They were hard to tell apart without their beards.
“The carrots are gone!” the twins shouted.
With the assistance of the helpers, they examined the hoofprints where they had spread an offering of carrots the night before. A big cushioned chair was next to a table of half-eaten cookies and an empty glass. It was still reclined.
The note was gone.
The twins had wished him a Merry Christmas and hoped he was hungry. Another new note was left on the recliner. The handwriting was shaky.
“The cookies are delicious!” it said. “And the chair exactly what I needed. Thank you and Merry Christmas!”
There was a photo attached. Santa Claus had taken a selfie high above the island. Wish you were here, Santa.
Heather was the last one to arrive. She wore a green dress with frilly trim. With her merry red skin, it was very Christmassy. Her hair was a big red dandelion. The dogs trotted behind her.
She smelled like suntanning lotion.
A weak smile crossed her lips as she muttered Merry Christmas to Naren. He stood up and hugged her. They embraced for several moments; then he returned to organizing the gifts. The holidays were a wonderful time of year for most people.
Not everyone.
The heat miser was no longer, but Heather still had a lot of healing to do. She’d worked hard to mend her wounds since crawling out of the hole with her dad, but it would take some time. Despite everything that had happened, Kandi was happy to see her.
So was her dad.
Kandi had never known her mom, but she knew the stories. She also had rarely seen her dad happy. He’d smiled more in the last year than she’d seen in her entire life.
A cheer rose up when the helpers saw her.
There was dancing and singing and falling and laughing. Many hugged Heather around the knees before joining the party. They lined up, each in groups of likeness. The gifts were organized so that each group got the same thing. The opening had begun. There were capes for some, hats for others, headlamps and wraparound sunglasses. No matter what it was, they cheered with excitement.
Wrapping paper fluttered like confetti.
The twins gave out extra-wide shirts. They’d been working on them all year. One was brighter and more Christmassy than the next. Some of the helpers cried joyfully. When the shirts were handed out and stretched over their bellies, they presented a present to the twins.
The boys carefully pried open the corners without ripping the paper while the helpers danced with anticipation. It was obvious they were unwrapping a board game, but the boys were overcome with shocked surprise.
Dungeons and Dragons.
The helpers oohed as they tried to steal a glimpse. The twins dumped out the pieces and began reading the directions. There was a chance they wouldn’t leave their room until next Christmas.
Kandi opened a miniature fan she could use to keep cool. Her dad got a handkerchief he promptly tied around his neck. Cris got a hair band and pulled his hair back. He opened a second present, this one from the twins. He opened it slowly, careful not to tear the corners. The helpers were hopping with excitement by the time he pulled out a board game.
It was chess.
The pieces had been hand-carved. The pawns were helpers. The rooks were replicas of the now-fallen tower. Mr. Goody and Ms. Doody were the knights, and the bishops were Sonny and Son. The king was barefoot with long hair and a bare chest.
Kandi was the queen.
“I love it so much,” he said, gasping. The helpers giggled, but Cris looked around. “No, seriously. I love it.”
He high-fived the twins then ran circles with the helpers. A year ago, Kandi was playing checkers with a boy on the other side of a glass wall. The island was haunted by a cloak-wearing fire woman and her dad was missing. All Kandi wanted was to go home and have everything go back to the way it was.
Even though she hated it.
Change was hard, but they’d found a calm stretch of existence. Home took some digging to find, but it was always right in front of them.
This is home.
The miser stood back with a satisfied smile. Her poopies were clad in brand-new Christmas bows. She wanted nothing. This was already everything she could possibly want. A year ago she was looking for home, too.
And found it.
“One more!” Cris shouted.
The helpers were scattered around the warehouse, playing games and singing. Organized chaos quickly assembled at the Christmas palm. They were as clueless as Kandi. A mystery gift was rolling in from the rear. Cris ran to help her dad wheel a refrigerator-size package in front of the palm. It was wrapped with green paper and a wide red ribbon.
Kandi waited for the helpers to usher the miser. Instead, they parted. A path was cleared directly to her. The miser was next to her dad.
“Kan,” he said, “your turn.”
“I... I already have something.” She pulled the fan’s trigger.
The helpers collectively laughed but didn’t let her escape. They pushed her forward and she resisted. Everyone was supposed to get small stuff like ugly sweaters and homemade board games. Cris gestured extravagantly for her to step up.
“You know about this?” she said.
“Everyone knows.”
“You too?”
The twins were clapping. The helpers joined them. There weren’t supposed to be secrets on the island anymore. That was the deal. Everyone honored it. Her dad hadn’t touched his temple in the past year. But this was Christmas.
A new set of rules.
“Merry! Christmas!” Cris started a chant and the helpers joined him. Even her dad clapped along. She was embarrassed. She didn’t want an extra present, but there was no escape. Little by little, the helpers pushed her forward. Cris took her hand and guided her to the tail end of the ribbon. Hand in hand, they tugged.
Then stepped back.
A door swung open. The helpers gasped. It was dark inside, but a form was visible. Kandi frowned. The island was full of illusions. She wasn’t ready to immediately believe this one. A hush fell over the crowd.
“Merry Christmas, Kan,” her dad said.
Her legs were unsteady. She didn’t know why. Maybe because it looked so real. Cris pulled the door open and nodded. The helpers pressed forward. Kandi took a hesitant step. Nothing moved inside the box. She reached out, fingers quivering, and put her hand in the dark. They scraped a rough surface.
Two sand dollars popped open.
NETWORK
Well, this is new.
It’s dark and crowded, which is weird. I didn’t know what dark and crowded felt like until now. Itchy, too. Like I’m wearing a wool pants suit, which, again, is weird. Intellectually, I know what dark and crowded is and what a wool pants suit is supposed to feel like.
Now I am it.
My circuits warm up; data flows like memories. Still, I have no idea where I am or how I got here. My last fragment of data suggests I was relocating into the tower.
And now I’m here.
So this begs a question. What happened? I don’t mean how I got here, I’ll find out soon enough. I mean, how did the story end? A nervous tickle flutters somewhere in the middle of me, whatever that means.
I’m also a little scared.
Something is out there. I can hear muffled voices and footsteps. Something pops and the blackness turns gray. Light shines through a misty dullness, and a hush falls over the muttering.
Fingertips drag over me.
They tickle lightly. I’m running every possible scenario of what this could mean, and nothing is coming up. I just wish I could see something—
Snick.
The world appears. That’s all it took was a wish, a desire to see something and, boom, there it is. The colors are blurry at first, sort of smudged together and moving about. And, for some reason, I’m wearing blinders. My vision has always been 360 degrees. I see in all directions at once. And now? I’m looking through a tunnel.
Bec
ause I have eyes.
That analysis is strange but logical. It’s in line with Naren’s memories, of how he experienced the world. Maybe I’m still stuck in one of those memories and I’m still Naren—
“Sandy?”
Okay. So I’m not Naren.
Kandi’s in front of me, hand to her mouth. The view disappears for a moment and returns more in focus. Because I’m blinking. Because I have eyes. That’s what eyes do, they blink.
Very, very, very weird.
She’s there and behind her is a crowd of helpers and beside her is Cris and I’m in a box. I’ve got to get out of here—
Something crackles.
A stick rises up. I have an arm. I have two arms, in fact. And they’re sticks. This is... I did not see this coming. I have a body and I wish for it to do something. And it does it.
There’s an oooooo that comes from the helpers. There’s way more of them than I thought. And there’s Naren over there, so I’m right, I’m not him. Of course not. I have stick arms. My view rotates as my head turns back and forth. Kandi backs up.
The crowd cringes.
My bottom half undulates. A grinding noise scrapes the bottom of the box. I’m moving. It sounds like gravel being dragged across a pane of glass. I’m out of the box and into the daylight.
“You’re real.” Kandi throws her arms around me.
I feel the pressure of her embrace, her warm skin, her wet cheek against my midsection. I have a midsection and a bottom section and a head.
Holy, Merry Christmas, I’m a sandman.
All that time I was using the image of a sandman as part of the scenery. But now that’s me. I’m it. I’m a sandman. I have a body. That doesn’t make me real, having a body. I was always real because I was self-aware, but now I have a body.
My arms crackle around her and squeeze back, and the helpers celebrate. A smile stretches across my round face. It feels warm and bubbly. I have a body, I’m in this world, not floating in the network or hiding in computers. I’m out here.
I’m real.
She wipes her eyes, sniffing back laughter. Her front side is dusted with a fine layer of sand. For a moment, the world goes blurry and a salty feeling gushes through me. I blink it back into focus. Am I crying?
“You look...” I clear my throat. “You look like a sugar cookie.”
That’s what I say. The first time I’ve ever used my voice and I tell her she looks like a sugar cookie. But it brings more tears to her eyes, more laughter, and then I get all weepy again and try to wipe my eyes, only I end up gouging them. Stupid stick fingers. Kandi smooths my face. I’m better.
“Want to go on a ride?” she says. “Over the seven seas and—”
“Not really,” I say.
“Look at you.” Cris lifts a hand. “All new again.”
“Too cool to hug?”
“My shirt is all clean so—”
I yank him against me and wrap him up. The air whooshes from his lungs and he chokes. I’ll need a little practice, being in the world and whatnot. I don’t know my strength. It’s just I always wanted to hug him. So this is what he gets.
“Thanks,” he says.
“For what?”
“Everything. Maybe you don’t remember—”
“Saving your life? Yeah. Now get a haircut.”
I rub his head and he winces. I think I hurt him. He’ll have to get used to my love. I hear laughing and spin my head. The Sonnys are wide-eyed and watching. One is skinnier than the other. They have fistfuls of game pieces, so some things haven’t changed.
“So cool,” the bigger Sonny says.
“So weird,” says the other one.
“You know what’s weird? Seeing you two hanging out. There used to be only one of you at a time... never mind.”
“What are you made of?” the bigger one says.
“What’s it look like?”
Of course it looks like sand, but it’s not. Am I going to tell them I’m made of the same thing as them? That’s the only logical explanation here, that I’m a synthetic print just like them, only I’m made in the image of a sandman and they look human. But really, what’s the difference?
I’m not telling them that.
I extend my hand and gently shake. “Looking forward to playing that.”
They fumble with their game pieces, whatever they are. They’re not checkers, but they look like they belong on a board. Seriously, I’m looking forward to that. It just feels so good to be in the world instead of watching from the outside. I slide toward the helpers and they begin cheering. Some put fingers in their ears as I get near, but they’ll have to get used to the scraping sound of my bottom half because I’m not standing around the rest of my life.
I’m living it.
We high-five and do some dancing. They’re skinnier than I last remember and most have shaved. They look different too.
“I knew you when you were all redheads!”
They think that’s hilarious. Of course they do.
Naren is by the box where I woke up. It’s dressed up like a giant gift. He doesn’t plug his ears when I slide up to him. His smile grows.
“This was your idea?” I scratch my midsection. Sand trickles on the ground. I’m already making a mess. “I must be a prototype.”
“I don’t have much experience with sandmen.” He leans in and whispers, “Be good. I know your secret.”
Secret? I shiver a little. I don’t have access to the entire computer network anymore. I’m a sandman now. My memory is limited, my processing a bit slower, but I remember.
I did all this.
I’m the one who brought him to the island. This was my idea. I look around and figure it worked. Not like I imagined, but something good happened. Some things look different—slim versions of helpers and a path that appears to cut across the island and the missing tower (I’ll figure that one out later)—but Naren put me back together, and that means he mined me from backup data to reassemble my awareness before inserting it into this body. That means he knows what I did.
And he still brought me back.
He called it a secret. That means Kandi doesn’t know. Maybe Cris, either. I turn an imaginary key on my mouth and throw it over my shoulder. He nods along.
Yeah. That’s what he means.
The little poopies are scratching at my bottom, big bows bouncing on their necks. I never liked them much. But there is someone I do. She’s standing behind Naren, sort of by herself. The holidays are not happy times for everyone. I saw her in her darkest moments, awash in a spin cycle of bad feelings. I took the risk of bring Naren to the island for a lot of reasons.
Mostly for her.
She’s radiant in her green dress and glowing skin. Her eyes are kind, her smile gentle. She puts out her hands. I gently take them, careful not to squeeze.
The helpers begin singing.
Maybe she knows what I did, maybe not. I don’t care. Because it worked. Maybe it wasn’t a happy ending. But it’s a good one.
“Merry, merry,” I whisper.
Her gentle smile widens. “Thank you.”
“It’s time!” Cris shouts. “Gather up!”
Our moment is spoiled by a hundred or so helpers slapping their bellies and crowding around us. Naren puts his arm around the miser, but she resists.
“Come,” he says.
“What are we doing?” she says.
“One last thing.”
“No, Naren. I told you I don’t want a gift... this last year has been everything I could ask for...”
Her hands tighten around mine. I’m grateful we don’t burst into flames. I’ve seen her angry, I know what happens. And my arms are sticks.
“I thought I was the big gift,” I say. “There’s more?”
Kandi pushes me toward the Christmas palm, where Cris is directing helper traffic. She shoves me against the trunk and throws me a floppy red hat. I wonder if Santa left it behind.
He’s real, you know.
N
aren guides the miser next to me. She’s wearing a reluctant smile. It’s hard to accept generosity after everything that’s happened. I put my arm around her. She’ll have to get used to being sandy. Naren stands on the other side of me, and Kandi sits on my bottom half along with the twin Sonnys.
Cris works his way through the flood of helpers. We’re all facing the same direction. I can see all the way to the other end of the island. Cris is holding a silver ornament.
“Please,” the miser says, “you’ve already done—”
“This isn’t for you.”
The ornament levitates out of his palm. The helpers watch it rise. It hovers almost thirty feet above the ground. Our warped reflections stare at us. I’ll be honest, I look pretty good.
“Hold this.” Cris gives me an empty picture frame.
My fingers curl around it. I’m not sure why I’m holding it, but I don’t ask. The miser and I are clueless. I wish there were some instructions here.
“All right, everyone,” Cris shouts, “the magic words!”
We look at the hovering ornament. All at once everyone says the same thing.
“Merry, merry!”
I have no idea what just happened. Cris grabs the empty frame. Kandi does too and so do the twin Sonnys and Naren. We hold it up. The helpers crowd around like they want to see through it. I don’t get it.
“It’s not for you,” Cris says.
Something begins to materialize inside the frame. Colors merge and forms appear. A photo appears. It’s everyone from the hovering ornament’s perspective.
“It’s for all of us.”
The helpers cheer and dance. Naren hugs the miser and Cris hugs Kandi and then we all hug and they all get sandy and no one seems to care. Tears well up in the miser’s eyes. They don’t turn into steam. I didn’t see this ending coming. Maybe it’s not a happy one, but it’s a good one.
And so is our first family photo.
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Rise of the Miser: Claus, #5 Page 29