Hail Mary!

This short story is dedicated to my dear friend known to all as Aunt Jean.  She is by God-given nature, the funniest storyteller I know.  She has a magical pair of slightly bent glasses that see the entire world tilted toward the hilarious.  This story is a potpourri of the characters and happenings from her actual lived life. I played with the ending. Thanks for sharing your stories, Aunt Jean, and for a lifetime of friendship, a friendship that rose to every occasion, especially in the worst of times.  You belong with Erma Bombeck in the Hysterical Society.
 
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Oh, how Mary wanted a lace mantilla for Christmas!  Canon Law required Catholic women to cover their heads in church, and the lace mantilla was quickly becoming all the rage among the church-going women in Mary’s rural parish in the winter of 1960.

At first, Mary was subtle in her request.  At mass on Sundays she would whisper to her husband Rudy, “Oh, look at the new mantilla Jenny’s husband brought her from Spain!  And doesn’t Agnes look lovely in her lace mantilla?  Just like the Blessed Mother.”

Rudy didn’t even look up.  He owned and operated the local slaughterhouse and was first and foremost a butcher. His mind was always busy calculating the price of livestock and anticipating the special orders from his regular customers.  Which cut of beef would Mrs. Shelton want for Christmas this year?  She was always trying recipes for dishes he had never heard of.  What on earth was cordoned blue chicken, and why was this woman taking cooking advice from a child named Julia?  And that Davis family with its eight children always peppering him for the meat ends and asking for sale prices…

Mary knew that Rudy worked hard and was a good provider.  She accepted his role as the breadwinner, but, darn it, she was a partner in the family business as well as the bread maker and the one responsible for the family’s salvation.  She’s the one who herded them off to church on time, him with starched shirt collar and folded cloth handkerchief, the twins in matching petticoats with starched netting that gave their Sunday dresses a fashionable flare.  All Mary wanted was a lace mantilla. And she wanted to wear it to Christmas mass.

Christmas came.

Mary got a mixer.

 “What’s this?” she asked Rudy

“A mixer.”

“But I didn’t want tools, I wanted a lace mantilla!”

“I don’t know nothing about lace mantillas.”  That was the end of discussion.  Mary knew it was pointless to persist.  Unless she was talking about a cow’s innards, Rudy’s response was about as deep as he went.

Not one to give up on such an important need, Mary scheduled herself an “appointment.”  “You will have to take the twins with you to the livestock auction.  I have an appointment.”

Rudy did not even ask.  While he could butcher an animal with his bare hands, he feared the details of a woman’s “appointment.” And so, on the day of the auction, with Mary already out of the house, Rudy put the twins into the back of the pickup truck and headed for the silent livestock auction. He hoped to get there early, scout out the livestock, and grab some good seats up front where the children might be entertained by the action.

That evening when Rudy and the girls returned home from the auction, Mary was already at their farm completing evening chores.  She had a new lace mantilla.

Rudy had a new jackass.  The winning bid had been made when one of the twins raised her hand to slap her bored and rambunctious sister upside the head.  The girls named their new purchase “Taffy the Jackass.” The minute Taffy the Jackass bucked her way off the truck it became clear the animal was deranged.  She immediately began terrorizing the family and the neighborhood.  Her size and strength threatened the lives of small children, toppled fences, and trampled gardens.  She ran away frequently and refused to come home.  The county sheriff became a frequent visitor.  The term “Taffy Pull” took on new meaning in this picturesque farm community.  It consumed every spare minute of family time and some of the neighbors’--pulling and coaxing the stubborn jackass from one spot to another.

As all good Catholic mantilla-wearing women do, Mary feared that Taffy the Jackass was punishment for wanting something for herself—for coveting that lace mantilla. Humbled by a jackass, Mary had seen the light and done her penance.  Now, Taffy the Jackass had to go.

A neighbor woman who also wanted a lace mantilla agreed to take Taffy if Mary would throw the lace mantilla into the deal.  The neighbor knew Taffy, and so without shame or guilt, Mary sealed the deal. Gone was the lace mantilla.  Better yet, gone was Taffy.  Peace was restored, and so was Mary’s soul.

The next Christmas Mary requested nothing.  And Rudy didn’t ask.  He gave Mary some white doilies his mother had crocheted.  Mary accepted the doilies, put one on her head and wore it to church.  This move by Mary is said to have launched the chapel cap craze that continued until 1983 when the Catholic Church finally dropped the head covering requirement for women.
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Hail Mary!