Page 142 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

Abigail skates a couple of steps forward to address us. “’Twas two weeks afore Christmas Eve, not twelve months since, when Lord Gabe of the Woods journeyed through the snow to his new home in Warm Springs.”

Grayson makes like he’s trudging wearily through heavy snow up to the mayor’s house. When he gets there, he slams his hands on his hips and stares at it.

“What is this I see before me? Someone has done much decking of the halls. My house be festoonedwith myriad ornaments. I care not for festive festoonment. Therefore I am yet more grumpy than I was afore.”

Gabe puts his arm around me and lets out a belly laugh.

Grayson stomps to the side of the house, slamming his skates on the ice. “I shall gather my belongings from my chariot and enter the abode to lay my head. And on the morrow, I shall seek out the scoundrel who has committed such festoonery.”

Abigail glides silently up behind him and jumps on his back.

“Ah,” Grayson cries. “I am attacked. Attacked, I declare.”

He leans sideways to drop Abigail gently to lie on her back on the ice, then stands over her.

“Who are ye who seeks to mug me in my own driveway and rob me of my riches?” he pulls off her rabbit ears and tosses them aside.

Abigail clutches her face. “It is all a mistake, O lord. I knew not that you are the new owner.” She gestures to the mayor’s house. “But these decorations shall bring you much merriment.”

“Oh no, they shall not.” Grayson slumps his shoulders. “For I am a lifelong grump who shall never be changed. I wish only to sit in my unfestooned house on Fool’s Hill and educate myself on the ways of the world’s fauna with ne’er any a human with whom to communicate. Merriment shall not be had.”

Oh my God, a laugh so forceful that it bends me in half rolls out of me.

Abigail gets to her feet and limps. “Oh no, I am hurt.”

Kristopher appears from the side, sliding out one of thetrees that Gabe painted for last year’s play. When it gets close to the action, he stops and pushes it over.

Grayson stamps his foot and slams his fists on his hips, his face contorted into an extreme frown and pout. “Not only do you festoon my house, but now you must be my human company, for the road is blocked and you are ailing and cannot leave.”

He stomps off. “I do not desire human company. I require only solitary misery. On the morrow you shall be gone.” He flings his arm to emphasize her banishment from his presence.

There’s a momentary pause in proceedings while Kristopher removes the fallen tree and Prema pushes out a large cutout of a decorated pig.

The coffee twins from the Bearded Bean and Polly from the produce store follow her out and take up positions on either side of the pig. Where the hell didtheycome from?

“Since we are now friends,” Abigail says, linking arms with a scowling Grayson, “I shall make you familiar with our town and festive celebrations.”

“But what is this?” Grayson points and scoffs at the pig.

“It is the Warm Springs Christmas pig. We are a land of much tradition and local lore. It will open your heart. You shall see.”

“Never,” Grayson shouts, snatching himself from Abigail’s grip. He folds his arms across his chest with so much force one side of his beard peels off.

“My heart of stone shall remain locked forever,” Grayson declares, quickly pressing the beard back to his cheek. “I will have no feelings for anything other than the game we play on ice with sticks, and wherewe sometimes have fights because we are foolish men who know no better.”

Gabe’s laughter rings in my ears. And my side is now actually hurting and there’s no hope for my mascara.

“But look,” an extra smiley and super cheery Abigail says. “The men with hairy faces who make hot drinks.” The coffee twins each hold up a Bearded Bean take-out cup.

“The lady of the produce with snowmen crafted from vegetables.” Polly holds up a snowman in each hand. One is made from what looks like a squash and turnips. The other seems to be two white onions.

“And the pig itself.” Abigail makes a grand sweeping gesture at the centerpiece. “All a-glow with pinkness and tinsel and decorations charmed with memories.”

Grayson slowly skates away, shaking his head.

But Abigail follows, her hands pressed together in a pleading prayer position. “Surely thou shalt be changed by our small-town oddities.”

Grayson stops in his tracks and clutches his chest. “Oh, what is this?” He turns to stare at Abigail in shock. “Is this a cracking of my heart?”

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