Death of a Tree

Cain returned after a long day at work. He was looking forward to his sofa and possibly Ambrose's lap as a pillow. And maybe, if he was lucky, Ambrose had been home early enough to prepare a nice meal. His stomach growled at the thought. All day, he hadn't had the time for a proper meal and now he was starving. He opened the door, humming.

And nearly tripped over a box. The entire living room floor was strewn with these boxes, containing strange little glass balls in all colors of the rainbow. His beloved sofa was covered in metallic sparkling threads. In front of the window stood a fir of at least two meters height. Cain sighed heavily.

"What in the eclipse is the headcase up to this time?" he wondered vexedly. "This better not be one of his experiments again!" Only last month, he'd come home to find the kitchen turned into a laboratory. All countertops had been covered with bottles and tubes and other equipment Cain couldn't even name. They had to eat out for a week since Ambrose claimed his experiment mustn't be disturbed. And it had taken another two weeks to get the acrid smell out of the rooms.

"Glitch!" he called grimly, kicking some of the boxes out of the way to make it through the living room. The advisor had gotten his brain back half an annual ago and once again thought of himself as Ambrose. Still, his friends continued calling him Glitch and he didn't mind. It had become a treasured endearment.

"Welcome home, sweetheart." Ambrose emerged from the bedroom, grinning widely. Glitter sparkled in his curls and on his cheeks.

Cain only folded his arms before his chest. His fingers drummed impatiently on his elbow. "Would you explain this to me?" he demanded.

But Ambrose was not in the least impressed by his bad mood. "Aww, come on. Don't be such a grumpy old man," he warbled and crossed the distance to place a light kiss on Cain's cheek. "It's Christmas!"

"It's what?" Cain knew he'd regret asking the moment the words left his lips.

"Christmas!" Ambrose explained excitedly. "It's a tradition from the Other Side. D.G. told me about it. She's depressed because her mother won't allow her to celebrate it. She says she has to get used to our customs, if she wants to be queen one day…"

"D.G., of course, who else could've been behind this," Cain thought to himself, rolling his eyes. Nothing good could ever come out of it when these two put their heads together. "And so you decided you would prepare a Christmas celebration for her, right?" he concluded, rubbing his pounding temples. By now, he knew his scarecrow and his ill-conceived plans all too well.

Ambrose beamed, "Exactly! You're gonna love it. There's lots of food and gifts and everyone has lots of fun."

The Tin Man highly doubted it. "And what's all this for?" He spread his arms, indicating the mess around him.

"That's for decoration," the advisor stated matter-of-factly. He picked up one of the boxes. "Look, I had these especially made, following D.G.'s description. They're being put on the tree like this." He took one of the red balls from the box and hung it onto a branch. "I couldn't decide on a color. So I just told them to use every color they had. What do you think…?" he rambled on.

Cain could only shake his head disbelieving. "And that's why you had to cut down that poor tree? For decoration?"

"Oh no, I didn't. Jeb and his friends did," Ambrose smiled.

"I can't believe you even got my son involved in this. Are you all out of your mind?" Cain decided he was definitely too tired for this conversation. All he wanted was his peace and quiet.

Before he could say any more on the matter, the door behind him swung open. "Hey, Glitch, I brought the ladder," his son called and accidentally jabbed the ladder into his back.

Cain growled under his breath and counted silently to five to calm himself.

"Sorry, dad. I didn't see you," Jeb apologized casually as he passed him and arranged the ladder in front of the tree. "Now, let's get started," he grinned at Ambrose, rubbing his hands expectantly. "Dad, you're helping, too?" He climbed up the run and the advisor handed him the red glass balls.

Cain couldn't believe the scene playing out in front of him. "What did he do to make you do this?" he asked his son, "Did he bribe you? Threaten you?"

Jeb just shrugged, "It sounds like fun!"

In response, his father only threw him a sharp look and shook his head, leaving for the bedroom.

"You really are no fun, you know that, Tin Man?" Ambrose called after him teasingly, but Cain didn't react to it. "Where are you going anyway?" he tried again.

"I'm taking a bath," Cain barked and slammed the door shut behind him.

The bath had relaxed him and lifted his spirits. He still felt hungry though. Cain only hoped he could make it past these two maniacs to the kitchen, without being drawn into this Christmas mess again. Carefully, he peered around the bedroom wall. It was quiet in the living room. Ambrose was sitting at the dining table alone, a bowl of steaming hot soup in front of him.

"Where's Jeb?" Cain asked, looking around.

"He left once we were done. I thought you might be hungry." He pushed the bowl over in an invitation for Cain to join him.

The Tin Man couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face. "You're the best, you know that?" He sat down and relished the soup. Its warmth revived him and he felt bad about his outburst before. "I'm sorry about earlier," he mumbled.

Ambrose got up and came around the table. Stroking his hair, he placed a feather light kiss on the crown of his head. "You look tired, Tin Man."

Cain leaned into the touch. "I am," he sighed, relaxed now.

The advisor lead him to the sofa, now rid of the shiny stuff, sat them down and pulled Cain's head into his lap. Softly, he massaged his scalp.

As his eyes slowly drifted shut, Cain examined the tree. It was richly decorated in red and purple colored glass balls; candles burned in the branches and made the tinsel sparkle. The candles emited a warm light and the fir gave off a subtle sent of forest. It actually had a soothing effect on Cain. "Nice job, headcase," he commented. "Though I still think it's a pity to kill a tree for this…"