section7mfu | QuoteMe Challenge # 6 "The Light of a Star" PART 2

20110430-mex-can05

Napoleon loaded up the supplies, and turned to head back to the front of the store and as soon as he heard the words being bellowed he knew there was trouble. He put down his shopping basket, undid his coat, quickly drawing his gun from it’s holster. At the same time he ducked down, creeping along the aisle until the would-be robber was in sight.

The old man saw him coming, and though he tried to hide his surprise, his eyes widened at the sight of the dark-haired man with a gun in his hand.

Solo moved carefully but as bad luck would have it, he took one more step and the floorboard just had to creak.

Between the look in the shopkeep's eyes and the noise, the robber turned, ready to fire his pistol. Napoleon dove forward, hitting the man with his shoulder, right in his midsection. The two men went flying against a display of boxed pasta, sending it flying helter skelter.

Solo had no time to use his Special, and knew he needed to disarm his opponent before anything deadly happened.Together they wrestled, grappling for control of the gun as they rolled across the floor.

Finally Napoleon was on top of him and wrenched the gun free, turning it on the man.

“I’d hate to use this, it being Christmas Eve, but give me an excuse and I will.”

“No worries Mista...I’m sorry. I needed the money for my mother. She’s sick and we didn’t have any dough for the medicine, you undastand, don’tcha?”

Napoleon pulled the fellow up by his jacket, shaking his head. “Is that the truth?”

“God’s honest truth...there ain’t even no bullets in the gun, so I couldn’t have hurt the old man. Please you gotta believe me?”

Suddenly feeling sentimental, Napoleon pulled out his wallet. “How much does your mother’s medication cost?”

“Fifteen dollars…”

“Here’s, twenty five. Get her her prescription and a nice Christmas present too.”

The young man stood wide-eyed, not believing what was happening.”

Napoleon tucked the pistol in his pocket,”I’ll keep this if you don’t mind...better to remove temptation.”

“Yeah, sure Mista. I promise I won’t do nothin' stupid like this again.” He turned to the shopkeep,” I’d like to apologize to you, I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Hey, nobody gotta hurt, that’s what counts. Waita here justa minute.” The shopkeep quickly gathered a bag of groceries, handing it to the boy. “Here, you make a nice Christmas dinner for your mama, okay?”

“Thanks Mr. Valenti...wow this is like a Christmas miracle.” The young man picked up the bag, after stuffing the cash in his pocket, and recalcitrently backed his way out the door, disappearinginto the night.

“Signor, how can I thank you? You save my life and his too?”

“No thanks necessary, I’m just glad I was here to stop something bad from happening.

Mr. Valenti packed up the groceries for Napoleon. “Please, take a these...ona the house Signor.”

“No sir. I pay my debts,” Napoleon smiled, waving him off. He reached into his wallet, and suddenly realized he’d given away all his cash. Looking up in embarrassment, he knew he had to take the man up on his offer.

“See, Goda makes things happen for a reason Signor.” Mr. Valenti handed the two paper sacks of groceries to Napoleon. “God bless you Signor. I have witnessed it tonight. The boy was right...a Christmas miracle.”

“Well I don’t know about that sir. I was just at the right place at the right time.”

“Hey, who’sa to say God did not guide you here to me?” The old man winked.

Mr. Valenti saw Napoleon to the door, locking it behind him and turning a little sign that hung there to say ‘closed.’ He waved goodbye and disappeared behind his counter, shutting off some of the lights.

The snow was falling steadily now as Napoleon Solo put a good leg under it, heading back to the brownstone, now feeling quite light-hearted. All was right with the world, if just for this brief moment. Some good had been done tonight, there was a momentary peace that people were sharing. A holy and blessed peace, and one he hoped he could get two stubborn Russians to feel.

That would be his last endeavor of the evening, making dinner and having Illya and Yelena see the light…. of a star showing the way for everyone and giving the message that we’re all part of a bigger picture, one where we have to look out for our fellow man. They probably couldn’t see it in the sky, but it’s meaning shown clear….peace on earth and good will to all men, and women, of course.

Napoleon wondered if he had been indeed guided to that shop by a greater power…but a gust of cold wind distracted him from that fleeting thought

He reached the door of the brownstone, rang the doorbell and gave his coded knock. Hearing Illya’s voice call out to verify who it was; he answered. “Yeah, it’s me buddy, now open up...it’s cold and I have a dinner to make.”

The Russian helped him with the grocery bags, taking them to the kitchen and unpacking them on the table.

“You have the makings of several feasts here my friend.” Illya cocked his brows when he removed two bottles of chianti from one of the bags.”

Napoleon shook his head, smiling, as he hadn’t seen Mr. Valenti pack those.

“Go ahead and open one tovarisch,” we might as well enjoy some holiday cheer while I prepare dinner. Just need to cook up the chicken and the pasta...warm the meatballs. It’ll be ready in no time.

Solo took some mismatched mugs from the cabinet. “Sorry no wine glasses, but these’ll do.”

Illya’s countrywoman wandered into the kitchen just as the wine was being poured.

“Chianti? I just adore that...though it has been a long time since I had some. The last time was five years ago when I was in Rome with Papa…it was Christmas then too.”

Napoleon handed her the drink and watched the woman’s eyes close as she held it in two hands, sipping it; she smiled, recalling a distant and seemingly happy memory.

In no time the kitchen was warm and toasty from the heat of the oven and the burners on the stove. Napoleon chased Illya and Yelena to the sitting room handing them a plate of bruschett, salami and olives. “Don’t stuff yourselves,” he laughed, knowing with Illya that wasn’t possible.

“Go...shoo! Leave the master chef to his work. Sit and stare into the fire...it’ll do you some good.”

The Russian compatriots did just that, sitting on the sofa, sipping their wine and looking at the crackling fire. It was mesmerizing, to say the least.

“I remember the hearth in my grandmothers dacha,”Illya whispered in Russian.” We would sit in front of it at Christmas...Papa would play his squeeze box after we said our devotions in front of the icon of the Madonna set on the mantle….” his voice trailed off and his eyes glazed over just a little bit as he sipped his drink.

“Do you still believe Illya?”

“Nyet.” That simple answer was enough for Yelena not to ask more...

Napoleon called them into the kitchen, having the table set as best he could; he didn’t have much to work with. Though it was filled with scrumtious food...plates of garlic bread, the palmeni, chicken and meatballs. He had a heaping bowl of spaghetti in the center of it all, garnised with delicious smelling gravy.

They seated themselves, and Illya raised his mug, “To the founder of the feast.”

“Ah, quoting a ‘Christmas Carol’ I see,” Napoleon smiled.”See there is a bit of the holiday in you wanting to come out tovarisch.”

His parter put on a haughty air, acting as if he’d been insulted, but could only maintain that demeanor for a second or two before he started to laugh.

“Perhaps tonight, and just for tonight mind you, I will admit to you being right.”

“My heart be still,” Solo grabbed his chest.”And you Yelena, how do you feel?”

“I must say, Napoleon the setting, the wine, the food, and the company have made me think of things that have long remained hidden in my heart. I feel as though I have seen a bright light tonight.

“A Christmas star perhaps,” the American nodded with a ray of hope in his heart.

“Perhaps…” Illya and Yelena replied together.

“Then may I raise my...umm, glass again?” Solo asked.” Merry Christmas.”

“S Rozhdestvom!” The two Russians chimed in, returning his toast…the light of a star and the joy in an American's heart calling their spirit awake, if just for one night.