A Very Meowy Christmas

by Patricia Fry

  “Helicopter transport sounds like a good idea,” Michael said. “Time could be of the essence where the fox is concerned.”

  Simon looked wide-eyed at Adam. “A helicopter?”

  “Yeah,” Adam lifted his hand for a high five.

  “Let’s walk slowly down to that flat spot. The copter will land there. Ready?” Bill asked.

  “Ready,” Michael said.

  When Bill saw the makeshift stretcher Michael had made from Adam’s t-shirt and various pieces of wood, he smiled. “Ingenious.”

  “Wait,” Simon called. “I left something in the cave. I have to go get it.”

  “Is it that important?” Peter asked. “Can’t you just leave it?”

  He shook his head. “No. No. I can’t. I’ll be right back.”

  “Want me to help you?” Peter asked.

  He stopped and shook his head. “No, I have to do it by myself.”

  “Well, where is it?” Rochelle asked, when Simon returned.

  “In my pocket.” He looked up at the others. “Can we go home now?”

  Chapter Eight

  The following morning, Rochelle and Gladys were in the kitchen fixing breakfast, while Savannah helped Lily and Teddy wake up with a storybook. Rags seemed to be interested in the story too, or he just felt the need to be near his favorite people.

  “It’s sure quiet in here,” Michael said, walking into the living room. He looked around and asked, “Where’s Mommy?”

  “Right here,” Lily said, pointing at Savannah.

  “Oh, I didn’t see her there behind all you kids and the cat.”

  “She’s reading us about the naughty bear in the forest, right, Mommy?”

  “Yup,” Savannah said, yawning.

  Michael picked up Rags and sat down with him next to Savannah and the children. He moved Rags to one side and continued petting him when Teddy rolled over onto his lap. “No sign of the boys, yet?” he asked.

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Peter said, entering the room.

  “They’re fine,” Rochelle said from the kitchen. “I closed their door so they can sleep in if they want to.”

  Peter embraced his wife and chuckled. “That would be a first. Those boys have been up at the crack of dawn every day since we’ve been here.”

  “Let them rest,” Gladys said. “They’ve been through a lot. She looked at Peter, then Michael. “How’s the little fox?”

  “She’s with a veterinarian in the next town,” Michael said. “Ranger Bill took her down there last night. I spoke with Dr. Buchanan just now. He said the little thing has a hard row to hoe, but he believes she’ll adapt just fine to being on three legs. He doubts she would have made it through the night if it weren’t for the boys.”

  “So what will happen to her?” Savannah asked.

  Michael shrugged. “They hope to turn her over to a gal who runs a preserve for injured and imprinted animals—you know those that can’t be returned to the wild. Dr. Buchanan said they lost their last fox a couple of years ago and visitors have missed seeing the fox exhibit.”

  “So we can’t take her home?” Simon asked, having slipped into the room unnoticed.

  Rochelle ran her hand over his hair. “I don’t think so, Simon. It wouldn’t be the right environment for her. The people at the animal preserve know what she needs to be happy and healthy and safe. We probably can’t offer her that, do you think?”

  “Yeah, probably not. I’m glad she has a home, though.” Simon looked at Rochelle, then Peter. “Every orphan should have a home.” When Simon saw Rags walking toward him, he leaned over and picked him up. “Hi, Rags,” he murmured, holding the cat.” He smiled. “He’s purring. Does that mean he likes me?”

  “It sure does,” Savannah said. “Rags doesn’t purr very often, at least so you can hear him.”

  “It’s loud,” Rochelle said, petting Rags’s head. “I can hear it from here.”

  Michael smiled. “He must be extra happy today.”

  Simon agreed. “Yeah, he’s happy the little fox is safe too, aren’t you, Rags?”

  Just then, Adam walked into the room and asked, “What’s for breakfast? It sure smells good.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet you kids are starving,” Gladys said, embracing Adam briefly. “It’s bacon you smell. I’m also making waffles. You boys can get started if you want.”

  “After you wash up,” Peter said.

  Gladys smiled, then pointed out the condiments on the table. “You can use syrup or honey or this lovely fruit compote Rochelle made to top the waffles.”

  “How about all three?” Simon suggested.

  “How about you settle on one,” Peter said.

  “After you wash up,” Michael reminded.

  “Then what are we going to do?” Simon asked.

  Michael grinned. “Want to go on a long hike in the mountains?”

  Simon took a deep breath. He glanced at Adam, who stared back through wide eyes. “Um…”

  “Nobody’s going hiking today,” Savannah said.

  “That’s right,” Rochelle added. “We’re going to just chill together in our cozy cabin and enjoy our beautiful Christmas tree…”

  The boys both laughed, and Adam said, “That’s about the ugliest tree I’ve ever seen.”

  “No it’s not,” Lily challenged. She ran to the tree and pointed. “See the pretty lights and the pretty colors? Grammy and I put on this decoration.”

  “What is that?” Adam asked, moving closer.

  “A bird,” she said. “We made it with sticks and string.”

  “Yes,” Gladys said, “and it’s pretty, isn’t it, boys?”

  Giggling, Simon said, “Yeah, if you say so.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty,” Adam said, but he couldn’t keep from laughing, too.

  Soon everyone was laughing and Savannah pulled out her phone and took a few pictures of the children in front of the tree. Then she said, “Okay, let’s eat. Is everyone washed up?”

  “I’m washed up after that ordeal the last few days,” Michael joked.

  Savannah smirked at her husband’s attempt at humor. “I mean with soap and water. Adam? Simon?”

  “Okay, I’m going,” Adam said.

  “Me, too,” Simon added.

  “The waffles are delicious,” Peter said once they were all seated together around the table. When Simon reached for another waffle, Peter asked, “How many have you had?”

  “He’s a growing boy,” Gladys said. “Let him eat.”

  “I don’t want him to get sick on the trail today.”

  The boys looked at Peter, and Adam said, “You’re kidding right? We aren’t really going hiking today. I mean, I like hiking a lot, but…”

  “We know, buddy,” Michael said. “No, we’re not going hiking.” He looked at Simon. “…Or fishing. You boys need some down time. Frankly, so do the rest of us. Nope, we’re staying right here today. We won’t go any farther than maybe a picnic on the river bank.”

  “That’s only about three feet away,” Simon said.

  “Maybe six feet,” Adam corrected.

  “Fifty feet,” Peter said.

  “So it’s fifty steps to the river?” Simon asked. “Adam, I think we could make that.”

  “I’m sure you can,” Rochelle said, laughing.

  “So what will we do all day if we stay here?” Adam asked. “I mean, after we eat lunch?”

  “Uh-oh,” Michael said, “I think the boy’s getting his mo-jo back. We haven’t even finished breakfast and he’s already talking about lunch.”

  “What’s mo-jo?” Adam asked.

  Michael play-punched him, “Your energy, your get up and go…”

  “Oh.”

  “Seriously, Son,” Michael said, “are you okay? How’s that bruise?

  Before Adam could respond, Simon said, “Oh, is that what happened when you fell yesterday morning when we were trying to find something for the fox to eat?”

  Adam winced and pulled up his p
ajama top. “It doesn’t hurt much.”

  “Wow,” Michael said, “that is turning some pretty colors. How far did you fall, anyway?”

  Peter laughed. “You think you’ll get an accurate answer from boys who don’t know the difference between three feet and fifty feet?”

  “Good point,” Michael said. He suggested, “Well, you take it easy today and we’ll put cold compresses on it.”

  “Ice?” Adam asked.

  “Or snow,” Peter said, grinning.

  “Huh?” Simon asked. “Where would we get snow?”

  Peter pointed at the window. “Right outside.”

  “It’s snowing?” Simon shouted. He ran to the door and swung it open. “Hey, it’s snowing. Look everyone. It’s snowing.”

  “Don’t let Rags out!” Savannah called, lunging for the cat. She missed, however, and Rags darted out the door before Simon could stop him.

  “I forgot,” the boy said. “I was so excited.”

  Savannah squeezed Simon’s shoulder. “It’s okay. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

  “Or the one hundredth,” Michael sighed.

  “Want me to go get him?” Simon asked. He opened the door wider. “I’ll go get him. I see him out there.”

  “Wait,” Savannah said, smiling. “Look at him. I don’t think he’s ever seen snow.”

  “Yeah, he has,” Michael reminded her.

  “But not while it’s snowing.” She laughed. “Poor boy; he’s confused. Come on Rags. You’re going to get all wet and catch a cold. Come on, boy.”

  Everyone laughed when the cat laid down in the snow and rolled around.

  “Rags!” Savannah called.

  “I’ll get him,” Michael said, slipping into his jacket and stepping outside.

  “Wait,” she said, picking up her phone to take a photo, “that’s just too funny to miss.”

  “I want a picture of that, too,” Simon said, racing to get his camera.

  “Rags with snow all over his head,” Adam said. “That’s crazy-funny.”

  “Is everyone finished humiliating him?” Michael asked before scooping up the cat. He brushed the snow off of Rags and carried him inside.

  “Can we go play out there?” Simon asked.

  “Let’s put Rags in his pen,” Michael suggested, “then you kids get dressed, put on your mittens and beanies, and yes, you can go out for a while.”

  “Me, too, Daddy?” Lily asked.

  “Sure, punkin.”

  “Can’t we wait until…” Savannah started.

  Peter interrupted. “From what I see on my phone weather app, this is just a squall coming through. It will clear out in an hour or so. Let them enjoy it while they can.”

  “Okay,” Savannah agreed. “An hour or so of snow play, then we need to work on our Christmas gifts. Tonight’s our Christmas party, remember?”

  ****

  “Why is everyone so quiet?” Michael asked later that day after he and Peter had finished bringing in firewood.

  Not wanting to break the mood, Savannah whispered, “I think everyone’s working on their Christmas gifts. Do you have yours ready?”

  “Almost,” Michael said. “Do you?”

  “Yes, and Teddy’s. Mom helped Lily with hers. Adam has made something, hasn’t he?”

  Michael nodded. “We’re working on it. Although he’s not too thrilled about it. He doesn’t see any point in making something dumb—and he’s pretty sure he can’t make anything that anyone would want. And he’s not happy about the name he drew. But, as I say, we’re working on it. What time’s the unveiling?”

  “After supper. We’ll eat early so the little ones will be awake.”

  “Okay. I’d better go find my son and help him get a move on.” When the boys walked into the room, Michael asked, “How are you doing with your Christmas gifts, guys?”

  “I’m finished,” Simon said. He smiled. “It was an easy one.”

  “Adam? Do you need help with yours?”

  “Yeah, Peter’s going to help me with something. I’m almost finished.”

  “Well, you only have a couple of hours, buddy.”

  “When are we going to open our gifts?” Adam asked.

  “In a couple of hours,” Savannah said. “Is everyone getting hungry?”

  “Yeah, we didn’t have our picnic,” Adam complained.

  “The ground was too wet,” Simon reminded him. “Besides, we weren’t hungry, remember? It must have been all those waffles we ate.”

  “So are you ready for supper?” Gladys asked.

  “Yeah,” Simon said. “What are we having?”

  “Does anyone like mac and cheese?” she asked.

  “Yeah!” Adam cheered.

  “Love it!” Simon said. “Is it from KFC?”

  Gladys chuckled. “No. It’s homemade.”

  “Oh,” he said sounding disappointed.

  “Grammy’s mac and cheese is way better than KFC,” Adam said.

  Gladys smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”

  When Simon saw Rochelle sitting on the sofa watching Teddy work a magnetic puzzle, he plopped down next to her. “This was a cool day.”

  She asked, “What was so cool about it?”

  “We got to hang out and play some board games. That was fun.” He pointed at Adam, who now sat across the room with Peter using a chair to shield them as they worked on his Christmas gift. “Especially when I crushed you at the end of Uno.”

  “Yeah, if I’d had one more turn I would have…” Adam interrupted himself to say, “No, Rags!”

  “What’s he doing?” Savannah called from the kitchen.

  “He’s going to mess up my gift. Darn, he got hair all over it.”

  “I’ll get him,” Michael said, hurrying to Adam’s rescue.

  Rochelle laughed when Rags darted away before Michael could get close to him. Then she said, “Want to know what I liked about today?”

  “What?” Simon asked.

  “I liked that we got to talk to each other.”

  “Yes, we had some interesting conversations,” Gladys agreed. When the others looked at her she explained, “I learned some new words—not that I’ll ever have an opportunity to use them with my circle of friends.”

  “I liked playing in the snow,” Adam said.

  “Yeah, that was rad,” Simon agreed.

  Savannah smiled. “I enjoyed spending time being creative.”

  “Creative?” Simon repeated.

  “Making my Christmas gift,” she explained.

  “That was being creative?” he asked. “I thought being creative was when you paint a picture or make something out of beads and other things you can buy.”

  “Oh no,” Savannah said, “when you use things you find—you know, things that are at hand—things you wouldn’t ordinarily use in art—that’s really being creative.”

  Simon frowned. “I don’t feel very creative.”

  “Didn’t you enjoy making a Christmas gift for someone?” Peter asked when he and Adam joined the others. “I kind of liked having to think outside the box.”

  “You had a box?” Simon asked. “Is that fair?” He glanced at the others. “Can he use a box?”

  Peter chuckled. “No. ‘Thinking outside the box’ means being creative—coming up with new ideas that others may not have thought of—using unusual techniques and supplies to make something with your hands.”

  Both boys sat silent for a moment, absorbing what Peter had said. Simon spoke first. “Yeah, I guess I did feel sorta good about my idea for my gift. I just hope it’s good enough.”

  “Good enough for what?” Savannah asked.

  “To give to…” He flashed a look at Rochelle, then stammered, “um…to someone.”

  “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you,” Rochelle said, “but even though my gift isn’t all that unique and pretty, it is something that comes from my heart. When you create from the heart and give from the heart, it makes your heart happy.”
/>   Simon laughed. “You like hearts, don’t you?”

  Rochelle grinned. “How’d you know?”

  “You have them all over the house and on your key ring, and…”

  “And on those earrings you’re wearing,” Adam said.

  “Your ring is a heart,” Lily said, reaching for Rochelle’s hand.

  “Well, it sure is, isn’t it?” Rochelle said, smiling at the child.

  “Rochelle’s right,” Savannah said. “Creativity doesn’t necessarily mean making something beautiful—it means making something unique, different, and meaningful to the other person.”

  “See,” Simon said, nudging Adam, who had joined them on the sofa.

  “Yeah, see,” Adam said in return.

  Both boys giggled.

  “Got a feather in your shorts?” Peter asked.

  “What?” Adam responded.

  “A feather in our shorts,” Simon repeated, giggling harder.

  “Nooo,” Adam said, laughing heartily, “want one for Christmas?” he asked, continuing to laugh.

  “Good one,” Simon said.

  “What’s in that water you boys are drinking?” Michael asked. “Laughing powder?”

  “Laughing powder,” Simon said, busting up laughing again.

  Adam joined him.

  ****

  “Is everyone finished eating?” Gladys asked, standing up from the dinner table a little while later. “I can see that Teddy’s starting to get sleepy. Why don’t you boys entertain him while we tidy up the kitchen and prepare for our Christmas party?”

  “Yay!” Simon cheered.

  “Yay!” Adam said, reaching for the baby. Gladys removed the high chair tray and Adam picked up the toddler. “Come on, Teddy, let’s go play—just us guys.”

  When Lily began to protest, Savannah asked, “Hey, want to help Mommy in the kitchen, punkin? You can wash dishes.”

  “Okay,” she said, perking up. She slid off her chair and began pushing it across the floor toward the sink.

  “Watch out there,” Michael called. “Chair coming through.” He picked up Lily and the chair and got the child settled at the sink with enough water and bubbles to keep her entertained for a while—and to maybe get a few dishes washed in the process.