Christmas Vignettes

Not in chronological order

Some true, some only believed to be true

Of Elves and Envy

While this was by no means my favorite childhood Christmas, it was certainly the most impactful, memorable, and life-altering. It fact, it was rather awful.

I was about 14 and my sister, Kathy, was 15. We didn’t get along well for a period of time. We competed at everything: grades, sports, boys, talents, you name it. Clearly, she was clearly always at fault. Ok, ok. Maybe I had a hand it it, too. We were both petty and selfish (especially her) and always making sure things were equal and fair.

For that Christmas, we were both given watches. She loved hers; so did I. Hers, I mean. I LOVED hers. Mine was clunky and ugly and her was modern and stylish. We also both got bikes and her was much nicer than mine. I cried foul. By the way, I cried foul to parents who spent the following six months after Christmas trying to pay off all the presents that I was so vehemently screaming about. That didn’t matter to me, however, all I could see was that Kathy got better stuff than I. I sulked, I complained, I cried, I insulted. I was good at that. Mainly, I tried to needle Kathy for a trade to no avail. It turned into a huge family fight and I single handedly ruined Christmas that year. For everyone. You’re welcome, family.

The good news is that I learned a great lesson from it, one that has stayed with me to this day and has influenced my parenting. After I cooled down and matured a lot, I realized that life isn’t fair. It wasn’t meant to be, nor will it ever be. I am certain (now) that my parents didn’t favor Kathy over me, they just bought what they thought each girl would want. When I became a parent, I was determined to teach my kids that life isn’t always even and”what’s mine is yours.” Sometimes one kid got something for no reason at all, and no else did. It just happened to work that way. I never ran out to get 4 other gifts to make sure everyone had something. A birthday for one of the boys was a birthday for all the boys. Our kids aren’t petty or selfish. I am not sure this is the only reason (thought I would love to take all the credit), but it certainly helped.

I was a brat, but that Christmas changed my life. By the way, my sister is still selfish…….jk..

I

The Willow

Robin Witterel stumbled into the room, her feet sliding somewhat on the hay scattered about on the floor. She turned to watch as Patrick shut and locked the iron gate. No remorse, no pleasure. Just a man doing his duty. She spat at him.

“Coward.”

At this, his face did give way a bit.

“Come now, Chirp. Orders are orders. ‘Sides,” William raised an eyebrow at her, “you know better than I that the Captain expects his words be law.” He straightened up, hooking the key ring back to his waist belt. “And I don’t much appreciate the spittle, Chirp. ‘Member, I’m the one be choosing when and what you eat in here. Don’t go burning bridges.”

William gave a slight nod, than began walking out. He stopped by the small end table and grabbed the oil lantern before pivoting towards the door. His body blocked the light for a moment, making the room significantly darker.

“Wait, William.” Robin hesitated. “Could you maybe… leave the light?”

William turned around, lantern in hand, his face awash in the yellow light. Now, one of remorse.

“Sorry, miss, but it’s a fire hazard to leave it untended.”

Robin faltered, “Can you leave it with me, then?” She saw William hesitate. “I’m not about to break out with it. Just…would like some light is all.”

William stood silently for a moment. Finally, he sighed, walking back over to the cell. “Alright then.” He squatted down to the crouched over Robin, and handed her the lantern, chuckling slightly. “See what happens when bridges aren’t burned?” He smiled softly. “Right,” he said, standing up for final time, “best I be off. Captain’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, William Hoscut walked out of the small brig. As his footsteps faded, Robin took in the small cell. Besides the hay on the ground, there was a somewhat clean mattress in the corner, complete with a cloth pillow. Cradling the lantern, she sat down on the bed. She felt The Willow sway slightly, and the distant yell of someone up on deck. She felt the ship turn to port, her legs bracing slightly with the increased pressure as she leaned with it. As the ship straightened out, she laid back into the bed and drew a calming breath. After a moment, she turned to the lantern, brought down to just a bare flicker, and closed her eyes. She let her mind drift back to the clouds, to what she saw through them. Tall spires, bright lights…

“Robin?”

Her eyes snapped open. Morning light peaked through behind the silhouette of the Captain. He stepped into the room, and shut the door behind him. Robin rubbed her eyes wearily, then sat up and pushed herself off of the bed. She walked over to the bars separating them. She had choice words planned, but their heat had cooled overnight. She stared coolly back at the man.

“Never thought I’d be put in ‘timeout’ again.”

“This isn’t timeout, it’s the brig. A cell.”

“Never thought I’d be put in a cell by my own father.”

Captain Witterel bristled. “You wanted to be treated as ‘own of the crew,’ did you not?” He pulled at his right arm cuff, straightening it to its proper length. “Disobedience has consequences on my ship.”

Robin scowled. “I didn’t disobey. You didn’t give any orders when I was on this sh–“

Her father cut in, stepping forward “I told you, before you ever stepped foot on this ship. I told you of the stories, the warnings every night before tucking you in, back when you didn’t even reach my waist. I told you every time you asked about it, what is expected of me, of all Aeronauts. We do not break the surface of the clouds. Wind take your curiosity, I told you to stay–“

“Beneath the clouds, Dad, there is a whole other world!” Robin was now yelling. “You would not believe what I saw!”

Her father paused his harangue, and stared at his only child.

“What you saw?” He repeated softly. His face He pulled a larger ring of keys from his waist, selected a key, and inserted it into the cell lock. He pulled the door open.

“Oh,” Robin, said, still yelling. “Just like t–“

Her father rushed forward, grabbing his daughter roughly by the head, his other hand clamping over her mouth. He locked eyes with her, a gaze fiercer than she had ever seen. His voice shook with intensity, but it was barely above a whisper.

“Listen to me, now, Robinsen Witterel. You saw nothing. You could not have seen anything. You will not tell anyone you saw anything. You were in the foggy clouds and that’s all you ever -look at me!- all you ever saw.” His hand gripped the back of Robin’s skull tighter, his eyes still holding her gaze. Her eyes began to glisten slightly.

“You’re hurting me.”

His grip softened, a curt “Sorry.” In that brief moment, his intensity paused, Robin saw a another emotion behind his glare. Fear.

“Do you understand me, Robin?” His grip was still vice-like, but not as painful. “You. Saw. Nothing.”

Robin blinked a tear out of her eye. “Okay.”

“You just wanted a joy ride on one of the dinghy’s, the small ships I told you so much about growing up.”

“That they’re so fast.”

“They’re so fast, and fun to fly, you had to try for yourself.” The Captain stepped back from her, eyes still holding hers. “But you didn’t know how to fly it. So you sunk–“

“Beneath the clouds.” Robin wiped her eyes, still shaking, she looked down at her hands.

“You didn’t see anything, not that you were even looking. You were trying to get the dinghy to fly back up.” Her father paused, taking in his daughter. “Okay?”

Robin breathed in and out, nodding a bit numbly. “Okay. Okay.” She looked back up. “Do you–“

She stopped as her father’s eyes flashed again. She instinctively took a step back. Later, he mouthed. He came up more slowly, wiping away a tear on her other cheek. “Okay.” He stepped back, straightening his jacket. “Your sentence is for a week. You will not be receiving any special treatment. I need to speak with the crew if anyone heard…needs to report anything about the matter.” He took the door back in his hand and pulled it shut, clicking it into place. “Patrick will come down shortly with breakfast.”

With a nod on the matter, Robin’s father pivoted and walked out the door. Robin slumped back onto the bed, and put her face in her hands.

Not Your Typical Judy Collins Song

You see you have your 10 basic cloud types.

Cloud 9, which of course is the most well-known, hosts the mansions of the rich and famous: Archangels Michael, Gabriel and Danny, who do to a clerical error has never received the press he deserves.  These clouds are majestic, gigantic, resplendent with sunlight and awe inspiring.  Any human looking these wonders at the beauties of nature.

Cloud 8, which is replete with your intellectuals and high (the proper expression is high, rather than deep) thinkers: Newton, Galileo, Einstein and that guy (right now, I forget) who made the first BLT.  These clouds are so high and airy that most humans can rarely see them, let alone follow or understand them. 

Cloud 7 dwellers are those beings who generate luck.  Where do you think the Vegas expression “Lucky 7” comes from?  These clouds bring joy and gladness when oft needed – that light breeze on a hot summer day, or a sprinkle to keep from having to water the lawns, or a nice shade cloud in the middle of a long afternoon hike.  The Irish and the proverbial though real Leprechauns are among the dwellers here.

Cloud 6 is your sexy clouds, or, better phrased your “shapely” clouds.  Whenever humans look into the heavens and see a cat or boat or face floating in the clouds there, they are seeing a Cloud 6.  Your beloved pets and, of course, Vroom Vroom lives here.

Cloud 5s are dense, heavy, full of rain.  Low to the ground, dark, ready to unlock their gates and pour out accumulated humidity.  While they live with an eternal scowl, they are not really dangerous, rather more like grumpy old dowagers, or people we know who should NOT be interpreted from their naps.

Cloud 4 is the one with force and fury – your hurricane, tornadoes, vortexes and cyclones.  These weapons of mass destruction can unleash any amount of havoc, and filled with your serial killers, crazies and loonies, and a few persons who do not know how to be kind to Walmart employees.

Cloud 3s are a model of stability.  Whenever humans see a partly cloudy sky where everything is drifting along in unison and harmony, that there is your Cloud 3.  Symmetrical, geometric, normative.  Accountants and actuaries reside here.

Cloud 2 is bi-polar.  Well, that is not really fair, though Cloud 2s do arrive in Gemini pairs, though as opposites.  If there is wispy long thin Cloud over here, then elsewhere a short, plump (nay stout) twin floats about.  Think of your Mr. Jekylls and Dr. Hyde, here – or your Laurel & Hardies.  Just pairs live here.

Cloud 1 is anti-social.  If it had any power, it would be a Unibomber, though they lack any intensity.  Occasionally, a human walking along will glance up and see in an otherwise clear and unblemished blue sky a single random puff of billows, as if lost from its Scout troop.  This there is your Cloud 1.  Hermits and cat people live here, and Aunt Jane.

Cloud 0 is fog, sometimes just a hint of thickness, barely visible; other times so in love with kissing the earth you cannot see to your own elbow.  Cloud 0 are full of the passionate lovers of humanity – from the self-loving Narcissus end to the humanity loving Anjezë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu end.  They passionately embrace everything.

Now, most do not understand, yet there are negative Clouds.  I tell you do not go below the clouds, it is dangerous there, , such as steam rising from a stove (Negative 1), to geysers and volcanoes (Negative 2 and 3), to the mass ejections of vaporized earth from a meteorite strike (Negative 4 or 5, if bad enough).  But, these Cloud wanna-bes are temporary and exhausting, unable to continue their existence for long or without tremendous energy helping them along.  Yes, they are technically “clouds” but only in the same sense that we think humans are lovable or intelligent.

Here There Be Dragons

Dragons exist.

They live in between the sun and the moon. Not the real moon and sun, of course—they aren’t floating out there in space among balls of gas and rocks millions of miles away from us. They live in the blood-red space that you see when the sun is setting over the mountaintop, when the moon is partially visible in the sky.

But you already know that.

So let me tell you what you may not know. These dragons are cruel, though they seem charming. They are clever. They are devious. Most importantly, they are trapped and they want to escape.

If you made it to this point, it is because you didn’t listen to me. I told you to stay beneath the clouds. I told you not to climb. They have nothing to offer you. Their promises are false. Their gifts are curses. Their magic is twisted and dark. Your wife and daughter will stay dead in all the ways that matter, despite what they say.

And yet, you keep climbing. You made it to this mountain top. You see the doorway that separates the world from their prison. And so I leave this note. One final warning. Do not enter their domain. Do not—

—

I crumbled the parchment in my hand and pushed open the door.

Place holder title

“Chain-bringer” The Dragon rumbled in my mind. “I sense the souls of two of my kind, approaching in the west.” I let out a foul oath. So much for going unnoticed. The cool air blew my hair backwards as Ank’ell flew me and my crew over the landscape with impossible speed.

“How many men are they bringing?” The dragon thought on it. An’kell was vastly intelligent, but not quick.

“I cannot detect the man souls from here, their light is too dim. But the souls of my brothers burn much less brightly than mine, they are perhaps half of my size.” That was at least a piece of good news. An’kell was large enough for a crew of 1,500 and a whole squadron of drakes. The smaller dragons would have much less crew, but would me more mobile. We couldn’t afford to get caught in a drawn-out fight behind enemy lines. I gestured to my first mate.

“Tayn, ready the harpoons and riders. Two dragons approach from the east. Deploy the soul decoy directly beneath us, and cloak Ank’ell’s soul. Prepare the men to board.” In a perfect world, their first test of the decoy soul would have been under less dangerous circumstances, but if it worked, the element of surprise could allow them to decimate the crew and capture the dragons quickly and easily.

“Ankel” I thought within my mind.

“Yes, Chain-bringer.” He responded. He had been soul bound to me in accordance to the blood pact his ancestors had sworn centuries ago.

“Ascend to just beneath the cloud level, do not ascend above that point, that would risk being too visible.  He grumbled his ascent and the vast creature began to ascend. His vast wings were outstretched, but did not flap to rise. The dragons seemed to view the law of gravity as a mere suggestion. Watching a thousand men swarm over the platforms built on the great beast filled me with a sense of awe, as it always did. How had we defeated and enslaved these vast creatures, the old ones were the size of a city. The platforms had been drilled into the monster’s thick scales, apparently he couldn’t feel anything until it was several feet deep in his iron like hide.

“Your decoy soul and soul cloaker are working, it seems to me that my soul is beneath me by several thousand feet. It seems like it’s working, but I do not like it.” The beast trailed off there. Most captains wouldn’t care what their dragon did or did not like. These were the great beasts that had almost killed all their ancestors, and they were soul-bound to obey every word their captain said. Still, it seemed to intelligent to just treat like a horse or wild animal. And Ank’ell’s ancestors had warred with humans, not him.

“Does it cause you great pain, or can you bear it?” I could compel him to suffer it either way, but it didn’t feel right .

“It is not pain, chain-bringer, it is …” The great dragon paused. “It feels like I am being separated from something.. He paused “Chain bringer!” He exclaimed “There are no humans aboard my brothers that approach us.”

“No humans, that’s impossible, that would make those dragons-” I paused as my blood froze. Unbound. It would make them unbound. I had heard rumors of dragons freeing themselves of the soul-pact, but by the gods, I thought there was no way they could be true.

“They speak to me, Chain-Bringer. They think to free me. WE must run.” No. Running wasn’t an option. But blast it, unbound dragons were the stuff of legend, how was he supposed to fight that.

“No, Ank’ell, we stay.” Ank’ell let out a low whine in the back of my mind.

“The soul decoy has opened me up to them, Chain-bringer, this was a mistake. We must run.” I swore. I looked out at my men, the harpoons were manned and the boarding ropes were readied. Blast it all.

“No we stay.” AS soon as I uttered it green flame erupted across the platforms. The wood and metal platform the size of a city block that had been set up around Ank’ells shoulders were blown into nothing. I swore, how had they found us, how had we not found them. Chaos erupted as my men responded to the flame. I ran to join my first officer and bellow commands when I felt the whole structure lurch upwards. Ank’ell we ascending. We cleared the clouds and cool moonlight fell upon us. I yelled at my men and got them ready to fight the dragons as something occurred to me.

“Ank’ell” I whispered within myself. “I told you to stay within the clouds. How could you disobey me? That should be impossible. ”’

“The attempt to cloak my soul has freed me from the soul pact, chain bringer. That is what happened with the dragons who approached us.” Terror coursed through me. Me and all my men were on a recently freed slave the size of a city who may not be too happy about the situation.

“I sense your worry, Human.” It was the first time he called me something other than chain bringer. “Worry not, I am still with you. You have treated me as an equal like other masters never did. I go with you and your men.”

“What will this mean, ank’ell.” Dragons were not supposed to be freed.

“I don’t know human. But whatever it brings, I will shield you and your men.” The clouds turned to a blur as ankell sped us away. “Though, I suspect we will have to revisit the specifics of the chain of command.” He said with a joy I hadn’t heard from him before

The Fallen

Calmly, I walked over to the fallen Engeal. Even from several feet away, the smell of charred features filled my nostrils with a putrid smoke. A few that had fallen off crunch like autumn leaves under my step. The only good part about the smell was that it meant I was in no rush, it meant that I had once again won.

Above the Clouds

“I told you to stay beneath the clouds.”

His tone never soft, his words always loud

A stern man, stiff lipped and proud

I listened quietly, never made a sound

A survivor, he had survived Her.

So I listened.

Yet after our talks, when his back was turned

I’d sit on our roof, my heart would yearn,

Through the clouds of ash that burned

Smoke and fire that above us turned.

People often spoke, of a city that floats,

Ivory towers glisten.

He didn’t believe, he wouldn’t hear it

I built a glider, he wouldn’t go near it

I built an engine, he wouldn’t steer it

He looked at the sky, I knew he feared it.

So when he wouldn’t trust, I had him trussed

Tied him to the mizzen.

I turned the key, we heard a roar

The engine jumped, the glider soared

The flames roiled, the smoke poured

I pushed through the sky, heaven I implored.

When at last we crested the ash

All we saw was mist and…

In the sky a shining silvery stone

Ivory towers and shining domes

 A white city floating alone

Above a ruined world, our new home

Now daily my father will thank me,

For not having listened.

Into Every Life, a Little Rain Must Fall

Douglas was so excited, though that’s not really saying much. Douglas was usually excited. With a pretty severe case of ADHD, Douglas was what you would call high strung. He was “that” kid who couldn’t keep his hands to himself, respect anyone personal space, or stay quiet. Though he was clever, imaginative, and funny, few gave him a chance to prove it. He was always in trouble at school, home, or even on the playground. 

None of that mattered to Douglass most days and even less today because Friday night he would be making his first stage appearance in the annual third grade play. He was going to play a raindrop  and be was determined to be the best and wettest ever. 

The teacher felt it best to give him small, manufactured role towards the back corner of the stage since there  was less chance of something going wrong. His job was to sway back and forth under a large storm cloud. He had no lines, little movement, and no spotlight. Easy Peasy. 

Well, Douglas, of course, wasn’t having it. 

Finally the big night arrived. The stage was beautifully set by the 3rd grades mom attempting to outdo each other making sure that the decorations, costumes and props were top shelf. The audience was filled to overflow with families and their cameras aimed at the stage.

On the night of the big play, Douglas had comfortably stashed his water bottle under his raindrop costume. When the lightening sounded, (his cue) he jumped up and ran from student to student as he filled his mouth from his water bottle and sprayed everyone in his path. Kids were slipping on the water, crying because their makeup was running from the spew, and screaming something about cooties. Douglas knew he had everyone’s attention and he was in his element. 

 During the intermission Mrs. Jacobs took Douglas aside. “I told you to stay beneath the clouds.”  

“But I’m a raindrop. Raindrops are wet. See?” He said as he momentarily lowered his face to the neckline of his costume, gathered his ammo, and spewed water on her face. Mrs. Jacobs wiped her face wearily. She confiscated his water bottle and sent him back for the second half. Two more years to retirement, two more years to retirement, she chanted to no one in particular. 

Douglas ran back to the stage and quickly grabbed the second water bottle and straw combo he had stashed behind the back curtain. Act two was starting and the show must go on.

Morning Promises

All that exists, has existed, and will ever exist sits before you. Beasts can be hunted, fish can be caught, berries can be gathered. Villages, towns, cities can be built out of the rocks, trees, and dirt. Gold can be mined, melted, and formed into coins-silk harvested and spun. Trades can be made, alliances formed, kings worshipped and obeyed. Pleasures can be sought and exploited according to your every whim. Power can be accumulated until your fellow men fear your very name. But that is all. That is all there will ever be. Once steel runs you through or your health fails you, you end. This earth is all there is.

So why do you look heavenward? What are you seeking? Why do you raise your voices in praise of some strange being? Why do you urge others to do the same? Why do their eyes change once they do? Why do they bind themselves to promises and obligations? Why do they foolishly squander influence, power, and money after gazing into the sky? I told you to stay beneath the clouds, child of man. Do not favor Him over me. Why seek ye treasures of the heavens when I can give you treasures of the earth?