Christmas at Glosser's Read online

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  Also by Robert Jeschonek

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  Christmas at Glosser’s

  Robert Jeschonek

  CHRISTMAS AT GLOSSER’S

  Copyright © 2013 by Robert Jeschonek

  www.thefictioneer.com

  Cover Art Copyright © 2013 by Ben Baldwin

  www.benbaldwin.co.uk

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in November 2013 by arrangement with the author. All rights reserved by the author.

  A Pie Press book

  Published by Pie Press Publishing

  411 Chancellor Street

  Johnstown, Pennsylvania 15904

  www.piepresspublishing.com

  Also by Robert Jeschonek

  Death by Polka

  Fear of Rain

  Lump

  The Masked Family

  Christmas at Glosser’s

  What happened in the secret sub-basement of Glosser’s department store in Johnstown, Pennsylvania every Christmas Eve? Jack Shaffer found out in 1975, when he was eleven years old.

  And then he found out what it felt like to die.

  *****

  “Where did you say you were going?” Mom stared at Jack through slitted eyes, holding one hand over the phone receiver in her grip.

  “The library.” Jack scrubbed his fingers through his short sandy hair in frustration. Mom had been talking on the phone and hadn’t heard him the first two times he’d said it. “There’s a book I need to get.”

  Mom waved him off. “Go on, then.” She didn’t ask if he was sure the library was open on Christmas Eve, didn’t tell him to be careful or hurry home. She wasn’t always big on that sort of thing, since her latest boyfriend had moved out.

  Jack pulled on his navy blue jacket over his red sweatshirt and bluejeans. “Seeya.”

  Mom didn’t answer. Her hand was already off the receiver.

  As Jack zipped up the jacket and marched toward the front door, he heard her talking excitedly into the phone again. “He’ll definitely be at church tonight, Deb? You really think he’ll like me?”

  Scowling, Jack threw the door open and slammed it shut behind him. As he ran off down the street, all thoughts of Mom’s dating life shot right out of him. He had bigger things on his mind, a mystery he needed to solve.

  One involving the only man he truly cared about in the whole world.

  *****

  The door on the yellow-sided house two blocks from where Jack lived opened slowly, and a heavy tread came down on the front porch. As Jack watched from behind a tree on the other side of the street, a tall man with wavy silver hair stomped down the four steps from the porch to the sidewalk.

  The man wore a dark gray jacket, zipped halfway up over a big pot belly. Under the jacket, he wore the same thing he wore every day--a crisp white button-down shirt and black tie. His trousers were black, too, and so were his immaculately shined Oxford shoes.

  If Jack had called out to him at that moment--Hey, Bub!--the man would have grinned and waved him right over. Not only was he Jack’s grandfather, Mom’s dad, but he was Jack’s biggest supporter, always there when he needed him.

  Except for one night out of the year, that is. One night when he was nowhere to be found.

  Christmas Eve.

  Jack waited for Bub to get half a block down the street, then followed, taking care to stay far enough back that he wouldn’t likely draw Bub’s attention. Whenever he could, he lingered behind trees or lamp posts or parked cars, ever ready to duck down if needed...but Bub never looked back.

  He just kept rambling down the street, eyes dead ahead, steering toward his mysterious errand.

  Suddenly, a neighbor lady, Mrs. Williams, pushed open her car door in front of Jack. “Well, hello there, Jackie.” She was in her eighties and stooped with arthritis but got around fine, even drove herself on errands. “Do you think you might help me with my groceries?”

  Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Williams, but I can’t. I’m in a hurry.”

  “But it will just take a minute, Jackie.”

  “Next time, sorry.” Jack’s guts jittered when he looked up ahead where Bub should be. He was nowhere in sight.

  Mrs. Williams was saying something, but Jack ran off without another word. No way was he going to wait another year to find out Bub’s secret.

  There was an intersection up ahead, and Jack charged toward it. Stopping on the corner, he looked right, then left, then stomped his foot angrily. He saw no sign of Bub in either direction.

  Thinking fast, Jack sprinted forward, hoping for a glimpse of Bub down one of the cross-streets or alleys. He didn’t spot him at the first street or even the second, but he caught a glimpse at the third--a flash of Bub’s silver hair and gray jacket sliding past.

  Jack gasped in relief and veered right down the side street. Reaching the end, he leaned out in time to see Bub disappear around a corner.

  “Geez!” Jack panted as he darted after him. The old man was giving him a run for his money as he navigated the maze of the neighborhood in Dale Borough, not far from downtown Johnstown.

  Peeking around the corner, Jack saw Bub continue straight ahead. He fell in behind him, keeping his distance as before.

  And wondering what exactly Bub intended to do downtown, since that was where he was headed.

  *****

  Snow flurries flickered down around Jack as he followed Bub out of Dale. The closer he got to downtown, the more flurries fell, and the colder the wind got.

  The skies darkened, too, as afternoon spun toward evening. Plenty of the cars whisking past on Bedford Street had their headlights on, though the streetlights above remained dark.

  The snow picked up, and so did Jack’s curiosity. Where could Bub be heading on Christmas Eve, alone? Why was he going there?

  Every year, he did the same thing, without explanation. Jack always ended up going to midnight mass at St. John’s with his grandmother, Gram. As for Mom, she never came along, either, but her travels weren’t so mysterious; there was always a new boyfriend in the picture, complete with drama or celebration or both.

  Bub left the bigger gap, as far as Jack was concerned. He’d been Jack’s father figure and best friend for the past seven years, for most of Jack’s life. Not having Bub around cast a shadow on Christmas Eve; he was always back for Christmas Day, but it was never enough.

  And every year, the mystery of his whereabouts haunted Jack a little more. It had become one of the overriding mysteries of his life, right up there with Why did my Dad leave when I was four years old and is he ever coming back?

  Now, as Jack got closer to an answer, his heart beat faster. He was on the verge of discovery, he could feel it; nothing would be the same after that.

  Bub ambled across Haynes Street and kept going, making a beeline into town. He glanced in the front window of the Bedford Street Newsstand, waved at someone inside, but didn’t slow down.

  When Jack reached the newsstand, he looked in and saw an old-timer looking back at him, scrawny and shriveled in a pale blue polyester leisure suit. The old man eyed him as he passed, giving a little half-nod before returning his attention to the magazine rack.

  By the time Jack looked forward again, Bub was two blocks ahead, rounding the corner of Main Street. No question, he was mak
ing good time; for a man with a big pot belly, he could really move when he wanted to.

  Imagining he was Colonel Steve Austin, the bionic hero from his favorite TV show, The Six Million Dollar Man, Jack broke into a full-tilt run. Arms and legs pumping, he blasted across Vine Street--getting honked at by a car about to make a left turn--and covered the remaining distance to Main in nothing flat.

  Worried that he might have lost Bub, he eased around the corner for a look down Main...and felt a wave of relief. Bub had stopped a block away, across from the McDonald’s restaurant, and was talking to an old woman dressed in red. Her hat, coat, dress, and shoes were all red; maybe she was going to a holiday function...but if so, where was the green to go with the red?

  As Jack watched, Bub reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Had this been his goal from the start? Meeting up with a secret girlfriend?

  But then, with a few more words, he let go of her and continued on his way down Main Street. Meeting the woman wasn’t his last stop after all.

  Jack still thought there was something funny about her, though. As he walked past her on his way to follow Bub, he took a good look...and felt a shiver up his spine. Her eyes, when he gazed into them, were misaligned, each looking off to either side instead of straight ahead. Jack couldn’t tell if she was looking right at him or not.

  He was all too happy to get past her, especially as Bub was already turning another corner. He was a block ahead on the other side of Main, zipping right on Franklin Street.

  Channeling the Six Million Dollar Man, Jack bolted after him. As he ran, he heard the sound effect from the TV show in his head, the sound like high-tech motors and parts cranking and straining in artificial legs: ch-ch-ch-ch-cha, ch-ch-ch-ch-cha.

  The latest course change brought him to the heart of the action, the middle of town. Central Park, on the left, was filled with little cottages, each decorated with Christmas paraphernalia. The trees in the park were all decorated, too; just as Jack rounded the corner, every one of them lit up at once, hundreds of bulbs glowing blue, red, yellow, and green amid the falling flurries.

  The park and the sidewalks around it were busy with people, most of them hurrying with arms full of shopping bags. The bags were all stamped with a familiar logo, a name printed with a flourish on the brown-and-white-striped paper. It showed where they’d been...and where Bub was now headed. Whether it would be his last destination remained to be seen, but Jack knew it was where he was going right now.

  Glosser Bros. The big department store facing the park, on the corner of Franklin and Locust.

  Bub was crossing Locust, marching toward Glosser Bros. department store...for what reason, Jack still didn’t know.

  *****

  As Jack hung back, staying on the park side of Locust, Bub ambled up to the door on the corner. Another old-timer was standing there, spindly as a scarecrow in a black-and-white houndstooth sport coat, bright green Alpine hat with a big white feather in it, and brown-and-red plaid pants.

  Grinning, the old-timer shook Bub’s hand with gusto. Jack couldn’t hear a word they said, but they rattled on like old buddies for a while.

  Then, the old-timer hugged Bub and shuffled into the store with a jaunty wave. Bub didn’t follow him in, to Jack’s surprise; instead, he walked down Locust Street along the side of the dark brick building, weaving between the knots of last-minute shoppers and people gazing at the window displays.

  That was Jack’s cue. Darting across Locust, he threaded through the crowd in Bub’s wake.

  But he didn’t make it past the windows as fast as Bub did. They were one of his favorite Christmas traditions; every year, Glosser’s employees decorated them to the hilt, filling them with holiday scenes centered around mechanical figures.

  Jack had already seen this year’s editions, but he couldn’t help stealing glances again. There was one with Santa checking names off a giant list with an orange quill pen while elves built toys around him. In another, a drummer in a tall black hat and red uniform beat a drum in front of a Christmas tree dripping with white lights and tinsel. Another window was done up like an undersea kingdom with a blue backdrop; Santa, wearing scuba gear, rode a sleigh pulled by dolphins, surrounded by branches of coral draped with glittering lights.

  Jack didn’t consider himself a little kid anymore, but he still loved those windows. They brought back memories of years gone by, gazing through that same glass with Bub and Gram...or, further back, with Dad. Sometimes, he felt like he could just reach right through and touch them, if the moment was right and no one was looking. Or maybe he could just ask Dad a question, get him to lip-read if he couldn’t hear the sound...then Jack could lip-read his answer in return. He’d looked for that moment, looked for Dad’s reflection more than a few times.

  Just as he now looked away from the windows for the answer to the Christmas Eve mystery. Up ahead, he saw Bub hang a sharp right, entering the store through the last door on Locust Street.

  Pacing himself, Jack took his time getting to that door. He didn’t know exactly where Bub was going and didn’t want to get caught following too closely.

  When he got to the door, he cupped his hands around his eyes and peered through the glass. Bub was nowhere to be seen.

  As soon as Jack opened the door, his nose filled with the smell of tobacco and roasting nuts. It was the smell that always came to mind when he thought of Glosser Bros., the rich aroma that permeated his favorite part of the store, the last lobby on Locust Street.

  The tobacco counter was on his left, a nook where pipe tobacco, cigars, and cigarettes were sold. Magazine racks lined the wall on his right; two white wire spinner racks stood in front of them, stuffed with bags of comic books. Jack had gotten comics there for as long as he could remember, three to a bag; sometimes, he picked them out himself, and other times, Bub brought them home as a treat. None of the comics had covers, which was why they were sold so cheap, but Jack loved them just the same.

  It looked like the racks were freshly stocked, and Jack had to force himself to look away. Moving on, he paused at the candy and nut counter, the source of the aroma of roasting peanuts and cashews wafting through the lobby. His mouth watered at the sight of the trays of candy and piles of nuts behind the glass case.

  Tearing himself away, Jack ran up the few short steps leading out of the lobby. A bustling trio of women loaded with packages nearly knocked him over as he stepped out into the spacious ground floor of the store.

  There it was, in all its glory: the heart of the Glosser Bros. department store. To the left of where Jack was standing, shoppers jostled among displays of shoes and boots, shouting and waving for the attention of overwhelmed salespeople. Straight ahead, in the big middle section, people crowded around tables overflowing with merchandise--everything from hats and gloves to shirts and socks. On the far side of the store, shoppers swarmed racks of menswear and coats, inspecting items from top to bottom and trying them on, then slinging them over forearms or tossing them aside.

  The place was a madhouse, packed with people grabbing last-minute gifts...but Bub was nowhere among them. Jack saw plenty of familiar faces in the crowd under the glittering decorations, heard the chorus of voices mingling with the Christmas music piped in over the intercom system...but neither saw nor heard a trace of his grandfather.

  Bub was in there somewhere, though. He had to be, unless he’d ducked out another door. If he wasn’t on the ground floor, he must be on another level of the store.

  Jack darted left, weaving through the mob like a football player navigating downfield. Cutting off a fat lady with a baby in each arm and a shopping bag hanging from each hand, he hopped on the escalator heading up.

  *****

  When the moving stairs reached the second floor, Jack jumped off. Women’s clothing and lingerie occupied most of level two; maybe Bub was looking for a last minute present for Gram.

  Giving up on caution, Jack sprinted all around the second floor. He snaked between the clothing racks and ta
bles, craning his neck for a glimpse of Bub’s telltale silver hair. Every step of the way, he ducked shoppers casting glares in his direction, especially when he cut them off or bumped into them.

  By the time he’d finished his circuit of the women’s department, he was out of breath...but maybe not out of luck. Grimly determined, he bolted down the short hallway into the Annex, an adjacent building connected to the main body of the store.

  The second floor of the Annex seemed like a better choice than the women’s department...not because it was home to the notions department with all its sewing supplies, but because it was also home to Glosser’s Cafeteria.

  As Jack passed through Notions, a sales clerk frowned at him--an old woman he’d seen there often, who’d worked there for ages. As always, her lipstick extended beyond the middle section of her upper lip, forming a double arch of deep red that reached up under her nose.

  Jack ignored the dirty look she gave him and continued on to the cafeteria. He knew the place well; he’d been there many times with Bub over the years. It was one of their favorite places to eat, right up there with Stuver’s Crispy Chicken and the Bradford Room in Grant’s Department Store in Richland, a Johnstown suburb.

  Bub wasn’t anywhere in sight today, though. The airy, brightly lit dining area was full, but Bub wasn’t sitting there. He wasn’t in the cafeteria line, either, or standing at the ice cream counter.

  Jack hurried over there anyway. As he approached the counter, the twins who worked there--who’d worked there as long as he could remember--both gave him a bright smile.

  “What would you like?” The two women said it at the same time, with identical high-pitched voices.

  “Uh, hi.” Jack had never been able to tell them apart; they were both short, with deep brown eyes and black hair pulled back in a bun. They wore matching uniforms, too--pink and white striped aprons over white dresses with short, puffy sleeves. “Have you seen my grandfather here today? He’s tall, with white hair, and...”