I just thought of this story as I was driving home with a signed earnest money contract tonight.  Don't ask me why, but I did.

It happened one Christmas Eve about 10 years after the war.

There was a fellow from a good Catholic family who had two talents. One was shoplifting and the other was picking pockets. The downtown merchants referred to him as Gonif, a Yiddish word that means "thief." The night people called him Ducky Wucky.

Now I can't exactly lay my hands on one distinguishing feature that made him resemble a duck, but there was no doubt. The guy looked like a duck.

A lot of people made their living off the streets back then. People like dirty little unshaven Pee Wee, who sold yesterday's newspapers, and Crazy Frank, who made believe he was photographing you and your car for some secret police agency when you passed him by, and Dirty Gertie, the newspaper vendor who sat on a canvas stool in front of the cafe, and Yaga Man, the black fellow with the big toothy grin who would yell "yaga" if you didn't flip him a dime when you passed him by. All were harmless.

It was cold and damp and it had been all that pre-Christmas week. Ducky knew he'd be at midnight Mass with his family on Christmas Eve. It would make God, his mom and Father Dan happy, and it would be profitable because he'd bump into old friends on the way to the communion rail, and by the time he'd get back to the pew, he'd be a few watches and wallets richer.

But what about Pee Wee, Crazy Frank, Dirty Gertie, Yaga Man and the others, he worried?

Miss Jesse was one of the town's best hustling ladies' madams, and she had a big brick home. Every year she'd hang strands of Christmas lights all over it, and she'd up put a huge Christmas tree in the front yard.

Cops, cab drivers, bellboys, waiters and waitresses who had helped Miss Jesse's business during the past year, would drive by on Christmas Eve night, look under the big tree, and find the present from the liquor store that Santa Claus had left especially for them.

So that year, during the days just before Christmas, Ducky went through the downtown dime stores in his big overcoat with the concealed pockets.

He picked up rings, watches and wallets as he bumped into the Christmas shoppers, and he stuffed the big pockets full with this and that from the stores' counters. He took it to his room and wrapped each in Christmas paper and then put name tags on them.

Christmas Eve afternoon, he took a cab out to Miss Jesse's and put the packages he'd wrapped along with hers under the big tree in her yard, then the cab took him on to a neighborhood bar called the Metropole Club.

He knew Arthur Clardy would be there for his after work toddy. Clardy ran a forwarding company, and one of the things his company did was move bailed cotton from the sheds to the wharves on trains of flat wagons pulled by farm tractors. Ducky profusely shook Clardy's hand wishing him and his family a Merry Christmas. All the while Ducky was picking Clardy's car and office keys from his pocket.

Ducky had a 7-Crown and Coke, kibitzed with attorney Sherwood Brown, bar owner Dorothy Graham and pianist George Bushong, then he nonchalantly left.

The door of the club had barely closed before Ducky was swiping Clardy's car and was on his way to the sheds where the tractors and cotton trailers were stored. When he got there he had good fortune. On a table in the shed was a Santa Claus suit that had been used in the downtown Christmas parade.

Ducky grinned as he put on the suit, cap and beard. Then he fired up one of the tractors and hooked it up to a couple of the flatbed trailers. He drove downtown where he picked up Crazy Frank, Pee Wee, Yaga Man, Dirty Gertie and the others.

As they rode down the main street on the flatbed trailers toward Miss Jesse's, Santa led them in carols. He parked in front. Everybody got off and Santa led them to the tree, saying "Ho, ho, ho," over and over again, as authentically as he could, the ever present Old Gold cigarette drooping from the left side of his lips.

As Santa passed out the presents from under the tree in Miss Jesse's yard, the cops, taxi drivers, bellmen, waiters and waitresses started stopped by to get theirs, too. Not one of them saw anything strange about Ducky Wucky being dressed as Santa and his elves being Pee Wee, Crazy Frank, Dirty Gertie and the others.

After all, this was just another Christmas Even in this wacko Texas town.

Copyright 2007 - William S. Cherry