That Summer's Day of Giving
I don't own Neopets.
Midsummer on Mystery Island is the worst time of year. Not only is it impossible to move for tourists, but the young pets don't even have school to occupy their time. And then there's the weather. The sun scorches the beaches from early morning until twilight, with never a hint of rain. It's a tourist's paradise, I wrote, one eye idly open to watch for customers.And an utter nuisance to everyone else.
The sand blew onto my notebook as I hovered impatiently over the little bamboo stall. I brushed it away, rubbing my eyes against the sunshine, and continued calling hopefully into the wind.
"Who wants to buy a toy? Come on, come on. I've got music-boxes here, all genuinely home-made, lovely presents for your little brothers and sisters. Bargain prices." My throat was beginning to become sore. I hated minding the shop in this weather.
My fur felt like it was suffocating me. Sighing, I turned to the only customer in sight; a little Aisha who was taking her time over choosing a plastic ring. "Buy something and help my brother's research work. Come on."
Sunset couldn't come soon enough. The tourists clustered on the beach as they always would, pointing at the sky and revelling in the pretty colours; for me, it was just the end of another day. I scooped the remaining toys into my bag, hung up the CLOSED sign over the stall, and headed home.
The back door wasn't locked. I padded into the kitchen, brushing past the curtain that Keela used to keep petpetpets from flying in. "Keela, Michel, I'm home!" I called, feeling the blissful coolness of the shade on my fur.
"Zaza!" My baby Flotsam sister reached up out of her water-cot, waving her fins madly at me. "Zaza home!"
"What's that, Helen? Hazel's home?" Keela hurried into the kitchen, drying her hair with a worn blue towel. "Oh, so you are! Hi, Hazel. Did you make much today?"
"Two thousand Neopoints." I fished the day's takings out of my bag. "It's hardly the treasure of the Black Pawkeet, but it'll buy us dinner." I didn't mention the bag of lollipops I'd bought from the Lenny's stall at the other end of the walk. They were for a special secret of my own. "Where's Michel?"
"He's out. Said he'd be back by bedtime, but he wanted to talk to the archeological researchers. They're in town for a few days."
I could believe that. There was nothing that fascinated Michel more than the ancient civilisations of Neopia. With a secret smile, I remembered my hiding-place under the bedroom floorboards. Lying there was a book: A History of Sakhmet City, wrapped in silver paper with a curled blue ribbon I'd saved up for it two months ago, even though it had been barely summer yet.
Only those who live on Mystery Island's burning sands can really appreciate that summer is overrated, and in any case nothing to celebrate. Some of the islanders like to make a grand party out of the new fruit-growing season, but that's never been for me. For my family, there's always been only one time of year that really matters, and one thing worth saving money for. And though it was still more than five months away, I was already dreaming about it. The Day of Giving.
I hadn't got a present for Keela yet, but Helen's little Poogle Toy was already hidden with the other gifts and ornaments, so clean and new that its colour seemed to shine in the dark. This year was going to be the best Giving Day yet, even counting last year's celebration when Keela had given me my Starry Paintbrush.
As soon as my owner began to make dinner, I ran to my room. Lifting the loose board, I tucked the bag of lollipops into the shadowy gap under the floor. They'd stay cool there, even in this hot weather, with no fear of melting in the harsh sun. I lay down on my bed, my eyes shut, and daydreamed of a month when cool weather outside would be more than just a vain hope.
...------...
"Hazel? Wake up, Hazel. It's time for dinner."
With a sigh, I left my world of snowflakes and baubles and returned to the velvety heat of summer. Keela was shaking me awake. "I made shrimptail with kelp sauce. You like that, don't you?"
The dinner was delicious, but I found it a struggle to eat the hot sauce that covered the shrimptail. Helen ate everything without complaint, splattering her fins and her nose with sauce.
Mystery Island was becoming cooler. Outside, Lightmites danced in the dark, attracted by the glow of our little house. Suddenly, they buzzed away as if startled, and I heard paws crossing the gravel walk.
"Michel!" Keela ran to the door, and moments later, I saw the familiar figure of an Island Acara pad into the kitchen. Jumping out of my seat, I ran over to fetch another plate of shrimptail for my brother.
Michel took a seat absently, as though something was on his mind. He didn't even comment on the shrimptail, one of his favourite dishes. Keela sensed it too, but she waited until he had finished eating before talking to him.
"So how were the archeologists, Michel?"
"Oh, it was brilliant!" His eyes lit up. "They showed me all the artefacts they'd found on their last expedition, and they even had a drawing of what they said was an ancient city on Mystery Island. I could have listened to them forever!"
I smiled. When Michel heard anything about archaeology, he was always as excitable as a little kid.
"And there's something else." Now he was quieter, and the brightness had vanished from his golden eyes. "They say they're leaving to go to Geraptiku in a couple of days… and they asked me to go with them."
"Oh, Michel! That's wonderful!" Keela ran to hug my brother.
"You haven't heard all of it, Keela." He took a deep breath. "The placement would be for ten months. Until next summer."
Next summer? But that meant… I held up one paw. "But of course you'd be coming home for Giving Day, right? You couldn't miss that."
His eyes told me everything I needed to know, even before he said the words. "I don't think that'd be possible, Hazel. We'd be working our hardest to take advantage of the colder weather. I'm sorry."
"Then you're going to tell them No?" I clung desperately to the last strand of hope, but he shook his head.
"Hazel, of course he isn't going to say no." Keela gave me a disapproving glance. "This is the opportunity of a lifetime."
I knew she was telling the truth, but somehow, I couldn't face Michel's happiness any longer. Knocking back my chair, I ran out of the room.
...----...
A few hours ago, I had lain in this room dreaming of how perfect this year's Day of Giving would be. Now, without my brother, I wondered if there'd be a celebration at all.
I took out one of the lollipops I'd bought so happily, and began licking at the sticky sugar. It was little comfort. Throwing myself onto my bed, I gazed through my tears at the stars outside. It was a clear night, and the dark sky was beginning to light up with the constellations I'd so often wished on.
Why not, after all?
I propped myself up against my pillows and stared out into the night, watching for a falling star.
"I wish… I wish I didn't have to lose Giving Day just for Michel…"
I didn't remember closing my eyes, but the next thing I knew, a faint light was shining on my face, pulling me out of my sleep. I rubbed my eyes with my paws, and glanced at the clock beside my bed.
It was 4am, the day before Michel would leave.
And I knew what to do now.
...---...
Keela was still sleeping peacefully when I left, my Snorkle Bank in the satchel that I normally used to carry toys for the shop. I knew what I had in mind, and crossed my claws that I'd be able to get it; fortunately, we didn't live far from the Island Trading Post. Even at this time of the morning, there would be some insomniac Neopian ready to sell what I wanted to buy.
Two hours later, I was back in my Neohome. Keela's apron was hanging in the kitchen cupboard, and I lost no time in getting to work. I like to think I'm not a bad cook when I set my mind to it, and today was certainly one of those days.
Little Helen was the first to wake up. I shushed her with one paw over my lips, and gave her a lollipop to suck. She watched silently as I struggled to pull the wooden stepladder into the front room, then climbed the steps, one by one.
When everything was done, I flopped onto the sofa. The heat was beginning to rise, even so early in the morning, and I was glad I'd got everything finished in the small hours. Now I had only to wait.
Eventually, to my delight, I heard two sets of footsteps on the stairs. One was the distinctive sound of Michel's furry paws; the other was a human's bare feet.
Michel was first into the room. The door was barely open when he stopped still in front of me. "What—" he gasped.
A tall fir tree stood in one corner of the room. Tinsel hung over the doorways, and the walls were covered in Seasons' Greetings cards and Tiki Decorations. A slightly drooping mistletoe wreath brightened up the front door.
"Happy Giving Day, Michel," I yawned.
For a moment, I thought he didn't like it. Then, his face split into an enormous smile. "You did this? You did all of this, Hazel Eyes!"
I grinned back. Michel was the only one who ever called me by my full name, and even then he only did it playfully, or when he was genuinely surprised. "I did more than just this. Would you like a mince pie?"
...---...
Breakfast that day was delicious: mince pies, fresh out of the oven. The spiced fruit juice was chilled to perfection and clinking with ice cubes in Keela's best glass tumblers.
"Look!" Michel suddenly saw what was hanging by the fireplace. "It's my Giving Day stocking, and Helen's too… and they're full of parcels!"
"Oh, yes," I nodded. "Scorchy Claws doesn't come in July, so I thought I'd do his job. After all, what's Giving Day without a few gifts, huh?"
My owner helped the two of them unwrap their presents. Michel's eyes lit up as he saw the book about Sakhmet City, while Helen squeaked in joy and hugged her new Poogle toy as if she would never let it go. There were sweets, plushies, collectable cards, games and books. Even the heat of the morning didn't stop my brother from trying on the woollen pawgloves I'd slipped into his stocking. But there were summer presents, too: straw hats, sun-tan lotion, and hand-woven palm fans bought from the Tiki Tack man.
"C'mon." I pulled Helen away from her new treasures. "We've got to decorate the tree. Keela, will you fetch the baubles?"
It took some time to convince Helen of what I wanted her to do, but eventually she was helping as much as anyone, looping the threads attached to each decoration over the branches of the tree. Keela even found a bundle of candy canes in the cupboard. Just as we thought we had finished, a gust of wind rattled through the house, blowing sand all over the tree and tossing a few of the ornaments onto the rug. Michel laughed like a child.
The rest of that day was heaven. We had turkey omelette and a crisp island salad for dinner, with the Seasonal Pudding I had made to follow. Blowing hot air from the oven into the matching heat outside, my owner and I baked biscuits and hung them on ribbons; Michel and Helen sang carols, so loudly and so far off-key that a surprised Korbat looked in to see if we were all right.
By the end of the afternoon, my sister had learnt the tune—if not the words, which I assumed should not consist of "gurgle, gurgle, flea flea flea"—to "Fyora Rest You Merry, Cybunnies." The wilting wreath on the door was no more, but Keela, with her eye for all things beautiful, had woven a new one from fresh green leaves and enormous pink flowers.
I even got an unexpected present of my own—a beautiful pink scarf with an Aisha motif embroidered on it. Michel had bought it a few months ago. I made up my mind that I would wear it, however hot the weather became.
As evening came, Michel and I sat together, nibbling iced biscuits and drinking iced cranberry juice. Rocking Helen's tank with one foot, Keela played her violin, letting the melody of one of her favourite carols, The Silver Bells on Giving Day, drift over the beach and startle the tourists who stood watching the darkening sky.
"Michel?"
"Huh?" He looked away from the peaceful sunset.
"This has been the best Giving Day I've ever had," I whispered.
He simply nodded. "I know, Hazel Eyes. And it's all thanks to you."
...---...
That night, exhausted by my perfect Day of Giving, I slept as soundly as Helen in her cot. I dreamt of silver snowflakes, settling on our island house one by one. Michel and I played in them, no longer worried, growing Neopets, but a Kougra cub and an Acara kit, innocent and carefree. On and on they fell, never stopping, until my fur was as white as the snow.
I woke to the sound of a howling gale.
Sitting up in bed, I stared out of the window in amazement. Outside, the world was completely white. There must have been a blizzard overnight. A few stray flakes of snow swirled past my face, catching on my muzzle and dampening my scarf, turning it a deeper shade of pink.
It was my final present. A snowfall in July, scattering winter's magic in the middle of a perfect summer, glittering in the morning light.
I knew what it meant.
Giving Day was over.
It was time to say goodbye.
Inspired by the blizzard in the Month of Swimming, Year 8. Michel, Keela, Helen and Hazel Eyes are fictional characters.