Red Tin

 "Christmas is doing a little some extra for someone..." -Charles M. Schulz

 Mr. and Mrs. Bee lived across the road from us. Many moons ago. They had a   Gigantic German Shepherd called Athena.   They let her sit at the open front door to watch people come and go. There was a screen.  I always wondered if it was strong enough. Mr. Bee used to take her for walks. Well, that is, Athena would drag  him around the block twice a day. Mr. Bee would mop his brow after the walks . 

One day,  in the summer, Mr. Bee died......

At Halloween,  Mrs. Bee made her usual assortment of treats for the neighbourhood kids.  Chocolate AND butterscotch fudge, hand dipped Taffy apples, popcorn balls dipped in caramel that ooozed and dripped. Suckers of hard candy in red and green. Salt water taffy tinted various shades of pastels. 

At Christmas, Athena  accompanied Mrs. Bee across the road to our house. She brought over a red tin full of  sweets. Athena kept her nose tightly close to that tin. She wimpered when Mrs. Bee handed it to my mother.

Leftover sweets from Halloween. My mother   always thanked her.  Over Christmas we nibbled at the contents. Dried up. crumbling. An odd taste about them.....  
                    
                
   Most of the time, we would throw away the contents. Mrs. Bee always wanted the red tin back. They had known each other for something like twenty years already, at that time. They were good friends. "It doesn't matter", my mother would say. "She remembers us, that's what counts...."

It was my task, around New Year's, to take the red tin back across the street to Mrs. Bee. Next Christmas, the same tin would be sent back to us. Always filled with  old funny tasting sweets.Year in. Year out. 

  My mother always said one should not return a container empty. So she'd plunk in one of her loaf fruitcakes. Doused with sherry. It could light up the sky.

  New Years Eve found me sitting in Mrs. Bee's parlour. Fruitcake in said red tin. On the coffee table. Mrs. Bee had already toddled off to get me a glass of Tang.

 That's when Athena would come sidling in. She'd circle. And circle.Ears up. Eyes on that fruitcake sitting in the red tin....

  Glistening with sloshing sherry. Cherries popping thru.  Like so many oozing pimples. That cake was asking for it.

   BAM! Athena launched herself at the cake.  BAM! Table rattled.

Fruitcake flew. Cherries soared.  Athena ran off. In the other room,Mrs. Bee shrieked and shrieked.  I sat giggling at the mess. I never told my mother. Just like my mother never told Mrs. Bee. 

  Every year it was the same. Mrs. Bee would send over sweets that we were rather sure Athena had licked. And my mother would send back a the yearly  fruitcake. Like clockwork. Turned out, it wasn't the cake that Athena was gunning for, but the red tin........ 

 One year I was home to visit, I saw Mrs. Bee. it was many years later. Athena was long gone. Mrs. Bee was very elderly, and was moving in with her daughter. She handed me a red tin. Same tin we'd shared. "You might find it will come in handy someday. Like I did", she said. "I used to keep Athena's dog treats in there. She loved that tin......."
                      

Photographs 2018