as the sky brightened, head down with purpose in his steps when he heard the tinkling of a bell. It sounded with a tempo and then he heard a clear voice singing. He looked up and spied, in front of the gas station on the sidewalk before it, as the sunlight completely brightened the street, the girl waving her bell. He picked up his pace and the song became clearer, a Christmas carol, a hymn, “Joy to the World”. Mike stopped when he came upon her. She smiled at him as she sang the song. Her voice was perfect, strong, and clear, a soprano’s voice he thought but maybe not.
“…The earth receive her King. Let every heart, prepare Him room,” she stopped. “Do you want to sing along?”
“No,” Mike answered as her bell kept the tempo. “ What are you doing?
“Singing.”
“It is seven in the morning. You will wake everyone.”
“The sun is shining. It is a beautiful morning, why not sing?” she asked as she stopped ringing her bell. “You did give me permission, didn’t you?”
Mike paused before answering. He looked away from her and looked up and down the street. The lamppost candles were still lit, and they seemed to be full size. He turned to look at her. Her eyes waited for his response.
“Yes, yes. I did.” He turned toward the front door of the store. “But can the bell wait until 9:00?”
“OK, Michael, the bell can wait,” she called after him. “But I will have to start singing the song from the beginning.”
He simply waved back and heard in the clear, strong voice, “Joy to the World, the Lord is come, let earth receive her king!”
Across the street, from a window above the bakery, Louise had been watching the scene below wondering what was going on. As she watched Mike walk toward the door to the mini mart, the singing woman turned and looked up directly at her and smiled. Lou dropped the curtain and it recovered the window.
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