Chapter #4: Christmas Present
When Tortimer woke up, he found himself lying in his bed. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and sat there, rubbing his forehead. "Oh man, what a dream," he mumbled. "I need to git more sleep." Suddenly he got up and sniffed the air. "Is somethin' cookin'?" He grabbed a candle and walked down the stairs and into his formal dining room. A gorgeous sight met his eyes.
The table was filled with food of all kinds—chicken, fruit, turkey, beef, sausage, and just about any food you could imagine. At the far end, in the seat of honor, sat a purple walrus wearing green clothes and a crown of leaves and berries (what's that called again?). The room shone brightly, but the only light seemed to come from the walrus, the torch he held, and Tortimer's tiny candle. Upon seeing his guest, the merry walrus spoke.
"Come in, Tortimer! I've been waiting for you! I am the Ghost of Christmas Present! I will now show you what I have to share!" The Ghost took his hand and led him out the door of the mansion into the cold night.
As they walked through the forest of Holiday, Tortimer then asked, "Spirit, where are we goin'?"
The walrus only chuckled and said, "You'll see."
They came to a tiny wooden shop that, Tortimer commented, seriously needed remodeling. Then he recognized it. "Hold on, isn't this the ol' shop that ran out of business a year and a half ago? I thought it was demolished."
"No, it was not destroyed," answered the Ghost. "Instead it has become the home of its owner, your clerk at the town hall."
"Nook! This is his place!" The mayor rushed to the nearest window and peeked inside.
The inside of the former Nook's Cranny was like the one-room house humans lived in; it was a bedroom, a living room, and a dining room all at the same time. Four cots lay in one corner, and one wall was lined with pantries and even a lovely kitchen. Two moth-eaten ranch couches sat next to a tape deck in another corner. In the middle of it all was a picnic table, lined with cracked silverware for four.
Tom Nook himself was standing at the kitchen, preparing a measly Christmas Eve feast for the family. Young Tommy Nook was also helping. Then a door opened, and a female raccoon wearing a raggedy blue coat trudged in. She gently led in another raccoon boy dressed in exactly the same attire as Tommy, but he walked on a crutch and one leg was in a crude iron frame.
"We're home, Daddy!" cried the tiny coon.
Tom halted his cooking so he could bend down and embrace his son in a bear…err, scratch that…raccoon hug. "How was your day at the Museum, Tiny Timmy?" he asked, using the nicknamethe boywas affectionately called by.
Timmy grinned and replied eagerly, "Blathers showed me the fossil collection and named them all, and I got to look through his sister's telescope and see the constellations! Brewster even gave me a free cup of coffee!"
Mrs. Nook smiled and said, "Why don't you take your brother with you next time?" Tommy, who had been watching his twin jealously, perked up.
"Did you bring the goose, hon?" asked Tom.
His wife nodded and showed him a bag. "I'll put it right into the oven," she said. "You keep going with the other food."
In about half an hour, all the food was ready, and the raccoon family sat at their humble table. After saying grace, Mrs. Nook stood up and cut pieces of the cooked goose for each coon. The meal went on with merry talk and plenty of laughter at jokes Tiny Timmy told (try saying "Tiny Timmy's tales tickled their tummies" five times fast.) Once every single bit of food was eaten, they gathered around the radio and listened to the news. According to the weatherman, there would be heavy snowfall that night.
Tom groaned. "It will be hard to go to work tomorrow."
The rest of the family turned to him in dismay. "You're going to work on Christmas, Daddy!" exclaimed Tiny Timmy.
"Sorry, son, but Mayor Tortimer wants me to catch up on my paperwork."
"I still don't understand why you have to work for that Scrooge," said Mrs. Nook with folded arms.
"I need to keep food on the table, right?"
No one said another word for a few minutes, and then Tom told the boys to go to bed. Their parents stayed up a little while longer to talk, with only a small candle for light.
"What did the doctor say about Timmy?" Tom asked his wife worriedly.
She sighed and shook her head. "His condition isn't improving one bit," she replied. "The only way that leg will heal and be of use is if we get that operation."
"But it costs 200,000 Bells! There's no way I could earn that much in even a year!"
"That's why I keep saying you need to find a better job that pays well. That mayor 'forgets' to pay you almost every time."
"I wish I could, darling, but…there's simply no other job for me. I don't have enough to start my business again. We will just have to settle with what we have right now." Tom blew the candle out, and the two went to sleep.
Tortimer and the Ghost walked away from the little home in silence for a while, and then the tortoise asked, "Spirit, why is the little boy's leg hurt? Last time I saw 'im he was happy and healthy!"
"He is happy now, but he is not healthy," replied the Ghost. "A year ago he was injured when he fell out of a tree the wrong way. His leg was broken badly, and he narrowly missed paralysis. Now the only way for him to return to his normal state is if he receives an operation to fix the leg, but it is, as you heard, very expensive."
"Tell me, Spirit, will the boy be able to live without the fix?"
The ghostly walrus stopped, closed his eyes, and said, "I see a vacant spot at the family's table, and an old cot not used, with an ownerless crutch lying on the sheets. If the family remains poor in this household and they do not pay for the operation, the child will not survive through the spring."
For the first time in many years, Tortimer found himself feeling sympathy for someone besides himself.
Suddenly the Ghost began to fade. "My time is up. It is almost two 'o clock. Farewell, Tortimer, and heed my lesson!"
The town hall's clock struck two, and the Ghost vanished.