The Awakening of Russell Henderson

Every Sunday, I try to post an excerpt from my novel, The Awakening of Russell Henderson. Here’s another. The book is available at

I am a little late with this Sunday’s post. Spacing off????

We hadn’t eaten much earlier. I was getting hungry and had to slow down on the beer or I wouldn’t make it to dinner. At 3:00 we were called to sit. Hanna, Karen, myself, and, of course, Mick sat together at the long table. As soon as we were seated, the host called us to attention, reminding us that it was Thanksgiving and each of us were to turns giving thanks for at least one thing in our lives. Hanna’s turn came and she looked at me, smiling, gave me a peck on the cheek, “I’m thankful Russell picked me up along the road somewhere in Iowa sometime last summer.”

I said, I’m thankful I had the foresight to stop and pick up this beautiful amazing woman back in Iowa sometime last summer. And I thank Meg and Frank for giving us shelter for these last few months. It has been an incredible journey.”

“It was Karen’s turn and she said, “I give thanks for having my sweet and loving young brother who got me out here to this beautiful place . . . and for my new friend, Mick.” 

Mick said, “I give thanks for meeting Karen, here. And I extend a big thank you to Russell also for bringing Karen to us.”

I looked at Karen and she was blushing, smiling and had tears running down her face. I also saw they were holding hands under the table. 

Immediately after the after the last person had given their thanks, a bevy of waitpersons appeared pouring wine, setting enormous amounts of the traditional turkey, mashed potatoes, dressing, gravy, vegetables, cranberry sauce, rolls, along with vegan and vegetarian dishes. Unlike the Thanksgiving dinners I had been at, this was one of slow, deliberate eating, talk, toasts, cheers, wine. The meal lasted close to two hours. When everyone was finished the waitpersons magically appeared again, sweeping all dirty plates, utensils, leftover food and, glasses from the table. This was followed by a further waitperson assault serving us all with pumpkin pie a la mode and desert wines. 

By six, people began getting up and moving about. Appetites satiated, they moved towards more after dinner wines and continued conversation. Mick said loudly, “Let’s play some music.”

From nowhere, guitars, fiddles, mandolins, banjos, whistles, flutes, and Mick’s bass appeared. Tuned up, we launched into music, singing, and dancing. By 9:00, the temperature was dropping and we were slowing down. The food, drink, and copious marijuana had everyone pretty mellowed out. We were home by 10:30 and to welcome sleep.

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