More Milky Way

Oh, now that's shameful - I'm surfing around, working, scribbling, and otherwise taking care of business, and I look at Blogger and see I haven't blogged since the 17th. There goes work, getting in the way of life again.

Here's a little more Milky Way. My hero Kevin's wandered out of the cold into a Lutheran church basement supper and just look what ensues:

But the invitation to sit down was enough for Kevin. And in a minute some of the churchgoers, who really did all seem to look a bit like people Kevin had seen around Crystal Lake but weren't, moved over on the long benches to make room for the pair, and the talking and laughing began again, and the dishes were passed, and soon Kevin and Jan had plates full of roast pork and potatoes and dried-apple crumble in front of them. Kevin felt warmth and the expectation of food flooding his body with relief. He determined to mind his manners and not devour his meal in one gulp like one of those voracious McAllister louts, and picked up his fork.

But before he got a bite in his mouth there was a ruckus at the bottom of the stairs. Miss Fortune's and Miss Demeanour's voices got quite sharp, and a big man, a very big man, bigger than Kevin had ever seen, burst into the church supper. Kevin thought at first he was in a giant costume for some kind of Christmas show. The man wore a great green overcoat and heavy green boots. Kevin had never in his life seen boots dyed bright emerald green like that. He and Jan were separated in the bustle and movement that followed as diners made way for the giant, who strode to the middle of the room and stood there among the long tables, looking around with his green eyes twinkling like bottle glass, and boomed out,

"Who's up to a Christmas challenge, then?"

And when there was no answer, he cried out again. "Anyone? Anyone at all? Don't tell me there are no takers!"

"I'll answer that call," said a man a little to Kevin's right, startling him. The man was slight and lean and long-fingered, with ginger hair and a mustache, rather like Kevin imagined Mr. Arthur would have looked when he was younger, if he had ever stopped to think about it.

But Kevin was thinking of the flash of red cloth he thought he had seen just a moment before, in the back of the church basement.

"No . . . I will," said Kevin, stepping forward.

Now, Kevin didn't know what Lucy would be doing out at a Lutheran church basement supper so late on Christmas Eve. Maybe Mr. Arthur was there, too, and he didn't see him. But Kevin knew that red hood. He hadn't forgotten how Lucy looked at him after he dove to sweep the wandering George out of the way of the dun cow's kick. He would have liked to see that look again.

"I'll do it," he said again. He didn't particularly like the amusement that showed in the big man's green eyes, but he looked into them all the same. "What's the challenge?" he asked, at the same time realizing that maybe he ought to have asked that before.