Chapter 6 – Solving the Santa Debate
"They're all books, aren't they?" Austin asked as Anakin straightened up from putting his gifts beneath the tree. "The shape of the package gives it away."
"Yes, they're books," he replied. "I don't know how I managed it, but I found a satisfactory gift for everyone on my list in a bookstore." He lowered his voice slightly so the others wouldn't hear him. "I found a fantasy novel called 'Eragon' that Hyrum's oldest son should appreciate, and I thought Liberty would enjoy the astrology book."
"And Opal? I understand she's hard to buy for."
"'The 2005 Writer's Market,'" he replied. "It's a guide for getting published. She can use a little push in that direction."
"Ah." Austin glanced back under the tree, where his own gifts were clustered together. "I didn't have as good of luck. I mean, I hardly know Brigham's family."
"Who's name did you draw?"
"Lydia, Felix, and Liberty." He smiled. "Liberty was easy – almost too easy, actually. I eventually settled for a cookbook and a tie for the others. Not really exciting, I'm afraid."
"They'll know you at least gave it your best shot," Anakin assured him.
"I'd appreciate some help in the kitchen, boys," Mrs. Pratt announced, appearing in the doorway of the living room.
"Aw Mom," whined Felix, making a big production of putting down the box he was wrapping and getting off the couch.
"Don't 'aw Mom' me," she chided. "You're the one who invited the picky eaters over. Cooking Christmas dinner's tough enough without having to account for a vegetarian and a diabetic."
"Just be glad Liz and Boba didn't come," Austin told her. "You'd have to stick to kosher too."
She smiled as her sons slumped out of the room, grumbling in exaggerated tones. "I really don't mind cooking something special for your girlfriend's tastes. I just have to find a way to get the boys to pitch in."
"I'd be happy to help," Liberty volunteered, standing. "It's my vegetarian meal you're cooking, after all."
"I can help as well," Anakin offered.
"Count me in," Austin chimed in.
"Well, I don't think I've had this many helping hands in a long time!" Mrs. Pratt exclaimed. "Let's see, Brigham and Judy can make biscuits, Felix and Hyrum are in charge of a salad… why don't you help me with the squash pie, Liberty? Austin, you can help Jacob with the turkey if you like. Anakin…" She thought a long moment. "Will you help Grandma Alzina get the tables arranged?"
"Certainly."
It was Christmas Eve at last, and the entire household was being put to work readying the house for the big day. Whoever wasn't wrapping gifts was put to work on dinner, and loud clangs, rattles, and shouts of dismay issued from the kitchen at regular intervals. People went charging from room to room carrying casserole dishes or rolls of ribbon, yelling things like "It never fails – we always run out of tape on Christmas Eve!" or "Well, why can't we just have one fork at every place at the table this year?" And to top it off, the kids were constantly underfoot, bursting with excitement and belting out Christmas carols at the top of their lungs. Cody seemed to feed off their energy and had to be reprimanded several times for egging them on.
"Sing along with me, kids!" he encouraged, waving a gravy ladle about like a conductor's baton. "'Grandma got run over by a reindeer, walking home from our house Christmas Eve…'"
"If you want to find out what size shoe your backside takes, Sonny, just sing a few more lines of that!" Alzina screeched.
"Shutting up," he replied meekly.
"For ten seconds, maybe," Brigham murmured.
Anakin just shook his head and went back to setting plates on the table. Adults ate in the dining room; a card table would be set up in the kitchen for the children once the dinner preparations were over. And there was one other noticeable difference between the grown-up table and the kids' table – the dining room table was set with the family's good china and crystal; the kids got plastic dishes and cups.
"Last year the kids had a food war, and someone got to throwing the dishes," Alzina explained to Anakin. "We had to make a Christmas trip to the emergency room so London could get stitches in his chin, poor boy."
"And we've learned our lesson this year, have we?" Anakin said dryly.
She laughed and made the laborious journey around the table, carefully arranging the silverware and napkins to her liking. "It's good to have another mature adult in the house, Mr. Skywalker," she told him. "Especially since I lost my Heber this spring."
"I'm sorry, Alzina," he told her. "I hope he didn't suffer."
"His heart was going for years. But he was a good sport about life all the way to the end. A week before he died he told us all that his one big regret was that he wasn't going to have an opportunity to see 'Revenge of the Sith.'"
Anakin couldn't help a hearty laugh. "What a character! He would have fit right in with Brigham's friends, I'm sure."
"Oh, he and Brigham would talk for hours about those movies!" she reminisced. "We'd practically have to drag them into the kitchen to eat and even then they wouldn't stop talking!" She was silent a moment, staring at a salad fork with a fond expression as if it were a priceless memento. "Of all the grandchildren, I think Brigham took it the hardest when Heber died."
Anakin gave Alzina a gentle hug about the shoulders. "I don't know exactly what your family's religion believes occurs after death, but I feel comfortable assuring you that Heber's in a good place now, and that he still loves you very much."
She smiled. "That's sweet, Mr. Skywalker. And I do believe you're right on the money."
There was a loud crash and a cross expletive from the kitchen, followed by Mrs. Pratt's shocked gasp and Liberty's stern "Shut your filthy mouth, Austin!" Cody launched into an off-key rendition of "Santa Claus is Coming To Town" as if confident that music was the cure for any unpleasant situation. At least his bawling partially drowned out Austin and Liberty's subsequent argument.
"Ah yes, it's the most wonderful time of the year!" Clinton said in an exasperated tone, plunking the salad bowl in the middle of the table. "Darth – sorry – Anakin, do me a favor next and tell my brother-in-law not to invite the weirdo next year."
"Hey, it's not my fault our fearless leader dropped the green bean casserole all over the kitchen floor," Cody protested.
"Yay, he dropped the yucky stuff!" cheered Lexus. "That means we don't have to eat it this year!"
"Don't worry, we've got a really yucky backup vegetable planned just in case something like this happened," Clinton told his daughter. "Canned spinach!"
"Eww!" she shrieked.
The front door opened, and Xizor entered the house, shaking fresh snow from his sleeves.
"So we'll have a white Christmas after all," Ruth noted, giving Xizor a peck on the cheek.
"Two inches already," he told her, returning the kiss. "And no sign of it stopping."
Cody at least had the tact to turn his back on the couple before engaging in an over-the-top retching motion.
"I stopped to get some holos of the Christmas lights on Temple Square," Xizor went on, "but you can't get within a hundred meters of it. Security's been upped considerably tonight."
"What's wrong?" asked Mr. Pratt. "Was there a terrorist threat?"
"I'm not sure," Xizor replied. "Maybe we should turn on the news…"
"No need," Luke announced, striding through the front door with a hard expression on his face. Anakin stared, amazed and considerably worried. What could have made his normally good-natured son so angry?
"I know exactly why there's extra security," Luke went on in a cold voice. "Because I ordered that extra security to be placed."
Dead silence was the reply. Even Cody and the children were quiet.
"Black Sun is responsible for many crimes in this city," Luke explained. "But the worst is yet to come. I've uncovered enough information to suspect that Black Sun has planned an attack on the headquarters of the LDS church and will carry out those plans in the very near future."
Muffled cries and stunned exclamations met his statement.
"They're gonna blow up the temple, Daddy?!" wailed Emma.
"Go wash your hands and get to the table, kids!" Hyrum announced, herding the children in the direction of the bathroom.
"No, no, I wanna hear the rest of it!" Gideon protested. "Let me stay!"
"Stay, stay!" repeated Wendy, though the night's dramatic revelation had gone directly over her head.
"Why do we always have to leave when interesting stuff happens?" grumbled Trapper.
Once the kids were out of earshot, Hyrum turned back to Luke. "You're not serious, are you?"
"I wouldn't joke about something of this magnitude, Hyrum," Luke replied.
"What did we ever do to them anyhow?" demanded Felix. "It's not like our church is big competition for the crime world, is it?"
Anakin kept a careful eye on Xizor's reaction. To his surprise, the man looked as shocked as everyone else. Was he truly a changed man and loyal to the Mormon church? Or was his astonishment faked? If he was still heading Black Sun, he'd have to keep a convincing front, so Anakin couldn't be entirely sure whether his reaction was legitimate or not.
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Austin.
"The only thing we can do," Luke replied. "Preventive maintenance. During flu season, don't you make sure you have your flu vaccinations and take extra sanitary precautions? That's all we can do against Black Sun's sickness – strengthen our defenses and take extra precautions when allowing absolutely anyone near Temple Square."
"I got a better idea," Cody snarled, pointing accusingly at Xizor. "Don't just get the flu shot – find the source of the disease and destroy it! Xizor's the head of this sick little operation! Why don't you arrest him and haul his stinking carcass off our planet?!"
"He's not like that!" Ruth defended. "He's changed! Can't you accept that he's no longer the bad guy?"
"Sorry, princess, but I'm not the one that's too smitten by his charms and pheromones to see straight," he retorted. "If you'd jerk your head down out of the clouds long enough to…"
"Leave my sister out of this!" Brigham ordered, veins standing out on his forehead.
"Enough, you two!" Mrs. Pratt demanded. "It's Christmas Eve. Let's have a little peace in this household."
"Hate to break it to you, lady, but Black Sun operatives don't hold off terrorist attacks on account of national holidays," Cody shot back.
"Oh-ho, you're gonna mouth off to my mom too?" Brigham said angrily.
"I'm not mouthing off!" protested Cody. "I'm just stating some facts! And just because the whole bunch of you are too blinded by the green guy's charms to know the truth if it sat on you…"
There was a sharp thwack and a horrified gasp as Brigham's fist met Cody's nose, cutting off whatever he had to say next.
"Brigham!" exclaimed Anakin.
"Don't… insult… my… family… again," Brigham said in a deadly tone, ignoring Anakin.
"You broke by dose!" Cody squealed, clamping a hand over his wounded face in an effort to stem the bleeding.
"Oh chill, it's not broken," Liberty chided, grabbing a fistful of tissues and going to help him. "It's just a little nosebleed."
Xizor turned to Mr. Pratt. "I'm deeply sorry for all this. I had no idea my presence would cause such friction." He gave a sad little smile. "Perhaps next year I'll be welcome?"
"I can guarantee that," Mr. Pratt replied, glowering at Cody. "Because I don't think someone else is ever going to be invited back."
"He clobbers be and I'b de one dat gets kicked out?" Cody protested, his blocked nose hampering his speech somewhat. "How fair's dat?"
Needless to say, it was a very tense Christmas dinner that evening. Brigham and Cody's relationship had degraded from each of them glaring at the other to each simply ignoring the other's very existence. Ruth had gone straight to her bedroom without even eating, and Opal bolted her dinner as fast as she could before leaving the table, no doubt to find some corner to hide in. Mrs. Pratt tried to start some conversation going, but when her attempts were met with nervous or stony silence she gave up.
"Anakin, dell Brigham do pass de salad," Cody requested.
"Anakin, tell Cody I'll pass the salad when he apologizes for his remarks toward my sister and mom," Brigham replied tartly.
"Austin, kindly inform Brigham and Cody that they are being grossly immature and that if I were them, I'd be absolutely ashamed of my behavior," Anakin replied.
"Everyone kindly field your own remarks at this table," Mr. Pratt demanded.
"This is all my fault," Luke said at last. "I shouldn't have told any of you what I knew. I'm sorry."
"Don't beat yourself up," Hyrum replied. "This isn't your doing. It's the fault of a couple of guys who can't keep their mouths or tempers in check."
Brigham flushed, aware that his brother was blaming him every bit as much as he was blaming Cody.
Anakin began clearing plates off the table, wondering what in the galaxy had gotten into his friends that they were acting so rudely to each other. He hated to think that their arrival here would permanently damage friendships. Yet at the rate things were going, this holiday would likely end in severed ties of some form.
He caught Xizor's eye – and was startled to see a smug look on the Falleen's face. Was Xizor orchestrating the division of Brigham's family? For what purpose? The Pratts were hardly influential people on their homeworld. And even if he loved Ruth as much as he claimed to, why would he be attempting to destroy her family?
Handing the last of the dishes to Lydia, he retreated to the living room to think.
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"G-5," announced Christopher.
"Miss," Lexus replied. "B-2."
"NO!" Christopher screamed. "You sunk my submarine!"
"You two keep it down," hissed Trapper. "If the adults hear us…"
"Too late," moaned Gideon as Xizor opened the door a crack.
"Your parents say to settle down and go to sleep," the handsome alien informed the kids. "Santa Claus won't come if you're still awake."
Gideon snorted. "I keep telling these babies that there's no such thing as Santa."
"Is too!" Emma cried.
"Shut up, Gideon!" Trapper told his friend. "I don't really believe in Santa anymore either, but that doesn't mean the other kids can't believe."
"I think it's lying to tell them things that aren't true," Gideon replied.
"Santa's not gonna come to you for not believing in him," London told him.
"Oh grow up," Gideon retorted. "I stopped believing when I was younger than you."
"He's entitled to his opinion too, young man," Xizor told him.
"Don't tell me you believe that Santa crap," Gideon demanded.
Xizor shrugged. "I know I've met a lot of unusual people in my life. A plump bearded man who wears red and rides in a flying sleigh delivering gifts would not be the most outlandish person I've ever come across."
"Maybe Santa's a Jedi," suggested Emma. "That's how he does all the magic things he can do."
"Even Santa's not fifteen hundred years old," Gideon retorted.
"Maybe he hands the responsibility down whenever he gets too old," London added. "Like the Dread Pirate Roberts in 'Princess Bride.'"
"I still think he's just a big fake!" Gideon declared.
"That's just fine," Xizor told him. "You can believe what you wish. But maybe…" He looked outside before speaking to the children in a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe what you need is proof."
"Proof?" repeated Trapper.
"Yes. Santa Claus comes tonight. Perhaps if you could see him with your own eyes, you would know the truth."
"Sounds good," Gideon replied. "Then I could prove to everyone that there's no such thing as Santa."
"Yay!" Emma cried. "We can see Santa! Wendy, you wanna see Santa Claus?"
"See Santa! See Santa! Wanna see Santa!" she squealed.
"I dunno, guys," Trapper said warily. "We could get in big trouble if the grownups see us…"
"Then we go out the back door where the grownups can't see us," Lexus replied. "It'll just be for a few minutes."
"Are you in or out, Trapper?" demanded Gideon.
He hesitated, then gave a sharp nod. "In."
"Grab your coats," Gideon ordered. "Let's go."
Xizor's satisfied smile was missed by the children in their scramble to grab coats and jackets. "Anakin and your grandmother are in the living room. I'll occupy them while you go."
"Thanks," said Gideon.
The children slipped out, carefully tiptoeing past the living room where Xizor was attempting to bid Anakin and Alzina goodnight and getting a rather cold response. Their slippered feet shuffled across the kitchen floor as Gideon led the way to the door. He eased it open, shivering as a chill wind pushed flakes of snow into the house.
"Man, it's really snowing, isn't it?" Trapper noted.
"It's like a blizzard," London said with a shiver. "Maybe we should blow this off, Gideon…"
"No way," he retorted. "We said we were going to settle the whole Santa Claus debate, and we're gonna do it. C'mon, everyone."
They ducked out.
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Luke was counting out bills to pay the cab driver when a sudden, nameless chill of apprehension seized him. He glanced up sharply, probing with the Force. Whatever had just happened, he needed to be back at the Pratt house – fast.
"Back to the house," he told the driver, throwing open the door and jumping in.
"Look pal, this had better be important," the cabbie replied grouchily. "The roads are getting bad, and I don't want to risk a wreck."
"And this is your last round before going home to your family for Christmas Eve, I understand," Luke replied. "But this is an emergency. Trust me."
He scowled. "Very well. Guess I don't have much choice, do I?"
Crystal flakes of snow pummeled the taxi as it pulled away from the curb and back into the night. Luke watched the crystal blizzard silently, wondering whether Xizor had brought harm upon the Pratts while he was gone. He hoped he wouldn't arrive too late to correct the damage.