A Very Cokie Christmas Story (in Yankeeland) Pt. 1
Young Alice Johnson next to the family Christmas tree in the family's home in Belmont, MA (1934)
Young Alice Johnson next to the family Christmas tree in the family's home in Belmont, MA (1934)
Bobby Johnson awoke bright and early on December 12th, 1934. He bounded down the steps and joined his siblings, all of whom were buzzing with excitement. It was the last school day before Patriot-Saints' break, although he still thought of it as Christmas break. Momma had been busy at work decorating the inside of the house with Christmas paraphernalia. As Cokie citizens on American soil, they had extraterritorial privileges regarding Christmas celebrations, so long as they "kept all celebrations private from the general populace." This meant that the Johnson residence was Patriot-Saints on the outside (except for the proudly hung Moon and Stars) and Christmas on the inside. Looming over the table was a large poster of Jolly Joshua, resplendent in green overcoat and "Scottish tartan" waistcoat, astride a white horse. His littlest sister Alice asked the poster for a new Bridget the Cokie Belle doll this year, and said she'd been real good. Ah, the most wonderful time of the year.
After finishing his breakfast, Bobby grabbed his backpack and ran to meet Vera. Things had been... tense lately. He'd been spending time with both her and Charlotte lately, and while Charlotte wasn't too concerned about his closeness to Vera, she basically had a fit every time he had prioritized Charlotte over her. It had been a rollercoaster to say the least, and one that didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. Still in a holly, jolly mood he bellowed out "Merry Christmas you!"
He got a slap for that one. Vera half shouted, half whispered, "Robert, have you lost your Jehovah-forsaken mind? I know you can celebrate your so-called "Christmas" insanity at home, but that kind of talk in public could get you killed!"
He was about to make a witty retort, but the paleness that had overtaken Vera's face and her, he dared almost say fearful tone, convinced him otherwise. She might be right about that one. "Sorry Vera, just adjusting I guess. This is my first Christmas away from home."
Her face softened a bit. "I know this isn't easy for you. However, you have to adjust! Patriot-Saints Day is a wonderful tradition, and Christmas is popified anyway. You'll see!"
Bobby grimaced "Christmas belongs about as much to the Pope as Vermont does to the damn Ruskies. Especially Cokie Christmas! We've purged all non-Protestant influence from the celebration and made it what its truly about; celebrating Christ!"
Vera pursed her lips and Bobby secretly wished he could blow his brains out. He recognized that look, and knew that their all-too familiar argument was about to be revived. "Robert, I'll have you know that Father Abraham and other Jehovah inspired men have evaluated the origins of the holiday, and they know that it's a bunch of Papist skullduggery! For heaven's sake, the central figure is a Greek Infee Saint!"
"For Christ's sake Vera, how many times do I have to explain this to you: WE. DON'T. HAVE. SAINT. NICHOLAS! We replaced him with Jolly Joshua, a true Protestant paragon of virtue and goodwill!"
"Oh right, "Jolly Joshua." You mean the man literally based on a plantation owner?* That's SOOOOO much better than a Greek. Enslaving fellow Pinnacle Men. How barbaric!"
"There ain't nothing to be ashamed of in his origin! He was a product of the time in which he lived, and a kind and gentle Presbyterian patriarch! He treated his slaves like family, and gave em gifts at Christmas time and whatnot, alongside all the poor whites in the county! That's why he's our symbol!"
"He enslaved African-American Men and Women of Pure Fluids! And now he's used to sell Cokie-Cola and Cokie Belle Dolls! Christmas is a tainted holiday of Papist origin, and ought not to be celebrated Robert!"
Bobby gave an exhausted sigh. "Look, Vera, I'm done having this argument with you. Let's agree to disagree and move on alright? You're getting me all worked up before school."
Feeling like she was on the verge of victory, Vera pressed on "If you admit, just once, that Christmas is a tainted holiday compared to Patriot-Saints Day and is in general a Catholic nuisance, I'll never bring it up again."
The sheer condescension in her voice made Bobby's blood boil. "Jesus Christ, I can't stand you some times! I wanna compromise and you want me to shine your damn shoes! My God woman, I wonder how the Yankee menfolk up here are able to tolerate loud-mouthed broads like you. This kind of stubbornness is exactly why women belong in a kitchen and a nursery, not a damn boardroom or voting booth."
She moved to slap him again, but he saw it coming and caught her hand. They engaged in an extremely tense stare off, before they both broke eye contact. The few remaining moments of their walk were dead silent. Before they went their separate ways for school, Vera leaned in and whispered "I always knew you were a redneck." She sauntered off and gave him a vicious smile, maintaining eye contact with him as she left. Bobby punched a locker, scaring a few people in the hall, and power walked to class.
History class was having a special Patriot-Saints Day themed class that was all about Father Abraham. The President's accomplishments, from his immense physical strength to his talent as an organizer were extolled. It also doubled as a class party, with cookies, snacks, and some bottles of "Lincoln's Brandy" a rather cheap brand that was popular with all ages due to its relatively good taste (for the price) and patriotic branding. Bobby took advantage of it, and used his charms to get as much brandy as he could. It wasn't very smooth, and burned more than he would have liked, but it did the job. He wanted some "Scotsman's Relief" right now, if only to calm him down after another epic blowout with Vera.
History class gave him a good buzz, and thanks to another class party in Chemistry, he was able to keep it going into lunch. He noticed many of his fellow students were not only buzzed, but had brought bottles of brandy to school today. Guess that was a benefit of Yankeeland's non-existent drug and alcohol laws. His table was no different, as Archie and Benedict revealed when they unwrapped brown paper bags with three bottles of the stuff because "You can never be too extravagant when it comes to libations!" These weren't Lincoln's Brandy either. It was high-end stuff, suitable for men and women of aristocratic bearing. Makes sense, Bobby thought, I'm the poorest guy at the table and we do pretty damn well. Bobby handed his cup to Archie and said "Fill 'er up Captain!"
"You got it Bobby. Anything for our 6-0 middleweight! With you around, we'll beat Ol' Lex seven ways to Sunday!"
They laughed and Bobby took his surprisingly full cup. He took a sip and nodded approvingly. "This is some damn good stuff if I may say so. Much better than Lincoln's."
Archie wrinkled his nose and laughed "Lincoln's is fine if you're a plebeian, but true Strong Men know that its swill. This comes from our family's private distillery up in New Hampshire. High quality stuff, hell even Supreme Chief Patton has sampled it and found it pleasing."
Nodding again, Bobby downed more of the amber liquid and started eating his lunch. His lunch-mates filed in and soon the table was laughing uproariously, full of holiday cheer. Well, most everyone. Bobby and Vera refused to speak to each other, and tried to compensate by talking to everyone else. However, such an event was not going to go unnoticed. This time, it was Doug Shay, who had an arm wrapped around his sister and a full cup of brandy, who noticed the lack of interaction between the two.
"Say Bob, Vera, do you two have horse blinders on? You're acting like you can't see each other."
Grimacing, Bobby power-chugged his expensive brandy and replied "We're just taking it easy Doug. We had a bit of a... doctrinal dispute this morning and need to cool off." Vera nodded in concurrence.
Archie piped up, "Jesus Christ Vera, you got on to him about Christmas again, didn't you? I'm sure Bobby said something about it he shouldn't have in public, no offense Bobby, but jumping Jehovah, you've been on him about that for two straight weeks! You started with him about it after he beat those guys from Jamaica Heights and ruined his evening! I don't like it either, but if President Steele says Cokie Christmas is ok, then it's ok. Leave well enough alone."
Filling his glass once more (and feeling some Scottish Courage) he shouted "Thank you Archie, for being a sensible man! It's nice to hear some common damn sense instead of getting yelled at."
Ella, however, jumped in on Vera's side "Archie, darling, I feel like you're forgetting that Christmas is a PAPIST holiday! Even if the Cokies have cleaned it up a bit, it has a bad foundation."
Vera raised her glass and said "Hear, hear E! A true Pinnacle Woman!"
Charlotte then interjected and said "If the Cokies have cleaned it up, it can't be that bad. Lincoln, Custer, and Steele have all been perfectly accepting of Cokie Christmas tradition, just like they acknowledge Patriot-Saints Day. President Steele even sends Chancellor Gamble a "Season's Greetings" card every year as a show of friendly cooperation and respect for differences! You really ought to cut Bobby some slack."
Vera, who was quite a few drinks deep, narrowed her eyes at Charlotte. "Well of course you would think that Charlotte."
Charlotte locked her eyes with Vera's "And what exactly do you mean by that, my darling co-captain?"
Finishing her glass, Vera half shouted "What I mean, you insufferable bimbo, is that ever since that pep rally you cling on to Robert's every word like a child to her father's, even though he doesn't know what the hell he's doing or saying half the damn time! God you're such a Fluid-craving slut, throwing yourself at him like an Irishwoman!"
The whole table was stunned by the uncharacteristic attitude Vera was showing, but she wasn't finished yet. She turned to Bobby and yelled in his face "As for you, you goddamned Cokie son of a bitch, I can't stand to look at you. I taught you how to assimilate here. I welcomed you in. I told you what you needed to do to survive here! But now you swagger around like some kind of Southron plantation lord, doing whatever you want without any thought to reason or consequence, and you could obviously give a damn about what I say or do! Now, you just follow Charlotte around and act like a Southron asshole, with your Merry Christmases and your Yee Yee's! You're a good for nothing, slave-whipping, disrespectful little weasel and I hate you. I hate you! I hate you, and I'm done with you!"
Bobby was at this point clenching his glass so hard that he had to set it down before he broke it in his hand. Brimming with fury, he did the one thing he knew would enrage her more than anything else. While the whole table was still more stunned than anyone had ever seen before, he grabbed Charlotte and kissed her square on the lips. Then he turned to Vera and got up right against her, his lips stained with lipstick, and threw a veritable pound of salt into the wound. "Merry Christmas, you Yankee harpy."
There was no slap. There was no yell. Not a sound was heard in that lunchroom, as even the lunch ladies and teachers were morbidly curious about the drama. Calmly, Vera stood up, and walked out. Bobby felt triumphant for the moment, but it wouldn't last. The brandy wore off a bit after English class, and regret seeped in. Then, he waited after school to walk home with Vera, as they normally did. She was nowhere to be found. He went part of the way with Charlotte, but neither of them were in the mood for conversation. She did give him a peck on the cheek before turning down her street, but even that felt sad in its own way. He marched home, trying not to think at all.
He walked inside, took off his tie, and sighed deeply. His enthusiastic siblings came over to greet and harass him with their usual good natured insults and fighting, but backed away after seeing their forlorn brother, and smelling the brandy reeking off of him. His mother smelled the brandy and started to scold him for drinking like a common Yankee drunk, but quickly stopped as her exhausted son just mumbled agreement with her, instead of being his normal feisty self.
Concerned, she asked "Bobby Boo, is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine momma. And you know I hate that nickname."
"No it ain't young man. I haven't seen you look that defeated in... Bobby I ain't never seen you look that defeated. What's goin on?"
"I promise you, it's nothing. It's just been a long day."
His mother grabbed him and forced him to make eye contact. "Robert Knox Johnson, you're going to tell me what is goin on with you right now, or I'm gonna have you get the biggest switch in the country and give it to me so I can switch you."
Sighing again, Bobby said "It's a girl. That's all I'm gonna say about it."
She gave a knowing chuckle. "I should've figured. Nothin like an enraged woman to take the wind out of a man's sails, especially if she's pretty. I won't press you, but maybe talk to your Daddy about it when he gets home. He's managed me for close to two decades, and that ain't nothin."
Bobby nodded. "Sure momma. There anything to eat?"
"I have some hot cocoa and some light sandwiches. Take all that you want sweetie."
"Thanks momma. You mind if I use the record player?"
"Don't bother, I'll put on any record you wanna listen to. Anything specific?"
"Anything Christmas related. I just need a little Christmas right now."
Standing on her tip toes, momma pecked him on the forehead and went to rummage through the records. He got himself some hot cocoa and some sandwiches and settled into his chair, as the soothing sounds of Christmas music poured from the record player...
* This is who Jolly Joshua is based on: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joshua_John_Ward
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