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A Strange family Christmas

Christmas Eve – Seattle

Twas Christmas Eve, and Rain was up early; at least early for him.  As a member of a respected Estate Team, some would imagine this was not an unusual occurrence. Bruce knew better, and between getting ready for his flight home for the holidays, he was keeping an eye on the little man.

“Does anyone know where Mortimer would be at this time of day?” Rain asked the Mess room, currently only filled with Peggy at a table full of books and papers, and Algernon eating his breakfast of cereal, bacon and coffee all in one bowl. Both shook their heads, “Nevermind, I’ll find him…” He paused, noticing Peggy’s pile of work, “More than your usual mountain of research, what gives so close to Christmas?”

“My mother is twenty years behind current theoretical physics thinking.  I’m putting together crib notes to take over later this morning.” 

“Great, don’t go without me. Oh, and Algernon, you’ll come for a little trip to see the family won’t you?”

Algernon answered slowly, still not looking up from his breakfast.  A bad sign.

“If you’re going,” He finally replied without enthusiasm.

“Er…great, we’ll talk about that.  Right now, I need to find Mortimer.”

“Why don’t you try Admin,” Bruce suggested from the doorway. “He’s one of the recruits. They’ll have his schedule.”

“Twice in two days, they’ll love me!” Rain said more to himself before noticing Bruce for the first time, “Say, when are you leaving?  You wouldn’t want to wish the Martin’s a Merry Christmas, would you?”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully, “I’d like to see how the boys are doing. I can get my ride to the airport to pick me up there.” 

“Excellent!  Ring me when you’re leaving.” He said, dashing out the doors.

Bruce’s eagle eyes followed Rain until he was out of sight, “I wonder what all that’s all about?”

“Christmas,” Peggy replied, gesturing with a piece of cold toast she’d been eating for half an hour, “You didn’t see him last year.

“Hey, you’re a hard man to track down, “ Rain panted, having finally caught up with Mortimer and a small knot of four other recruits, “Enjoying your time in the Estate then?”

Mortimer looked like he was unsure how to answer Rain’s question.  He glanced at his companions, who just laughed good-naturedly at his discomfort.

“Ur…I’ve met several individuals whose skills complement my own.  Our training is not taxing, and I find this world pleasant.  Is that what you mean?”

“From you? Yes,” Rain smiled, and the joking amongst the friends continued.  Rain appreciated the relaxed way the group behaved around Mortimer.  Mortimer’s early life had not made him the easiest of people to get to know, and his relative assumed age could be seen as a hindrance to socialising.  But, here he was with a group of friends, and it pleased Rain to know Mortimer had found a place.

“Rain Bigby,” He introduced himself to each group member, shaking hands and noting names.

“No introductions required, Mr Bigby,” Said one young woman who introduced her herself as Hilde, “We’ve been studying one of your group’s old reports.” She was not tall, a nice change around all the ex-military that made up the bulk of Estate Agents.  Straight long white-blonde hair flowed unbound down her back moved gracefully with her every gesture.  She was a Northern European pale in a way that Rain found exotic.  In the overcast Seattle winter sunlight, she glowed.

“Ah, what not to do in the field?” He replied self-effacingly, ‘I assume it’s the official reports.  Usually, mine are filed under fiction.”
“If we don’t get to study your version of events, do you provide private tuition?” Hilde asked, and her companions giggled.  Rain laughed along with group until he noticed a blush rising up her slim neck.  Though she was at least ten years older than Mortimer looked, at that moment she could have claimed to be in the same grade. 

“For you?  I would be enchanted,” Rain bowed graciously, and the crowd, excluding Mortimer, wolf-whistled and made other appreciative noises.  Mortimer made a disgusted face and stepped between Hilde and Rain.

“Is there something I can help you with, Rain?” 

Remembering now the reason for the run across campus, Rain returned his focus to Mortimer.

“I would hope I’d be helping you.  We’re about to go out to  your parents’ place, and I was wondering if you’d like to join us?”

The group’s general good-natured banter died down, and all turned to look at Mortimer.  His expression darkened still further as he turned to his friends.

“I need to speak to Mr Bigby a moment. I’ll catch up, “ He said.

His companions knew when they weren’t needed.  A few, including Hilde,  gave expressions of wanting to talk later, but they all gave him his space. 

“I don’t publicly recognise I have blood relations.  Algernon is hard to ignore, being a senior agent of the Estate, but the others are nothing to me.”

The attitude, so opposed to his own, made Rain unsure how to respond. It was so cool that he involuntarily shivered. 

“And…your parents?  John and Athena?”

Mortimer gave a frustrated sigh, “Look Rain, I understand that familial links are important here on Earth.  That often, children are expected to owe loyalty to their parents and siblings. But, I was given free will to make my own choices, right?”

“Yes.” Rain admitted, and as much as it pained him right now, he’d have had it no other way.

“And DNA donors do not hold much influence even in this world.  In Ruk, even less.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? You are so entrenched in this world’s culture, can you comprehend I want to make my own way, without the past impinging on my decision making?” 

 Rain flicked his eyes up to Mortimer’s.  A sad little smile acknowledging the truth in Mortimer’s words.

“Better than you know.”

“Well… good,” Mortimer furrowed, confused at Rain’s response, “I wish the Martin’s and the other three well, but I don’t  intend to be part of their lives, and I’d appreciate it if they didn’t try to be part of mine.” And with a short nod, he turned and jogged after his friends.

The car trip out to North-East Seattle was quiet.  Algernon was quieter even than usual, keeping his eyes fixed out the window of the car.  Peggy was in the back seat beside him, still adding finishing touches to her crib notes.  As Bruce wouldn’t let Rain behind the wheel until he proved he could drive on the ‘right’ side of the road responsibly, he was driving, and Rain said beside him.

The car soon left the built-up city behind and wound along the tree-lined shores of Lake Washington.  The arctic winds had blown the sky clear of clouds for a change, and the pale blue sky sparkled off the wavelets over the lake.

“Beautiful part of Seattle, don’t you think?” Rain asked the car in general.

“A credit to the Estate,” Bruce replied, which was more than the other two.  Peggy mumbled something unintelligible, and Algernon made a sound of agreement.

“Hmm,”
“And not far from the Estate.  Twenty minutes as the motorcycle weaves.”

Bruce’s eyes flickered quickly across to Rain who was sitting facing forward as if just making small talk.  If Rain were a cat, his ears would have been turned straight back listening for any response from Algenon.  He didn’t receive one.

“Maybe we can borrow bikes sometime in the new year and come out to see the family.  What do you think, Algernon?”

“Sure, if you like,” Algernon replied noncommittally.

Rain frowned, “Your enthusiasm is contagious.” 

Bruce turned the car into the cul-de-sac where the house stood; it’s back to the lake.  Two storeys tall it was a neat and well-presented house that accommodated the nearly six adults currently trying to build a life together.  When they arrived, the whole family, John and Athena academics in their early thirties, two boys who seemed to be twins aged aprroximately fourteen years old and another younger boy were all standing around a large box in the front yard.

“Happy Christmas, Martins!” Rain called from the car before joining the family.  Peggy went straight up her mother, gave her a perfunctory kiss and stiffly received a hug from her father.  Bruce walked up to the three boys and shook their hands.  Algernon stood opposite the box and said nothing.

“This just arrived,” Athena said, looking around the group of visitors, “Is it something to do with you?”

“Just one of many presents I hope you will receive this season,” Rain beamed shaking hands with John, “Go ahead boys, open it up.”

Unlike three boys when presented with a mystery gift, Thomas, Richard and Jean-Luc were unsure what to do.  This was their first Christmas, and they had no idea of how to behave. John stood back as if examining his three sons and started asking them questions about what they thought was appropriate behaviour.

“We should thank Rain?” Asked Jean-Luc tentatively as if answering a question in school.

“Yes, a very good start, but would you not like to see what’s inside it so you can speak intelligently about the gift?” John replied, and a light of realisation dawned on all three boys.  The present was inside the box.

 Athena ignored them with a look of disdain and turned her attention to Peggy.

“Have you brushed your hair today, it looks like a bird’s made a nest for the winter,” She said to her adult daughter only a few years younger than herself, “Here let me fix it.” And she pulled the pencil that perpetually held Peggy’s hair in place free.  

“Mu…um!” Peggy exclaimed making two syllables out of the one word, “Please, after, when we’re inside.”

“Have you eaten?  I made pancakes, but they…” She gestured her head towards the boys now tearing into the box, “Are still on meal supplements until their digestive systems are online or some such…looks like baby puke to me,” The disdainful look again, as if anything pertaining to the boys had a bad smell about it.

“I’d like some pancakes, “ Algernon piped up, and he was rewarded with a withering look from the woman who had taught Peggy her withering looks.  He physically backed up, and she relented a little.

“Sure, they’ll only go to waste otherwise.”

By this time Thomas and Richard had the box open and Jean -Luc was pulling smaller boxes out, examining the bright packaging before passing it onto one of his brothers.  They found a box of glass baubles, several strings of fairy lights, ropes of tinsel in several colours, a stained-glass star and a  long narrow box that claimed to contain a 210cm tall Canadian Spruce tree (artificial).

“That would be right,” Jean Luc mumbled to his brothers, “A fake tree from Rain.” They snickered.

“Now boys, this is a mighty fine gift,” John said looking to his wife whose sour face softened for a moment, “We always enjoyed setting up the Christmas tree every December, remember honey?”

“Yes, but that tree is twenty years in the past,” She said as the bitterness returned.   The sound made the boys pause in their unpacking, “ I don’t even know where to start anymore.”

“I’ll help, mamma,” Peggy said in a small childlike voice, placating and soothing the troubled adult.  Bruce, Algernon and Rain exchanged glances.

Rain was about to offer to remove the offending gift , dismayed at the effect the tree was having on Athena , when John took charge.

“Of course, we’ll all help.” He caught Rain’s eye, who visibly breathed out in relief, “Boys, we’re going to start a new family tradition of setting up the Christmas tree…”  And he started to rally the triplet into picking up and taking the boxes inside.

“No, “ Athena said firmly as the boys started picking up boxes, “Peggy and I will put up the tree, you stay outside…do something with John.” She turned in Algernon’s direction, but would not look him in the eye, “If you could help up with the boxes, I’ll fix you those pancakes.”

Bruce and Rain helped the boys load up Peggy and Algernon and watched them go inside.  Rain took a quiet moment to apologise to John, who brushed the comment aside.

“Nothing to do with you or your gift.  This has been the status quo since arriving at the house, I’m afraid.” 

“I saw her remoteness to the boys when we first returned from Ruk, but I thought it shock or disbelief.”  Rain winced, “I hadn’t expected her to be so…angry with them.”


“She’s not really angry with the boys…” John’s attention drifted over to the triplets.  Thomas was disposing of the large delivery box as Richard and Jean-Luc pulled a tennis racquet and a football out of a large sports bag.

“…look,” John gestured quietly for Rain and Bruce to follow his lead, “ I’ve given the boys a variety of sporting equipment to explore.  They’re responses are fascinating.  You see, normal children learn very early about such tools as part of our culture, but these boys have learnt knowledge apart from culture and have no references to the tools I’ve provided.  The suggestions they come up with show the intelligence of the human creature and how tool usage can change the mind.  I’m writing a paper on it if you’re interested, though it won’t publish until sometime in the new year.”

“Naturally,” Rain looked to Bruce who shared his concerned look.  It seemed John’s connection to the boys was no more healthy than was Athena’s.

“Maybe we can help, it is my knowledge that made the basis of their understanding,” Bruce suggested, and Rain readily agreed.

“I guess it’s time to bring in other stimuli,” John nodded, “I’d be interested to see how they boys relate to you in particular, Bruce.” 

So Rain and Bruce joined the boys around the bag of sporting equipment. Rain found a packet of tennis balls and began to juggle.  Thomas and Richard were fascinated with these items’ new use.  Jean-Luc looked on blank-faced clutching the football.

“That’s a football you have here,” Bruce said and gestured for Jean-Luc to pass him the ball.  Jean-Luc did, handing the ball to Bruce instead of tossing it to him as would be expected, “I used to be pretty good at this when I was at high school.” 

“Please, can you inform me of its purpose?  John insists we interact with these items, but neither I, Richard or Thomas can understand their use, and we are forbidden presently from looking them up on the Internet.”
“Well, maybe that because your father wants you to understand things in their context, learn about them from using them, not just reading about them,” Bruce replied, not sure that was what John had in mind, but it sounded good to him.  It also sounded good to Jean-Luc, who nodded thoughtfully along with Bruce’s statement.

“So by getting to know the item, we would get to know their purpose in society?”

“Ur…something like that.  But first, let me teach you how to catch and pass the ball.”

So as Rain taught juggling to Richard and Thomas, Bruce and Jean-Luc passed the football between them, noting the ball’s aerodynamics and ease of use in the hand.  But, whereas Rain’s lessons ended when the two boys had become proficient with the movements required to keep the tennis balls in the air then tiring with the activity, Jean-Luc only had more questions to ask about the game the ball came from and how it fitted into Bruce’s life.  

“I do not understand why it is called a football,” Thomas said as he and Richard joined the game of pass, “ The item’s characteristic shape make it ill-suited for use with the foot, we’ve tried, but this passing movement makes good use of the ball’s shape, texture and aerodynamics.”

“It has to do with the game it comes from and its history,” He said, giving the boys a basic history of the game he loved while showing them how to kick the odd-shaped ball.

“Coming from New Or’lins, The Saints are my team, but when you boys get a chance you could do worse than follow the Seahawks, they’re doing well this season.” He added proudly and started singing his team’s song, When the Saints, come marching in.

Rain, who had been sitting on the doorstep with Peggy and Algernon eating pancakes responded instantly with the echo to the old jazz standard.  Their two voices blended well, Bruce’s bass and Rain’s clear tenor taking opposed but harmonious parts capturing the song’s spirit and the battle-cry. 

Oh, when the Saint, Oh, when the Saints.

Come marchin’ in Come marchin’ in

Oh when the Saints come marchin’ in

Well, I want to be in that number.

When the Saints come marchin’ in.

“Football encourages impromptu communal music?” Richard, the quietest of the three seemed the most interested in the song.

“That’s the point..” Bruce passed the ball back to him, who fumbled it and had to chase it through the garden bed,  “Not everyone can play, only the very best become part of a team.  But, everyone can join in on the team’s victories and defeats.  One way is through singing.” Bruce explained. 

“So football builds a community that follows and supports their heroes in their battles against the enemy,” Richard summed up having had something of a lightbulb moment.

“Sounds about right, but we don’t call them enemies, just the opposition,” Bruce nodded, and all three boys nodded along with him.

Rain watched from the doorstep where he’d landed after Thomas and Richard gave up on learning to juggle.  A little jealous at the easy way Bruce talked to the young men, Rain wondered if it was just Bruce’s easy-going nature or if the shared knowledge they all had from him was making the difference.  Rain decided the later, he’d never found Bruce that easy-going and vowed to make more of an impact on the boy’s lives going forward.  

It was then Rain noticed his puzzlebox was in his hand and rolled it around from palm to palm for a moment.  Habit had brought it out, though in practice Rain was finding it meant less.  With a little trepidation, he put the box down on the step beside him.  

Algernon walked through the front door, a large stack of pancakes on a plate in one hand, in the other he ate a rolled pancake dipped into syrup from a small bowl.

“Athena makes good pancakes,” He said, sitting down next to Rain.  Rain stretched out a hand to peel one from the stack, and Algernon yanked the plate out of reach.

“Get our own!”
“Are there any left?”
“No,”

“So, can I have one of yours?”

Algernon offered the plate without another thought and Rain took a pancake, eating it as Algernon did, dipped in syrup.

“You didn’t want to come earlier today, “ Rain said between mouthfuls, “Changed your mind?”

Algernon shook his head, his mouth too full to speak.

“I would have thought you’d be interested in understanding where you came from.” Rain expressed his own deep desire to know.

“I know where I came from, Doctor Strangelove’s laboratory.”

“I mean, a lot of who we are comes from our families, not just our experiences.” 

Algernon stuffed another whole pancake in his mouth as he thought over his friend’s words.

“All things considered, it just seems like a lot of hard work for pancakes.”

Rain was about to agree when Peggy also left the house and sat down beside the two boys.  She didn’t’ ask for a pancake, just took one, tore into small chunks before stuffing each piece into her mouth.

“And what did that pancake ever do to you?” Rain asked, sure that Athena had something to do with Peggy’s current mood.

“Huh? Nuffin…” She said glumly around the dry pancake, “I dust gotta getta ‘way fum my mutha.”

“You were so keen to come earlier today, what happened?”

Peggy sighed, finished her pancake and reached for another.

“Nothing really.  I love having my mother back.  I love talking to her about all the things she’s missed in the world and my life.  I love being there for her, she’s going through a tough time, and I know how that feels. But, she dismisses my thoughts, never takes me seriously and treats me like a child.  You saw how she pulled my hair out earlier…” She sighed again.

“At the same time, I bet it’s nice to have someone to fuss over you.  Someone that makes you feel loved.” Rain looked out into the distance, passed the front garden and  Washington Lake.

“Yeah.”

“Huh!”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“Just I felt a very similar way only a few months ago. I was mourning the loss of what could have been.  But, you can’t remake the past. You just have to live with the present you’ve got, and try and make a future for yourself.”

“Huh!”

“See?”

“I do.  But what if the other person doesn’t?” Peggy argued as she looked back behind her through the door.

“I guess you get to be the patient one until they do.”

“Ur…” She frowned.

“Problem?”

“I’m not very patient.”

Surprising them out of their conversation, Bruce started singing When the Saints go marchin’ in and, not to be one to refuse a jazz performance, Rain started singing along.  

“Margrita!  Margrita, where are you?” Athena’s voice, high and stressed called out to the trio sitting at the door.

Peggy sighed, finished her pancake.

“Good luck, Doctor Peggy,” Algernon said.  Rain waved her luck without interrupting the singing, and she stood and walked back inside.

 The tree was finished, immaculate as expected, it sat expectantly in the dark corner of the lounge.  All that was needed was to turn on the lights.  It wasn’t the tree giving Athena problems.  Peggy found her mother poking her smartphone as if trying to wake a recalcitrant child.

“Peggy, an important message came up on this blasted thing and as soon as I touched it, it went away.  Can you bring it up again?”  Athena said, holding out the top of the range smartphone as if it were a bag of excrement.  Peggy took it, punched in the passcode and opened the messages app.  A short message from the Dean of a local University stated that he could not offer her any role in their teaching staff without current credentials.

“Teaching?  I didn’t know you were thinking of teaching.” Peggy handed back the phone and watched her mother’s shoulder’s slumped.

“Needs must, I can’t live on the generosity of the Estate forever, and frankly I’m going stir-crazy cooped up here,” Her eye glanced up to where Bruce was instructing the boys, “It doesn’t matter does it.  My resume is twenty years out of date. I can’t go back to my old work without questions being raised about where I’ve been, let alone being completely out of touch…”  Athena was pacing the room, each new point only adding to her agitation. 

 It was a feeling that Peggy knew well.

“Mum! You’re getting worked up, sit down…” She looked out the window at Bruce and Rain, both much better at talking to people.  Both were singing, neither looking in her direction.

“I can’t sit down. I got to do something.  The world is falling apart around me a…”

“You just need to stop and breathe…” 

“Don’t tell me…” Athena snapped, only to be grabbed by both arms and manoeuvred into a chair by Peggy.

“Will you shut up and listen…just listen to me for a minute!”

“I hear you, no need to shout!”  She pulled away from Peggy’s grasp and looked back, reproachfully, “What sort of mother do you think I am?”

Peggy paused, took a deep breath and began.

“One that’s hurting and lost in a world you prided yourself in understanding.  I get it.  Dad loves you, but his solution is time and space.  For us, our minds are moving so fast that time seems lightyears.  The more space we have, the more we feel alone and have to do it all ourselves.  I was there!  For twenty years, I was there!  I know!”  Peggy punctuated the last word with her fist striking the arm of the chair where her mother sat.  Athena flinched, surprised at her daughter’s vehemence.  It surprised Peggy too as she realised tears were rolling down her face.

“My poor little girl-” Athena’s hand reached out to brush a tear from Peggy’s cheek, Peggy slapped it away.

“And I’m not your little girl. I had to grow up fast when you disappeared.  I don’t need mothering and don’t appreciate it. I’m a grown woman, treat like one!”  She snapped back, then thought better of her words, “Respectfully.”

“Respectfully?” Athena repeated, giving Peggy an appraising look and found the truth of Peggy’s words.  She sighed heavily.  

“What am I going to do, Margarita?”  

Peggy’s heart leapt, and she had to hold herself from overwhelming her mother with the mental list she’d composed.

“Well, I’m sure Hertzfeld would be interested in your theoretical expertise on The Strange.  You’re twenty years in your future, give yourself time to get to know your world a little and…”  Peggy pointed out the window at the three boys sitting on the doorstep with Rain, Bruce and Algernon, “…if you really want to teach, there are three brilliant young men trying to find their place in a world they don’t understand. You could be the mother to them that you couldn’t be for Simon and me.”

The last stung like a slap and Athena glanced from the boys talking on the front lawn back to Peggy.  Tears started welling up in her eyes. She let them go unchecked down her face.

“They say…they say they’re my boys, John and mine.  They don’t…feel like mine.  I never grew them or birthed them.  I never held them new in my arms.  They’re…strangers.” Her words were full of so much emotion that Peggy could no longer feel angry at her mother if she ever had.  Crouching down, she took her mother’s hands in hers.

“Does it really matter?  They need a mom, and you need a purpose.  How would you treat them if they were someone else’s that needed help?”

Athena smiled a sad sort of expression, “How did you get so wise?”

“What are you talking about?” Peggy smiled with relief, “I’ve always been wise.”

“Everything alright in here?” John said, looking around the front door.  Taking in the scene and recognising that everything was…satisfactory, his eyes drifted to the newly dressed Christmas tree, “Say, the tree looks great, we should toast the tree with our new friends.”

“What with, my love, “ Athena brushed her face clear of tears and stood beside Peggy, “We have nothing in the house beside a few bottles of soda.”

John joined her in the middle of the lounge, taking her effortlessly into his arms, “Then we’ll toast with soda, or water or whatever, but we need to celebrate such a beautiful moment.” 

Peggy was sure her father wasn’t talking about the tree.  At that moment, bathed in the love of her parents for each other, she felt both joyously happy and awkward at the same time.

“I’ll…go get the drinks and glasses,” She said and left the room to her parents.

The yelling from the house had been loud, violent and brief.  The three boys lost interested in the sporting equipment and looked towards the house.

“Is Athena being attacked, should we help?” Thomas found a baseball bat and experimentally swung it to determine its merit as a weapon.

“Oh no,” Algernon said, speaking from his wealth of experience on families, “It’s called a discussion, families do it on occasion.”

“Does it have to be so loud and angry?” Richard winced, the more sensitive of the three.

“The louder, the better it seems,” Algernon replied knowingly.  Bruce and Rain watched on with interest at their young companion’s wisdom.  John looked like he needed to take notes.

The three boys looked at their “older brother” and nodded sagely.

“Does your family have discussions?” Thomas asked, glancing around the three companions who nodded their heads. 

“All the time, almost constantly.  That’s how you know.”  Algernon ate his last pancake, thoughtfully, “When things are silent, you know that trouble is coming.”

The house was quiet.  All eyes looked to John to make sense of the omens.

“I’ll just go in and…” He said, not finishing his sentence.  He quietly opened the door and stepped inside, “Everything alright in here?”

The familiar click of the puzzle box made Rain turn to see Jean-Luc sitting beside him, his doubled hand holding the puzzle box open at the first compartment.

“Oh!  Was that supposed to happen?”

Rain just stared at him in shocked awe.  No one had ever moved the first tile, let alone opened the first compartment before.  Ni-Challan had shown even him.  Jean-Luc looked up to see Rain’s shocked expression and instantly felt guilty.

“I didn’t break it, did I?” He lamented, holding the puzzle box out like it was a small injured animal.

“Huh? No….no, not at all!”  Rain exclaimed, finally finding his voice and enveloping the small boy in a bear hug.  The hug scared Jean-Luc more than the shocked expression had, and he wriggled out of reach once released.

“Say shrimp, would you like to learn magic?”

“No,” Jean-Luc replied simply.  He held up the puzzle box. “What is it?” 

“A puzzle, I’ve had it a very long time.  Did I ever tell you the story of how I got it?”

Jean-Luc rolled his eyes. It was a common expression on the young man’s face whenever Rain offered to tell one of his stories.

“Can’t you just tell me, without all the words?”

Unappreciated again, Rain shook his head, “Hey Little-Jean, do you want to find out about the box or what?”

The two stared at each other for a moment, neither willing to give ground.  Finally, Jean-Luc relented.

“Yeah, alright,” He said, fussing with the box once more, “But, don’t call me little!”

“Whatever you say, short-stuff.”

“Everyone!  Martins and friends, please gather in the lounge” John’s voice rang from inside the house, and they were all made aware of the tinkle of glass.

Without feeling the need to take back the puzzlebox from Jean-Luc, they both followed the other two boys, Bruce and Algernon inside to John’s summons.

Everyone gathered around the tree and were handed a tumbler and their choice of soda by John and Peggy. 

“I just want to say a few words before we light this beautiful tree and start our Christmas celebrations…” John announced, giving a generic Christmas and New year wishes for the Martins and their new friends from the Estate.  He flicked the switch for the lights, and the tree bloomed with multi-coloured sparkles that lit the faces of everyone present.

He then offered the floor to anyone who wanted to speak, and Bruce stepped into the circle.

“I’m proud and pleased to see you all getting on with your lives.  I wish you the best in your adventurers together.”

“I find it hard to believe you’re here,” Peggy said as she toasted her parents, “I look forward to exercising that belief in the years to come.” 

“My wish for you all, “ Rain offered his blessings, “Is that you grow in appreciation of each other.  Discovering everyday how lucky you are,” He looked at Jean-Luc still holding the puzzlebox, “Especially you, you need all the growing you can get!”

John now looked to Algernon who seemed to be trying to hide behind Bruce.

“Algernon, I am coming to realise you are a man of wisdom,” He said  to the young man he shared his floppy fringe and general easy-going manner, “Do you have a toast to share, son?”

Algernon’s lips twitched at the casual use of the familial title, “Yes, I would like to toast the new Martin family, but I didn’t bring any bread.”

The group laughed politely, and fresh drinks handed around. A little separate from the others Rain observed as Algernon gather his thoughts.  Algernon had not shown a lot of interest in the family all day.   Rain felt skittish after the run-in with Mortimer and the upset the simple tree had caused, .  He tried thinking up excuses for Algernon and him to leave before his young friend could put words to his thoughts. Like watching a car crash, he instead waited for his glass to be refilled, put his trust in Algernon and feared the worst.

Algernon stepped into the centre of the room as the other had and turned to John and Athena sitting together on the lounge comfortable in each other arms.

“When I first came to Earth, I watched many documentaries, including the Brady Bunch.  To me, they were the…example of a family, a group of strangers taking on roles as father, mother, brother, sister for some greater purpose.”

“When we found you all in Strangelove’s secret lab, you were already separate parts of a greater whole of experience.  You were already the image of a family.” 

“I realised a while ago that the Brady’s lied.  Being a group of people stuck together, even ones related by blood doesn’t make you a family.  This, what we’ve seen today, what you’re experiencing right now is living in a real family.  It’s noisy, messy, ugly and stupid at times, but if you all…” And he stopped to look at the triplets at this point, “All try to make it work, you will become something greater than you can alone. You’ll belong.”

He glanced at Peggy, clutching her mother’s hand, Bruce standing beside the triplets and finally Rain standing alone to one side and he smiled.

“Now, I have my family.  We are messy and ugly and often stupid, but we’ve also shared with, saved, encouraged and built up each other, becoming something greater than ourselves.   That’s what I want for you, Martin’s, I wish for you to build each other up and become something greater.“   

He raised his glass, “To the Martins.”

Rain and Bruce raised theirs in response, “To the Martins.”

Peggy squeezed her mother’s hand and raised her glass, ”To all the Martins.”

Athena stared at the triplets, may be looking at them for the first time and raised her glass.  John followed suit.

Athena’s phone rang, breaking the happy bustling noise of people chatting and being together. Without looking at it, she handed it to Peggy.

“Please, could you answer it?  Tomorrow, I will step into the future.”

Peggy took the phone with a nod and answered the call,

“Yes?” She said in her usual abrupt manner and listened to the response.  Her face visibly greyed as her eyes flicked across to Rain leaning quietly against a wall.

“Simon?… It’s Peggy…Y..yes, yes they’re here…” 

“Maybe we should take our leave… “ Bruce said, putting his glass down before and wishing the boys a good Christmas. Peggy pulled the phone away from her ear and pressed for speaker.

“…look, I got a call from your work yesterday.  As I said, someone wanted me to know that mum and dad were found and I could…mum, dad are you…?”

Algernon took his cue from Bruce as he moved quietly towards the door.  He grabbed Rain’s arm and dragged him along as he passed.

“Just a few minutes…I’ll be silent…can I just?” Rain whispered.  He turned to watch Peggy and the Martin family gather around the phone as John and Athena acknowledged their eldest son.

Outside, the day had turned cold, and there was the damp smell of snow in the air.  The taxi arrived to pick up Bruce, and he dismissed it with a generous tip and a hearty Merry Christmas before joined Rain and Algernon in the relative warmth of the car.  Now it was Rain’s turn to sit silently looking out the window as Algernon tried to engage him in conversation.

“Did you like my speech?  I tried to imagine how you’d say it.” He said from his regular seat in the back.

“Uh-hmm.”  Rain replied, he eyes locked to the front door of the house.

“The tree looked good. It doesn’t smell as good as our dead one, but the lights were colourful,” 

“Hmmm,”

 “And Simon ringing.  Now I understand why you had to see Admin twice in two days, once to find Mortimer and once to ask them to contact Simon.”
“Yeah…” 

Algernon tried another tack, “What do you say to a mum and dad you thought were dead for twenty years?” 

“I don’t know,” Rain replied distractedly, “But I’d really love to find out…”  His voice trailed away as the front door opened.  Peggy stepped out, accepted one last handshake from Richard before turning to the car, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She stopped as she saw all three of them watching through the windows of the car.  She smiled and continued her march to the curb.

“He’s engaged, they have a little girl, and he’s happy,” She said with finality flopping down into the backseat, “He told his fiance his parents were dead.  It’s only natural.  They legally were dead for thirteen years.  He doesn’t know how he’ll tell her.”

“But he will?” Bruce asked, starting the car engine and pulling away.

“I think so. He’s mellowed since we were kids.” Peggy mused, “Maybe being a dad, maybe it’s thinking of the future for his partner and girl,” She turned to Rain who had twisted around in his seat reverently listening to everything she said.  Her face went from whistful to severe in a heartbeat. “I should box your ears, that could have gone very badly.”

“I figured he didn’t have to ring if he didn’t want to, but, if my parents were found alive, I’d like someone to send me their phone number.”  Rain replied almost inaudible from emotion.

Peggy nodded, “Okay, don’t do it again.”

She now turned her attention to Bruce sitting in the driver’s seat in front of her, “So, what are you doing here?  Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane heading south?”

“I can catch a later flight,” Bruce replied, responsibly not taking his eyes off the road, “It just seemed there was still work here.  Besides, I couldn’t leave you two to the mercy of Rain’s driving. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“I have you know I’m an excellent driver,” Rain complained, cheering considerably, the balance restored.

“Is that so? I’d like to see it one day.”

“I can drive,” Algernon said as per the script for every car trip they’d ever taken.

“I’m sure you could.  Get a licence.”

“I’m not sitting in a car with Algernon driving, “Peggy added her penny’s worth, “There’s no knowing where he’ll take us…”
“As opposed to one of your portals…”

The friendly bickering continued all the way to the airport.

Much later, Christmas Eve – New Orleans

Bruce’s heavy work boots boomed on the old wood of the verandah as he stepped up the front door of his childhood home.

“Is that you, Bruce James Johnson?” Came a call from inside.  It was a woman’s voice, use to yelling through the house to be heard. “Skulking around like a polecat ‘round the chicken coop?”

“Yeah, Ma, sorry I’m late,” He dropped his bag at the door and slipped off his boots.  Ma didn’t hold with work boots in the house, and in his stocking feet he felt like he was finally home,  “I was caught up with my new family.”

A clatter from the kitchen signalled the fall of more than one pan crashing to the ground.

“You wha…?  What have you been up to, boy?” 

“Oh, same old,” He smiled and went in to help his mother prepare for dinner.

Boxing day – Seattle

“Why are we here again?” Mortimer mumbled as he was shoved along the path to the Martin’s front door.

“Those who can not remember the past are condemned to repeat it, George Santayana.” Replied Hilde with a self-satisfied grin.

“Spinners, I bet George Santayana was a Spinner.  Always telling people how to live their lives.”

“You got it, Vector,” She pressed the doorbell and stepped back, “Look, you need context for your life, everyone does, and maybe they need a little context too.”

They stood in silence.  Mortimer looked to her for when they could give up and go. Hilde faced the door with an engaging smile ready to spring to life in a moment’s notice.

The door opened, and one of the two taller triplets opened it.  Not having a lot to do with the triplets, Mortimer found it hard to tell Thomas and Richard apart.  He’d imagined seeing them would be like looking in a mirror, but like Algernon, some differences showed they were merely brothers and not clones.  Thomas…or Richard’s hair was growing in, and it was developing the soft curly frizz of Athena and Peggy’s hair, not the straight black hair of himself, Algernon and John.

“Oh, it’s the other one,” The triplet said, barring the door with his lanky frame as if declaring ownership, “Are you here to make Athena cry too?”

“Wha…no!  Look, Thomas…”

“Richard.”

“Richard, that is not the intent of this visit.”

“Well, what is the intent of your visit?”

From inside, Athena’s voice called, “Thomas, who’s at the door?”

Thomas smiled innocently.  Mortimer knew that look. He’d used it enough times himself to get out of trouble.

“Some stranger.  Says he knows you.”

A soft padding tread made its way to the door before Athena’s sharp-eyed face stood behind Thomas, blinking.

“Mortimer?” She said.  She stood still, watching like a wild creature, unsure if to advance or flee.

Mortimer nodded respectfully and very formally.

“And…?” Athena noticed for the first time, Hilde standing behind.

“My name is Hilde, Mortimer and I were recruited at the same time,” She reached her hand past both Mortimer and Thomas to Athena who took it automatically.


“Ur…it’s been brought to my attention that I should learn a little about my past, to better make decisions for the future,” Mortimer blurted out.

Athena looked at her wayward son, her eyes burning uncomfortable holes through Mortimer’s resolve.

“John!” She called over her shoulder before placing a hand on her defending son’s shoulder, “Thomas, why don’t you let your brother and his charming friend in.”

“But Mom!  Thomas complained, so like the teen boy he seemed, that Athena’s mouth twitched up into a brief smile.

“He’s our guest. This is your home.” She said simply before turning away from the door.

“That means you don’t get to stay,” Thomas smirked but stepped back to let Mortimer through.

“Suits me,” Mortimer growled, and as Hilde elbowed him to the ribs they both entered the house.

35. Expecto Patronum

After a successful trip to Ruk, the party are preparing for their next trip to Railsea. Following the clues to the disappearance of Bruce’s father, the group is focusing their efforts on the Manihiki Ferro Navy.  Though most of the party is ready to start flexing their Strange powers in Railsea, Bruce is more reticent to go.

***********************************************************

Katherine Manners, Lead Operative and founding member of the Estate pulled up a report.  She had been Earth’s representatives on foreign shores.  And that was when the less theatrical of the party wrote the report.  This last Ruk trip had been no exception, with the discovery of secret genetic labs, the recovery of kidnapped Earthlings for experimentation and the destruction of a whole mountain along with the death of a serious opponent of Earth, Doctor Strangelove.  She confirmed the facts through channels, found them accurate, and called in Bruce Johnson, the group member she was directly responsible for in for a chat.

As usual, Bruce was prompt and prepared.  There was something else she noticed as Bruce entered her office and sat down.  A quiet assurance.  The confidence of someone who had gone through hell and come out the other side stronger.  She approved.  

“Bruce, you and your group have had quite the adventure in Ruk,” She prompted turning her screen with the report displayed.

“Did what we set out to do.  Got into the kid’s head, got him fixed.  His brothers too, though Mortimer is one to keep an eye on,” 

“Noted, though we hope great things for him if he proves himself reliable,”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully, “He’s sharp, and he’s fast.  A dangerous combination.”

“As too were your group, blowing up a large tract of Ruk,”

“Ah well, I believe you’ll find that was the build-up of a highly explosive gas that was being created by Strangelove,” Bruce started to defend the group’s action until Katherine waved his arguments aside.

“In doing so, destroyed a secret base and one of the Karum’s major players all while leaving our allies on Ruk out of the frame. This is a significant victory that will have implication for years to come.”
“Yeah, the Allsong said she was dead.  Algernon asked,” He said, unconvinced, “But who’s to say she was alive at all.”

“Whose to say with Ruk,” She flicked to her screen to the other reports from Ruk, “Still there’s no sign that she’s alive and the Karum is in a panic.  I think it’s fair to say she is no longer a threat to Earth.”

Bruce nodded, mulling over his thoughts.

“Anything to add before I file the report for good?”  

“Ah no, nothing directly related to Ruk, only what we discovered.”
“Go on,”

“How hard is it to deliberately get into a story-based recursion that you have an idea may be out there, but have no links or key?”

“Some do it.  It requires a high concentration level and not a little luck if you don’t know if the recursion exists.  Translations go bad every day.  I can organise for some advanced translation coaching if you like.”

“Could you bring anything back?”

She shook her head, “Everything is translated.  Whatever you find in the recursion will only change into something mundane to this world.”

“How about we use an anapposite gate? Like we did for the Martins?”

“Anaposite gates are rare things.  We have no way of making a reliable gate.”

“We have the artefact from Ruk. Maybe we can rig that up.”

“Perhaps.  May I ask what recursion you would try to get to?”

At this, Bruce became a little more circumspect, “Ah, I know of a specific shrink ray that we could put to use.”

“Truly.  Would you like me to organise the coaching? Or would you like to think it over?  You may find other options open up to you in your travels.”

”Huh?” Dumbfounded, Bruce stopped in his tracks as he was about to leave.

“Railsea, I believe a number of your party mentioned it was your next trip out.”

“Oh yeah, tidying up loose ends.” He recovered quickly, but Katherine could tell Railsea wasn’t Bruce’s idea of destination.

“Foresee any difficulties?”

“No…no.  As I said, following up a few loose ends,”  He shook his head as he reached the door, “And do keep an eye on Mortimer, I worry what he might get up to while I’m not around.”

Algernon and Rain were also visiting with their direct supervisor.  It had become a bit of a tradition for both of them.  Algernon was obliged to ask for a highly specific and useful item of equipment, a rocket launcher.  Keating turned it down as usual.  Rain had better luck, as he didn’t bother asking.

Walking into the administration centre as if he owned the place, he greeted the staff by name and seemed to loiter around Keating’s office door, as if waiting for him to arrive.  Behind his back, he carefully picked the lock, not having a lot of luck.  The lockpick had jammed, and as he was about to check what was hindering its progress, Keating walked into the office.  Some would suggest this would be a good time to slink away, hide, and try again later.  That wasn’t Rain’s way at all.

“Mr Keating, I’m so glad I caught you,” He deftly stepped away from the door as if he hadn’t been standing there for minutes. He walked up to Keating, hand outstretched and Keating complied to the customary greeting. It gave Rain the chance to turn Keating around, so he did not see the door and the jammed lockpick.

“I have been remiss in keeping you abreast of my group’s activities if you have a moment I’d love to fill you in.”
“Rain, what a surprise.  Ah, yes that would be good…” Keating mulled over his current tasks, “ I can spare you a moment or two in my office…”
“I was hoping for a walk .  You will be pleased to know I have been availing myself of the Estates excellent councillors. They suggest more physical activity and sunlight, and it is such a lovely day,” He looked out the second storey office windows to the usual heavy leaden sky of Seattle.

“Unfortunately I have quite a bit of paperwork to get to…”

“No really, I Suggest we go out for a walk,” Rain pushed, embedding the suggestion into Keating’s mind.  He hadn’t wanted to do it.  He didn’t know the penalties for altering the mind of an Estate official, but at that moment it felt more likely he’d be caught for the attempted break-in than manipulating his supervisor’s mind.  He watched Keating’s face slacken as the push took hold.

“I promise not to keep you long, the walk will do us a world of good,” Rain steered Keating towards the door.

The two walked around the Estate commons to the far side of campus, near the library.  Having timed his story to finish at that point, he left Keating there and once out of sight, sprinted back.  There he found the lockpick still in places.  Now he could see the jam, Rain unlocked the door and quickly stepped into the office.

Keating’s bottle of bourbon wasn’t too hard to find. Rain knew he kept it near his desk for easy retrieval and disposal and soon found it tucked into a bottom draw.  Keating’s long legs had returned him to the office earlier that Rain anticipated.  His silhouette through the frosted window of the office door sent a jolt of adrenalin through Rain. He only had one option.  Carefully tucking the prized bottle away in his long black coat, Rain opened the window and leapt through.

For some, falling is just flying over short distances. The twenty feet to the ground was a very short flight.  Pushing his legs out in front of him, they took for the first brunt Rain’s landing.  He allowed momentum to roll him back onto his feet and walked away before Keating even had a chance to notice his window was open.

Rain was worrying over the bourbon bottle in the mess when Algernon and Peggy came in for lunch that day.

“The box I can get, I’ll ring around a few bars in the city and see who has one on their shelves, but I want to make this bottle spectacular.”

“A half a bottle of alcohol?” Algernon asked, bringing his lunch to the table, now both were looking through the bottles amber glow.

“Exactly, that could be any half bottle of bourbon. I want to make it clear it’s his half bottle,”

“Well there’s plenty of room to put something in with the bourbon. You can get Peggy to try out Hertzfeld’s glove.  She could get something inside without cutting the glass.”

The suggestion had the desired effect, and Rain’s face lit up, “Golf balls!  Peggy!” He called the Doctor over and gestured for her to sit down.

“If I got a number of golf balls, possibly two…?” He asked his technical advisor, Algernon.

“Three would fit nicely,” Algernon replied thoughtfully gauging the available space in the bottle.

“Three balls, would you be able to use Hertzfeld’s glove to put them inside?”

“Yes.  I could also break the bottle.  Can I ask why we’re doing this?”

“It’s a Christmas present,”  Rain replied as if it were self-evident.  

Peggy nodded, “Very well, bring them to my lab as soon as you acquire the balls.”

After a few days trip out to see Ni’Challan, Rain stopped by Keating’s office again.  This time the supervisor was in, busy with a project of his own.

“Sorry to trouble you again, I was wondering if I could ask your advice on something rather important,” Rain poked his head around the door.  He noticed a step ladder dominating the room and a security camera mounted into the corner facing the desk. Wires hung from the camera, and false ceiling tiles gave access to the services above.

“Security camera?s  You know Algernon is very good at installing those.  He used one very effectively in  Ruk just recently,”

“I am rather busy at the moment, can it wait?” Keating grumbled over the directions to the camera installation.

Rain could see Keating would not be so patient with the usual nonsense, so he brought up a subject that he’d been considering for some time.  He slipped in and closed the door.

“I’m considering my future.  I don’t think it’s a surprise to discover I am not the corporate type and my building relationship with Ni’Challan has me thinking of life after The Estate.”

“You’re thinking of leaving?” Keating looked up incredulous, “I know your methods are unorthodox, but you are a very fine agent.  The Estate would be poorer without you.”

The compliment, genuinely given, gave Rain pause.

“That’s very kind of you to say, and I do want to still be of use to The Estate, but possibly in not such a formal capacity,” He stepped in front of the golf bag, deeply moved by what he’d heard.

“And you intend to work with Ni’Challan?  We could do with a liaison out in the Graveyard of the Machine god,” Keating now sat down and mused over the possibilities, “We have such individuals all over the shoals. Still, there are very few inhabitable places in the Graveyard…yes, that could be very useful…” 

The two of them chatted about a future role for Rain outside the confines of The Estate proper.  Rain was impressed by how insightful Keating’s vision of his future.  A contact in the Graveyard for information and to represent the Estate to the community in that area.  Rain found himself enjoying the conversation, even as three balls somehow made their way from the golf bag and into his pockets.

He thanked Keating, apologised for taking up his valuable time and raced over to Peggy’s lab via a stop at the dormitory to pick up the bottle.  It was a moment’s work for Peggy to phase the glove through the glass of the bottle and deposit the three balls in the bourbon, Keating’s signature clearly visible in black Sharpie through the clear amber liquid.

Bruce looking for the group, found them all circling the bourbon bottle, Rain goggling at their new creation. 

“You’ve been up to mischief again,” Bruce said, walking over to see what all the fuss was about.

“How is this news to you?” Peggy replied as Rain was about to hide the bottle from Bruce’s sight.  He thought better of it and let the upright citizen examine their handiwork.

“Is that Keating’s signature?” Bruce pointed as a ball floated lazily passed his finger only millimetres off the bottom of the bottle.

“Yes,”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.” Rain smiled, and changed the subject, “So, already for Railsea?”

“I have training in the dojo this afternoon. The martial arts master has agreed to train with my crowbar, fully padded of course.” Bruce deflected, but his friend was a magician and con man.

“Naturally, and then after?  Tomorrow morning.  That would give me time to find a box and gift wrap the bottle.” He said, tucking it away.

“I have concerns over Mortimer and the triplets.  I know you don’t think of them as real people, but I have a deep concern for their welfare…” Bruce sent the conversation down a misdirected quagmire of blame that even Rain felt he had to defend himself.

“I never…you know me, I love the boys… “ He looked to Algernon and Peggy before realising Bruce’s scheme, “Mr Johnson, was that you trying to steer the conversation away from Railsea?” He looked proudly at Bruce as Bruce’s face turned red.

“Well…”

“That was very good, you had me wondering what I’d said to make you think such a thing,” Rain replied, and then returned to the subject at hand, “So, tomorrow morning then.” 

“We need more information,”
“Now you sound like Algernon,” Peggy commented, and even Algernon had to agree.

“All the information is in Railsea, we just have to get to Manihiki from Bollons,” Rain countered, “Come on Bruce, you do realise you’re the last enigma amongst us.  Let’s go save your father and clear up that blot on your past.”

Bruce agreed grudgingly, and Rain didn’t push the subject. He remembered the private conversation they’d had in the Dreamlands.  Bruce harboured legitimate grudges against his father and was unsure he wanted the man back in his life. He kept that little snippet to himself, keeping the privacy he had created in the dream.

Instead, Rain informed Algernon that Keating had installed a surveillance camera.  Instantly, Algernon pulled out his laptop and hacked into the one camera system via wifi.  He left his computer to record whatever random video it picked up for future use.

The next morning, as promised, the group gathered in Peggy’s lab for the translation to Railsea.  Bruce was wearing the wings Algernon had ‘acquired’ during his time with Doctor Strangelove. A real work of Ruk science and art, the wings were light weight and fitted well to his broad back.  He fiddled with the strappings not used to the restriction on his shoulders and waist.

Algernon led the translation this time and the party without fuss, found themselves dissolving into the Strange.  The first things they could see as they arrive were the greys and dull browns that dominated Railsea.  They were standing in their blood-splattered clothing in the one-room bedsit once owned by Caw Eh Carve.  The furnishings were different, though in the same dreary time-worn fashion of all of Railsea.  Bruce’s wings here were even more impressive steampunk versions of themselves.  All brass with gauges and dials looking more at home on a steam engine with details picked out in gold gilt and glossy black.  He was about to protest their gaudiness when the front door opened and a hairy man dressed only in a bath towel entered the bedsit.

“What?  Do you mind?” He asked, grasping his defensive towel with one hand, looking around him for a weapon for the other.  

Algernon raised his crossbow in readiness.

“Yes we do,” Peggy blustered, pushing passed him and through the front door, “Propriety sir!”

“Sorry to have disturbed you, “ Bruce acknowledged the man’s genuine complaint, “We’ll be on our way.”

They were back, walking down the street of Bollons, smelling the dust in the air, taking in the industrious human activity amid a dessicated world. Above, the sky was a thick grey covering of cloud that unlike Seattle, never lifted.  From vantage points around the city, a sea of sand surrounded Bollons,  crisscrossed by train-track, creating random geometric shapes out to the horizon—the Railsea.

“Oi!” A voice yelled.  Rain turned to Algernon.

“Know anyone called, Oi?” As they slowly turned to see an artist drop his paint pots and run across the road and into an alleyway.  Giving chase were the yellers, three Manihiki Ferro-Naval officers who seemed to have taken offence of the artist’s work. Walking back to the mural, for it was too large and detailed a work to be called graffiti.  All one side of a building had been bisected laterally the top painted the same grey-green as the sky, the bottom the unique yellow-brown of the sand around Bollons.  To the left, a shape was blocked out ready to paint in the details.  The text on the sign was obvious for all to read.

Almighty Bruce

“Like the movie?” Rain asked as the four of them stared amazed at the mural, “Or was that the other way around?”

“What is this?” Bruce asked, feeling very exposed.

“Your past exploits?” Peggy suggested, “You did capture the Dreaming Sable.”

“Harpooned, he never caught it.” Algernon corrected, “Though that shape to the left looks like it could be a moldywarp diving into the sand.”

“Why would they take offence at that?” Peggy asked, referring to the Naval officers well out of sight.

“It has to be a recent development,” Rain dredged up what he knew of Railsea history, “There’s no historical significance that I can gather.”  

He looked around them as the party studied the mural for more details.  People in the street were giving the mural, and them, a wide berth.  It seemed it was dangerous to take an interest in the Almighty Bruce.  The wide berth didn’t stop Bruce himself, reaching out and grappling a passing stranger.

“What’s this?” He asked again, as the shock had robbed him of speech.  

“I don’t know, a picture,” He replied, a smug little grin on his face.

“My friend means, why would the Ferro-navy take offence at this mural?” Rain supplied the required context.

“Oh!  Bruce has been kicking their arses all over!”  He chortled, then caught himself and glanced around them to see who’d noticed.

“So who is he, a Captain?” Rain asked and was rewarded with a dismissive look from the stranger.  There was a disconnect. Bruce wasn’t a train Captain, but then who? Or what?

“You’ve been such a helpful fella, what if I buy you a drink and you can tell us all about it?” Rain suggested, determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.

“Er…if it’s all the same, I’d rather go…”

“I really do Suggest you join us for a drink,” Rain pushed, but was stopped by a familiar heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Let him go,” Bruce said simply.

“But, oh very well…” Rain grumbled and turned back to the man, “Thank you for your time, you have been very helpful.”  The man’s eyes cleared of the Suggestion and scuttled away, confused and bewildered.

Algernon, unrestrained, walked up to another random person and scanned their thoughts,

“Hello, who’s Bruce?” He asked, pointing to the mural.

Bruce, odd name for a fella, Thought the woman, who verbally apologised and also scampered away.

“Not a person,” Algernon informed the group.

“Well, we can find out all that later,” Peggy finally said once it was clear there was little more to gather from the mural, “I need new clothes, let’s got to the market and we can ask there.”

The Bollons markets were the heart of Bollons itself with anything and everything on sale, even rumours.  Here Peggy found the first pair of pant that she thought may fit and asked to buy them.  It was a rare, but not unheard of thing for a woman to go around in men’s clothes and Peggy’s money was as good as the next gentleman’s.  Rain was a little more choosy and wove in and out of the clothing stalls until he felt suitably dressed and the party had heard several different versions of the legend that was the Almighty Bruce.

“Fight the power!   Almighty Bruce!” One shopkeeper proclaimed a little loudly and scared himself, checking who had heard and ducking back into his clothing racks, “Yes, the captain was a deserter from the Ferro-Navy.  He found himself a train out on the Railsea and liberated the tiny mining community of Omoka.  Almighty Bruce has been hunting the  Ferro-Navy trains ever since.”

“Regardless of what you think of him, he never forgot you,” Rain said quietly, as he adjusted the fit of a worn but serviceable gold and brown silk striped vest. From a stand, he snatched up a yellow silk scarf and tied it loosely like an ascot around his neck. 

Bruce glanced back as Rain completed his dressing with a long blonde frock coat that had seen better days, “There’s nothing to say that it’s him.”

“Your unusual name and him being a navy deserter says it is,” Rain murmured back and went to pay.

“Anything else we should know?” Bruce asked the stall owner.

“Nothing really, just don’t mention the Bruce around the Navy.” The stall owner added unhelpfully.

Omoka was north-west of Manihiki.  The group would need to take passage on one of the trains heading north to find the Almighty Bruce, her Captain and hopefully Jimmy Johnson.

“We need to get on a Navy train,” Algernon stated adamantly.  If the Bruce were attacking Navy vessels, they could do worse than book passage on one.

“Yes, let them come to us,” Rain said as Bruce shook his head.

“That’s the hard way. I want to know more about this Captain first.”

“To the rumourmarket then, “ Rain clapped his hands together and led the way.

The rumourmarket of Bollons was famous.  It was a great place to find out information, but more importantly, it was a place where information could be disseminated and spread.  As they walked, they prepared a little rumour of their own, so when Bruce and Rain discussed terms with the rumour mongers, they had something with which to barter.

“Good day, I’m looking for information on the Captain of the Almighty Bruce,” Rain announced to the rumourmonger, “I have a trade, information pertaining to the Captain’s son.”

“The son of the Captain of the Almighty Bruce?” She said in disbelief, “I have to hear this so, for what little I know, you’ve got a deal.”  

They moved through the rumourmarket talking to every rumourmonger they could.  In exchange for whatever snippet they could offer, Rain and Bruce told them, “The Captain’s son is on his way to Manihiki.”

They came away knowing less for certain about the Captain than they had previously.  No one in the rumour market knew the Captain’s name, though the story of him being a press-ganged deserter was by far the most common tale about the man.  One rumour had him as an old Naval Admiral seeking some personal revenge of his own.  The most ludicrous was that there was no Almighty Bruce and that it was, in fact, a Ferro-Navy conspiracy to raise money.  

They were heading back through the market when they spied four Ferro Navy Officers heading in their direction. 

“These damn stupid wings,” Bruce said as he realised they had been spotted by the brass wings glittering on his back, “They’re too flamboyant for this.”

“Nonsense,” Rain smiled and stepped up to greet the officers, “ There’s no such thing as too flamboyant.”

“Gentlemen, what can we do for you today?”

“What do you know about the son of a certain Captain?” One demanded, obviously seen as the most intimidating of the four.

“Captain?” Rain asked

“Captain who?” Bruce added hoping these log-heads would drop that snippet of information to show how clevers they were.  

“You’ve been sharing a rumour about his son all over the market, what else do you know?” The officer flexed.  Yes, these officers were used to bullying people for what they wanted.

“Oh, the rumour wasn’t that we knew the son, the rumour is that the son is heading for Manihiki,” Rain explained as if it were all a simple misunderstanding.  

“Huh,” The officer grunted and looked to his fellow navy men for help, “Know any more?”

“‘Fraid not, gentleman, that’s what brought us to the rumour market in the first place.”

The four officer’s seemed to deflate at the news.  Their hot tip had turned cold.

“Uh…if you hear anything, we’d appreciate it if you could let the Navy know,”

“Anyone we could get in contact with? Maybe someone we can put in a good word for “…four upstanding officers…” of the Ferro Navy?” Rain asked, and received the name of an Admiral As Lac Grel as well as the calling card for the most talkative of the four officers, Ro Ban Ottmer.  Offering their best of luck, Rain and Bruce headed back through the market sure that if they saw those officers again, it would be too soon.

Peggy and Algernon were also busy.  Peggy was going from bar to bar talking for train Captains heading to Manihiki and seeing if they were interested in hiring-on.  It was true that Peggy was a first-rate engineer and Algernon and Bruce had more than proven their skills as gunners, but Rain’s talents were always harder to define.  She offered Rain’s services as a general hand.

Algernon was scanning the stalls for cyphers as usual.  Looking carefully through the offerings, he could feel the presence of the Strange on the items that didn’t belong and were hiding in plain sight.  He was offered a potion by a  stall keeper, didn’t think much of it and moved on.  At another stall, he found a handle which he identified quickly as a monoblade, a collar which seemed to change its wearer’s appearance and an odd block that he discovered was a salve with healing properties.  The first two, he paid the asking price and was able to get the third for free.  Algernon walked away, feeling he’d won the trade game and found the others as Peggy was sharing what she had organised with Bruce and Rain.

“General hand, I’m not a general anything,” Rain grumbled.  Peggy ignored his protests and continued.

“The train is the Gliding Vulpine, a diesel heading out tomorrow morning.  The captain’s name is Al Ram Kuno and has agreed to take us on as crew in exchange for transport, food and board.”

“We’re not getting paid?  You alone are worth more than transport,” Algernon said to Peggy as he stowed his treasures in a hessian haversack referring to her knack at improving engine performance.

“Yes, well I’d do it anyway, but this way I have permission,” She replied looking forward to getting her hands on the inner workings of the Gliding Vulpine.

That night they found lodging at one of the taverns and early the next morning they were down at the dock boarding the Gliding Vulpine.  Bruce and Algernon were surprised to discover that though the train was equipt with ballista, they were the only gunners.

“We’re a trading vessel, we usually don’t need heavy defences,” Captain Al Ram Kuno replied smoothly.  Knowing the dangers of the Railsea, Algernon wasn’t so sure.  A quick investigation of the gunnery deck soon proved his suspicions.  Though the deck itself was neatly scrubbed and train-shape, they’d missed dried blood left in the cracks and seams of the carriage roof. The Gliding Lupine had undoubtedly come across some adventure.  Algernon and Bruce organised their shifts to ensure they wouldn’t become the next blood smear.

Peggy went straight down to the engine, greeted the current engineering staff with a nodd and got to work even before the train had left the dock.  Rain alone slunk around the train, dodging work until the Captain spotted him and put him on as switcher.  The speed and timing required to shift the train onto a new track amused Rain as did being at the helm beside the Captain as decisions of navigation were made through the wild tangle of the Railsea.  

The group’s first day onboard was uneventful.  Getting used to the train layout and its crew idiosyncrasies kept them busy for the most part.  Bruce made a point of feeling out the crew and Captain about the Almighty Bruce and the Ferro Navy.  The crew, in general, were ambivalent about the Ferro navy and its dealings. Most felt that it was best not to get involved with whatever the Navy considered its duty.  The Captain, on the other hand, had nothing but praise for the Ferro-navy.

“They keep the Railsea safe for honest traders such as ourselves,” He boasted, though Rain felt that was more because he paid for protection and had no fear of being attacked by the Navy.

The day slipped passed like the Railsea’s sands, and with the evening, Bruce found himself alone on the gunnery deck.  Now without the cumbersome wings, he felt at ease scanning the seemingly empty Railsea for signs of activity on the rails or below.  A soft shifting of sand, the appearance of bow wave as something large broke the surface.  Silently slipping through the sand beside the train, the velvety grey hide of a massive moldywarpe kept pace with the train.  Thirty metres long from nose to harpoon riddled rear the creature turned its eye on Bruce, and a blue spiral glow lit the night.  It was the Dreaming Sable!

“Mole Breech!” Bruce roared as he brought the trains Ballista about.  The Dreaming Sable rolled, the bolt flew wide of the mark and skittered away into the darkness.  With an economy of movement, the talpa swung into the train, shoulder checking the carriage Bruce now rode. Taking the opportunity, Bruce leapt from the train onto the mole itself.  His crowbar in hand, he used his forward momentum to smash it down onto the back of the mole.  

A roar from the mole broke the night as the train’s crew also scrambled to their posts.  Peggy was flung from her hammock and smashed into the bulkhead winding her as Algernon and Rain grabbed crossbow and the abandoned wings respectively.  As they climbed up on deck the mole attacked again, this time rolling into the train.  Algernon deftly made it to the gunnery deck, his jawbone crossbow ready as Bruce ran with the rolling mole keeping his footing for a second swing at the creature.  Rain leapt as the train jolted, rocketing into the night’s sky on brass wings as he watched Bruce now run along the spine of the beat to its head, the glowing eyes leading the way. Bringing the crowbar down between the creature’s glowing orbs, the mole rolled again and threw Bruce from its back, into the darkness of the sands.  This time, the roll derailed the carriage dragging the engine with it.  

Rain could only watch as he saw first Bruce and then the Captain and helmsman thrown into the night. It was no contest. Bruce needed to get off the exposed sand and back to the mole.  With a thought, he tilted forward, and the wings took him out across the sand to where Bruce was already picking himself up.

“Here, take the wings, why you weren’t wearing them I’ll never know,” He complained already unbuckling as he landed.  The sand below their feet shifted and rumbled ominously.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Bruce acknowledged his friend’s gesture but stayed Rain’s hands on the buckles with his own.

“Well, then…” Through the touch, Rain pushed the Strange to Bruce making the big man gasp, “Hit the thing from me!”   Energised, Bruce raced across the tracks towards the mole as Rain shot back into the air and out to where the Captain and helmsman had fallen. 

Back on the train, Algernon focused the Strange on the Dreaming Sable’s wedge-shaped head.  The powers twisted and shifted the mole’s view of the world, distracting it and slowing it down.  Bruce caught up and climbed up the hill of a creature aiming for the head.  Through the cracks in the upturned carriage walls, Peggy focused her thoughts on the Dreaming Sable.  Understanding its weaknesses and feeling its proximity to the prone engine, she too drew the energies of the Strange to her and bided her time, waiting to make her strike.

Now the train had stopped, the mole took advantage of its fallen prey and rose into the air twenty feet before crashing down, breaking the back of the engine.  A cracking blue plasma arc snapped out of the carriage and connected the mole to the diesel engine.  Suffused with the blue webbing of energised gasses, creature and machine were bound together to the same fate.  The plasma found the fuel tanks.  A heavy thud, a flash of light, and the whole world shook with the explosion as the engine blew up under the mole’s massive body.  The Dreaming Sable shuddered and moaned, its end was nigh as Algernon and Bruce readied their attacks.

Out on the sand, the Captain and helmsman were running for their lives.  Drawn by the activity of the Dreaming Sable, humps in the sand glided in from all quarters.  Smaller mole rats, though still the size of Alsations grabbed and nipped at their boots.  From the air, Rain dove, snatching up the Captain and dragging him to the relative safety of the rails as the helmsman tripped and fell to the razor teeth of a dozen rodents, tearing him apart.  Rain screamed into the night as, at the train, Algernon and Bruce delivered their final blows.  Algernon’s bolt sank deep into the flesh of the beast now exposed by the explosion as Bruce, now back at the head of the beast delivered a mightly blow into one of the glowing spiral eyes.  A crack of bone, the crowbar sunk deep, breaking the creatures’s skull.  The Dreaming Sable shuddered, the blue glow from the eyes dulled and disappeared as the creature fell, the mountain of fur and flesh finally defeated.

“I am Mighty Bruce!” Bruce roared, from the head of the beast.  The sound of it echoed across the empty desert to where the Captain and Rain stood.  A reply rose from the stricken train, as the crew cheered the hero of the moment.  The Captain did not cheer, just scowled and started walking back to his fallen train, the horrified Rain on his heels.

The night was long, dirty and anxious as the crew got to work.  Under Peggy’s expert eye, half righting what was left of the train and returned it to the tracks.  The other half, overseen by Bruce and Algernon butchered the Dreaming Sable before it, and they, were food for lesser mole rats.  Peggy dolefully salvaged what she could from the engine, but it was a wreck only good for scrap.  The Captain awarded the kill to Bruce, asking Bruce to refrain from referring to himself as the ‘Mighty Bruce’. It didn’t matter, the crew all knew, and once they made landfall, it would be a moment’s work for the legend of the Mighty Bruce to spread.

As dawn rose over the Railsea, a few of the group spotted a very familiar red rag flapping in the morning breeze.

“Hey, that’s my flag, we’re near the old theatre,” Rain said, and Peggy’s demeanour improved considerably.

“Molly!”  She cried and scrambled out of the wreckage that had once been the Gliding Vulpine

“Molly?” Rain asked, sure they’d seen no one in the lost theatre but a couple of giants rats and spiders.

“The engine.  I called her Molly.” Peggy replied self-consciously.  She looked over the desert to the flapping red rag, “I wonder if we wrap a good heavy chain around the drive wheel if we couldn’t pull her out onto the rails…”

To be continued…

A first Christmas

December 1995 – Morris House, Slough – 7 years old

The Morrises had bought a dead tree and put it in their living room.  It took up the entire corner Tobias liked to sit in when no one was around.  Even now he tried hiding behind the tree, crushing piney needles, making his palms sticky.

The rest of the children of the Morris’ foster house were excited about the visitors from the local church.  Tobias wasn’t sure why the fuss. They saw the same people every Sunday and barely ever spoke to them unless told to by the Morrises.  Of course, it was Christmas, but in Tobias’ short life and even shorter memory, that didn’t warrant all this excitement

He remembered classmates being excited for Djeda Mraz’s visitation New Years day, but the bearded man never made an appearance at his home…

Don’t go there. Danger ! Danger!.

Okay.

Britain also had Djeda Mraz but without his grand-daughter Sneguochka. He wore red and seemed to arrive at Christmas instead of New Years.  It made sense, there were a lot of places to visit and he couldn’t be everywhere on one day.

“Mrs Morris, Toby’s hiding in the tree again.”  Christine chorused as she spotted him shift uncomfortably. A branch was poking into his side, he broke it off.

“Toby.  Get out from under the tree.  I don’t want you full of pine needles for the guests.”  Mrs Morris called from the kitchen where she was busy making tasty treats with the bigger boys and girls.

“He hasn’t moved, Mrs Morris.”  Christine called again a few moments later.  She was too busy rummaging through boxes of colourful balls and strings of lights to pay much attention to him other than to get him in trouble.

A deep murmured voice and a heavy footfall signaled the arrival of Mr Morris.  Tobias shrank back against the wall. Through the branches he could see Mr Morris’s huge frame taking up the entire doorway.  With the same heavy gait his foster father marched across the lounge and knelt in front of the tree.

“I don’t know Toby,” he said quietly enough so only Tobias could hear, “There’s a lot of crazy goings on out here.  Do you think there’s room for me behind the tree?”

Tobias grinned.  It was ridiculous, there was barely room for him behind the tree, how would a huge man like Mr Morris fit.  He shook his head shyly.

“Shame.  I could really do with a break from all their Christmas shenanigans.  I guess your family didn’t celebrate Christmas did they?”

Tobias thought.  It that why I don’t remember….

No!  Leave those alone!

He shook his head.

“No. Still, lots of people do in your country.  The Catholics like us and the Orthodox. What do you remember of that time of year?”

Again he though.  Careful to steer clear of the dangerous memories. He remembered late at night hearing singing coming through his bedroom window.  From his bed he couldn’t hear the words, but he remembered very well the sound of all those voices singing together as one.

“I like…” and he started humming the tune as best as he could remember it.

“That’s a lovely Christmas carol. I’m fond of them too.”  And in response Mr Morris started singing in his rich baritone a song Tobias hadn’t heard before.

O come, o come Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel.

That mourn in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appears.

Rejoice!  Rejoice! Emmauel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

It was  very sad, sweet tune that seemed to cry as well as celebrate.  When he stopped there wasn’t a sound in the house. Slowly the kitchen chatter started again and Christine went back to rummaging through the boxes.

“That is a very old song, do you know it?”  Mr Morris asked the tree. The tree shook its head.

”Beau-ti-ful.”

“Oh yes.  It is about the people of Israel, stolen from their home and made slaves. But they were promised a mighty king would bring them altogether one day and he would be called Emmanuel.  So even in their captivity they celebrated.”

Tobias nodded, picking up one word in three.  He was pretty smart, and though English wasn’t even his second language he could tell this was a story meant for him.

“See, being happy is about how you feel. But joy is you saying ‘No, this bad time will not last and I will live like I am living in the good times until they come for real.’  Does that make sense?”

Tobias nodded slowly.  He thought he understood.

“You teach…Em-man-uel?”

Mr Morris beamed and held a hand out to the tree.  A small delicate hand took his and Tobias climbed out.

“It would be my pleasure.  If you like we could sing it for the guests coming today.”

Tobias didn’t know about that.  He liked to sing but was forever in trouble for getting the words wrong.  

Mr Morris however, quickly rounded up Christine and a few other children and taught them all, O Come, O Come, as a small choir. Some were not interested at first and others couldn’t hold a tune, but slowly the voices built.  

What Tobias lacked in pronounciation he made up for in having a decent singing voice and a love of music. Mr Morris gave him a small harmony in verses so he didn’t stumble over unknown words.

When the guests arrived all bundled with parcels and silly hats, the choir of 5 children and Mr Morris welcomed them.

“If I’d known we’d be welcomed with music I would have brought my singing hat.”  Joked a very elderly stranger who was introduced as Mr Samuels, and friend to several of the church members.

Tobias wasn’t sure about a singing hat, but he was sure he like this man.  For one thing he was short for an adult, and thin but he had a bright spark of mischief in his eyes and was always ready with a joke or a laugh.

Throughout the day, Tobias felt drawn to Mr Samuels side, making excuses to bring him snacks or sit closer to listen to him talk. He spoke perfect English, but his accent was not English and reminded him of…

Don’t think of them!

He shrunk down beside Mr Samuel’s chair and allowed the excitement to flow around him.  The older foster children knew that after the meal they would be given the presents brought by the guests from the church congregation as a whole.  The others tried to guess what they would be given when Tobias noticed Mr Samuels watching him.

“I’d say this is an unusual scene for you, Tobias.”  Mr Samuels said surprising Tobias. He’d not realised the old man had noticed him or for that matter even knew his name.  “Mr Morris told me your name after the carol. You have a fine voice.”

“I have…little English….”  He wanted to explain. He needed the old man to know it wasn’t that he was stupid or mean that he didn’t speak for himself, but that right now he had no words.

“But you make yourself heard eloquently regardless.”  Mr Samuels replied with a smile, “That means, I understand you.”

Tobias laughed with relief and he felt warmed by the old man’s attention.

“Now, I don’t know if anyone has got around to asking you, but what would you like for Christmas?”

Tobias wasn’t sure.  He hadn’t thought he would get anything.  Toys and books were all well and good, but after you’ve found out all they do or read to the last page, then what?  He remembered watching a television Christmas special with a famous magician who had put swords all through his assistant in a box, and the assistant had come out untouched.

“For Christmas please…I want …magic.” he said haltingly to Mr Samuel, whose eyebrows disappeared into his silly Christmas hat.

“Magic.  Tell me, how did you come to think of that?”

Slowly with gestures and  a quick run to find pen and paper, Tobias told, signed and drew what he had seen.  It took sometime and Mrs Morris came with plates of food for both of them before they had finished.

“You know what Tobias, that is some very powerful magic.  It would take years of training and a good assistant to pull off magic like that.”

Tobias sighed, of course it would.  How could such amazing feats be compared to dolls and construction sets.

“That’s not to say you can’t start learning magic.”  Mr Samuels slowly stood groaning from his chair. “I’ll have a word with your foster parents and then…well…we’ll see.  Will you be patient and wait for me to come back?”

Tobias wasn’t sure what was happening, but there was a light in Mr Samuels’ eyes and a feeling that something important was about to happen.  He nodded with eager agreement.

Mr Samuels went to find the Morrises and then he left and Tobias was alone again.

“Why don’t you join the rest of us, “  Mr Morris called from the hall. Tobias didn’t want to, he wanted to hide behind the tree again and think about Mr Samuels.  But then, he remembered the song and what it meant. He took a deep breath.

“Yes, Mr Morris…I come.”

The others had all gathered in the newly cleared dining room.  A large stack of parcels all colourfully wrapped now stood on the table.  As each child’s name was called, they would excitedly step up and be given a parcel that they would either open on the spot for everyone to see, or take away to open in private.  The adults laughed at the antics of each of the children as they exclaimed over their gifts.

Tobias sat watching as one child after another got a gift.  He clapped and even laughed with them in their happiness knowing that Mr Samuels had promised to come back.  The thought didn’t make him happy, but he was content to wait, knowing he was bringing magic!

When all the gifts were given and commented on, and the other children had wandered off to play with their new items, the adults settled into discussions about leaving.

“But Mr Samuels come back.”  Tobias protested and the adults accepted his rebuke with good humour and chatted a while longer.  As time went on, however, there was more glances at watches and concerns for what needed to be done at home.  One by one the guests left until it was only Tobias and the Morrises left.  

Outside the winter day fled quickly leaving nothing but a blustery wind that fitfully buffeted the garden outside the lounge windows.

“Tobias, go to bed.  Mr Samuels is an old man and can’t be expected to come out in the dark and cold for you.”  Mrs Morris bustled around, much like the breeze outside. Everywhere she went she moved, sorted and picked up things leaving everything much as she had found them.  Mr Morris sat nearby in silence and watching much like the moon, changing nothing but providing a guiding light. Tobias fidgetted. He didn’t want to go against the authority of Mrs Morris but Mr Samuels had promised and had asked for patience.  He didn’t want to disappoint the old man by being asleep when he did come back.

The story of the captive Israelites came to him a second time and without explanation, Tobias opened his  mouth and started singing the song he had learnt only that morning.

“O Come, O Come Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

Who mourn in lonely exile here…”

“I think he’s made his decision, love.”  Mr Morris said to Mrs Morris trying to hide a smile.

“Don’t smirk at me…”  She chided her husband,  “Oh, I guess it’s okay as long as he doesn’t wake the others.”

“Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee O Israel.”

Tobias stumbled through all seven verses with the help of Mr Morris until they got to the end  and he started again. By the fourth time he was singing it alone when car lights lit the front garden.  Mrs Morris went to get the door.

“Mr Samuels!  Get in here out of the cold before you catch your death!”  She exclaimed from the front door.

“I had to come, I could hear the joyful song calling me.”  said Mr Samuels jubilant voice over the wind.

Tobias’ song stumbled and died as in limped Mr Samuels handing his coat and scarf to a waiting Mrs Morris.  In one hand a plastic bag, on his head a little white hat was pinned to his thin grey hair.

“And see, I have brought my singing hat.”  he pointed to the yarmulke and laughed.

“You didn’t need to come out on a night like this…”  Mrs Morris started but when Mr Morris got up and offered his seat to Mr Samuels he said quietly, 

“Tobias never gave up waiting.”

Tears started in the old man’s eyes and he brushed them away deftly, checking his yarmulke was still in place.

“Well then I hope it was worth the wait.”  He sat down and now turned his attention to the little boy standing near the window.  

“Come here, this is something that demands close attention.”  He beckoned Tobias over as he pulled a small wooden box and a worn paperback book from his plastic bag.

“I’m afraid it took me longer to find than I’d thought.  Fifty years in a place you tend to collect a lot of junk.”

He put the box in Tobias’ yielding hand and placed the book beside him.

“This is old.  Older than me and I don’t doubt that there’s magic in it as I’ve only ever opened one compartment.  It is called a puzzle box and it’s meant to test and delight bright minds.”

He then picked up the book.  Tobias could see on its creased and yellow cover the title, Bobo’s modern coin magic.

“This also tests and delights a bright mind.  These are tricks you can learn that look like magic and to those who don’t know the secret they will be.”  He handed the book to the boy as well. “Would you like me to show you how they work?”

Tobias nodded, wide eyed with awe and pleasure as Mr Samuels rolled up his sleeves and got to work.  On the inside of Mr Samuel’s arm, Tobias noticed a set off numbers smudged and dull blue on his tissue paper skin.

“Never mind those.”  Mr Samuels said when he saw Tobias looking, “They are a reminder to me to always live in hope, no matter how bad things get.”

“Just like…Emmanuel!”  Tobias replied touching the tattoo.

“Just like your song.”

And the two of them worked deep into the night practising magic tricks and learning the secrets of the magic puzzle box.