Snow White Lies
'Tis winter somewhere in Lylat
And a heroic father will find
The challenges with traditions
Amongst the readers of mind
This is a little story about little white lies, pure as snow, and the joys of children and holidays. Now with correct number of Cerinians.
My thanks to Elarix for beta-reading.
Fox McCloud woke up from a forceful kick in the tail.
Even though the twins had just recently learned to walk, their legs already packed a decent punch. The girls had been unusually restless, waking each other up, and in the end they'd ended up in their parents' bed as so many times before. That had of course spoiled the chance of an intimate moment with Krystal. It was usually either that or pure exhaustion, but he loved his children and wife dearly.
He decided that whoever had invented the pacifier was evil. The past year-and-a-half they'd been getting up several times a night, looking for the darn things in cots and on the floor, before plugging them back into their grizzling daughters' muzzles. Luckily Marcus had never taken to it. The first few months after his birth had been hard, but then he started sleeping through the night. Bliss!
Speaking of the devil, the bedroom door was ajar and a shadow appeared, then a little blue head with a swirl of whipped cream on top poked around the door frame. Fox looked at the alarm clock-not even 6 am-and was about to tell the kit to go back to sleep again, when he remembered that it was Yule Day morning. Who could blame the little boy? A child awaiting presents was an unstoppable force.
Fox put a finger to his lips to tell Marcus to be quiet, and the five year old nodded in reply. Ever so slowly the older vulpine pulled himself out of the bed, picked up his dressing gown from the floor, where it had been thrown after fetching the girls, and put it on. He followed his son along the corridor, down the stairs and into the large living room. The kit bounced over to the bay window, followed by his sleepy father, who shuffled his slippers across the floor.
They both froze in silent amazement. A sizeable helping of snow had fallen overnight, covering cars and trees, softening their contours. The clouds had blown away, and the white powder glistened in the moonlight, like a sparkling blanket covering their garden, the street, their neighbours' houses, and the fields beyond.
Fox turned away from the window and waved a hand in front of a panel. The lights in the Yule tree turned from the dim night setting into bright colours, the light reflecting off all the tinsel and baubles large and small.
Marcus went straight to the fireplace, where three loaded stockings hung from the mantle piece.
"May I...?" he asked, already with his little paws around his stocking.
"Of course, son!"
In a blink of an eye, the kit had pulled the stocking down and spread its contents on the floor, eagerly checking each and every little present. While Marcus was busy unwrapping the gifts, Fox picked up two decent logs from a stack, and put them in the fireplace. With a touch on a panel, he turned it on, the automatic system checking the size and humidity of the wood, before igniting the pilot lights. Fox stoked the fire as it took hold, not because it was needed, but because he just liked doing so. Soon the logs crackled and popped from the flames, and the warmth radiated into the room. He loved an open fire.
"Look, a golden Cat's Paw Swooshie!" exclaimed Marcus with a wide grin and held up a little star-fighter model in his paw. Fox was amazed how the cheap collectables could be such a hoot for kids. But then Marcus's brows furrowed. "Daddy, can you tell me the story of Saint Claws again?"
Fox laid down on the soft rug in front of the yule tree and made himself as comfortable as he could.
"Saint Claws is a very nice and very old polar bear from the Arctos System. He's over a hundred years old. He likes children very much-good children-and thinks that good behaviour should be rewarded, so throughout the whole year he and his helper wolves make presents and sweets. Then come the Yuletide, they load them all into his starship..."
"That must be a huge ship," Marcus interrupted.
"It's bigger on the inside than the outside, spatial displacement technology or something. Then he dons his red suit and red hat..."
"Why are they red?"
"Umm... so you can see him in the snow I guess. Anyway, on the night before Yule Day morning, he travels all over the galaxy and leaves presents for children, but only the ones on his nice list. If you end up on his naughty list, you get nothing."
"Did he fill up my stocking?"
"Yep"
"While we were sleeping?"
"Yep"
"But how did he know we were sleeping?"
"Err... infrared cameras probably. He can see through the walls if you're in your bed."
"But how did he get into our house?"
"Through the chimney," said Fox and pointed to the fireplace.
"But what about houses that don't have a chimney, and skyscrapers?"
"Good point," Fox scratched his neck. "I guess he teleports. He has all sorts of fancy tech."
"Does he visit every house?"
"Only where there are good children."
"On every planet?"
"Yep"
"In the whole galaxy?"
"Yep"
"Wow!" Marcus was quiet in amazed contemplation for a while. "But how does he have time to visit so many homes on so many planets? He must have a ship that's FF, FL, ... what is it?"
"FTL," corrected Fox. "Faster Than Light, yes, I'm sure he has."
"But why are you making that up, daddy?"
"I'm not making anything up." Fox frowned. "Saint Claws is real. Why would you say that?"
"Because you're not saying what you're thinking, daddy."
A shiver ran down Fox's spine. He had expected that this moment might come, but now, on Yule Day morning of all times, it was still a mighty shock. "Can you read my thoughts, Marcus?"
"Sometimes."
"How long have you been able to do that?"
"Dunno," said the kit and shrugged. "Can't you, daddy?"
"No, very few people can."
"Why not?"
A simple question so hard to answer. Fox found it slightly intimidating, having a son that could read his mind, and potentially used that against him. "Telepathy is a very special gift. I only know one other person who has it."
"Who?"
A person who decided that it was the perfect time to make an entrance, probably because she too had sensed her husband's confused thoughts. A person whose beauty, deceiving strength and delicate ways Fox never grew tired of. The blue vixen with the tired smile and ruffled hair sat down on the floor with them.
"Mummy!" exclaimed Marcus and crawled up into Krystal's lap. He snuggled into her soft and fluffy light grey dressing gown for a minute, until some yet to be unwrapped presents became too enticing. Soon he held a snow globe in his paws, shaking it and watching the whiteness swirl around within it, his eyes open wide in wonder. His brows furrowed, but then his face cracked open in a wide smile, and he turned to his mother, who smiled back at him.
"All right," said Fox. "Would you mind letting me in on your little conversation?"
Marcus giggled and Krystal had a little chuckle too, before she turned to Marcus with a serious look on her face. "Reading minds is something that only Cerinians can do, and there are only the four of us left; you, me, and your sisters. It can be very useful."
Fox could second that, recalling the number of times her extrasensory abilities had saved his and Star Fox's tails.
"At the same time it's not fair, since other people cannot read our minds," Krystal continued. "They might not like it, or even be scared of it. People often keep secrets, and many are bad, while just a few can be harmless. Say if you and daddy bought me a nice present, would you like me to read your minds and figure out before you gave it to me?"
The kit shook his head. "Is Saint Claws one of those secrets?"
"Yes, because you think it's fun and you have been looking forward to Yuletide, haven't you?"
Marcus nodded and smiled from ear to ear, as he tore the wrapping paper from another gift.
"So now that you know about telepathy and Saint Claws," said Krystal. "Do you think you can keep our little secret from your sisters and your friends?"
"Okay, I think so."
"There is a grain of truth in the story about Saint Claws though. Let me tell you a legend from Cerinia." His eyes lit up at the mention of the name. She pulled him close and started telling the story with a soft voice and her melodious accent. "Centuries ago a baby was born on the winter solstice, not a polar bear, but a fox with fur as white as snow. The fox grew up to be very wise, and had a message for everyone, a message about love and compassion, that we should care for and share with each other. But no one is perfect. We can all do bad things, sometimes even if we don't mean it. But if we admit our wrongs, and try to do better, we can and should be forgiven.
"So to encourage children to be good, the snow fox told all Cerinian parents in the Cerinian way..." She pointed with a finger to her temple. "...that they should give their children gifts at the end of the year by winter solstice, and thus spread joy in the coldest and darkest time of the year. I think that message spread from Cerinia, throughout the galaxy, and it might just have turned into the legend of Saint Claws. They both have a white pelt, and Yuletide is around the winter solstice after all."
Fox couldn't tell whether his wife was telling an actual legend, or just winging it, but it didn't matter. Marcus seemed to swallow it whole, listening with a gaping muzzle and not taking his eyes off his mother for a moment. Then again, her psionic powers were so much stronger and well trained. Luckily she didn't use them against Fox ... often.
They were interrupted by yips and yelps coming from the master bedroom.
"It sounds like the twins are awake." Fox got to his feet. "I might as well get them. I don't think they're going to go back to sleep anyway."
"Well, it's a time for being together anyway, and for sharing and giving." Krystal watched her husband walk off, a loving smile on her face.
He found one of the twins fighting with a pillow on the bed, while he had to pull the other out from under the bed, where she had gone exploring. He picked them up and carried them, one bundle of red-furred mischief on each arm. One was happily vocalising and dropped its dummy on the floor. Fox couldn't be bothered picking it up. The other was kicking and crying, but stopped immediately at the sight of the Yule tree in the living room, little paws desperately reaching for the tantalising decorations. Then the family sat down on the floor to enjoy the morning together, and to enjoy one thing that is true.
The spirit of Christmas!