The Absolute Perfect Name

Photo Credit: Matthew Lancaster

“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmastime.” ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

For the month of December I’m writing blogs about Christmas celebrations of the heart. Today’s musings is a scene from my historical fiction in progress, The Notetaker and Her Compass. It takes place in 1958 in Winnipeg, the year one of my main characters, Adam, has just turned five. I hope it kindles your own childhood memories and I would love to hear one of your stories.

Christmas morning, the three of them were all gathered around the real Fraser fir they’d picked up at the church lot sale, each in their usual places. Frank sat in his leather recliner, Susan on the chesterfield, and Adam cross-legged on the imported Turkish area rug on the floor.

            Adam rifled through all the goodies in his stocking. There was a can of electric blue Play-doh modelling compound, a ball and jacks, and the traditional mandarin orange and candy cane.

“Can I open the parcel from Aunt Annika and Uncle Bjorn?” Adam asked.

“Of course,” both parents answered in unison.

“Look Mommy, it’s what I wanted most of all!” Adam exclaimed with glee as he lifted the Roy Rogers action figure in one hand, and his trusty horse, Bullet, in the other.

Adam pranced the plastic figurines along the wooden floor and Frank excused himself, on the pretense of getting a second cup of coffee, while Susan started tidying up the discarded wrapping paper. Minutes later, Frank returned with a puppy in his arms. Adam was so engrossed with his new toys, he didn’t notice until the bundle of fur bounded over on unsteady paws and almost knocked him over, all the while licking every bit of Adam’s skin he could find.

            “What’s this? Who, are you kidding me?” Adam said, clearly surprised. “Is it, is he ours? Mine? To keep?”

            “He sure is,” Frank said. “Your mother and I decided that since you don’t have a brother or sister to keep you company, a dog would be the next best thing.”

            “You’re not kidding?” Adam said again, his smile turning into a belly-laugh as the dog stepped on his thigh with one paw while putting the other up on his shoulder, his tail wagging back and forth with an energy that matched Adam’s enthusiasm. “A dog is way better than a sister, or even a brother for that matter! Thank you so much!”

            Adam’s laughter exploded in a crescendo of glee as he fell over, the rambunctious black and white ball of fur having knocked him backward, still licking his face and neck.

            “He loves me!” Adam squealed.

            “Yes, well, that’s all well and good, but I don’t imagine letting him lick you all over like that is very hygienic,” Susan half-scolded.

            “Awe Mommy, he’s got the best puppy breath ever, I bet it’s cleaner than you think,” Adam managed to say between fits of giggles. “His scratchy little tongue is so tickly!”

            “C’mere boy,” Frank said, patting the floor in front of him. “Give your new master a minute to compose himself.”

            “Yes, and perhaps you should start thinking about what name you should give him?” Susan said, trying unsuccessfully not to fuss over the pile of fur already accumulating on the rug.

            “That’s a good idea,” Frank said. “What do you think, Adam?”

            Adam pulled himself up, the dog having scampered over to Frank, and wiped both cheeks with the sleeves of his red-gingham pajamas. His face turned from joyful to serious as he considered different names in his head.

            “I don’t know,” Adam said. “I don’t know many dogs, except Snoopy and Lassie from TV, and those won’t do. They don’t suit him at all.”

            “I think you should name him something original,” Susan piped in. “After all, you have such a vivid imagination, always making up elaborate stories for your action figures.”

            Adam’s eyes were drawn to the coffee table, the same height as his mother’s crossed legs. The black and white cover of Elvis Presley’s Don’t be Cruel album caught his eye, Elvis standing with his back turned and head to one side, a hush puppy perched on a platform beside him with a microphone in front and a bored expression on it’s face.

            “How about Elvis?” Adam said, glancing at his mother, then father for approval.

            “Well, Elvis is certainly an original name for a dog,” Frank began.

            “And the absolute perfect name for him,” Susan finished.

The name stuck, and Elvis stuck to Adam like glue too, following him around everywhere he went. Susan tried to convince Adam that Elvis should sleep in the kennel that Frank purchased at the pet store, but Elvis ended up sleeping at the end of Adam’s bed.

When Adam went back to kindergarten after the holidays were over at the beginning of January, Elvis sat patiently and waited by the living room bay window all morning until his return, every single day. Susan was so happy to witness her son’s joy after Elvis joined the family, she didn’t begrudge constantly vacuuming up dog hair and picking up slobbery toys that Elvis left lying all over the house.

Elvis joined Frank and Adam in the back seat of the car on the way to hockey practice on Saturday mornings. Frank didn’t mind for one minute the scratches on the upholstery. In fact, Frank bonded closely with Elvis too. He took on all the hard jobs, like walking him when it was minus forty outside and regular trips to the vet. When Elvis turned five months old, it was Frank who took him to be neutered, even though young Adam insisted on coming along to hold Elvis’s paw right up until it was time for the surgery. And so it was that the Matthew’s became a family of four.

 COMING UP…

Books & Projects:

·      All four of my books are available online at Amazon, Chapters-Indigo, and Barnes & Noble. You can also find them at select Chapters-Indigo and El Hombre de la Mancha bookstores.

·      I am pursuing representation from a traditional publisher for my fifth literary fiction, a psychological drama that explores the complexities of mental illness and trauma. Stay in touch by signing up for my blog or following me on social media to find out when it will be published.

Reviews & Interviews:

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