In our town, Christmas in particular sparked an informal and good-natured competition for best window decoration and none were rarely better than the effort put forth by our local hardware store and Charlie Fedderson. Charlie ruled the hardware store like a benevolent wizard. He was capable of simple magic and true wizardry. He knew where every screw, nut, bolt, and ax handle was. He knew how many of each he had sold this year and last, and he knew who he had sold them to. He knew how to fix just about anything, what you needed to do it and he could walk you through the necessary steps to achieve the repair. The store was filled with aisle upon aisle of every imaginable home necessity and tool and the old wooden floors creaked and groaned with the constant foot traffic of Saturday shoppers.
If you needed a knife, or mower blade sharpened Charlie would disappear into the cellar and return with a blade you could shave with. If you needed a pipe for plumbing, Charlie could cut it and thread it for you in a jiffy. He could bend conduit, and roll out electrical wire and he could do it all quickly. He could and would weld or solder your simple jobs, and he could do big jobs out in the alley. All of these traits made the hardware store an almost necessary stop when you were in town on Saturday, but there was one more thing that made it an absolute certainty. Charlie knew everything about everyone in town, and he was an excellent conversationalist. The coffee never got cold on Saturday down at the hardware store.
During Christmas one year, I stopped at the hardware store on the way out of town to pick up a few things, and to spend some time in the audience. On this particular Saturday I had also brought my young son to town with me to see if he might find a thing or two to gift his mother for Christmas. At almost four years old his eyes were big and bright as we strolled down main street looking into the store front windows but he stopped dead in his tracks when we got to the hardware store for indeed Charlie had truly outdone himself.
The window featured a wonderful real tree fully lit and decorated, with dozens of wrapped and unwrapped presents underneath, all of which were available for sale inside, of course. Standing on one side of the tree was an electric heater that resembled an open fireplace, also available and discounted for the season. A rocking chair that somehow Charlie had motorized so that it rocked gently back and forth and in the rocking chair sat a large plush teddy bear with a ribbon and bow around its neck. Christmas Carols played out of a speaker above the window. It was quite remarkable.
Inside Sean and I browsed the housewares department and he picked out a first-class stainless steel can opener, and some colorful pot holders. Taking them to the counter we arrived to find Charlie in full throat. Like everyone else he caught my attention completely and I was both entertained and enlightened. Charlie though was capable of doing two things at once, and while he regaled us with his monologue he also rang up customers, bagged merchandise, and if necessary packaged them as well.
When my turn came I turned to Sean for our selections only to discover that he was not there. I quick scan of the immediate area didn’t help and Charlie immediately curtailed his story and mobilized the troops. Sending some out the front door, and a few out the back to check the alley. The rest were detailed to check every aisle in the store, and Charlie and I went to the cellar. Ten minutes later all searchers had returned but there was no sign of Sean. Some had circled the entire block, I was in full panic. It was cold outside, and he was definitely not in the store.
Charlie picked up the phone and called the sheriff, Jim Peters. Jim and I had a good relationship, he was a good man and a good cop. He arrived quickly, with full lights and siren. We watched as he came to a sharp stop practically standing the squad car on its nose, double parked on the street out front he bolted from his squad car and around the front, but just like everyone else the storefront window caught his attention first. He stood there for a good ten seconds gazing at all the work Charlie had done before once again heading for the front door, that opened with the familiar jingle of the bell hanging above it.
“Holy crap Charlie that’s the best Christmas window I’ve ever seen!”
“Thanks Jim, but we got a problem right now.”
“Yeah I know, but man that window is really something anyway.”
I liked Jim Peters but I was about to have a heart attack with anxiety so I spoke up.
“Listen Jim, he’s got his winter coat and hat on, so I think he’ll be okay for a while, but it’s gonna get dark pretty quick.”
“Okay,” he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a little notebook and clicked open his ballpoint pen, “Let’s see, wearing a red plaid winter coat and a blue stocking cap, with a little ball on top?” He asked as he wrote.
“Yeah, and rubber boots with zippers, hey wait a minute….”
“I think you better come on outside—all of you idiots.”
He turned and just headed out the door. By this time there were quite a few of us gathered but we crowded out the door behind him and to where he had stopped next to the squad car. He turned to face us all and said,
“I hope I never need any of you to find something for me, turn around.”
As one we turned and faced the storefront again. The lights danced on the Christmas tree and the fake fire crackled in the fake fireplace and the Christmas Carols quietly played from the speaker above the window and Sean, fast asleep, rocked gently with the big teddy bear on his lap in the big wooden rocker. He had put the perfect finishing touch on a spectacular Christmas window.
