An Awakening of Hope: The Book
by Alias
E-mail: [email protected]
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Disclaimer: Characters belong to CBS and Trilogy. "A Christmas
Carol" belongs to whoever owns the copyright to Dickens’s stuff(you
think I know that?) Not getting paid. Don’t have permission, etc., etc.
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He hated Christmas. At least, he hated it now. Once…once he had
loved Christmas. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel that
first Christmas with Sarah, still see the way her eyes had lit when
she had opened the music box, still hear her soft voice as she read
the words he had carved on the lid, the very same words he had said to
her at their wedding, just a few months before. And he could smell
the roses that she always smelled of, and he could remember his had
over her womb, trying to feel the stirrings of the unborn child she
had told him of that morning through the green satin.
And then, in the next moment, he remembered that first Christmas
without her, without the little boy who they had loved so much,
remembered the baby who should have drawn its first breath a mere two
months before. Remembered waking up in a room with the reek of
whiskey in the air, and the arm of a woman he didn’t know draped
across his chest, for the first time in a long, long time. Yeah, he
hated Christmas, almost as much as he hated himself.
Chris peered out the window of his hotel room, watching the citizens
of Four Corners pass below him, hurriedly getting everything they
needed but had forgotten earlier in the week in preparation for
Christmas dinner the next night, and buying gifts they had forgotten
to buy.
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"Mrs. Travis-"
Mary smiled at the woman walking alongside her. "Please, call me Mary."
Terry Greer returned the smile. "Mary then. I’d just like to thank
you, for inviting Olivia and I to have Christmas dinner with you and
your son."
"You’re more than welcome, its always good to have people around for
Christmas."
Olivia, who, along with Billy Travis, had been walking a few feet in
front of them, tugged at Mary’s arm.
"Yes?"
"Will Buck be there to?"
"And Chris!" Billy piped in.
"Mr. Wilmington will be there, as will most of the other men, but…"
Mary paused, not knowing how to tell her son that his hero had
wouldn’t be there. When she had asked him if he would like to attend
earlier that week, he had staunchly refused her invitation, and had
made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with Christmas. In fact,
his attitude had been so dark this past week, she wasn’t sure she
wanted him around anyway. "Chris won’t be there."
"Why not?" Billy asked.
"I think he prefers to be alone on Christmas."
"But what’s the point of Christmas if you’re alone?"
Olivia tapped Billy on the shoulder and pointed to a figure across the
street.
"There he is, lets ask him if he’ll come, maybe he’s changed his mind."
"Ok. Can we Mom?"
"Please Mama." Olivia simultaneously implored her mother.
"I suppose. If Billy can go."
Olivia turned to Mary.
"Please Mrs. Travis."
"Okay, but if he says no, don’t keep asking him."
"We won’t!" They called out as they ran across the street towards
Chris.
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Chris suppressed his groan when he saw Olivia and Billy runninh
towards him, their mothers watching from across the street.
"Will you come to Christmas dinner?" They simultaneously burst out as
they reached him.
"I’can’t."
"Why not?" Billy asked.
Because he would rather block his memories, block the pain, with a
bottle of whiskey than pretend that Christmas was a happy time, but he
couldn’t tell them that, just like he couldn’t tell them that the only
reason he’d left his room was to get more whiskey.
"Well, there you two are!" All three turned to see Buck coming down
the street towards them, closely followed by J.D. Buck knelt down and
wrapped his arms conspiratorially around Billy and Olivia’s shoulders.
"I’m in serious trouble, and I need you two to help me."
"How?" Billy asked, and "What kind of trouble?" from Olivia.
"Well, your lovely mothers need Christmas gifts, and I don’t have the
slightest idea what to get them."
"How can we help?" Olivia asked.
"well, you can help me find them gifts. Think you could do that for
ol’ Buck?"
"Sure." "Uh huh."
"Good. Go tell your mothers that you’ll be with me, okay?"
"Okay."
"Wait wait wait." He grabbed them as they started to leave. "Don’t
tell them why your with me, got it?"
"Uh huh." Billy said.
"Can we go now?" Olivia asked.
"Sure thing." They ran off to talk to their mothers, and Buck stood
to face Chris, and J.D. watched the kids cross the street, hoping they
wouldn’t get run over by a wagon, since they weren’t paying attention.
"Don’t start." Chris said before Buck could open his mouth.
"Do you know how badly that kid wants you to be there, how happy it’d
make him?"
"I know, but-."
"And you still aren’t coming?"
"No, I’m not."
"Why?"
"Last thing those kids need is having me around for Christmas dinner,
bringing everyone down."
"Okay Buck!" Olivia’s shout stopped any response that Buck would have
made.
"Great!! And you didn’t tell them why I need you two?" The two
earnestly shook their heads in denial. "Perfect. Now, Olivia, before
we go anywhere, can I hold your box for you?" They started walking
down the street.
"Why?"
"So…ah…well, a pretty girl like yourself shouldn’t have to burden her
arms with it."
"No."
"Why not?"
"It’s my box."
"I just want to hold it for a little while, that’s all."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Give me the box."
"NO!"
Chris caught J.D. looking at him.
"What?"
"Nothing." J.D. replied, "Nothing at all."
Chris watched as J.D. followed the others. Kid didn’t understand,
none of them did, not even Buck, not anymore at least.
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It was thirty minutes later that he heard a knock at his door, and
opened it to see J. D. standing there, holding a book.
"Thought you might like this. It’s about a guy who actually hates
Christmas more than you do." Chris took the book from him. "I’d say
Merry Christmas, but your determined not to have one, so…"
J.D. left, and Chris glanced at the title. "A Christmas Carol, by
Charles Dickens."
He’d heard of it, was supposed to be pretty good.
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Chris closed the book and went to the window, leaving the book on the
bed. It was early afternoon, dinner would start in a few hours.
J.D. had been right, Scrooge probably had hated Christmas more than he
did, but at least he had a reason, Scrooge was just a greedy
son-of-a-bitch. And he certainly wasn’t going to four ghosts visit
him and change his life completely.
"Are you certain of that?"
Chris started at the unexpected—but somehow familiar—voice. He drew
his gun as he turned, but just barely managed to keep from dropping it
when he saw the man in front of him.
"Imala?" It WAS the Seminole. Feet firmly planted, long black hair
falling down his back, arms crossed, strong features etched with
determination.
"You’re dead." Were the only words Chris could think of to say.
"of course I’m dead, why do you think I’m here?" Chris couldn’t
think of a response, and Imala crossed to the bed and picked up the
discarded book.
"Let me guess," Chris managed to find his voice, "You’re my Marley?"
"Of a sort."
"Where are your chains? If I’m gonna dream like this, I want it to be
right."
Before Chris could react, Imala crossed to him and pinched his arm,
hard.
"Could a dream do that?"
Chris didn’t respond.
"Good, now, listen." Imala handed Chris the book. "Someone high up
happens to think that you’re worth something."
"And you’re here to tell me that I’ll be visited by three ghosts
tonight who are going to convince me to change my ways forever."
"No, just to have a little hope. And your ‘ghosts’ will be a little
closer to home than the old man’s. You have a few minutes until the
first one gets here."
"I thought I had until-"
Imala smiled. "No, you have to be through in time for dinner."
