A Fantastic Holiday Season: The Gift of Stories (9 page)

Jimmy almost leapt out of the sack.

“Ceres!” he said.

Nick merely kept manipulating his control holographs, and the view shifted dramatically as Nick’s sleigh zoomed down to the surface of the asteroid at an improbable speed. There was barely any sound, other than a variably-pitched humming that seemed to correspond with the sleigh’s motion through space. Eventually the sleigh came to rest on a pad not too unlike the one back at Olympus Mons, and Nick looked down at Jimmy as Jimmy sat perched in Nick’s sack.

“Ready to go home?”

“Yes! Yes!” Jimmy said, almost jumping up and down on the heap of gifts that had been cushioning him during the ride.

“Okay then, I have to close the sack back up,” Nick said.

Jimmy nodded eagerly, then held his breath for an instant while Nick shut the mouth of the sack tight. Again Jimmy felt himself being lifted, hefted, and carried. To eventually be set down on a flat surface some time later, after passing through what sounded like—in the muffled confines of the sack—several airlock cycles.

Jimmy practically burst out of the sack when next Astronaut Nick opened it.

They’d landed on the pad nearest to where Jimmy’s quarters had been—he knew this part of Ceres well enough that he probably could have walked through it blindfolded. As on Mars, there were no adults, nor even any children. Jimmy reveled in the miniscule gravity, and somersaulted his way down one of the corridors, whooping with joy at the freedom of his movements. No more clunky, plodding steps. Jimmy soared like a bird, artfully pushing off here and there as his toes and fingertips made contact. Given time, he’d have gradually settled to the deck. But on Ceres, even children possessed the strength of men, and Jimmy celebrated his return with an unselfconscious display of microgravity acrobatics that would have done any seasoned spacer proud.

Astronaut Nick trailed behind, his helmet off and clipped to a tether at his waist, while he towed his large sack of presents from another tether. Nick’s movements were much more reserved, but no less deft. He kept pace with Jimmy despite Jimmy’s headlong rush for home.

Finally, they arrived at the hatchway to Jimmy’s parents’ quarters. Jimmy slapped his hand on the palm reader and laughed as the door slid open, allowing Jimmy to spring inside and carom off one of the walls. They had a spectacular star roof which had been left open, allowing natural light to flood in through the centimeters-thick, ultraviolet-blocking vacuum glass.

Nick floated in behind Jimmy, and the hatch snapped shut.

Jimmy gradually came to rest against one of the walls, and when he was done catching his breath—the exhilaration of the moment having been almost too much to stand—his brow furrowed.

“Something wrong?” Astronaut nick asked.

“No,” Jimmy said. Then thought better of himself, and admitted, “yes.”

“What’s the issue, James?” Astronaut Nick said, allowing himself to slowly sink to the deck, along with his cargo.

“This is,” Jimmy said, then stopped.

“Yes?” Nick said, a white eyebrow raised over the top of the rim for his spectacles.

“It’s home,” Jimmy said. “But … it’s not home. I don’t get it. This is where we used to live. And look at how much room there is here! We have three compartments, and that’s not even including where we sleep! But … it’s too … it’s too empty.”

“Too empty?” Astronaut Nick said, keeping an eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Jimmy admitted. “The furniture is gone, my Mom’s paintings aren’t on the wall, Dad’s Wall Ball trophy isn’t over in the corner in its case, and there isn’t the smell of bread baking in the bread maker.”

“Well, of course,” Astronaut Nick said. “Your request was pretty clear. You said you wanted to go back to Ceres—that you wanted to go
home.
So, here we are. This is home.”

“But it’s … it’s not the same!” Jimmy said, feeling more and more uneasy with each passing moment. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I wanted to come
home
to the way things were before we left! I wanted it to be just like it used to be. I don’t want to be stuck here with a bunch of empty rooms!”

“So you want to go back to Mars?” Astronaut Nick asked.

“No!” Jimmy blurted. “I never want to go back there! I hate it at Olympus Mons!”

Astronaut Nick breathed deeply, and then sighed.

“Well,” the man in the red and white space suit said, “you’d better get used to living by yourself. You won’t have your family here to take care of you. Some of your old friends are present, but then, it’s been awhile since you left, and some of your old friends have moved on as well. There are other colonies in the solar system, you know. Not everybody gets to stay in the same place. In fact, most people don’t.”

Jimmy stared up through the star roof, his eyes beginning to brim with tears. He’d dreamt of this moment for so long, and now that he was finally getting to have his wish, he was realizing that maybe what he’d wished for, wasn’t going to be possible after all? No matter if Astronaut Nick was real, and could perform spaceflight miracles.

“You know,” Astronaut Nick said, “it’s really not too late for me to get you back to Mars. If we’re quick about it, we might even get you back in time for you to crawl into bed before your parents know you’re gone. That thing you feel in your stomach right now—the
sadness
—just think how your mother and father will feel when they wake up and you’ve gone, James. They won’t know where you are or what’s happened to you. There isn’t even a note to tell them.”

Jimmy felt his throat close up. He wrapped himself into a ball on the floor of his empty, silent former home, and began to cry.

Eventually he felt a strong hand touch his shoulder. Astronaut Nick’s voice was calm, deep, and gentle.

“James,” he said, “I’ve given a lot of boys and girls their wishes over the years. Not every wish is always meant to work out the way you think it should work out. Now, I’ll ask you one more time—yes or no—do you want to stay here on Ceres?”

Jimmy held his arms across his chest, not looking at anything. His eyes were shut tight, and the liquid that spilled from them was hot.

“I want it to be like it was,” he sobbed, his nose stuffed up. “I want my old life back!”

“I know,” Astronaut Nick said, maintaining his firm grip on Jimmy’s shoulder, “but one of the things you’re going to learn quickly as you get older, is that things are always changing. You will always remember how wonderful the past was—and these memories will be like treasure in your heart. But there isn’t any way to go back. Not really. Because
you
will change too. The you that used to live here, he’s already gone. There’s a new you waiting to come to life, at Olympus Mons. If you’ll stop being stubborn, and let it happen.”

“Nobody likes me there,” Jimmy sniffed. “They all think I’m a stupid, clumsy klutz.”

“Nobody?” Astronaut Nick said, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Don’t be too sure about that. Let me read you something I got in my e-mail not long before I came to visit you.”

Jimmy vaguely sensed Astronaut Nick rummaging for something in a pouch strapped to his thick, red-colored leg. He brought out a small touch pad and used his thickly-gloved fingers to deftly slide and tap along the pad’s surface, until a white screen with text on it glowed up into Nick’s old face.

“Let’s see, this comes from someone named Contessa Canfield—a classmate of yours if I am not mistaken. I’d been expecting her to ask for a set of super blocks building modules, which she’s been dying for since her birthday, but you know what she asked for instead? Let me read this. She said:
Dear Nick, please help Jimmy Carrico to be happy. He’s my new friend at school and no matter what I do I can’t cheer him up. Not even telling him about you makes him smile. I’ll give up anything you were going to bring me this year if you can find a way to help Jimmy be happy. Thanks, Tessa.
”

Jimmy sat in stunned silence, his tears momentarily forgotten.

“Tessa wrote that?” he mumbled.

“She did,” Astronaut Nick said, turning off the pad and sliding it back into the pouch on his leg; then zipping the pouch closed.

Jimmy raised his head and stared up at Nick.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to Mars, James? Seems there’s more than two people who’ll miss you an awful lot if you’re not there to see them tomorrow. Any girl who’d give up presents in the hope that she could bring joy to a new friend, is someone I’d say is worth keeping by your side. Not many children grasp the true meaning of Christmas. I think Tessa is one of them.”

Jimmy felt a new lump form in his throat. He debated his choices, staring around him at the barren walls of his former house.

“But it’s still going to be so hard,” he said forlornly.

“Yes,” Astronaut Nick said, “but that’s also something you’re going to have to get used to. Just as your Mom and Dad got used to it. Just as every adult gets used to it. But just because something is hard, doesn’t mean you won’t ever be happy. In fact, you just might find that the harder something is, once you get through it, the happier you can be on the other side. Because happiness isn’t a time or a place, James. Happiness is in
here.”

Astronaut Nick’s stubby, gloved index finger tapped Jimmy’s chest.

“It’s also in the other souls with whom you share this universe. You’re not old enough yet to really understand, but someday very soon, I think you will. You just have to trust an old man to know what’s he’s talking about. Can you do that?”

Jimmy’s eyes leaked new tears, but he nodded his head stiffly.

“Yeah,” Jimmy snuffled, “okay, I think I get it. Maybe. Mom, Dad, Tessa, I don’t want them to be sad. And they’d be sad if I was gone. And now that I’m here, I am realizing
here
is gone too.”

Astronaut Nick said nothing, he merely squeezed Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Take me back to Mars, please,” Jimmy said.

Nick wordlessly opened his sack, and let Jimmy crawl in.

Sunlight.

A new day.

Jimmy rolled out of his bunk and came to rest lightly on his feet, his balance a bit unsteady. He’d spent much of the night enjoying Ceres’ gravity. Being suddenly back in Mars gravity was unsettling. But also, strangely, for the very first time, comforting too.

As if on cue, Mom’s head poked into the compartment.

“James, dear,” she said, smiling, “wake up and come see! It’s magic!”

Jimmy pulled himself up and walked—thud-footed—out of his chamber and into the family living and dining area. The heady smell of freshly-baked bread hit his nose, and Dad had put some music on the surround sound speakers. Something cheerful, with bells in it. A tune Jimmy suspected he’d heard before, but couldn’t quite place.

“Good morning, Jim,” Dad said, perched over by the bubble window. “You really should come see this.”

Jimmy walked slowly over and then leaned into the window, his eyes scanning about.

There were space-suited figures wandering around outside. Adults and children alike. A thick blanket of white fluff covered the ground to a depth of several centimeters. One of the adults was wadding a packet of the snow in her hands, then playfully flung it at one of the children. Promptly, all of the children stooped to collect snowballs of their own, and almost immediately a spectacular multi-target barrage of hurled projectiles ensued.

One of the children saw Jimmy and his parents looking out through their bubble. The space-suited child loped over to stand at the window.

Tessa waved at Jimmy, and Jimmy—cracking a wide grin—waved back.

“You ought to go out with them,” Dad urged with a smile.

“Can I?” Jimmy said enthusiastically, his head rapidly clearing.

“I don’t know,” Mom said, suddenly getting a better look at Jimmy in the morning light. “Your eyes are puffy and it looks like you’ve been crying. Do you have a cold?”

“I’m okay,” Jimmy said. “Really. I’m alright. Let me go rinse up and use the latrine, and I’ll be fine.

“Well … okay,” Mom said.

Five minutes later, Jimmy was at the same observation dome where he’d stood the night before—or
thought
he’d stood the night before, when Astronaut Nick had first made his acquaintance. Ten minutes after that, Jimmy was outside in a suit of his own, running in the kangaroo-hop fashion all the other children had learned to adopt since coming to Mars, until he too was engaged in the great snowball war which had come to the slopes of Olympus Mons.

When things quieted down, Tessa and Jimmy found themselves paired off and walking over to the landing pad where the big shuttles ordinarily touched down.

Jimmy hadn’t dared speak a word of his experience to his new friend. He wasn’t sure she’d believe him—because he wasn’t sure
he’d
believe him, either. The memory of the prior night was already becoming soft around the edges, and tinged with the flavor of dreams. Of course it wasn’t possible that Jimmy had actually ridden in a hyperspace sleigh back to Ceres, when the journey from Ceres to Mars, and vice versa, ordinarily took weeks. Even when Ceres and Mars were closest to each other in their orbits around the sun.

But then Tessa pointed to something up on the pad.

She and Jimmy loped up to see what it was. They found what appeared to be a large, green-and-red, striped stocking, containing numerous thin, red-and-white striped sticks, each wrapped in plastic. There was a little colorful hand-written tag attached to the stocking that said:
For Contessa and James, soon-to-be best friends. Merry Christmas, Nick.

“Do you really think—?” Jimmy said, awed by the note.

“Yes, I really do!” Tessa said with hushed reverence.

They passed the gift stocking between them, examining the solidly tangible feeling of the candy canes between their gloved feelings.

“Nobody will believe us,” Jimmy said, smiling.

“They don’t have to,” Tessa said. “Right?”

Jimmy thought about it, then laughed out loud and said, “Right.”

***