Practically Perfect - 9. IX. Fink Flies a Kite

IX. Act Three – Saint Nicholas Day

Scene 3: Fink Flies a Kite

Scores of delighted kids had been entertained all afternoon, laden with toys and books, and then sent home with happy hearts and the very warmest of memories.

For their part, the weary band of selfless Famousites returned the four rows of seats to their regular positions and bolted them down.

Now, two of those same altruistic volunteers are walking back to the store after dark. However, this holiday night is anything but gloomy, despite the chill in the December air.

Washington Avenue is gaily lit. This festive illumination spreads out in all directions from varying sources; from storefronts where people rush with packages to catch streetcars, buses or cabs, and from overhead strings of clear bulbs zigzagging two or three stories above the entire width of street and sidewalks.[1]

Suddenly Naomi shivers and shifts the weight of her beach bag from shoulder to shoulder.

The motion draws Bruce's consideration away from the pinpoints of lights overhead to her struggles. Not knowing what could be in there – her books or uniform – he has a wayward thought. He should offer to carry it for her, in fact, if his father were here, the elder Achitoff would insist upon it. But for Bruce the risk is a simple one: volunteer and run the risk of Miss Tyson scoffing at him and saying he's so old fashioned.

They walk on; Famous would not close for about another hour, so they had plenty of time.

The crowd activity up head increases. Folks mill about and appear unaffected by notions of time or cold. Stix, Baer & Fuller has a way with Christmas too, and the second largest of this city's 'Big Three' department stores easily charms and beguiles the metropolis' million-plus inhabitants every year.

From their perspective, even though they are still a full long block away from it, the gossamer steel arches over the intersection of Washington and Sixth glow in ethereal charm against the dark sky.

This framework forms an 'X' across the width and breadth of both pair of thoroughfares several stories above. The latticework of metal tubing is braided with gold garland and clear light bulbs. Hanging from the underside, graduated bells warm up the night in a red and white frosted glow, and seem to wait for a giant's child to come along and play them like a toy glockenspiel.

Naomi silently delights how a sight such as this has the power to reduce even the sage collectiveness of Mary Poppins to 'kid status' again.[2]

Closer to them, right across Seventh Street, is another of Stix's holiday features.

If the dollhouse of a fairytale castle could be blown up to thirty feet in height, and a hundred-thirty-foot in length to wrap around a marble and bronze department store corner, this is it.

Towers and turrets mark the corners. These are full-formed, complete with amber-colored leaded glass windows, slate rooves, and flag-embellished finials. The walls are twenty feet high, stony-white and embellished with swags of green garland. Between the towers rise slender windows capped in whimsical tracery of red and gold.

A long line of children and parents wait at a gateway by the base of one of the towers. The buzz of happy and anticipatory voices swirls all about the castle.

Naomi and Bruce stroll up and peek through one of the tall windows. Inside, young men and women – dressed as Lords and Ladies of the Leaping variety – direct the kids to the seated Santa. He greets each one and hoists them onto his lap for a brief chat, photo and gift. Happily they climb down and the little family is invited to tour the rest of the store, which naturally, they do.

Both Famousites think the same thought: Stix, Baer & Fuller is an elegant place.

The pair move on, re-crossing Seventh at Bruce's insistence, and soon Naomi sees why.

Even from two blocks away, Famous-Barr's seven-story-high, ninety-foot-tall tree of lights looks spectacular. More than that, it looks enchanting.

A gentle hand on Naomi's shoulder distracts her. Bruce lifts the strap of her bag without a word and slings it across his chest.

Internally, Naomi sighs. In another step or two, her hand has also landed on that chest and her head come to rest on his upper arm.

His arm comes around to grip her waist, and together they walk on to their destination.

˚˚˚˚˚

The star on top of Fink's tree is glorious. Its multitudinous splendor twinkles on Famous shoppers at the corner window from eleven stories in the air.

From the top, hoops attached to the building grow larger in circumference as they go lower. Strings of colorless lights are left to swag – two or more stories at a time – from the 'trunk' to the outer branches. They sway gently in the nighttime breeze, while more stars sweep upwards from the branches.

The base of the tree – its trunk – ends twenty feet above the heads of passersby.

These groups of parents and children, of lovers and married people, of teenagers trying not to be impressed, of young and old, of new to the sights and the veterans alike, have been drawn to this spot like an 'X' on the map. And indeed, the store of memories being generated on this cold Saint Nicholas night will be locked up and valued for many occurrences of this feast day to come.

At sidewalk level, wooden barricades have been erected so kids can wiggle and finagle themselves right up front where they belong. The wonders of the displays get viewed through the mist of dragon breath and sighing Oogh's and Ah's; little noses and little mittened hands pressing right against the glass, right where they belong.

Behind them assemble the taller people, who bundle in scarves and each other for warmth, and who have their own perfect view. Music bathes all in warm ambience, for speakers mounted atop match the animation to a tee – all has been prepared, all has been executed to perfection.

Amongst the crowd, a pair of weary-but-content Famousites join the spectators. The two-block walk down Seventh Street from Stix had left Naomi Tyson and Bruce Achitoff feeling quietly jubilant with every step. Now at their destination, they pause too and let the scene sink into the deepest reserves of their recollection.

A colony of Toyland on Eight, the corner window does its best to promote the sights of the motherland domain upstairs. Arranged as if a section of the department itself dressed in Edwardian mode, the rear wall is divided into tiers of shelves loaded with toys. More playthings fill the platforms arranged like broad steps, and here many of them are attached via hidden ligature to cogs and motors of magic.

Trains move, so do dollies reaching for newfound mommies, bears roll and tumble, and blocks fall and restack themselves.

On the floor in front of the display, Bert and Jane from the movie play and giggle under a Tiffany-style lamp. The girl pushes a perambulator on its test run; a stuffed animal with goggles the first passenger. Mary Poppins and Michael are on the other side, and the boy rubs his hands together to windup a top, which once he releases, spins off on its own.

Presiding from the center is Santa Claus. He sits in a rocking chair, one ankle crossed upon his knee, his head rotating appealingly from right to left as he surveys all in a loving fashion.

More of the Edwardian feel is reinforced by the Christmas tree at his side. Spilling wrapped presents from underneath, its branches are decorated with antique German glass ornaments – delicately painted cellos, drums, harps, mandolins and guitars – while a pair of cherubs fly a circle above the Saint bearing banners that read: "Be Sure to Visit Toyland, 8th Floor."

Naomi feels like laughing; it's charming and just about perfect. Bruce seems to agree, even though his glance lingers on Naomi more than the window display.

The young woman says, "It's getting chilly." She shoves her bag into Bruce's chest. "Hold this for me."

She starts to dig and Bruce jokes, "Not the time or place to slip on your ice cream suit."

A fading of the music precedes a lyrical announcement. "Dear shoppers, Mary Poppins here kindly reminding you that Famous-Barr stores will close at 4:30 p.m. on Thursday, December 24th, and Thursday, December 31st, to give our store members an 'early start' to their own holidays. We thank you in advance." [3]

"Ha-ha, Bruce. Too bad you're only half as funny as you think." Naomi slowly extracts something long, dark and of a fine woolen material.

The young man's eyes grow wide as a nagging sensation of Where have I seen that grows into Oh, my God….

With no self-consciousness, Naomi slips on and bundles up in the Edwardian overcoat Bruce had picked out for her from Goodwill. For a moment the redolent smell of the thrift store meets his nostrils and crowns the growing smile on his lips.

Naomi buttons up, working the strap to cinch her waist a bit and takes her bag from Bruce's arms. On her face lives a challenging I dare you to say BOO about it look.

The young man is smart enough to heed the 'warning,' but once Naomi settles in against his side, his arm comes up and rests comfortably across her shoulders to draw her in even closer.

Motion from the crowd catches Bruce's attention. Naomi glances too and recognizes Richardson Orlean.

"Look who it is," she says.

"Yeah, and who's that woman with him?"

At the same instant both realize the person Richardson stands close to is rocking an infant in her arms. The baby's mother and father are admiring the scene as much as Bruce and Naomi.

"Come on," the young man says. "Let's say Hi."

They thread their way carefully through the crowd like crabs; everyone's attention is fixed dead ahead of them, so the Famousites have to inch along sideways.

Richardson sticks out his hand. "Ah, Bruce! This is my wife, Claire."

"Nice to meet you. This is Naomi Tyson. She works at the Baskin-Robbins counter on the First Floor."

"Nice to meet you."

"And who is this?" Naomi reaches for the grinning little one.

Claire beams. "This is Katie, the apple of her father's eye."

Richardson coo-coos his daughter and glows with pride in his family. "I wanted her to see it all. It's her first FB Christmas."

"Just one of many," Claire Orlean adds with a smile.

He hugs her shoulder and makes a funny face for his gurgling daughter. "Just one of many, Katie, but still this one is your first."

"It's one I'll remember for sure…." Naomi's glance spills across Bruce for a moment. "The Beatles, the Bicentennial, Bruce's column covers – "

"And Mary Poppins," the young man interjects. "Can't forget about her."

Naomi's mood briefly and inexplicably shifts to the serious as she reiterates, "No, we can't forget about her."

Richardson says, "Well, if you'll excuse us, we want to show Katie your toy soldiers and nutcrackers before the store closes.

"Happy Saint Nicholas Day!" the Orleans chime in unison, and Bruce and Naomi reply with smiles and the same wish for them.

They watch the family go, and once out of sight, Bruce flicks the lapel of his girl's coat. "Lookin' sharp."

"For a junk shop find, I guess so." A sly expression arises to match her slowed tone.

"So, does that mean you like it?"

"Ummm…."

"So, does that mean you did it to please me…?"

"Ummm."

"It's one or the other, girl."

"Wrong, Brucie Boy. It could be both."

"And you'll consider going out with me – you know, official and all."

Her sly, slow-paced tone reappears. "You're so old-fashioned. Yes, Bruce Achitoff, I'll 'step out' with you, officially."

Even through his blush, he feels so happy he can burst. "Cool. And you'll be a Teddy Girl with me?"

An irresistible sneer arises. "Don’t push it, but…we'll see."

Bruce is about to lean over and do what he's been wanting to do for weeks now, when a disturbance in the crowd again draws his attention.

Jerahmeel Fink is moving towards them, but his appearance is altered somehow.

Naomi tracks the young man's sightline, and just as the Display Department boss gets to their side, Naomi blurts out: "Are you all right?"

The older man is a collection of animated expressions and spry body movements; neither young person had ever seen him look so vivacious and youthful.

"Mr. Fink, what is the matter?"

"Nothing, my boy!" He launches a handshake on his unsuspecting employee, his other hand reaching up and patting the youth's shoulder. "I've never been better – well, besides the time Mary told me to go fly a kite."

The young people glance at each other with blank eyes.

"She figured out how to fix my old broken heart." He's giddy. "Well, I suppose I can't 'blame' her entirely. It was you, Bruce. Seeing you today, the way you were with the kids – you’re a good kid yourself, Bruce, and I want to help you."

"I…."

"You and I will go over to the bank tomorrow, and we'll get you your loan – and if not, I'll lend you the money for the car myself."

"Mr. Fink – "

"It's my way of flying a kite, do you see?"

"I…."

"And don't worry. If that Triumph has electrical issues, any issues at all, I'll be the first one rolling up my sleeves and getting under the 'bonnet' to figure it out. You can count on me."

"Sir – "

"I had a son once. Did you know that, Bruce?"

The boy slowly shakes his head.

"Lost him in Korea, but if I hadn't and he wanted a car, I hope somebody would help him out too."

Naomi grips Bruce's arm.

"I'm sorry, Bruce," Jerahmeel continues. "You understand what I'm saying?"

His head nods; a lump gets swallowed.

"And after we get back from Centerre Bank, I'm gonna make a phone call. Your talent deserves to be seen by millions of people, and you should go out to L.A. and talk to Walt Disney. See their operations, visit with their folks; I think your concepts would be a boon to any organization. And hey, if it doesn't work out there, we'll make sure the May Company Los Angeles has a place for you – where you'll probably be running the whole show before long."

"Thanks, Mr. Fink." Bruce slides a glance on Naomi. "It's an option. I'm not sure I want to leave Saint Louis, but it's an option."

"Yes, it's a possibility, and it might be a bit easier for you out in California, so think about it."

They both understand what he means, and Bruce takes Naomi's hand with contentment.

"I will, Mr. Fink."

Laughter erupts from the older man, a mirthful twinkle falling on Naomi. "Call me Jerry from now on. It's only fair. And do think about L.A. and working at Disney. I believe it's what Mary Poppins would want."

The mention of her name is like a spark running between the young couple.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Jerahmeel explains with a parting handshake for both, "I want to go home. My wife and I have a lot of catching up to do."

Before they know it, Bruce's boss is making his way through the crowd, and quickly gets swallowed up by it.

"Say," Naomi asks, "did you ever settle on a name for 'her' – your new car?"

"I think I have."

"Care to fill a body in?"

"I think I'll call her Hope."

Naomi likes that; her expression lights up with wordless confirmation. That's perfect, and so are you.

The happy sounds of the window-shoppers reasserts itself; the music from the loud speakers comes back to the fore of their thoughts, and for some unknown reason, they glance up together. The corner of the ivory tower is wreathed in glorious concentric circles of lights, swags and star-tipped branches. It's all as magical as their hearts feel on the inside.

"You know," Bruce chuckles ironically, "this is gonna be a hard one to top. The pressure's on to make Christmas 1965 even more spectacular. And there's only three hundred and fifty-five days to go."

"Counting already! Amazing…. So, what are you gonna do?"

"What do you think of a ten-foot-tall animated Old King Cole, with four and twenty blackbirds circling overhead?!"

Naomi feels giddy. "I'm sure, Bruce, in your hands, I'll love him."

Just as the young man again leans in to accomplish his long-delayed task, movement catches his attention.

There, twenty-one stories above their heads, Mary Poppins flies into view. She moves rather slowly from west to east with her fully extended umbrella, her trusty carpetbag in the other hand, and her shoes pointed out. In a long moment or two, her figure becomes filtered through the glistening jewels of Jerry's Christmas tree before moving farther east and out of sight.

"Did you see that…?" Naomi asks quietly.

"Yep…."

"Me too. I won't tell if you won't tell."

Bruce took the girl's cheeks in his hands and whispered: "Mum's the word."

The music from the loud speakers quiets as the two near one another. While they close their eyes, Mary's voice comes on over the melody. "This is Mary Poppins wishing you and yours the very merriest, and the most practically perfect Christmas ever from Famous and Barr Company."

Naomi Tyson and Bruce Achitoff finally come together in a kiss, and it's one both tender and so very deeply in love.

"THE END"