A Holiday Journey 11

Chris saw an Ambassador police car parked outside the donut shop.  He saw the dress shop, the hardware, the bakery, the butcher, and a very big toy shop.  He had another thought.  “That was a time machine and we went back to 1957.”

“No,” Plum laughed.  “Middleton is not reached by time travel, though the town is stuck somewhere in the early sixties.  I always figured about 1965 or 66.”

Chris stopped.  Plum bumped into him for not watching where he was going.  Mary let go of Chris’ arm and looked worried.  Roy got their attention.

“It is getting late.  We better get rooms before we eat.”

“Lilly came this way.” Mary said as a statement to Chris, but her voice made it enough like a question for Plum to answer.

“She did. We are certain about that.  Roy and I will have to spend the night detecting to figure out where she went from here.  But she certainly came here, so we are on the right path.”

No telling what Chris thought.

Everyone stared at Chris, to make the decision.  He pointed as he spoke.  “So, we get rooms at the Holiday Motel before we eat at the Yuletide Diner.”  Everyone breathed, and Roy started walking.  They followed, but Chris had not finished speaking. “Then I think you all have some explaining to do,” he said, with an especially sharp look at Mary.

The diner looked like a train car right out of the 1960s.  They had a speaker with a volume control at each booth for whatever might be playing on the jukebox.  Chris turned the speaker off when he looked at the menu.  There were enough speakers in the place turned on, so he did not need it blasting in his ear.  Chris sat on the outside with Mary next to him, while Plum squeezed Roy up to the window on the other side.

“The french-fries here are really good,” Plum said, before he swallowed.  Maybe he should not have said that.  He got busy with the menu.

Chris gave him a hard look and got ready to ask a question, but he got interrupted.

The waitress, in a green uniform with a red apron, and a silver and gold bell lapel pin that jingled every time she moved, brought waters in hard plastic red cups and asked if they were ready to order.

“Sure,” Chris said.  “I’ll have the turkey and stuffing.  Mashed potatoes and…” he looked at Mary.

“Green beans,” Mary said.

“Green beans.” Chris said, and shrugged.

“I’ll have the same thing,” Mary agreed and handed the menus to the waitress.

“You want gravy on your potatoes?” the waitress asked.

Chris and Mary said, “Yes” at the same time.

“Gravy on everything,” Mary said.

“Except the green beans,” Chris countered.

“Except the green beans,” Mary nodded.

“And coffee,” Chris added.

“Yes, coffee, please,” Mary agreed, and looked around the diner, being uncomfortable under Chris’ stare.  Roy and Plum ordered, and then they had to wait.  Elvis finished on the jukebox, and Gene Autry came on, singing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.  Roy looked out the window, being next to it.   Plum twirled his fork, and looked ready to whistle along with the music. Mary found something fascinating about the couple two booths down and across the aisle.  At least she stared in that direction, effectively taking her attention away from Chris’ eyes.  Chris thought of all sorts of things to say, but only one thing bothered him.

“So, where is Lilly?”

“We honestly don’t know where she may be at this point,” Plum spoke right up.

“But you have been to this place before.  You said they have good fries here.”

“Yes, yes,” Plum admitted.  “I’ve been to places further on, too, a bit.  The thing is, we don’t know which way she may have gone from here.”

Chris turned to Mary.  “1965?” he asked her.  Mary shrugged, but looked nervous.  She bit her lip, but decided for the sake of her feelings for Chris, she had to tell the truth, even if she did not have to tell everything just yet.

“It is Christmas eve here, and tomorrow will be Christmas day, even though back at the apartment it is still a week before Christmas.  I don’t know how it works, but I know that is true.  The motel diner will be open tomorrow so we can get breakfast, but after that we will have to depend on these two…fine gentlemen to lead the way.  As far as Lilly goes, you know what I know, and I am as worried about her as you are, but we have to believe she is fine and well.”

The waitress came with supper, and Chris paused in his questions, though he did not stop staring at the three while everyone ate.

Chris had a lot to digest beyond the turkey and dressing, which tasted good.  He had been hungry, but now, as he satisfied that hunger, he began to think again about what he was doing, where he was, and when he was.  It did not make any sense.  They left his apartment on Monday morning, a full week before Christmas.  He had every hope of finding Lilly safe and sound before Christmas.  But Mary said they were in 1965, or 66.  And even if they were actually still in regular time, she said it was Christmas Eve, like he lost a whole week of time.  That did not make any sense.

The waitress came to fil their coffee cups, and he asked.  “So, this is Christmas Eve…”  He let his voice trail off and tried to sound casual about it.

“That’s right,” the waitress said, with a smile.  “You expecting something special under the tree tomorrow?”  She smiled harder, like she thought that might be a good idea.  “Merry Christmas,” she said, and left.

Chris stared at Plum who picked at his food.  Mary stared at him with her big eyes, but said nothing.  Chris ignored them and focused on his food, as Roy turned on the speaker.

 

Cue: White Christmas

Bing Crosby (1942) Original Version

 

Chris considered when they left the minister, not much more than an hour ago. The police car with the flashing lights made plenty of noise when it arrived.  He went through what looked like a back door to a warehouse—maybe a six-story building.  The sound, flashing lights, and everything cut off instantly.  He stepped through a room not much bigger than a walk-in closet, and came out in this place, where the white snow made deep piles beside the well plowed road, and the old winter trees stood as tall or taller than any of the buildings.  He looked back and saw no sign of a six-story warehouse, much less the eight to twelve-story apartment and office buildings that filled the previous area.  More than that, he heard nothing.  The traffic and general sound of people on that busy street should have been obvious, even a block away.

Chris looked at Mary, and she quickly turned her eyes to her nearly empty plate. He said something she did not expect. “Apple pie?”

Mary looked up, her face trying to smile, but looked ready to cry any moment. “Yes, please,” she said.

Chris got the waitress and ordered.  Fat Plum wanted Figgie pudding.  Tall and skinny Roy stayed away from the sugar. With one last hard look at his companions, Chris explained.

“The important thing is to find Lilly, safe and sound.”  He looked away, though the others all stared at him, like the condemned, awaiting their sentence.  “For some reason, you people seem to know where she is, or at least where she is headed. I figure, if the only way to reach her is to follow you, then that is what I must do, no matter how strange the journey gets.  You said a week.”

“Maybe not so long,” Mary interrupted, and immediately covered her mouth and quieted.

Avalon 9.12 Home, part 2 of 4

The travelers kept walking, while people raced toward them in golf carts and on foot.  Lockhart and Lincoln both saw familiar faces.  Katie brought Sukki to walk between herself and Lockhart having recognized the girl’s discomfort with all these new people.  Katie did manage a question before the people showed up.

“Mister Smith?”

“The alien Zalanid,” Lockhart said.  “He used to speak for the Kargill who does not appear to be on Earth at the moment.  We borrowed him and the Kargill ship when we dealt with the Vordan.”

“You remember,” Sukki said.  “Mister Smith was the alien visitor in Elizabeth’s day.”

Katie remembered.  “Still alive?”

“He sleeps a lot.  Suspended animation, er, cryogenic sleep.”

Katie nodded as the golf carts arrived.

Lockhart got plenty of hugs and handshakes and did his best to introduce people to his wife and daughter.  Lincoln got mobbed before his wife Alexis arrived.  She threw herself into his arms and cried a little between kisses.  Her father passed away shortly after she and Boston came home.

“He looked at me in my elf form and said he was satisfied.  At least his daughter would not die before him,” Alexis said, and sniffled.  “After he died, Alice made me human again, and I waited and worried for you.”

“I’m here now.”  Lincoln did his best to hold her and comfort her.

Katie smiled and shook plenty of hands.  She decided she would have to make a list of everyone’s names, and she looked forward to getting to know these people.  She was especially curious about the two marines, Staff Sergeant Miriam Haddad, who called herself a secretary and chief file clerk, and Sergeant Major Don Thomas who helped run the security group.  They both saluted her and called her Lieutenant Colonel, though she was not in uniform.

“Yes,” the sergeant major said.  “Miriam and I came here with Brigadier General Weber five years ago during the Vordan incident.  The Kairos said at the time I was in over my head. I still am.”

“So am I,” Lockhart interjected and put one hand on Katie’s shoulder.  “The lieutenant colonel is my wife, and did you meet our daughter, Sukki.”

Sukki smiled briefly through her discomfort before she got distracted.  Boston came racing up, faster than any human could run, and she yelled.

“Sister.”

Boston and Sukki hugged and cried tears that were both happy and sad.  Boston’s husband Roland stood back and smiled for the girls, but he also kept one eye on his sister, Alexis.  He also felt some of her sorrow over the loss of their father Mingus.  Father said he was pleased with Boston.  He said she was a good wife and everything an elf maiden should be.  He said he was satisfied that Roland finally grew up.  Roland was not sure about that.  He loved his wife, Boston, and maybe someday they would have a child of their own.  Maybe that was something like being grown-up, sort of.

Ms. Roberta Brooks—Bobbi, the director of the Men in Black hobbled down from the golf cart.  She had aged in the last five years.  She looked seventy.  She limped and pointed to her legs.  “Blocked arteries,” she said with a grin.  “Just like the Storyteller.”  She grabbed Lockhart for a big hug and complained.  “It isn’t entirely fair.  You get your legs back and get out of that wheelchair, and then you get to be young again.  But I understand.”  She let go and took a step back.  “My compensation is giving you all the hassles and headaches of this organization while I get to retire.  Come.  Bring your wife and daughter.  Let’s go up to the big house.”

Bobbi got back in the golf cart and moaned a bit because of her knees.  She patted the seat beside her for Lockhart. Katie and Sukki got in the back while Roland and Boston went to walk with Lincoln and Alexis.  Bobbi said one more thing as she paused to rub and warm her hands before she began to drive.  “Did you pick Christmas Eve on purpose?  It is cold.”

They all went straight to the cafeteria where the cooks had prepared a big brunch.  They had everything from apples to zucchini.  Katie got some eggs, bacon, and toast.  Lockhart stuck with the roast beef, though he took a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to have on the side.  He also filled the biggest mug he could find with coffee and said, “At last.”  Honestly, he had coffee with Casidy, and in Doctor Mishka’s Hollywood, but there seemed to be some principle involved.  Sukki tried to eat a bit of everything.  Many items were new to her.  She did tend to hang out at the desert table.  She swore after that she was going to have a chocolate eclair every morning for breakfast, or maybe some chocolate donuts.

When people were fed and the room settled down into small, soft conversations, Alice arrived in a flash of light that got everyone’s attention.  “I cannot stay long in this place,” she said.  “Sorry for the interruption, but we have business to attend.”  She looked at Bobbi.  “Do you have the box?”

Bobbi nodded and turned to a man at the next table, the lawyers table.  Alice Summers, the woman who designed the peace treaty with the Vordan handed a small box across the table to the man nearest Bobbi.  He handed it across the aisle, but Lockhart raised his eyebrows.  He did not know the man.  Back when Boston pushed him around in a wheelchair, and he was the assistant director, he made a point of getting to know everyone in the building.  Bobbi, who did not notice Lockhart’s reaction, said, “Thank you Gilbert.”  She turned to Katie.  “I believe you need to be in dress uniform for this.”  Then she stood with a minimum of groans and brought the box to Alice.

Katie stood and adjusted her fairy weave clothing to make it appear like a marine full-dress uniform.  Some of the people gasped to see the clothing change in size, shape, texture, and color, though some were still blinking from the appearance of Alice.  Katie stepped forward and had an idea what this was about.

Lady Alice opened the box and pulled out two silver oak leaves, the insignia of a lieutenant colonel.  She spoke first.  “Decker saved these, and they have been kept in the director’s office for the last hundred years.  Jax handed them to Bobbi when he retired along with the hatchet of Lars, the symbol of the North American director.  The oak leaves belong to you.  All of the appropriate papers are on file here and at the Pentagon, but I get the honor of pinning them on.”  Alice did so, and Katie saluted.  Alice returned the salute and put the major’s insignia in the box for safe keeping.  She turned to the gathering as Bobbi retrieved the other artifact from Ms. Summers.

“Lieutenant Colonel Lockhart will head the archeology and anthropology department. She will work out of the Pentagon and the Smithsonian where she will be able to keep tabs on North American activities.  Now, Robert, would you please come up front.”

Lockhart stood and came to stand beside his wife.  Alice took a step back and Bobbi stepped forward.  “Robert Lockhart,” Bobbi said, and she made him take the oath of office right there.  She took the tomahawk, which it was, and handed it to Lockhart, saying, “The claw of the eagle has now passed to the next generation.  Stay true to the Charter.  Uphold the Code of Establishment.  Keep your eyes and ears open.  Do not let down your guard or neglect the watch for the sake of the whole human race.  May peace and quiet be yours throughout your time of service.”

“Not likely,” Lockhart whispered.

“That is just what I said,” Bobbi returned the whisper.

Alice clapped, so everyone did, but she quickly held up her hand for silence.  “Now, we have some cameras and five-years’ worth of recordings to lock up.  Katie, would you fetch the records?”  She watched and waited patiently.

Katie went straight to her backpack and found it improperly tied. She opened it and saw the recording discs were gone.  She shouted.  “Nobody move.  The discs are missing.”