The Great Turkey Fiasco of ‘65

Everyone’s memory of that Thanksgiving was different

Andy’s mother got up at five in the morning to start working on the big Thanksgiving Day meal — at least that is what she said. Andy could not know for sure since he did not get up until seven-thirty. What he knew for sure is that when he went downstairs for breakfast the kitchen did not smell right. It did not smell like breakfast. It smelled like dinner. The whole day started off wrong.

Andy was eleven years old. His older brother, Jake, was thirteen and their baby sister, Sarah, was seven years old. On a few occasions, Andy had heard his mother refer to Sarah as their, ‘Happy accident.’ At the time he did not know what that meant but he eventually figured it out.

Andy’s parents and siblings lived on a military base out in the middle of the desert. Andy’s father had recently come home from a year spent in Korea. While Andy truly missed his father while he was gone, his father seemed somewhat distant upon his return and the relationship between his parents seemed different somehow as well.

As far as holidays went, Andy was never as excited about Thanksgiving as he was about Christmas. This year, though, he was actually excited about Thanksgiving. That is because the Walinskis were coming to visit.

Andy’s father was very close friends with Mr. Walinski. They had served together in the military in Europe after World War II. They both ended up marrying German women and came back to America to raise families. The Walinskis had two children; Greg, who was now thirteen years old and Christine who was now twelve.

The two families got together two or three times a year; one of the families driving to where ever the other one was stationed. Both families currently lived at different military bases in the desert. This year it was only about an hour and a half’s drive for the Walinskis to come visit.

Andy’s older brother Jake became best friends with Greg. They were very close to the same age and their interests were practically identical. They did not care to include the younger children in their play.

Andy and Christine were very close to the same age and there was definitely an attraction but there was the problem of them being of different genders. Andy mostly played with other boys. He had precious little experience playing with girls.

Poor little Sarah did not have anyone her age to play with.

The Walinskis were scheduled to arrive around noon and the big Thanksgiving meal was planned for around four in the afternoon. In addition to preparing the big meal, Andy’s mother also had to prepare some appetizers for after the Walinskis arrived; not a lunch but just some treats to hold everyone over until the big meal.

Andy’s mother had never cooked a turkey before coming to America. They did not eat turkeys where she grew up. But she endeavored to be the perfect American housewife and that involved cooking traditional American meals. So she found a recipe in a magazine for the perfect turkey. She had tried it once before and it did not turn out well at all but she figured that she must have done something incorrectly. How can a recipe in a magazine be wrong? So she decided to use the same recipe and was even more diligent about following it.

According to the recipe, the secret to a perfect juicy turkey was to baste it every twenty minutes for the entire duration of the baking time. A dry, chewy turkey was Andy’s mother’s biggest fear. It had to be juicy. She had a timer on the kitchen counter that was set to go off every twenty minutes and every twenty minutes she pulled the turkey out of the oven and basted it. She remembered that the last time she tried to make a turkey it took a lot longer than what the recipe said it would take so she put the turkey in the oven at ten in the morning. Surely it would be ready by four o’clock.

After the Walinskis arrived the two families sat in the living room eating appetizers and talking. After about half an hour everyone split up. The two fathers took their beers and went out to the backyard to play horseshoes. The two mothers went into the kitchen to talk and repeatedly baste the turkey. Jake and Greg went into Jake’s room to play. Andy and Christine continued sitting in the living room even though the appetizers were all gone. Little Sarah just wandered around.

Eventually, Andy and Christine wandered into the kitchen where their mothers were speaking a mile a minute in German. “Oh God,” whispered Andy to Christine, “they’re talking German. Let’s get out of here quick.”

Andy led Christine out to the backyard. At the far end of the yard, their fathers were throwing horseshoes, each with a beer in their hands. “You wanna play badminton?” Andy asked Christine.

“Badminton? Okay, sure, I guess.”

“We don’t have a net so we can just hit the birdie back and forth between us.” Andy handed her a racket that had been leaning up against the back of the house. They went out onto the lawn and batted the birdie back and forth.

To Andy’s delight, he found out that Christine was fairly well coordinated and somewhat natural at the game. She was almost as good at the game as he was. Andy could never get his older brother Jake to play badminton with him. Jake had no inclinations towards sports whatsoever. He wondered what Jake and Greg were doing up in Jake’s room. They were probably looking at comic books or doing math or something. He was sure they were not engaged in any kind of sports.

Eventually, Andy’s father went inside to get fresh beers. When he came back outside he stopped and watched Andy and Christine for a moment, “Hey, you guys are pretty good. You wanna play a game of horseshoes?”

“Aren’t you and Mr. Walinski in the middle of a game?”

“Actually, we just finished a game. I can’t keep beating him so maybe we can take a break and watch you two play a game.”

It turned out that Christine was not nearly as proficient at horseshoes as she was at badminton. Andy easily beat her but that was surely because he practiced throwing the shoes fairly regularly. He had gotten pretty good at it. Of course, he hardly ever played actual games since his brother Jake hated horseshoes. But on occasional weekends he would play a game or two with his father.

“You’ve been practicing.”

“Yup.”

“You’re doin’ good. Remember to stay as relaxed as you can. One fluid motion, kind of like bowling. Your left foot should only be a little bit in front of your right foot. And step down only lightly. And don’t grip the horseshoe. Your hand is only guiding it.” Andy’s father was a natural born athlete, excelling at every sport under the sun.

“Okay, Dad. Hey, is it okay if Christine and I go for a walk?”

“Sure. Just don’t get in any trouble.”

“So where are we going?”asked Christine as they walked down the alleyway between the neighborhood homes.

“To the desert. It’s not far.”

“Your parents let you go out in the desert alone?”

“Yeah, but they don’t know that they do.”

They both laughed.

“See, the desert is right there at the end of this block. See those trash cans over there?”

“Yeah.”

“Every day right after the sun goes down the coyotes come and tip those trash cans over looking for scraps to eat.”

“Really?”

“Sometimes there’ll be ten or twelve of them.”

“Oh my God, aren’t you afraid they’ll attack you?”

“Nope. Coyotes don’t generally attack people. They prefer trash I guess.”

“Do you go see them often?”

“No. Usually we’re not allowed outside after dark, what with all the tarantulas and snakes and coyotes. But sometimes when we’re outside playing and it’s starting to get dark I’ll quickly sneak down here to see if any coyotes have arrived yet. Sometimes there will be one or two. Back on Halloween when Jake and I went trick-or-treating and it was already after dark we made it to the end of the block just as a car was driving down the side street. For a minute the headlights of the car shined right at the trash can area and there were a whole bunch of coyotes and the headlights made all the coyotes eyes shine all white. It was so cool.”

“Oh wow, that’s spooky cool.”

“Yeah, that was perfect for Halloween. Of course, Jake freaked out and ran home as fast as he could. I just wanted to keep watching.”

“So there won’t be any coyotes out today, will there?”

“Probably not. They come out in the evening and at night and in the early morning. Most desert critters sleep during the day. Of course, we still need to watch out for snakes.”

“Snakes?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry.” they had crossed the street and entered the desert where Andy went behind a shrubby mesquite plant and picked up a large stick. “One thing I learned in Cub Scouts is that you always have a stick with you in the desert. I made this stick myself from a yucca stalk. If you come upon a rattler you can poke the stick out in front of you and the snake will attack the stick instead of you. And besides, you can walk right behind me so if we stumble on a snake it will attack me instead of you.”

Andy and Christine looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment.

Andy began walking and Christine walked behind him, her eyes glued to the ground looking for snakes. After several minutes the path they were on began descending. After a minute or two of walking downhill, Andy stopped. Christine almost ran into him.

Andy turned around and spread his arms out, “Here we are. What do you see?”

Christine looked around, “Uh…. what? All I see is desert.”

“Exactly! Down here in this arroyo you can’t see the army base because we’re a little lower. It’s right over there,” he pointed, “but we can’t see it. And the desert highway is right over there,” he turned and pointed, “but we can’t see it. From this spot you can’t see any evidence of mankind. All you can see is nature. It’s like totally wild. I love coming here because I can pretend I’m in some unexplored territory and I’m an explorer seeing the land for the first time. I love that.”

Andy pointed with his stick at a nearby rock ledge, “That right there is my favorite spot. I just like to sit there and watch the desert.” He took a couple of steps over to the ledge and started tapping his stick all over it.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just making sure there are no tarantulas around.”

“Oh God, I hate tarantulas. They freak me out.”

“Ha! You should see how much they freak my mother out. Once she was working in her vegetable garden. Luckily she had gloves on. She reached into the plants to pull some weed or something and when she pulled her hand back there was a tarantula on her glove. You never heard anyone scream so loud. She jumped up and flung that glove off her hand as hard as she could then she rounded us kids up and told us to get inside as fast as possible. Once we were all inside she locked the back door — as though the tarantula could get in if the door wasn’t locked.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yeah. We never did find that glove.”

Done poking the area with his stick, Andy then sat down on the rock ledge and patted the spot next to him. Slowly and carefully, Christine stepped over to the ledge and sat down. For over an hour Andy and Christine sat there talking.

When they finally returned to the backyard they saw their fathers sitting in lawn chairs drinking beer. They waved at their fathers who waved back then they went inside the house where they were greeted by pandemonium.

Andy looked at the kitchen clock. It was a quarter til four. His mother had the turkey on the counter where she was basting it. Mrs. Walinski was mashing sweet potatoes on the stove. As Andy’s mother wiped the condensation off the thermometer that was stuck in the turkey she snorted, “Darn it, the turkey still hasn’t come up to the right temperature. This is gonna take longer than I thought.”

Mrs. Walinski stopped mashing, “Maybe it’s because we keep taking the bird out of the oven to baste it. Every time we do that it cools down.”

Andy’s mother was frantic, “But the recipe says to baste it every twenty minutes. If we don’t do that it will be dry and chewy. Oh, this is so ridiculous cooking these big birds...”

As Mrs. Walinski continued mashing, Andy’s mother noticed Andy and Christine, “Where the heck have you two been?”

Andy responded, “We were playing outside then we went for a walk. How’s everything going? Should we get ready for the meal? Do you want us to set the table?”

Andy’s mother put the turkey back in the oven then wiped sweat off her brow, “Uh… no. It’s going to take longer than I thought.” She took off her oven mitts and slammed them on the counter, “I’ll call you when it’s time.”

With Christine following, Andy went upstairs to the room he shared with Jake. He told Christine to wait outside the door while he went inside to get something. He came out of the room with a stack of books and a notebook and they proceeded back down the stairs to the living room where they sat together on the couch as Andy showed her the books from the library that he had been reading. They were all books about animals and explorers and distant lands. He then showed Christine his notebook in which he wrote poetry. He had never shown that to anyone before — not even his brother.

For almost two hours Andy and Christine sat on the couch reading and talking, the sound of feverish rapid-fire German coming from the kitchen in the background, along with the sound of dishes and pots and pans and silverware.

Eventually, Andy went into the kitchen. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was a little past five-thirty, “Is it time yet?”

“No. I’ll let you know when it is.”

Andy noticed that his mother was now alone in the kitchen. He returned to the living room and asked Christine if she wanted to play a little more badminton while there was still some daylight left.

“I guess.”

They went out to the backyard where they saw their fathers once again throwing horseshoes while Mrs. Walinski watched and talked to them, a beer in each of their hands.

Andy and Christine volleyed the badminton birdie until it got too dark to see.

Finally, Andy’s mother opened the sliding glass door and yelled out, “It’s time!”

Everyone went back inside and proceeded to the dining room. The dining table was all set and there were bowls of food in the center. The turkey was on the kitchen counter and had already been carved, the meat being on plates in the middle of the dining table.

Jake and Greg had come downstairs and were taking their seats at the table along with everyone else when Andy’s mother yelled, “Where the heck is Sarah?” She then screamed at the top of her lungs, “Sarah!” She screamed again.

She then told Jake to go upstairs and get Sarah. He was quickly back downstairs, “She’s not upstairs.”

“Where the hell is that little girl? Did she wander off again? Just wait til I get my hands on her. Okay, I guess we can’t start Thanksgiving dinner until we find Sarah.”

Those who were already seated at the dinner table got up. Everyone began wandering through the house looking for Sarah. Andy’s father and Mr. Walinski went out to the backyard and Jake went out to the front yard. Andy’s mother kept screaming Sarah’s name as a frantic search party ensued.

Eventually. Andy had an idea. He went upstairs and went into Sarah’s room. It was empty but Andy walked to the closet and opened the sliding door to the closet. And there was Sarah sitting on the floor of her closet sound asleep.

Andy woke her up and brought her downstairs.

Andy’s mother screamed at her, “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you! We’ve all been worried sick that you wandered off again. How dare you put us through that!” she grabbed Sarah’s arm and started shaking her, “Don’t you ever think about others? Now sit down at the table. It’s time to eat!”

Sarah cried profusely as she went to the table to sit down. Without a word, everyone else sat down.

Andy’s mother looked frazzled. With a deep sigh she said, “Okay, I guess we can start now.”

Mr. Walinski spoke up, “Maybe we can say grace first?”

Andy’s mother seemed startled, “What? Oh…. yeah, I guess.”

Mr. Walinski then said grace after which everyone started piling food on their plates. There was very little conversation during the meal. Andy and Christine sat opposite each other at the table and they often looked up from the food to look at each other but they never said anything.

The white meat of the turkey was dry and chewy and the dark meat was under-cooked. All the other food tasted like leftovers since it had been done for over two hours and had been sitting on the stove waiting for the turkey to be done. As an eleven-year-old boy, Andy gorged himself despite the inferior quality of the meal. Almost no one else helped themselves to seconds.

Very soon after the meal was over the Walinskis announced that they had to leave. It was getting late and there was still plenty of driving awaiting them.

The good-byes were quick and perfunctory. Standing outside the front door of their home, Andy’s family watched and waved as the Walinski family got in their car and drove off into the desert night. The Walinskis never again came to visit and the family never again visited the Walinskis.

And Andy never saw Christine ever again.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction.