A Christmas Visitor

Frank Di Silvestro

Description

The Christmas visitor has amnesia. He doesn’t know it’s Christmas, but he discovers it. He represents the love of Christmas by helping others.
A handsome, thirty-year-old man, talented in various fields, is suffering from amnesia. On a cold winter night, he finds himself lost, cold and hungry on the main street of a town in North Dakota. He doesn’t know how he has arrived in this town and he knows nothing about himself. Occasionally an image from the past enters his mind. But it quickly fades away, leaving him confused and bewildered. He enters a diner and learns the name of the town is Brookville and that it is a few days before Christmas. He discovers he has no wallet or money to pay for the meal he has eaten. Andy, the owner, trusts him to pay for the dinner at another time and allows him to stay for the night in his brother’s hotel. Not remembering his name, glancing at the menu, he tells Andy his name is Mark Menu. Andy invites him to a Christmas Eve part at The Church of Our Lord Dinning Hall. In the following days Mark Menu becomes a popular person in Brookville because of his helpful kindness toward others as they all wish him a Merry Christmas. In the end he remembers who he is and goes home, sadly disappointing the girl who has fallen in love with him.

Sujets

• Amnesia
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: LifeRich Publishing
• Date de parution: 18 janvier 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781489731838
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

A CHRISTMAS VISITOR
 

 
 
 
 
Frank Di Silvestro
 
 
 

 
Copyright © 2023 Frank Di Silvestro.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
LifeRich Publishing is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.
 
 
LifeRich Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.liferichpublishing.com
844-686-9607
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
ISBN: 978-1-4897-3182-1 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4897-3181-4 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4897-3183-8 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020921860
 
 
LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 01/17/2023
CONTENTS
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
DEDICATION
During the publishing of A Christmas Visitor , I was an eighty-nine-year-old disabled veteran, a former Presidential Honor Guard. I began to write in my late eighties, and it has been somewhat therapeutic. If it weren’t for my beautiful younger actress wife, Kerann Havilland, who has inspired and taken care of me, I wouldn’t have been able to write this book.
1

H E WAS LOST. WHERE AM I? he wondered as he walked along a street he didn’t recognize. It was dark, and he saw cheerful, colorful lights along the street and in some store windows; but he was too confused and distracted to pay attention to them. He felt cold, hungry, and frightfully alone. He looked up at the street sign in the lamplight. It read, “Main Street.” He saw some huge snowflakes dancing across the sign. What pretty snowflakes! He began to shiver. To warm himself, he folded his arms across his chest and saw that he was wearing a long-sleeved blue shirt, darker blue slacks, and black shoes. His clothes were clean and of good quality. He ran his hand across his chin and realized he hadn’t shaved in days.
He saw a diner down the street near the corner. He walked toward it. It should be warm in there, and I can get something to eat. The blue neon sign read, “Andy’s Diner.” He entered the diner and saw some people sitting at tables and in booths. A waitress in her early twenties with a blond ponytail and a cute figure caught his eye as she took an order from some young men in a booth who were flirting with her. With interest, he saw her look toward him to avoid the flirtatious teasing of the young men. Their eyes met. Embarrassed, he turned his head and saw that there were no customers at the counter. He decided to sit there.
Andy, the owner, a pleasant-looking man in his forties, emerged from the kitchen behind the counter and came up to him. “Good evening,” he said, handing him a menu.
“Thanks,” he said, studying the menu for a minute. “I’ll have the steak dinner.”
“What kind of vegetables do you want? I’ve got corn on the cob, broccoli, a baked potato––”
“I’ll take it all … I’m very hungry.”
“Want something to drink while you’re waiting?”
“Yes, coffee.”
“Do you want a salad?”
“Yes, with oil and vinegar. Light on the vinegar. And please bring some bread with butter.”
“How do you like your steak cooked?”
“Hmm, let’s see,” he replied, placing his hand on his chin, thinking deeply. “Medium to well should be all right.”
When the meal was placed on the counter before him, he studied it with ravenous delight. Andy was amused by his expression as he thinly smiled and then walked away. He ate somewhat voraciously. For dessert, he had another cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. After he finished his meal, he stood up and searched his pockets for the money to pay. But his pockets were empty. He had no money, and this bewildered him.
Andy was curiously scrutinizing his performance.
“Gee, I’m sorry,” he said, innocently holding up a comb he had found in one of his back pockets. “I have no money.”
“Look in your wallet,” Andy said.
“I have no wallet. All my pockets are empty.”
“No wallet?”
“I don’t know where it is.”
“Maybe it’s in your car.”
“I don’t have a car.”
“How did you get here? I know you don’t live around here. I know just about everybody in Brookville.”
“Brookville … is that where I am?”
“That’s right. How did you get here?”
“I don’t know. I was walking down the street, and I checked the sign on the lamppost. This is Main Street, that’s all I know.”
“Are you lost?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” Andy thought about this for a moment. “What’s your name?”
“Name?”
“Yeah, your name.”
He was confused.
“C’mon, your name. Is it Peter? John? James? Mark?”
“Mark, I guess.”
“You guess.” He laughed a little. “Are you kidding me? Is it really Mark?”
“That seems right.”
“Are you putting me on with vague responses?”
“No,” he said, somewhat apologetically.
“You really don’t know where you are?”
“Now I know. You told me––Brookville,” he said with a self-conscious chuckle.
“Did you come from the Parker Psychiatric Hospital?” Andy asked in a deliberately lighthearted manner. He was serious, but he didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings. “You know, it’s only about two miles from here.”
“No,” he replied. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“I get it,” Andy said with an amused smile. “I figured it out. You’re high. You’re in a fog. Have you been drinking? Are you on drugs? Have you been smoking marijuana?”
The pretty blonde waitress, on her way to the kitchen, momentarily stopped when she heard the words “drugs” and “marijuana.” She looked at him and thought, What’s this all about? I’ve never seen that good-looking guy before . She stared at him to see what he was going to say.
“I don’t drink alcohol, and I don’t use drugs.”
The waitress softly smiled to herself. Well, that’s nice. He’s a got a classy way about him. She continued on to the kitchen.
“I apologize for bringing it up,” Andy said. “But young people sometimes come in here high.”
“I understand.”
“Tell me something. How can you order a meal and not know if you have the money to pay for it?”
“I just did it. I’m sorry. I felt hungry and cold. I’ll do anything to make it up. I’ll wash dishes. I’ll wash this floor, the windows. You name it.”
“Where did you come from?”
“I don’t know.”
As the waitress went by carrying her tray and heard them, she murmured to herself with a soft chuckle, He’s an angel that fell from the sky and landed in Brookville to celebrate Chris tmas.
“Now there you go again with vague answers,” Andy said as he shook his head. “Normally, it’s not my business to know anything personal about a customer. But I think I have a right to be curious about a customer who says he’s lost and hasn’t paid for his meal. And I’d like to help you in some way.”
Help me? Mark thought. This surprised and pleased him. “Gee, thanks. I don’t have a place to sleep for the night, and it’s very cold out there. “I’ll have to get a jacket.”
“No money, no identification, no jacket, no place to sleep for the night––you don’t look crazy to me, but you’re telling me crazy things.”
“Do you know where I can sleep for the night?”
“Across the street in the James Motel. My brother owns it. I guess I can call him and tell him to let you stay for the night. It’s on me. He’s always got some empty rooms. It’s the Christian thing to do. This Saturday is Christmas.”
“It is?”
“Didn’t you know?”
“Maybe I just forgot.”
“Forgot Christmas? Didn’t you see the Christmas lights on my window? All the store windows and trees on Main Street are lit up with lights.”
“I wasn’t concentrating, I guess. I was too distracted about being lost. When I go out, I’ll look at them. I like Christmas lights. What’s today anyway?”
“It’s Wednesday.”
“So it’s Wednesday and it’s winter, and this Saturday is Christmas,” he said with concern.
“And Brockville gets very cold. No one can walk around this town in the middle of winter without wearing a jacket. You’ll freeze to death. Joe the hobo—well, you wouldn’t know who he is, but he froze to death one night out there on Main Street. They found him in a doorway. I used to feed him. We tried to help him. I guess some people are just born to be hoboes.”
This saddened Mark. “It’s too bad someone didn’t see him lying there and take him to a hospital. He might still be alive today.”
“Joe the hobo in a hospital! He’d scream to the high heavens if you tried to bring him to a hospital. I tried many times.”
“I could’ve saved him,” Mark murmured to himself.
“What did you say?” Andy asked. He hadn’t heard him.
He didn’t answer. The cold weather was on his mind. “Do you know where I can get a jacket?”
“I’ve got jackets and coats at home that I never wear. It’s a sin. I buy them, but I never wear them. I’m in the diner most of the time. My wife just ordered a beautiful parka from the Blair catalog. It’s … what’s that color? It’s dark, brownish gray.”
“Taupe?”
“That’s it—taupe.” Andy’s eyes narrowed curiously as he studied Mark. He was impressed that he knew the precise