by C. W. Trisef
Eager to avoid the task, Ana cheered, “Done!” She nodded gratefully at her friend. “That was easy.”
“Not so fast!” Pauline said merrily, helping the girls up off the couch. “We need something in here”—sweeping the room with her arms—“something festive to lift our spirits: a snow globe, an ornament, some lights—anything. It’s Christmas, go wild! Come on, let’s see what we can find in some of these boxes.”
Boxes, boxes, boxes. There were boxes everywhere. Any and all of the Manor’s belongings that could fit in a box had been put in a box and hauled to the Keep. There were boxes big and small, there were boxes short and tall. There was no end to the boxes, and the last thing anyone wanted to do was go through more—boxes.
“Is this one of those sneaky, motherly ways of getting us to do chores?” Ana complained as she started shuffling through things in the kitchen.
From one of the bedrooms, Pauline sang her reply, “Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh…”
“She’s singing carols!” Paige snickered.
“Good grief,” Ana rolled her eyes.
Pauline continued, “O’er the fields we go, laughing all the way—ha, ha, ha!”
“At least she’s not freaking out about what might have happened to my dad,” Ana pointed out. “Seems like that’s been on her mind nonstop ever since your dad told us about it. Though I can’t blame her; it’s been on my mind, too.”
“Bells on bobtail ring,” Pauline carried on, then becoming louder to emphasize the next line, “Making spirits bright.”
“I’ve been worried about my dad, too,” Paige said tenderly. “I miss him,” then, her voice quivering, “and Ret.”
“We all miss Ret,” said Ana, “but he’s the one we should worry about the least.”
Pauline finished the first verse, “What fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight!”
Now time for the chorus, Paige suggested with a smile, “Maybe singing will cheer us up, too.”
“You know, maybe you’re right, P,” Ana grinned. Struck with an idea, she started improvising the familiar chorus based on whatever junk she happened to be sifting through: “Jingle bells, pasta shells, two new headphone jacks.” Paige was laughing, so Ana kept going. “Dracula, a spatula, and…” then finding something unexpected, she questioned, “Little Debbie snacks?”
“Hey!” Pauline snarled from the bedroom. “Those are mine!” The caroling had come to an abrupt end.
“You hit the jackpot, Ana!” Paige observed, coming over to inspect the bounty.
“Girls!” Pauline warned, hastening to the kitchen. “Just nevermind those!”
“No wonder you haven’t lost any weight, Mom,” Ana realized. “Check out this stash!”
“Cosmic Brownies, Swiss Rolls, Oatmeal Crème Pies…” Paige announced.
“And look, Red Velvet Christmas Tree Cakes!” Ana cheered. “Sweet, I found my Christmas decoration!”
“That doesn’t count!” Pauline declared, arriving in the kitchen. “Now unhand those cakes!”
“I can’t believe this,” Ana remarked. “You’ve been holding out on us. What other goodies are you hiding?”
“Thank you for your help, girls,” Pauline calmly told them. “You’re excused.”
“Mom, you’re supposed to be on a diet,” Ana reminded her.
“One little treat isn’t going to kill me, Ana,” Pauline rationalized.
“Yeah, one won’t,” Ana returned, then reaching into the box to retrieve some of its contents, “but nine packs of Pecan Spinwheels might!”
“Mmm, Spinwheels,” Pauline’s mouth began to water.
“Mom.” Ana glared at her in all seriousness, the roles of mother and daughter temporarily switched. “I thought we talked about this. You said you were going to make healthier choices, remember? I’m worried about you!”
“I know, I know,” Pauline looked down in shame. “I’m sorry. I was doing pretty well for a few days, but sometimes I just need a little treat, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with a little sugar, Ana. I mean, there’s sugar in oranges, for Pete’s sake. Am I not allowed to eat oranges now, too?”
“Ugh, Mom,” Ana grunted with a facepalm. “The issue isn’t sugar; it’s how much sugar. Sugars are carbs, and the body doesn’t get rid of extra carbs like it does extra water—it stores them. So if you eat more carbs than you need, then you’ll start gaining weight. So yes, there’s nothing wrong with a little sugar, but do you see why there might be something wrong with a lot of sugar? If you eat like an Olympic athlete but live like a couch potato, then you’ll end up looking like Jabba the Hutt. Sure, a treat every now and then is fine, but every day? I mean, how often do you eat these, anyway?” She held up a random package from the stash.
Calling the confection by name, Pauline searched for a loophole, “Do you mean Zebra Cakes in particular or just sweets in general?” Ana shot her an unamused glare. “Okay, I’ll admit…lately it’s become a little more frequent.”
“Mother!” Ana complained with frustration.
“Don’t get so worked up, dear,” Pauline defended herself. “I had a flat belly when I was younger, but childbearing and middle age have been hard on me. My beach body is no longer a priority.”
“Is that what you think this is about?” Ana balked. “Mom, this is about your health, not what you look like in a bathing suit. Don’t you want to be healthy?”
“Of course I do,” Pauline replied, her previously positive attitude fading. “Look, I’m trying. I’m following the guidelines…” then eyeing the mini powdered donuts, “…for the most part.” Paige smiled. “But my weight won’t change.” She threw up her arms. “What do you expect me to do, eat broccoli all day?”
Intrigued, Paige inquired, “What guidelines are you following, Mrs. Cooper?”
“Oh, you know, what we’ve all been told,” Pauline explained. “Eat plenty of protein, choose clean carbs, drink lots of water, exercise more, avoid fats…”
“What’s wrong with fats?” Paige questioned.
An awkward moment followed, as if Paige has just asked the obvious. She and Ana made eye contact and smiled. They had done a little research on fats since the lecture at school.
“Uh, what do you mean?” Pauline asked.
“Why should fats be avoided?” said Paige.
“Well, uh…” Pauline searched for a reason. “Well, because everyone knows fats make you fat, dear.”
“How do you know?” Ana interrogated.
“They just do,” was all Pauline could say. “It’s in their very name, isn’t it?”
Paige innocently laughed, “Well, that’s silly—nothing more than a misleading coincidence, really. I’m not sure the words fats and fat can be used interchangeably here. That’s like saying wearing shorts makes you short, which doesn’t make any sense.”
Paige had a point.
“I don’t understand why fats have such a bad reputation—they’re a necessary nutrient,” Paige continued. “I mean, there are essential amino acids (or proteins) and essential fatty acids (or fats), but I’ve never heard of an essential sugar (or carbohydrate).”
Pauline, who lived on the simple-minded side of life, stared at Paige as if she was speaking a foreign language.
“Oh Paige, dear,” Pauline sighed helplessly, “it’s all so confusing to me. I tell you, the definition of what’s healthy changes like the wind these days.”
“I haven’t really figured it out yet either, Mom,” Ana said, “but until then, just cut back on the sweets, okay?”
“I know, honey.” Pauline was speaking realistically now. “I’ve just been so stressed out lately. First the move to this dreadful Keep, now the uncertainty about your father. I mean, we don’t even know if he’s…if he’s…”
“Still alive?” Ana hesitantly completed the sentence.
“Oh, don’t say it!” Pauline finally broke down, pulling the two girls into an embrace like a mother hen. “Life is hard for all of
us right now, but if we stick together, I know we can pass through it. Now,” she clapped, wiping her eyes, “shall we resume our search for a Christmas decoration?”
“I guess so,” the girls moaned.
“I know!” Pauline shouted. “Why don’t you go explore the Keep? I hear those rooms are full of all kinds of stuff. You’re bound to find something Christmassy.” When the girls showed some reluctance, Pauline insisted, “Go on, it’ll be fun.” She escorted them to the front door, anxious to re-hide her stash of goodies in their absence (and make sure they hadn’t found the eggnog). “Good luck!” she bade them as she shut the door.
“Ugh, this is so lame,” Ana muttered, still standing by the door.
“Where should we start looking?” Paige asked.
“I say we just bring back some of that mistletoe,” Ana suggested.
From inside the house, Pauline yelled, “No mistletoe!”
“Fine,” Ana sighed, walking toward the main room of the 21st century floor.
“How about we visit a December 25th sometime in the past?” Paige proposed.
“What do you think this is, a Charles Dickens novel?” Ana teased.
“Very funny,” Paige grinned. “Maybe we can find an antique ornament for the tree or something.”
“Okay, but we should probably find a tree first,” Ana joked.
The pair strode to the elevator in the center of the room and climbed aboard.
“How far back should we go?” Ana asked, stepping up to the controls and cracking her knuckles.
“Not too far,” Paige said, “maybe just down one—”
Without any warning, the elevator engaged, freefalling like a rollercoaster ride at an amusement park. The girls were thrown into the air and then onto the floor.
“What did you do?!” Paige shrieked, trying to catch her bearings.
“I didn’t touch a thing, I promise!” Ana yelled back.
They were plummeting, the floors zipping by so fast that they were all just a blur.
“Make it stop!” Ana cried out, struggling to stand up.
Paige crawled over to the control clock, its three hands wildly spinning counterclockwise. Trembling, she pinned all three of the hands together, and the elevator slowed to a stop. Its doors opened, and the girls eagerly spilled out onto solid ground, panting. They found themselves in another main room but on a different floor. Paige stared wide-eyed at the year painted in big, black letters on the wall.
“2500,” she quietly announced, then added with profound gravity, “B.C.”
The fact that they had, in a sense, gone back in time to four and a half millennia ago made their hearts pound even harder. Although they knew they hadn’t actually left the present day (which was now 45 floors above them), the Keep had a way of making even the most non-threatening situations feel very disquieting.
Paige and Ana rose to their feet amid profound silence. Every wall and every hall—from the floor to each door—shone with the most intense whiteness imaginable, like a scene from another realm. Cold and stale, the air tasted like it hadn’t been stirred in a couple thousand years.
“Do you think we should go back up to a more recent time?” Ana asked with noticeable uneasiness. “I mean, Christmas didn’t exist ‘B.C.’”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Paige said, though not totally persuaded. “Still, I wonder if there’s a reason we came here. You said you didn’t touch the controls, right?”
“It was probably just a freak accident, that’s all,” Ana assumed, anxious to get back into the elevator. “Come on, let’s—”
Suddenly, the girls saw something move out of the corner of their eyes. They glanced to the left just in time to see the figure of a man turn down one of the room’s ten corridors.
“Okay, time to go,” Ana quickly said, officially freaked out.
“Hold on,” Paige pled, caution yielding to curiosity. “Let’s find out who that was.”
“Girl, are you crazy?!” Ana protested. Paige was already walking away. “Yes, yes you are.” Ana unwillingly followed.
Paige walked to the place where she had last seen the unknown person. She entered the corridor and slowly started down it, the years of two decades stretching out on either side of her. Near the end of the corridor, a little ways down a hallway on her right, Paige noticed that one of the doors was open. She slowly headed toward it, Ana several steps behind.
“Hello?” Paige called out as she approached the door. “Is anyone there?”
No answer.
Paige was about to peer into the room but paused. Her sense of confidence (inherited from her father) had carried her to that door, but her inner voice of prudence (passed down from her mother) was keeping her from entering. She glanced back at Ana, who, with a look of terror on her face, was making all kinds of desperate gesticulations to tell Paige not to proceed. Although she was also nervous, the Coy child had the feeling that she needed to see what was in this room. And so, she took a deep breath and entered.
About the size of a small bedchamber, the room was mostly dark, the light from the hall casting a faint gleam inside. Paige stepped toward the center and pulled on the ripcord, illuminating a single, low-wattage lightbulb on the ceiling. There was no shortage of things to look at: idols from Mesopotamia, pottery from Egypt’s Old Kingdom, examples of early Sumerian writing. Papyrus had just been discovered, and China was in the silkworm business. It was like strolling through the ancient civilizations section at a museum, Minoan art alongside Phoenician artifacts. There was even a fake tree in one corner. But the mysterious person was nowhere to be found.
“You okay?” Ana asked, her head peeking in from outside.
“Yeah, there’s no one here,” she said, somewhat disappointed. Ana breathed a sigh of relief.
Paige was about to leave the room when something caught her attention. On the left side of the far wall, there was an aerial illustration of Stonehenge, that prehistoric structure near modern day’s London, England. Having done a report on the iconic monument not too long ago, Paige recognized the famous site immediately. However, the Stonehenge in the drawing looked very different from the Stonehenge of today. In the sketched version, none of the stones was missing or out of place. The image before Paige’s face was a whole and complete Stonehenge. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was either the original architect’s blueprint of what Stonehenge looked like when it was built, or it was just a hopeful artist’s rendition of what Stonehenge may have looked like when it was built. Whatever it was, it felt right.
As Ana roamed the room, Paige took a closer look at the curious painting. When viewed at a slight angle, the light revealed slight traces of ink where words had been handwritten on the drawing. Paige unpinned the parchment and held it in front of the lightbulb. Sure enough, the diagram was covered in notes, as if each stone of the henge had a certain meaning. Although the words were very hard to read and likely from a different language, Paige wondered if Ret or her dad might want to take a look at it.
Meanwhile, Ana was checking out the fake tree in the corner of the room. Halfway up its trunk, she thought she saw a pair of human eyes. She examined them with interest until one of the eyes twitched.
“AH!” she squealed.
“What?” Paige spun around.
“I think this tree just winked at me!” Ana explained.
“Oh Ana, it’s probably just your fear playing tricks on your mind,” Paige dismissed.
“Can we just get out of here?” Ana begged, already on her way out of the room. “This place gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Alright,” Paige obliged. She folded up the Stonehenge drawing and slipped it in her pocket, then turned off the light and closed the door.
“You know, we still haven’t found a Christmas decoration,” Paige pointed out, trying to keep up with Ana as they headed back to the elevator.
“Don’t worry,” Ana reassured her. “I’m sure my mom has found something by now.”
On
ce inside, Ana immediately began to spin the controls clockwise, returning them to a more familiar time.
“Who do you think that person was down there?” Paige asked.
“It was probably just a trick of the mind,” Ana smiled, using her friend’s own words.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Paige said.
Arriving at the 21st century floor, Ana stepped out of the elevator and made for her humble home, anxious to check on her mom.
“Oh, girls!” Pauline celebrated as the pair walked through the front door. “You’re just in time!”
“For what?” Ana wondered.
“I found a decoration!” Pauline replied. She reached into a tall box and pulled out a porcelain statue of an angel. She stood a little shorter than the average person, her round face sporting an awkward smile between two rosy cheeks. The dress was the same color as butter, billowing around her body like a cumulonimbus cloud. A pair of golden wings completed the look.
“Oh,” Paige said, trying to disguise her disgust. “It’s so…so…”
“Hideous,” Ana filled in.
“Isn’t she wonderful?!” Pauline cheered, undeterred. “And look: she even lights up!” Sure enough, the pointy tips of an inlaid strand of lights could be seen poking through the porcelain. It was like looking at a three-dimensional Lite-Brite design.
“Even better,” Ana fibbed.
“I can’t wait to see what she looks like lit up, Mrs. Cooper,” Paige said politely.
“Neither can I!” Pauline said, untangling the power cord. “Did you girls find anything?”
“Oh, we found something,” Ana replied, recalling the winking tree.
“But nothing that was appropriate for Christmas,” Paige added, recalling the Stonehenge diagram.
“That’s okay,” Pauline said as she searched for the nearest outlet. “This one is big enough for the three of us.” Before plugging in the cord, she paused to utilize the teaching moment, saying insightfully, “You see, girls, this angel is the symbol of our lives right now: just when we thought all was lost, we found a little shred of hope at this Christmas season.”
“That’s tender,” Ana mumbled.
“In fact, that’s what Christmas is all about,” Pauline continued. “I remember one year when—”
