10/5/11

Uncle Frederick
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                Uncle Frederick sojourned to the family farm one early Saturday morning. Which constantly vexed us all, plus he always talked about his plan about killing zombies the right way. This probably explained why he always stank of what he said was crocodile pee, even that annoyed Timmy, and the family’s taciturn. And plus the apothecary always said that it was illicit to hunt zombies anyways, but Uncle Frederick always said that it was judiciously fair to do so, since the end of the world was coming and all that. But that always put on disapprobation, from me, but I don’t bother to stop him anyways. Since I somehow knew, he was right, in my cordial way. Though, father was always condescended somehow always to help him every weekend, but that was diminutive compared to Christmas day.

                It was a nice snowy white morning, everything seemed vapid, even the cookies looked too nebulous, compared to the tiny snowflakes. Mother’s repertoire was cooking, so that day she was off in the kitchen cooking preparing for the Christmas feast. She only used herbs that were indigenous to our land, which father found a bit malevolent ever since he found a ghost. But that’s a story for another day, well moving on. Father’s predilection during Christmas would be us building snow statues out in the backyard, then sledding, and snow angels, before ending it off with a Christmas play in which we would show mother.

                But this was an extra special day, for Uncle Frederick was coming to visit, which the apothecary was very contemptuous with, for he believed it was to be a day of four, not five. But we didn’t listen, for it was a normal Christmas day plus Uncle Frederick. Everything went normal, except for the snow statue’s eyes and mouth, instead of coal Uncle Frederick insisted we use scuppernongs, which I found a bit odd. But he said it will bring hope which is very important this time of year. Instead of the usual Christmas-y plays, we ended up doing the not what to do while hunting zombies play. Which annoyed mother quite a bit, but in the end, everyone was pretty much amused.  In fact, I think that this was the finest Christmas I ever had, full of smiles, and laughter, and good food to share around.

                But in the end, as if God was proving to me that not everything will always be good, Uncle Frederick disappeared in the middle of nowhere. No one was watching, no one couldn’t believe it, he was just here and then gone. Father told me that he was a ghost, and wordlessly everyone agreed. But I think he was someone else, someone magical that liked to hunt zombies and give joy to others. I think Uncle Frederick was Santa Claus.