WENDELL

Wendell’s family was sitting around the large planked table his great-grandfather crafted with the extended family all in a joyous mood. It was Easter Sunday and a special time of the year so everyone was joyous with the special feast and festivities with a table was filled with smoked hams and sausages, bread, eggs and horseradish.

He was busy picking out the best parts of the soup when he noticed that the table had slowly gotten very, very quiet. He figured it was because everyone was as entranced with the meal as he was so first he ate the beef and then the carrots, then the noodles and gravy and saving the glass of milk for last.

But as the silence became deafening, he glanced up from this steaming bowl and noticed that no one was eating and everyone was staring at… Him! With a slurp and a smile, he tried to ignore it but it soon became obvious that he was the unwanted center of attention.

Becoming truly uncomfortable in his own skin, he asked, to no one in particular, “Why are you all looking at me?” There was no response or reaction from the frozen dozen around the table. He asked again and again and still…. nothing.

Finally, cousin Sophie whispered: “Dearest Wendell. Don’t be so suspicious. We are only your family here and we love you so much. We want to enjoy our day just as much as you. Why would we stare at you? You are so ugly and small? What can we do? You are only in our line of vision and cannot look anywhere else except straight ahead at you!”

This went on and on until Wendell became unbearably self-concious and red in the face. Then he got very, very angry and his head throbbed. They kept staring and denying and denying and staring until he finally burst out with a yelp and a scream that they were all playing a big, nasty trick on him and he didn’t like it one, little bit. It was only after this outrageous outburst that his mother came from the stove and hit Wendell with a big wooded spoon across the back of his head with a THWAAAACK telling him not to be such a difficult, difficult child on such a happy, happy occassion.

Once again, there was a silence but this time it was strangely calm and soothing but then a hideous howl of laughter erupted as everyone pounded the table spilling milk and soup everywhere. Vater yelled down from the loft “What’s going on?” and everyone, including Wendell, said ‘Oh, nothing at all!” Even his Mutter had to stiffle her gleeful joy and obvious smirk as she hurried back to her “business” in the big pot of soup on the stove.

Only after the Fall did Wendell understand this was a centuries old game in the Homeland that made them a unique and close people and he couldn’t wait until it was his turn to stare and deny and stare and deny.