Mainstream X-S

A Tale Of Turkey

Darqstar




Sikudhani ran into the lab, holding an envelope high above her head. "Daddy, Daddy!" she cried out, running over to where Hank sat, "Daddy, you've got mail!"

Hank swiveled the chair around to face his four year old daughter smiling. "Are you a post office approved letter carrier?" he asked, trying to sound serious.

She looked at him, head tipped to one side as she attempted to puzzled through his statement. "I don' know," she finally admitted. "But I've got a letter for you!"

He scooped her up so she was sitting in his lap, taking the envelope from her. "Indeed you do," he murmured, studying the address in the upper left hand corner.

"It's from Gran'ma an' Gran'pa!" Siku informed him. "Open it up!"

He opened the letter at her request and pulled out a thick bundle of paper. His mother wrote him about once a week, not only to say hello, but to tell him all the news of West Virginia. Curling one arm around his daughter, he opened up the papers in one hand and started reading:

Dear Son,
Seems like I finally found a spare minute to sit down and write you a letter.

"No, Daddy, no!" Siku squirmed in his lap, shaking her head. "You gotta read it out loud!"

"Oh I do, do I?" Hank questioned, looking down at her. "And who says so?"

"I do," Siku declared. "I can' read Gran'ma's writing. It's all wavy!"

"That 'wavy' is actually called cursive writing," Hank informed her.

"Gran'ma curses when she writes?" Sikudhani asked, her eyes shinning with delight. Although the residents of the mansion tried to keep her tender ears from being exposed to inappropriate language, mistakes happened and occasionally a juicy, forbidden word was uttered in her presence She knew better than to say them herself and she knew adults really shouldn't either, even thought they did. In the world of the 'age challenged', any adult that did what they really shouldn't, was a delight. It was always nice to see the Gods occasionally had feet of clay.

"No." Hank chuckled, tousling her hair. "Cursive writing is handwriting. When all the letters are joined together. It has nothing to do with foul language. Your grandmother would never curse." At least not in a letter, he added in his thoughts. I can remember a few times when a damn-it escaped her lips. Mostly when confronted with mischief I'd gotten myself into.

"Oh," Sikudhani nodded, "Cursive," she repeated and grinned. "You worded me Daddy. Now read the letter."

"All right," Hank agreed and began to read the letter.

It was typical of his mother's letters. Warm, chatty and filled with bits of news from Edna McCoy's perspective on life. Henry's mother had a sharp wit and quick mind that seemed to flow on paper easier than in face to face speech. There were times when Hank urged her to submit samples of her writing to the local paper, but she always waved the idea away. "I like to write letters to you, because I want to. I'd hate to have to write something on command."

"Where does she talk about me?" Siku asked, impatient to get to the most important part of the letter, at least to her.

"She doesn't," Hank said, riffling through the papers. His expression deadly serious, except for the faint sparkle in his eyes.

"She doesn't?" Sikudhani's expression turned to one of dismay. Her grandmother never forgot to mention her in the letters.

Hank smiled, unable to keep fooling his daughter, even if she looked adorable when she was disappointed. "Of course not Sunshine. Your grandmother could never forget you. Here you are, towards the end." Clearing his throat he started reading out loud.

"So, before I let you go, you be sure to give my granddaughter a great big hug from her grandma and another one from her grandpa-"

"You owe me two hugs then," Siku reminded him. Hugs were very important.

"I certainly do," Hank agreed, as he continued reading the letter, to himself now.

Speaking of our granddaughter, when are your father and I finally going to get to meet her? I have the pictures you've sent all over the house, and I proudly show them to everyone who crosses the threshold, but it isn't quite the same. Thanksgiving is coming. Is there any chance you might be able to come down for a few days and bring Sikudhani with you?

"Daddy, out-loud," Siku said, sounding slightly exasperated.

"Uh huh," Hank murmured absentmindedly. Why haven't I taken her down there? he asked himself. She's been a part of my life for four years, my mother is right. She has the right to meet her grandparents and see the house her father grew up in.

He put the letter onto the desk and scooped up his daughter, turning her to face him and holding her up with his arms outstretched. "Sunshine, how would you like to go away for Thanksgiving and meet your grandparents face to face?"

"Really?" Siku squealed in delight. "Will they give me all the hugs they've been sendin' me?"

"They certainly will," Hank assured her, "and many many more. So, can I take that big grin on your face and that special glitter in those beautiful sapphire eyes of yours to mean you like the idea?"

"Yes!" Sikudhani nodded, just to confirm the word. "I wanna go to Gran'ma an' Gran'pa!"

Hank considered the options and decided to drive down. It would have been easier and faster to fly, but he hesitated to take Sikudhani on a plane. It wasn't that he worried about her behavior, it was more how other people would behave towards her. Even well-meaning people who should have known better, had a tendency to stare at a child with long blue hair on her head and short blue hair covering her body. In the open, if this happened, Hank could and did try to get her away from the open gaping and rude comments, but in a plane that wasn't possible. He briefly considered using an image inducer for the both of them, and dismissed it. Sikudhani was too young to understand that sometimes it was best not to let the world know how different they were. To change her appearance to the eye, might give the child incorrect signals that there was something unacceptable about her. Besides, Siku wasn't a bad travel companion. Like most children, the motion of a moving car put her in a mellow state most of the time, and if not sleeping was actually fairly quiet and agreeable.

They left the next day, Saturday morning. Although he could have driven straight through, only stopping for breaks and gasoline, Hank decided to take two days, stop in a hotel for a night, when they were about three hours from the house. This meant that they would both get a good nights sleep and have a chance to shower and look refreshed before arriving at his parent's house.

"Do Gran'ma an' Gran'pa know we're coming?" Sikudhani asked Sunday morning. They'd left the hotel after having breakfast in the coffee shop that morning.

Hank shook his head, glancing at her through the rear-view mirror. For safeties sake, Siku always traveled in the back seat, in her car seat. "I thought I would surprise them."

"Surprises are fun," Siku declared. She looked out the window for a few minutes then looked back at her father. "Music?" she inquired.

"All right," Hank agreed. "What would you like to hear?"

The child thought for a moment, trying to assess what music would sound best today. "Beethoven - No, Beethoven is energy." She paused, frowning, then grinned. "Mahler!" she declared.

I will be so sorry the day she decides that top forty radio is the end-all and be-all, Hank thought. "Anything in particular?"

"Uhm..." She thought again. "Fifth Symphony, please." She requested.

Hank found the appropriate CD in the case and drove one handedly while he slid the silver disc into the CD player and pressed the "play" button. Music filled the car, rich and encompassing, but not so loud as to discourage talking. Hank had a very good sound system and on drives like this it was a lifesaver.

Siku closed her eyes, letting the music surround her for a few moments, then opened her eyes. "Daddy?"

"Yes Sunshine?"

"Word me."

Now it was Hank's turn to think. "Uhm.. immature."

"Imager?"

"No, Im-Ma-Ture," Hank spoke slower this time, over emphasizing the word.

"Im-MA-Ture," Sikudhani repeated slowly. "Right?"

"Right on the money," Hank confirmed.

"Immature, immature, immature," the child repeated. "What's it mean?"

"Two meanings," Hank informed her. "The first is 'not fully grown or developed.' The second is 'suggesting a lack of maturity.' As in, someone who does not act their proper age."

"Oh." Siku nodded, brows furrowing in deep concentration. "I am immature," she declared.

"That's for meaning one," Hank agreed. "What about number two?"

She thought again and grinned. "Unca Bobby an' Unca Remy can be immature."

"Very good!" Hank agreed. "But there is nothing wrong with acting immature sometimes, if it's all in good fun."

"Like when Unca Remy an' Unca Bobby started the water balloon fight this summer?" Sikudhani asked.

"Exactly."

Siku nodded. "It's a good word Daddy, thank you."

"You're welcome."

She fell into silence for several miles, listening to the music and thinking. Hank knew she was chewing over her new word, trying to think of times she could use it. She loves to learn, he thought proudly. In that respect she definitely is my daughter.

They passed many miles with nothing more than occasional comments back and forth about the scenery around them. Siku seemed perfectly contented and relaxed. It wasn't until Hank announced that they would be there in fifteen minutes or so that she started to look anxious.

"Daddy, are Gran'ma an' Gran'pa going to like me?" she asked nervously.

"You are the most precious little girl in the world and your grandmother and grandfather are people of impeccable taste. They will have no choice but to fall victim of your incredible charm and become slaves to your every whim."

"Huh?" She loved the way her daddy talked, the words flowing effortlessly from his lips, but sometimes, as beautiful as they were, she didn't quite understand the meaning.

"Sunshine, they will love you," Hank assured her, deciding to keep it simple. While Sikudhani was very open and affectionate of all the residents in the mansion, strangers made her a little nervous. Hank wanted her to realize these people weren't really strangers, but family, as much as Jean, Warren, Logan and everyone else. I should have brought her down before, he thought. I should have brought her down when she was a baby and several other times, so she'd be used to them. My mistake.

"I hope so," Sikudhani said quietly. It was the last word she said on that subject, or any other, until they arrived.

Hank drove the car down the long, dirt road that lead to the house. He pulled in front of the fence. "This is it, Sunshine," he called out to her. "We're here."

She kept quiet, just looking at the neat, yellow farm house with it's green trim and gold door, quietly taking it all in. Although her daddy had described it to her as a "rather large, old house," it didn't look very big to her. Probably because her eyes were used to seeing Xavier's mansion as home. This house could have easily fitted into one of the mansion wings.

More important than the size, Sikudhani tried to assess the feelings the structure gave her. Some places looked warm and inviting, others looked cold, as though they wanted you to stay far away. So far, this house leaned more into the warm than the cold. A very good sign.

Hank got out of the car, stretching his legs. He walked around to the back and opened the door, helping his daughter with the multiple belts on her car seat. When she was finally freed, she climbed out of the car and stood next to him, reaching up to take his hand. Although she'd looked forward to this, now that the moment was close at hand, she felt sort-of... afraid.

The front door opened and a handsome woman with grey hair came running out. "Hank, Hank, is that you?" she called out.

Sikudhani darted behind her father, peering out from his legs. Hank smiled. "Who else could it be mother? Unless, of course, you have another handsome, blue furry, son you neglected to tell me about."

"Nope, you're the only one," She put her arms around him hugging him tightly. "It's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you," Hank admitted, hugging her back. "You're looking good. Where is father?"

"Oh, he's coming," Edna McCoy informed him, drawing away from the embrace to look at him. "So, I hope you brought my granddaughter along."

"I did," Hank said, twisting his neck to look at Siku, who was still hiding behind him. "Siku, would you like to meet your grandmother?"

Sikudhani nodded and timidly stuck her head out. "Hello," she said shyly, studying Edna McCoy's face carefully.

Edna broke into an even bigger grin. "Why, look at you!" she exclaimed. "Your pictures don't do you justice, Sikudhani McCoy, you are twice as cute as I thought you were!" She bent over, so she was at eye level with her granddaughter and held her arms open. "Do you have a hug for your grandmother?"

Sikudhani hesitated only a second, then darted out from behind her father and leapt into her grandmother's arms, hugging her. "You're... you're as nice as your letters!" she exclaimed happily.

"I like to think so." Edna hugged her back. "Oh, it's good to finally be able to see you face to face." She looked at Hank. "And you, Henry Philip McCoy oughta be ashamed of yourself, waiting so long to bring her..." She stopped when she saw the sheepish look on her son's face. "Aw, how can I stay mad at someone who's given me the cutest granddaughter in the US of A. I do hope you're both planning to stay for Thanksgiving."

"We are," Hank confirmed. He noticed his father coming out of the house and walking towards them, grinning broadly. "That is, if you want us to."

"For someone who's suppose to be so smart, you sure say some dumb things," his father said.

Hank looked at Norton McCoy and smiled. "It's good to see you father."

"It's good to see you too, son. Real good." He wrapped his arms around his son, drawing him into a bear hug. "It's been too darned long since we've seen you."

"I agree," Hank said, returning the embrace. "And I'm sorry."

"Aw, I suppose you'll find a way to make it up to us." Norton drew away from the embrace and looked over at Sikudhani who was standing next to her grandmother, looking at him expectantly. He turned in her direction and dropped down onto one knee, so he could look into her eyes.

"Well hey there, Peanut," he said, his voice cheerful. "You got a hug for your grandpa?"

"Yeah," Siku said, happily running over and throwing her arms around him. As she hugged him, she felt like a great weight was lifting for her. She hadn't really been worried about meeting her grandparents, or at least she thought she hadn't, but seeing the friendliness, the warmth and love these people had for her, made feel... "Light!" she exclaimed. "Happiness makes you feel light!"

There was a moment of silence as the three adults chewed over her statement, then Edna laughed. "I know exactly what you mean Siku!" she assured her. "When you're really happy, you feel like you could walk on a cloud." She looked at Hank. "She's got a way with words, just like her daddy."

Sikudhani beamed. Nothing was better than being compared to her dad.

"Well, what are we all standing around out here for?" Edna exclaimed. "Let's go into the house. Have you two eaten anything today?" She took Sikudhani's hand, and started leading her towards the house. "Norton, don't just stand there like a fool, help your son with his bags."

It didn't take them long for Sikudhani and Hank to get settled into the house. The first thing Siku wanted to do was to take off the dress she'd worn and get into some jeans. "I wanna see the farm!" she told her father. "I wanna see the barn, I wanna see everything!"

"I'll be happy to take you on a little tour," Norton said, coming into Hank's old room, which Sikudhani would be using, with her suitcase.

"Would you Gran'pa?" Siku looked at him, her eyes shinning brightly. "I'd love that!"

"Sure thing honey." He put the suitcase down and tousled her hair. "You get into your play clothes and meet me downstairs."

"Thank you Gran'pa!" Siku said.

"You're welcome." He looked at Hank. "Raising her to be polite, I see," he commented, grinning.

"I am doing my best," Hank said solemnly. "If I can just get the rest of the X-Men to follow along."

When Norton left, Siku wriggled out of her dress as Hank went through her suitcase, finding a pair of jeans and an Animaniacs sweatshirt for her to wear. "I'm so glad we came!" she declared, tossing the dress to the floor and grabbing her jeans. "I'm going to have so much fun!"

"Mmm," Hank murmured, picking the dress up off the floor and folding it neatly. "I'm glad you're so happy Sunshine, but I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't throw your clothes on the ground."

"I'm sorry," Siku pulled on the jeans and wriggled her way into the sweatshirt. "Yacko, Wacko, and DOT!" she exclaimed, as she pulled it over her head. "This is my favorite, thanks!"

"You're welcome. Do you need help with your sneakers?"

She shook her head. "No, I can do it myself!"

"She's absolutely adorable, Hank." Edna looked out the window, watching as her husband and her granddaughter headed out towards the barn, hand in hand. Norton was saying something to her, and Sikudhani looked totally enthralled.

"Thank you," Hank said, helping himself to a cup of coffee from the pot and sat down at the kitchen table. "Although I can't take all of the credit. Sikudhani has a lot of uncles and aunts who feel they are duty-bound to participate in raising her."

Edna nodded turning away from the window. "She seems like a very happy, confident child. That only comes when a child knows she's loved."

"Oh Siku is loved, that is certain," Hank confirmed. "How could anyone not love her?"

"Beats me," Edna helped herself to coffee and sat down at the table, looking across at her son. "It's so good to see you again." She reached out, squeezing his arm. "Phone calls and letters are nice, but they just don't take the place of talking face to face. So, tell me what's been going on in your life?"

Hank smiled. "Where do I begin?" he asked.

"How about with how you got Sikudhani," she suggested. "You wrote us and told us you adopted her, but you never gave us the details of how the two of you met."

Hank shook his head. "It's a long story and it begins with a young man named Remy LeBeau, who was out for a night on the town..."

"Do you have any horses?" Sikudhani asked her grandfather as they made their way to the barn.

Norton McCoy shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Peanut. This farm is mostly for growing crops, rather than raising livestock." He saw the look of disappointment on his granddaughter's face. "We do have a few animals though. Your grandmother has some chickens which she raises for eggs, and we've got a pig."

"Can I see them?" Sikudhani asked.

"You sure can," Norton said. "We've got a litter of barn kittens too, maybe their mama will let you play with em'."

"Really?" the child's eyes lit up even brighter. "That would be..." she paused, trying to think of the best word for how she felt. This feeling needed a very special word. "Splendid!" she proclaimed.

Norton grinned. "You like cats?"

Sikudhani nodded. "I like all animals!"

Just outside the barn were the chickens, foraging in the dirt. "We keep em' in a chicken run with a proper house mostly," Norton told her. "But on a nice day, your grandmother likes to let them scratch in the yard for awhile. Do you want to feed them?"

"Can I?" Siku asked eagerly.

"Sure." Norton said. He went into the barn and brought out a bucket of chicken feed. "This is how you do it," he instructed, taking out a handful and scattering it on the ground.

Siku nodded and reached into the bucket for a handful of feed, which she scattered on the ground, trying to imitate her grandfather's motions. "Like this?"

"Hey, you've got the hang of it all ready!" Norton declared, handing the bucket to her.

Sikudhani beamed, reaching in the bucket for another handful. As she scattered the feed on the ground, the chickens came closer, pecking up the bits of food. "They aren't afraid of me at all!" she told her grandfather.

"Nope, these are very tame chickens," Norton informed her. "Very smart chickens too. They know a special little girl when they see one."

Siku was just about to answer, when she saw another bird coming from around the corner of the barn. This one looked much different than the chickens pecking near her feet, the head free of feathers, and the body covered with feathers colored cream to white. As it came closer, Siku realized it was almost as tall as her and her eyes widened in shock. "That's the biggest chicken in the world!"

Norton laughed. "That's no chicken, Peanut. That's a turkey."

"Wow!" Siku exhaled sharply, as she stared at the huge bird. Unlike the chickens, this turkey didn't seem timid at all, but looked at her, like he knew how big he was and didn't see the need to run from anyone or anything.

"Sikudhani, I'd like you to meet Tom Turkey. The guest of honor at this Thursday's Thanksgiving dinner."

"Wow!" Siku repeated. She looked from Tom to her grandfather. "He's really here for Thanksgiving?"

Norton nodded. "He sure is. It wouldn't be Thanksgiving without Tom at the table, would it?"

Sikudhani's eyes were large, round saucers of blue. She knew that anyone who was related to her daddy had to be pretty special, but she didn't expect to find out her grandparents were so wonderful that they would allow a big bird like this to come into the house and eat with them on an important day like Thanksgiving. She wondered if he'd sit at the table with everyone else, or if he'd stay on the floor. She supposed if he stood on a chair, he'd be at the right level to eat. Should I ask? she wondered, then dismissed that thought. It would be much better to be surprised. For now it was just enough to picture this magnificent, large bird being treated like any other member of the family. She dropped the feed bucket and ran over to her grandfather, and threw her arms around his legs, hugging him. "You're the neatest Gran'pa in the world!" she declared.

Although Norton was puzzled by this spontaneous burst of affection, he chuckled, and scooped her up, hugging her back. "Well, I'm glad you think so, Peanut, because I think you're pretty special too."

Over the next few days, Sikudhani adjusted to life on the McCoy farm as if she'd been born there. Edna McCoy remarked at times that it almost seemed like she was really two children, because she could be everywhere at once. Sikudhani didn't quite believe that to be true, but she certainly tried. She loved being in the kitchen helping her grandmother and learning all sorts of things, like how to make cookies and how to operate the wonderful, interesting kitchen her daddy had designed. She also loved to trail after her grandfather as he worked around the farm.

"My head is being all stuffed with new things!" she told her father proudly on Tuesday morning. Norton and Edna were outside for various reason, while Hank finished his breakfast coffee and Siku her orange juice. "Gran'ma's teachin' me t'cook an' gather eggs. Gran'pa's teachin' me how to feed the pig an' take care of the chickens, an how to stack wood!"

Hank scooped her up. "I'm glad you're having a good time Sunshine," he told her.

"Oh, I am," she re-assured him. "I've got kittens to play with, such cute little kittens too. An' I think Tom likes me."

"Who's Tom?" Hank asked, head tipping to one side.

"Tom the turkey," Sikudhani informed him with a tone that implied Hank really ought to know better. "He's the guest of honor at the Thanksgiving dinner!"

"Oh yes, how could I forget about Tom," Hank said, nodding. "It certainly wouldn't be a good Thanksgiving without a turkey at the table."

"I think that's so neat!" Sikudhani squealed, gulping down the last of her juice and sliding off her chair. "Can I go outside now?" she asked. "It's probably time to feed Tom and I don't want to miss that!"

"Since you finished your juice you may," Hank agreed.

"Thanks!" She took her empty glass to the sink, then ran outside to play. Hank watched her smiling in amusement. The Thanksgiving turkey had been a tradition in his family for as long as he could remember. He never felt any particular closeness to one of them, probably because he knew their good life wouldn't last long. Life on a farm had a tendency to put a different perspective on animals, they either produced something, like eggs, or they were for food. Hank frowned as a thought started worming it's way into his head.

I hope she understands that turkey's not just coming to dinner, but is dinner.

"Gran'ma whatcha doing?" Siku asked, coming into the kitchen.

Edna looked up from the dough she was kneading. It was late Wednesday afternoon and she was busy doing what she could to prepare for Wednesday's dinner. "I'm making rolls for tomorrow. Would you like to help?"

Sikudhani nodded eagerly. "Yeah, can I?"

"You certainly can honey," Edna said. "Why don't you hop on up one of these chairs."

Siku stood on top of a chair in order to be on the right level. "What do I do?" she asked.

"Well, you just kind of mash it around to make sure it's mixed real good," Edna explained. "The more you knead it, the fluffier the biscuits will be."

"Need it?" the child asked, tipping her head to one side. "How will needing something make it fluffier?"

Edna laughed. "It's a different kind of need. This is spelled with a k, k-n-e-a-d. It means to mix and fold different things together to make one thing. Like this dough."

"Knead, Knead, Knead," Siku repeated. "I am going to knead the stuff for the biscuits." She looked up at her grandmother, grinning from ear-to-ear. "You worded me Gran'ma."

"Worded?" Edna repeated, moving the bowl over to her.

"Yeah," Siku said, plunging her hands into the mixture. "It's a game. If someone teaches me a word I didn't know and tells me the meaning, then they worded me. Sometimes I ask my daddy to word me. That means I want him to teach me a new word. On the way down here, he taught me the word... immature." She grinned as she worked the dough with her hands. "This is fun!"

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. Do you think you can handle it without me looking over your shoulder while I get the sweet potato casserole started?"

"Yeah, I think I can handle it."

"Good for you!" Edna walked over to the sink and washed off her hands. "You're as big a help to me in the kitchen as your daddy used to be. Speaking of your daddy, where is he?"

"Upstairs working on his laptop," Siku informed her. "This is fun. It's like play-doh, but not as bright."

"Figures," Edna snorted. "Even on vacation, your daddy can't just relax."

"Daddy finds working relaxing," Sikudhani informed her. "He likes it."

"He's like your grandfather in that respect," Edna said, as she dried her hands on a clean dishtowel. "Norton always enjoyed his work, even when he worked for the power plant. Speaking of your grandfather, there he goes," she pointed out the window.

Siku leaped off the chair and ran over to the sink, climbing up on the counter as nimble as a cat. "He's heading to the barn!" She reached out and tapped on the window, leaving fingerprints of flour and bread dough. "Gran'pa! Gran'pa!"

Norton was headed to the barn, an axe in his hand. He stopped, hearing the tapping at the window and turned. When he saw his wife and granddaughter waving at him through the window, he waved back.

"He sees us!" Siku exclaimed. They waved at each other again, then Norton continued towards the barn. Noticing what he was holding, she looked at her grandmother with a puzzled expression. "Why does he have the axe?" she asked. "The wood pile is over that way!"

"Oh, I imagine he's going take care of the turkey," Edna said casually.

"With an axe?" Siku asked, her brows furrowing.

"Of course," Edna said, looking at her granddaughter. "How else are we going to have old Tom for dinner?"

Sikudhani's eyes widened in horror as the realization dawned on her that Tom Turkey was indeed the guest of honor, but not in the way she thought. "He-he's gonna kill him!" she gasped, her voice trembling. "He's gonna kill him so we can eat him tomorrow!"

Edna looked at Siku, not quite sure how she should handle this situation. "Honey, didn't you realize that's what would happen?" she asked.

"No!" Siku cried, leaping off the chair. "No, he can't!" She ran for the door, twisting the knob with both hands and running outside.

"Oh dear," Edna exclaimed, as she watcher her tearing across the lawn. She walked into the living room, to the end of the stairwell.

"Hank!" she shouted up the stairs, "Hank, you'd better come down. We have a little problem with Siku!"

"Gran'pa Gran'pa!" Sikudhani shouted, chasing across the lawn after him. "Gran'pa stop!"

Norton stopped and turned around puzzled. "Siku, what's wrong?"

She ran over to him, throwing herself at his feet in a flying tackle that knocked the both of them to the ground. The axe went flying out of his hands and skidded across the lawn. "What the-" he exclaimed.

"No Gran'pa no!" Siku cried, still grabbing onto his legs. "You can't do this!"

"Do what?" Norton asked, reaching down and pulling Siku off his legs, twisting to a sitting position. "What in the world has gotten into you, Peanut?"

"You can't do this!" Siku repeated, her eyes bright with tears. "You can't kill Tom, please!"

"But Peanut, that's what he's here for!" Norton said. Hasn't anyone explained to this child that turkeys are raised for food?

"No!" Siku protested. "Tom's my friend, you can't kill him!" The tears rolled down her cheeks and she trembled with fear that she wouldn't be able to stop this soon-to-be murder.

"Siku, we've been raising a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner ever since your father was a boy," Norton tried to explain. "You have to understand, that's the turkey's job is to be dinner."

"It's not a job he wants!" Siku exclaimed.

Before Norton could respond to that statement, Edna and Hank ran over to them. "What's going on?" Hank asked loudly.

"Daddy!" Siku leaped to her feet, running over to her father and flinging herself at him. "Daddy, you have to stop him, Gran'pa's gonna kill Tom!"

"Hank, doesn't this child know that people eat turkeys?" Norton asked, not feeling very amused by this whole scene.

"Well someone gave her the idea that Tom would be the guest of honor and not the main course!" Hank snapped back, scooping up his hysterical daughter.

"Sunshine, please, listen to me," he pleaded. "Stop crying and let me explain."

"Norton, how could you let the child think something like that!" Edna scolded, worried to see her granddaughter so distressed.

"I didn't mean to!" Norton protested. "I thought she knew. I mean, she's had to have eaten turkey before."

Hank ignored his parents, focusing his concern on his daughter. "Siku, please, calm down okay Sunshine? Calm down so we can talk, all right?"

Sikudhani stopped sobbing, but the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. She looked at her father and hiccuped, waiting for him to speak, waiting for him to say the right things that would make this whole situation better. She had faith in him.

"Siku, on a farm, animals always have a purpose. They aren't raised to be pets, they are usually raised for food."

"Gran'ma's chickens aren't for food!" Siku pointed out.

"Ah, but they produce eggs," Hank explained. "Siku, for as long as I can remember, my family has had a turkey which ended up being thanksgiving dinner. That's just the way it is Sunshine."

"Sunshine's" face was definitely "stormy." "It's wrong!" she protested.

"No it isn't," Hank disagreed. "The turkey's purpose is to become food. That's why he's here. C'mon Siku, you've eaten turkey before and you like it."

"It wasn't a turkey I knew! Siku wailed. "It's different!"

By this point, Norton was on his feet again. He walked over to the axe and picked it up.

"Norton, you take one step towards the barn and you're sleeping on the couch!" Edna scolded. "We've got to get this situation straightened out first."

Norton heard the seriousness in his wife's tone and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Sunshine, it really isn't that different," Hank explained. "The turkey's entire purpose for being is to become dinner for tomorrow night."

"The turkey has a name," Siku informed him. "His name is Tom."

"All turkeys are named Tom," Norton pointed out. "At least every turkey we've had."

"How can you eat something with a name?" Siku asked. "Daddy, what if someone thought I was food? Would it be right to eat me?"

"That is hardly a correct comparison," Hank began.

"Is it?" Sikudhani interrupted. "I've got hair all over like some animals people eat. Someone might see me an' think I was just an animal, or you too. Would you want to see me eaten?"

"No, of course not," Hank said, feeling slightly flustered at this whole situation.

"Please Daddy, please." Siku looked into her father's eyes, her own gaze as pleading as her words. "Don't let Gran'pa kill Tom. Maybe that's what he's suppose to be here for, but I've... gotten to know him. I-I just couldn't feel right eating Tom. It would be like... eating Uncle Bobby or Aunt Rogue."

I hope it wouldn't be quite like that, Hank thought. He sighed and looked over at his mother and father. "There is no way in heaven or earth Sikudhani will feel right about having Tom for dinner tomorrow. Are any supermarkets still opened?" he asked quietly. "I'd be more than happy to go pick up another turkey for tomorrow."

Norton looked up at the sky, which was growing dark as night fast approached. "No," he shook his head. "This isn't New York, son, it's West Virginia and it's the night before Thanksgiving. Everyone is home, preparing for tomorrow."

There has to be a solution to this problem, Hank thought. He looked at his mother. "You wouldn't happen to have a turkey in the freezer, would you?"

Edna shook her head. She looked at her granddaughter, who was staring at Hank with wide round eyes, waiting for her beloved Daddy to make everything better. "No, I don't have much meat at all," she admitted, reviewing the contents of her freezer in her mind.

"We can't eat Tom, we just can't," Siku whispered softly, burying her face in her father's shirt.

"I do have some lasagna," Edna remembered. "The last time I made it for your father and I, I made sure to make some extra because it freezes so well. I could use that."

"Lasagna?" Norton protested. "Lasagna for Thanksgiving?" He shook his head, not believing what he was hearing.

"And why not?" Edna shot him a look that suggested if he was smart, he wouldn't protest too much. "We have plenty of it."

"What about the food you've been making all day?" Norton asked, unable to get the idea of having his Thanksgiving dinner sans turkey out of his mind.

"We can still have most of it," Edna said. "I'll just add some garlic and butter to the biscuits so they'll go well with the lasagna."

"I can't picture lasagna and candied sweet potatoes," Norton grumbled.

"Norton McCoy, have a heart," Edna scolded. "Can you really look your granddaughter in the eye and tell her you're going to kill that poor turkey for dinner?"

Norton looked over at his granddaughter, drawing in a deep breath.

"If you can still eat that turkey, you'll have to cook it and eat it by yourself," Edna warned.

Norton studied his granddaughter, looking into her wide blue eyes, noting the way her lower lip trembled as she waited for the verdict. Would Tom live past Thanksgiving or not. He sighed long and loud. "Well, it's going to be the strangest Thanksgiving dinner we've ever eaten." He shook his head. "Lasagna."

Sikudhani's face lit up as she realized her new feathered friend was saved. She wriggled out of her father's arms and ran over to her grandfather, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you Gran'pa!"

"Well, this doesn't look too bad now, does it?" Edna asked, looking around the table, set with her best china and sterling silver.

"You always did set a beautiful table mother," Hank confirmed.

"I'm sorry Edna, but it looks really strange seeing lasagna on the table and not turkey," Norton said, scratching his head.

"Oh, just be quiet and say the blessing," Edna said, with a small wave of her hand and a sparkle in her eyes. She looked over at her granddaughter who was looking around the table with bright hungry eyes. "Shall we join hands?"

The four of them joined hands around the table and closed their eyes as Norton began, "Dear Lord, we bow our heads to thank you on this special day..."

Although Siku knew it was bad luck to open her eyes when someone was praying, she couldn't help but take a quick peek around the table, her eyes only cracked open a tiny bit. This was turning out to be a wonderful Thanksgiving. She was here with her grandparents and her daddy, Tom was alive and well in his pen, and there was plenty of food. Truth be told, she actually liked lasagna better than turkey.

"...and mostly Lord, I would like to give thanks for my son and my granddaughter, and that they could join us for this Thanksgiving."

Siku's attention drew back to the praying as she heard her name mentioned and she smiled, squeezing her grandparent's hands. Grandpa forgives me, she thought. He's not mad anymore that we have to have lasagna instead of turkey. This is the best Thanksgiving in the world!

"Amen." Norton opened his eyes and looked around the table, smiling. "Now, if everyone will pass me their plates, I'll be happy to serve up the lasagna."

Everyone began to pass their plates to the head of the table. Siku looked over at his daddy. "I've got a lot to be thankful for too," she declared. "I'm thankful that I have the best daddy an' grandparents in the whole wide world."

Hank smiled at his daughter, his eyes filled with love. "I'm thankful too, Siku. I'm thankful that I have you."

Siku grinned. "Can I ask one favor though?" She looked from adult to adult. "Next year, can Tom actually come into the house and really be the guest of honor?"

The End


Authors Notes: Thank you to everyone on fanfiction.net who's taken the time to review the X-S stories. 'Tis greatly appreciated. For those who are wondering what order the stories go in, the first story in the X-S series is "Unexpected Arrival."

Soon enough, I hope to be opening up a site dedicated to X-S. When I do, every X-S story and beyond X-S story will be listed in cronological order. Even the ones I didn't write. When the site is opened, I'll post the URL, I promise.

Thanks again.



THE STANDARD DISCLAIMER The X-Men are owned by Marvel comics/Marvel Entertainment group. Sikudhani McCoy, however, is my (darqstar's) creation. This story is intended as a tribute to Marvel and not intended for profit in any way. Marvel Comics and/or Marvel entertainment group has nothing to do with this story and are in no way, shape, or form, responsible for any of the contents. So, if you have a problem with this story, don't go to them, come to me.