Cape High Christmas: A Side Story (Cape High Series)

by R. J. Ross

  "Watch this," he says, tapping on it. His norm version stands there. "Besides, I can transport more boxes than most of them," he adds as his surfboard floats over.

  "Fine, but keep it out of sight," she says. "Now how do we do this shadow-thingy, anyway? I've got the coordinates here," she says to Rocco, holding out a piece of paper. Soon, with some of the teachers' help, they're out of the school and grabbing boxes.

  Rocco grabs Marigold's arm, to her surprise. "Everyone grab someone else," Rocco calls over his shoulder, hauling all of them and the boxes through the shadow. He looks around and head east, hoping he doesn't get lost. Twenty minutes later he sticks his head through a portal, only to blink as guns are aimed at him from all directions. The man sitting at the table straight ahead lets out a surprised curse.

  "Who the hell are you?"

  Marigold shoves in past Rocco. "Hello, Colonel Maveri," she says. "We've come for a little Christmas gift project I got clearance for last week. We've got a group of Cape High students here to deliver some presents to our troops," she informs him brassily. Colonel Maveri calms down, breaking into a smile.

  "Marigold!" he says, holding out a hand. "Good to see you. We've been waiting for this. The boy's with you, then?" The guns are lowered, no longer aiming at Rocco, and the guards holding them start to grin.

  "And the rest of them," she says. "Bring them in, Rocco," she says. Rocco reaches into the shadow and his hand is grabbed, so he pulls the entire group out, including the metal surfboard loaded with boxes. Whoops.

  "Is that Cold Steel's board?" Colonel Mevari asks.

  "Um, well--" Rocco says, hesitating. "This is PURELY a Christmas thing. Even Jack--"

  "I'm a Cape High student," Jack says, reaching up and tapping on his watch. The illusion drops. "I might be a super villain when I'm working, but I don't got anything against the military, sir." Colonel Maveri raises an eyebrow slightly at the "sir" comment. "I AM a Liberty boy, you know," Jack adds.

  "That's right, sir," Trent says, walking over to Jack's side. "For today, he's just my brother--a metal coated Liberty boy," he adds, flicking a finger against Jack's head to make a "ting!" noise. Jack doesn't even blink.

  "Well, since you're with Marigold..." Colonel Mevari says slowly.

  "If I mess up here do you REALLY think my family would let me live? You don't get more supportive of our troops than America's Son and Star Spangled," Jack asks. "Hey, if you want, I can call up Dad and have him come and watch me--"

  "Can you?" Colonel Mevari asks. "The troops would LOVE to meet America's Son!"

  Marigold just looks at the Liberty boys, crossing her arms over her chest. Rocco steps forward, though. "We can't--I can't have another adult helper, remember? If you want, sir, I can just stick him in the Shadowlands for this. It stinks and there are strange monsters in there, but I think he'll survive," Rocco says, making most of the group laugh and Jack give him a dirty look, "probably," he has to add.

  "Okay, but we WILL be watching you," Colonel Mevari says, looking Jack in the eye. "Leave the watch off, some of the troops are fans," he adds reluctantly. "Besides, I trust Marigold with my life and my base, she wouldn't bring a threat."

  "And yet you still make a big deal about it," Marigold drawls as they head the way out of the HQ tent and out to meet the troops. The entire base is made up of tents, which the Cape High students marvel at--until they start getting introduced to people. Soon they're drawn into handing out gifts and posing for pictures. The troops seem especially excited to see the Liberty boys.

  Rocco steps back, leaning against a wall as Jack and Trent start talking to a large group of soldiers. To his surprise, Marigold moves next to him.

  "I'm not going to apologize," Rocco says, not even looking at her. "The second time was ABSOLUTELY accidental."

  "And the first?"

  "I didn't steal anything!" he says, looking at her.

  "Regardless, what you've done today almost redeems you in my eyes," she says. Rocco rolls his eyes. "Keep going that way, and I might just let you join my Hall," she tells him.

  "Even if I'm a villain?" he asks.

  "Same difference."

  "How did you get so close to the military?" he asks, looking at her curiously.

  "I was married to one," she says, looking over the group with a slightly sad smile. "I even enlisted to stay with him, back in the days. You'd be surprised at what sort of strings they used to pull to have a super out on the field--on their side, of course. When Mastermental stepped up as Hall leader, that all changed, of course. No one above a D-class is allowed to enlist, nowadays."

  "So... where's your husband, now?" Rocco asked.

  "He passed away--old age, before you ask, some thirty years ago. He was a great man. Ever since then, I've been doing my best to let our troops know they have people that love them." A little smile plays over her face as she turns to him. "And when I heard about the Advent Calendar, well, I knew I had to do this. So thank you."

  "You're welcome," he says, giving her a grin. "If you keep this up, you might redeem yourself in my eyes."

  Advent Calendar - Day Seventeen

  Nico pulls to a stop as he enters the apartment, raising one eyebrow at the full-uniformed America's Son standing in front of him. He tries to walk around him, only to be blocked again. "Okay, what is it?" he asks reluctantly.

  "I understand," Ken says, placing a hand on his shoulder, "why you did it, and I even agree," he goes on, "but we both know that we might have some very disappointed kids after tomorrow--not to mention the guilt that she's going to experience."

  "If you really feel like that, do something about it," Nico says, heading up the stairs. "Talk her into letting you be her helper for the day."

  "I... no, you're right!" Ken says, breaking into a grin. "I've been wanting to be a helper since this started!"

  "Someone else might ask you later, you know--better get ready to do at least two days, if you decide to go for it."

  "I would love to," Ken says, heading out the door. Nico snorts before heading up the stairs to his floor.

  ***

  "Sandra?" The shadowy room is silent. A pair of eyes open slowly, looking at the door. "Sandra, this is Ken. Sweetie, can I come in?"

  She hesitates for a long moment before groaning and running a hand over her face. "You're just going to keep knocking politely at my door until I say yes, aren't you?" Sandra says dryly. "Whatever."

  The door opens and she stares blankly at him for a long, long moment. "HO HO HO!" he says, when she doesn't react soon enough.

  "You came dressed like a dork," she says. "Whoopie." He's wearing black jeans and a T-shirt patterned to look like Santa's outfit, complete with a stripe of white down the front and a belt printed over the stomach. He even has a large black bag hanging over his shoulder and a Santa hat perched on his head.

  "Even got the shoes!" he brags, showing off red and green tennis shoes proudly. "When I was a kid, I used to dream of being handed the Santa mantel," he goes on, flipping on the lights and walking over to her. He drops down next to her, leaning against the wall. Casually he digs in his bag, pulling out a plastic wrapped Gobstopper. "Brought your favorite," he says.

  She takes it, unwrapping it a bit awkwardly before taking a bite. He doesn't even wince at the sound of it being crushed easily. "Just not the same as the old days," she complains. "Back then I had to suck on one of these for weeks just to make a dent."

  "You still can, you know," he says. "Tomorrow is your day to host the Advent Calendar," he says, going straight to the subject. "What are you planning?"

  "I'm planning on ignoring it," she says, licking the candy.

  "I want to be your helper," he says, ignoring that. "I have an idea that you might agree to, even!" he says, opening the bag and pulling out a Christmas stocking. "We've got candy and toys and puzzles and comic books!" he tells her, pulling out a massive haul. "And one random super hero t-shirt for everybody!" he adds, dragging out a pile of t-shirts. "I raided the Hall's gi
ft store after I hit up Wal-mart," he says shamelessly.

  She stares at him. "And?" she finally says.

  "I want us to make a stocking for each of your classmates--and then we'll hang them in the den before they wake up," he explains. "You won't have to tell them it's from you unless you want to," he promises.

  "So... we're just shoving stuff into the socks," she says, a hint of interest showing in her shining eyes.

  "Exactly," he says.

  "No running around like an idiot, or in public, or anything?" she demands.

  "You'll only leave your room for a little bit--but Sandra," he says, more seriously, "you're amazing, and they're waiting for you to join them."

  She looks down, staring at her massive hand instead of looking at him. She turns it over, looking at her palm. "I'm not writing the notes," she says, instead. "I can barely use my stupid phone, and Nico said he made it for me."

  "You stuff and I'll write the notes," he agrees. They start spreading out the items by types and get to work.

  Within seconds, Sandra is starting to declare things like, "This is the one that Vinny should get, for sure--and this one is better for Morgan," and quickly starting to fill the stockings. She even lets him put his silly Santa hat on her head, only messing with it when it threatens to fall off. She soon has piles of stuffed stockings in front of her and is pointing at each, demanding that he puts the right name on the right stocking.

  "I'm not sure about the apartment kids," she admits, sitting down when the stockings are finished, complete with notes. "I mean, I don't know them."

  "But I do," he says. "They'll love them," he promises, reaching up and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ready to do delivery?" he asks.

  "Yeah," she says, only looking slightly hesitant as they shove all the stockings into his big black bag and head into the den. To her surprise, Nico's standing in the middle of the room--well, he's actually floating. "What--" she starts out as he turns to them.

  "I thought you went home," Ken says.

  "For dinner," Nico says. "I thought I'd add a few decorations, since you're not taking the bus," he adds. Sandra hesitates, fighting the urge to run back to her room. But he's not even looking at her now, he's setting the walls up to show a winter scene, complete with stars above a rich snow scene. Snow starts gently falling on the scene. "That work?" he asks her.

  "You're breaking the rules, again," Ken says.

  "No I'm not," he says. "I'm just playing with one of my favorite toys. There's a difference. Go on and do what you were planning, Sandra," he prompts her. "I like the hat," he adds.

  A shy little smile crosses her face as she starts unloading the black bag and placing all the stockings around the room. Soon the den is laden with stockings and looks perfect. She looks around in wonder, only to blink as a bright gold stocking is handed to her. "What--"

  "This one's yours," Ken says.

  She looks down, a bit stunned. "Thank you," she says, only to jerk as she hears people moving. "Got to go," she adds, racing away before people start coming out. She can't help but listen, though, as they come out and find their stockings.

  She waits, listening to them exclaim, hearing Carla call out names as she checks each of the stockings. She hears her name several times, much to her shock. Only now does she realize that it's obvious who did it--it IS her day on the calendar, after all.

  She slides down her door and leans back against it, wondering what she expects. Does she want them to thank her? Yes? No? She doesn't know, she thinks as she hesitantly digs through her own stocking full of giant Gobstoppers, comic books, and a strange, handmade toy. She pulls out the stuffed gargoyle, staring at it for a long moment. A note is tied around its neck, and she reads it slowly. Sometimes the most unique things are the most amazing.

  The toy is astonishingly detailed, and while not beautiful in the traditional sense, most definitely a piece of art. It's made of a soft, silky material. She hesitates to touch it too much, certain it'll break.

  "Sandra?" she hears Ken ask through the door. "Your gargoyle--it's made of special material. We were looking for something Jack's hair wouldn't rip, so it should be tough enough for you, too. Kim made it," he tells her with a hint of amusement. "She wants to meet you, she insists on being the one to make your future uniform--says you'll be a challenge."

  "Thank you," Sandra says quietly, hugging the toy to her chest.

  "No, sweetie, thank you," he says. She hears him walk away and sits in silence for all of a moment until a piece of paper pokes her as it's slid under the door. She reaches down, picking it up.

  It's a Christmas card, signed by everyone in the school. She reads every one of the thank you notes until she's memorized them by heart. A little smile plays over her face as she hugs her gargoyle and stares at the star covered walls of her bedroom. Maybe... just maybe...

  Advent Calendar - Day Eighteen

  "If you will step this way, I'll lead you to Ace's 'Spectacular Spectacle' event," Jack says through gritted teeth. The kids just stare at him--he's wearing a strange white and silver outfit, complete with a fur lined cloak and staff made of ice.

  "Who are you supposed to be?" Vinny asks finally.

  "Jack Frost," he mutters, not looking happy at all--especially when the group bursts out laughing. He pulls open the door of the dorm, motioning them all to step out into the snowy field that spreads out where the school yard is supposed to be. Everyone glances around--it's obviously a large Ace illusions--the weather's starting to go cold, but Kansas City NEVER get this much snow, at least not in December!

  The wind swirls large, heavy snowflakes through the air, hitting them in the face. It's not a winter wonderland--it's a winter snowstorm. "HEY!" Jack bellows. "TONE IT DOWN!" The storm keeps raging, and reluctantly the kids start trudging through it. Only Malina seems happy. Her eyes are twinkling excitedly as she looks around.

  "What in the heck is he thinking?" Morgan mutters, only to jerk as the snow stops. They're standing on a cliff--and in front of them is Max, looking ridiculously green and furry--and in lederhosen. Ace's voice comes over the air in a voice-over, and they all look around as Ace says the first few lines of the Grinch's story. Max kicks angrily at a pile of snow.

  "I don't hate the Whos, but I'm REALLY STARTING TO HATE YOU!" he bellows at the sky.

  "Good job with the rhyming, man, excellent timing," Jack says, only to groan. "He's got me doing it too."

  The group starts laughing, especially as the Christmas songs come from over the edge of the cliff. They move closer, looking down at the pretty little town of Whos. "Oh no, no no no nono," Max says, lifting his hands high in the air. A rock rises from the ground--and promptly smashes the town--or tries to. The rock bounces off the roofs and rolls away harmlessly.

  "Nuh uh uh," Ace says. "You traded me helper duties, so you're going to do this properly," he says.

  "Aren't the Whos a band?" Brandon asks Justin.

  "No, that's The Who," Justin says.

  "That's what I said."

  "No, you said the Whos," Justin says.

  "We've got the music nerd lecturing, Ace! Can we at least get this thing moving again?" Max calls to the sky.

  "Okay, okay, fine! We'll toss the Grinch," Ace says. The cliff disappears, and Max's appearance changes--into Santa Claus. "Everyone wants to know how Santa really became Santa, right? Well... I don't know either." The entire group groans. "But I do know the story that my dad said was passed down from parent to kid in our family." The snow disappears and the group finds themselves standing on a street corner, watching people hustle by in ancient clothing fashions. "A long time ago, for just a little while, we weren't known as the Loaded Deck family. We were known as the Loaded Sleigh," Ace says, stepping into view. He's wearing a strange, tougher looking version of an Elf uniform.

  "You were elves?" Max asks, starting to laugh.

  "You're doing the laugh wrong. It's 'HO HO HO' jolly man," Ace tells him before turning to the group. "But yeah, we were elves, well,
my great great, hundred times over, granddad was an elf--the ONLY elf to begin with, and Santa? Well, Santa was just a big-hearted super. But before Grandpa was the elf..." he pauses for the dramatic effect, "he was the pickpocket."

  The bustling world around them goes still and Ace moves, walking past Max and bumping into him. "Oh--sorry, man, didn't see you there," he says, holding up his hands in a harmless gesture before starting to walk away.

  "You stole my money," Max says.

  "I did not!"

  "I SAW you steal my money pouch. Look, if you had just ASKED for money, I would have given it to you," Max says, holding out his hand. "Give it back. I don't want this to get physical."

  "Okay, fine!" Ace says, pretending to dig in his pocket and producing a bag of money. He holds it out.

  "That's not my money," Max says. "That's an illusion."

  "What? How do you know that?" Ace demands. "Look, you can TOUCH it!"

  "I know it's an illusion because I'm a--I'm what you are," Max says, looking around with a hint of worry. "What do you need money for when you can do that?"

  "You can't exactly live off of illusions," Ace drawls. "Look, forget it--if you don't tell people what I am, I won't tell them what YOU are."

  "Are you hungry?" Max asks. Ace goes still, and then slowly turns on his heel so he's facing Max.

  "Are you paying?"

  "Yeah."

  "Then I'm hungry," Ace says. The walk away from the group, and slowly the watchers realize that they've been joined by the school faculty--who promptly hand out bags of popcorn. The world in front of them blurs, and they find themselves sitting in a log cabin, where Ace is lounging at a table and Max is making plates of food. "So... what do you do with your powers?" he asks. "Nothing? Save random people?"

  "I do my best--I'm good with time," Max says.

  "Good with time? Like what, you make schedules?"

  "Something like that," Max says, bringing the plates to the table and sitting down. Ace digs in, eating like he's starving, and Max just watches him for a moment. "There are too many people out there that lack... I keep thinking that there's something I could do, but, well, there's just me," he says as he starts to eat. Ace grunts and keeps eating. "What really gets me are the kids," Max goes on, raising his voice slightly. "Especially around Christ's Mass."