I sat on my dock overlooking Pamlico Sound and contemplated the upcoming holidays. Why was the season always fraught with conflict? My job as a Dare County Deputy Sheriff on Hatteras Island was always stressful but more so during the holidays. Was there a sign somewhere saying “Season’s Greetings—time to get your stupid on?”
Focus on your blessings, Sue. With a sigh, I counted my blessings. Our move to a larger house at the end of last year had helped ease the tension in our home. More bathrooms meant less conflict, especially between my new husband, Woody, also a Dare County Deputy, and his daughter, Cindy, who was thirteen going on nineteen. My son, Jared, had entered the “embarrassed by parents” stage. I missed those days when we were close, but I knew the separation was a natural and necessary development. He’d appreciate me when he turned thirty-five, maybe.
In the meantime, he wanted to go to Sea Turtle Camp this summer. It was on his Christmas list, and it only cost about three thousand dollars for a week. I wished we could afford to send him, but three thousand dollars! So, I applied for financial aid. When I called to confirm they had received the application, they said that over eight hundred financial aid applications were submitted, among mine. Too many to judge on merit. They decided to have a lottery. Each application was assigned a number, and the winner would be announced on Christmas Eve. I crossed my fingers and said a prayer.
My supply miniature candy canes I munched on during the holidays was running low but getting up for a refill didn’t seem worth the effort to break my watch of the night’s stars twinkling above Pamlico Sound. Then, I saw a zip of light. It intensified and headed straight for me. “No, I made not a single wish!” But the stream of a lightning bolt pouring down from the sky told me Pam, the Sprite of Pamlico Sound, would visit shortly. “No, no, no!”
Her banana vehicle landed beside me on the dock. It unpeeled zipper by zipper from the top stem to the bottom in quarters. Out popped Pam. Dressed in a midnight blue velvet gown adorned with silver stars. She stepped onto the deck, looking every bit like a haggard Tinker Bell. I couldn’t help but notice her boots. Navy platform stiletto boots with matching silver stars.
banana wrangling competition.
“Uh.”
“Are you losing your hearing already? You’re only thirty-four, Sue.”
“Sorry, I was trying to envision banana wrangling.”
“Not as easy as it sounds.” Pam pointed to her ride. “Them things are slippery. But if you get a hold of them at the stem before they can unpeel, it’s not hard.”
I looked away. Pam had a way of making me feel crazier than I must be to have conjured her in the first place. I faced her. “I made no wishes. Why have you come?”
“Isn’t that fine and dandy. Denial and lies!” She put her hands on her considerable hips. “So much for Southern hospitality. So much for needing the help of a friend.” She tapped her platform sole against the dock, crossed her arms, and looked away.
Contritely, I stood. There was only one thing that would pacify her. “I’ll get us some refreshments.” As I walked to the house, I wondered about “denial and lies.” Had I made a wish? I couldn’t remember. I knew I’d said a prayer. Whatever.
The house was quiet as I entered the back door. Woody was on duty and the kids were sleeping over at friends’ houses. I retrieved the Evan Williams bourbon from above the refrigerator. Grabbing a tray, I centered a shot glass for Pam and an old fashioned glass for me. Then, I cracked ice into both glasses and cut an inch off a straw for Pam’s glass. We had a pot of mint growing on the windowsill. Perhaps Pam would enjoy a mint julep? Stuffing a leaf into each glass, I found a box of crackers, a bag of grated cheddar, and refreshed my bag of mini candy canes. Balancing the filled tray, I tight-roped back to the dock. Pam still looked aggrieved. I poured bourbon into each glass and sat down.
She grasped the straw and took a long sip, smacking her lips. “Mint. How refreshing! Reminds me of a day long ago in Kentucky.” A little smile crossed her face and an eyebrow wiggled.
Nope, not going there! Although I didn’t mind indulging her, I was concerned about her needing my help. At least, that’s what I thought she’d said. “Pam, what’s the problem requiring my help?”
“Rudolph took off! Of all the times of the year…it was the reindeer games. I know he never liked those games. But it is that time of year, after all.” She looked at me as if I should know.
“Christmas?”
“Yes, Christmas.” She mimicked me and huffed. “But more like rutting season, of course. Late autumn, early winter every year. You should know that, Sue. Hatteras is full of deer.”
We had lots of deer on Hatteras Island, but I wasn’t familiar with their mating habits. Although now that I thought about a randy buck named Buck from years past, perhaps the information explained his obvious attraction to me. But I wasn’t a deer! I suppressed the very idea and turned to question Pam. “What does that have to do with reindeer games?”
“They aren’t really games. Their rutting rituals among the males. Contest winners get to…well, they get to rut!”
“But why are you here? Rudoph could be anywhere in the world.”
“Nope, his GPS collar signaled from here.”
“Okay, then Santa or the head elf or whoever, can come and get him.” I reasoned aloud.
“What season is it, Sue?”
“Christmas.”
“And what time is the busiest of the year for the entire North Pole? Of course, at any other time, Santa would come, but he can’t, which is why he asked me. It is my territory, you know.”
“Okay, so what do you need to do? Lasso him or something?”
“Of course, not. It has to be his choice.”
I was stumped, flailing my arms through the air in front of her. “And how do we get him to change his mind and go home?”
“I have an idea. Let me miniaturize you, and we’ll fly to him.”
“No way.” I looked at the banana. “We’d never fit. Can you ride it with the peel down?”
“Too slippery.”
“Tell me where he is. I’ll take the Jeep and meet you.”
She smiled, which made my stomach hurt. Instant regret for agreeing to help engulfed me. She finished her snacks and chugged her drink. “Sounds like a plan. Here are the coordinates. Just off Ridge Road in the woods. Meet you there.” And then she zipped back up in the banana and disappeared into the night sky, leaving me to wonder what I had agreed to do.
***
Once on Ridge Road, the Jeep’s headlights picked up the trees edging the tarmac. The woods continued east until the beach started. Many a time, I saw deer leap out of the woods and romp up dunes while I was on the beach. The opposite side of this area was residential. No one planted ornamentals in their gardens because the deer would eat them before they had a chance to bloom. I hoped Rudolph stayed on the beach side away from the residents’ prying eyes. Stepping out of the Jeep, I saw a red glow through the trees.
With a zip and a bounce off the Jeep’s soft-top, Pam emerged from her banana. “Great landing pad, Sue. I’ll have to remember it for next time.”
I winced knowing there’d be a next time. “I think Rudolph is back there. See the red light?”
“Yep, that’s him.” Pam jumped on my shoulder. “Walk toward the red light,” Pam directed, “Now, stop behind this tree.”
Peeking around the tree, I saw Rudolph grazing on the outskirts of the herd. Pam turned to me, looked me over, and whispered, “Now let me summon Buck.”
“Whoa, there—why call Buck?”
“Would you keep your voice down? Don’t startle the deer or we’ll be hiking all over. Here’s my plan. Rudolph hates reindeer games. If he realized that he couldn’t get away from them, then maybe he’d give up his runaway act and head home.”
“What does that have to do with Buck?”
“Buck loved you! He’ll fight other bucks for your honor, so to speak.”
My hands went to my hips without any thought. I almost yelled but managed a whispered shout, “Do you mean that you want to use me as deer bait?”
“I guess if you look at it like that. You’re helping Santa and me solve a problem. He may need Rudolph this Christmas. We’ve had more fog and rain this year than snow.”
“I will not be used as buck bait! Don’t you have any other ideas?”
“No!”
“You know him from the North Pole, right?”
“Yes.”
“Can you talk to him? Ask him about his home, his family…maybe get him homesick?”
I shifted my gaze from Rudolph to Pam. Both of her arms were raised above her head. In one hand, she held her wand. “Eenie, meenie, minney, moe, change Sue into a doe!”
Shocked, I started to wobble on my feet, then sank onto the forest floor. Pam stood above me on a low branch of a tree. “What are you waiting for? Stand up and start bleating.”
When I tried to rise, I found two more legs than I was used to, and although limber, their support was like trying to balance on stilts. I propped the front two legs upright in front of me, then shifted my back legs, which conveniently were bent in the oppose direction I was used to, making getting on my own four hooves easier. Tottering back and forth, I stood. I meant to chew out Pam with vitriol, but instead I merely grunted. What mortification!
“Now Sue, walk over and mingle in the herd. Then, start bleating. It’s the way does attract bucks. I’m sure Buck will find you.”
I felt my long ears turn inward, and I tried to muster an indignant facial expression, but failed miserably. Stomping my hooves, I walked toward the herd. There was nothing I could do but go along with Pam’s plan. But once she had changed me back, she was going to get a piece or two of my mind!
accept my presence on the very outside of their group. As much as it pained me, I started to bleat in a call of nature. Two mature bucks started toward me. Involuntarily, I again bleated. One of the bucks I recognized as Buck, my old undercover boyfriend Pam had utilized for a drug bust.
Buck bellowed and charged the other male. I hoped the contender gave Buck a good fight, giving me time to get Pam to change me back. They went back and forth charging each other and bellowing. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Rudolph getting agitated. It was clear these jousts were the deer games he was avoiding. Walking toward him was a smaller deer, but distinctly a reindeer, not a regular doe. She nuzzled Rudolph.
Pam flew over and sat on my mane. “Dancer must fancy Rudolph. How fortuitous!” Rudolph and Dancer separated from the herd and strode toward the beach, just as Buck ran off the contender. I spotted his glowing eyes pinned on me.
I grunted and popped my eyes at Pam, trying to communicate. Now was the time to change me back—before Buck “claimed” me.
She looked over her shoulder at Buck. “Yes, yes, this would be the time. Alla, cado, alla, caboo, it’s time to change back to human form for Sue.”
I saw Buck’s eyes grow big as I changed back into myself. He snorted, stomped, and backed away…thankfully. “Not a moment too soon, Pam.” I started to formulate how I was going to chew out Pam, when she patted my arm.
“Let’s see what Rudolph and Dancer are up to.”
We walked toward the dunes. At the top, we looked down on the beach just as Rudolph and Dancer arose in the sky. In the moonlight, their silhouettes were backlit. I said to Pam, “Are they on the way back to the North Pole.”
She broke into a smile. “Yes, they’re on their way. Glad we could help Santa. You should feel really good about that, Sue.”
I glared and then said as sarcastically as I could, “Glad to be of service.”
“Mark my words, by Christmas day, you’ll be glad you did.” And then she mounted her banana and flew off.
***
Shopping, decorating, and baking filled my free hours off work. On Christmas Eve, I was parked by the side of the road waiting for speeders when my personal cell phone rang. The person on the other end informed me that Jared had been one of five children chosen to receive scholarships to Sea Turtle Camp. After the call, I wondered if Pam or Pam and Santa were responsible for the gift. Then I thought about being changed into a doe and figured maybe I’d earned the gift. Of all the things we do as mothers to try to fulfill our kids’ wants and desires, I never would have guessed being buck bait to be on that list.
That night, Woody and I sat on the dock. The stockings had been hung. The kids nestled in their beds. The stockings had been filled. And there were presents surrounding the tree. Instead of staring at the stars, we looked at our Christmas-lit house. I loved Christmas lights. Woody and Jared had done a great job. “Thanks so much for taking that chore on. I love them.”
“It was a male bonding experience.”
Thinking of male fights, like Buck and the contender, I said, “There will probably be a few fights in the future, too.”
“Without a doubt. My dad and I could mix it up when I was in high school.” He got a nostalgic look on his face and laughed. “I’d do anything I could to help him now, of course. Different ages and different stages.” He cocked his head. “Did you hear something?”
I listened for a moment and heard a snort and pounding hoof. “I’m getting cold, dear. Perhaps we should head inside.” After the door closed, I looked out the window. In the colorful glare of our Christmas lights, I saw Buck staring back at me. It isn’t true love, Buck—go find yourself a doe mate!
Although I was grateful for Jared’s gift, I also wondered if I’d ever best Pam. Maybe next year.
The End
Here is the Hatteras version of “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” by Pam Dawson, reproduced with her permission.
“‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” Hatteras-style *
With a nod to Major Henry Livingston, Jr. who wrote the Original Version
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all over the isle,
Not a creature was stirring, mile after mile.
The ghost crabs were snug in their holes on the beach,
Hoping that the high tides would stay out of reach.
The surfers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of gnarly swells danced in their heads.
The crab-pots were hung by the buoys with care,
In hopes that some blue claws soon would be there.
When out on the Point there arose such a clatter,
The Park Service sprang up to see what was the matter.
Away to their vehicles they ran with their lamps,
And began an ascent on all open ramps.
The moon on the sand made quite a reflection,
While waves were crashing in every direction.
When what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a tricked out 4 by 4 and eight island deer.
With a little old driver hunkered down in the truck,
They knew in a moment it must be Old Buck!
More rapid than kite boarders the deer hurried along,
And he whistled and shouted and sang them a song.
“Now Buxton, now Kinnakeet, now Salvo and Frisco –
On Rodanthe, on Waves, on Hatteras – let’s disco!
To the edge of the Point, to the top of the Light,
Let’s have a great time and party all night!
And like dry leaves before a nor’easter did fly,
They hit Highway 12 and continued on by.
He was dressed in a wetsuit from his head to his feet,
And he smelled like Skeeter Beater with a hint of DEET.
A bundle of seashells he had in his pack,
And a bottle of Kill Devil Rum in a sack.
He spoke not a word but took special care,
To bring a gift to the island and all who live there.
It had been a tough year, this the old man did know,
So, his gift was one that didn’t require a bow.
He sprang to his truck and laid on the horn,
To make sure everyone knew it would soon be Christmas morn.
And we heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
NO MORE STORMS, NO MORE OVERWASH, LOTS OF FISH,
And to all, a good night!
*Old Buck mentioned in this poem is a fixture of the “Old Christmas” celebrations still held in Rodanthe. Old Buck is a part of the fabric of the island.
Written by Janet Morrow Dawson, Buxton NC, 2016 and revised as needed each year!
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