Martina Grayson was a history professor whose focus was the period around First Contact. When Martina was working on her doctoral thesis, Amanda had put her in contact with Vulcan scholars for their perspectives.
Kyle Grayson was a xenobotanist who adapted Terran plants for cultivation on new colonies. He and Amanda often discussed her efforts in growing roses, tomatoes, garlic, and onions in Vulcan soil.
Daniel and Elizabeth Grayson-Alvarez were musicians. Amanda shared her favorite Vulcan compositions with them which, in turn, influenced some of their own creative efforts.
All his cousins, Spock learned, had a connection to his mother beyond simple familial relations, connections of which he had never been aware. Spock listened intently as one by one they shared their stories and observations. Nyota, as usual, voiced the questions he was hesitant to ask. Though these people were family, they were still strangers to him, and he had difficulty overcoming his cultural reserve not to intrude on their privacy. Even knowing that humans were much more open with their personal details, he still had trouble taking his inquiries further than he would have if they had been Vulcans.
Nyota chatted with them happily, and they with her. He was grateful for her presence. He acknowledged that his interactions with Margaret, Allen, and the rest of the Graysons had been greatly enhanced because of her. Asking her to accompany him on this trip had been a wise decision.
As the group continued their lively conversations, he was sure that he recognized some of them from before, from long ago.
"Margaret." He addressed his aunt while the others' attention was momentarily taken. A shapely woman in a flashy belly dancer costume had suddenly appeared at the other end of the room, creating a stir as she sashayed and gyrated through the crowd.
"Yes, Spock?"
"When Father requested the collection of greetings in observance of Mother's 35th birthday, were these family members among them?"
"Oh, yes…Grace, Kyle, and Ross for sure. Janelle and Amy. Celestine and Wyatt, yes…." Margaret looked up. "Benjamin, were you and Kathryn in on Amanda's 35th birthday holovid?"
"No," he replied. "Unfortunately we were off-planet at the time."
"I remember that," said Glenn. "Say, how did that go?"
"I know Amanda was thrilled. She said so," Margaret said. "But Spock was there…Spock, why don't you tell us?"
Suddenly Spock was the center of attention. He had hardly said a word to this point, so his cousins were very curious about what he would say. Margaret nodded to him in encouragement. She was eager for the rest of the Graysons to get to know him as she had during the past few days.
All ears focused on his quiet voice as Spock started to speak.
-o0o-
[17 Years Previously]
"Sit here, my wife."
Sarek led his human mate to the chair closest to the holovid screen in the main sitting area. His son followed his parents, carrying a holovid cartridge.
Amanda seated herself. "Sarek?"
She had been surprised at the conclusion of the late meal when her husband and son presented themselves and stated that there would be a deviation from the household routine that evening. To any other human, the pair appeared expressionless. Amanda, however, knew that their minds were focused on something, as they had been for weeks. When she questioned them about their pensive moods, both together and separately, their answers had been evasive. They were so tight-lipped and determined to keep whatever-it-was to themselves that she let the matter drop. She sensed that the details would come out eventually. Apparently, the time for that was tonight.
"On Earth, it is the 35th anniversary of your birth, is it not?"
They remembered? And they were commemorating it? Vulcans did not typically note birthdays. That was a human custom. "Yes, it is," she replied, wondering what was coming next.
Sarek looked to his son. "Spock…," he prompted.
Spock inserted the cartridge into its slot and switched on the holovid screen. The title appeared: Happy Birthday, Amanda. It faded as Margaret's face appeared.
"Hi, Amanda!" Margaret said cheerfully. "I bet you're wondering what this is about. Well, Sarek asked me help him collect birthday greetings from your family here on Earth. It's Number 35, one of those milestone ones—yes, I know you'd like to forget it—but you're just going to have to put up with it, Big Sister. So here we go …"
Allen, Norah, and Alaina joined Margaret in the frame. "Happy Birthday!" they shouted while Norah and Alaina threw confetti. Allen punctuated it by blowing on a horn. "Hi, Spock!" the girls chorused in the background.
Amanda leaned forward toward the screen, eyes wide as the corners of her mouth turned upward. Sarek had requested this? She was charmed that Norah and Alaina had remembered Spock from their visit months earlier.
The screen faded to Howard and Jeanne Grayson.
"Hello, Amanda," Howard said.
"Hi, Sweetheart," said Jeanne. "Your father and I hope that you are having a pleasant birthday. We wish we could be with you, but because we cannot, this is the next best thing. We send our love to you, and we hope all is well with Sarek and Spock, too. Happy Birthday! We miss you!"
Amanda was not surprised that Jeanne did all the talking. Her father hated talking on holovids.
Grace Grayson appeared next. "Hey, Amanda! Hope your birthday is the best. Gosh, we hope you can fit in a visit to Earth sometime soon. We'd love to see you. Take care! Happy Birthday!"
During the next 14.35 minutes, more and more family members proclaimed their greetings. As each person waved, rattled a noisemaker, or simply conveyed best wishes, Amanda's smile grew. Her eyes glistened as they moistened. Soon she was wiping at them before the tears escaped.
The final image was a lit birthday cake, ornately decorated with 35 perfectly spaced candles. As the camera zoomed out, Janelle and a young Amy Grayson appeared. In the background balloons and streamers decorated the dining room. A big "Happy Birthday, Amanda!" banner hung just above the duo.
"We baked you a cake, Cousin Amanda!" Amy proclaimed proudly.
"We sure did," said Janelle, "to wish you the most happy of birthdays. We wish we could serve you a slice of this most delectable lemon chiffon with buttercream frosting—yes, we know it's your favorite. Although we cannot send this to you, we will share it in your honor. All of us."
The camera zoomed back farther to a wide shot as family members, about 40 of them, walked into the frame. After the last of them arrived, they started singing the traditional song: "Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…"
When the song ended and the crowd gave a final cheer, the screen faded to black, Amanda looked up to her husband, tears flowing freely now. "Oh, Sarek…"
She lost the last of her emotional control when Spock, who had slipped out of the room quietly minutes before, now entered with a birthday cake, complete with lit candles. He set it before his astounded mother, then retrieved a pouch from the cabinet. Inside were several cards and letters from her friends and family. She burst out in even more "happy tears," a term that Spock always had trouble truly understanding.
After she had settled back to a more even emotional state and had blown out the candles, the three each had a piece of the cake. It was not a true Terran cake, but close enough. Spock had found Amanda's adapted cake recipe for Vulcan ingredients, and he and Sarek had baked it while she had attended a lecture the day before. They had hidden it in Spock's room.
They spent the rest of the evening as Amanda opened each card and letter. She said it was the nicest birthday she had ever had.
-o0o-
Spock thought back to that time…. It was months after his parents' reconciliation when he and Amanda had returned from their trip to Earth. After talking to Margaret the day before and thinking about the events from an adult perspective, he realized that his parents had entered a period of rebuilding their relationship. His mother had been very surprised—and touched.
Few times had Spock seen his mother happier. It had been the beginning of the contentment that, with few exceptions, remained throughout the remainder of his parents' marriage.
"Mother's strong emotional response lasted several days," he continued slowly, thoughtfully. "She was…happy, very much so. She viewed that particular holovid repeatedly, even long after the observance of her date of birth had passed."
"Awww," someone said, echoed by several more.
"That's good to hear," said Celestine. "I always wondered. It had to be tough being so far away."
"Oh, but she was at home with her family," said Margaret, remembering her own relief as Amanda described her improved domestic life in the months after her visit. Although not perfect, Vulcan had truly become Amanda's home, and Margaret wanted her nephew to know that. "I think it ended up being the perfect celebration for her. I don't think there was anywhere else she would rather have been."
Celestine understood Margaret's message. "That's true," she agreed.
The conversation soon flowed to other topics as the cousins caught up on family news. Even Nyota entered into a deep discussion with Benjamin and Kathryn, whose young daughter was interested in xenolinguistics-related careers. Spock was pleased that she was connecting to his extended family members in ways that might not be possible for him. Though he and his cousins shared common ancestry, he felt apart from them.
Leaving Nyota to continue offering her advice, Spock excused himself to retrieve a beverage. Margaret was thirsty as well and walked with him to the buffet table. They assessed their choices of wine, beer, juices, and other drinks. Margaret poured herself a glass of Reisling. Spock had not yet made a choice when he felt someone staring at him.
"That's him."
Spock recognized the voice—the man in the Hawaiian shirt from earlier. He was talking to his two friends, who were dressed as a cowboy and a commercial shuttle pilot. "Isn't that the best Commander Spock costume you've ever seen?"
Margaret was shocked when Spock said nothing to correct the misunderstanding. Instead, when he inclined his head toward her conspiratorially, she realized he was allowing the masquerade. Oh, naughty, she thought. Wish Amanda could have seen this! Margaret smirked and met his eyes, understanding. The trio approached them.
"Say, that's the best makeup job I ever saw," the cowboy said.
"Did it take long to do?" the shuttle pilot asked.
Spock maintained a Vulcan demeanor as he stood ramrod straight. "The time expended was minimal," he informed them.
Meanwhile, Margaret, trying not to choke on the laughter she was valiantly holding in, faded back into a corner to watch.
The pilot shook his head. "You have some pretty advanced skills. Do you work in theatre or holovision?"
"No, I do not."
"What do you do for a living?" asked Hawaiian Shirt Guy.
"I serve in Starfleet."
The shuttle pilot's eyes went wide. "Starfleet?… No way! Are you role-playing?"
"No."
"Well, you're still the best impersonator I've ever seen."
Even Spock could not keep a spark of amusement from his eyes. "Indeed…"
Just then Janelle came through the entry and spotted the young Vulcan. "Oh, there you are. I had hoped to have a chance to talk to you. Everything's out of the oven, so now I can finally enjoy my own party." She noticed the other three men. "Oh, John, Marco, Evan…I see that you've met my cousin."
"Yeah, but we didn't get his name," said Hawaiian Shirt Guy.
"Really? You don't recognize him from the newsvids? Where have you been in the last year? Spock, these are a few of my production people for the Janelle Devereaux Lifestyles program: John, Marco, Evan. John, Marco, Evan, this is my cousin Spock."
They laughed. Was she serious? Janelle's smile changed to confusion instantly, which stopped their laughter. The three men looked at each other, at Spock, at Janelle, then at each other again.
"Janelle, this is a joke, right?" Marco, the shuttle pilot, asked tentatively.
Janelle was starting to become offended at her employees' behavior. "No-o-o, why do you ask?"
Margaret could not hold it in any longer and burst out laughing as the reality of the situation hit John, Marco, and Evan. Spock clasped his hands behind his back and stood up straight.
"Margaret, what am I missing here?" Janelle demanded.
Margaret walked to Janelle and put her hand on her shoulder. "They were just complimenting him on his costume and makeup job."
"No!" Janelle was horrified. Between the spider and now this, would her cousin ever step foot in her house again?
"But he was going along with it, so they are not at fault," Margaret quickly added to ease the horror on the men's faces and Janelle's concerns. She patted Janelle's arm sympathetically. "I am learning that our young man here can be a bit of a smart aleck." She gave Spock a sharp look when a flicker of surprise crossed his features. "And, yes, I am talking about you!"
"Oh, really?" Janelle was intrigued. Was this more evidence of the human spark she had seen in her Vulcan cousin earlier? He had, after all, handled the spider incident with an un-Vulcan-like ease.
"It was at your suggestion, Margaret," Spock insisted. "You did suggest masquerading as a Terran in a Halloween costume. Apparently my guise, if you will, was successful."
"This is not what I meant!" Margaret laughed. "You twisted what I said, and don't tell me you didn't! Spock, let them off the hook. You owe these guys an apology."
"Perhaps I inadvertently took liberties in my interpretation. Even so, my apologies for my subterfuge, Gentlemen." Spock inclined his head toward the astounded trio. It had been an interesting experiment. Unfortunately now the men had changed from their former casualness to the distancing celebrity worship Spock usually encountered and endured.
"It's an honor to meet you!" John the cowboy exclaimed. The other two stood stunned with their mouths open.
"You're related?" Marco asked Janelle, his previous boldness gone.
"You know that 'Devereaux' isn't my real name, right?" Not getting an answer, Janelle was surprised. "Oh, you're new to the company. Then you don't know that my legal last name is Grayson. Have you ever heard of Amanda Grayson, the woman who married Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan about 30 years ago?"
The trio nodded. They had heard of her in their high school and college Federation history classes. Understanding began to dawn.
"Amanda was my cousin, Margaret's sister, and Spock's mother. That's how we're related. Back when I was starting my career," Janelle continued, "Amanda was famous for having just married Ambassador Sarek. I was afraid that people would think that I was trying to get ahead using the Grayson name. That's why I went by 'Devereaux' so people would respect my work on its own. It stuck."
"Your work is so good that you'd be successful, no matter your name," said Margaret.
"Awww, you're sweet," Janelle returned. "And you…," she turned to Spock, "…I don't know you yet, but I think that despite outward appearances, I'm seeing quite a bit of Grayson in you, Cousin."
Janelle's observation was unexpected. Spock's eyes warmed as they met hers while he tried to read into her statement. "Indeed…"
Janelle felt a connection. His eyes were deep, bright, curious. And, despite his careful control, he had some of his mother's charm. "Come with me into the kitchen so we can talk some more," she invited. John, Marco, and Evan's expressions had transformed into celebrity fanboy stares. She had seen plenty of those on her own book tours, and she did not think Spock needed to be subjected to that. "I have a couple of small things to put away before I call it quits."
-o0o-
"Amy, what have you got there?" Janelle asked as she, Spock, and Margaret entered the kitchen.
Amy had spread a work cloth over the main kitchen work surface. Spread upon it were several tools and a big bowl of water.
"I put away the rest of the cookware," she said. "I thought it would be neat to carve a few of those pumpkins. I was talking to Nyota Uhura earlier, and she said that she's never done one. I said I'd set things up and show her how."
Janelle grinned. "I bet Spock's never done one, either…"
"I think he should get a comprehensive exposure to the Halloween experience, not just costuming," Margaret teased. "It's atonement for putting one over Janelle's production guys."
Spock thought about resisting the suggestion.
"Don't give me that look," Margaret laughed. "Give it a try."
Internally Spock found himself weighing the advantages and disadvantages of attending this party. Meeting his cousins had been valuable, but the trappings and customs surrounding this holiday were beginning to prove disquieting. But he had committed to being open to this. At least Nyota seemed to be enjoying herself, he noted, as he heard her laughter from the other room. For her sake he could tolerate activities in which he normally would not have engaged. His own father had become similarly more flexible in such matters when he and his mother were off-planet. On Vulcan, though, never.
Janelle went into organization mode. "How many pumpkins do we have? Maybe some of the others will want to carve one, too. We've got plenty of workspace."
"We have eight," said Amy. "One of them is mine, though. Margaret, how about you?"
"I'd love to. I haven't carved a pumpkin in years."
"I'll do one," Janelle said. "So that leaves us with three. I'll get Nyota and see who else wants to do one."
When Janelle returned, she brought Nyota, Grace, Celestine, and Kathryn with her. In the meantime Amy had retrieved the pumpkins and more carving tools and set them out. Amy also included a pair of food prep gloves at each station. Janelle guided each person to a station, seating Spock between Margaret and Nyota.
"We'll go with the classic approach for our two novices," Janelle said. "The first thing is to cut off the top to make a hole big enough to take out the seeds and pumpkin pulp, like this." She expertly activated a kitchen laser cutter and cut a neat circle around the pumpkin's stem. "This is going to be a lid. If you really want to be old-fashioned, you can use a knife for this step, but the laser is so much neater. Then scoop out the seeds and the pulp until you have a nice, clean rind."
The women's happy conversation filled the kitchen, punctuated by laughs and a couple squeals as pumpkin pulp mishaps ensued. In scooping out the pulp with a slippery paddle, Grace had sent a spray of pulp and seeds across the work surface where it nearly hit Kathryn. Kathryn loaded a slippery seed between her index finger and thumb and pressed, the pressure sending the seed flying from her fingers back toward Grace. The women laughed at their own antics.
Nyota took her task more seriously, doing as she was told. But she was more interested in watching Spock. She had been glad and surprised to see him in the kitchen ready to carve out his own pumpkin when Janelle led her there. She leaned over and asked quietly in Vulcan, "How did they convince you to participate?"
"They did not convince," he replied with exaggerated patience. "They coerced."
Though they did not understand the conversation, the rest of the women stole amused glances at the couple's interactions.
"Now why would they do that?" Nyota asked as sweetly as she could in Vulcan speech patterns, though she had her suspicions. For some reason, before they had entered the kitchen for pumpkin carving, Janelle had asked her if Vulcans played jokes.
One thing he was learning about the Graysons was how quickly news traveled between family members, so he was sure that Nyota already knew why. He ignored the inquiry and focused on his work. Like a surgeon, Spock efficiently cut a nearly perfect circle into the rind, lifted, and scooped out the seeds and pulp quickly and capably into the bowls of water. Janelle had explained that the water made it easier to separate the seeds from the pulp. Amy wanted to save the seeds for roasting later. He finished first.
"You're done already?" Margaret eyed him suspiciously. "Have you done this before?"
"I have prepared pumpkins before," Spock stated.
Nyota set down her pulp scoop. "When have you ever carved a Halloween pumpkin?"
"I have not carved a Halloween pumpkin. I have previously prepared pumpkins—for cooking."
That caught Janelle's attention. "You've cooked with pumpkin? What have you made?"
"Most often I consume it by itself as a vegetable. As an ingredient, I have used it in soups, bread, and curries.
"You have?" Nyota exclaimed. "I've never seen you cook any of that."
The rest of the women stole more amused glances. This was interesting.
Spock maintained his calm demeanor. "The opportunities have been minimal. You usually cook." Although he did not know why, he knew he was in trouble somehow.
"Well, that's because I didn't know that you cooked any of that!" Although she was smiling and joking, if Nyota's hands had not been full of pumpkin pulp, they would have been on her hips. "When we get back to the ship, you're going to show off some of these cooking skills. You've been holding out on me, Mister!"
Their tablemates erupted in laughter.
"Where did you learn to cook all that anyway?" she asked.
He returned to cleaning the last strands of pulp from his scoop. "Mother," he replied quietly.
Nyota glanced up at him sympathetically. Spock knew it would happen when he answered her question. As inexperienced as he was with many human social situations, he was not entirely unperceptive. Even now he saw the looks of silent pity from the other women. He did not want that from them. He needed to direct their attentions elsewhere.
"When Father's missions brought us off-world, Mother often used pumpkin as a substitution in several Vulcan dishes when Vulcan vegetables were unavailable," he said. "Pumpkins grow readily on several worlds."
"I did not know that," Grace said to help break the silence.
"Amanda loved pumpkin," Margaret added to restart the conversation. "We used to make muffins and pies with Mom. One Halloween when she was 10 and I was 8, we went trick-or-treating, and Amanda brought a basket of muffins along. She wore a chef costume and gave them out to the neighbors when we made our rounds. We were the most popular trick-or-treaters that year."
"Good grief!" said Kathryn. "Was she always such a saint? I've never heard a bad thing about her."
Margaret guffawed. "Oh, no, she wasn't. There was a bully down the street, and Amanda was sure that he would try to do something to us while we were out trick-or-treating. Sure enough, he tried to steal our treat bags, but she was ready for him. Amanda took one of her muffins and crammed it right in his face. Not only that, she made sure that she smeared it all over his costume. Even after he let go of our bags, just for good measure, she threw a handful of dirt, twigs, and leaves on him. By the time he got the sand out of his eyes and could see again, we were long gone."
Margaret then continued in mock-dramatics. "Oh, he cried to his mother, and then his mother came crying to our mother. Oh, the tragedy! Boo-hoo! How could we have been so mean? When Mom brought us to the door, Amanda told everyone that he deserved every crumb and every grain of sand. She refused to apologize." Margaret thumped her first on the work surface for emphasis. "You didn't mess with my sister!"
The women were all laughing again, many of them clutching at their sides picturing the elegant Lady Amanda Grayson dressed in regal Vulcan robes throwing dirt on some bratty kid.
This was another aspect of his mother's upbringing that Spock had trouble envisioning. "Margaret," said Spock, "would this incident be akin to a 'backseat battle'?"
His brown eyes were bigger than normal in a childlike curiosity that Margaret had not expected from him, and she fell off her chair as her sides suddenly constricted. She was in hysterics. Janelle had to get up and walk around. Nyota was trying not to lose control herself. No one else was having much luck, either.
Spock straightened. "I will take that as an affirmative," he stated dryly, returning to his work.
"The trials and tribulations of childhood…I'm glad I don't have to go through all that again," said Grace.
"Here, here!" said Amy. "I second that."
"Is everyone done scooping out the pumpkin guts?" Janelle asked.
Technically, the pulp and the seeds were not "guts." Tempted as he was to say something, Spock recognized the colloquial elements of this conversation. He fought his Vulcan inclinations and kept his observation to himself.
"There are several approaches to this," Janelle said. "Most people carve faces. Some carve silhouettes of cats, ghosts, or other Halloween things. And then some, like Margaret, turn these things into something more artistic or more eerie."
"According to what I've read, in legend Halloween is the time when the worlds between the living and the dead intersect," said Nyota. "Do jack-o-lanterns have anything to do with that?"
"Not that I know of," said Janelle. "There's an old Irish legend about a guy named Jack who made a deal with the devil to not take his soul when he died. Jack was not good enough to go to Heaven, but the devil already said he would not bring him to Hell. So the devil threw him an ember, which Jack's soul placed inside a carved-out turnip and carried around as he wandered the earth seeking his final resting place. When immigrants came to North America, they brought the legend with them. Pumpkins were already associated with harvest, and somehow the two traditions merged as North Americans developed their version of the Halloween holiday."
"Well, aren't you the font of information? Do you know why people wear costumes?" Grace asked.
"Some of the ancient peoples wore them to disguise themselves against some of the more evil or mischievous spirits," Janelle answered. "At least that's what I understand."
Margaret leaned over to Spock. "I suppose Vulcans don't have any illogical legends like these," she said in her best loud stage whisper.
He surprised her. "Incorrect. In ancient times there were similar legends and practices," he said. "Ancient Vulcans in some agrarian and trades classes employed t'katra yonet—spirit lanterns—to attempt a connection with the dead or to guide spirits during specific seasons."
"Spirit lanterns? What did these lanterns look like?" Margaret asked.
"There was little standardization of appearance," he said. "T'katra yonet were individual works most often composed of clay, metal, and stone, with adornments ranging from precious stones and metalwork to simple geometric engravings. Each lamp bore the inscription of the name or symbol for the spirit with whom one wanted contact."
"How interesting!" said Janelle. "In theory, because there are no standard materials involved, our pumpkins could become spirit lanterns, couldn't they?"
Spock was not expecting that. Nor was anyone else. "In theory, yes," he replied. "I do not understand, however, why one would wish to apply them as such. The utilization of t'katra yonet ceased thousands of years ago."
"Well, Halloween is one of those holidays that seem to be ever-evolving. I think it would be neat for us to bring in something of your Vulcan heritage into our celebration tonight. That is, if this doesn't offend you…"
Spock could not think of any cultural prohibitions against the application of t'katra yonet, even when the application involved a strange Terran holiday. T'katra yonet had been an expression of folk beliefs and superstition, not formal religious practice. "It does not," he said.
"Good!" said Janelle. "Then I am going to make a spirit lantern."
"Me, too," said Margaret, who went to work. She started carving intricate patterns of triangles and diamonds along a band of her pumpkin. She also scored designs into the rind, not cutting entirely through the rind, just enough for the candle's light to glow through once the pumpkin was lit from within.
The others joined in. They had all carved the traditional scary and happy faces into Halloween pumpkins before, and they were happy with the change of plan. In her zeal, Janelle had forgotten about giving Spock and Nyota guidance on more traditional patterns, so the pair carved their own t'katra yonet as well.
Spock noted the group's ease in embracing an ancient Vulcan practice as another demonstration of the flexibility that humans exhibited, often eagerly. It was the kind of flexibility that Spock believed that Vulcans would have to adopt as they built their new world and repopulated their species. Most genocide survivors had already been off-planet. More than most, they were more receptive to exoVulcan practices and ideas. However, many other survivors had embraced their Vulcanity to a greater degree. Rigid adherence to Vulcan tradition versus openness to outside influence was a constant debate as the remaining Vulcans determined their path.
Margaret leaned over to Spock again. "You said that there was an inscription for a spirit. Does it matter where it goes?"
"I am not aware of any placement requirements for such," he replied.
"Very well, then," she said, going back to her work.
Spirit name? If Spock were to truly emulate the old practice, the obvious name to inscribe on his lantern would be his mother's. This was personal; should he display her name in this manner? He glanced over to Margaret's work. Obviously she had the same idea, using an intricately carved "A" in place of Amanda's full name. That was more discreet and acceptable. He followed her example, inscribing the corresponding Vulcan vowel.
As the party continued in the other rooms around them, with Janelle and Amy checking up on their other guests from time to time, the small group worked quietly. Occasionally the women shared a memory that usually included something about Amanda. Spock continued his work, meditatively carving another small section of rind as he listened to their stories, learning about aspects of his mother and her family that he never knew.
Nyota was tempted to touch his hand, curious to feel his state of mind. She sensed no distress from him, nor anything that indicated that he was trying to hide any, which surprised her. He would have excused himself if he were uncomfortable. But, for now, he was calm.
Finally the last carver set down her tools. They were done.
"I'll go get some candles and we can light them," Janelle said.
"If one follows tradition, we must light them outside," Spock said. "T'katra yonet were never lit in a dwelling, nor were they brought inside again once they had been lit."
"Understood," said Janelle. "We can go out to the patio and place these on top of the stone wall."
"Let me go get the rest of the family," said Celestine. "Maybe they would like to see our work."
"Go do that," said Janelle. "We'll all meet you at the door."
Celestine collected their Grayson kinsmen and women from the other room. By time they got to the patio door, Janelle had inserted a votive candle into each pumpkin. "Let's go," said Janelle.
The group exited onto the large, multi-level brick patio that overlooked the large lawn with gardens, lit by landscape lighting. The sky had cleared, and damp leaves wet from the day's rain fragranced the air with an autumnal scent. In the east the waning moon—about three-quarters full, honey gold because it was still low over the horizon—began its rise. The air was still, and a light fog misted the lower-lying areas.
Janelle led the group to a low stone wall where they placed the pumpkins.
"Normally I wouldn't ask you all out here for a few minutes to watch us light a bunch of Halloween pumpkins," Janelle began, "but these did not turn out to be Halloween pumpkins. When we were talking about Halloween customs, Spock told us about t'katra yonet, or spirit lamps, of ancient Vulcan. One thing led to another, and we all started carving spirit lamps instead.
"What makes our gathering here significant is that each spirit lamp is dedicated to a particular spirit. Following that tradition, we each dedicated ours to a certain spirit—I don't think I need to tell you who we all thought about. So, as we light our t'katra yonet, I invite you to join us in remembering her."
Janelle lit a tapered candle. She walked to her pumpkin and touched the long candle to light the wick of the smaller votive candle inside. She handed the taper to Grace, who lit her votive. Kathryn, Amy, Celestine, and Nyota followed. Nyota passed the taper to Margaret. With Allen next to her, Margaret, with tears filling her eyes, lit hers and stood back for a moment. Finally she passed the taper to Spock.
Spock let down his mental shields, as he understood that ancient Vulcans did when they lit their t'katra yonet. It was said to do so was to open oneself to the spirit with which one wanted contact. All around him he felt waves of sadness and the sense of loss from his human cousins. From Nyota he felt concern. Margaret and Allen felt a deeper grief.
He stepped up, lit the votive, stepped back, blew out the taper, and waited.
The votives flickered through the lace-like geometric patterns cut into the pumpkins. Despite the cool air, Spock felt a warmth. And, amidst his mother's family, he felt a peace.
