Mele Kalikimaka (Part 2)

- Special thanks to the lovely Achos-Laazov for all her help with the Hanukkah scenes, beta reading those and toddler dialogue.

- I've never celebrated a single holiday in my life. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Let me know how I did!

DECEMBER 21ST

No one actually did blood sacrifices anymore.

(Well, aside from the deep-sea dwellers, the followers of the old gods, who lived their entire lives in the deepest parts of the abyss and never once saw daylight.)

Usually Forte just went out of his way to find a fight to pick on the solstice, because any excuse was a good excuse.

After consulting with Saloma, the interpreter who worked at the mernavi hospital, and the Hikari twin's parents Haruka and Yuuichiro (who he'd developed a good rapport with, which was growing into friendship), Dr. Cossack had put together his own little 'Alvistide' feast. Although they couldn't attend— they were busy hosting their own party— Haruka had generously prepared some extra traditional holiday meals and delivered them to him the day before.

Since most of the other mernavi he knew were likewise spending time with their own friends and family, most of the turnout were fellow humans, several who were confused and thought this was an oddly-themed Christmas party. At the last minute, Forte mentioned some 'other people' were coming, and Mikhail just rolled with it. He had no clue who Mrs. Urakawa was, or what connection she had to Forte, but she brought her son Mamoru and sister Tamako.

He was delighted that Gateman actually came. The navi was a great help in the past. Dr. Cossack had never really been able to make it up to him, and he'd declined other invitations (like to the thing for the kid's talent show they'd done last summer).

"This is nice," Gateman said. "Very thoughtful of you." Then he'd given him a look of quiet amusement. "Next time, I would suggest including libations."

"Libations?"

"Yes. The true meaning of the Alvis Feast is drinking. Drinking and revenge."

"I'm sorry, 'revenge'?"

Hours later, Dr. Cossack was stunned when the elusive and mysterious Serenade arrived, along with a friend named Yamatoman. Forte would spend much of the afternoon talking quietly with them while glaring at Yamatoman or poor Mamoru… who Dr. Cossack was able to piece together was somehow related to Serenade (much like Forte was related to Mikhail himself).

Serenade never even considered trying to celebrate winter solstice with the Urakawas. When Forte 'accidentally' let slip something about Dr. Cossack's plans, they'd been thrilled— and mentally tail-slapping themself over the fact that they hadn't thought of it first.

Although they weren't crazy about being on land for very long periods, Serenade was always happy to attend any and every event that Kimie invited them to. The love of family and friends outweighed the discomfort of the dry air and the difficulty getting around. Yamatoman used a ride service back to the sea, but Serenade went home with their family.

"We should get you a wheelchair too," Mamoru said with a playful grin, as he watched them crawl up the driveway and awkwardly clamber into the back of his mom's SUV. Tamako gave them a hand, leaning back as a counter-balance.

"Watch out, I might just 'borrow' yours," Serenade replied with a laugh.

Their home was not as well equipped for visiting navi as Dr. Cossack's was, but Kimie was an old hand at this. She had spray bottles of premixed saline solution and jugs of seawater stashed in the pantry. A mernavi could theoretically spend a day or two on land without causing any real harm, but it started getting uncomfortable after only a couple hours. Serenade sat on two layered towels and poured water into their vents as needed, and didn't even have to ask— their adopted 'daughter' periodically sprayed them down so their frame stayed damp.

Of course, Serenade kept up with their family by electronic messages, but face-to-face communication was so much better. After conversing late into the night, and watching a couple episodes of some kids' cartoon that Mamoru was excited to share, Kimie reluctantly shut things down. "C'mon, kiddo, it's way past your bedtime."

"Mooom," he said, protesting.

"It's after eleven. I let you stay up because Serenade's here, but you're going to be such a grouch tomorrow." This wasn't exactly true, Mamoru was a good kid and might get a little fussy from a lack of sleep, but nothing too terrible. He was, however, very ill and needed the rest.

He grumbled a little more— he was still wound up from the party and excitement of having his 'cousin' Serenade there— but headed off to brush his teeth.

"I'll run you back," Tamako said. "When's your thing?"

"Eleven nineteen."

Her face fell. "Oh, no! We won't make it."

Serenade smiled and placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

"It's okay. I'd rather be here with my family. The lights will be there next year."

That night Dr. Cossack took a small boat out. He wasn't especially fond of late night diving, but he was willing to make an exception here. Likewise, the spot Forte had picked was too close to the surface, not nearly deep enough for this observance. He didn't mention it, but knew it was for his sake.

Disk-shaped lights, on a timer and programmed to set to specific locations for a certain grid effect, and then to automatically collect themselves afterwards, were released. (Why couldn't humans come up with self-cleaning junk like this?) There was a meaning behind the specific pattern and number of lights, but Forte's explanation had been confusing and Mikhail would do his own research later. At exactly 11:19pm they lit up the surrounding ocean, scaring away bewildered fish.

Light in the ocean at the height of darkness in the sky.

While the results may have been the same, the intent was the opposite of human's mid-winter holidays (which were universally to ward off the darkness and encourage the return of sunlight and spring). The act was reciprocal, bringing symmetry and balance.

Haruka had told him that normally prayers were given or songs were sung, but if Forte did anything like that he was too embarrassed to do so out loud.

After about fifteen minutes the disks returned, and Forte packed up and escorted Dr. Cossack back to the boat. There they saw fireworks in the distance, even further out from the island. For a moment Dr. Cossack was captivated by the sight— even more stunning than the underwater display— then gave Forte a confused look.

"A part of the celebrations?"

Forte made a sound of disgust. "It's that demented Sharkman and his pet human. I heard they have a relationship against nature."

Dr. Cossack raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

"They do this every year and they're doing it all wrong. The whole point is that it's dark up here, and light in the water! Idiots. That land-walker must be too scared to dive at night." Then he looked at him and smiled. "Unlike you."

"Well, I'm just happy I could be here."

"…Thank you. This was the best Alvistide I've ever had."

As much as Forte obviously loved his father, it was still rare to get such open verbal gratitude from him. Dr. Cossack smiled warmly and blinked back sentimental tears. "You're quite welcome."

There was nothing scandalous about Masa and Sharkman's relationship, they were just very good friends. (Even if it had been something more, they were consenting adults of intelligent, sentient species.)

It was Sharkman's idea, and it was at xir insistence, that they did fireworks over the ocean instead of a proper underwater lighting ceremony. Xe wasn't about to risk Masa's life for something as inconsequential as a holiday tradition, and xe wasn't as cocky or reckless as Forte was.

Joining xir human friend in the boat, the two of them held hands and watched flashes of white, yellow, and red burst in the sky, the colorful reflection glittering and dancing on the gently rippling ocean surface.

DECEMBER 22ND

It was little surprise when Mick trundled in with still damp swim trunks, towel draped around his shoulders, skin coated in sand.

"Tutu!"

"Oh, kid, you're tracking in sand…" Sighing, Dr. Goodall pulled her grandson into a bear hug and stood on her tip-toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "When'd you get so tall!?" She asked the same question every time she saw him. It wasn't fair, these kids grew like weeds. Before long his little sister and baby brother would be taller than her, too, because… well, frankly, who wasn't?

Before he could answer, she started steering him in the direction of the bathroom.

"Get a shower and get dressed. Go on sea squirt, hup, hup."

Her daughter-in-law appeared moments later, infant in one arm, cooler in the other.

"Lemme give you a hand there, Leilani."

"Thanks." With one hand now free, she reached down to give her a hug. "Good to see you, Joy."

A mischievous grin crept across her face. "It's not kalua pork, is it?"

Leilani grimaced in embarrassment.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Nope."

The rest of the family arrived in spurts. Her sister Lorraine, with husband in tow, one of the nephews, his wife and kids, and some of their friends. Her daughter— recently divorced— and granddaughter— not-so-recently divorced— and great granddaughter. That kid put the 'terrible' in 'terrible two's', and Joy loved it. Excitement! Noise! Havoc! Dr. Cain from work, who never missed the opportunity to crash a holiday party. Her youngest son, who'd hadn't settled down, (but had a kid back on the mainland who none of them had ever met, much to Joy's chagrin), along with the latest girlfriend. Leilani's parents, brother, and her sister's two youngest kids.

Perpetually late, her oldest son Jeff was, as always, the last to arrive.

Dr. Goodall saw all of them often, and babysat whenever she was able, but it was always wonderful to have a full house like this. Over the din and excitement, Jeff began rounding everyone up.

"Dad. Dad. Dad." Mick pinched his father's sleeve between his fingers, tugging at his shirt. "Can I do it?"

Jeff gave him a questioning look. "Do you remember how the blessings go?"

He nodded, although there was an unmistakable hesitation. He was going to flub this a little.

"No," said Hannah. Mick's younger sister threw her arms around his neck and dropped her weight, in a desperate bid to take her brother down. "I want to!"

"Hmmmmm." Jeff stroked his chin, pretending to be lost in thought. "How about this? We'll go from oldest to youngest. Tomorrow you can light the menorah at home, which means," he leaned over, whispering conspiratorially, "you get two candles instead of one."

She liked this idea. Grinning, Hannah stuck the tip of her tongue between the gap of her missing front teeth. "And then Baby Dee can do 'em the, the night after!"

"Er, maybe." No, absolutely not, but 'maybe' went over better. "Mommy and I will think about it." Hopefully in three days Hannah would have forgotten.

After everyone settled down, Jeff handed Mick the lighter. Momentarily distracted, he flicked it on and off, because it didn't matter how many times he'd used it before— he was twelve and this was the power of fire in his hands. What twelve year old could resist playing with fire? Not this one, that was for sure. Jeff gently elbowed him.

He lit the shamash and then began stumbling through the blessings.

His Hebrew was atrocious, but Joy couldn't complain… hers wasn't much better. Still, he would've been better off sticking with English. Leilani was silently mouthing the lines, as if she could project them into his mind.

Using the shamash to light the first candle, Mick managed to get through the prayer, visibly relieved when the rest of the family began singing and he could quietly drift into the chorus of voices.

Afterwards Joy and Lorraine headed into the kitchen, frying up latkes in a wok, and heating up the saimin noodles that her daughter-in-law had brought. Green onions, kamaboko, and kimchi swirled around in the broth, a cultural fusion befitting the diverse family that was gathered.

"You should come with us to—" Lorraine started. Jeff stiffened and gave her a slight panicked look.

She waved dismissively. "Eh. You know I only did that crap for Marty's sake."

"Language, please!"

"'Crap' ain't a cuss word," she muttered under her breath.

As conversation and laughter drifted over dinner, Dr. Goodall found herself watching the candles as they flickered and burned, the soft glow of their light reflecting the love and warmth of a crowded home.

DECEMBER 23RD

"Mele Kalikimaka," Miyu said, holding out a small box.

"It's a couple days early," Sal replied, grinning as she set down the squirming Ren. The toddler made a bee-line for the cat food bowl. Handing the box over to her wife, Miyu went to grab Ren before he could stuff a fistful of kibble into his mouth.

"No! No Mommy!" he cried as she pried the cat food out of his hand. "No! Nooooo!"

Opening the gift, Sal couldn't help but laugh. An orchid pseudo-bulb, and knowing Miyu, it could only be one thing. "Let me guess. Monnierara Millennium Magic 'Witchcraft'?"

"Yep!"

"How? How did you manage to get this exported from the mainland?"

"I had some help from across the pond," Miyu replied cryptically.

"Oh?"

Giving Ren a quick kiss on the forehead, even as he tried to shove his way out of her arms, she approached Sal. "Your dad hit me up on FriendFace."

Sal looked like she'd seen a ghost, dropping the box— pseudo-bulb and all— onto the floor. After an uneasy pause, she knelt down to pick it up. "I…"

"They saw the pictures of our little terror. It's amazing how a grandkid can change their tune."

Staring at the bulb, Sal slowly turned it over in her hands.

"I…"

"Listen. They, um, they wanted to come over. For Christmas. They already got the tickets, they just need— I told them not to bother unless— unless you were okay with it."

She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to cry. Damn it, she wasn't going to cry.

"Moooooommy I want down! Lemme go!"

Using her free arm, Miyu pulled Sal into an embrace. She buried her face in Miyu's shoulder, and by some miracle, didn't cry. After a few unsteady, shuddering breaths, she looked up.

Flailing, Ren managed to accidentally clock her in the side of the head.

She couldn't help it, she burst into laughter.

"Think they'd babysit for a couple days?"

"They're your parents, you tell me."

"…Yeah. Yeah, it's okay."

Sal wrapped her arms around both Miyu and Ren, and laughed again. A family Christmas, not just the three of them, but with both sets of parents? She couldn't ask for a better gift.

But the Monnierara Millennium Magic 'Witchcraft' wasn't too shabby either.

DECEMBER 25TH

Meiru gently ran her fingers over the plastic needles on the artificial tree, the branch shaking slightly under her touch. Tiny, delicate lights blinked, red and green and white, buried within the green needles and silver tinsel and rich velvet red and gold ribbons. More than anything, she loved the little lights. She and her mother had strung them in the windows, on the stair railing (both indoors and out), across the bushes that flanked their front door. Mom had even given her some extra-tiny fairy lights to hang in her bedroom window, and they shone through the curtains.

It was 73° outside. She wished it was snowing. She wished she could sled and make a snowman and have a snowball fight with her friends and that it got cold enough for ugly sweaters— all the things movies had told her were quintessential to the real Christmas experience. She wished that weather could shut down the school for a day and it didn't mean they needed to be afraid of a massive hurricane wrecking their house.

She wished Gran Gran was still around, for just one more Christmas. Just one more.

This year's haul was okay. A lot of clothes she didn't really like, that was pretty standard. A new P.E.T., which was awesome, it had way more features and faster internet… except now she had to buy another water-proof case. Maybe she could use both, the new one at school and home, the old one while she was at the beach or the pier. Some sticker packets and a sticker book— she'd lost interest in collecting stickers when she was eight— and some cool toys and glittery bath bombs.

"Come on in for breakfast, sweetie," her dad called from the kitchen.

Meiru sat down with her family and served herself heaping portions of eggs, spam, and rice, along with plenty of papaya and banana. She ate quietly and listened to her parents and aunts and uncles' conversation, her attention drifting in and out as her mind focused on other things.

"Can I go to my friend's house?"

"It's Christmas—" Dad started.

"Help me clean up the table," said Mom. "Then you can go."

Meiru cleared the dishes and washed the plates for good measure, then grabbed her backpack and headed out the door.

Two things Meiru learned that day.

First of all: Enzan's house wasn't nearly as close as she thought it was, and that bike ride was exhausting. Her legs were simultaneously burning and felt like jello.

Second of all: his house was huge. Like, huge huge. It was crazy. She craned her neck to take it all in, and then shook her head. What did his dad do again? Something with technology, that's all she could remember. Sheesh, who even needed this much room? It was just the Enzan and his dad, right?

The doorbell was a buzzer with a camera and a tiny screen. Some staff member stared at her critically over the video feed. "Can I help you, miss?"

"I'd like to speak to Enzan. I'm one of his classmates. Meiru. Thank you, er, sir."

Sir, right? What was the protocol?

"Please wait."

It felt like she stood out there forever, and eventually her legs were so tired that she sat down on the stairs. Of course, the moment she sat, there was the sound of footsteps and the 'clunk' of the lock being opened, and Meiru scrambled to her feet.

"Hello…"

Enzan looked confused. She hadn't called or anything, and honestly, they didn't really do much together on their own. Usually he only saw her at school, or when they were with the rest of their friends. Plus, it wasn't like she'd called ahead or they'd had any plans.

"Hi! Enzan. I, um…" Meiru slid her backpack off and swung it around, quickly unzipping it and digging around inside. "I know you don't celebrate, but I got ya something…"

Grinning, she held out the present.

"Oh." Hesitantly he took it, blinking in confusion. "I… did not get anything for you."

"Don't worry about it! This was a surprise."

He smiled somewhat nervously. "Thank you, Meiru."

"Well? Aren't you going to open it?"

Then he wilted a little, not expecting that, either. He carefully picked at the tape and peeled the edges of the wrapping, so as not to tear it. Once he got one side open, he was able to slide the box out, and examined it.

"I asked my cousin. He's into gaming and stuff, too. I told him you like to build your own terminals, and he said that was the best graphics card you can get…"

It was, at least for the budget Meiru was working with. It wasn't as good as the one he already had. But… Enzan realized that this was a fairly expensive gift for Meiru, one that she'd very thoughtfully chosen, knowing it was a surprise, expecting nothing in return.

"Thank you. Thank you so very much. This is very kind of you." He was rambling, bowing out of habit, then corrected himself and gingerly gave her a very timid, loose hug.

"You're welcome. Merry Christmas. Er— I mean—"

"It's okay. You too— ah, merry Christmas to you also."

Still grinning, she nodded and pulled the backpack over her shoulders, then picked her bike up off of the ground.

"Oh, wait. I can get the chauffeur to give you a ride back."

"But my bike…"

"Not a problem, it will fit in the car." He gestured for her to follow, and then had her wait in the foyer.

If the outside of the Ijuuin's mansion was intimidating, the inside was even worse. She stood there, swaying slightly and shuffling her feet, feeling so, so out of place. Eventually Enzan returned with the chauffeur, Mr. Kawena. She'd met him a few times, he was a nice guy.

"Meiru!" He held out his fist and she gave him a fist-bump. Mr. Kawena's casualness instantly helped her feel a little more relaxed.

Enzan offered another quick bow. "Thank you, again, Meiru."

"You're welcome, again, Enzan."

Afterwards, he went up to his room, clutching the graphics card box. Completely emotionally overwhelmed, he fought back tears, and failing that, sat on the edge of his bed with his head buried in his hands. Once he'd pulled himself together, Enzan sent Blues a quick electronic message and waited for the chauffeur to return.

Blues was already waiting outside the yacht by the time he got there.

"What's the rush?"

"I— I need to—" Enzan stammered slightly. "I need to install a new graphics card in my terminal. I wanted to do it in this one, because it's my favorite."

"Okay…" He picked up the card and looked it over. "Er, Enzan. This one is less advanced than—"

"Meiru gave it to me as a gift. It was a surprise." He hesitated for a second, not sure if Blues understood. "Normally, for a classmate, one would give something… small and inexpensive. A token gift. This was… this was very thoughtful of her."

The mernavi tilted his head to the side. "It's because of your father, isn't it?"

"Yes, I believe so."

He quickly wiped away tears from the corner of his eye.

His father, who gave him everything he'd ever asked for, plus a very generous allowance, and never once a spontaneous, thoughtful, surprise gift. Enzan was a pragmatic child, he knew that his father loved him.

The man just… didn't know how to.

Blues took the terminal case from him and handed back the card. Enzan reached in and gently pulled the old graphics card out, then installed the new one. As he replaced the case and the screws, he couldn't help but smile.

On her windowsill were more gifts, ones she'd give to her mernavi friends the next time she saw them. Probably on Friday or Saturday. Meiru had put the most effort into Netto's gift. After consulting with Roll, she'd found a titanium key fob and a chain— titanium didn't rust in saltwater— and made a necklace out of it, with little charms to represent each of their friends. This year she hadn't put as much thought into Roll's present as she normally did, but figured she would understand. Then she'd also picked up neat little gadgets for Rock, and Blues, and even Forte (despite the fact that all he deserved was a lump of coal).

Although it stayed warm year around on the island, the days were shorter this time of year. It was a little after six and already dark, and the tiny lights glimmered against the dark glass.

DECEMBER 27TH

She had missed the third and fourth days.

Dr. Goodall sat alone, but wasn't lonely. With no thought given to dinner, she poured herself another glass, wandered into the living room, took a seat and kicked her feet up on the coffee table. Saturday night she would go to Lorraine's and Sunday to Jeff and Leilani's, so this was the last day 'celebrating' Hanukkah on her own.

"Sorry, love." Pausing to take a sip, she focused for a moment on the notes of plum and blackberry. "I forgot to light those candles before sundown." He would've given her an ear full, but then a sigh of exasperation and followed it up with a kiss, and maybe a playful smack on the caboose.

…No, he just would've taken care of everything, gently reminding her not to work late and to start preparing dinner early. Marty had always been the spiritual one. Joy just went through the motions.

"Mick's got to be at least six feet tall. That boy's growing like a tree." This was a gross exaggeration, he wasn't even a full five feet yet. "He's almost a man. Of course, you know that. You're gonna miss out on a helluva 'beach' mitzvah this year."

She'd set the framed photo on the coffee table, and was torn between laying it face-down or picking it up. Joy took another sip while contemplating the options, then reached out and grabbed it.

"Hannah lost her second baby tooth. She's sickeningly adorable, if I do say so myself."

She sat there and talked to him about how all of their children were doing. Their youngest son's girlfriend, their daughter's newborn baby. About the grandkid's grades and report cards, how Lorraine's biopsy results came back clean, that their neighbor Ms. Pelekai had broken her ankle trying to get a frisbee off the roof. At some point— about halfway through that second glass of wine— Joy drifted into the topic of work.

"Oh, and you remember that little punk from the hospital, Forte?" Spoken with the utmost affection. "The one who bit all my techs? Ah, I guess that's been a couple years ago now…" She chuckled. "Well, his guardian Dr. Cossack decided to throw a thing for mernavi's Alvistide celebration. Of course I went! Dr. Cain, too. Really he just did a sort of dinner party thing, but in all my years, I never thought I'd see another human try to get involved in that—"

Joy shook her head slowly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know about Mr. Masa's… thing… whatever he's got going on. Heh. Then, you know, Dr. Cain was here last Sunday, and Lorraine had the nerve to ask if we were dating? I mean, my rules are iron-clad. Never date a coworker, never work with family." She finished the glass. "And anyway, I doubt his husband would be too happy about that."

Quietly singing her terrible little song about moray eels, she began to drift off to sleep.

In the window, the lights burned out one by one.