I.
Tim McGee found it hard to sleep one night shortly after JAG's indictment. He usually dropped off without any trouble; the typical 50-60 hour work weeks used up much of his energy. Not tonight, though. Something deep inside him didn't want him to be at ease, and yet he couldn't identify what it was. Late-night pizza, he thought. Or maybe it was the peppermint stick hot cocoa I had later. He could still taste the holiday treat. He brought it out at Christmastime just as others brought out the Christmas decorations: the bells and candles; the nativity scenes; the wreaths, the ribbons, the wrapping paper; the Christmas cookie recipes; the Christmas DVDs and CDs; the tree, the ornaments and the lights.
Tim rolled over and back in bed, fighting the tangling sheets in the dark, until he at last sat up.
The room was no longer dark.
His night table lamp, the ceiling light and the track light in his closet were all off, but still the room was lit, dimly, from somewhere. In the center of his bedroom, looking at him solemnly, stood a white goose with a wreath of holly around its neck.
Tim sat up and rubbed his head in amazement. Never before had he had a dream like this!
"You are a long time arousing, Timothy," said the goose. At least Tim thought it was the goose speaking in a mild, unfamiliar voice. Its beak opened and closed as it talked. The pitch was moderate; unquantifiable as either male or female. "Considering that you did not appear to be sleeping well."
"What in the name of—Who or what are you?" Tim demanded. "How did you get in here—Tony! This sounds like one of his tricks."
The goose looked unperturbed. "I am the Christmas Goose. To a certain few, I bring tidings of things yet to come."
"There must be a recording device around here…it would be just like Tony to plant a stuffed goose in here and insert a tape, or a microphone, and laugh himself silly. Very funny, Tony!" he yelled at the goose. "Well, I am going back to sleep!" He did get back into bed, and fumbled for the lamp switch before realizing that the lamp was still off.
"Huh. That's strange…" Tim now looked carefully about the room from the vantage point of his bed. There was still the dim glow from an unseen light source; casting everything in a soft golden hue, or perhaps like a sepia tone of old. Curled on his dog bed against a wall, Jethro slept on peacefully.
"Look, Tony; I don't know how you're doing this. Did you get Abby to do this with you?" Tim snapped.
"Tony is not involved in this," said the goose. "This concerns only you and me."
"You can't fool me, Tony. This has DiNozzo written all over it! Well, two can play at this game. I'll just tinker with the wiring in your goose, and then we'll see who laughs—gotcha!" Tim lunged for the goose.
The goose, of course, saw him coming. It had been watching him all along. It made no effort to get away.
Tim wrapped his arms around the round, white creature and grabbed…nothing. His fingers, hands, and arms went right through the creature, which had no more substance than air.
A feeling of some dread washed over Tim then, starting in his heart and radiating in all directions. "This isn't real," he said to himself, but aloud. "This isn't happening. This is only a dream. A really, really strange one, but a dream nonetheless."
"It's no dream, Timothy," said the goose, and stopped to preen the feathers of its left wing for a moment. "Are you familiar with the song that starts, 'Christmas is a-coming, and the geese are getting fat'?"
"Yes. I sang it as a kid.
Christmas is a-comin' and the geese are getting fat;
Please to put a penny in the poor man's hat.
If you haven't…
"I can't remember the rest."
"I will help you.
If you haven't got a penny, then a ha'penny will do;
If you haven't got a ha'penny, may God bless you."
"Yeah, so?" Tim laughed, with a touch of a sneer. "How long has it been since half pennies were in circulation? Not that one would go very far today, anyway."
"It was meant as a teaching song, for children," the goose said, in its mild tone. "It is a song about giving. Even the humblest child has something to give to a less fortunate person."
"I give to charity," Tim shot back. "I have deductions taken from my paycheck, and I write out checks to other charities over the year."
"Do you? And this is what you consider giving of yourself?"
"Look, Goose, or whatever you are. This has to be one of the craziest dreams I've ever had at…" Tim looked over at his alarm clock, but the glowing LED digits made no sense to him. "…at whatever the time is."
"You have a chance to make amends," said the goose. "A chance to learn. Let it begin…tomorrow."
"Amends? Amends for what? I haven't done anything!"
"That is correct," said the goose. Suddenly the room plunged into its normal nighttime darkness.
Tim blinked a few times and let his eyes adjust to the dark. The goose was nowhere to be seen.
Shaking his head and then laying down, Tim fell fast asleep.