Chapter 117: Celebrations (Part One: The Holiday Star)


Jake and Nick talk about how they celebrated the holidays when they were younger.


"I was talking to Boris Snarloff yesterday about how the boys will be leaving milk and cookies out for Santa Paws on Winter's Eve and you are not going to believe what he told me the arctic wolves do on that night?" the thin raccoon in the blue sport shirt and well-starched khakis said as he watched while the lean fox in the old tee shirt and worn jeans began to line up his shot. He rattled the ice in his drink glass before he thumped it down onto the rich dark brown wooden bar top.

"Jake, are you trying to distract me?" the fox sarcastically replied as he briefly glanced away from the pool table and toward the raccoon. "Even if I miss this shot, you are still losing."

"No, Nick, I'm serious," the raccoon added.

"Yes, you are seriously losing," Nick scoffed as the cream-colored cue ball hit the canary yellow and white nine-ball, sending it rolling down the green-colored felt tabletop and into the table's right corner pocket.

"Boris said that they would go out on Winter's Eve to visit the graves of their pack's deceased and light candles in their memories. A meal would also be left on their dinner tables and they would sleep on the floor instead of their beds so that the dead will have a nice meal and someplace to rest when they visit."

"That is rather strange."

"I can just see Marie's face if I told her that we had to sleep on the hard wooden floor just in case my Uncle Ezekiel returned for the night."

"I'd rather have your dead uncle sleeping in your bed than possessing me again. He did that twice, coon, and that is more than enough."

"He's not around here anymore," Jake laughed. "I told you he left when he found out that I was his great, great nephew and that I was buying this place. He only haunted the house because he felt the bank stole the land it was built upon from him and when I bought it, his land was back in the family."

"Still, sometimes…" the fox began and then he slightly shivered, his ears shot up in a panic when he heard a thumping noise from upstairs and then they flattened in embarrassment when he realized that it was just one of the boys. "This place can get a little creepy when you are here alone."

"The brown bears make their holiday pudding to be served on the Winter's Solstice," the raccoon continued while he lined up his own shot. "Every member of the family is supposed to stir the cake mix clockwise while making a wish. Some of the bears even put a coin in the mix which is supposed to bring wealth to whoever finds it in their serving or a thimble for good luck."

"It's only good luck if you don't bite down on one of those," Nick chuckled.

"I've always wondered if there were any foxy traditions which your family had?" Jake asked.

"Drink heavy, cuss a lot, and watch porn," the fox teased with a straight face. "At least that is what I've heard we foxes do on Winter's Eve."

"You missed counting the money you stole from others during the year," the raccoon added. "Do you really bury mason jars stuffed with stolen cash in the backyard? Now that is something I heard that you red foxes do too?"

"Ah, the wonderful joys of being stereotyped," Nick sarcastically sighed out. "Don't forget to break down any large boxes so that when the raccoons pick up your trash, they won't know what you got for Winter's Eve. If you don't, they might sneak back later on and steal your gift."

The raccoon cursed when he missed his shot. "So you foxes don't do anything special?" he asked again.

"Nope, not really. Of course, since Carrots and I have no kits, we usually work Winter's Eve night so the cops who do can spend the night's festivities with their families. Did you and your father do anything special when you were growing up?"

"Since we didn't have any other family, my pop used to take me down to the Main Street Café for dinner, and then we'd watch old movies. The next morning we'd go to Saint Patrick's for the Winter's Solstice sunrise service, afterwards, we'd go back home for breakfast and then open presents. Every year we got a small freshly cut pine tree because we didn't have any space to store an artificial one and we couldn't afford a larger tree. I would make paper chains from colored construction paper and cut paper snowflakes from an old newspaper for decorations. There was a rather gaudy looking tinsel star which my pop kept, it had once belonged to my mother when she was little. Every year he would carefully take it out of the nice wooden box where he kept it and let me place it on the top of the tree. Somehow it made me feel that she and my little brother were with us in spirit," the raccoon said, and then his ears went flat when he added. "The star was lost when I was evicted after he died."

Nick looked over at Jake, the raccoon was sadly staring at the cue ball. "That is pretty much what my mom and I would do too," the fox finally said. "We would have a big dinner and watch movies and then get up before dawn for the sunrise service. After the services were over, we would then go back home for a breakfast of ice cream and cereal sundaes before we opened our presents. We had a cheap, scraggly looking artificial tree which we stored in one of the closets and my grandparent's old ornaments to decorate it with. Come to think of it, she still uses the same tree."

"Now we all go to Mister Big's home for his huge Winter's Eve feast, spend the night there, get up the next morning for the sunrise service at Saint Bernard's Cathedral, and then come home for breakfast and presents," Jake sighed out.

"I did that a few times," Nick replied. "Well, before the rug incident at least."

"What did you do when you were living with Finnick?" Jake asked as he watched the fox sink his last ball into a nearby pocket.

"Drank heavy, cussed a lot, and watched porn," Nick teased.

"Sure fox...seriously?"

"No, we usually went to a late-night party at one of the back ally bars."

"Where you drank heavy, cussed a lot, and listened to jazz music."

"Of course we did, we are foxes after all. What did you use to do?"

"I did the same thing with Meredith and the other ahhh...working girls over on River Street, they were the closest thing to a family that I had back then," the raccoon answered and then he got quiet again while he looked out of the window. "I remember the first year after my father died, I was broke and living in a flophouse. There was no feast…no party…no presents…no family...nothing!" Jake continued almost in a whisper. "I was so lonely, hungry, and discouraged. The holidays are supposed to be a festive time, but for some, they are just a sad reminder of what they are missing in life."

Nick didn't say anything as he watched while his best friend wiped a tear from his cheek.

"It's not hard to imagine some kit going to bed on the Winter's Eve without anything to eat and then awaking on the Winter's Solstice morning without a gift under the tree or even having a tree." the raccoon softly continued.

The fox walked up to the raccoon and put a paw onto his best friend's shoulder as they both stood there looking out the window at the lights of the town and the city beyond.

"Hey, Nick?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Are you working tomorrow morning?"

"Nope!"

"Do you want to come with me and the boys to the store?"

"Sure, are you shopping for anything special?" the fox softly asked.

"How about we fill up a Toys for Tots bin or two," the raccoon answered.

"That sounds like a plan".


The bringing of candles to the graves of loved ones is a Finnish custom. The Christmas pudding is a British tradition.

You can read more about Mister Big's traditional seven-course Winter's Eve Feast in Zootopia: A Raccoon's Redemption (Rated M), Chapter 31.