Christmas Eve with Family
Cratchit walked briskly through the snow. His fingers were a bit numb from both the cold and from all the steamdeck work he completed. He managed to find an open haberdashery that was having a last-minute sale.
Bob opened the door and met two dour-looking shopkeepers, “Do you have any canes, good sirs?”
A man whose name tag read Stone looked coolly at Bob and said, “Of course sir, we have some excellent new canes. Excellent support and perfect for fending off, making points, and of course, helping you walk.”
Bob brightened, “Exactly right. Please show me if you can?”
Stone walked over to Bob and both met at the cane display area. There were three mirrors as well as a small mannequin holding an apple.
Stone picked up a hefty cane that was simply tipped with a heavy straight silver bar at the top and a sharper pointed one at the tip. He swung it deftly and drove the tip into the floor with a large bang.
“As you can hear, you can make loud and sharp sounds with the tip for emphasis. You could hear that over a raging tornado. With this cane, your argument skills will be second to none.” said Stone.
Bob looked a bit confused, but said, “Well, it is very nice looking for sure.”
Stone frowned a bit and offered, “Nice looking, yes. Nicer acting if you ask me. Watch the fending options this model provides.”
Stone then yelled and brought the heavy-headed cane smartly onto the small mannequin’s tufted head, “I say NO!”
There was a small dent left and Stone smiled, “You can offer corrections like this and usually this suffices from that point forward. A simple brandish can now be applied for the same effect.”
Stone then demonstrated, “Would you like another taste, wretch!” and simply shook the cane at the dummy.
Bob looked on with some degree of dismay, “Well, may I purchase…”
Stone interrupted, “Not so hasty, be sure to understand the last fending option: the tip is quite sharp.”
Stone speared the apple neatly, brought it up to his face, and took a juicy bite, “This cane allows the bearer all the fruits of life for only seven hundred and fifty dollars.”
Bob smiled and said, “Do you take credit? I’d like to have this delivered to Mr. Screwed’s place this afternoon, please. Here is my first card. Put $350 on that. Then, please put the rest on this second card.”
Stone nodded and executed the transaction on his steamdeck nearby, “I’ll have it delivered within the hour. I know Screwed is an impatient man and I could see why he’d need this. Good lad for helping out and an excellent gift for a softwar founder.”
Cratchit said, “Thank you, good Stone. Happy Christmas Eve.”
Stone tipped his hat and exposed some strange shape and it fell back down before Cratchit could get a very good look. He left the store and started off for home. It was getting late and he knew his family would be waiting.
Cratchit turned the corner and found a young man selling day-old bakery goods. It looked as if he might be a baker’s apprentice trying to make extra money for the season.
“Day-old babka! Day-old babka! You, sir? Would you care for a day-old babka? It’s still very moist and has all sorts of good things inside. It’s usually twenty dollars but I’ll sell it for ten?” said the young man with wide eyes.
Bob smiled and pulled out fifteen, “That babka is worth more than that. I must have it and will pay no less than fifteen dollars for it!”
The young boy looked confused as this was the first time someone had countered his offer with more. “Uh, sixteen is my higher? offer?”
Bob said, “SOLD! Here are sixteen silver dollars. Fair trade and thank you young man for my family’s dessert. You must have a Happy Christmas as well. Go home now!”
The young boy smiled and yelled as he ran, “Thank you kind sir and Happy Christmas!”
Bob took the heavy cake and found his avenue. He turned the corner and stopped in front of his home, “I am so very blessed.” He took a moment and looked upwards at the stars, “Thank you.” He walked up to the door of his home.
Cratchit opened the door to his life and the warmth flooded over his body. He could almost eat the aroma of home-cooked food.
He dropped the chocolate babka on a nearby table as his family welcomed him home. “Happy Christmas, Bob!” said his thin wife as she hugged him tightly.
Bob laughed and said, “It is a Happy Christmas! Look, I found a day-old babka for half off. Dessert is on Mr. Screwed!”
Belle smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Mr. Scrooge does what he does. I’m not sure anything is on him or not.”
Bob noted, “Even Mr. Scrooge deserves our gratitude tonight, good wife.”
A small boy slowly walked up to his father but couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Daddy,” he mumbled as he stood near Bob.
Bob talked gently to his young son, “Happy Christmas, Tim. I have something for you.”
Tim looked concerned but smiled when Bob took out a set of beads on a string. Bob looked kindly at his son as he took the beads. Tim moved them side to side and walked away staring at the gift.
Bob asked his wife, “Belle, how has Tim been? He looks ok, but …”
Belle smiled and said, “He’s fine, Bob. Let’s enjoy the evening and not worry. The red beans are almost done. We’ll feast!”
A small draft pushed the red-bean-filled atmosphere. A voice couldn’t be heard: “She’s here and he’s here. Where are you?” The green and red eyes blinked and faded from no one’s sight.