volunteered for anything before; clearly her election as the Virgin Mary had energized her-had made her believe she was capable of miracles, or at least cow costumes.
'Good for you, Mary!' the rector said. But Barb Wiggin and Harold Crosby closed their eyes; Harold did not look well-he seemed to be suppressing vomit,
and his face took on the lime-green shade of the grass at the feet of Christ's disciples, who loomed over him.
'THERE'S ONE MORE THING,' said Owen Meany. We gave him our attention. 'THE CHRIST CHILD,' he said, and we children nodded our approval.
'What's wrong with the Christ Child?' Barb Wiggin asked.
'ALL THOSE BABIES,' Owen said. 'JUST TO GET ONE TO LIE IN THE MANGER WITHOUT CRYING-DO WE HAVE TO HAVE ALL THOSE BABIES?'
'But it's like the song says, Owen,' the rector told him. ' 'Little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes.' '
'OKAY, OKAY,' Owen said. 'BUT ALL THOSE BABIES-YOU CAN HEAR THEM CRYING. EVEN OFFSTAGE, YOU CAN HEAR THEM. AND ALL THOSE GROWN-UPS!' he said. 'ALL THOSE BIG MEN PASSING THE BABIES IN AND OUT. THEY'RE SO B/G^-THEY LOOK RIDICULOUS. THEY MAKE US LOOK RIDICULOUS.'
'You know a baby who won't cry, Owen?' Barb Wiggin asked him-and, of course, she knew as soon as she spoke . . . how he had trapped her.
'I KNOW SOMEONE WHO CAN FIT IN THE CRIB,' Owen said. 'SOMEONE SMALL ENOUGH TO LOOK LIKE A BABY,' he said. 'SOMEONE OLD ENOUGH NOT TO CRY.'
Mary Beth Baird could not contain herself! 'Owen can be the Baby Jesus!' she yelled. Owen Meany smiled and shrugged.
'I CAN FIT IN THE CRIB,' he said modestly. Harold Crosby could no longer contain himself, either; he vomited. He vomited often enough for it to pass almost unnoticed, especially now that Owen had our undivided attention.
'And what's more, we can lift him!' Mary Beth Baird said excitedly.
'There was never any lifting of the Christ Child before!' Barb Wiggin said.
'Well, I mean, if we have to, if we feel like it,' Mary Beth said.
'WELL, IF EVERYONE WANTS ME TO DO IT, I SUPPOSE I COULD,' Owen said.
'Yes!' cried the kings and shepherds.
'Let Owen do it!' said the donkeys and the cows-the former turtledoves. The Littie Lord Jesus It was quite a popular decision, but Barb Wiggin looked at Owen as if she were revising her opinion of how 'cute' he was, and the rector observed Owen with a detachment that was wholly out of character for an ex-pilot. The Rev. Mr. Wiggin, such a veteran of Christmas pageants, looked at Owen Meany with profound respect-as if he'd seen the Christ Child come and go, but never before had he encountered a little Lord Jesus who was so perfect for the part. It was only our second rehearsal of the Christmas Pageant when Owen decided that the crib, in which he could fit-but tightly-was unnecessary and even incorrect. Dudley Wiggin based his entire view of the behavior of the Christ Child on the Christmas carol 'Away in a Manger,' of which there are only two verses. It was this carol that convinced the Rev. Mr. Wiggin that the Baby Jesus mustn't cry. The cat-tie are low-ing, the ba-by a-wakes, But lit-tle Lord Je-sus, no cry-ing he makes. If Mr. Wiggin put such stock in the second verse of 'Away in a Manger,' Owen argued that we should also be instructed by the very first verse. A-way in a man-ger, no crib for his bed, The lit-tle Lord Je-sus laid down his sweet head.
'IF IT SAYS THERE WAS NO CRIB, WHY DO WE HAVE A CRIB?' Owen asked. Clearly, he found the crib restraining. ' 'THE STARS IN THE SKY LOOKED DOWN WHERE HE LAY, THE LIT-TLE LORD JE-SUS, A-SLEEP ON THE HAY,' ' Owen sang. Thus did Owen get his way, again; 'on the hay' was where he would lie, and he proceeded to arrange all the hay within the creche in such a fashion that his comfort would be assured, and he would be sufficiently elevated and tilted toward the audience-so that no one could possibly miss seeing him.
'THERE'S ANOTHER THING,' Owen advised us. 'YOU NOTICE HOW THE SONG SAYS, 'THE CATTLE ARE LOWING'? WELL, IT'S A GOOD THING WE'VE GOT COWS. THE TURTLEDOVES COULDN'T DO MUCH 'LOWING.' '
If cows were what we had, they were the sort of cows that required as much imagination to identify as the former turtledoves had required. Mary Bern Baird's cow costumes may have been inspired by Mary Beth's elevated status to the role of the Virgin Mary, but the Holy Mother had not offered divine assistance, or even divine workmanship, toward the making of the costumes themselves. Mary Beth appeared to have been confused mightily by all the images of Christmas; her cows had not only horns but antlers-veritable
