TRIGUN: MOON CHILD
THE OKLAHOMA YEARS
Based on "Distant Lives" (FFN #3519328/9) from Trigun: Moon Child
Chapter Two
Sooner Christmas
By R. A. Stott
with assisting input from S. E. Nordwall
The church-goers were given a surprise when they breeched the dimensions and came to the Forgiveness Chapel within The Source late in the year. Those from Earth understood what greeted them, but those from Venus and the former Gunsmoke were surprised when they arrived and found that their dress shoes and heels were sinking in three or four inches of snow – something many had never seen before.
"You must forgive my wife," Wolfwood sheepishly grinned as some were taken by the beauty of the snowfall, while others were just taken off their feet. He had at least talked Millie into lessening the deepness of the drifts, as she had originally matched the amount she had remembered from the blizzard of 1895.
At least she had warned everyone to dress warmly for that week's service.
The inside of the chapel was adorned in holiday bunting. Evergreen sprigs and wreaths were hung across the walls, and the stained glass windows were edged in holly, much to N'ya's complaints as he was constantly sticking himself with the spiky leaves. Wolfwood found the trimmings around all the doorways to be both a blessing and trouble. Millie had lined them with Mistletoe, not stopping with the traditional little piece, but edging it around the curved arches all the way from chair rail to chair rail. She made sure those gathered would know what it was for every time the Reverend would walk through one and she was nearby.
"After all," she would giggle, "Mistletoe was the state flower of Oklahoma!"
Puruu and Xuru sat in the balcony of the church watching the proceedings and taking their notes for their school project. Xuru found the festive decorations a bit hard to swallow, being that the demon-folk were not exactly on the best of terms with the birthday the holiday supported. She wished that they had been around for the All-Hollow's Eve festivities, but Millie informed her that there had been none – having lived out near the pan-handle area of the Sooner State meant that there was little need to celebrate that holiday.
"It's discrimination!" she growled. She looked at the large decorated tree next to the altar and snorted.
"This time of year must be hard on a demon like you," Millie had apologized. Xuru scratched her nose and grunted. Even as a demon, you could never get mad or tired of that woman… what is it with her?
The main services were over, and the parents were now over in the schoolhouse having some holiday cheer with the Reverend. Back in the church, Millie had gathered all the children in a semi-circle and was telling them Christmas stories while they feasted on cookies and milk. The goddess in training and the junior demon listened as she recited her versions of classics like 'The Night before Christmas,' 'A Christmas Carol" and 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.'
"Enjoying the stories?" N'ya asked as he joined the ladies in the balcony.
"Oh yes, very much!" Puruu exclaimed. "I enjoy the spin Millie puts on them!"
"Ea," Xuru grumbled. "Same old same old – though I liked the ghosts in the second story – Death can be so amusing!"
"Err yes, quite," N'ya noted.
Puruu looked down on those below. The children seemed fixated on Millie. Some of her own though were looking about, and some would waive to the two ladies.
Millie herself worried the goddess – she was due soon, her current baby was expected possibly on Christmas day, which was less than a week away. Yet she personally decorated the church, prepped all the sermons and lessons, and for an encore, created the snowfall that everyone was greeted with. Now she sat with the children telling them stories. Amazing…
"Miss Millie," one of the visiting children asked, "was this how Christmas was like back in Oklahoma?"
Millie smiled and looked around. "In later years, yes, but not at first. The Reverend and I went through a few years of hardship… but obviously, we made it through."
"What was your favorite?" another child asked.
Millie had to sit back and ponder that. "Oh my, that would be hard to say – we had over sixty of them in Oklahoma alone… we really didn't have a Christmas celebration the first year, since we weren't used to the calendar we had back on Earth yet – that extra three weeks in the year we had back on Gunsmoke sure messed things up for us… it took a visit from our friend Pastor North to tell us that were having ours in the middle of January."
The children giggled. "That's silly!" one said.
"Wasn't it?" Millie replied with her usual sprite smile. "But up until we came back to Gunsmoke, and even here in The Source, the Reverend and I exchange little gifts on January 15th as a reminder of those days."
Puruu jotted that down. Xuru noticed she was and did so as well. N'ya just rolled his eyes.
Millie sighed at the thought of those Christmases so long ago. "I can remember the Christmas with our first child Meryl, the first year she could really understand what was going on… sort of… the look on her face when she was brought into the living room of our new house to see the tree that was there… I think I spent that whole night before making paper angels to decorate it… and the glass ornaments that Pastor North gave us. It was beautiful… The tree next to the altar is decorated the same way, see?"
"It's pretty!" a young Plant-child said.
"They have trees like that now on Deneb, don't they?" Millie asked her. She nodded.
"Not as pretty though," the girl said.
Millie bowed slightly to the girl. "Why thank you dear!" she said to her. "The 1896 tree was my favorite before we got electricity." She pointed over at the altar and the tree changed to a larger one with ornate lights in curious shapes like apples, candles, trees and Santa. The ornaments seemed to remain the same, though new ones adorned the tree as well. Silver icicles strands hung in a latticework with added strings of glass beads draped around the body of the evergreen. Puruu and Xuru sat shocked.
"How… how did she do that?" Puruu asked. "Only a Goddess…"
"…Or a Demon…" Xuru interjected.
N'ya cleared his throat. "You forget where you are ladies? She can use the power of The Source while she lives here – if anything, she's become more powerful with it as the years have come and gone." He sighed. "But each tree you see there, she physically adorned herself. She would make it up from memory then shunt it off into storage somewhere in the ether…"
Puruu sat back. "How many did she make?" she asked.
N'ya shrugged. "Twelve – one for every day of Christmas she said."
Xuru whistled. "Damn, that's alotta wood!"
N'ya coughed. "The tinsel doesn't taste very good either…" The two girls looked at him with confused expressions. "It's a cat thing," he explained.
Millie returned the first tree to its position. She sighed.
"The Christmas of 1905, I think it was, was probably the most exciting – all for the wrong reasons… but looking back on it, we had probably the most fun…"
"Nicholas, are you sure you want to do this?" Millie asked. She was wrapped in a shawl and was holding up a lantern so they could see in the bleak early evening of Christmas Eve.
"It's no problem," he lied as he steadied a ladder on the north side of the house near their bedroom. "After all, what would Christmas be without jolly old St. Nick?"
"St. Nicholas didn't climb all over roofs covered in snow in Oklahoma in the middle of winter!" Millie whispered as loud as she could to him. She then thought about that for a moment. "Then again, I guess he does doesn't he? But he doesn't do it by climbing out his bedroom window in the middle of the night!"
Wolfwood trudged through a drift and placed his gloved hand over Millie's mouth. "Shhh!" he hushed her. "Come on, Chickie!" he whispered using his pet name for her that she always giggled over. "The kids will get a blast out of this!"
She was not giggling. She was glaring over the knitted mitten at him. "Nicholas D. Wolfwood, if you break your leg doing this, I'm going to make you walk to Fort Supply!" she sternly said.
"Yes dear!" he said with a slight exasperation in his voice.
"Don't 'yes dear' me!" she now was snarling. "Of all the stunts you've come up with for the children, this one takes the pudding!"
"Cake, honey… Cake," he corrected her – wrong move, as she glowered at him as if she wished the frying pan was near. "Oooh, if looks could kill…" he whimpered.
"Get – the – tree…" she steamed. She then spun on her heal and stormed back into the house, slamming the door behind her.
Wolfwood sighed. If only he had never given up his cigarettes for her… he could have used one just then. He trudged towards the barn to bring the tree over to the house. Their tradition was to put it up on Christmas Eve, allowing the children to decorate it before they headed off to bed.
He was now expecting a very silent night.
The bow-saw quickly made a fresh cut for the base of the tree. He then dragged it through the snow to the front of the house where David held the door open.
"Heeeere it comes everyone!" he heard from inside. Millie was rallying the children together. He grunted. The kiddy lynch mob was about to string up another poor defenseless tree. He knocked the fluffy white from the branches and shook free the loose needles before continuing in with the evergreen.
Jerry and Meryl were setting up the cases of trimmings, sorting out the larger balls and ornaments along the dining room table. The twins Dally and Christopher were busy stringing popcorn and paper-angels for drapes on the tree. Three year old Lexy was running about as any rambunctious three year old would, which was keeping Millie on her toes. Infant Claire stood in her crib trying to figure out what all of the ruckus was about.
Well, if it was going to be a silent night, the kids could at least keep it to a low din.
The red and green Sears tree stand was hammered onto the raw base of the tree then loosely screw-centered to the bark of the trunk. Nick lifted the spiky branched fir up and had his son David climb underneath and tighten the finger bolts as he held it straight while Millie and Meryl judged just how proper it was. David scooted out as Wolfwood tentatively let the tree go to see if it would stand on its own… which it did not on the first try. A quick snag and the human gantry brought the green beast back to its upright position. David once again jumped under the pointy needles, this time with a set of pliers which he used to give the stubborn lag bolts a good tightening. The tree remained standing this time.
A twist and a turn brought the best side of the tree to the front. A foot from the stand then dropped off, and the tree once again began to fall, this time being caught by David. Nick grabbed it as the boy dropped down to reinsert the stray green leg. A quick repair and the tree was once again set free.
Just then, Lexy the Torpedo came running around the corner and smacked squarely into some of its lower branches, sending the tree spinning and down on top of her.
"ALEXIS!" Millie screamed as her husband quickly reached in once again to lift the tree up. The child looked around and blinked no worse for wear, though slightly scratched by the spiky branches. It was when she saw the look on her mother's face that she finally burst into a torrid of tears.
Millie sat down in her favorite rocker and cradled the child. "Alexis Victoria, you are a pistol!" she cooed to her ear. She hummed a soothing tune into her ear until she settled.
The other children started in on the restored tree, first hanging the small ornaments, followed by larger ones and some of the strings. The paper angels started appearing across the branches. Nicholas and Millie would direct the placements of the paraphernalia from afar making sure that there was an even and pleasing distribution of decorations.
Finally, Nicholas opened a secretary in the corner of the room and brought out a recently arrived box that had arrived from a glass-blower company near Trenton, New Jersey. He has special ordered it from the Railway catalog three months prior, and it had just arrived the day before.
Back in the Forgiveness Chapel, Millie sighed and smiled. "I always loved that headpiece," she said.
"What was it?" the child to her right asked as she saw her look over at the altar.
Millie pointed as the tree became the 1905 model. "Its right there, see it? - A crystal angel. The Reverend always threatened to paint it red and name it Vash – I'm sure he was just joking," she giggled.
N'ya looked at the tree. "Oh, was that what he was talking about," he mumbled. "He had said 'oh look, Vash is back' when he saw the tree the other day."
Millie nodded. "It didn't survive very long – not with a total of twelve kids and all… at one point it was down to only one real wing and a paper one."
"Left wing or right wing?" Xuru gleefully asked. An elbow from her Goddess partner retracted the question promptly as Millie looked at her with a puzzled expression.
Millie looked at the forlorn and decrepit old headpiece – an old foil star that had come from their first tree. It was missing its original clip that held it to the top branch, and now had a bedraggled pipe-cleaner the last year, held it crookedly off the tree, much to Wolfwood's dismay. It was the driving force behind him searching for a replacement.
"But… the star…" she said as she saw the angel. "There must be a star."
Wolfwood looked at his wife, then at all the eyes staring up at him.
"It's the star of Bethlehem, right daddy?" Meryl asked.
"How will the kings find Jesus without the star daddy?" David added.
Millie placed Lexy on the ground and pointed a finger in the air for her to not move, which she did not. She then took the angel from her husband and the star.
"Honey, get me a fresh pipe-cleaner please?" she asked him. He fumbled through the secretary and produced a nice straight white one and handed it to her.
She first removed the old bent and frazzled one from the star. She then did her yearly duty of running her fingernails through the creases in the foil to bring the star back to life, and less droopy. She examined a slightly singed corner – the result of one year trying candles on the tree – never again – and deemed it okay for another year's use. She then inserted the pipe-cleaner into the two holes at the base of the star and bent it over to hold it tight. She then examined the angel.
It was quite beautiful she thought, and heavy. She glanced at the tree, hoping that it was strong enough to handle such a load on the short spindly upper branch. She noticed that the body of the angel had been painted on the inside white, as to hide the fact that the branch was running up inside it. It also had a flouted tube for the mounting. She took the end of the pipe-cleaner and twisted it around the tube so that the star hung over the angel between her wings. She then stood up, brought the chair from the secretary over to stand on, and with her husband to steady her, gently placed the new headpiece on the tree to the oohs and ahs of their children.
Xuru settled beside the offending tree, glaring up at the angel. "It's just a cheesy dime-store star," she uttered with a touch of discus.
"Sentimental value is important to us humans," the Reverend behind the demon said, "Christmas time even more so."
Xuru shrugged as she tapped a paper-angel with one of her claws. "If you say so…" she grunted as she continued to examine the tree up close. She then got a beady-eyed look on her face like the kind parakeets get when they see their refection in a thumbnail and started poking them repeatedly. She stopped when she heard Puruu cough.
"Hi honey!" Millie exclaimed as she saw her husband.
"The stories still being given?" he asked her looking a bit tired from the party. She smiled her infectious smile.
"Mrs. Saverem was telling us about your Christmases in Oklahoma," a young Plant-child said.
"Oh, she was, was she?" he asked then looked back at the tree. He then got a strange look on his face and turned to his wife.
"That's not 1905, is it?"
She giggled.
He did not.
N'ya sat on the rail of the balcony and grinned a toothy cat grin. "Let the truth be told, Reverend!"
Wolfwood snapped a glare up at the Kuroneko. "Listen you tinsel-eating furball…" He then caught himself and cleared his throat.
Xuru caught his inflection and jumped. She quickly returned to the balcony expecting something juicy to be spilled. She then noticed Puruu attempting to quell a laugh. She pointed at her wings. She glanced up and saw a large red ball ornament hanging from a clawed protrusion at the tip of her right wing.
"I like it there," she said nonchalantly.
"Don't let your mother see it," Puruu kidded her. "She thinks you're enough of a rebel already!"
The junior-demon just shrugged. "It'll give her some target practice," she said with a snort. "Okay, spill it!" she then said over the rail to the audience below.
Millie smiled, making Xuru sit back. "Silly, it wasn't anything like that! These are happy memories!"
Wolfwood winced. "That one's happy?"
Millie giggled again. "Well of course honey! Didn't it turn out for the best in the end?"
He scratched his head. "As I remember it, it turned out to be a bust…"
The gathered at the Saverem's chapel were surprised that Christmas morning to see Pastor North at the pulpit. Some had noticed the strange lack of snow on the roof of the Saverem's home on one section. To those who knew Nicholas it was easy for them to put one and one together and figure out that he had done something… foolish some would say – others would say not a thing, just laugh to themselves.
"Good morning," the Pastor said. "I know all of you were expecting our friend Nicholas here today, but I'm sorry to say that he is a little under the weather. But to explain why, if you will pardon me, I will borrow from a verse that was penned by Clement Moore a few years ago… and give it my own spin… so excuse me to those who know it already…" He cleared this throat.
"Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse…
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In a hope that St. Nicholas would soon be there…"
The inflection that North gave to Nicholas soon made everyone in the chapel start to giggle, and some just planted their hands on their foreheads and shook uncontrollably.
"Millie in her kerchief and Nick in his hat
had told all the children that they had gone off
for a cold winter's nap…"
Nicholas opened the large box that had come with the angel ornament from Philadelphia. The red fabric and white fluffy collars stood out in the lamplight. He quickly started to don the merry outfit as his wife sat on the edge of the bed and shook her head.
"You're really going to do this?" she asked. She stopped when he turned towards her just after he inserted the large padded belly into the suit. Now all she could do was fall back into the bed howling.
"I love you too sweetheart," he snidely remarked.
"Oh!" she laughed. "I'm sorry… I just wondered what I looked like when I was carrying Claire! Thank you, honey!"
Wolfwood grumbled and put the itchy beard on his face. Millie blinked and rolled over, planting her head in the pillow so she could laugh harder.
Wolfwood thrust his fists into his hips and looked at her. "Are you quite finished?" he asked as he plopped the red hat on his head.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she hacked, trying to catch her breath. "You forgot your wig!"
He reached into the box and pulled out the stiff white mop of fake hair and planted it on his head then returned the red cap. He then presented himself to her.
"I know I shouldn't ask, but how do I look?"
Millie raised her head from the pillow and slowly stood up. She stepped over to him and straightened his collar, adjusted his hat, fluffed out his whiskers and broke into laughter.
"That's what I thought," he said as he joined her.
She settled to a snicker and tapped his hard belly. "Okay mister," she said with a bit of sarcasm in her voice, "I've got a question for you – how do you expect to get that through the window?"
He looked at the kit-window that had been provided with the kit house. The glass itself was not very large - the casement was huge to make it look big.
He shook his head. "Don't worry – I'll make it… it's getting to the ladder I'm worried about. Wait until I get to the roof then get the kids up, okay?"
She looked at him with those worried eyes again and lost the happy face she had been giving him. "I'll ask you again Nicholas D. Wolfwood… Are you sure you want to do this?"
He took her hand and rubbed them in his warm green mittens. "It's for the children, remember? I'll be fine."
She shook her head and kissed him on the exposed cheek. "You're crazy," she said.
"Yup," he replied and headed for the window. "This is something Vash would try, isn't it?" he asked as he opened the window and saw where the ladder was.
Millie thought about it for a moment. "Yup… exactly what he would do."
Nicholas laughed. "Thought so… see you outside."
He squeezed out the window and snagged the ladder. "I gotta remember to enlarge that window someday…" he told himself. He then swung one leg over and stepped on the rung. It sank into the snow a bit, causing him to scramble back for the window frame. He gathered himself back up again and placed his foot on the next one up. This time the ladder stayed put. He swung over and grabbed it in both hands. The belly was not helping any.
"How the hell does Santa do this?" he groused. He started to climb. He looked over the edge at all the snow he was going to have to traverse. He then looked down at his boots. He saw Millie looking up at him.
"Well Wolfwood," he said to himself, "you got this far – no turning back now…"
He waived to his wife and took the last few steps up.
"Honestly," she remarked and slid the window shut.
St. Nick stood on the roof and surveyed the surroundings. It was a clear night, not as brisk as it had been lately, and the stars glistened across the rolling hills of Oklahoma. The snow seemed to lighten the surroundings. He could see stray lights of houses in the distance – others still doing whatever Christmas preparations there might be he guessed. He smiled and took in the vista.
His church was sheathed in the white blanket. Over its peak he could see his new neighbor's, a Swedish family who had a daughter who could speak English – barely. She had taken a liking to Jerry. Not bad for his eight-year-old son.
He heard some sounds below. He positioned himself near the chimney and waited.
"I know I heard something," he could hear Millie saying. "Hurry up children! Jerry, get your boots on! Dally, stop throwing the snowballs at Christopher!"
Wolfwood shook his head. He could see the kids all in their pajamas and jackets with boots on looking about the small trees that they had planted that summer in the front yard. He took a breath and stood up.
"Look!" Millie cried while holding Claire up. "On the roof! It's Santa!"
With that Wolfwood grabbed his belly and gave out a hearty "HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!"
Lexy screamed and ran back for the house. Like dominoes, Dally and Christopher did the same following their sister.
Wolfwood was surprised by their reaction. He could hear their wails coming up the chimney. He looked down at Millie, who was still just as shocked as he was by the children. She then glared up at the man on the roof. He felt a shiver run up his spine.
"That's daddy, isn't it?" Meryl asked. She had whispered it to her mother, but it was loud enough for 'Santa' to hear it. The final bubble burst. He slumped down against the chimney and sat in the snow.
"No honey," Millie said with a growl in her voice. "That's Santa – and he can sit there and freeze for all I care!" With that she gathered the rest of the kids and returned to the warm house.
Disaster - An utter and total disaster. Wolfwood sighed. He looked around. Millie was right. He would freeze if he sat there all night. But he did not feel the need to be lambasted right just then, so sit he would.
"Well needle-knoggin', I just outdid you," he mumbled to himself. A cool breeze picked up – damn he was going the freeze now! He grabbed the bricks of the chimney and stood up.
He shimmied across the peak of the roof towards the waiting ladder. Best he got to it before Millie pushed it over on him.
Millie was busy unwrapping the children and settling the frazzled nerves of the extra young ones. She would wipe noses and toss boots to one side all the while talking to herself under her breath.
There was then a loud thump from above. She looked at the front window to see snow coming down in a cascade as she could now hear Santa coming down the wrong side of the house!
Wolfwood was grabbing at what he could, attempting to slow his slide down the steep side of the roof. The built up snow did make for a break, but he knew the edge was coming fast. His last chance to stop was the snow dam that ran a foot from the edge and kept the built up white fluff from sliding off in sheets. He kicked around looking for it as the ground seemed to leap up at him.
Now the sky greeted him. The snow dam indeed kept the snow back. It also had created a ramp and had flipped him up in the air. But he then felt as if he was yanked back. The cast iron dam had snagged his felt red pants just below the belt. He felt himself start to swing, and the porch appeared to him as he dangled.
"Mommy! Mommy!" Dally yelped. "Santa's hanging from the roof!"
Millie gasped as she saw her husband swaying back and forth like the pendulum of their clock. Even inside she could hear the tearing of the cloth.
Then, Santa was no more.
But they sure could hear him cursing.
"And all the king's horses, and all the king's men could not put Santa back together again," Pastor North finished, ending his soliloquy with a jab at Mother Goose. There was not a dry eye in the house, including Wolfwood's. He had been carried in by a few of Corporal Tolefson's men and Millie and placed beside the altar. His bandaged right ankle was propped up on a chair with a pillow and the Santa hat was in his lap.
"I will be assisting for the Reverend as his broken ankle mends," Pastor North finished. He took the notes that Wolfwood handed him to the applause of the parishioners. With that, the normal Christmas ceremony started.
"Pastor North certainly shows up a great deal," Xuru commented.
"Pastor North is the Observer whose report you're not allowed to use for your project," N'ya noted to the junior demon. She rubbed one of her small horns and grumbled.
"How about you Reverend Nicholas?" a child asked. "What was your favorite Christmas memory?"
He stood behind Millie and laughed. "Breaking my ankle certainly wasn't one of them," he noted as he placed his hand on her shoulder. "I remember our first Christmas goose…"
Millie flashed a grin and looked up at him. "Frank!"
Puruu looked down puzzled. "Frank?"
Millie giggled. "Frank was our Christmas goose!"
Wolfwood huffed. "Frank was supposed to be our dinner! But Meryl found him in the barn and named him and made a pet of him." He raised his hand in an advisory. "Never – I mean NEVER let your child name your food! It will become a pet!"
The children all laughed, as did some adults that had followed the Reverend back over from the school party.
Xuru leaned on the railing with her head on her crossed arms. "You mentioned that the other time turned out for the best in the end?"
The child within Millie fidgeted a bit. She rubbed her belly.
"It was after that we had our second set of twins, Faith and Hope," she said with a slight blush.
Wolfwood slapped his hands together. "Faith and Hope! The village!" he yelped with a look on his face of remembrance.
Puruu and Xuru blinked in confusion. N'ya looked perplexed.
Millie's expression became bubbly as the memory passed over her as well. "The village!" she exclaimed. "Christmas 1911!"
The tree by the altar changed again. It became wide and had new ornaments along with the traditional ones. The angel on top lost the left wing, and the tin-foil star vanished, probably along with the original appendage to the crystal figurine.
November 1911.
It sounded like someone was dragging a chain across a set of meshed gears. Even though they were now safely into the new century by over a decade, gasoline powered vehicles were still rare around the Saverem's homestead, save for the Reverend's personal toy, the motorcycle he kept in the stable where Diamond Mane had once stayed. But since it was now the winter months, and that she knew he was out of fuel for that noisy beast, Millie knew that the foul sound was coming not from it – besides, Nicholas was down in Fort Supply working on the hospital project for the young state government. She stuck her head out the back door of her kitchen and looked down the drive.
A truck was rolling slowly up the hill towards her, its open passenger section looking exceptionally cold that frost-bitten morning. The driver was all wrapped up in jackets and scarves and even his eyes were hiding behind driving goggles.
"It's the American Express truck!" she could hear Christopher and Dally exclaiming from their bedroom upstairs. This was followed by the rumbling down the steps of a pair of feet that obviously lacked shoes. The two boys stopped when they saw their mother blocking the doorway.
"Yes, it's the American Express truck, but you two aren't going out there in bare feet!" she scolded. She threw on her coat that she wore when checking on the chickens and pointed towards the living room. "They're in there somewhere! FIND them!"
"Yes mother," they chorused and slinked into the other room.
"Honestly… Bare feet at this time of year…" she mumbled and trudged out the door. She waved to the driver, who made an effort to wave back.
"Morning Mrs. Saverem!" he called through the cloth of his scarf.
"Morning Ed," Millie called back. "What brings you out here on a cold day like this?"
The driver gestured behind him at the canvas covered truck bed. "Something large the Reverend ordered from Sears Roebuck, m'am!" he yelled through a biting wind that made Millie shiver. "It's heavy too! Took two men to haul it off the train this morning…"
Millie walked to the back of the truck and peeked in under the tarp. There was a lone crate.
"Did you drive all the way out here just for that?" she asked worried they had made this poor man come out in such weather.
Ed sauntered around the other side of the truck. "Naw, yours was just the last one on the load today. I get this off then I'm heading down to Guthrie next."
"Guthrie? Lands sakes Ed! That's half way down the state!"
He grunted. "Yea, that's gonna be fun! So, where do you want this thing?"
She looked at the cube shaped wooden box. It had strange words on it like "ACHTUNG!" and "DEUTSCH" stenciled to it. She rubbed her head and looked back at the chapel."
"Well, if it's Nicholas' we'd best put it in the church," she said pointing at the rear doorway. "Can you back the truck up there, and I'll get my boys to help.
"Much obliged," the driver said and headed for the front of his vehicle.
"DAVID! JERRY! DALLAS! CHRISTOPHER!" Millie barked around the yard to round up her boys. "GET YOUR JACKETS ON!"
Ed was correct. The crate did weigh a ton, as it took the effort of all of them, Millie, Meryl, the boys and himself to slide the box down a ramp and into the rectory. Chilled and tired, Millie gathered them all up to the warmth of their house for some soup she had warming on the stove.
The truck finally rumbled back down the drive just as the carriage and team Wolfwood was riding turned up. Ed waived as they passed.
The carriage pulled up next to the church. Wolfwood picked up his briefcase he wanted to put in his office and headed in the back way while watching the truck vanish down the road.
He slammed smack into the crate behind the door, stubbing the toe of the foot he had broken a few years prior.
"Daddy's home!" Faith called as she watched him jump up and down.
That evening, the children were all over Nicholas asking just what it was they had put in the church. Even Millie wondered, as the only other thing that had been delivered to their farm that heavy in a box like that had been the new bell for the steeple.
Wolfwood deftly dodged the questions, answering only that it was some new equipment he had ordered.
That evening as she sat in bed, Millie pondered the huge crate in her mind. Her husband had a nasty habit of bringing things to the homestead on his own, and this was obviously one of them. She could only think it had to be something for Christmas, since it was coming up fast, and she knew how much he loved surprising the children.
She was brought out of her dream-world by a thunk in her lap. She found the Sears Catalog there opened to the toy page and her husband grinning beside her. She reached over and put on her glasses she used for reading in bed and looked at the spread the page displayed.
It was a single item page – usually meant for an extra special thing – and usually an expensive thing.
"I got this for Faith and Hope," he grinned. She blinked and read the page again.
The Village – Create a real Village in your own Home! 100 Bavarian Cedar plates with lithographic stenciling create a new world for your children to play in! Our tongue and groove design makes for easy assembly! Over 600 parts! Only $10!
Millie looked at the intricate designs and layout of the hand-drawn page, examining the children playing within their own little town, running a 'store' - playing in the 'home' – riding the rocking horse – all packed into that crate in the church - And all for the now four year old twins.
"Honey… Ten Dollars is an awful lot to spend, don't you think?" she asked, worried about the expense ($10 in 1911 WAS a lot then…). "I mean, its beautiful, but…"
"Not to worry Chickie," he said as he rubbed her shoulder. "Rob and I went in on this… He said he'd be here on Christmas Eve to help assemble it too."
"Pastor North?" she asked, surprised that he would not have something better to do on Christmas Eve.
Wolfwood shrugged knowing what she meant by that question. "He's a man without a parish – ever since statehood and the reformation of the fort systems, he's got plenty of time on his hands."
Millie laughed. "What? Doesn't he have us to look after?"
Wolfwood looked at his wife in a bit of shock. She was supposed to not know that North was really an Observer, there to make sure their family was kept safe. "What do you mean?" he asked her.
She giggled her coy little laugh. "Well, he's always there when we need him, isn't he? Our own guardian angel." She removed her glasses and hugged Wolfwood. "I'm going to have to thank him for this. It's so beautiful!"
Wolfwood smiled. He still was living down the Christmas of 1905 fiasco, so having his wife agree with him on this one meant the world to him. They shut off the lamp and curled up together in peace that night.
"Knock-knock anyone!" Pastor North said as he peeked in the kitchen door on Christmas Eve. "Anybody home?" He promptly was grabbed and hugged by Millie and Meryl.
"Hey, we don't get any of that?" Tolefson asked as he carried in a fresh turkey and a wreath. He was followed by Ike and another man from the old troop that was disbanded from Fort Supply.
"Well of course you do!" Millie said as she moved to the other men in the row, leaving each one gasping for air. "And Merry Christmas!"
The day was spent setting up the tree and ornaments, with the visiting men carousing with Wolfwood and the boys. An afternoon game of football in the snow was the event of the day. It was the five men Vs the four Saverem boys and eight year old Lexy who subbed for Ashton, who was only a year old at the time. The feisty young red-head was very much a tom-boy, and could hold her own with the older boys, let alone the men on the other team. She would dart between their legs and scored more than once.
"What sort of eel are you raising here, Reverend?" Tolefson gasped out of breath. "She's a slick one!"
Wolfwood had both hands on his knees as he watched his daughter jump up and down after scoring yet again on them. "She's got Dominique's moves, that's for sure." He looked over at North, who was giving him a glaring eye. He shook his head as Wolfwood realized what he had just said.
"That lady is in your past son," the Pastor said quietly as he patted him on the shoulder. "I suggest you never compare any of your children to any of those you left behind, especially Dominique the Cyclops."
Wolfwood stood up and looked his friend in the eyes. "You knew of me and Dominique?"
North sighed and patted him again. "Of how she entwined herself into your world? Of how she maneuvered you so that the Gung-Ho Guns could take over the orphanage? Of how she deceived you into betraying your call on Gunsmoke? Or that she was the daughter of Chapel the Evergreen?"
Wolfwood's eyes were beads. Sweat rolled down his forehead. "She was what?" he asked.
North shook his head as the other men took up positions to take the football downfield. "She was yet another apple that Chapel used on you – always out of reach. Come on… let's get those kids of yours."
Wolfwood grunted as he relaxed. "Damn it, I hate it when you start in on me like that… Blasted Observers…"
North turned towards him, his mind now back on the game. "Run wide and I'll throw the ball to you, got it?"
Wolfwood glowered at him. "You're just going to let that drop, aren't you?"
"Aren't you?" North asked back. He then turned to ready to take the ball. Wolfwood blew some air and started to move out to his left.
"Okay kids," North grinned, "funs over! Let's see if you've ever done this before… SET! HIKE! HIKE! HIKE!"
Millie had just come out onto the porch with the old school bell she used to drag the children in for supper and saw the play start. She held the clapper and smiled as she saw them running about in the snow having fun.
Lexy used her size to her advantage again, scooting between the three grown men and the strong farm-raised boys that were holding them back. Wolfwood had run in a curved line along the edge of a fence that kept the hogs in their pen.
North reared back and took aim. He began to throw the ball in a forward pass just as a red-headed girl slammed into his belly. The ball left his hand in a higher arc than he had intended.
"Whoa!" the boys called, never seeing their football spiral away like that before, the graceful curve it made as it's rotation and it's shape made it soar through the air.
Wolfwood saw that it was going to be high, so he leaped up for it.
Millie brought her hand up to her face, clutching her fingers as she saw where her husband was going.
There was the sound of wood breaking.
There was the sound of a man of religion cursing.
There was the resounding sound of something hitting muddy mired soil.
The ground in the sty never seemed to freeze, even in the harshest winters. Wolfwood looked at his hands, since they were still above the mud. The ball rested in them. He grinned, his teeth the only white thing showing at the time.
Millie exhaled. "Meryl," she quietly told her daughter, "draw your father a bath… Dinner will be just a bit late…"
"Yes momma," she said as she went back into the house.
That evening was spent reliving that play over and over again. Lexy would show her muscle as an affirmation to all that she was indeed the rushing queen. Hope and Faith would run around her gleefully cheering their big little sister, who single-handedly beat the grown men at their own game.
"I must say, this has been the most exciting Christmas Eve we've had in a long time," Millie said as she handed out hot coffees and chocolates after the tree had been decorated.
"Will you be staying for Christmas Day?" Christopher asked Pastor North.
North rubbed his shoulder. "Something tells me that tomorrow morning, I won't be able to move very well, so yes I will be here helping your father with the Christmas sermon. How about you, Tolly?"
"We're not due back until the 27th, so yea, I guess we'll be hanging around too," he said as he gestured to his comrades.
"And where would that be?" Meryl asked, taking Tolefson by surprise.
"Er, ah… drilling for oil," he quickly replied, searching for an appropriate occupation that she would believe. "We're down by Ardmore – near the Red River."
"My, that puts you near Wichita Falls!" Millie exclaimed, much to the wonder of her husband and Pastor North.
"Now how would you know that, Millie?" North asked her.
"Mommy sits in on our schooling," Dally nearly whined. "Miss Rosewater says she's her best student."
Millie gave her customary smile, much to the dismay of the men. The traveling schoolmarm was always getting on the Reverend's case to learn more so he could help out with the children. He had wondered why she had not been as loud about it recently.
"As my big sister Lilly always said to me," Millie cheerfully announced, "you're never too old to learn!" She then scratched her cheek. "She usually said that just before giving my big little brother a whipping though…"
The evening drew on and the time had come for the children to all go to bed so that Santa could come and bring them their gifts for being so good that year. Tolly suggested a helmet for Lexy, which made her giggle all the way up to the girl's room. They all said their prayers and were bundled into their beds.
It was now time.
"Okay, where is this project that you brought us here for Nick?" North asked.
Wolfwood hushed him. "Millie thinks you and I went into this together!"
North looked at him a bit perplexed. "Well we did," he said. "But all you said was that you had found a great gift for the twins for Christmas and that you needed help assembling it. Where is it?"
Wolfwood trudged the men out to the church where the crate still sat in the place it had been plopped nearly a month prior.
North looked at it - then at the Reverend - then back at it.
"Oh – My – God… it's the Village!" he said while examining the box closer.
"You know this?" Wolfwood asked as he picked up a crowbar and hammer.
North rubbed his forehead and nodded. "This is part of a set, isn't it? There's a zoo and a circus that can be added to it, right?"
Wolfwood looked at the crate and shook his head. "Yea, I was thinking of getting the zoo for Easter."
North looked closely at a label on the side of the box and read it aloud. "Achtung! Warnung! Benutzen Sie Keine Haken!"
Tolefson look at the next side. "Aufmerksamkeit! Benutzen Sie nicht Einmischenstäbe!"
"They're certainly wanting us to know something," Ike said while scratching his head.
"It's German," North said as he pulled out his little box and started to key in what he was reading. "Warning!" he translated. "Do not use hooks!" He keyed in the text on the second label. "Attention! Do not use… interference staffs?"
Wolfwood slapped the crowbar into the edge of the crate and started to tap it home. "Stupid labels… let's see what we have here…"
The box in North's hand beeped. "Oops! 'Pry-bars' it now says…"
"Isn't that a latch I see on the bottom?" Ike noted.
Wolfwood was halfway into tearing a slat off the crate. He peeked under it to see that he was neatly ripping a lithographed piece with the large metal tool.
"Diese Seite oben!" Tolefson said as he found another label, this time with an arrow on it that pointed to the ground.
"Umm… This side above… uh… up!" North translated.
Wolfwood smacked the slat back into its slot with the hammer.
It took all five of them to roll the crate over once. North noted that if they had another like it, that it would have made a perfect pair of dice. Wolfwood did not see the humor in it as he panted. Not only was this thing heavy, but the latches were chewing up the floor of his church!
"Okay gentlemen," Tolefson said while bracing himself against the case, "once more… one… two… three!"
The cube rolled over again and slammed down hard. A sickening crack was heard, but no one saw what made it at first.
North suddenly dropped a foot as the floorboard fell away under him. He quickly leapt up with his other foot out of the hole.
"Great… just great," Wolfwood grumbled examining the damage to his church.
Ike started to throw the latches. The last pair on the side that they rolled the cube on were slightly bent from the ground they were pivoted on. One fell off in his hand. The other took the hammer to free up.
The lid finally came off, and they were greeted by a plethora of paper bags, all of whom seemed flat from being compressed for over a month under the weight of all those cedar plates. There were pieces of flattened play food, squeezed merchandise toy-stock for the play store in the Village, money that resembled a Deutsch Mark, a few broken dishes that were quickly removed from the assortment, and something that perplexed Wolfwood, since they came in their own small crate, that they had managed to survive the thumping and rolling, let alone the month on the bottom of the stack, and just that they were in the case in the first place… Ceramic Beer steins… six of them.
"They are for the Bierhalle," North noted as he unfolded a large sheet of paper that was under the last squished paper bag.
"A what?" Nick asked.
"A Beer Hall," North chuckled, not needing to use the translator on that one.
Wolfwood sat down in a chair looking at the crate. "I got my little girls a bar for Christmas?" he asked.
North shrugged. "In Germany, this is quite normal and popular. And it's a Beer Hall, not a bar. They're very different."
Wolfwood looked at him. "Do they serve drinks?"
"Only beer," North noted.
"Are they alcohol?"
North had to agree on that one.
"Then it's a bar!" Wolfwood steamed.
"Okay…" North started. "Err…"
The Pastor stopped when he noticed what Tolefson was holding up – a petite little Bar Maid's uniform.
"Oy…" North grunted. "Okay, I guess you're just going to have to edit this mess…"
"Six Hundred pieces…" Wolfwood mumbled.
"Five Hundred Ninety Three," North corrected then remembered the dishes. "Five Hundred Eighty Seven."
They started to remove the panels from the box. The artwork was exquisite. The details were exact and well rendered. The instructions though…
"German," North commented.
"All of it?" Wolfwood asked.
"All of it," North replied as he unfolded the sheets. Unlike the artwork on the Village 'buildings' the instructions were a horridly vague and poorly drawn affair. What little could be deciphered was simply to put slot one into hole two, or three depending on if section B was going to be next to unit four or six, but only on every other Tuesday…
"Otherwise dice into kindling and serve hot to keep warm by," North remarked.
"Really? Does it say that?" Wolfwood asked, then noticing the look he was getting from his friend. "Oh…"
"Okay… Let's gather up what we need and start hauling it over to the house," North said to the others.
A fresh pot of coffee awaited them in the new section of the house that had been completed the spring before. A large rec-room had been added below the new bedrooms above so that the ever growing family would not burst the poor old building's sides. The Village was going to be assembled there.
It was nearly four in the morning when Millie roused herself from her rocker. Meryl was shivering in her sleep on the sofa across from her as the fire in the fireplace had died. She removed her shawl and draped it over her first daughter and looked around. The Christmas gifts had been neatly placed around the tree by the oversized elves that she could hear busily working in the new wing to her right. She was surprised that they were still there when she looked at the Grandfather Clock. She peeked in and saw a disaster in the making.
"Where is this?" someone cracked.
"Fah! The Village…" her husband snorted.
"Who is number one?" one of the guys was asking.
"No John, I'm the new number two… you are number six," North pointed out.
"I am not a number, Mr. Drake," Tolefson complained. "I'm the letter 'H'!"
Ike laughed out loud.
Millie closed the door and sighed.
"How long did it take to complete that set?" Millie asked the Reverend.
Wolfwood scratched his head. "It had to have been spring when we finally just bolted the mess together. We kind of threw our hands up in the air and just assembled the mess using angle-irons and lag-bolts!" Many of the parents nervously laughed, agreeing as if they too had a gift with the same German instructions waiting for them.
"Whatever became of the steins?" Xuru giggled.
"Conveniently lost," Wolfwood said, "but they did show up a few years later during the First World War, when there was an anti-German thing going on, and one of my sons unfortunately used them for target practice with some of his friends.
Millie reached back and touched his sleeve. "Those terrible wars, yes… Of all the Christmases I remember in Oklahoma, the two when my boys came back from war were the probably the most special…" She took Nicholas' hand and held it close to her cheek as a tear rolled down her face. "Oh David…" she whispered.
Puruu held her breath, as did Xuru, who had not expected her question to bring up any hurtful memories. She was a demon, but not that type… at least she thought so…
September 1918 – Washington, DC
"Well, you're looking better today," North told the twenty-one year old private in bed two sixty three. The ward of the Army Hospital was nearly overflowing with men just like this one the Pastor stood before.
"You still haven't told me," David Sylvan Saverem rasped, "what you're doing here Pastor North."
He sat down in a chair provided by a nurse. "Looking after your family's best interests," he quietly told him. "Besides, I could get here easily, but your father and mother needed to make plans first. There are all the other kids to take care of and a farm that needed tending to, but they'll be here, I'll assure you that."
David wearily nodded, a gurgle passing over his throat. "What's wrong with me Rob?" he asked. "They won't tell me – they won't tell anyone here in this ward."
North sighed. "You were hit with mustard gas," he said. "Probably the worst thing this war will create. You inhaled it before you could get your gas mask on."
David tried to look down on his arm – it was blistered and weeping.
"Is that what did this to my arms too?" he asked.
North nodded. He was about to continue when he saw a nurse wave to him from the door.
"Hang tight kiddo, I think the cavalry just arrived," North said.
"Sweet," David gurgled, a weak smile passing his cracked lips.
North headed over to the double doors of the infirmary and saw familiar friends waiting.
"Rob!" Millie cried. "Rob, how is my boy?"
North raised his finger to hush her as he escorted Millie, Meryl and Nicholas away from the entry.
"Millie, please…" North said quietly and sternly. "There's a bunch of boys behind those door that aren't getting the same treatment as David here – we must take care… It's only because of Nick's work with the Army at Fort Supply that you're being allowed in here in the first place, so I must ask that you remain calm, okay?"
Millie was nearly at the breaking point. "First Jerry, now David… oh Rob, I don't think I can take this…"
Xuru sat back as she listened to the story. "Jerry?" she whispered.
Puruu glanced over at her. "If this is 1918, they lost their second son two years before," she quietly told her partner in the balcony.
"Damn," the Junior-Demon said.
Wolfwood glared at the closed doors of the infirmary. "What the hell was Pershing thinking?" he grumbled about the commanding General of the Army Expeditionary Force. "Taking those boys to the front like that unprepared?"
North shook his head. "What's he suppose to do, baby them? They're soldiers, Nick. And he certainly wasn't responsible for the stray shell that got these boys."
Wolfwood looked at him with concern. "Stray?"
North took him aside. "Why don't you think they're letting any of this out to the press? Everyone knows that they're using Mustard Gas in this war. But this was a case of friendly fire…"
Nick's face turned pale. "Friendly… as in… one of OURS?"
Pastor North glanced over at Millie who was being comforted by her daughter as she wept. Meryl nodded and held her mother so that she could not hear.
North sighed. "An outgoing British shell exploded as it was passing over their platoon. The heavy gas dropped on them without warning. It killed most of the French and British troops it fell on. The Americans were lucky that they were on the outer fringes of the line, otherwise they would have been in the same situation."
Wolfwood's face looked cold. The gray that was now showing on his temples seemed to get whiter. He huffed and looked at his friend. He knew North would tell him the truth. He just wished that sometimes this man would lie.
"Can I see my boy?" he asked in a near whisper.
North smiled and nodded. He reached over and took Millie's hand and placed it in Nicholas'.
"I'm sorry, but only two at a time," the nurse at the door said, then stopped when she saw the look on North's face.
"I will GUIDE them there then leave," he sternly told her. She stepped back and nodded as if in attention. Wolfwood saw the expression on the nurse and looked at his friend.
"What was all that about?" he asked him.
"R H I P," North grunted without looking aside. "Rank Has Its Privileges." He guided them to the bed, got a second chair then departed to let the parents be alone with their child.
Four hours later, Nicholas stepped out of the infirmary. He found North chatting with Meryl about her husband from Kansas City who produced film ads. He gestured to her that she could go in. He sat in her place beside North.
"He's resting now, but asked to see his big sister," Wolfwood noted as he rested his head against the wall the chair was against. North nodded.
"He's got a lot of work to go through to survive this," North said. "But he's always been a trooper, right?"
Wolfwood cracked a smile. "Mister Grim Determination is more like it. He never cried, even as a baby… even when he joined the army, he was bound and determined to make it big… My big little boy…"
North rubbed his shoulder. "He'll make it… I can tell you now, he will make it. It won't be easy, and he'll never be as strong as he was before, but he's still a fighter."
Wolfwood looked over at his friend. "As an Observer? You know that he'll make it?"
North laughed. "Hell yes, he'll make it – he'd better." That comment caught Wolfwood by surprise, the bluntness of it all. North cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling. "Oh yes, he'll make it."
Wolfwood laughed slightly. "Can't tell me how, can you."
North shook his head. "Nope. Pain in the butt, ain't it?"
"Must be a fun job, this Observer thing…"
North laughed. "It is sometimes the best thing that a man would ever want to do…" He looked down and planted his elbows against his knees, bent over as if he were going to be ill. "At other times, it's crap."
Wolfwood looked shocked at him. He had never heard North use an expletive, even a light one like hell or crap – now he heard him use them twice in the last minute.
North stood up and stretched. "I'm starving… you?"
Wolfwood just stared for a moment. He then smiled. "What have they got here?" he asked.
North looked up and down the hospital hallway. "This is an Army Hospital… the canteen probably serves Army grits…"
Wolfwood shrugged. "Can't be worse than TKLs…"
North grimaced. "You still remember those ration bars back on Gunsmoke?"
He snorted and joined his friend as they meandered down the hallway towards the mess room. "Every time I feel a loose tooth," he said with a chuckle.
Midnight in the infirmary and the rounds were being made. David laid there, his world a constant throbbing pain. The roof of the stark room was all open beams and was little to look at. His labored breathing was all that kept his hopes for recovery alive.
"A woman doctor?" he heard a nurse nearby ask. "When did the army let one of those in this hospital?"
"That's all I heard," another said as she tended to a patient across from him. "That Chaplin who was in here earlier told the head nurse to expect her tonight."
"Really?" another nurse asked. "That I've got to see… A woman doctor… I heard there were more becoming ones, but I always thought they would be the type to have practices – you know… the lady doctor who house calls the little kiddies with the sniffles?"
The nurses giggled. They stopped when they heard someone clear their throat.
"I'm here to see the kiddies," a deep woman's voice said.
David glanced to his side trying to see the doctor – he was sure he knew that voice.
"Abby?" he whispered. "Abby McManus?"
The tall woman stepped to the head of his bed and looked at his chart hanging there. "I was told I'd find a Saverem here," she cracked. "What's a nice young man doing in a hell-hole like this?"
He smiled what he could. "Better than the trenches of France," he replied.
"Got that straight," the man in the bed beside him added. "Especially seeing the doctors here have improved."
"Down boy," McManus smirked. "You'll hurt yourself, and I won't be able to mend those wounds."
"I'm heartbroken!" the man coughed.
"Quit belly-aching Jake," another guy said next to him. "Can't you see that she's got a thing for the private?"
McManus stood back and looked around. Many of the men who could were looking at her, even if it meant straining their necks to do so.
"Okay boys," she barked as loudly as she dared without making it too loud, "get this through your heads – I'm your night duty doctor for the next month or so – get used to it. I get any trouble out of any of you, and I'll transfer you to the tuberculosis ward. Got that?"
There were a few feeble "Yes m'ams," from those that could.
"Doctor, I think we're loosing this one," a nurse called from bed two fifty nine.
"Come on Jenkins, you can make it!" one of the men across from that bed said as he attempted to rise up. A nurse forced him back down.
McManus quickly examined the man and looked over his charts. He was gurgling, and liquid was running out of his mouth.
"He's drowning in his own fluids," she said as she looked for something to drain him. "Quickly, I need a scalpel and a rubber hose."
The nurse looked at her as if she had lost her mind.
"NOW!" McManus barked.
David could only see her back as she worked on the man two beds over. The nurse had returned with the requested implements and had handed them to her.
"Tracheotomy, ever heard of that nurse?" she asked as she started in on the neck of the man with the scalpel.
The nurse looked at her and brightened up. "Ah, I get it," she said. Do you need a suction kit?"
McManus nodded. "Yes, and a second hose."
The nurse nodded and gestured to another across from her. "Cecilia, get a drain pan over to her, quickly," she told her as she headed for a cabinet at the end of the room.
Another nurse handed McManus some gauze she had for another patient. She used it to wrap the tube she had inserted in the slit she had made in the man's trachea. She then used the scalpel to cut the hose back a bit. The first nurse returned with a thinner hose and a nasty looking pump-like device as Cecilia handed her a pan.
"Come on Jenkins…" the man across from them was moaning. "Come on…"
"Don't worry boys," David said, laying his head back on his pillow. "He's in the best care he could get… best doctor in all of Oklahoma…" He glanced over and saw McManus looking at him under her arm as she worked. She smiled and winked at him.
Christmas Eve at the homestead seemed bleak that year to Millie. She looked out the front door at the snow that had fallen. She was not even in the mood to decorate, and had left most of the chores to the remaining children in the house. She watched as Ashton and Nick Jr. made a snowman while the twin girls tossed snowballs at one another, or rode the sled down the hill.
She felt a tug on her skirt. She looked down and saw her youngest, James, looking up at her.
"Mommy, there's someone out back," he said in his three year old best.
"There is?" she asked. She walked to the kitchen and peered out the back door. There was indeed someone out in the cemetery. The gray winter parka-like uniform of an Army soldier stood before the gravestone of her son Jerry.
Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw her David standing there. She was out the door and into the falling snow before he knew what hit him.
North stood at the church with Wolfwood, both having seen the flying tackle the young man had just taken and winced.
"Ooh, that's gonna leave a mark," North said.
"I guess I won't have to tell her then," Wolfwood said with a smile. McManus looked at the wreckage in the cemetery and shook her head.
"I'd better get a respirator ready," she said.
"For which, David or Millie?" North commented as he watched both mother and son laugh until they cried on each other's shoulders.
"Major James Patrick Saverem reporting as ordered," the man said as he saluted his father.
Nicholas saluted back and smiled. He stood up from his office chair at the Fort Supply Mental Health Hospital and grasped his son. The thirty year old pilot was back from his tour of duty now that the war was over.
"My oh my," Wolfwood said looking at the uniform. "Such a distinguished looking officer you made."
"I just got in a few hours ago down in Oklahoma City," James said as he and his father stepped out of the office into the main hallway of the dimly lit hospital. "That was a hell of a ride up here in that Jeep they sent down there."
Nicholas laughed. "Then it probably won't get much better on the way home," he snickered.
James glanced at his father. "Oh tell me you don't still have Binney?"
His father shrugged. "She gets me back and forth, what can I say? It's not like I could replace her during the war anyway."
James pushed back his cap and looked out a window at the parking lot below. There sitting in the Chaplin's Reserved Parking was the tri-colored '34 Ford Roadster affectionately nicknamed Binney. A white canvas convertible roof over a brilliant yellow body and black fenders, she was a sporty looking car, but she had a notorious oil fetish. A gallon can of Thirty Weight was always waiting to be poured into her clanky motor.
"Probably the same motor that was in the Jeep," he grumbled.
The bouncy ride through town to the small diner confirmed to the Major that his worst fears were right. Binney was still quite Binney. She chugged and huffed and panted and sneezed her way to the parking lot.
"Dad, when was the last time you had her overhauled?" he asked.
Binney replied for him by backfiring twice, causing the waitress to drop a coffee inside the diner.
"Sometimes I feel safer on my Hog," Wolfwood confided to his son, "but your mother won't let me ride it anymore."
"Dad, what are you, seventy-six?"
Nicholas sighed. "Something like that," he said. "At least I think that's how old I am… Never thought I'd make it to that age… I'll have to contact Rob to find out…"
"Who?" James asked as they got out of Binney. "Oh, you mean Pastor North? That guy still gives me the willies…"
Nicholas looked a bit worried at his son. "Why's that?" he asked.
"I don't know, Pops," James said as he straightened his cap. "He's got to be as old as you, but he never seemed to age the same way, you know?"
Wolfwood leaned against his car. "Oh, I look old to you do I?" he snapped to redirect the conversation towards himself and not their benefactor.
James scratched the back of his neck. "You know I didn't mean it like that Dad… though the salt and pepper hair does kind of say everything you know…"
Nicholas stood back and huffed. "I thought it made me look distinguished!"
James laughed. "Yea, a real Cary Grant!"
The Reverend nearly broke out laughing. "His hair's still black!"
"Probably shoe polish," James noted with a chuckle as he held the door for his father.
David stood up from the table he was seated at with his wife, Gretchen, and waved to the pair entering the diner. James removed his cap and waved it back at him, then was grabbed by the waitress and smothered in kisses.
"Hi Betty," he managed to get in as he could breathe again.
"I should have warned you," Wolfwood commented. "She's been working here since September."
"Jimmy P, ah have been waitin' for you," she giggled in her heavy southern accent, her bright blond hair tied up in a tight bun on the back of her head like a lamp. "Where have you been hone-y?"
"Out in the Pacific mostly," he said trying to point with his thumb. "A 29 based in Guam."
"Oooh," she hugged him. "Bombin' them Japanese? My baby's been a bad boy!"
"Trying to be," he grinned and kissed the girl again. He then sent her towards the kitchen as he pointed to those waiting for him. "I'll catch you later darlin'!" He straightened his jacket and collar and looked over at those smirking at him. His face was flush red as he ran his fingers through his hair to return it to the swept back lay it had before.
"Hail the concurring hero!" David said in a slightly raspy voice.
"Greetings Administrator of Veteran's Affairs," he bowed towards his brother, "and his lovely wife as well." Gretchen smiled and nodded. He sat down, David to his left, his father to his right.
"So, what will you have?" David asked as he handed him a menu.
"MEAT!" was his reply. "Anything that doesn't crawl. If I see another C Ration…"
"Better than the hardtack we broke teeth on," David winced. "At least those C Rations had meat in them."
"If that's what you want to call that glop that was in those cans," James mumbled as he looked at the menu.
"Zey don't feed you vell in ze Offizair's club?" Gretchen asked in her Swedish accent. James looked up at her and saw a rather odd look on her face. She smiled and sipped her coffee.
Xuru squirreled up her nose. "Who is this Gretchen character?" she asked the Kuroneko as he sat washing himself in public yet again.
"Gretchen VanDermier was the daughter of the Swedish family that moved into the house the Murrah's used to live in," the cat explained.
Xuru sat back and blinked. "Isn't she the girl who had the hots for Jerry Saverem?"
N'ya glared at her. "Jerry died," he said quietly so as not to let those below hear him.
"Oooh…" the Junior-Demon said. "What's with her then? She seems a bit cold towards James, even for me…"
Puruu noted that on her pad. "That's true," she said to the cat. "If Xuru felt it, something must not have been right then."
The cat lowered his ears as if hearing the story was bad for him. "Truth be told, she is correct. There was a time when James Saverem could not say a truth if his life depended on it. A real Münchhousen…"
"A what?" Xuru asked.
"A pathological liar," Puruu said as she looked back at Millie, worried where this story was heading.
Xuru looked at the cat. "Do you know something, furball?" she asked him. He sneezed and rubbed his nose.
"I think I'm getting hay fever," he said dropping down to the floor and heading for the stairs.
"That's not good," Xuru said. Puruu could only nod in agreement.
The ride home from the diner was an adventure, as James had expected. The one hundred and fifty mile mark was met with Binney along side the road waiting some fresh oil in her throat. A quick check of all her other vital fluids, and the two men were off once again. Roughly ten miles from home they stopped to get some fuel, and were passed by David and Gretchen in their olive drab U.S. Army Chevrolet sedan.
"They're living at home?" James asked his father as the car drove by with a honk of its horn.
"They moved into her parent's house when they moved to Florida last spring," Nicholas said. "The Navy has been keeping her father busy keeping the old aircraft they use for trainers working."
James looked at the roof of the car as they headed out of the gas station. "Oh tell me they're not using those old Brewsters still…"
Wolfwood chuckled. "You mean those cranky old Buffaloes? I think only for target practice anymore."
"Good – that's what they deserve," James grumbled. "Their wiring harnesses were a nightmare."
"Sounds like you had your share of run-ins with them," his father said with a grin. He then looked at him with a confused expression. "I thought you flew bombers, not fighters…"
James nodded. "I trained in a Brewster, and I had a friend who decided to try and restore an early F2A that was in our base in San Diego… It was a mess from the get go. If I hadn't torn out the magneto in that beast, he would have tried to fly it and probably would have been killed."
Nicholas smiled. His son had been a troubled boy. He was proud to see how well he had finally turned out. He had survived the war and was coming home for the first time in two years. He knew what was waiting for him – questions about his campaigns, where he was going to be stationed, whether he'd reenlist or finally settle down with his high school bombshell Betty Donahue. He was in for an unsettled night.
It was a quiet last five miles, as James had nodded off. Maybe he'd avoid the questions by just sleeping the night away.
Wolfwood turned into the parking lot for the rectory that he and Millie now lived in beside the old small church. The old home was now the residence of David Jr. and his wife Jennifer. They had their own brood of six gallivanting throughout the property, and she was expecting yet again in the spring. Wolfwood felt that Millie's presence simply meant this old property would forever be blessed with children.
Groggy and tired himself, he nudged his son to let him know they had arrived. James looked about and shook his head.
"It's all changed," he commented. "Where's the barn? Where's the old coop?"
Wolfwood looked about the darkening property. "The new barn will be on the opposite side of the house so this rectory building could be built here. We used the framework and wood of the old barn to build it, since there was a shortage of materials during the war."
"I hope you saved all my tools," James said looking a bit worried.
"Naa… threw them out – couldn't stand them anymore!" Nick kidded him. "Of course I took care of them! They're in the garage behind the rectory. While we're barn-less, the garage has been where we repaired our tractors and stuff."
"Probably where the motorcycle is too," James jabbed back. Wolfwood snorted.
"Yes," was all he said and headed for the house.
Millie blushed as she saw all those gathered to hear her story in the chapel. She looked down on her belly. "Oh, I was chunkier then, wasn't I?" she said to the children and parents before her. Many giggled as her pregnancy was not helping in the description any. Wolfwood looked up at the ceiling as she pondered the snickering.
"Well, you were much older then my dear," he tried to side-step question with.
Millie shook her head. "It still confuses me…" she said as she had the 1945 Christmas tree appear at the altar, it large Victory Star on its peek making it look a bit top heavy. She scowled.
"I never did like that star," she said. "It always looked out of place…"
James indeed was not getting much respite once he had set foot in the new rectory. The grandchildren wanted to hear all his war stories – and this was only the group from the old homestead. Come Christmas Day, he was bound to be the center of attention when the other children from his brothers and sisters and some of their children arrive for the massive family get-together – after all, even Meryl and David were grandparents now. His mother had nearly squeezed the life out of him when he had arrived, and now the kids were chasing after him like hound-dogs on a hunt for a rabbit.
After dinner, James had managed to vanish, excusing himself from the scouring he was going through for a break hiding in the garage. Nicholas found him checking over his tools and his old workbench that they had brought in from the old barn. He smiled as he saw him polishing some of his favorite wrenches.
James laughed at his folly. "I baby these more than I do Betty, don't I?" he asked his father. Wolfwood had to agree with that assessment, as he had seen him more with his tools over the years than his high-school sweetheart. He noticed the half-hearted chuckle and worried.
"Is there something on your mind?" he asked James. "You seem deep in thought…"
"Naa," he replied and set the wrench back in its proper spot in his rolling chest. "I've just had a lot of stuff working on the burner Pops… Mostly military business, if you know what that means…"
Wolfwood knew what it meant – stuff he could not talk about in public.
For a bomber pilot?
He slapped him on the shoulder and nodded towards the steps up into the main building. "The tree's about to be lit… care to join us?" he asked.
James closed the drawer for the wrenches. "Sure." He looked at his chest and sighed. "Pops?"
Wolfwood turned and looked down the steps at his son. "Yes?"
James scratched his ear. "Have you ever had to not tell the whole truth about something?"
Wolfwood considered this, especially with his past haunting him from time to time. "Should I get out my portable confessional out?" he asked as he remembered his little head-borne church he used to carry around.
James laughed. "It's not that bad," he said. "Never mind, let's just light that tree."
Part of the gang was there when they stepped into the living room. David and Gretchen had arrived with their boy Douglas. He was dressed in his Army Air Force uniform.
"Hey there Ramp Rat!" James kidded him.
"Hey there Sky Jockey," the boy kidded back. He suddenly acted a bit withdrawn as his mother placed her hand on his shoulder and glared at his uncle. "How are you doing?"
James could not but notice the feel in his voice and the look from his mother. Even the look on his brother's face was not all that pleasant as before.
"Great kiddo, fine," he said. "Any problems?" he asked, directing his question towards Gretchen, since the source of this odd behavior seemed to be coming from her.
"Not now," David said nearly under his breath. "Not at the tree lighting." He too directed his last statement towards his wife. She withdrew her hand and nodded.
"No no, if you have something to ask me, let's have it," James said, now a bit on the defensive.
"Gentlemen," Nicholas light-heartedly said as he stepped between them then got serious, "NOT at tree lighting, and NOT in front of your mother, do you hear me?"
David coughed. James drew in his breath then slowly let it go, nodding to his father and turning away.
"Okay everyone!" Millie exclaimed as she entered the room with a tray of snacks and drinks and noticed the silence. "Dig in!"
"Ooh! Feel the tension!" Xuru exclaimed. "I like this! That Gretchen lady must have something good on this James dude!"
Puruu hushed her partner as she saw that the Reverend had heard her and shook his head. "You'll get us thrown out!" she warned her.
Nick Jr's youngest Joshua had the traditional honor of turning on the lights this year. Millie always enjoyed the glow a freshly made up Christmas Tree. But in the silence of those looking over the illuminations and decorations, she felt the nervousness of the moment – a tenseness that was in the room with them. She grasped Nicholas' hand. He felt her grip and knew what she felt, her feelings being made clear to him by the fidgeting of her fingers in his. He sighed and looked at his sons. There was nearly twenty years difference between them, and James had always been a bit in awe of his older brother, even to the point of being afraid of him. This was the first time he had seen him actually stand up to him. It was odd, since David was usually the one defending his youngest brother.
"I'll take care of it," he whispered to his wife.
"Thank you," she replied with a shudder in her throat. The coldness of the atmosphere was obvious to him and he did not like it interfering with Millie's favorite time of the year. He patted her hand and stood up from his seat beside her.
"David, James… In my study… now." He turned and walked up a short set of stairs and looked back at the two men who were staring at him.
"Do I have to ask you two twice?" he thundered quietly. The boys scrambled to their feet and followed their father. Gretchen and Nick Jr. started to follow but stopped as they heard Millie make a hissing sound.
"Stop… this is between them," she said, never taking her eyes off the tree. She glanced up at Gretchen. "Sit down."
Xuru shivered. "Did I just feel a draft in here?" she asked.
"It has decidedly got colder in here indeed," Puruu commented.
Xuru shook. "I feel like we're actually there… damn!"
Wolfwood stood by the open door and escorted his boys into his study. He closed it and remained facing it. "Gentlemen, sit," he commanded. He turned to see them seated in the chairs before his desk. "I don't know what is going on, but it is taking the fun out of this Christmas celebration. This is supposed to be a festive occasion, not a thrashing of the Holy Father! Now I'd like an explanation!" He sat down in his chair and glared at them.
James looked over at his older brother. David sighed and looked down.
"You were never in Guam," he stated. "You never flew a B-29, and there's a good chance you're not a Major in the Army Air Force."
James now looked down. Wolfwood leaned into his desk and rested his head on his clasped hands.
"And your proof David?" he asked.
David now looked at the ceiling, not wanting to look at either his father or brother. "Gretchen's brother is stationed at Guam. He's back as well for Christmas. He told her he knew all the aircrews of the 29s based there… James is not one of them… then there's Douglas…"
"The Ramp Rat?" James asked with a bit of trepidation in his voice.
"Reverend," the parent of one of the children sitting before them listening to the story broke in, "just what is a 'Ramp Rat' anyway?"
"I was going to ask that myself," Xuru grumbled.
"So was I," Puruu said. "That is why I had her ask," she added as she pointed to the woman who had asked the question.
"Why you little imp!" Xuru grinned.
Wolfwood looked at the woman and smirked. "A ramp rat is the term some in the Air Force call the men who service aircraft."
"Nice name," Xuru commented.
Wolfwood glanced at David. "What about Douglas?"
David looked at his brother. "As we know, Douglas was stationed in San Diego as a ground services worker for flights heading west. You taught him most of what he knows about engines, James… you should know that he'd keep tabs on you."
James slammed his fist into the arms of his chair. "That's why!" he said aloud. He stood up and opened the door.
" Douglas, get up here right now!" he yelled to the shock of David and Wolfwood. He then stepped across the hallway to his room and pulled an envelope from his jacket and returned to the room, plopping it in front of his father.
"I've been hounded by Army Security for weeks now!" he growled. "Did Gretchen have him start looking around in San Diego while he was there?"
"Hey!" Douglas said from the doorway.
"Sit down son," James said with a command in his tone. "For your answer, I am a Major in the Army. No, I don't pilot a B-29, I'm the chief engineer on one… at Muroc…"
Both father and son turned a bit white. "Oh damn," they said in unison.
Nicholas sat a bit dumbfounded. "Okay boys, I'm being left out of this. What's a Muroc?"
James opened the envelope and handed his father a card, one he had seen before, only he never expected it from one of his sons.
"The carrier of this certificate is under strict orders not to divulge any of his work for the United States Army Air Force – to do so shall be considered a breach of national security."
"This is a place for forgiveness of sins and confessions," Nicholas said. "Nothing spoken here will ever leave this room."
"Aren't you doing that right now?" Xuru asked with a smirk as she leaned on the rail of the balcony.
"Something that happened over three hundred years ago is hardly secret anymore," the Reverend said to the Demon.
James smiled and scratched his head. He rested on the edge of the desk and laughed.
"Muroc is the base in California where the Air Force tests their secret and new equipment," he explained to his relations. "My last crew assignment was the testing and fixing of the equipment that held the bomb they dropped on Nagasaki."
Douglas' eyes got small as he leaned forwards. "Whoa," he said. "The atomic bomb?"
James nodded, not really wanting to look up at that moment. "When I heard of the reports of what the bomb did…" He sat on the desk edge and snorted. "Damn… I tested equipment… the bomb release… the whole assembly… I redesigned it to drop the bomb further away from the hatch… the dummy was smacking the back of the bay during the test drops…"
David sat back in his chair. "I'm… I'm sorry… When your story didn't wash…"
James grunted. "Damn OSS back-story… it wasn't going to hold up. I knew it wasn't… Not with a family like this one…" He stood up and stared at the library along the one wall. "I feel like I killed everyone in that city…"
"It gnaws at the pit of your stomach, doesn't it?" his father asked. James looked back at him, surprised by the frankness of the question.
"You understand?" he asked.
Nicholas drew in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. "More than you or anyone in this family save your mother would know. She saved me, she really did. I've never told anyone of you what I did before meeting her, have I?"
The threesome shook their heads.
Wolfwood moved back towards the desk in his chair. "You shouldn't hear this," he said towards Douglas, "but since you're here… You must swear never to speak of this outside this room ever…"
Again the threesome nodded obediently.
He pulled on the drawer and removed an old revolver that he placed on the blotter. "I was a traveling priest and gunslinger. I gave out the lord's word and dealt with many a sinner." He sat back and looked at the old dark metal gun. "And for each I dealt with, I took on their sin as my own."
"You killed?" Douglas asked with a touch of shock in his voice.
Wolfwood placed his hands on his belly and sighed. "It was a lawless time in a lawless place that I came from," he said. "But a lone man once showed me a better way, and in a way, also led me to meeting Millie. But ever since that day I have regretted my past. At times it churns in my belly and makes me sick. But one thing this man once told me still rings true to this day. I've got to live on. Understand?" He smiled at James.
Douglas looked at the gun and his grandfather. "You?" he asked. "Nawww!"
Wolfwood picked up the gun, spun it about on his finger and whipped it into the breast pocket of his jacket in a smooth fluid move.
"Whoa," Douglas said.
"Whoa indeed," Wolfwood said as he looked into the pocket. "It's a good thing I keep this thing unloaded… I pulled the trigger twice when I did that…"
The night settled down after that – David took his wife aside to explain the situation. But James still was not fully enjoying himself, as some of the children would still pester him for war stories that he knew were not his.
Millie rubbed his shoulders after they had sent the younger ones off to the main house to sack out for Santa. "Are you alright honey?" she asked him with concern.
"Yea ma… I'm fine," he said quietly to her. "The kids were just starting to get to me, that's all."
She hugged him. "Telling all those fake stories must have been a challenge… you should become a creative writer."
He looked over his shoulder at her. "You knew?"
Millie smiled her infectious smile. "You mean that those stories were all made up? Sure… you know you could never get any lies past me. Besides, you promised me that you'd never lie to me ever again. So for you to tell those stories, you had to have had a good reason, right?"
He reached behind himself and kissed her on the cheek. "Ma, you're the best," he told her.
Christmas day – the children had made a mess of the main house's living room with all the paper wrapping and boxes. Millie and Nicholas stood under the mistletoe sprig that traditionally got hung in the doorway to the dining room watching the carnage take place. Nick Jr. and Jennifer both sat on the family sofa, a dazed expression on their faces. Gretchen was in the kitchen working with Meryl and her oldest daughter making the breakfast.
"Where's the boys?" Millie asked noticing that David, James and Douglas were not there.
They trudged through the newly fallen snow back to the rectory to see what was keeping those three, since they had slept over there the night before. A check of their rooms found them empty. But Nicholas heard a sound from below the one room that told him where to search.
Millie stepped down the stairs to the garage followed by Wolfwood. There they found the missing men with another woman – Binney. Her carburetor, most of her electrical system and her head cover were spread across the floor on a parts mat.
"Aw, where are you going to find a head gasket on Christmas day?" Wolfwood exclaimed. James held one up.
"This engine's been in use by Ford for twenty years – I had a spare in my tool box," he explained as he worked of cleaning the leaky valve stems. "I'm going to have to teach you how to trim your spark. It's no wonder she eats oil like this!"
Millie smiled as her husband just stared at the strewn parts. "This is why I knew James wasn't a pilot," she said. "Why would someone with such mechanical talent waste it on flying a plane?"
James scratched his head. "But… I do fly… I am a pilot…"
Millie blinked. "Oh?"
James laughed. "Of course – as a flight engineer, I have to be certified to fly the plane if need be."
"So, you weren't telling fake stories?" she asked with a bewildered look on her face.
"Flying over Japan, yes," he explained, "but not everything I told them was made up."
Millie looked at Nicholas and shook her head. "I'm confused again…" she said exasperated. He laughed and rubbed her head.
"MERRRRRY CHRISTMAS!" a large man in red with a beard and spiky golden hair called from the doorway of the chapel. Xuru and Puruu stared over the edge of the banister to see who was making all that ruckus below them. He was carrying a large green cloth bag over his shoulder and was being assisted by a lady 'elf' who was having trouble with her shoes, having not been ready for the snow that had greeted her visit to The Source.
Millie clasped her hands together with glee. "Oh look children! Santa has arrived with all your gifts!" she exclaimed.
"That's not Santa!" a young Plant child from Earth barked. "He's too skinny!"
"Mrs. Claus put Santa on a diet this year kid!" the bogus Santa snapped back as he put the bag down on a pew.
Xuru blinked. "Is that Vash the Stampede?" she asked her partner.
Puruu was just as stunned at the bearded vision. "I'm… I'm not too sure," the Goddess in Training noted. "Possibly…"
"Whoa!" Santa Vash said looking up and seeing the two of them above him. "The ornaments move this year!"
"Is that a demon?" Elf Meryl asked.
"Is that a demon?" Xuru mocked her. She stuck her tongue out at the former Insurance Girl.
"I like the decoration she has," Vash said seeing the ball ornament still hanging from the Junior-Demon's wing. "Very festive!" Meryl did not answer – she was having the elf squeezed out of her by her long time friend.
"You look sooooo cute!" Millie exclaimed then put her down quickly and grabbed her belly. "Ooh, I don't think I should have done that!"
"I think the baby grabbed me too," Meryl gasped as she collected the lost air she had pressed from her lungs. She looked at Millie as she continued to bend lower and lower.
"Millie? MILLIE!?"
Puruu and Xuru watched as chaos ensued. Wolfwood was on a communicator – Santa Vash was lifting Millie up and moving her to a flat surface without parishioners standing about. Children were screaming. And suddenly Xuru had a Kuroneko in her lap with his fur standing on end.
"Shrieking children! It makes my fur crawl!" N'ya gritted.
"Vash," Millie quietly said to the old gunslinger, "please, put me down!"
"Are you sure?" he asked her. She nodded and smiled.
"We must calm the children, we'll be fine," Millie half laughed as she patted her unborn child. "He just didn't like being used as a lift and really kicked me."
"Stubborn little man is he?" Vash laughed. "Sounds like his father!"
"I heard that," Wolfwood smirked as Vash put her back in the chair she had been sitting in before the children.
A door next to the altar knocked. Wolfwood rummaged through his pockets for the keys to unlock it.
"I keep forgetting that this portal needs to be left open during this time," he said unlocking the special door installed by the request of the Plants that allowed help to come into The Source from the Observers.
"Okay, where is she?" Kinza asked, much to the shock of many in the room.
"What?" he asked looking at the confused and bewildered people. "You're looking at me as if I'm dead…"
"Well… yes," both Meryl and Vash said.
oOo
Next Episode
I have had many adventures in my life
From piloting starships through ion storms
To delivering toys
I have served
And been served
I've seen death look me in the eye
I've seen new born life in my paws
To tell the truth, keeping an eye on the Saverems was possibly the most fun I had in my life
I wish I could be there…
again…
Next Episode of T:MC – The Oklahoma Years – Chapter Three – Interview with Kinza Part One – The Homestead Project
Damn – life is too short…
Even two or three of them
North, Tolefson, Dr. Abigail McManus, Puruu, Xuru, Diamond Mane (Nightwatch), The Treaty of Advent, The Observers ©2003, 04, 18 DMS – Used with Permission
N'ya ©2003, 04, 18 S. E. Nordwall – Used with Permission
All characters from the Anime/Manga TRIGUN ©2003, 04, 18 Yasuhiro Nightow
All characters from TRIGUN: MOON CHILD ©2003, 04, 18 The MOON CHILD Project/DMS – Used with Permission
©2004, 18 The MOON CHILD Project II/Denivan Media Services
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