Maybe Kitty wouldn’t have to lower her head outside of church tomorrow when the other wives described how wonderful their Christmas day was going with presents under the tree and a turkey in the oven. He had a job now. He would pay back anything to anyone if he could just accomplish one positive thing.
He lifted a lever on the side of the building and brought down the stairs of the fire escape and looked around again. Everything was clear. In less than a minute he was on the second story landing and swung his body onto the roof of the entrance to the store. The tree looked smaller from the pavement. Still, it was doable.
He went to work on the ropes. The knots were tight of course. They would be to prevent the wind from knocking the tree off the roof. And the trimmings were all secured to the branches with heavy twine.
Finally, he lifted the tree and decided to lower it on the side of the building opposite the fire escape. As he did so, the tree went down about half way and then slowly fell to the ground like it had its own parachute.
Everything was going smoothly. He descended the fire escape and walked around the front of the store.
As he turned on the other side of the building to fetch his prize he saw the toothy smile of a beat cop holding the tree in an upright position.
Eugene was speechless. Just then church bells throughout Chestnut Hill proclaimed the midnight hour.
“Merry Christmas,” the cop said.
There comes a time in every man’s life when wreck and ruin are the inevitable consequences of one’s actions.
When the hangman’s knot tightens around your neck and there is simply nothing else you can do. This was that time for Eugene Quindlen.
“Let me guess,” the cop proffered. “You were just walking by in the middle of the night when you saw this poor tree and decided it needed a home.”
Eugene, who was staring at his shoes in mortal shame, lifted his head and shook it in the affirmative.
REGINA | 99