Gorg tapped his chin with one finger. “I should like one more thing, Ebbie. I want a star for the top of the tree.”
“Oh, hell no! You only want a star because you saw my dad put one on top of the last tree my family decorated,” Ebenezer growled.
“Ebbie, shame on you. I want a star to show our baby where his or her Papa came from. I came from the stars, from another galaxy. The star represents his or her roots.”
Ebenezer felt doubtful that was the entire reason Gorg wanted the star, but under the circumstances, in a crowded store with lots of other shoppers who might overhear their conversation, he let it go. “Okay. They’re over here.”
Gorg found a crystal star that caught the light in a prism. “This one! This is it! Oh, Ebenezer, can you picture how beautiful it will be on top of the birth tree?”
Ebenezer nodded because it was true; the star was gorgeous. He placed it in the cart along with the rest of the merchandise.
“You mentioned you were going to make things for the tree. What do you need to do that?” Ebenezer asked.
“Oh, lots of things. Bits of cloth, ribbon, wood, metal…”
“Craft section, here we come,” Ebenezer said, very glad to be getting out of the holiday section. It made him nervous because he found himself reexamining why he still detested the holidays so much and was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, they might not be so bad if he shared them with Gorg.
From the craft section of the store, Gorg selected squares of colorful cloth meant for quilting, needles and thread, scissors, wooden plaques shaped like stars and hearts, paint, brushes, beads, and a myriad of other craft materials. He filled up the cart, so much so that Ebenezer had a hard time keeping stuff from spilling out as he pushed it.
“Is that it now? Do we have everything?” he asked Gorg.
“Oh, yes. I think we have plenty of things. Is there anything you want, my love? You mentioned egg salad and peanut butter earlier…”
“Ugh. No. I don’t want anything — well, actually, that’s a lie. I want a big jar of dill pickles, and a couple of cans of Spam.”
“What is Spam? I am unfamiliar with this substance.”
“It’s a canned meat. Very popular in Hawaii.” Ebenezer noticed a woman in the aisle glance at him. “Don’t judge me. I like Spam.”
“And so you shall have it,” Gorg said. He led Ebbie up and down the aisles, scanning the shelves until he found the small, oval cans of meat product. “Which one? There are many.”
Ebenezer considered his choices. “Oh! I want a teriyaki, a maple, and a hot and spicy.” He plucked the cans from the shelf and placed them on top of the craft materials in the cart. “Now we need pickles. And milk. We’re out of milk.”
They picked up the supplies and waited in a long line for checkout. To Ebenezer’s consternation, it took almost as long to check out as it had to pick up the merchandise.
He paid with his Amex again, then Gorg pushed the cart across the parking lot to the car. They loaded the trunk, and got in.
That’s when Ebenezer’s phone rang. “Hello?”
“Ebenezer? It’s Roger Atkins. I have some bad news for you.”
“Why am I not surprised, Roger? When have you ever called me withgoodnews?”
Chapter 10
“Never, to my knowledge,” Roger said after a short pause. “I’m callingthistime because Allen and his company, Humpalot Films, is suing you for breach of contract.”
“What? Why? They replaced me with the fluffer!”
“That’s not the point. You walked off set. You didn’t come back. You forced them to replace you. You’re in breach.” Roger cleared his throat. “The fact of the matter is that the company CEO is worried a film starring a nobody fluffer won’t rake in the bucks like an Ebenezer Splooge film would. Their terms to settle are simple. Return and finish the film.”
“Or what?” Ebenezer asked.
“Or go to court.”
“Roger, I’ve retired from the business. The truth is,” Ebbie said, patting Gorg on the arm, “I’ve found someone.”
“Well, turn him in to the nearest lost and found counter and come back to work.”
