III. Little Drummer Boy
Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Have a wonderful New Year's! 2008!!!
They've been walking for at least half an hour, the night growing frostier by the minute. Toby wonders if the chill is seeping through Manny's red robe to her thong, the image of the infamous piece of clothing warming him up, then feeling guilty about it since she, like a couple other girls he's interested in, is only a friend. He's kept his head down the entire time, trying not to meet the wind headfirst. Only when they reach the next crosswalk does he finally notice where they've arrived.
"We're at the Manning house again?" cries Toby.
"A revised, older version of the Manning house," corrects J.T.
His best friend, as has been the case every time tonight, is right. The Jeremiah house is as he remembered, before Craig made the alterations. Angie's Barbie ice skates are drying on the stoop. A lawnmower is sitting in a pile of snow. The sole difference is booming music coming from behind the closed garage door, badly played, out of synch. Craig, pajamas glinting in the faint light streaming through the door's window, cringes.
"Who on earth...or what on earth is that?" demands Craig.
"You," says Manny, simply. "Catchy saying, please?"
"Their ties make me want to strangle them," supplies Craig.
"Bad fashion is always funny," says Manny. "No comments on your p.j.s."
"Like yours were any better," scoffs Craig. "These are hand-made, Italian..."
"Look who got all metrosexual?" interjects Manny, silencing Craig.
J.T. laughs as Manny lifts her arm, raising the garage door to expose not only Craig, but the original members of Downtown Sasquatch: Spinner, in a wool, green hat with a white pom-pom on top; Marco, in a blazer and warm, orange scarf; Jimmy, standing stark with his bass and in a bomber jacket; Craig, leather jacket and a Death Cab sweatshirt underneath.
"Can we get some heat?" begs Marco over the noise. "Joey doesn't heat this place?"
"It's busted," explains fifteen-year old Craig. "Like the garage door, apparently."
"As usual at this point in his life, Craig was lying," narrates J.T. "Joey reunited with Caitlin a couple days ago, leaving Angie with his mother, and Craig alone in their house. The truth? Craig had no idea how to turn the heat on. So they suffered in their artistic pursuits, and anyone walking by and hearing this was suffering as well."
Manny pushes Craig into the garage, the garage door closing, J.T. and Toby ducking in before it went completely down.
"So numb I can't drum!" complains Spinner, setting his sticks on his stool.
"What?" cries Craig. "You guys are a bunch of pansies! A lack of heat gets the blood pumping...come on!"
"Look," says Jimmy, patiently. "Just because you're angry about what happened with you and Ash..."
"And him and Manny," inserts Spinner.
"Don't take it out on us," finishes Jimmy.
Craig separates from ghost Manny, stares dismally at his former self.
"Probably Craig's biggest regret in high school, the infamous love triangle. While dating Ashley Kerwin, Craig two-timed her with one Manny Santos, who half the guys in Degrassi would meet under the mistletoe. Instead of meeting Craig under the mistletoe, Ashley gave him a present of her own, a big ol' slap across his face. I enjoyed it, was inches away...pretty sweet," says J.T., grinning widely.
"I can't believe you did that," says Jimmy, shaking his head.
"I think it was pretty pimp," defends Spinner, then receiving a look from Marco. "I mean...bad Craig. Very bad Craig. No eggnog for you."
"Why did you do it, man?" asks Marco.
Future Craig approaches Marco, oblivious to his appearance. It's funny how even as a shadow, he finds it easier talking to the most sympathetic of his friends. Must've been that kiss they shared.
"Was...was like lost...or whatever," answers future Craig, while the younger one remains silent. "I didn't know what love was."
Ghost Manny sighs, gives him a sad stare. "That's honestly what you thought afterwards, isn't it?"
"Yes," admits Craig. "Didn't know it at the time."
"Should be concentrating on my music, anyway!" insists younger Craig. "But I can't do it with this pathetic percussion..."
"Hey!" protests Spinner.
"The showboating guitar guru..."
"You must be out your riff-lovin' mind, man!" interjects Jimmy.
"Or the botched bass lines," completes Craig. "You guys suck. Complaining about the cold. So clear you guys aren't practicing at home, anyways."
"I'm trying!" promises Marco. "Can't I just whip out my accordion?"
"Bubbe's friend has one of those!" says Toby, beaming despite not being heard.
"Perhaps we need a second opinion?" blasts Jimmy. "Oh, wait. The one person who came to rehearsals with any music knowledge, our only audience...Ashley? You cheated on her!"
"Go write a sexist rhyme!" snaps Craig.
"Gladly," whispers Jimmy, glaring. "Let's leave, guys."
Young Craig stares on in bemusement as the other guys pack their instruments hurriedly, head into the night. Marco hangs for a bit, Toby not too surprised.
"We know you're hurting, but you could be a little more sensitive, buddy," says Marco. "Your friends are here for you."
"All of you are judging me," mutters Craig, pretending to adjust a couple guitar tabs.
"That's not...," begins Marco.
"Go, Marco," interrupts Craig. "I'll sink into the black depths of eternal darkness, never to return, failing to bother another human soul."
"Uh, okay, Ashley...see you in school," says Marco, exiting the garage.
Young Craig breathes heavily, lounges on an ugly, faded red couch with stuffing showing near the bottom. He strums his guitar, his singing bouncing off the walls:
"I don't got no one for Christmas...there is just one girl I need...too inept to cook any dinner...too lazy to get a tree...Joey and Caitlin are knockin' boots...while I work on these awful tunes...make an artist's dream come true...all I want for Christmas is you."
"Ewww, I hate moody Craig," complains Manny, pulling some earmuffs from her robe that conveniently match her thong.
"Don't we all?" says J.T. "Thank goodness, because who should appear but the lovely Ashley Kerwin."
"Ugh!" cries Toby, as he hears a steady bang on the metal garage door.
Bouncing up from the couch, younger Craig lays his guitar on the sofa, raises the door. They all stare at Ashley, black wool coat on her frame, dark green scarf fluttering under her short, red-brown hair. Manny removes her earmuffs, now appearing interested.
"Whoa, it's so weird seeing her change her styles so quickly," says J.T.
"You do go to Degrassi, right?" kids Toby, sarcastically.
"Um, you know what I meant," says J.T. "Ignoring your last remark, it's both strange and wondrous for Ashley to have appeared at that very moment. Still incredibly bruised by Craig's infidelity, Ashley thought it best to return a certain gift Craig laid on her doorstep that morning."
"I left it there at six a.m.," explains older Craig to Manny. "Her parents weren't up, Toby wasn't up..."
"Cool, I got mentioned!" says Toby, happily.
"Even if she hated me, I wanted her to have the...," says future Craig.
"A Ramones T-shirt!" exclaims Ashley, covering future Craig's next words. "You thought I would take you back by giving me a piece of clothing?"
"No!" says younger Craig. "Maybe...alright, yes. Ashley, the shirt cost eighty dollars."
"Really?" cries ghost Manny. "How much did my skating bracelet cost?"
"Um...I can't hear myself," deflects Craig, turning from Manny.
"Craig, why would you think a gift would change how I feel?" says Ashley. "It's almost like you believe..."
Future Craig nods, as Ashley's voice stalls.
"Neither of them could utter the sad reality," sighs J.T. "Whenever Albert hurt Craig, he bought him things. It was a habit that has sadly made its way into what they shared. Craig, fifteen, had trouble expressing how badly he felt with words. Until..."
"Until he wrote Dust!" interrupts Toby.
"I wasn't finished," groans J.T. "And that's how it was...until he wrote Dust. There, I'm finished."
"Wait...he didn't write it that night," argues Toby.
"I only cover Christmases, Toby," says J.T., resetting his watch. "Alright, Manny's got two minutes to get to the next scene, or else I'm taking over."
The boys stare at Manny expectantly, as she glances at future Craig taking in himself and Ashley, vulnerable eyes piercing the past.
"I gave you my grandpa's guitar because it meant something to me, because it was from my heart," reminds Ashley, tossing him the shirt.
"Can't return it," moans younger Craig, putting it against his own chest. "Hmmm."
"You don't get it...you never do!" shouts Ashley. "How about I buy you a T-shirt and you see what good it does you?"
"Why don't you?" snaps Craig, rising. "Like with my face on it, burning in some flames, since you hate me so much?"
"Maybe I will!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"No, for real, Ash, I can't return it," says younger Craig, calmly.
"Ah!" exclaims Ashley, turning and stomping down the pavement of the Jeremiah driveway.
Toby, Manny, and J.T. offer future Craig annoyed looks.
"What...I couldn't return it," defends future Craig. "Alright, that was the worst Christmas ever. I was selfish, thoughtless, needed a haircut...you can stop me."
"Nah, you're doing a good job," compliments Manny. "Although, to hammer it in further, we're going to a flashback that wasn't too long ago. You know how we roll."
"Guys, do we have a prettier one?" suggests future Craig, shrugging.
"The tambourine," giggles Manny. "Okay, that will do."
Tambourine? Toby doesn't recall Manny playing any tambourine? Great, so he's the only person that can't play a musical instrument in this school. Well, maybe Emma didn't. Or J.T.
"J.T...," says Toby, turning to his best friend.
"Shake yo tambourine, goin', get yourself a whistling!" raps J.T., removing his top hat and pumping his butt. "Shake yo tambourine...goin' get...oops, sorry. Couldn't resist."
"This never happens in Hanukkah stories," mumbles Toby.
They advance to the opening garage door, Craig casting one final look at the boy he was, Ramones T-shirt slung over his shoulders as he plays his guitar relentlessly. Toby didn't feel there could be a more pathetic sight at that moment. That is, until they reach their next stop.
Thick smog coats their eyes, Toby's glasses, and they stumble through the mist, as if they're walking through mud. Manny the apparition is not exempt either, gripping Craig as tight as she can, blocking some of his circulation.
"Where are we going?" calls Craig through the murk.
"To a place where many people don't want to wind up," answers Manny.
Toby wishes she were less mysterious, this whole walking-through-smog thing the total opposite of fun. Finally, they reach a clearing that holds...a bus station? He slightly makes out a mess of curls, darker than Craig's, healthier too. Angela Jeremiah bounces around merrily, as a younger Craig, exactly six months younger, sits listless on a bench. Their dress is remarkably dissimilar, Angie in a light blue summer dress, and Craig in a grey T-shirt and black pants.
"Cruel, Manny," remarks Craig.
Cruel? Toby wonders what that means, thinks it wise to shut up and listen, based on the weary gaze J.T. is giving him.
"Do not blame me for what has transpired," replies Manny. "Can't even spell transpired. I'm good at science and theater, though."
"No need to brag, Manny," murmurs J.T. "Although the last scene with Ashley was quite heart-breaking, this particular day is incredibly connected, as Craig is reminded of the day, the brutal day, where he lost the other big female in his life. All due to circumstances beyond his control."
"This reminds me of when we were about to go to British Columbia," says younger Craig, sniffling. "Remember that, Ang?"
"Yes...they're going to wipe my memory clean, though," replies Angie. "That's what they do on the first day of vacation."
"Maybe I shouldn't go on tour...what if something bad happens?" says Craig, hurriedly.
"You can't stop your dream for me," insists Angie.
Craig stands, kneels to his little sister. Angie rewards him with a pearly white smile. They hug, older Craig putting both hands over his mouth to keep in a sob as he views the gesture.
"Are you sure you won't be lonely?" asks Craig, separating from her.
"No, there are plenty of people like me there," says Angie. "Daddy tried to convince me to stay, but I know it's for the best."
"Ang, you're the only girl that's never left me, loved me even at my worst, after Ash and Caitlin left," chokes out Craig.
"I'll write you on my Hello Kitty stationary...if I'm allowed," promises Angie, starting to cry. "Before...you know, I go blank."
"Angie!" cries a familiar, distant voice.
Too familiar, thinks Toby. What the...Kendra? Kendra Mason, his former girlfriend, sticks her raven-haired head from a bus window, waves at Angie. Angie wipes her cheeks, goes to fetch her bag.
"Hey...Kendra!" yells Toby. "Are you dating anybody? Kendra?"
"Can't hear you, Toby," informs J.T.
"Explanation for this bus?" demands Toby.
"Well, when people are no longer mentioned on Degrassi, or part of any crucial developments, they're shipped off to a secret, tropical hideaway where their personalties are better appreciated...or where they can at least chill," provides J.T. "With Craig going off on tour, and Joey putting their house up for sale, we say adios to the littlest Jeremiah."
"Nah!" cries Toby. "Who made that decision?"
"Craig himself," replies J.T. "He thought it was in her best interest, to have a secure, family-friendly place while Joey was sleeping with every girl in sight in their hotel room. That didn't take the sting away, however."
"How do you feel, Craig?" nudges Manny.
"It was horrible sending her to the FDP," admits Craig.
"FDP?" asks Toby.
"Forgotten Degrassi Peeps," clarifies J.T. "And there's no coming back. Unless, they're absolutely needed."
"They said they'd have her back at Christmas, after Joey got treated for sex addiction," shares Craig, blinking back tears as Angie climbed the bus. "Liars. Joey died because of it. Lost my dad and my sister."
"This whole story sounds way too out there," comments Toby.
"Yeah, Tobes," says J.T., rolling his eyes. "Cause we're all living a normal, Brady Bunch existence on Degrassi Street. Watching the yule log on TV and toasting marshmallows. We're lucky to be breathing, given the intensity of this community. Besides, have we known anyone who dealt with the consequences of sex addiction yet?"
"I...can't argue with that," confesses Toby.
The bus Angie boards is a black coach, all the windows rolled down for Toby to see clearly. Luckily, he doesn't recognize most of these peeps, except Kendra.
"Oskar!" cries Manny, motioning to a heavyset guy with a megaphone in his hands. "It's Manny...we were in Spirit Squad together!"
"There was a boy on Spirit Squad?" whispers Craig in disbelief. "Oh, there's Sean's friend Towerz."
"Liberty's ex," recalls Toby, softly.
J.T. doesn't hear him, kicking the side of the bus where Towerz sits, and yelling "Good riddance!"
"Focus," commands Toby.
"Are you showing me this because there's a chance my sister is coming home?" breathes Craig, giddily.
Manny shakes her head. "Because of Joey's selfishness, she is forever lost."
"No...no, you...you have to be lying!" cries future Craig. "I have to stop the bus! I have to!"
The bus roars to life, stifling Craig's sobbing. Future Craig walks to the bus, pounds on the heavy side door, the sound apparently dead to the inhabitants of this flashback. Angie peers at the younger Craig from her window.
"Bye Craig!" yells Angie. "See ya when Daddy gets better!"
"Bye Ang!" yells past Craig, waving his arm madly.
"Idiot!" snaps Craig at the younger version of himself. "Go after her! Stop the bus! Joey won't get better! She's still a part of our lives...she's still a part of it!"
The bus roars to life, starts to move faster, so fast Craig can't run with the vehicle. It turns a corner, peels down the street.
Tears streaming against the skin of his cheeks, the younger Craig collapses in a nearby phone booth, eyes staring at the hard, black phone across from him. Instinctively, he grabs it, starts to dial. Future Craig jogs to him, staring on innocently.
"Oooh, good idea," whispers Manny. "Pizza. I'm starvin' like Marvin."
"Hello? Ashley?" says past Craig into the phone.
"Yeah, lost my appetite," remarks Manny, righting her robe and dropping on the bench.
"Craig turned to Ashley when he lost his last family member, his father," says J.T. "She was always there to hear his troubles, be a shoulder to lean on. He wasn't anticipating hearing another voice on the line..."
"Jimmy!" cries Craig. "Why are you answering Ashley's...wait, when did you two start dating? No, I'm in town...getting ready for my tour...whoa, don't change the subject!"
Toby gulps. As he told J.T., he wasn't sure he was going to like this part, and something tells him the worst is coming.
"Well, then...I don't need her!" yells Craig. "Or the Squatch...I'm not overreacting! I was engaged to the girl...so what if it was for a day? And you...I told you about the engagement first and you're dating her..."
"Slightly juicy," says Manny, rising and joining Craig.
"You calm down!" continues Craig. "I'm not being selfish with her...you're dead to me, Jimmy! You and the Squatch! Dead to me!"
"Ouch," says Toby, releasing a low whistle.
Craig slams the phone in its cradle, pouts, then cries loudly. Very loudly. Toby would've liked to have earmuffs like Manny. Craig slides against the glass of the phone booth, snot trickling to his lip.
"Hee...real heartthrob," jokes J.T.
"Gross," remarks Manny, then blushing as future Craig glares at her. "I mean, we're done. Well, have you learned anything?"
Instead of answering her, Craig retreats into the dense fog, shoulders slumped. Ugh, after such long memories, memories they had to walk to, he figured Craig would've gotten a clue by then. So making a tab of all that transpired, which he could spell: Craig cheated on the girl that understood him best, sent away the girl that loved him best to protect her, and ditched Jimmy and his other friends. A regular Lifetime movie, which Kate made him watch every now and then.
They all head into the fog, Manny managing to find Craig. That girl could always do that. But at least, she has a purpose this time.
"You lose people because you don't show you care, or you think it's too late to tell them that you care," says Manny to Craig. "Don't isolate yourself because of past wrongs."
"That...was surprisingly deep," praises Craig, stalling.
"Mmm, more like a summary, because I gotta bounce," says Manny. "Party time!"
"Can I go?" inquires Craig.
"No," replies Manny.
"What...what about not isolating myself?" says Craig.
"This is a party for spirits that revert back to their human forms on Christmas," explains Manny. "Very V.I.P. Okay, there's only three of us. But we're party animals, so it's all good."
"And you're celebrating?" prompts Craig.
"Hopefully, your awakening," says Manny. "I'm partying in anticipation that you'll come around. No matter our rocky past, you're still the sweet hottie that gave me a Fluffy Fluff."
"Awww, thanks," remarks Craig. "I guess I...I'm a little more open to hearing different points of view. The best musicians did. Bring on the next ghost."
"Stand still," commands Manny.
Craig obeys, stalling in the fog, white mist shading his eyes. Then, he receives a giant push from Manny, Toby and J.T. taking either side of his arm as he falls. They seemingly fall forever, despite the short distance that propels them from the misty night to Craig's bedroom floor. Toby cries out in pain. Craig's elbow is digging into his stomach.
"Fiction is pain," observes Toby.
"Fact is wack?" suggests J.T.
"Corny," dismisses Toby. "Please tell me we don't have to wait another hour for the next..."
The ringing of Craig's alarm mutes his speech, Toby detecting a strong, fragrant smell seeping in from under the door. J.T. and Craig sniff as well.
"That's not goulash," whispers Craig, opening the door.
"Real gourmet, that Craig," says J.T. "Because the sweet odor is not so foreign to our noses. No, any teenage boy would identify that particular aroma with no trouble..."
"Hot Pockets!" cries a voice from the foot of the steps. "Gotta have the Hot Pockets!"
"Hot Pockets?" repeats Toby in alarm.
Craig is already going down the stairs, Toby and J.T. not too far behind. Some frequent clattering, banging, and ringing reach their ears, in addition to the varieties of smells that greet their nose. All of it...smells fried. The microwave chimes, with a satisfied "Ah" echoing from the room.
"A thief!" whispers Toby, urgently.
"Because all a thief would want from a successful musician would be Hot Pockets?" questions J.T., knocking Toby on the side of the head.
Tip-toeing, the three guys inch their way to the door of the kitchen, peep inside. A figure is removing a plate from the microwave. The hair is spiked, the ears full of earrings, the tongue pierced as he lifts the spray cheese canister to his mouth.
"Spin?" cries Craig.
Spinner faces them, or what Toby believes is Spinner. He's dressed in an unflattering brown cloak, an outfit similar to a medieval friar, with a wreath of holly on his head.
"Craig's pulse raced as he came into contact with one of his former bandmates, surely the most cheery, eager of them all. Their friendship had a rich history, Spinner being the one who found Craig when he ran away two years ago, and Craig being the first to talk to Spinner after the shooting drama. It is only right that Spinner should be selected to aid his fellow men on the most festive of holidays."
"Dude, come closer!" encourages Craig. "Know me better, dude."
"Uhh...don't think I can," shrugs Craig, entering the kitchen regardless. "Interesting...wardrobe."
"Don't knock the gear, man," says Spinner. "It's all flowy and shiz."
"Yeah," says Craig. "Um, Spin, it's been a rough night, already. We haven't talked in ages. And I don't mind, you know, donating some Hot Pockets to your family, but you can't come in here, unannounced..."
"Pizza bagels?" interjects Spinner. "Gotta have the pizza bagels?"
"Pizza bagels, too," promises Craig. "I'll give you those and you can go."
"Donuts?" says Spinner.
"This isn't a bakery! And...and no, no donuts."
"Last sleepover, we had 'em," reminds Spinner. "Man, that was so much fun. You remember that?"
"Actually...I don't," answers Craig, his face falling.
"Of course, he's lying," says J.T. "Craig has many memories with the boys from the Squatch, including the days when they stole the car from the lot, played for his family and Ashley, viewed Joey acting a fool at the wedding. You can't forget those things so easily, and Craig knew it."
"Always such a bad liar," laughs Spinner. "Heh...least I got a snack for our first visit."
"Wait, you're...," begins Craig.
"I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present, the now, the cool, the whole living-in-the-moment vibe," says Spinner, raising the roof with his hands. "No gig comes sweeter."
"Say that when you've played Albert Hall in London," boasts Craig.
"Don't need to," remarks Spinner. "Because I got good friends, including you, who I don't want to see heading for like a miserable life, or whatever."
Craig swallows a lump in his throat. "Don't want that...either."
"Alright then," sighs Spinner, tucking a couple Hot Pockets into his cloak and removing his drumsticks.
"Hey...you still carry your sticks with you!" says Craig, grinning. "That's cool!"
"Eh, drummers never die, Craig," says Spinner, then burping. "They...uh, just get gas. And a one...and a two...and a three..."
Spinner taps his sticks together three times, the darkness fading from the window, sunshine streaming in on the black furniture in the adjoining living room. Craig's mouth parts, as J.T. and Toby smile.
"It's magic," whispers Toby, incredulously.
"It's a story," says J.T.
"It was on beat," praises Craig. "Where we headed first?"
"No answers yet," replies Spinner, indicating for Craig to leave the house.
All of them exit the front door, shoes moving easier in the melting snow, daylight making it easier to see where they're going. Toby recalls Liberty saying that the time is off, can't imagine that it'd be this strange. He checks his digital watch, sees the date.
"Christmas Day," he says, happily.
J.T. nods. They follow Spinner a few blocks, viewing the holiday excitement on the way. The Hatzilakos snowchick is still erect, though it has been given new, more stable arms. Kids toss snowballs, one hitting the storefront of the Dot. Gold bells with red bows on the front of doors glisten in the sunshine. And nobody, not a one, notices any of them.
Finally, they reach a sizeable home, what Toby would call the homes of all homes in this fair town. The Brooks' residence is a large, three-story house, brick, with white colonnades, two luxury automobiles in the driveway. When Jimmy and Ashley were dating regularly, he stopped by to hang with them, seeing as his social life...well, he stopped by to hang with them. Jimmy never minded, as he and Ashley were attempting to reconnect, awkward pauses always managing to show up in their conversations. This will be more awkward– going into their house on Christmas Day, praying the dust works a second time.
"Jimmy's," breathes Craig, beginning to go in the other direction.
Spinner tugs on his arm, pulling him to the house. They glide right through.
The dust works, Toby sighing with relief, the two boys, Craig, and Spinner entering the foyer. A maid carries a tray past them.
"Crackers and cheese!" cries Spinner, trailing her. "This one time at camp..."
"I remember, Spin," insists Craig. "Listen, I don't want to be at Jimmy's."
"He invited you to the Squatch party," points out Spinner.
"Didn't want his pity," says Craig. "Bet he likes to lord his wealth over us. Nice house, Hazel's a nice girlfriend, nice parents..."
"Jimmy's never been like that," interrupts Spinner. "Values friendship more than anything. He was hurt the most when you left for the tour."
"Then why'd he date Ashley?" demands Craig.
"You were busy flip-flopping between Manny and Ellie, dude," says Spinner. "Can't blame him or her for not waiting to see if you were still interested in Ash. They broke up after you said we were dead to you."
Craig lets his gaze drop to the floor, brushes Spinner upon entering a room where laughter is ringing loud and clear. J.T., Toby, and Spinner hover in the doorway.
The room, unsurprising since it's Jimmy, is packed. His parents, dressed in preppy casual designer clothes, are seated on a beautiful, mahogany-colored sofa. Marco and a cloak-less Spinner are standing near glass cases that hold many pricey statuettes and family photos. Hazel and Paige, dressed in similar red and green mini-dresses, respectively, flip through a family album. Despite the Brooks' restrictive choice of furniture, they all look to be having fun. Old songs the Squatch played stream through the speakers of a radio, while Jimmy takes a gulp of red, holiday punch. Hazel rises for a second, takes a plate of jerk chicken from the table, hands it to Jimmy with a kiss on the lips.
"Thanks, Haze," he says. "Holidays wouldn't be right without you."
Playing with the shirt of his pajamas, Craig then folds his arms.
"Seeing what Jimmy mentioned earlier, actually seeing the importance of family, friends, a girlfriend, filled Craig with discomfort. Those hand-made, Italian p.j.s really weren't as good as he made them out to be, offered him little warmth."
"Nothing warmer than coming home to a place of love and happiness," says ghost Spinner, chewing on a Hot Pocket. "Better than going home alone, eh, Craig?"
"That's for Jimmy, not me," says Craig.
"Jimmy, like you, has been through a lot," remarks Spinner. "I, of all people, know that most. Helped him in ways he didn't like at first. Then, stopped treating him like a guy in a wheelchair, and more like a friend."
"Yeah...that was good of you," concedes Craig.
"Then, Jimmy extends an offer of friendship to you. Not from charity, but like...like to make peace. Figure Christmas...right around the new year is when that's important."
"Craig eyed Spinner with awe, sure this isn't the guy who thought health food put you in the red," narrates J.T. "Or maybe...maybe like most of his colleagues, Spin has grown."
Ghost Spinner hungrily bites into his Hot Pocket, sits on the arm of the couch, checking Paige's legs out.
"Or maybe not," adds J.T.
"Know what we need?" says Hazel, cheerfully. "A game."
"I love games!" exclaims Marco.
"What should we play?" asks Paige, setting the album on the table. "Last time we played a game together, it was Pictionary. And thanks to Spinner there, it got slightly graphic."
"The word was dirty!" protests present Spinner.
"Totally was," agrees ghost Spinner.
Mr. Brooks, appearing mortified, clears his throat. "May I suggest What is It? It's relatively simple?"
"Great idea, hon!" exclaims Paige. "I mean, Mr. Brooks."
"I'll start," volunteers Jimmy.
"I love games," whispers future Craig, smiling.
Jimmy wheels to a spot in the room where they can all ask him direct questions. Toby's heard of this game, a guessing game where they had to ask a slew of questions until they got to the right answer. While it's not World of Warcraft, it is fun.
"Is it a cause?" asks Marco.
"No!" laughs Jimmy.
"Future social worker had to ask," shrugs Marco.
"Is it a creature?" asks Hazel.
"Kind of," says Jimmy. "Go on."
"A puppy!" exclaims Spinner. "Yes...yes, you kept hinting you wanted a dog!"
"Uh...no," clarifies Jimmy. "Mom?"
"A kitty," guesses future Craig, coming forward.
Ms. Brooks twirls her necklace. "A kitten?"
"Said it first," says Craig, glaring at Jimmy's mother. "Okay, kitty. Same thing."
"Nope. Dad?"
"Is it found in Degrassi?" prompts Mr. Brooks.
"The community...yes," says Jimmy. "Paige?"
"Is it wanted or unwanted?" asks Paige.
"Unwanted...by many," answers Jimmy, smiling widely. "Marco?"
"A rat?" says Marco.
"Totally cold," remarks Jimmy.
"I've got it!" cries Hazel. "It's a creature that's not a puppy, kitten, or a rat, is unwanted, and is found in this town!"
"What is it, Hazel?" prompts Marco.
"Craig Manning!" exclaims Hazel, clapping her hands.
They all do likewise, Jimmy nodding his reply while laughter fills the room. Future Craig narrows his eyes, tears lining its edges. Coming from Jimmy of all people? Pretty hard pill to swallow. Guess that's what happens when you cut off the last person who tried.
Ghost Spinner rises from the couch, puts an arm around Craig.
"Come," instructs Spinner. "Time grows short."
Toby and J.T trade sorrowful looks, follow their path.