 
Christmas Shadow's Emil Crise

Christmas Shadow's

Copyright 2018 Emil Crise

Published by Emil Crise

Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase and additional copy for each recipient.

Christmas Shadow's

A Christmas tale.

Emil Crise

Enchanted by the falling snow, Dorsey's eyes brown and round grew twice the size of a harvest moon. The cold blowing north winds pushing the towering puffy cotton ball clouds quickly repainted Papa's farm with a knee high white blanket of snow. Using the palm of his hand Dorsey rubbed away the frost tinted window and then cupped his hands over his eyes to shade the distraction of unnatural light.

"Papa, Papa, the snow! It's really coming down hard. You don't think Santa will cancel his flight? Do you?"

My attention broke from my own thoughts hearing my name called out. I hovered over to the window next to him and could feel the breath of old man winter as he rattled the panes of glass leaving a frosted symmetric pattern to bid as his calling card. Using my shirt sleeve to shield the cold I rubbed in circular motions creating my own porthole to see Dorsey's concern.

"My, my, you're right. The snow is coming down pretty good." I said turning to Dorsey and feeling my eye curl upwards in a posture of inquisition." Cancel Santa's flight? Cancel Christmas? Who told you such rubbish?" I asked focusing my full attention towards his older cousin and likely culprit.

Dorsey's eyes narrowed tracing back to the same culprit, yet still cautious to avoid letting names escape his lips. He was not to be labeled a snitch, but his attention confirmed as much. "Nobody Papa, I just heard that's all."

I looked fondly at the young boy passing through the tender age of seven. An age I believe magic steps aside and open's the doorway for rational belief to make its first appearance.

It wasn't long before a pre-teen with a cracking squeaky voice standing near Dorsey took claim to the rumor. "The FCA cancels flights every day. Why last vacation we all slept in the terminal in Philadelphia before going south to Jamaica." The broken tenor voice, proud in his knowledge, led to a tall skinny freckled red head boy with newly sprouted pimples. A cousin of Dorsey, who given the span of summer, spurt up near three or four inches which to most of his peers, gave him an eagle nest vintage point, to assert himself amongst the chatter. "I heard Uncle Buck say the storm moving in could shut down the entire Midwest. He's an FCA air controller. He would know. Right?"

For a moment before answering I gazed at the young mister standing tall. A lineage of mine borne to my daughter. He was maybe a few Christmas's past, a splitting image of Dorsey, in looks and naivety, now surging with innovative and conquering ideas and ready for expression. I trotted gingerly not wanting to scar such a tender psyche. "I think you're referring to the government folks who regulate that sort of thing. But I'm pretty sure Santa has his own rules. I guess you could say he is grandfathered into special handling when it comes to flight restrictions and cancelations. No sir, I continued with a confidence of my own, "those rules don't apply to the jolly old man. Old Saint-Nick and his team of reindeer couldn't ask for better conditions. Snow, gotta have it. I'd venture Christmas day would be impossible without it." My words spun Dorsey's head around like a Ferris wheel churning through thought.

"But Papa, how about far away in the desert? How can they have Christmas? They got no snow."

I shook my head and let out a cough to clear my throat, buying some time for thought. He had come up with a good question. But I had my wits about me and the answer came quick. "Ah but that my young apprentice is where you're wrong. You see Christmas snow is quite different from most. Shows up in the darnest of places, even as faraway places like the jungle or desert. But only on Christmas Eve. Most can't see its magic you know. Yes sir, a special snow on a special day indeed. Its old Saint Nick voodoo, that's what they call it in New Orleans. A magic created by the spirit of the season itself. A magic that aligns itself in the same spirit of the one who graced the mangers under the northern star."

With that I winked at them and gave my long white beard a stroke. Then turned, tucking my tobacco pipe in one hand, and nestled myself into a lounge chair, aided by my cane in my other hand. Seated, I took a moment to carefully pack my pipe. Lit the herb, then inhaled holding in the rich sweet mixture of enchanting home-grown tobacco until I could no longer hold in its essence. Releasing it, the rings of smoke found its way towards the crackling fire brewing in the hearth, busy on its own accord, chewing away apple wood that scented the room with burnt apple and of course my sweet herbal tobacco.

The children wrestling, poking, and screaming, finally settled into the front rows. Behind them the teenagers caught between the world of young and old. In the back rows, the adults, armed with spiced eggnog helping them recapture their own childhood recollections. Beyond them, Christmas trees. One in the den. A traditional blue spruce vibrant in color, alive offering its smell of pine that grabs you, shakes you and says hello. A busy tree with full branches proudly holding the decorated family heirlooms and assortment of lights and bulbs and topped with a twinkling white angel that lit up in green and red. In the living room sat its competition, a silver tree. In contrast it was made of aluminum with thin silver painted perfectly straight factory branches and strips of symmetric cut silver strips of aluminum for which no lights and few ornaments could hang. Yet the tree even in its simple state had a grandeur most could not put their finger on.

And so it was with trees, one for family gathering and one that well just held a special meaning. It was a celebration of Christmas immersed in a gaily pageantry of decorative lights, angels, and fairies and most importantly a hearty meal setting that arrived to one's sense of smell first, then a rich pageantry of colors and enticing shapes. It was indeed a sight to see, plumps of carved roasted brown moist turkey dripping with gravy. And bowls of Aunt Katie's trademark mashed sweet buttered potatoes that I swear looked like clouds from the heaven. And of course the dark rich turkey gravy followed with plates of seasoned dressing that gave off its spicy aroma of thymes and sage. Next to them, red juicy cranberries picked in the fall and frozen for just this occasion. And garden sweet potatoes as orange as the setting sun decorated with melted marshmallows. Green beans laced with vinegar and bacon and a salad of mixed greens, tomatoes, and cucumbers. And uncle lefties pickled hot peppers that almost made your eyes watered but lured you in with its sweet nectar of its oil. Even helpings of cousin Red's, (named for his Red cheeks and nose) red robust stewed tomatoes. And when the last dinner plate was picked from the table out came the armory of pumpkin pies, blackberry pies, and chocolate cakes with a cherry, and Christmas sugar cookies of every type, crying out for attention fresh from the oven. Of course, none of this would be complete without Uncle John's Mason Jar recipe that curled your toes and advised to be sampled alongside a strong black coffee.

Oh, it was a merry time indeed, as the rest of my family and guest huddled around the big brown and gold chair, tattered, and worn, as I was. The throne of Papa. The patriarch of the family with rings of generations surrounding my chair stretching back beyond the blue spruce pine Christmas tree decorated with ornaments handed down from gram Furatiski on Maws side. My tribe had grown and so also, the burden of the tree heavy with years of accumulated ornaments. Underneath it stockpiles of Christmas gifts all the way to the outer limits of the kitchen, darn near to the backdoor.

I was simply known as Papa. And on the Eve of Christmas, the story teller who would bend an ear or two with Christmas tales.

Mortality markers often appear at the strangest time and remind us of the limitations to this wonderful gift of life. In most years leading up I had made it a point to choose and rehearse a special story each Christmas under the watchful ear of Memaw. This year had been different. This year my memories couldn't keep pace with my desires. Nothing stuck.

It swept in slow, first misplacing keys, forgetting a friend's name maybe a birthday or two. Getting lost in the woods, will that put a scare in Maw. Doc's look didn't give her much comfort either. I don't know if it was to be my last Christmas at that helm, but I felt it important to make it special and memorable for all. After all I was having good days and bad days, today was a good one. I felt sharp.

As my assembled flock patiently waited in anticipation of our tradition, I took a toke on my pipe, held it in, and released rings of smoke, that grew larger and larger until the rings floated away. The smoke helped with the headaches, helped me relax, seemed to untangle the snarled-up wiring of my mind, and clear the cobwebs. I followed up with a sip of Uncle Johns frosted Mason Jar recipe and cleared my throat. For a moment, I closed my eyes then opened them and began. "The rains pelted down on the shiny roof as the small Elf Mickey carefully ....... "

"No Grandpa, Dorsey and Casey in unison screamed out. You told us the elf story last year." I smiled slightly bewildered.

"Why yes, I think you are right." I stroked my beard and gave my noggin a good scratch. "Indeed, I did. Oh . . . oh I got it, how about the time we went ice skating with the reindeers and of course Rudolph sometime being slightly careless fell through the ice?"

"No!" The young ins in the front row roared out, showing thumbs down in disapproval. "Quit teasing us." They protested believing it was all a game to keep them in anticipation.

"How about the Christmas mouse story?" I asked.

They responded with their thumbs down again while Dorsey even more dramatical shook his head so vehemently I thought he might pop it off.

My head started to throb watching Dorsey's head. I instinctively took another hit from my pipe. Doc said it would help with the memory. The seeds of my tobacco crackled as the fire engulfed the contents of my special blended tobacco. Feeling parched I put my pipe down, gulped a fair amount of Christmas cheer from the Mason Jar, and unintentionally smacked my lips. Finishing with a burp and getting a laugh from the front row. I wiped the vanilla frost off my beard and was now ready to make another attempt to entertain my gathers.

"I haven't shared the story about the time I helped fix Santa's sleigh, have I? Put new dual runners in. Side by side, sleigh moved like lightening across the snow."

A resounding yes couldn't have come any quicker especially from the eager seated in front of me. "Yes Papa," my now impatient crowd tired of the perceived game bellowed out. Their response left a frown on me.

I let out a grunt. "Are you sure?" I asked. Their nod confirmed as much. My eyebrows folded inward sprouting crow's feet and wrinkles. The sparkle in my eye wavered. My shoulders drooped, and my eyes cast to the ground. I felt feeble for the first time like the white bearded old fool I really was. I spoke with emotion. "I'm afraid the years have eroded the pathways to my distant memories. I regretfully cannot think of another story."

The silence in the room seemed unnatural even for a stage and the storyteller. And from out of the silence came the delicate voice of Dorsey who many years later I am sure would someday hold the reigns I held, spoke.

"The snow. You said it was Christmas snow. What is Christmas snow?"

"Snow, why yes of course." I repeated it again. "Snow," as it resounded in my own mind knocking loose the rust and freeing an entire space of time held captive by the dark areas of the mind. A smile broke on my face, as particles of colorful vibrant memories ignited fusing together and filling the dark vacuum of space. I was euphoric, maybe giddy, now armed with a lost memory. "Yes sir, Christmas snow," I chanted away, "Christmas snow, Christmas snow." I stared beyond the gaze of my youthful audience who still waited in suspense believing this was all part of Papa's story telling act. My eyes cast on the many faces that have grown over the years and evolved from front row seats to standing room only, locking on the unchanged beauty I had met sixty years earlier growing up on a small farm in western Pennsylvania.

Her gaze enchanted me, filling me with strength. She shared the smile. Our eyes danced together the way only two soulmates could. And it was in that moment the story came to me. It was the perfect Christmas story, one that needed to be shared now, or the truth forever lost in the chronicles of time. My attention from her broke by the summons of Dorsey pleading to begin the story.

I nodded to Dorsey. I was now armed with a Christmas memory I have never shared. I looked down at my young audience and rows of generations extending beyond the mistletoe hanging in the living room. And my eyes zeroed in on the silver Christmas tree next to the bay window. A gift that blessed my life with a snow angel. The Pink Christmas bells with silver glitter that hung from the windows began to chime silver bells.

The timing of the Christmas bells provided the perfect stage to begin my story. "Thank you for being so patient tonight. For a moment I feared I have overstayed my welcome and unjustifiably milked in the gift of your attention far too long. Tonight will be my last year to share a Christmas tale as any good man with half his senses should know when to exit the stage. "

My attention shifted to those at the farthest edges of the bookend of our gathering. "For those in the back I might bore you with some repeated history. But necessary history that will give our newest family members and friends amongst us, some perspective to my story."

"The story is about folks we meet, family we cherish, and the magic of life, the magic of fate, and the magic of Christmas."

"First, I would like to ask you how many of you know why Maw, always sets up a silver tree in addition to the traditional green tree?"

Nobody except Casey rose their hand. She smiled seeing no competition, especially from her younger brother. When called upon she spoke. "That's easy," Because that's what Memaw likes." Her response brought a chuckle to the crowd.

"No fair." Dorsey protested with a frown on his face, his head propped up by his hands and arms anchored by his folded legs. "I was gonna say that." Another laugh echoed in the crowd.

I raked my hand through my white beard not expecting such a simple yet correct answer. "That is True, what mamma wants, mama gets. But now I will share one more reason. One that will introduce you to a very special influence in my life. It is a story I hope that enlightens you and is shared for millenniums of Christmas's." I looked over at the silver tree, battered, bent, and aged like myself. Those of you in the rear of the crowd I hope you have the openness to understand and believe that what I am about to share is very real. Please allow your imagination to guide you, and if you should waiver we still have plenty of Uncle John's Mason Jar recipe." The crowd chuckled.

Now. . . . Where do I start?" I said out loud to myself trying to organize my thoughts.

"At the beginning Papa," Casey, eagerly chimed. I smiled at Casey why of course at the beginning, why didn't I think of that, at the beginning.....!"

And so, the beginning begins in the year 1938. I had just turned 15. It had been almost a year now since we had left the mountains and coal mines of West Virginia for the brickyards of Pittsburgh. A move none of us kids wanted, but as Maw later explained it unbeknown to us, the move gave our family stability, and even a rainy-day savings account for the first time. "Opportunities," she said echoing my father's words. For my Paw it was a homecoming. He had grown up in the very same neighborhood we would now call home.

"Hogwash" was my first impression staring at the tightly squeezed together cookie cutter rows of homes that stretched for what seemed like miles. Gone were the Blue Mountains and green forest where one could scream at the top of his lungs. Run wild, and never get a scolding for being insensitive to the neighbors. Gone now, the summer creek that delivered ice chilling snow melt from the top of the mountains. Water cold enough to sting your shoeless feet numbing them for at least a half mile until you reached the warm waters of the mud ponds. Oh yes, the glorious mud battles where cousin Al, (part cold blooded amphibian) plunged to the dark bottomless depths of the pond, where few ventured or could. Returning from the deep caverns spitting water from his mouth like a dragon hurling fire armed with the richest thickest muddiest mud ball. A mud ball that on impact left a red mark that even a good rub couldn't fix. Gone the soft dirt path, that beckon one to walk barefoot and led to the meadows of long swaying grass and daisy's where one could spend all day watching the clouds push past.... Everything now replaced with roads made of hard brick and towering crooked electric post to replace the natural coal lambs. But also gone was the darken face of my Paw covered in black coal mine dust, and the cough that never went away even in the summer. And most importantly gone the weary look of a man thin beyond his build watching over us as we filled our bellies full. Money flowed better, and a settlement or ease began to transform my Maw first then my Paw. But worries or attention to money had little footing to a fifteen-year-old.

Don't get me wrong, seeing those that cared for you, brought yins to the world. Well . . . we all had their best interest at heart. We just weren't interested enough in knowing the daily sacrifices they made. Of course, we had far more important things like whether the Pirates could beat those darn Yankees, all the work it took to for me to make the summer league baseball squad. And who could possibly replace Starlet, with eyes like brown cherries, a long black pigtailed beauty I was surely destined to marry. Trading away my slot on the team and Starlet to boot, will that just didn't seem fair.

I paused for a moment, thinking how a Starlet destiny might have turned out. The thought without Maw, made me shudder. I took a sip of my drink to wet my whistle and continued with my story. "Now like I said Paw seemed to be more at ease as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Paw as we all have known him, Joseph to others, was a man of practicality. Some would say a harden man brought on by the challenge of trying to raise a family in difficult times. A stern voice usually kept us in order from Paw. A wooden spoon was my Maw's chosen method to keep us in line.

"Paw, for all of us, my three brothers, and sister, was the rock of Gibraltar. His wisdom eased us into our new world. As fear of change is usually worst then the change itself I soon found myself comfortable in my new surroundings. Being of a civilized order they too had baseball, worried about the Pirates beating the Yanks and low and behold also found myself two seats back next to the window, from an angel I'm sure of named Cindy Sue. And one I was surely destined to marry.

When I wasn't daydreaming about my future with the young maiden. I found myself captivated by the season change provided by my window view. A liberating window from the hum drum of governmental civics as delivered by Mr. Sinchek. Ah yes, his lecture hadn't a chance competing with the magical passage of time I witnessed unfolding outside. And a small passage back to my earlier upbringings.

A world where the stage always changed. Today a soft summer breeze set in a warm sunlight of blue sky and wisp of white clouds. Vibrant summer colors dominated the landscape. Green plush grass mixed in with scented blue violets and purple lilies scattered across the field waving in the breeze. Then in what seemed a blink of an eye, a stage change with cold darkened northern clouds. And penetrating artic winds that chilled the trees, transforming them in a mix of orangish brown and smell of decay. All a reminder old man winter was not far behind."

Soon the windows would shut, barricading the transparent touch the outside world could offer. Now gone the occasional bee or butterfly riding the wave of breeze to distract one from the studies. No, now was the time Mr. Hardwick, our school custodian, a tall, lean proud man, his uniform always clean and pressed. Quiet in nature with gobs of white hair. Now he would make his entry and release the iron heat of the radiators with one twist of his wrench. A sacred magic wrench that severed the head of the dragon, as the iron radiator belched, and hissed, and breathed out warm air."

This was the autumn passage and soon cardboard pumpkins and ghost were replaced by pilgrims and turkeys. Snow now covered the entirety of the world and the steam radiators too weak to fight the frost, gave in to designs of symmetrical crystal patterns blocking my porthole to the outside.

Santa props and decorated manger scenes replaced the pilgrims and turkeys, and outside play turned to snowball fights, and snow forts. Most importantly with winter, thick ice now covered the swimming holes turning them into venues for ice skating. It was at old farmer Holbrook's pond I first realized, Starlet my ponytailed heartthrob, would vanish forever, and be replaced with a brown eyed blondie named Cindy Sue.

I knew little about her, other than I was surely out of her class. She knew even less about me. Our only interaction a smile while passing papers between rows.

I paused the story for a moment, took off my reading glasses, fogged them with my breath, and pulled a handkerchief from my pocket rubbing it in circular motions, then held it to the light. My eyes caught Maw, far in the back next to the silver tree. We both smiled, we knew the story well.

"It was a chilly day. A roaring bonfire, monumental in size, was spitting its flames high enough to melt the snow laden limps of the mighty oak and drawing the attention of a squirrel or two, nestled high above. Yes sir, a mighty fire, spotted it half mile down the road, clear across the barren frozen corn fields that still harbored a few stocks. It was a clear day, for the most part, but snow still fell. I paid it little attention Instead my sights attached to the pretty little lassie seated next to the roaring fire huddled in tight enough to cast a bright light on her angelic face. There yes indeed, sat the girl with long blonde hair covered by a wool cap and red cheeks frosted by the sting of winter, there sat Cindy Sue. Snow falling around her touching her softly on her cheeks, white and pure as her. A magic snow that only came to touch an angel's face.

Memaw blushed, and I paused the story looking to the woman in the back who accompanied my journey side by side, who I'm sure transcended alongside me to that very same spot in time. Prodded by Dorsey to continue I banished away the veil of space that had recaptured me and continued the story.

Yes sir, Holbrook's pond was a magical place, and I lucky enough to be there at a magical time. Cindy Sue was tall and awkward, thin, and yet to blossom into the woman she would become. Her eyes brown canvassed in an almond shaped frame, and to me glistened in the light. This encounter the beginning seed to the most incredible gift I have ever gotten, god as my witness.

All I could do was barely nod hey and lower my eyes as she cast hers towards mine. A face in the crowd, she was amongst her friends, and I dared not approach beyond that fortress that she safely harbored her soul. As quickly as I felt a connection, it was gone, gone forever, as Chip Dorkin, the class president, and athlete of the year, tall, confident, and handsome, rustled his massive arms around Cindy Sue, putting claim to the fine beauty I knew I couldn't live without.

"Rumpelstiltskin," Dorsey bellowed out in displeasure. His sister, Casey elbowing him and deferring her look towards the grownups and waiting for his scolding. "You lost her Papa? I'll be gosh darned it.

"Dorsey Cutwrong," you watch your language, his mother warned from the back creating a laugh amongst the adults.

I too couldn't help but snicker. "Lost her? Why I'd had thought leaving that day I had. But fate is a funny character. It hunts; it seeks, and eventually through no seemingly play on our part, finds its target. And in its good time, it would do just that.

Chapter

Time continued to tick, and with time, and youth, comes adaptability, and losses disappear until confronted by them later. Soon I found myself settled in with the everyday chaotic world of a teenager. It would be at least a couple turns of the season before the proud day I would pass the lass hurdle of my schoolmaster and venture out of the nest or at least as far away as the university a few miles down the road.

For now, me being the oldest of the siblings, all of fifteen years I followed my Paw into the brickyards. (During the summer and at times during the school year)

It seemed the natural progression of things. Like my Paw, I too possessed the same idealism of practicality. And I used that trait to help me plot my future. I had done my math. Three years working the brickyards, and I would save enough money to finance my first couple years at the esteemed University of Pittsburgh. I had made up my mind; I would not be a prisoner of the same yards my Paw had toiled at.

My passion or goal at this point, writing. Any type of writing, fiction, nonfiction, even reporting. I'd had even been happy to write directions on the back of a cardboard box if that's where writing took me. Now I have always had an aptitude for literature and scored appropriately in most of my high school classes related to science. Being an avid comic book enthusiast, especially Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon, science fiction seemed to be the natural progression to take my writing. Beside it was an exciting passage in time where great advancements were being developed every day. Television, jet engines, even an artificial heart. Science was captivating our great country.

And I wanted to be a part of that history or at least become a writer to tell the story. And fate or not I was not going to wait for it to show up. I was born to be a writer. The world would be incomplete without my contributions. There was nothing else that I could possibly do. And I would take the bull by the horns to make it happen.

"Papa," Dorsey interrupted, plagued by his inquisitive mind that needed settled before moving on. "You're not a writer. Are you?"

I looked down fondly at the voice of truth," that, my young man is an excellent observation. "Ah, so true, so true, the river of life does find its own path. But in my youth, that's all my eyes could see and the first of worlds I dared to venture. But behold." I said stretching my arms as wide as they could go laying claim to the treasures that surrounded me. "I have indeed found far more rewarding gifts then I could have ever envisioned for myself by the grace of one wiser then myself. ..." I felt a tear and quickly swiped it away before it could manifest itself.

With that I comfortably settled back in my chair, took in my crowd, engaged in a long drawl of my pipe, and releasing rings in the air settling even deeper into a more comfortable position."

"So, let's see, where was I?" I pondered, as the cat jumped on my lap making himself just as comfortable. I gave him a good scratch between the ears. "Yes, yes the plans were firmly in place. High school was coming to a close for the year and Paw had already arranged a summer job to follow him into the brickyards. In his thoughts, a blessing to provide a man with stability, and put food in the belly and a shelter over your head. A chance to start a family, set roots. For me, a blessing to sever the roots, put enough cash away for the first couple years of school and maybe a trip or two overseas. I could have just as easily been the son of a toolmaker or steel worker. The job didn't matter. After all, it, the brickwork was not my calling. Writing and words, a poet yet to be discovered. That was my calling. Anything outside of writing, will It was simply a tool to achieve far greater things in store for me. Of course, in the end, the brickyards were an unseen blessing that I am sometimes at a loss of words to show the proper gratitude.

Chapter

"Stacker, Paw said chuckling while entering the gates of the factory. A job he too had started with, and passed the same gate at fifteen, (until an opportunity, he shared little of), dropped him off in the coal mines of West Virginia." Yes sir a stacker. Fine honorable start. Remember boy you'll be expected to keep up with bricks coming out of the kiln once their dried. Its hard work, builds muscle, makes a man who he is." He said glancing with suspicion to my own build. "Keep up with it. I've built a name here, I expect you to keep its respectability."

Entering the brick archway to the yard a bronze plague hung, aged, yet polished and shined like new, not a piece of dirt, let alone dust, found a home upon it. The engraved name, 'Renata Nardino Serkell,' a memorial to the daughter of founding father to the foundry. A memento put up long ago back when the foundry in the crest of its youth supplied bricks to almost every home and business in the city. Where barges stacked high with bricks tugged down the mighty Ohio River until it joined the Mississippi, and some made its way seaward off the ports of the big easy and provided life to all it touched.

But now the tides were turning, it was a turbulent time as the winds of change had started to rattle through the halls of the old foundry. Situated close to the pride and joy of Pittsburgh the new elite stadium of Forbes field showed off the future of iron and concrete. Yes, times were changing and the Serkell family and its rich traditions and giver of life to families were starting to feel the pinch. Recent acquisitions by a wealthy investor Ronaldo Slump, who had amassed fortunes in both real estate and steel mills, now challenged the lone anonymous survivor of the Serkell family with controlling interest of the foundry. Worst yet, whispers could be heard Mr. Slump saw little value in bricks in a world destined to be made of steel, and most believed it was only a matter of time before his money would buy control.

And so was the start of my journey. The days soon turned to weeks, then months and what was left of my little reserve of baby fat, burned away in tears of sweat next to the scolding flames of the blast furnace. Every day I came to work I stacked row, upon row of bricks, and as each row grew, so grew my muscles. I learned to appreciate what my Paw had told me about an honest day's pay for and honest day's work. And it weren't long before some of the middle bosses took notice, and heaped new responsibilities on me, running errands for the research and development department.

And it was in these errands I may be learned one of the most important lessons in my life. A lesson hidden behind the chemistry of a clay brick, and its simple bonding agents. It's in this learning, I made acquaintance with one of the most peculiar yet brilliant minds I have ever met to this day, outside of Paw of course. And might even say, if not for this chance to know him, yours, mine, and all we have together may look very differently than today.

Chapter

His name was Marcus Russo Darrin, French in heritage. He was small in stature with long arms. He had a long untrimmed mustache blended with nose hairs and tasseled hair to match his slovenly dressed attire. His gait a slight limb favored his right side, a byproduct of his exposure and battle with polio in his youth. Some say he was once a prominent doctor and surgeon, who no longer practiced after banished for unthinkable experimentations on orphans and kittens. Others believed him a mad scientist, bent on destroying the world and who's secrets kept those in power at bay for fear of retribution.

But for most people, he simply came off as a rude disgruntled man with little tolerance and patience for those he viewed unequal in matters of the brain on subjects he favored. That being foremost math, and physics and especially the study of matter and energy, which he often infused in his conversation as litmus to one's knowledge in life. Most people avoided Marcus at all cost in hopes to avoid his arrogant and rude nature. And most were grateful his job isolated him, requiring very little interaction amongst departments.

His office sat in a remote area of the plant. High above on a second floor, with clickety black metal steps that led to his crow's nest view of this portioned away wing that had been shut down for years, dark, cold, and gloomy, which even the maintenance department had long ago abandoned its upkeep. My errands as they were explained, soon expanded too providing testing samples for Marcus. They were daily reports to verify the consistency and strength of the bricks. I venture the real usefulness of my errand was to keep the supervisors from having to interact with Marcus. A feared man, which baffled the working minds of the brickyard as to why upper management tolerated Marcus's behavior. Those who found no rational in his rumored past, believed him an heir to the original founders. While most, as I was cautioned, believed his resourceful ability to mix science with dark magic, had cast a spell over those in power at the plant.

From the stories I had heard about Marcus I had both a sense of apprehension and excitement the first day, as I approached his hidden office to deliver the data. I had also been warned that when entering, don't let the two wandering cats out, who had taken refuge in his office. At least not during the day shift. At night I'm told they were quite the hunters keeping the mice population down, and for that I suppose Markus gave them value.

The corridor down to the back side of the plant was dimly lit. Water dripped from the holes in the roof down over the rusted girders to the brick floors. The tiny light that did reflect or escape back from the dirty soot covered interior of the hallway, hurled back only shades of grey or black light. From maybe thirty feet I could make out the light from his office, that cast his shadow into an ominous bigger than life figure, crouched over his desk. I heard voices as if a discussion was going on and when I reached his office I gingerly knocked on the door hoping not to startle him.

Before opening the door, I could hear him shuffle a drawer, then bark out from behind the door. "Who is it, and what do you want?"

I replied with my name. "Christian, I've come to drop off samples from the latest batch, and oh yes pickup your data for the supervisors meeting. May I come in?"

From behind the door I could hear Markus grumble than open the door. "I see the other boy didn't last that long." Markus commented, sizing me up. "Just when I start getting used to the idiocies.... of whatever you call one of yourselves they send me another."

"Christian, I call myself Christian."

He paused for a moment looking me over; he hadn't expected an introduction and soon went back to his rant. "That's the problem with youth now days they just don't want to commit to anything." He stared at me his eyes angered and full of expression, maybe just to intimidate me, but I stood silent and he continued. "No consistency," he said shaking his finger at me. "It's a wonder we even turn out a reputable product with the likes of youth we hire in here now days. Will don't just stand their boy the cats well get out let alone your letting a draft steal the heat right from under me. It's bad enough they put me locked away in this cold corner of the plant. I suppose if it keeps me sealed away from dealing with non-logical unreliable people it's a small price to pay for that comfort. "Set the sample over there. You'll have to wait a few minutes until I finish my calculations."

Before I could even back away after lying the last samples down, Marcus hunched himself over the table, and went to work like a cat devouring his prey. Occasionally giving me a glance with his predator like eye's, scanning his new untrusted acquaintance. I in the meantime, seemed to make friends with a calico cat that found itself rubbing its body across my shin. The other cat seemed less friendly or curious and remained perched high above on a shelf keeping a watchful eye on me.

Satisfied with his computations he handed them to me. Naturally inclined to curiosity I glanced down at his desk and noticed an opened folder with detailed sketches of what appeared to be some innovative technology of a brick. A chimney brick which seemed quite normal given our trade. Next to his diagrams were long drawn out math equations. And chemistry symbols I recognized but had forgotten their value. Next to it an ad from the front section of the Pittsburgh gazetteer advertising the newest in Christmas trees, Silver trees the ad said, 'Christmas in July,' and a picture of our newest owner smiling like a Cheshire cat who had just eaten the canary, 'Mr. Slump'. Markus seeing my curiosity quickly gathered his works and gave me a stern look.

"Mr. Christian it is, isn't it?"

I nodded yes. "That is my first name."

"Well tell me boy, are you naturally disposed to looking at other people's business or are you just nosey concerning matters that don't concern you?" Before I could answer he fired off another question. "And why do I know your face. I've seen you before?"

"I don't think we have met before sir, but maybe you know my Paw, they say I look a lot like him. His name is Joseph; he works as a supervisor on the second shift."

"And as to being nosey, my Paw always says I have a curious nature to me. He thinks that's what fuels my passion to someday attend the university to study literature. Someday I hope to be a writer. I'm well versed in the rules of grammar."

"Writing," Markus repeated. You want to study the art of words. Turn thoughts to gold, an alchemist of the English language." A devilish smile broke over Markus. He walked over to the brick lying on his desk and handed it to me. "Excellent, tell me my young apprentice, what do you have in your hand?"

"A brick?" I sheepishly replied unsure of the old man's question.

"Of course, it's a brick." Markus said flinging his arms widely above his head then snatching the brick from my hand... "But that is all you see, all you feel?" I felt the room begin to shrink and felt Markus's piercing eyes looming down at me. I now knew neither the question nor the answer as I fumbled through thought.

"Red brick I guess" I replied hoping to appease his daunting look.

Markus let out a howl of laughter much louder than one would expect from his smaller statute. "A red brick that's all? Has your life at such a tender age lacked the proper stimulus and already dulled your senses? I suppose like the rest of your generation comic books have replaced the classics." I dared not answered and kept silent. As he shook his head almost stoking a rage in himself.

"Oh, how schooling has failed us all. They didn't hesitate in my day to give you a good crack with the willow stick to keep your mind in your studies." He slammed his fist on his desk.

"My lord son, think! You not only held a red brick, but in your hand, you also held the work and wisdom of every man and woman in this foundry. A red cube containing bits and pieces of everyone's contribution. A mass of information transformed from thought. A wave of energy, molded into a particle of mass, now waiting to take its place to serve its creators. Think for a moment."

I tried, good lord I tried, but between waves and particles and bits of information he barely gave me a moment to ponder his suggestion before he continued his lecture to me.

"This brick builds society, builds homes. Homes build cities. Cities build cultures. In this red brick you hold humanity itself. A process where the magic of a lonely particle of charge entangles with the wave of another until the substance of its whole becomes enslaved in servitude to our outer world. Do you understand what I'm saying boy?" He again forced upon me a question for which he left no time for me to even return a nod, before he ventured forward holding the brick closer to himself for examination. And putting a more homely or simplified expression to his lesson.

"Picture this can you? Maybe this red brick serves as the foundation of a great bridge that labors to provide a safe transport across one of the three mighty rivers that feed our city. Or maybe a building that harbors the great minds and thinkers of our universities. Or simply a fireplace brick to capture the warmth of a fire for its owner. All in all, this is not merely a red brick, but instead a creation orchestrated through the sweat, dedication, and lives of each, and every person involved in its process. A process that resonates these qualities in its servitude to our great city much like the lone contained magic of matter within in its essence." He handed the brick to me and as I looked at it with a new prospect he continued his lashing. "I'm sure they can teach you where, and when too put a dash dot or comma, but until you are able to grasp the concept I have laid before you, I would venture your writing suffers the same dull meaningless cadence."

He might be right and had that been all he said I may have chalked up his nasty reputation as nothing more than perspective. With his next few words all perspective went south.

"Quite frankly that being the case, I believe you would be better served to forgo an education in writing and allow some more qualified soul the opportunity. But consider yourself the lucky one. You were given nothing from the table and therefore have no burdens or expectations to leave something on the table. Life truly is an oyster for the ungifted."

With those words he had truly lived up to his reputation. For a moment he stood shaking his head as if still having a conversation internally. His calico cat jumped on his desk and he immediately began petting it. It seemed like a good distraction, a calming effect on him. He was less animated, and his voice softened as he reengaged his rant. I mean lecture. He took the brick back and held it up as if it were the lost holy grail. Then spoke.

"A creation of a brick is not so much different than writing. You simply cannot just mix clay with sand and produce a brick anymore then tie together meaningless words with dashes and periods and make a book. It takes chemical synergy, whether a poet or brickmaker to make that happen. Some our born with it, some must work for it. some may never have it." His eyes seemed to burrow down on me with the last statement. 'Never have it,' resounded in my mind as he continued his sermon.

"Yes sir, a fired brick takes the mastery of knowing the right heat of the kiln, can't show him how it's done. You gotta learn it. He the brick maker sees it in the color of the fire, the reds the blues the yellow. He can feel the heat. Smell it. I dare say taste it. Its strange chemistry, hard to explain, but do it long enough and you know when you got it. Same with writing, sure chemistries all the same, but sometimes commas and periods only cage a man's thoughts. Fool's gold to know grammar and think you're a writer. Sure, you can buy yourself some fancy rules from the university. Even get yourself a fancy degree says you're a man of literature. Be careful with rules, most don't know em but can't wait to tell you when you broke em. And that's with about everything in life; rules when misused can build a cage around your imagination, become iron bars for the soul. And you gotta have a free soul if you're gonna write. That's what lets you know I hold more than just a red brick in my hand. They won't teach you that at the universities. If you're astute enough you might learn that much here at the foundry." He pointed around the room. "Yes sir this oasis contained between these walls, can teach you a lot. Good lord knows it's provided an honorable life to many with far more potential, than half the cities dignitaries that parade around our city looking down their noses. . . ." He paused for a moment before striking out with words that burled into my inner being. "You needn't look any further than your own father to understand this."

"You know my Paw?"

"Ah," is all he said nodding his head and nothing more.

He held the room captive in silence for a moment, maybe long enough for his statement to sink in, then sent me off.

"Now here is today's analyst, don't squander time in getting it to the shifts supervisor." Markus directed in a firm tone while pulling his timepiece from his pocket and glancing at the time. "I will expect you here tomorrow at precisely the same time. That is if you even decide to show up." He said displaying almost a questionable smile of pleasure. "Go! Go! I don't like to have to wait for my reports to go out."

I scurried from his office like a rat abandoning a sinking ship. And having found myself out of his sight, and in a more comforting environment far from his office, a smile came from my own face feeling a sense of relief I had survived my first encounter with the infamous Markus Russo Darin. He had left quite an impression on my young mind, an awakening, and most peculiar his mention of my Paw. Potential, or not, my Paw was a very private man who rarely shared anything, especially to the likes of man like Markus's. To just know my Paw outside of basic parenting verbiage usually filtered down from my Maw, and usually only after she cherished some of my uncle's homemade wine over the holiday. It was an era in parenting that you are the child, and they the adult, and it would be a cold day in . . . well you know where, when the two worlds came together. I made a mental note to bookmark my thought for later inquires over the next holiday my Maw had Uncle John's dandelion wine.

Chapter

My summer hours soon extended to part time work during the school year and for the most part much of my encounters with Markus were short and uneventful. Most days we would exchange data and Markus would barely raise his head from his desk to acknowledge my intrusion in his world. His behavior made me wonder if I was perhaps not meeting his standards or he really was that inept in social surroundings and had taken a dislike towards me. I had resolved to thicken my skin and treat our interactions like a game, the more unsociable or ill-mannered Markus appeared, the more I tried to kill him with kindness. I'd had come to at least make friends with the cats and had made it a habit to save a small chunk of cheese from lunch to at least keep them in favor.

If promptness to schedule was utmost in his mind for that week, (as his demands often wavered) I made it a point to be early as he had requested. If staying over an hour later made a difference, I stayed over two. If silence was his pet of the day I nearly breathed a breath creating no sound.

And as I learned the value of a kind word by the preacher on Sundays I shared as much offering Markus a welcoming salutation enamored in sincerity at every greeting. "Capture souls the parting words of the preacher." After all, I represented all that was good and Markus as his reputation preceded him (and gave me little reason to doubt) represented all that was evil.

And little by little, as the seasons changed so did Markus. Spring seemed to accelerate the metamorphosis. He appeared more pleasant, outgoing, even cheerful, or as much one would expect from someone so pointed in the wrong direction to begin with. And to this day, I'm still not convinced it wasn't purely the change of seasons that created the change. Regardless I had good reason for my own cheerful disposition, my days as a high schooler boggled down with chemistry, biology, and advance math, were coming to a closure. Soon with high school diploma in hand I would work just long enough to earn my college money and then off to the University.

Chapter

Finishing a batch of samples, I approached Markus's office. Recently much like the chemistry room for which he was burning the midnight oil in more and more each week, it was locked. Today it was slightly open. I could hear music coming from a crack in the door from a composer he fancied called Debussy, playing on the recorder. He played it often, but only when he thought no one was around. It is a beautiful powerful piece that moves you if you have never heard it before. It's title, 'Claire de lune,' meaning by the light of the moon. Markus was a vestige of pain with unknown origin. And I was certain if I could find his attachment to the song, I would solve the mystery of his essence. After all everything we do matters, every cause a reaction. Every action a reaction. Those were words straight from Markus.

What wasn't a mystery was his educational background. A highly educated man, with degrees from the likes of Dartmouth and Harvard covered his walls, and even though he denounced formal education with every chance he got, he displayed one in philosophy, one in physics, even a Doctor of Medicine. Funny I thought, seeing all his accolades, seems the more educated a man got the less happiness he found. Markus in a cesspool of misery appeared to be the resounding proof that ignorance was indeed bliss.

Careful not to make the slightest noise I waited for the music to end. From the crack in the door I watched him carefully take the record off the player, dust it, then put it in its cover. Now whether I was being just nosey, or just curious in nature, l allowed myself to spy into the room. It appeared he was having a one-sided conversation with his cat, given his contribution of a meow or two. "Yes, your right, we do dearly miss her."

The cat let out a meow.

"Yes, yes of course very much, but dwelling on yesterday my two feline friends, gives little comfort for today and little future for tomorrow. My sweet darling," he said Hugging the album as if he held someone. "Until we can visit once again, sleep." He tucked the record behind the filing cabinet. Then shifted his attention to his bookcase and started sifting through the books. One by one, he pulled a book from the shelve squinting in the dimly lit room to get a better look to confirm his selection. He smiled, treating each book with the reverence of a long-lost friend, reminiscing over the first few pages, then showing it to his cats. "This one?" He asked holding it up to them. "Right, of course not." He would respond placing it back with little more than a meow from his audience.

One of particular interest found the brunt of his devotion and brought both cats to full attention fondly rubbing their bodies from head to tale as he leafed through the pages of the book. "The magic chemistry of alchemy I heard him say aloud." Leaving me to believe maybe there was some truth to him casting a spell on the owners.

Realizing it was getting late I knocked on the door to notify Markus of my arrival. He quickly turned and placed the book down covering it with his hands. "Oh, it's you come in ..." he started to say. Before he could finish it. I finished the sentence for him.

"I know before I let all the cold daft air in."

He smiled and in a chipper voice as he shuffled his desk around covering his book he looked at me with a sparkle in his eye. "I'm glad you're early today I have the upmost importance to share with you." His enlightened character beaming with excitement and contagious in nature to boot bewildered me to the core on what recent good fortune had changed his normal demeanor.

"Will come in my boy as delightful as the fresh air is, too much of anything even good has its misfortunes. I wouldn't be wanting to catch a cold before my travel."

"Travel," I asked? In unison to both cats meowing and standing in full erect backs.

"Shush the both of you, we already discussed this." Markus gently nudged the cats off his desk. Clearing his throat, which was often a cue to listen up, he directed his attention to me. "I've have been asked to preside over a special project, nothing official mind you, but from a source outside these offices. Potential new customers. Big, big, potential. So keep this little discussion between the ears." Markus's brow creased inward, and he shook his finger at me to emphasize the point. "Oh my." He said while glancing at his watch. Where does time go?

Learning some new concepts from my physics class and thinking Markus really cared for an answer I started to share my newly found knowledge. "Time is relative to space and therefore it doesn't necessarily go anywhere."

"What?" Markus said his eyes bearing down on me half irritated and annoyed I had stooled even more precious time from his seemingly already overburdened important schedule.

"Nothing sir."

He got up holding on to his book. "Well then in my absence, you will be expected to run my sampling, you have become quite efficient with it and I can't see anyone else with your competency." His eyes surveyed his desk making sure it was in order. "In addition, I am in the middle of a very special project, that has some very tight completion dates. It will require a minor role for you but still an important process to arrive at its maturity. I will be requiring your full assistance with it. Do you understand?" I nodded. "Good put your hand over your heart and repeat after me. I thought it a strange request but did as he requested. "I Christian do solemnly swear that no information concerning the special project and those involved will be shared with anybody except a need to know bases. And no one needs to know except you and I. say it." He prompted me.

I did verbatim, wondering how anyone was ever going to know anything about life given all these secret societies and oaths. Anyway, I had a slight smile on my face, proud I had been chosen but not to be too conspicuous quite aware that Markus rarely if ever gave out a compliment let alone would stand for a moment of basking in my ego. But I did with complete sincerity understand the importance. Markus was burning the midnight oil most nights. When he wasn't addressing his daily duties, he was locked up in the small lab downstairs.

"For now it will be simple." He said. "I need you to pick up scraps, beef, no liver and no chicken. You gotta sort through the package, more times than not butcher will throw in gizzards. It would be one thing if he didn't charge me for it. But he does so listen up. I've got an account with the butcher. Every night feed the cats before you leave. Simple enough even for a boy of your aptitude."

The cat meowed. "Oh yes," Markus said addressing the cat's concerns. "Crack the window. They need their exercise, and a little social time." He said with a wink. "Oh, and I almost forgot." He ruffled through his pocket and pulled out a key. "Here this opens the Lab room as well as my office. In the chemistry room I have an assortment of vials labeled Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. They are color coded as well. Next to the beakers there all instructions to how to administer to a compound made from the similar components of a standard brick. Now listen to this it is important that you only sprinkle the given day labeled on the specific calendar day matching each vial. Do you understand me?" I nodded. He continued. "Very well, once you administer the correct coded mixture, it is important that you place it in the small kiln in the room and bake it for no less than 35 minutes. Once it cools in no less than 15 minutes, you must immediately weigh it and record your findings." I nodded quickly doing the math wondering where I was to find the extra time to achieve his request; before my head could scratch the math. He supplied the wrong answer for me.

"This will all have to take place after your regular working hour. I will make sure Margret is aware of your time in the front office."

For a moment I stood dumbfounded. This couldn't have come at a worse time. In the winter staying behind later, not a problem, but now Summer league tryouts were taking place. Everything worked if I got off at my normal time and time regardless of what my physics teacher told me, time was very real to me.

Markus surprisingly who rarely noticed emotions, or intentionally ignored it, couldn't have missed the disappointment in my face. "What boy?" Markus questioned obstinately with a scowl annoyed his plans would possibly be less important than mine. "Is the mention of a few hours of additional labor put that much of a burden on such a young body that should be full of vigor? Good heavens at your age I worked the coal mines in the morning helped my father at his pumping station in the evenings and worked the midnight shift at the brickyard. All while bestowing the knowledge of the sciences into my brain from the Daniels letter corresponding school. One of just a few universities I might add, that took my hard-earned money for a worthless penance of paper."

"No," I protested mustering the courage to plead my ambitions . . . it's just I got a commitment on the diamond after regular working hours of course ..."

"Fowey. Regular working hours there's no such thing. And "diamonds? Out with it boy what do diamonds have to do with it. I haven't got all day; important folks are coming in and I can't give this matter much more time."

"Diamonds in as baseball field. I'm playing summer ball. Second base coach said I did really swell in the first round of tryouts last year. .. It's just I thought maybe this year I think I will make the team.

"Baseball! You're arguing your future here? Over baseball?"

"Yes," I said with little hesitation and great importance to boot. "And it's not just baseball. It's summer ball, their affiliated with the big leagues, not a minor league team per say, but a few, Bobby Shaulis and Gene Zorn both went to play with the Pirates. Right out of summer league ball."

Markus looked at me as if he could not grasp the complexity of my words spoken and in the most degrading tone possible asked. "They pay you to hit that ball?"

"No, but. ..." I started to say as he interrupted me.

"Exactly no. I didn't think so. Grown men don't have time for children's games. Your almost eight-teen. This foundry needs a good boost, what I have in the works just might be the solution. Everyone got to pull their own weight. Front office is talking cutbacks. When I was a child I did as a child ..."

"Maybe you should have." I said.

"Did what?" he asked as if put off by all of it.

"Did as a child did. Maybe if you looked at life a little different. Glass half full maybe."

"A child? You would have me be like a child. Well rule number one kiddo. You can never go back! I have far too much responsibility to this foundry."

Seeing the pitiful man full of hate and anger before me I could have clobbered him right there. Everything about his miserable existence was about the foundry. Maybe if he had taken a time in his own life to enjoy something, anything, anything at all, then just maybe he could see how wrong he was. I refused to allow his logic to defeat me.

After all what did I care about the foundry? This wasn't my future. I was creating my future. But for now, was it that terrible to want to hang onto a few bread crumbs of my youth. Besides I had noticed an interesting pattern concerning baseball. Cindy Sue fancied herself a fan of the game. And on more than one occasion she could be found hanging out around the ball park. But mister frozen heart himself he wouldn't understand that. But maybe he would understand his own words.

I narrowed the distance between us nearly crawled right into his space. Confrontation was not my norm. But I was mad and I even if I wanted to hold back I couldn't. "Now you're quoting rules. Rule number one you can't go back." I said mimicking him and rocking my shoulders with my chest puffed out. "Why if I had a penny for every time you talked about the good ole days, I'd be rubbing elbows with John D Rockefeller himself. And aren't you the same guy who said rules when misused can build a cage around your imagination, become iron bars for the soul? Most folks that don't know em, are the first to let you know you're breaking em. Sound familiar?" He didn't even flinch. Preacher had talked about Lot's wife turning to salt. Hadn't thought it possible until I witnessed the cold stone figure of Markus. I continued anyway. Needed to get it out of my system.

Well let me tell you something. Pirates paying $1500 dollars a year during the season, and heck of a lot more selling these bricks after the season. They call em spokesman. Being famous and all, folks want a be like em. There likeable people to start with, cause they like their life. Is that so hard to understand?" I caught myself nearly yelling and I backed away. My face turned red. I was embarrassed I had lost my cool. I was disrespectful and that weren't my nature. I backed away hoping maybe something anything I said had reached the inner core. Surely there was some compassion in this man. But to no surprise, he came back with no remorse no empathy just the same twisted logical emotionless sourpuss old soul he was.

"Rubbish," came from his mouth with a tenacious scowl for emphasis. "Engineers sale our bricks, men of knowledge, not men that hit baseballs. And why would you want to rub elbows with John Rockefeller? He's arrogant and boorish, trust me, I know."

As always Markus either refused to listen or spent far too much time in his own world to see another's perspective. It irritated me even more to have to explain myself. "I don't want to meet him its figure of speech."

"Oh," he said. "Well, just in case you do, I've warned you. But in matters of this child's game of baseball. I'll entertain your little drama you've provided today. By what means can you even say your qualified, or possess the aptitude to succeed in this game of baseball?" He tapped his long skinny finger on my head. "You're a smart young boy. That's a good start, only got a nanosecond or two to figure out if your gonna swing. Good eye sight. That helps, specially figuring out what type of spin the man's throwing at you. Help you position the bat maybe chop it, maybe up cut it. Thin build possibly quick twitching muscles help you compensate for your longer frame. You find yourself crouching little more than most. You sit back off the plate. Don't like to crowd it." I nodded yes, maybe a lucky guess on his part. "You also hug the back of the plate, darn near eating out of the catcher's mitt." I again I nodded, now a little freaked out he was spying on me. "That's all good. You need that much to make up for those long legs and lanky arms of yours. And that's we're it all starts falling apart for you. Mound adds a little height to the angle of the projectile. Ball comes bearing down on you, little deceiving given your height. Sure, you hit a fastball pretty darn consistent I bet. And if that's all them boys threw in the big leagues, why you'd find yourself one of those cushy jobs selling bricks in the off season. But that's not all they throw, I'll bet it's just plan painful watching your body mechanics in contortion to swatting away at a curve ball, and slider will we won't go there. Oh, genetics can be a wonderful or terrible thing he said lifting his arms to allow a better view of his own twisted battered body. Now the next few words out of his mouth even stranger especially considering he caught himself. "Oh yes genetics, now take your Paw, little more compact in size, someone like that wouldn't struggle with a curve. .. well never mind that. Rule number two nothing trumps lady luck and fame always takes more than it gives. Your luck my friend, is here. And that's where you should focus your attention."

I was confused how in god's creation did me being right turn into a lesson for myself. Seemed the road with Markus always ended that way with me. I didn't know it then, but I do now, and I was getting ready to learn a lot I didn't know. The next words out of my mouth were spoken softly and without malice maybe more for my own benefit. "I guess someone like you just wouldn't understand."

Markus's eyebrow shot upward, maybe he felt I gave him backtalk, maybe out of genuine curiosity. But I was gonna get an earful either way. "Not understand? Please explain to me the wisdom for which you have come to understand, and I so incapable of learning." He said with the upmost pretenses voice and mannerism. "Or are you going to stand there like a nipple fed nurse maid."

I stared at Markus almost in tears. Tears of anger and frustration. I was done battling with him. But he was relentless. I had played his game, done as he asked. Went beyond the call of duty. Thickened my skin to absorb his callous sarcastic remarks day after day after day. Payed my dues so to speak. For which he had often preached. I had not started the day wanting to find the essence to what made such a miserable man exist, but I was soon to find myself square in its pathway.

"It's not just fame and fortune. It's for the love of something. That's what I find hard for you maybe to understand. And that maybe is the saddest thing about you. Have you ever loved anything or anybody for that matter besides your stupid graphs and data and bricks?"

I stood froze not believing the words had come out of my mouth.

Markus on the other hand gave back the least expected of reactions I would believe my words would produce. He started to chuckle at first then broke into a laughter that echoed louder than the church bells on Sunday. "Love?" He finally managed to say between his bouts of laughter. "Love. .. Yes.... yes, please school me on love. Gather around kittens," he said prodding them with outstretched welcoming hands. "Teach us teacher. Teach me how the wisdom of your years has taught you so much about the ever-elusive quest for love. "The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. Free my soul to understand love so that I may be spared its wrath." His eyes rose and met mine. These were not the ornery, conceited eyes I was used to, but instead tormented eyes with deep pain.

Had I not in that moment locked eyes with Markus who rarely gave one the opportunity, (or at least one engaged with him the presence of mind while shielding his attacks) I would have never been given the opportunity to jump down the rabbit hole to where his essence lived. I've heard one's eyes are the window to one's soul. At that moment Markus was allowing a rare passage to his being.

Now engaged in this window, it became clear as crystal, an awakening of sorts. I could see in his eyes the anger the sadness that dwelt from within. In that moment when I should have felt attacked I think I came to know Markus better than I ever had. He was not born into a life of sadness; his learning had not created it. Plain and simple somewhere along the journey, something . . . better yet someone had broken his heart. I felt compelled to share mine.

"Her name is Cindy Sue I said. It's not for fame or fortune. It's simply because for a guy like me, from the wrong side of the tracks ... I can only catch her attention at the ball field. It's that simple. So I put my heart on the line, stand in the box and pray the man throws fastballs so I may capture hers."

His eyes softened, his mouth almost curled into a smile but lacked the training of muscles to keep it. "Ah I see.... My Cindy Sue was Renata. A beautiful Norwegian woman, she had the kindest eyes and a smile that enchanted every man that set eyes on her. But she was mine and mine alone, we were lover's soulmates, young and full of life. She beauty, I the beast, at least outwardly, I weren't always as bitter. Her beauty shined from outside and most importantly inside. She saw what others couldn't, the beauty from within. In her presence I was the contrast to the man I now I'm. .. .. ." He paused his smile, his head dropped to the ground. "But she ... she was mine only for a brief time." He lifted his head, I could see the pain in his eyes. "I ponder often if it would have been better to have never laid eyes on her....never been given the gift of her love. Spared the pain of her memory. Oh god only knows how often I prayed I would wake up and she was the love of another, one that couldn't haunt my every thought. Possess me. In all the wisdom I have seek, in every bit of knowledge that has passed between my mind. I have done nothing but tired my soul and body to try and understand if love is indeed a gift or simply a curse?" His head dropped again.

I reached over and put my hand on Markus. He lifted his head. A single tear developed. "I weren't always a recluse, or as I see the reflection in yours, and other eyes, a bitter old man. And my ambitions weren't always to hide away in the bowels of an abandoned section of a rotting foundry. I am a pitiful old bag of bones, which will only find joy in my last days."

I tried to comfort him. I could feel his pain, I lied. "Not everyone thinks that of you."

"They do." He shot back. "Don't think these walls are so thick I can't hear what's said behind them. Let alone see it in their eyes. It's true what they say; I was a doctor, and yes and evil one. Not for the sake of orphans or even kittens as some would believe. But an evil one that could not save the princess of my life..., she died in my arms, a carriage accident. She warned me the mare would have been a better choice given the weather. More gentle in nature. But I the proud young doctor wanted to be seen with my new purchase the strapping stud seven and half hands tall with hocks deep and a shining black coat, parading my princess bride through the streets, in full control and ownership. Yes, me the ugly crippled ogre, in all my glory all my pride sitting next to the crown jewel of my life. My new bride, for all to see and wish they were me." He hesitated, and I knew what came next would not be pleasant to hear.

"When the horse spooked, I believe ten men couldn't have pulled that carriage as hard as I did to try and save her. Atlas my body failed me, and she lay thrown with a deep cut from which her life swept away. Spent physically, I now tried with all the might of my mind to save her. Ah I was book smart but not practical smart, a new proud doctor full of knowledge.... full of himself, but not full of that which preserves life. Her last words would haunt me forever. She thought it sad if maybe there weren't an afterlife because her soul would be without her mate. She, I, would forever be incomplete."

I tried to hide my tears but no man with any small amount of emotions could have. I shook my head in disbelief guilty I had judged a man I really knew nothing about. All I could do was listen. There was nothing I could say. Nothing I could imagine to help his pain. He continued and I listened.

He shifted his tired body into his chair, defeated in his memory. "You know what's funny; he snickered nervously looking up at me. "Every day I walk into this foundry I see her name, Baroness Renata Nardino Serkell, the plague honoring her life at the entry gate. Yes, he said nodding her name, daughter of the Serkell family, owner of the foundry. That is why I am tolerated ... And every day when I walk through that gate, It reminds me the debt I owe her family legacy, the debt I owe to her memory. Even in her last words I am bound to this place. And there you have at least a part of me I have shared with few. Be careful with this Cindy Sue. As Shakespeare says. "The course of true love never did run smooth."

I stood almost in tears speechless what could I say, I had neither experienced love of that caliper or let alone felt the pain of its loss. For what seemed like eternity we stood together our minds our consciousness locked in that memory of his past that tortured him and held him prisoner to a future of guilt.

If it weren't for Markus returning to his façade of armor and closing the passage to his soul, we might have never moved from that point in time. Letting out a growl his demeanor hardened again. And he acted as if that small glimpse to his being never happened. "Poison that's what wanting what ain't meant to be will get you, flat out poison to the mind. And an idle mind is the devils workshop. Don't let it wander, learn to be satisfied with what you got, not what you wished you had. These brickyards have given more life to folks and their families then your game of baseball ever could. You wouldn't need to go any further then your father to realize that."

He had said it again. The comment about my Paw. I was inclined to ask why, but knew this was not the time. When would be the right time with Markus was hard to tell. It was never easy to follow his thought and whether someone schooled in psychology could explain it, I don't know. As always, his demeanor and line of dialogue caught me off guard. A walking contradiction at times. Almost as if he hypnotized me, brought me in, then put me out, like a bad setup to a bad joke. Maybe this is how genius works, a balance between insanity and truth. At least for now I had been given a glimpse to his madness that haunted him.

My thoughts were interrupted as the door pushed open and in walked an older white bearded gentleman plump, well dressed and locks of white hair coming down from his fedora hat. Two-other men followed, immediately catching my eye. Both barely stood more than 3 foot high. They were lavishly dressed in ruffled shirts and black tailcoat tuxedo. Both wore a stovetop hat adding a half a foot to their size and covering their ears. They looked more like penguins then people. But happy penguins nevertheless with constant smiles on their face. When I took a better look the older bearded gentleman I swear was a dead ringer for the Macy department store Santa.

Markus immediately leaped from his chair as if he had been commanded by supernatural powers. I hadn't thought the old man still had that type of spring in his body. Even more to my surprise he was warm and gracious, one could even say accommodating if he didn't know the true colors of Markus.

At any rate it was obvious he held this man in high esteem and for Markus that was a rare occurrence. All the normal things one would NOT! Expect to hear from Markus expelled from his mouth. I swear the Sunday preacher had talked about spirit possession and tongues, but I never thought I'd witness it. "Would you like some tea, please let me take that coat from you. My my you must all be tired from your long journey. Please have a seat. He said shooing away the cat and fluffing the worn-out seat cushions. Why he was so excited and giddy to see his guest he almost forgot I was there accept for the gentleman introducing himself.

"It's nice to meet you Christian the jolly man said extending his hand. "I'm Mister Claus; I almost chuckled hearing his name had my mind not fixated on him knowing mine.

"You know me? We've met?" I asked.

"Now, now," Markus said in a cheerful kind way beaming his smile that almost looked painful for him as he led me towards the door. "Of course he does. He is aware of all our staff here at the foundry. Now you move along. I hope I have made my point concerning your duties here at the foundry. Again top secret. Remember when I was a child I did as a child and now as a man I do as such." I could only nod. Anything else would have been confrontational, besides as always, he had plumb worn me out.

Walking home that night, trying to sort through my dilemma, I hadn't noticed the snow start to fall and stick. (Strange for this time of year, but I suppose stranger things have happen.) Nor that I had strayed off past my road, straight to the ball field which put me looking dead center with the young girl that occupied my mind. Had I not been schooled a hundred times by Markus that only probability and not fate guided us. I would have surely believed a force beyond chance had put us on the same path? She sat in the dugout of the baseball diamond reading a red book. In the distance mending the fence Coach Sembachie. I walked over to her. What are you doing here?"

She smiled looking me over and pointed to the coach mending the fence. "Waiting on my daddy. Reading a book" she held the book up.

"Your dad? Coach?"

"Un Hun."

"Oh." I said half surprised and now in the know why baseball and Cindy Sue seemed to cross paths. For a moment I just stared at the ground, nervous not sure what to say.

She finally broke the ice. "You sat two rows behind me in Mr. Baker's chemistry class. Didn't you?"

I nodded. "Yeah that's me. I'm Christian."

"I'm Cindy Sue."

"I know that we met before, years ago at Mr. Holbrook's pond ice skating. You probably don't remember?"

She smiled blushing. "It was a beautiful day. How could I forget?" Her recollection brought a smile to my face. "It kept snowing. We made snow angels together."

Those words crushed me. "That was Chip Dorkin. You know class most likely to succeed, best looking. Heard the Pirates offered him a tryout? That guys way to much an overachiever." I joked. "Anyway you got the snow right, seems every time we meet its snows. You notice that?"

She smiled.

"Cindy Sue!" Dorsey spurted out gazing towards his gram. That's Memaws name." His sister Casey shushed him.

I smiled at Dorsey raising my finger to my lips and did the same. "Don't give away any secrets to the story. Remember fate is the hunter."

He looked around the room then winked back at me to assure our secret was sealed between the two of us. "Fate is the hunter," he repeated convinced he would soon hear about the hunter. I continued with the story.

I loosened up figuring I had nothing to lose. The questions seemed to come more natural. I noticed a bag with candles she had next to her. "Selling candles for school?"

"Yeah," she replied looking down at the bag. "Christmas incense to raise money for the homeless shelter. Frankincense and Myrrh, would you like to help and buy some? They make great Christmas gifts. You don't have to pay until they come in. I think we get the orders last week before Christmas. These are just display candles."

"Sure," I said smiling. "Put me down for two orders." She marked her order form. Then handed me two vials that looked like perfume bottles.

"What's that?" I asked not taking them.

"Frankincense and myrrh samples, maybe you'd like to order some for your mums."

"Do you like em?"

"Love em," she said smiling handing me the samples. This time I accepted them.

"Put me down for two of each."

"Two of each you sure?" She smiled.

"I'm sure," I said smiling back at her.

"I'll make sure you get it before Christmas." I nodded then we took turns staring at everything else except each other. She finally picked her book up and put it in her lap.

I took the bottles and shoved them in my jacket. "What are you reading?" I asked.

"Oh this?" She said as if she wasn't aware of her prop."The Greatest Gift by Philip van Doren." She replied fondly holding the cover up.

"Hum can't say I've ever heard of it. They haven't made a comic book out of it have they?"

"No, it's a hardback book. Every body's reading it. Hollywood's making movie about it. It's a Christmas tale about a man who jumps off a bridge and is saved by an angel who calls himself Clarence." My eyes fixated on her hands slowly stroking her long blonde locks of hair. She mesmerized me. It wasn't fair. I got tongue tied again. So much for nothing to lose." She continued but I heard only a few words. "You see he's an angel trying to get his wings and..." She stopped mid-sentence. "Are you listening to me? Oh it doesn't matter I shouldn't spoil it if ... you know if maybe you might want to wait for the movie."

I nodded still in a trance. "Ain't seen many big pictures," Is all l could utter.

Cindy Sue however seemed quite capable of keeping the conversation alive. One sided or not. "Oh, I just love the big screen, Clark Gable I adore him. And Viven Leigh Scarlett, Momma says I act just like her. Can't wait to see the new Judy Garland movie. Just ain't found anyone to go with yet. You see it yet?"

"Nah not much into movies." I said missing the bait like a knucklehead. "But I did see Henry Ford in Jess James. Now that was good one."

Her fingers again went to work twirling her long lock of hair. And like a magnet my eyes followed each stroke. She battered her eyes. "So, you do like to see movies then?" She asked casting the bait one last time. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't know."

Her eyes focused in on mine she stopped stroking her hair a determined frown took over her demeanor. "For heavens sakes Christian, are you gonna ask me out to the movies or not?"

Now I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, and I might not have half to offer what the all-American boy Chip Dorkin had, but unless my ears had just deceived me, Cindy Sue had just asked me out.

"Well?" she said her hands firmly planted at her side. "What's it gonna be boy? Yes? Or no?"

I smiled, and our eyes met. Like two lost souls that had finally cracked through impenetrable barriers to finally reunite. "I like Judy Garland." I said without even knowing who she was. "Sure I'd love to see the movie with you."

She returned the smile. "There, now was that that hard? Premiers next week, you write that down in your calendar Christian. You hear me?"

"Christian." the coach said touting some fencing mending equipment. "How you doing my boy? I see you met my daughter."

I smiled. "Yes sir, we have chemistry together."

His mannerisms went on guard, as any father's does. "Hum chemistry together?" He repeated then realizing I meant school chemistry. "Will that's nice, you gonna make it for the tryouts? Next Saturday be here or be square." He pretended to swing through the air with a bat.

"Of course he well," Cindy Sue said rolling her eyes embarrassed by his so uncool 'be square or here comment.' "Afterwards were going to a matinee."

"Oh okay," the coach said revisiting the chemistry comment in his mind. "Guess will see you then."

"Perfect," she said. "I can meet you after tryouts and still make it to the Wizard of Oz opening."

Had I not been caught up in the excitement and date with Cindy Sue I'd have done the math sooner and realized the pickle I found myself in with my prior commitment to Markus.

Chapter

In my walk home all I could do is question myself for being so sheepish in agreement to a predicament that logistically seemed impossible. By the time I walked in I hadn't even made it past the kitchen before a scolding from me Maw forced me to address my shoe issue leaving puddles of water in my footsteps.

We came from a house of love, but if you didn't already know it you weren't gonna be taught it. "Shoes. Shoes. Shoes. This isn't a barn," is all I heard before a dish towel smacked me on the back of the head. A stern look followed from my Paw for being late for dinner. After this show of affection and dirty looks from my siblings the Lord's Prayer was said and like starving savages and pilgrims we all dove into our plates.

For the most part dinner was quiet, then Papa asked me a peculiar question. A work question which was as rare as any question coming from my Papa. "Notice anything out of the ordinary bout Markus?"

I stopped shoving food in my mouth for a moment and stared upward thinking it would help jingle a memory. Everything about Markus stood firmly on the grounds of out of the ordinary. "What do you mean?" I asked slightly puzzled.

"Clients new customers," he shot back.

Without lifting my head, I just nodded yes

"And....?"

"And what?" I asked reaching over the table and grabbing a dinner role.

"Did he say where or who they were?"

"No," I said my face buried in my food not even batting an eye upward. "Speaking of Markus, how well do you too know each other?"

"Why?" my Paw asked. "Did he say something about me? Us?"

I thought about his question. "Nah not really."

"Hun, "my Paw grunted. "Well what about his visitors? Did you meet em?"

I froze for a moment almost spit my food out. Markus's words resounded "Top Secret," I could hear his monotone voice cracking in my head. I couldn't lie to Paw, but I did take an oath with Markus. And Paw always said a man's word was all he really ever had. Talk about a quagmire. "I just shook my head and acted like the food that was now churning my stomach meant more.

My Paw stared at me for a minute, I'm sure to evaluate the truthfulness. Satisfied, he went back to delighting himself in his own plate of food. I let out a sigh of relief, hoping the interrogation was over. Besides I had questions of my own. "Paw you think love is a cruel predator that preys on naïve souls." I threw it out to Paw but in true fashion to the question, he ignored it and it deflected to Maw.

Now who in god's name would tell a boy such a foolish thing? Are they teaching you that in school?" Maw asked. I looked at Paw and I think he already knew where that question came from but shy'd as far away from it as he could. Fact is he looked about as uncomfortable with the question like he was holding gas in.

"Markus," I said.

Maw's eyes with that worried look a mother gets, deferred her eyes to Paw for guidance and support. She continued. "What else did he say?"

"Nothing much," I said putting a good helping of butter on my dinner role. "Just well, the accident and all."

The conversation paused. I looked up wondering what caused the log jam. Paws and Maws eyes widened. Looked like two full moon from where I was sitting. You'd thought I asked to run off and join the circus or pledge my allegiance to the flat world society. It was obviously a delicate subject matter. Maw's eyes watered slightly. "Well honey Mr. Markus, has seen some terrible things. I pray the good lord fines a way to heal his heart; it's a heavy burden he carries." And with that it was the end of that conversation.

Paw put his fork down, pushed his chair back and Maw in response scurried to his setting and gathered up his dish for cleaning. For a moment he picked at his teeth for some grit of meat stuck between it then picked up the conversation where we had left off, void of the question of the heart.

"How about a tall guy, say about six feet or better, bleached blonde hair slicked over to one side. Boisterous in nature, entourage to boot following him stroking his ego the whole way. "You meet him?" He asked leaning back in his chair.

A memory struck me like lighting from the day before. That same herd of buffalo almost stampeded me led by the blonde-haired man as he stormed out of Markus's office. That's when our eyes met and if am lucky to never meet the devil himself, this man I'm sure was at least kin. I nodded yes.

"That would be our new owner Mr. Slump. Mind your manners around him. Rich fella from New York City. Made his fortune in department stores and properties. Heavily vested in steel too. That worries me. Seems its coming down to metal or brick. Ones gotta eventually give in to the other. Paw pulled his watch from his pocket. Then stood up. "Radio shows starting in about 15 minutes. Think I'll take my cider out on the porch tonight."

All his talk was fine with me. I had bigger and better things in life then make clay bricks even if Marcus believed they were the building block to the nation. In my mind it was best to leave building to builders as I had yet to make my fortune and fame capturing the hearts and souls of readers. As for my Paw since he showed little fear of new ownership I at such an early age had absolute no reason to allow myself to be concerned.

Yes, sir was all I could say. But boy was I ever wrong.

Chapter

By the time I made it outside Paw was already seated in his favorite wicker porch chair, tobacco pipe in mouth rocking back and forth and blowing smoke rings in the air. From open window you could hear the BBC news on the radio. I trotted down to the mailbox, as was more common lately in hopes to find my acceptance to the university. "Nothing" I said shutting the box. I sat down on the step next to Paws chair and leaned my back on the rail. My younger brothers were playing stick ball in the street and sis and a friend, hopscotch. Watching them triggered Markus's words. When I was a child I did as a child, when a man as a man. All that did with my current dilemma was reminding me how; I was neither a child or man.

Paw stopped rocking in his chair. "What got your head spinning?" Paw asked. "Seems you've had a lot on your mind lately."

"You can say that again." I turned to him, who better to turn too. "Paw you ever been in a crossroad before. Where there don't seem to be a right answer or a right path to choose. It's like I'm staring into the jungle. It's green and alive everywhere. And I can hear the monkey's chatter and roar of the lions. And it's all very inviting, exciting, my hearts skipping a beat just to want a take the first step. But I can't."

Paw stopped rocking and pulled his pipe from his mouth. "Well is it you can't take the first step or don't want too. Excitements nice and all but it sounds a whole lot safer on the outskirts of the jungle." He put the pipe back in his mouth and started rocking again then stopped and held his pipe again. "I'll give you little advice while you're contemplating that. There ain't no right path there's simply two paths in a crossroad. Not saying choices don't matter, but it is a matter of perspectives, and perspectives change. The jungle will look far different in the near future." He put the pipe back in his mouth and started rocking again.

I thought about it for a moment. "He was right. My biggest fear was making the wrong choice. A passage of rites to manhood, once given it, mistakes were not acceptable. At least that's how I viewed my Paw. He was more solid then the strongest brick the foundry made. I simply had never seen him make the wrong choice. If baseball and the night with Cindy Sue were what I wanted to be then so be it, if the world crumbled behind me at the foundry, so be it. After all I wasn't that far removed from playing stickball in the streets. There'd be plenty of time for responsibility and I to meet further down the road.

"Of course," my Paw said, knocking the spent tobacco from his pipe and stationary in his rocker. "They say you can never go back."

I stared at him for a moment. "You know Markus always says the same thing. Then he'll proceed to lecture me on how good the past was. Was the past really that good Paw?"

He again knocked his pipe on the railing to dislodge any remaining residue. "I don't know son. For some, I guess that'd be true. No guarantee things will get better in the future, but if you keep visiting the past eventually you lose your way to the future." He packed a fresh heaping of tobacco in his pipe. "But I guess I always took that meaning as do your best no matter what you do. No matter what you choose. Course you got to jump in feet first to experience it." He put the pipe now packed with new tobacco in his mouth, lit it and started rocking again.

And now my head which before was spinning, was now rocking trying to sort out the new wisdom. Tending to my own selfish needs wasn't the best I could do. And with Markus there would be no second chance to redo. I knew one thing for sure, all these wise quotes from those I admired, seemed to confuse and contradict me more than answer any of my questions. I was beginning to wonder if I was just that dull minded or that the secret was nobody really knew the answer to any of this craziness we call life.

The radio broadcast news filled the airwaves, and for the moment seemed to melt away my own concerns. Half the stuff you heard on the radio sounded like right out of the mouth of a snake oil salesmen. Kind of if you don't listen you're un-informed or you do listen, your misinformed. But in my Paw's household when Ed Murrow from the BBC spoke, you better listen up and give him the same reverence as Moses' coming down Mount Sinai holding the tablets.

After the broadcast Paw sat shaking his head, frustrated by the news. "It's not good what I'm hearing, not good at all. His eyes got intense. He had a sixth sense about pending trouble. "Things are getting all worked up in Europe, all this talk of fatherland."

"What's wrong with pride in your country Paw, I thought that was good."

Paw stopped rocking. "Well nothing as long as you know there's a very fine line between nationalism and separatism. This man stirring up all the crowds, he's stirring up anger. And anger ain't happy until it gives birth to pain. You mark my words. I hope I'm wrong but something evils brewing over seas. Later unfortunately, my Paw's premonition would materialize from the dark soul of one man unchecked besieging a country under the banner of pride and nationalism, leaving in its wake a scourge of death and disparity that would stain mankind forever.

The next morning after a quick breakfast, my Paw and I headed to work together. I would like to believe he enjoyed the walks as much as I. It usually centered on nothing more than small talk. How the Pirates might fare this spring, how the price of bread and milk had sky rocketed to near a nickel, and how shoeless Joe Jackson would dominate if the league would let him back in. This day it was a tad bit chilly, overcast, with a small sprinkle of rain. And I'm not sure if my concerns of my impending crossroads, or gloomy rain but I felt a sense of apprehension. Soon enough I found, my apprehension did indeed have roots. Reaching the gates, Joe the security guard who rarely nodded a hello or goodbye almost tripped over his chair scrambling to catch me before I went in.

"Hey," he said pointing to me. "You're Christian Steckell, aren't you?"

"I am." I nodded glancing over at my Paw, who appeared as surprised as me.

"What'd you want with the boy? He ain't in any trouble, is he?" My Paw asked.

"Don't know," the guard responded. "Front office called sez make sure before Christian does anything else I sends him to the office. Must be pretty important, ain't never had to do this before."

My Paw gave me that look, one that usually came with a good scolding at the end. I shrugged my shoulders not sure whether I should be more frightened by the front office calling or the look my Paw was giving me. Being summoned to the front office never seemed to have good intention. I'd learned that much back in early grade school. Maybe cause they always seemed so industrialized, just white boxes with windows and a door. Nothing inviting. No personal touch or welcome signs. At least Markus's office hidden in the old dreary end of the building, seemed to have a distinct feel to it. His desk was hard oak wood not metal. His chairs cushioned and worn, papers and books disorganized, plants of different shades of green. Personal pictures, Nietzsche, Descartes to name a few, be it a motivator or influencer, not just the sitting presidents picture. Maybe it was the cats, but his office was alive, with natural colors, smells and shapes that broke the law of symmetry and order. In contrast the front office had unnatural light, dull and symmetric. Orderly like one would suppose a prison to be.

Reaching the windows of the central office, I could see through the half-drawn cream faded dust covered vertical blinds. In the back room standing I saw the outline of Norris Noodles the new general manager Mr. Slump has brought with him from New York. He was hard not to forget, with his square plumb build completely bald head and a bad case of rosacea with red cheeks and red nose. I'd had guessed him mid Fifties, but rumor had him mid-forties. Next to him suits. And gathered in the center, Mr. Slump. Margret his secretary, thin and wired with a Teflon attitude, equal in her looks, motioned me into the first room.

"Get in boy and shut that door before all the warm air escapes. I'll not freeze the remainder of the day on the account of you." I nodded shutting the door behind me. She'd be a good match for Markus I thought as my first impression of her.

I smiled an awkward smile. One that had guilt written all over it but wasn't sure what I was guilty of. "Will sit down." She demanded. "Your making me nervous just standing there. Don't the school's teach any manners anymore?" I sat down immediately.

"I'm Christian Steckell."

"I am full aware who you are. Who do you think had to track you down this morning. Only god knows what kind of trouble brought you here. Well sit there and don't interrupt another word. I've got enough work to do without babysitting a daft boy still wet behind the ears. Good lord have mercy on your father's patience. If your grow up to be half the man he is, well then, you'd have accomplished something for yourself."

I tried not to be rude and stare at her. But I swear her actions and vernacular matched Markus's to the penny. Perhaps as the great divide between management and those outside the office. I'm sure her tough exterior kept most in check. The longer I sat there with my hands tucked under my knees the more I tried to replay any event that might have put me here. I hadn't screwed up any orders from Markus. Never missed a day of work. Never late. Late wait a second, Lunch, it hit me. The day poor Mister James who's coke bottle classes did little to help his sight double punched my card in error. It looked as though I had taken two lunches. Well that was just swell, but at least now I had an alibi. The knock on the glass door by Mister Noodles spooked me and I jumped straight back in my chair. With his short stubby finger he pointed at me. "Get on in here boy I heard him say through the glass.

I got up straighten my shirt and made sure the back tail was tucked in. For reassurance, I took one last look at Margret, if not to say call help if you see blood, but got only a stern look in return.

"Come in my boy." Noodles said, wrapping his arm around me as if we were long lost friends. "Want you to meet someone." He closed the door behind me. It creaked like a closing of a tomb. I felt enclosed in a shark tank. "Come boy, I want you to meet a very very special man. Christian meet Mr. Slump."

The blonde headed man with the hair combed over one side stepped forward and reached out his hands. They were small and delicate for a man of his statue.

"Wonderful boy." Mr. Slump said looking over at Noodles who immediately agreed. "Very pleased to meet you I have heard wonderful things about you. Its young men like you that are going to make this place great again that I promise you. You want this place to be great again don't you?" He kept holding my hand, longer then a natural handshake.

I said nothing at first not sure how to respond. "Speak up boy Mr. Noodle prodded me patting me hard on the back."Let Mr. Slump know you're part of the team. You want us to be great again don't you?"

I looked around the room. The rest of the suits said nothing but nodded, so I nodded yes too. Who doesn't want to make the team?

"Very smart young man." Slump said. "Didn't I tell you this boy is a very smart young boy? I can pick a winner. Better than anybody can."

He finally let go of my hand "Have we met? I never forget a face, never. I've got a very high IQ you know." I do he said to Noodles. "Tested it myself very high scores possibly the highest scores ever. Higher than anybody. Everybody was amazed by my scores." The suits all nodded with a smile, I would learn they did little more than nod yes, but never spoke.

"Well speak up boy." Noodles chimed in

"You were leaving Markus office as I was bringing the samples for the day."

"Ah yes, yes, Markus a peculiar man." Slump said. "Of course, that's to be expected. He's not like you and I."

"What do you mean." I asked

"Have a seat boy." Slump said rubbing his chin and pulling a chair up next to me. "Let's see. How should I put this? Well you see boy he's not from the north." He twisted himself around where Noodle's was darned neared crawled up in his shirt hovering over Slump. "Right Noodles? Wouldn't you agree with that?" His head couldn't have shaken any faster to agree.

"One hundred percent," Mr. Slump.

"He's from France." I said confused to where this was going.

"Ah," Slump said with a smile like a light bulb was going off. France of course. He turned again to Noodles and then the rest of the suits. "I was gonna say France right before the boy said it. I was thinking it. Maybe before the boy was thinking to say it, but I didn't say it first, but I was definitely thinking it first. Wonderful country France. Eiffel tower, wow! Big steel. Tall, tall and big. These French people, they know steel. Don't buy enough of ours, but they know steel. Were gonna change all that. Right Noodles? Right guys?" Noodles nodded yes as did the suits."

"Why would we sell them steel? Don't we make bricks?"

Slump thought for a moment. "Wonderful observation son. Of course we make bricks. The finest bricks ever made. Maybe finer then the worlds ever seen. Isn't that right Noodles?" He turned back to me and put his hand on my knee to get my full attention. "But now listen here son, let's get back to our discussion about Markus. Now we both agree he's different."

"We do? I mean if you mean he's French yes I agree."

"Excellent then we both agree?" He said to me then turned to Noodles, then his entourage of suits. "That's wonderful how minds can come together under the right leadership. Isn't that right Noodles? Frenchie is his new name. You know like that little cartoon character Frenchie. That's what will call him. Frenchie. Everyone agree?"

The suits shook their heads first, followed by Noodles, then Slump and before I knew it I was shaking my head in agreement to what I wasn't even sure I agree to.

In the interim of all the head shaking our meeting was interrupted by a delivery of a silver tree that had the shape of a Christmas tree.

"The tree in the living room." Dorsey cried out breaking my attention away from the tale and getting the evil eye from Casey for interrupting the story.

"Yes," I said, but not that exact tree. But one just like it. And if you could have seen the excitement on Mr. Slumps face in that office that day it was delivered you would have sworn every home in the world would someday have one, given his enthusiasm.

"Put it right here Slump said pointing to the center of the room. Oh it's just a marvelous tree." He stood back to admire it. "Gentlemen I give you the future. The silver Christmas tree. It speaks what were all thinking, Christmas in July."

"Christmas in July." I repeated.

"Exactly," Slump continued with even more enthusiasm. "Why waste such a beautiful holiday on winter. Most people would prefer Christmas in July you know. They really would. No more nasty cold Christmas day. I can't believe I came up with such a tremendous idea. It's like the folks who came up with the tower. That's when it first hit me. The Eiffel tower all metal wonderful. Big and shiny and metal, metal like the worlds never seen before. Looks like a big Christmas tree. Oh they know how to put on a show overseas. Parades, marvelous parades, the best. Noodles! What's that president's name over in Italy? Just a fine man. His people love him. Give him parades. Fabulous parades. Yes sir, that's loyalty."

"Ah, Mussolini, I think you're talking about. He's actually ah . .. " Noodles cleared his throat. "A . .. ah Dictator, sir. I don't think they have a choice in the matter."

Slump heard his word's. Even seemed to take a moment to ponder them, but in the end, the words fell short of registering. "Yeah that's his name. Fine man. And that fella from Germany, maybe even finer parades. You know Noodles I think I'd like that. You know parades. Maybe we could get the folks here at the foundry to kick this Christmas in July off with a parade this summer." Noodles deferred to the suits, who acknowledged with a nod. Slump smiled.

"Well what do we have Noodles, eight months, nine months until Christmas? I want you to get right on this. That back foundry, yeah where Frenchie stays were gonna use that. Silver trees everywhere. I want to see silver everywhere. I want you on that Noodles. I got big plans. Gonna start making our own tree's right here. Don't care what it cost. Gonna brings jobs here. And the kids, silver trees their gonna love it. Right Noodles? For the kids. That's right Christmas in July. And parade, need to get on that. Big, maybe even bigger than those fella's overseas. You hear me Noodles? I'm counting on you."

I gave the tree a good looking over. Slump had to be a visionary, cause I can't imagine a kid I knew that would take that silver tree over a true blue spruce Christmas tree. And July, well that just seemed wrong.

Mr. Slump stopped mid-sentence seeing a bit of discouragement in his audiences face especially Noodles. "What Noodles speak up?"

"It's nothing sir it's just that..." he leaned over to Slump's side and whispered in his ear.

"Ah yes that is a problem ... I see. Never the less we have some time to work on that ... I'm sure Noodles you'll be able to find a solution for that. I want that old foundry to be full of these trees. Its gonna cost me a bundle. I'm gonna take a big hit on it. But I say hey it's for the kids you know? I want to make Christmas great again. Christmas in July what better then Christmas in July. "Margret," he hollered sticking his head out the door. "I want Christmas decorations, find some today. Lights big ones all over." He brushed his hands across the tree. "Everywhere lights the more the better. And put out a memo, mandatory parade participation. Christmas in July on the fourth." Noodles again whispered into Slumps ear. "How much would that cost us? Slump said out loud. "Scratch that Margret, retitle the memo, voluntary mandatory participation." Then smiled in satisfaction to his ingenuity on the matter.

The delivery driver handed Slump the delivery receipt. "I think it says no lights on tree." He pointed to the fire warning tag on the post of the tree. "Aluminum metal fire hazard." The grin dropped from Slumps face, but only momentarily. Just long enough for him to rip the tag off the tree. "Solutions, think outside the box boys."

"Yes sir this is the future of Christmas. Christmas in July." He turned back to me. "Okay whoopee I get a little excited when I come up with these beautiful ideas. But let's get back to Frenchie. Now boy this is all top secret. I'm gonna need your complete loyalty on all this. Noodles swear the boy in. We're gonna have to make him a special agent. You'd like that wouldn't you boy?" I nodded what else could I do. I felt like I was part of a carnival show. And Slump was the ring master. "Fine fine choice. Noodles give him the pin. Yeah yeah that one on your tie, take it off and put it on the boy."

Noodles was certainly hesitant but still complied. When he pinned it on my chest he poked me twice as his hands shook maybe in anger. After all it was his silver thirty-year service pin he prized most of anything.

"Excellent Slump said, now it's official. You're a secret agent of the highest rank. Now here's what I need. You like the pin right." I nodded yes but I really didn't care. "Excellent, fine boy." Slump put his arm around my shoulders pulling me closer to him. "Now as a secret agent, I'm gonna tell you a little story. This Frenchie guy."

"You mean Markus?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah Frenchie, Markus, sure whatever. We got news on Frenchie; he's working with some foreign operatives. We think selling company secrets." Slump dramatically emphasized the next few words. "It's shameful just shameful." Slump's beady eyes widen, and he seemed full of spit and vinegar. "Were on to him and were gonna get that s... will you know what I mean. Any who, Noodles here will explain what we need from you, just keep a watchful eye that's all. You can do that kid can't you?" I nodded again, just because will that seemed what everybody did around this man whether they agreed with him or not. I was certain the operatives he spoke of, were the harmless group of folks Markus had come in from the North. Or was it I wondered?

Slump looked down at his watch. "Oh me oh my, I've got to be moving on." Passing Margret's desk with the calico cat perched on her desk, he let out a sneeze.

"What is that despicable dirty animal you have resting on your desk?"

"You mean the cat?" Margret asked.

"Yes exactly I mean the cat." He sneezed again.

"Well get rid of him. I won't have cats in this building they're dirty creatures sneaky and their fur is disgusting." He said letting out another sneeze.

"Well surely you don't mean that Mr. Slump?" Margret pleaded. "They help keep the mice away and besides their Markus's pets."

Wrong answer in Slump's mind, as the name echoed in his head. He lashed back at her, holding nothing back. "Frenchie, his new name is Frenchie. And all the more reason to rid this place of them! And as for mice, build a wall. A tall one that will keep those little rodents out. No mice, no cats."

"A wall?" Margret said, "but ...?"

"No buts. Noodles I want you to look into building a wall around the foundry. I want action now. Maybe decorate the wall with trees and parade around it. A big wall one like the worlds never seen before, one that will keep the mice away." Noodles nodded in compliance even though you could read in his face the absurdity of it all. Slump tugged on his jacket to straighten it tucking his thumbs inside the coat like a civil war General all decked out in uniform blues ready to be photographed. He had the most gleeful proud smile from ear to ear. "There you have it already, not here even a week and I've already made tremendous progress making this place great again."

Slumps entourage followed him out the door outside of nodding in agreement they seemed to serve no other purpose.

I started to walk out at which point Mr. Noodles motioned me to close the door, and nearly spun me around into a chair. His eyes like a hawk on prey fixated on my pin, or I guess his ex-pin. "Now listen here you snot nose little punk. Its time you realize who runs this show. From now on, your ears and eyes for me you got that. If Markus so much as steps on a crack I want no when and which crack. You got that?"

Now I needed that job, but I think there comes a point in any person's life that enough is enough. And the whole experience had been enough for me. "You mean Frenchie?" I said in ridicule just about fed up with this whole scheme. "Will sometimes you got to stick to your principles." I took the pin off and laid it on the table. "Maybe you need someone else to crack this case. I quit."

He stared at me like a cross eyed bull. "Why you little smart aleck ... you know exactly who I'm talking about. He said parting the rest of the distance between us. I think had I been a smaller man, he'd had taken a swat at me. But seeing my resolve he finally backed down.

"Fine, he said. "Principles, is an admirable thing. You want to leave, go ahead right there's the door. As I started to walk out a small smile of conceit swept ever so slightly across my face, it felt good to beat the bad guys.

Then the next few words spoke felt like a sucker punch in the back of my head. "But before you leave, you might want to round up your old man. Joseph? Be interesting to see how far principle goes to feeding the lot of your household or keeping a roof over your heads."

I turned around and he already had the pin in his hand. He handed it to me. And I put it back on. I bit my tongue but my eyes like a cobra cold and ready conveyed what the tongue knew better. Noodles smiled. "Then I guess we understand each other. Office politics are a dirty business; today you got a crash course."

"Mr. Slump know how you run your university?"

He snickered and this time the smile of conceit entered his face. "Been with him for thirty years. Where you think I got my schooling?"

I opened the door as if I submerge from under water. Margret's eyes were peering down on me burning heat on my collar, one more door to get through and of all people to be bump into on the other side, Markus.

"Who boy. You almost knocked me over. Slow down." He said. "And hold still your pin you got darn things nearly falling off. He said taking a look at it and straightening it. What kind of trouble you get yourself in getting called to the front office anyway?"

"They wanted me to meet the new owner. Can I go now? I got work to do."

"Meet the new owner? Why that's a tad bit peculiar they would bring a boy of your status to the front office to just meet the new owner." I could feel my face turning red. I gave him no response, my head held low. Best not to speak I thought. I'd had punched anything I could get my hands on and if I didn't get out soon Markus would have served the purpose. He stepped aside. "Very well I'll need those samples on my desk as soon as you can."

I scurried away like a mouse running for cover from the beating eyes of a wise old owl. By the time I reached the production line I was almost out of breath. I felt cornered, everything seemed to be backwards so to speak, baseball, girls, work now even the rock of Gibraltar, appeared to be an illusion. Just dust in the wind.

I stared mesmerized by the red hot roaring fire of the kiln heating ovens. Each individual spark of fire appeared to give life to the clay brick, cartoonish in nature but almost as real as you and me. A hallucination, a byproduct of all my stress I venture, or maybe just hypnotized by the flames of the fire. One brick in particular wore sunglasses while lounging on a fold out chair and sipping a fancy sassafras umbrella drink. "Come on in, temperature's just right," he said while applying what looked to be suntan lotion.

Oh how it would have solved every one of my problems. Just me and the fire brick sipping one of those fancy sassafras drinks with the decorative umbrella.

"How's your day going? Hot one today. Jump in, surfs up." I could hear the brick taunt me. Yes jump in I thought, just like that fellow in Cindy Sue's book it's a wonderful life, the bridge jumper.

"Be careful that fire gets pretty hot. Throws out some sparks once in a while." I heard a voice say, as if maybe the angel Clarence had materialized hoping to gain his wings.

I turned to see my Paw. "Oh hey. Yeah I guess my face is getting little warm."

"You okay son?" Paw asked sensing my confusion. His eyes went to the pin on my sweater. "Isn't that Noodles thirty-year silver pin?"

I rubbed my hand across it, then pulled it off putting it in my pocket. "Yeah a gift from Slump. Not sure Mr. Noodles was happy about it."

"Is that what the office call was all about?"

"Sort of but It's a long story Paw. I really don't feel like talking about it right now."

Three whistles went off signifying the town hall meeting in the cafeteria. Everybody that could, headed to meet, and greet with the new owner. At least you got a free sandwich if nothing else. (Funny how it comes down to a full belly, being the most content moments of our life.) That impressed most, even my Paw. "Class act," I heard the folks say. "Maybe this new owner will do some good things." If only they had known what I knew, newly schooled in office politics 101.

Cardboard party hats and noise makers you'd find on Time Square on New Year's Eve were given to each worker as he accepted his free sandwich. "What's this?" Paw asked the men passing the sandwich and party hats.

"Put it on when Slump shows up. Blow long and hard into the noise maker."

"Do we have to?" Paw asked.

"If you want a free sandwich you do. Now move along. The whole things gonna be starting soon."

I'd nearly choked on my sandwich seeing Paw in the silly paper hat and party razzle eating his free lunch.

Banners with 'SLUMP's' name in big bold print hung from the ceilings next to a podium setup in the front of the cafeteria. Confetti fell and his staged ensemble the noise makers sounded prompted by Slumps entourage. Who seemed more like name takers for those less enthusiastic to the new owner arrival.

And so, the promises began. As they fed Slump's ego with cheers, he fed the crowd with more and more promises. More pay, fewer hours, better benefits, all in the name of making the brick plant the crown jewel of American businesses. In the fever of the moment he even promised to build the wall to put an end to his perceived mice problem. Which at best might have been a small nest or two but still ignited chants of, "build the wall."

He had filled the room with hope, and his delivery better than a dizzy dean fastball. He had appealed to the masses, ignited their passion like kerosene on a fire. But to a keen eye not caught in the frenzy, the math was shady at best. It weren't that I was smarter than most folks, not by a long shot. I couldn't even feed myself or put a roof over my head without Paw's help. And things of that nature were forefront on most folks' mind.

We all need hope, I imagine we'd all go stir crazy without some light at the end of the tunnel. So in the good-natured spirit of humanity folks just gotta believe in something. And Slump sure knew how to package that something. Optimism is a beautiful thought but sometimes hides the true nature of how things really are.

Slump ended his day by 'treating' in his words, each worker the opportunity to watch him pilot his own biplane off the grass field pulling a banner with big bold print. 'SLUMP MAKING THINGS GREAT AGAIN.' The crowd with their full bellies and caught in his hypnotic grip cheered their new messiah. And I on the other hand tainted by the tree of knowledge, stood silent wondering what was to become of us.

What we wouldn't know until later, was what the big boxed wooden crate that sat unopened on dock three contained. At least not until kiln furnace three the largest furnace for brick baking, was shut down and the monstrous crate was unwrapped displaying what they called a metal extrusion. An automated machine that took the jobs of twenty for everyone it provided. And had the capacity to put out in one day, more silver Christmas trees then pine farms could grow in ten years.

Chapter

The night of my big weekend, I was still at work and my mind was still trying to find a way to make the tryout, make the date and complete my duties for Markus. Heading to the office to drop off my list of Markus's cracks, as Noodles called it, I wondered how long before they would figure out, all of it came straight from my detective comic books verbatim and in issue order. Noodles seemed weary of some of the outlandish observation; while Slump seemed completely convinced I was doing a fantastic job. It was late, and all had left so I slid the report under Noodles office door taking a moment to witness the silver tree fully decorated with lights regardless of the fire warning.

While viewing it my eye caught a beam of light reflected off dusts particles which cast a prism of brilliant colors fueling the strangest epiphany. Slices of memories danced in my head of years gone by, some as far back as one could remember, and others like yesterday. It made me wonder why and where did memories slumber. Did they make way for change?

After all didn't memories define who we were? Who we are? Why did one sparkle and others fade away? And then it occurred to me if the past defined me by these slices of present time frame experiences. Couldn't I in essence create my own future? Could it be that simple? To be or not to be. Yes, that was the answer to the question. What did I want to be?

Like a blacksmith the hammer my thoughts or memories, the anvil the stage of my present, the hot metal my future waiting to be forged. I just needed to believe I could do it, and do it, jump feet first in. I ran as quickly as I could to the lab flung open the door and began the mad odyssey of mixing the color-coded beakers of chemistry and applying it to the sample brick Markus had instructed to use. Shoving it in the kiln, before it was fully heated, it donned on me I had not followed Markus directions to a 'T'. Time, I thought, yes time I wouldn't have enough of it. I needed an accelerator, fuel of sorts, I scurried around the lab looking everywhere in cabinets under the desk until I found a can of kerosene bingo, that was it until I picked up the empty can. I gave up started to pull the keys from my coat pocket and inside felt the frankincense and myrrh perfume sample bottles Cindy Sue had given me. What the heck, oils their accelerants? I sprinkled them on the brick and shoved it in the kiln. Beautiful I said, then laughed realizing I sounded like Slump. Time was of the essence. I sprinted down the dark corridor forgetting to lock the door and made a mad rush to make my tryout.

When I got there, I barely had time to borrow a mitt and sneakers and join two other second base candidates that had the advantage of a few years of maturity. It was a relative clear day, but snow began to fall, and I shivered. Gusty winds and cold weather brought out the true grit for those that loved the game. The balls pinged off the frozen ground and the bat stung the batter's hands on contact.

I was prepared to do my best and what I lacked in size and age to the other ballers my enthusiasm more and made up for it especially when I spied Cindy Sue seated in the bleachers. It's amazing what a gal can bring out in a fella. By the end I felt I had given it my best and with a little luck a shot. Coach Sembachie had barely uttered his parting words before I grabbed Cindy Sue off the bleachers and darn near dragged her all the way to the cinema.

Now hurrying through some basic chemistry and even pushing the envelope on my tryout had worked out fine up to this point. But hurrying the girl of your dreams on your first date, that's just plain stupid. By the time I impatiently jittered in line waiting for tickets like I had ants in my pants and rushing to get our seat. Even though she tried her best to be a sport about it all, Cindy Sue seemed to be getting a little hot around the collar with me. Oh, if she had only known what I was trying to pull off that day. She would have inducted me in the dating hall of fame.

I can't say I remember all the conversation, but it sort of went like this.

Me: "You okay with these seats?"

Her: "There perfect."

Me: "(looking at my watch first) how long are these previews gonna last?"

Her: "(With a slightly agitated look) Why? Can't you just enjoy it?"

Me: (Realizing I need to get back to the lab) "I'll be back I'm gonna get some popcorn. You like chocolates?"

Her: "That would be nice."

So off I went making my great escape back to the factory by now the front gates where locked and the fire escape and window my only entry. The smell of peppermint, hit my nose first. When I opened the kiln and started to pull out the brick using my hands, it was smoldering, not a good move. When the air hit it ignited again and started glowing and to my surprise the most uncharacteristic and marvelous colors of red, green, and white, just like a candy stick engulfed the brick. Now don't ask me why but maybe curiosity's sake, I broke off a piece of the brick and tasted it, and I'll be darned if it didn't taste exactly like candy cane.

I did the weight calculation and scraped off a sample placing it under the microscope and checking for any impurities that might compromise the brick. (Which for all intensive purpose appeared more like a candy cane then brick.) Satisfied I had completed my duty I again started out the window when the meow of the cat reminded me things were going to get even trickier. Darn it I said looking at my watch. I got ten minutes before the butcher closes. Now covering 15 minutes of travel in ten minutes puts you right outside the Butcher's door as he's locking up for the day. The conversation kinda went like this.

Me: (Trying to catch my breath.) "Mr. Serirogo thank god I caught you."

The Butcher: "Why were closed for the day?"

Me: "You don't understand I need some beef for the kittens."

The Butcher: "kittens? I'd love to help ya, but I promised Mari I'd take her to the matinee. I'm afraid I'm already late. And making mama unhappy everyone's unhappy."

Me: (Standing with puppy dog eyes and wondering how Cindy Sue was getting along) "I understand." Even though I didn't.

The Butcher (Seeing my demise) "I'll tell you what. Got some gizzards and chicken bones scraps out in the back. You're welcome to it. A couple feral tomcats might give you a good run for it though."

Me (Hugging him in gratitude) "Thank you."

I thanked him too early, giving me a 'good run for it' was an understatement. What he considered a tomcat, I was sure a bobcat. A bobcat who wasn't giving his dinner away without a battle. "Here kitty, kitty," was a big mistake. By the time I took possession of the scraps and his gold, I had cuts and scratches down my face and arms. And with that I rushed in the back wrapped the chicken bones and gizzards and stuffed them in my pocket and ran full speed back to the theater back to my seat and barely got settled in before realizing I had not gotten the popcorn and candy. "Now Cindy Sue," I said looking back at Maw next to the mistletoe hanging over the den, "may be one of god's most patient understanding creatures on earth." I started to chuckle. "But remembering the look on her face that night, I realized I had tested it to its limits. You got to kind of picture it, to appreciate what I'm saying. Here's a boy out of his league with a chance of a lifetime next to the prettiest filly in the whole darn school. (Way out of my league.) I got turkey gizzards and chicken bones permeating through the packages stuffed in my pocket. I've already missed half of the movie, forgot the popcorn and candy and unbeknown to me, had a chemical reaction from tasting the brick that had temporally stained my teeth, tongue, and lips green red and white. And to boot all, scratches up and down my face and arms from tangling with the bobcat.

You'd think it couldn't have gotten any worse. And in my mind given a few rough spots, I was convinced I had pulled it off. Settling into my comfortable padded seat and soft head rest, I allowed myself to close my eyes, just for a second. But that second of eye rest, slipped beyond my intentions.

I fell asleep. I had hit a wall drained by fitting more in a day then a day allowed. When I woke, she was gone. Everyone was gone apart from the janitor who woke me while he swept the aisle. I had blown it. Maybe it didn't work that way for guys like Chip Dorkin, but for everyday guys like me, well you just don't get a chance like that but once in a lifetime. Maybe Markus was right. "Love is a cruel predator who preys on naïve souls."

Chapter

Maw approached me and whispered into my ear. "Alright now, this is a good time for intermission. This pretty filly here says there's cherry pie with vanilla ice cream and a topping of whip cream ready for you all. Uncle Johns still got plenty of the recipe for the adults. And I think I'll take a break and make a dash for some air." My son Tim followed me out to the patio. He had two glasses of Butch's homemade juiced white lightening mix. I lit my pipe and then took a sip from the glass.

"How you been holding up?" Tim asked.

"Good, good, yourself?"

"Not bad at all, jobs going good. Between the military and airline pension, I should be able to retire here in a few."

"I'm really proud of you son. Never thought we'd have a pilot in the family. Actually, at one point I was hoping you'd end in the brickyards. But I'm glad you didn't."

"Really? The brickyards? Why?"

"Not sure. Maybe cause that's what I did. Maybe I just thought that's how it works. I followed my Paw, you follow your Paw."

"You know I love your stories dad, shame sometimes I wonder what could have been for you. You could have been a heck of a writer. You got one incredible imagination. Do you ever wish you would have? You know wrote? Done something different with your life. Now that..."

"Now that what?" I asked catching a glimpse of my son's eyes filled with worry.

"Well mom said you're not doing any of the traditional medication anymore."

I looked away beyond the fields. "Minds already feeble. Doc says won't make much difference. Got my good days. Guess next year it's time to pass the torch to you. I'm sure you got a story or two given your travels." He nodded. I could see he was uncomfortable with the discussion. I tried to comfort him. "Look son, I lived a gifted life. I'm ready to make peace with my maker. Everything I've ever wanted, it's happened. Almost lived a fairy-tale life to be honest with you. I don't think I can say it enough "To be or not to be." is not a question, it's the answer. Someday as this disease progresses I simply will not be." I lit the pipe again and took a deep inhale blowing rings in the sky.

"That stuff really helps the pain doesn't it."

I smiled. "It does, strange enough my memory too. Shame it took this long for folks to see the light. You would have thought this stuff was the last thing to help me. Course feds say it's still illegal. Go figure. Guess freedoms just another word for nothing left to lose."

"You know dad I ... I . .. ah..."

"I know son.... So do I"

Chapter

I coaxed the nested black cat off my chair, annoyed he was losing his comfy spot. He left reluctantly. "Come back this Halloween, I got a story to fit you into." Hopefully my mind well still be here to greet you. With my arrival, the rest regathered, taking their spot eager to hear the rest of the story.

"So everyone get a chance to have some pie?" A resounding yes filtered through the crowd. "Alright Dorsey where was I with this story?"

"You blew it with Memaw!"

"Ah yes the days passed to weeks and weeks to months and soon graduation was at hand. Cindy Sue and I crossed paths a few times, but it seemed almost painful on her part to say hello. It was bad chemistry and I didn't know how to fix it. To compound things, I'd found out I made the baseball team, and to be quite honest with you all, I was hoping I wouldn't. Chats with Noodle's and Slump were becoming a challenge in their self. The detective comic book I used had went to a new venue of superhero's and you can only imagine the strange looks I got from Slump and especial Noodles with the stuff I was turning in now. Not to mention the looks Margret gave me. Even the morale at the foundry had reached an all-time low as lunch rallies were now mandatory whenever Slump was around, and the free sandwiches turned into small finger foods."

I can't say that my own morale was any better. When I entered Markus's office to leave the samples, I noticed someone had delivered a silver Christmas tree just like the one in Noodles office. "It's a contagious disease." I said to myself disgusted the only sanctuary left was now infected with Slumpism. When Markus walked in I became even more agitated that he completely ignored it and all it represented. I finally spoke up.

"Ah you okay? Glasses need cleaned?"

He looked up at me from his desk. I am, and I see quite well, thank you," then went back to writing.

"Ah . . . You don't notice anything different in your office."

He scanned the room peering over the rim of his reading glasses. "No."

I moved from the window right next to the tree. "How about now, you see anything that maybe doesn't belong here? Something right where I'm standing. Something that stands out."

He looked up again. "This time squinting his eyes. "Oh, okay I see what you're getting at. You got your Noodles Iscariot's thirty-year silver pin pinned to the other side of your shirt. I can see the other pin holes where you usually pin it." He giggled to himself proud of his joke that spoke some truth.

"I looked down, he was right, on both accounts, but that's not the answer I was looking for. Not wanting to be associated with Judas and his thirty shillings, pulled the pin off and looking for a place to discard it, I hid it in an empty candy dish on his desk and then stood next to the tree. "So now what do you see?"

He looked up again. "You're missing your pin. You know you look much better without that silly thing."

"No!" I shouted. You don't see the silver tree? The official flag of Slump?"

He looked up again, I suppose still willing to play his game of charades. "Oh yes now that you mention it."

"Well don't it get your blood boiling. Didn't you even stop to think who put it here?"

"I thought you brought it in being on the Slump team and all?"

"Slump team what's that supposed to mean?"

He closed his notebook and looked up. "It means, what I said. You know your little secret agent pin? I just figured it wasn't gonna be long before you brought a Slump tree in. That's all."

I felt like a knife went through my heart. I was embarrassed he knew. "How did you know?"

"Please I have ears and eyes all around this foundry."

"Do you want me to resign my position with you? I never did what they asked?"

"I know that. You think I've never picked up a comic book? Kittens from outer space and death ray machines. You know Slump believes all that, pulls me in the office every time one of those reports come in." Markus got up from his seat and put his arm around me. "I also know they threatened you. You did the right thing saving your fathers job. Sometimes we gotta do what we don't want to. That's just the way the world turns." He patted me on the back and while passing the tree to his desk, stopped.

He ran his hand over the aluminum stick tree and some of its leaves fell off. "Beauty isn't it?" Markus responded sarcastically. "For the children. Give me a break. If these things take hold, he'll make a killing in metals. He's a steel man in a brick world. He didn't buy this foundry to save it. He bought it to kill it. Christmas in July, humbug, next he'll be selling naivety scenes with the flag and fireworks exploding overhead. Well not if I got a say in any of this. Which reminds me I've got some important visitors coming in, I'll need the samples earlier today. If you can feed the cats early and don't forget the lab work. I know it seems redundant, but these tests are important to show consistency. And not to preach but it's vitally important you heat the kilns properly before heating the brick. Understand?"

I nodded, felt a little guilty, I had been doing what he asked, but it was redundant, and I guess I had taken a few liberties to short cut the process. Been working just fine my way. Figured what he didn't know, couldn't hurt him. Boy was I wrong on that.

Chapter

By the time I had set up all the samples nice and organized in sequential order and plotted the course of varying temperatures and volumes of bricks. I laid my results on Markus's desk and opened the window to let some fresh air in. I noticed a peculiar diagram lying on the desk with a folder. Strange normally Markus took special precaution concerning his secret work. Tickets listed as Santanaland next to them. Must be in the Caribbean I thought. I took a peek outside and then whether I'm just nosey or curious, using a pencil so not to touch the folder flipped open the first page. (I gotta quit reading detective comics) I didn't get a good peek but good enough to figure his special project concerned some sort of portable chimney.

Had the cats not meowed perched on the window seal, or the footstep of Markus clanking up the metal stairs, I would have never remembered the directive on keeping the cats in while Slump was in town. I dove for the cat in an attempt to prevent his escape, which just facilitated it and in hot pursuit I followed him out the window and onto the fire escape ledge. Stuck between a hard spot and a rock I decided to wait it out on the ledge until I could grab the cat. I lowered the window just enough to still let a little heat escape. Markus was not alone but instead followed by two gentlemen. I put my ear low to the window sill occasionally peering through the crack in the window. I recognized the two visitors, who wouldn't. They were the same two midgets that had visited with the jolly old man back some months ago. The taller of the two that might have put him at three feet and half inches, spoke first. His voice was squeaky and high pitched. His name was simply Tex, the other Twitter. Peculiar names but they suggested it would all make sense one day. "Did the first run go as planned?"

"Well I suppose. I most certainly have some interesting data to share, but yes quite well for the first stage. Markus replied his eyes tracing the smaller man's interest in the silver tree.

"And I take it you applied the ingredients to precise measurements and complied with the heating instructions to the letter." Tex asked while also watching Twitters curious infatuation to the silver tree.

"Yes of course I did, all data is recorded as you have requested."

"And nothing of any peculiarity to report while recording each sample?"

"Not to my knowledge. So yes, I'm certain, no peculiarities to report." The ping ponging of questions went while both had their eyes locked on Twitters strange attraction to the silver tree.

The taller elf Tex, was meticulous in details and especially in conversation. He preferred brief vs long convoluted talk. Markus's response did not sit well with him. "Not to your knowledge?" Who else might share in this knowledge?" He asked nudging the other elf to prod his interest away from the silver tree.

"Will that would be my assistant."

"Assistant?" Tex's and Twitter's ears both perked up hearing assistant. "We didn't authorize an assistant. That is not protocol. The big boss is not going to be happy about this. Did you read the contract? You do realize you signed it?"

Markus stood up and went to his file cabinet. Pulling his copy of the contract and presenting it to them. Of course I red it, parts of it, when I first signed it. But I hadn't realized the fine print was in elf language. It's not a common language by any means. I can't imagine you could hold me to terms I can't find? Besides you do realize every time you required my assistance at your workshops, who did you think would perform my responsibilities here?"

The two elves, in elf language of course, conversed amongst themselves. After a hardy conversation, Tex addressed his concerns with Markus. "You say we can trust your assistance. Then you won't have any problem if we did a little background check on him. You know that is what we do best. If he's naughty will know, if he's nice will know that too. Everyone has a file you know. People get so paranoid and touchy concerning files and privacy. We been doing it for a long time and ain't received one complaint."

"Fine, fine Christian Steckell is the lads name lives over. . .. "

Tex held his hand up to signal the stop to the flow of information. "Ah ah.. Just need his name we got the rest." He handed the written name to the smaller elf who folded it up to the tiniest size and put it in his mouth then reengaged his interest in the silver tree poking it and prodding it.

"Something wrong with him?" Markus asked.

"Oh him no he just likes your art work? Oh wait he wants to know what it is? Is it Modern? Impressionist? Nouveau?"

"How do you know that? He didn't say anything."

"I don't know I just know. I can hear him thinking. You can't hear that?"

"No I can't hear him thinking." Markus replied irritated by the irrational question. And it's a Christmas tree, your strange friend is so infatuated with. Our owner would like to change Christmas over to July. Guess he thinks silver got a better chance to take hold in the summer."

The two elves locked eyes for a moment but said nothing. Then Tex spoke. "He says that's a great idea. Maybe something we need to look into if this don't work. Big boss man been talking about taking the operation south anyway. Tired of all the snow and cold I guess."

Meanwhile all this was going on I felt a cat rub across my leg. "You bad kitty." I said. Almost spooked me as I sat crouched under the window ease dropping on how good of a kid I was.

Tex redirected things back to business. "Well also like to talk to him, once of course we get our Intel on him. So let's get down to the nitty gritty of it all. What you got for us?"

Markus went to his filing cabinet unlocked it, peeked in then noticed he had left the paperwork on his desk. This small perceived preach of security did not go unnoticed by Tex as he pulled a notepad out and made some notations in response.

"What do you need first?" Markus asked.

"What was the final weight of the brick, after the first five applications?"

Markus scrambled through the paperwork. "Oh yes 1.5 kilos as one would suspect a brick to weigh."

The number caused the two elves to again engage in a rather heated elf discussion. (In elf language of course.)

Markus felt it strange, but it donned on him possibly the smaller elf wasn't bilingual; maybe 'elf' was all he knew. He was more comfortable with elf talk then this crazy telepathy they seemed to have going on anyway. In conclusion to the discussion Tex again spoke. "Impossible... if your boy had followed the directions he could have not possibly come up with that calculation."

Markus stared down at the number, flipped through some notes then did a quick calculation in his head. "Well gentleman, I don't mean to argue with you, but that numbers seems very plausible given its components. Now it is possible the equipment failed us. We can test the scale, recalibrate it, but I'm certain your numbers will not look much different. I've been in the brick business a long, long, time and I got to say I agree a hundred percent with this data."

Tex shook his head then pointed his finger at Markus in what could only be a scolding. "Your boy either made a mistake, fudged the numbers, or never complied with any of the directions."

Physics don't lie, Markus said.

"Really? Think you got it right this time? I will say I've had a few classes in modern human sciences, so not to be confused, my 'modern class' covers a two-thousand-year period. You humans don't seem to make a lot of progress. Two steps forward three steps back sums it up pretty good. So just to highlight a few let's take a look.

You remember the science of geocentric, everything rotates around the earth. Oh and let's not forget the flat world theory. Throw in a little Hippocratic method and the four humors, black bile, yellow bile, phlegm and blood. And relate them to the seasons. That was a nasty one. I can go on. The theory intelligent life doesn't exist outside of this world and can't teleport back and forth." Twitter gave Tex a dirty look. "Oh, wait second you weren't supposed to know about that one yet. Look I know it bends your ego a little bit, but elf science which if it helps will just call it magic so you can maybe process things a little better. Its leap years, light years away from where man is. But don't let it rattle your feathers, hotdogs, you scored big on that one, way, way, ahead of us on that one. Trust me when I say the boy did not do something right."

I could hear every word spoken and the more I heard Markus argue in my defense, the more my stomach churned. The brick weighed nothing, zilch, zero. I only assigned a rational weight because it defied logic. And I knew it and the elf knew it.

"You are a peculiar bunch." Markus said. "And seem extremely confident the error is on our part. Fortunately I have the original tested brick in my safe. Allow me gentleman to put this to rest." He went to his safe twisted some numbers and then as he was about to grab the brick the light hit it and what once was there was now gone, he rummaged through it like a squirrel bustling through leaves to find a nut.

"Something wrong Markus?" Tex inquired hands locked in leisure behind his back peering over Markus's shoulder.

"No . . . ah," he started to say slightly rattled and confused backing his head out of the safe. His eyes scurried about, as if he had misplaced something.

"The brick Markus?" Tex asked already full aware of the answer. "You do have the brick? Don't you?"

Markus sat down to help think. "I'm afraid gentleman," he said seemingly defeated by what could have only been his own irresponsibility. "I have misplaced the brick."

Tex s response was not to be expected. Nor the seemingly mute smaller elf. "Excellent!" They said in unison. "Now I have one question, when did you put that sample in your safe? And how long was it exposed to light."

Markus was slow to extract the information, all of it very confusing for a mind that relied on logic and rational to operate. His brain was in overdrive. "Let's see maybe a week no, no that would have been two two weeks ago I stored it. I remember now it was late only a single light was burning. I distinctly remember your instructions. They must be cooled at room temperature. Then put in a bucket of ice for two hours, and no direct sunlight. I did all that." He pulled his reading glasses off, cleaned them and held them to the light for inspection. He shook his head. But gentlemen, I swear right before the sun hit the safe, I saw the brick sitting there."

"Excuse me? "Tex remarked, sure he had misunderstood Markus. "Did you just say two weeks ago you placed it in the safe? And are you positive right before the sun hit it, you saw the brick as clear as you see me?"

Markus, nodded "I did. Am I going looney tunes?"

"Crazy." Tex exclaimed. I could just kiss you! You've done what we've never been able to do. "Stability," the longest our brick has lasted is? He tapped his finger over the temple of his head in hopes of dislodging the memory. Twitter whispered into his ear. Tex smiled. "Oh yes twenty seconds, that's as long as we've ever lasted."

"Then I did see it and that's good? Right?" Markus asked.

"Good, Tex responded. Why it no less of a breakthrough then the apple falling on Newton's head, or apple iPhones." Twitter chirped in Tex ear. "Oh scratch the apple iPhones, we got em up north, but you folks won't be seeing for quite a few Christmas's yet. Old man ain't ready to release them yet I guess."

Markus's eyes trailed back to the sun streaming through the window. That's it then? I haven't lost my mind, the sunlight the sunlight is a catalyst, that's what happen. That's why it disappeared."

Tex smiled. "Now your starting to understand elf magic."

Following the sunlight Markus's eyes caught the crack in the window and he walked over to close it. I tried to crouch down lower but instead our eyes met. For a moment what seemed like eternity nothing was said. A pondering moment perhaps. Then without budging the window or rating me out. He turned back to the elf.

So for argument sake let's say my assistance in error miscalculated the weight. What weight are we talking about?"

"Zero, a weightless brick."Tex said.

"Mind boggling," Markus said shaking his head. "A wave of energy with zero mass. A minute ago I'd have argued the possibility of any of this. But I saw what I saw and I saw the brick disappear. So we have a brick that's transformed by light and weighs nothing. So if I might ask where is this all going? And if I'm not mistaken, this is as much as I've agreed to take on."

The shorter elf Twitter, eager to clarify matters, brushed his arm and hand across Markus's desk to make room for a detailed schematic. Tex quickly reacted with lightning speed catching each object before it hit the ground. Twitter just smiled. Tex shook his head in disbelief. "He doesn't get out much you know." Was all he said in defense of Twitter's actions.

None of it fazed Markus; he was too drawn in by the schematic diagram rolled out before him. It contained pictures of chimneys from every possible angle and measurement down to the smallest detail.

"That's doable," Markus said with confidence. "Now this is something I think we can help you with. How many bricks are we talking?"

"One" Tex said.

"One? One what? One, one hundred, one, one hundred thousand?"

"One," Twitter chirped in smiling.

Markus gave them both a keen looking over, especially Twitter whose broken silence awakened Markus to the ruse. "Alright, I've spent far too much time on this little charade, games over. Who put you all up to this? Slump? Margret? Oh Margret old Margret that wicked woman she nearly had me. No wait, the boy. He pointed to the window. "Alright Christian come out this joke has gone on far too long. Oh this was a good one you almost had me going. Zero weight brick, now that trick with the brick in the safe. That was good. And elf magic you really had me there." Markus scurried to the window and flipped it open. My sanctuary now uncovered, I handed him the cat, then crawled back into the office.

"Gentleman I give you Christian my assistant, which I assume you already met being an accomplice in this little charade. Well played Christian. Bravo," he said clapping his hands.

Both elves walked to the window and took a peak. They both gave me a looking over and Twitter said nothing, while Tex pulled his notepad out, muttered "security," then wrote in it. I approached Markus but couldn't even keep my eyes engaged while I spoke. "Markus I'm not part of any of this. That I swear to you. The brick? Well I'll explain that later but, it did weigh nothing, which I can attest to."

Markus could only shake his head believing his trust had been betrayed. "And spying on me, where does that fit in? Or were you just being of a curious nature?"

I dropped my head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, but it wasn't intentional."

Markus scratched his chin. His eye's firmly evaluating for any signs of stress that might key him to deceit. He gave the elf's the same scrutiny. Their faces reflected confusion. Their eye's the same honesty reflected from me.

He walked slowly over to his desk and slouched into his chair. "I've lived my whole life dedicated to the sciences. Math is, . . .was my truth. Deductive rationality that's what my teachers called it. Now I look upon your faces, and there is no malice or deception. So, where do I find myself? Same office, same pictures, same cats, yet nothing looks familiar, nothing adds up."

"Elf magic," Tex cheerfully said with a proud beaming smile. "Just think of it as a new math."

Markus looked over to me. "I'm not going mad, am I?" I could only nod no, as I would be a liar to say the same question hadn't crossed my mind.

"Alright then," Markus said looking up at the elves. "In the spirit of new scientific discovery, what do you call it? Elf magic?" They both nodded. "What do I have to lose? I'll play along with this. The good lord knows I need a little entertainment once in a while. And you do seem to have some comparable wits about you. My move I guess." I started to walk away. "No, no, no boy, stay, I my need you to bail me out when the looney tune doctors show up."

Markus held his arm by the elbow and tapped on his lips. The wheels of his mind were turning, and he carefully treated his line of inquisition as a chess master might do. "So we got a brick that's weightless and dissolves in sunlight. And you want one. Why only one?"

Both elves looked at one another, maybe using telepathy again. It was getting rather confusing why and how they chose to communicate. "Yes one that becomes many."

"One that multiplies itself?" Markus scratched his chin. "And how many times does this one multiply itself?"

Twitter whispered this time into Tex's ear. Maybe numbers were hard to telepath. Tex responded. "2 307 894 213 to be exact, that's of course with un-factored population buffers."

"Un-factored population buffers?"

"We call em population pop-ins. You know black plague, atomic war." Twitter whispered into Tex's ear again. "Oh okay scratch atomic war, you folks haven't invented that yet. But things of that nature could exponentially increase things by say .00589. So that would be called an add-on factor each year. But for now 2 307 894 213 works perfect."

"2 307 894 213," he repeated, the number almost knocked Markus over. "That's a lot of bricks. You sure you boys don't see one you like that we already made. I'm afraid even at full production we can barely make a dent in that number."

Twitter again chirped into Tex's ear. We both waited for Tex to respond. "Twitter says he doesn't think you understand. We need one that multiplies itself 2 307 894 213 times from one brick." Twitter whispered again into Tex's ear. "Oh, and so not to confuse you all. The brick must do this all in the same night." Twitter whispered again. "Oh right. And it's got to be on Christmas Eve night."

"Not to confuse me?" Markus repeated, slightly irritated the game, or ruse was starting to lose its entertainment value. "Not. . To.... confuse ... me." He said again. He looked over at me and made the cuckoo sign. "So let's go over this again. Real . . . slow, so everyone is in agreement. You want one brick that has qualities similar to mitochondria and replicates itself many many many times. And you want it to do this little trick in one night. And then when the sun comes up. Poof it's gone. But that really shouldn't be a problem because it has no weight, so therefore no mass." Both elves smiled, nodding their heads in approval.

"Alright," Markus continued, "so just to amuse me further when they lock me up. Why?"

"Gas." Tex said.

"Gas? What do you mean gas? You got gas?"

Twitter whispered into Tex ear again. Oh Tex said smiling. I didn't get the double meaning that's funny. Farts. No not that. Folks quit building chimneys, run small pipes out of the roof. No way for Santa to get in. You know the Jolly Old man, Saint Nick, Santa Claus, Christmas gifts, stockings, are you following me now?"

"Santa Claus?" Was all Markus could say.

"Yep. The fat guy, be careful when you say that, doesn't seem to have a sense of humor about that one. He's okay with Boss man though. But getting back to our chimneyless houses, just not enough time in the night to try and find all the hidden keys. Beside Old Nicks kind of a traditionalist, not willing to change with the times. Says he's gonna give it up if we can't fix this. Sometimes technology can be a terrible thing. These new boiler systems are making Santa's job a little more challenging. So taking into account payload, Santa's sleigh, Reindeers, Gifts, few elves to assist, and of course the fat guy with the cookie equation factored in. Will that leaves very little extra weight, especially on a good year to get the sleigh off the ground. That's why we figured zero would be a good weight for the brick."

Markus took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I see, a zero weight brick. Cause the fat guy is partial to cookies. And of course elf science makes this all possible." Markus said scratching his chin. They both nodded with a smile. "Well then if elf science is so advanced. Why come to me?"

Twitter whispered in Tex's ear again. He smiled. "Well technically you weren't the first choice. Our first choice was Albert, found this dude working in a pattern office as a clerk. But your government got to him first. Word is he's working on some top-secret project in Albuquerque, but they call it Manhattan or something like that. And you say were the ones hard to follow?" Twitter whispered into Tex ear. Hearing it, Tex smacked himself on the forehead. "Of course, okay I see what you're asking now. Why bring humans into the equation? Simple, galactic law."

"Galactic law?" Both I and Markus asked in unison.

Twitter again whispered into Tex's ear. "Okay, now this don't leave the room. It's a delicate matter so listen up. The magnetic field up north that produces the aurora borealis, it's not just some fancy light show. It's a multi-dimensional universal doorway. I won't go into specifics but years ago, I'm thinking a thousand give or take a hundred years. We made a pact with the guardians of the dimensional doorway, a treaty of sorts, 'galactic law.' Trust me I'd bore you with the details. But all dimensional travels abide by it. In a nutshell, it allows all our current magic to grandfather in. Any new magic, or science, gotta come from you folks, being the majority and all. Now we bend that rule a little. Help out when we can. But we gotta be careful how much. The fines are terrible." Guardians took away our internet for a whole month last time we got caught. Twitter whispered in his ear again. It brought a chuckle to Tex.

"Oh yeah almost forgot. Scratch that internet comment, it be awhile before you folks see that. But what I can share with you is just a few simple thoughts."

Now given our own research up north we've done. I highly suggest you give Thermodynamics some thought, creating the simple to complex and back again to chaos. That will get you in the right direction. But heed my words don't let expansion rear its ugly head. Darn near opened up a black worm hole. Duplication, that's a heck of a lot safer. Somewhere down the line, if we get the big guys okay, it's possible we can share a prototype. But again, that might be last resort. Really does touch the fine line of galactic law.

"I'm afraid you have the wrong man." Markus said overwhelmed by it all. "Maybe you ought to wait until that Albert fella's done working for the government."

The elf looked down at his name plate on the desk then pulled a notebook from his pocket flipped through it and satisfied the names matched. "You are Markus Russo Darin. Live on 1000 boulevard Pittsburg PA. Married to a Renata Nardino Serkell. Twitter's eyes lit up and almost knocked over the silver tree to whisper into Tex's ear. "Woops, Oh scratch that last part, sorry. It's just that I've talked with her lately and... "

"You talked to her? What kind of cruel joke is that?" Markus asked.

Twitter again wasted no time to give Tex an earful. "Sorry ah... I shouldn't have said that. .. It's ...." Tex stuttered, pulled at his collar, and tried to correct himself. "I ah ..." he stopped midsentence looking over at Twitter, who must have sent a telepathic message, he nodded his approval. "Look off the record I'm gonna tell you what I'm not supposed to tell you. That dimensional door, it's a door of endless probabilities that contain the past, the present, and the future. They all exist at the same time. I'm only telling you cause your boy Albert, he's already figured that out. Just hasn't shared it with the world yet. Renata in another space dimension is alive and well. Just as you exist here, your consciousness also exists in endless realities."

Markus fell to his knees like he had witnessed the burning bush on Mount Sinai; he clutched the elf by his collar. "You got to take me to this doorway. I beg you."

Tex closed his eyes with all his might and his head started shaking to the point you thought it might just come off the hinges. "Can't, can't, can't, won't, won't, won't not in a million years, not in a billion years, not in a trillion years!!!! Big guy never go for that."

Markus grabbed the elf by his collar. He was done pleading. "Look you little pointed ear midget, you want something I want something. I get nothing you get nothing."

Tex looked over to Twitter. No words were spoken but both nodded. "Oh boy," he finally said. "I'm gonna regret this one. . But deal."

Markus got off his knees tidied Tex's collar he had ruffled and wiped away a tear. "Then you have the right man."

And so the stage was set and whether the elves could really deliver, it didn't matter. Markus had something he hadn't had for a long time.... hope.

The elf's stayed for a while. And for bending the rules? Yeah, they did their share of stretching galactic law to the limits. For Markus he had no problem making sturdy bricks to withstand the weather of time. A cornerstone to a bridge spanning a mighty river or building so high it caught the first ray of sun. But it was learning elf magic that would make Santa's brick possible.

Chapter

After a couple of long weeks of little if any reported progress from Markus and I. The elf's frustrated, made the decision to up the ante and share a little more elf research. Bend the rules a little so to speak. We all met in Markus's office. Tex pulled a gold brick that seemed to glow from a red bag that was a dead ringer to Santa's bag. "Alright all eyes on the brick. It's our prototype we call it Xbox1."

He placed the brick on top of the stacks of paper on Markus's desk. Returning to the bag he buried his head deep into the bag and pulled out a stick with three small silver bells attached to it. "Ready?" he asked. "Behold I give you the chimney!" He shouted out while he shook the bells over the brick.

Nothing but dead silence. Frustrated Tex shook the bells over the brick again. "Behold the chimney," he said again. Again nothing, Tex lifted the brick, looked under it and put it back down. He was just about ready to shake the bells and give it another try when Twitter chirped into his ear. "Oh yeah," Tex said with a smile.

This time shaking the bells he added "Abracadabra," before, "Behold I give you the chimney." was said. In response the brick started to shake. Then levitate off the desk maybe an inch or two. A crackling sound was heard, mini explosion of sorts and through the clay powder the brick of one grew to two and three then a large thunderous sound was heard and the bricks which kept multiplying splintered through the wooden oak desk. Then cracked through the maple floor ripping the floor boards to the side, and when it hit the floor pushed back up creating the most perfect chimney. Markus and I both peered down the top of the chimney, which seemed to go through the desk through the floor all the way down to the second floor of Markus's office. And in a blink of the eye as quickly as it materialized the chimney appeared to evaporate in thin air restoring the floor and desk to its original condition. In its wake sat the red brick as if nothing had taken place not a paper dislodged from its resting place.

Markus fell back in his seat. "Why you've done it. Did you see that boy?" He asked me to confirm he hadn't gone mad. I nodded as spellbound as him.

The elves in contrast seemed disappointed.

"Is something wrong I asked? You've done it, right?"

"Done it," Tex said. "That little trick?" He waved his hand nonchalantly as if waving it off, "ah yeah for... maybe twenty seconds. Of course sounds a lot more impressive when you do the calculation in Christmas elf time which minus the speed of light is just about 1 1000th billion of a second human time. Hardly enough time to get the jolly guy down the shoot, distribute gifts fill the stockings and back up."

Now up to this point figuring it was better to allow someone to think you're a fool then prove yourself one, I had been quiet. But Markus who witnessed the event seemed catatonic holding his coffee mug to his lip, not a muscle twitching. "Is he alright," I asked.

Tex walked over to Markus. His body was frozen. He nudged him to see a reaction. Waved his hand over his fixated eyes, and then smiled. "Yep got what we call 'Glaze over.' It's a human trait. Happens more to the over thinkers. Brain over stimulated. He'll come out of it, maybe that's why the guardians don't let us share too much elf magic. Hum go figure."

"It looks painful?"

"Nah, no worst then a Popsicle brain freeze I'm told."

"You won't get in trouble, will you? You know sharing and all, that galactic law stuff?"

Tex looked over at Twitter and scratched his head. "You mean the antimatter to matter thing, the Xbox1 prototype? Naw, Twitter got it cleared with the big boss." From the corner of his eye, Tex caught Twitter shaking his head making no mistake he disagreed to the statement. "You didn't? You thought I did? Oh! That might be a problem." Woopsie!" silence fell amongst us for a brief moment.

I contemplated what we had witnessed, making us accomplices to breaking galactic law or not, we had a brick to make. "So all you need from us, is time? Right? The magic brick needs to last longer."

"Exactly," Twitter and Tex said in unison. "That's what it's always been about."

I walked over to the desk. Waved my hand across Markus's eyes then picked up the brick. "You sure he's alright?"

"Positive." Tex said.

"Okay then, all we got do is find out where to get more time. So if we find time we find the answer? Seems simple enough." I stopped to think about what I had just said then realized maybe it wasn't such a simple question. "I don't suppose you'd have a hint or two you'd be able to share?"

Tex smiled. "Seeing how we already jumped down the rabbit hole and broke, no, scratch that, stretched the rules. What's another stretched rule? Let's find a chalkboard. I gotta little schooling to do."

When Markus came too, the first thing he did was duck his head under the desk looking for the chimney not sure it hadn't all been a dream. Stumbling to join us and still slightly disoriented, I couldn't have been happier. My head was spinning as Tex using a chalkboard gave me a crash course on what he coined "elf physics." There were vectors and arrows and symbols and squares and formulas CH4 \+ Cl- → H3C- \+ HCl and words like ratified exponents of variability multiplied by the trinomial coefficient of abstraction or something to the likes for which I understood none of it. Surprisingly Markus took right to it. "I see," he said moving closer to the chalkboard and adding an equation or two himself, until they had filled every spot on the chalkboard. And you couldn't have even added a dash, or dot on the board. And Markus finally cried out again. "I see. Why hadn't I thought of that before?"

Both Tex and Markus stood back together admiring their work on the chalkboard. "It really is a simple concept in theory." Tex said. "Of course, manipulating the rhythm of dark matter by wrinkling the fabric of time sounds intimidating to say the least."

Markus put his chalk down. "I couldn't agree with you more. But right there it is. There's no mistaken it." Markus shook Tex hand. "Consider it done. Now it's just a matter of fine tuning the chemistry."

I stared clueless at the hieroglyphics on the board. "Is it really that easy?" I asked Markus.

"Nothing great is ever easy," Markus said. "But we now have a brick that multiplies materializes and then reabsorbs itself back to its natural state. Our work is to create a brick that stabilizes, when we put the two together, than we have achieved our goal."

And fine tuning the chemistry we did. It's amazing how a chalkboard of alien scribble would translate to the new alchemy we found ourselves supplied with. Now in addition to vials and containers of iodine and sulfur and salt peter and iron nuggets, you could find mistletoe and peppermint and holly, and berries. And I swear everything including sugar and spice and snails and nails, but definitely not puppy tails.

Now as time was moving along, so did the setbacks on things that seem so clear on Markus's chalkboard. To compound matters more, silver trees began filling the floors of the back warehouse. A reminder the march of Slump was closing in.

"Nothing great comes without accepting the challenge first." Markus reminded me every day and the motto became are driving force for us to work all the harder. We were beyond the theorems and postulates, now simply trial and error. So we rolled up our sleeves and went to work shaving, and smashing, and heating, and freezing, and mixing, and torching tubes of reds with blues and tubes of green with pinks, and smelly stuff, and sweet stuff, and even boiling cauldrons of herbs and spices that would make a witch twitch.

But it didn't end there. We smelted slivers of brasses and gold and copper, till it frothed and boiled, and bubbled, and when that didn't work we changed the order and started over until almost at the dead of midnight. Markus cried out, "it's alive." And there sat a sample under the microscope that only a trained eye schooled in the alchemy of elf magic could see the signs of a Christmas brick that was indeed infused with the spirit of Christmas. We had ventured down the rabbit hole and pulled the rabbit out by its ears. There was much more to be done but now we at least had a catalyst that fused both technologies together.

Chapter

Little by little, more and more silver Christmas trees arrived, and the pressure like the constant metronome tick tock continued to build. At home the Ed Murrow hour, reporting Eastern Europe got gloomier and doomier to the point even Paw would rarely listen to the news. Maw, with three boys and talk of war, well she just didn't know what to do with herself, we even think she had taken up smoking corn silk to calm her nerves. Crazy to think the good magic in the world could do nothing to keep the bad magic from busting the world open at its seams.

Summer baseball had come and gone and although I spent more time watching the game from the bench then playing it, it gave me short glimpse's at Cindy Sue. I weren't complaining. It was a talented summer league team, most older. A few if the calling of war hadn't come, would of seen some playing time at Forbes Field. Paw showed up for every game. I felt a little embarrassed gathering splinters on the bench. He said he was proud just the same. Guess that's what Paws do.

Now getting back to Cindy Sue we were about on opposite paths as two souls could be. She acted as if I never existed and could be found swooned in the arms of Chip Dorkin who by the way had gotten even stronger, taller, and I dare say better looking. I swear he had cut a deal with the devil himself to be so gifted in some many ways.

My academics didn't seem to be going any further either. I had not got accepted to the main university but instead a small junior college which offered no writing class but promised a possible gateway to the main campus. I was the king of mediocracy at every angle of my existence. Maybe I was one of the lucky ones as Markus would see it. Maybe I would be spared of the dagger of love.

The frames of summer and fall soon dashed before us and Jack Frost with arrival of the winter followed the Allegheny southward from the great north and blanketed the landscape. The Christmas brick hung in the balance. Silver trees now bundled on top of each other, making navigating in the back warehouse almost impossible (I think Slump did it just to irritate Markus). But Markus didn't care. He was a man on a mission. He was focused. Whistled Christmas tunes while he worked. Appeared to be more patient. Maybe even happy I dare say. Make the brick and he had his golden ticket to the galactic doorway. And back in the arms of his love. Funny how hope changes things, messes with your perspective. Makes you believe in magic. I still had my doubts; my hope was gone, stoled by the likes of Chip Dorkin. With all the turmoil going on in the world why couldn't the elf's magic fix it? The elves believed science was merely a tale of observation the true master of truth our imagination. Belief and hope the steps that lead to our destiny. Makes you wonder if their magic wasn't just all smoke and mirrors. My Paw explained the bad in the worlds as a test sort of like Job's plight in the bible. When I question him why we needed tested? He just said because that's the way it is. Markus thought it; "free will" for which I replied. "It couldn't be all that free of a will if another man could inflict his on mine." He smiled but gave it little more thought. "I guess it's just the way it is."

Walking up to the guard shack with my Paw, the guardsman Joe couldn't wait to get his claws in me and escort me to the front office.

"Mr. Slump needs to see you pronto?"

Paw's eye brows curled inward, in mix between thinking I'd done something I shouldn't have and the worried look of a father. I shrugged my shoulders. "Got me?"

"On Christmas eve." my Paw asked? "This got to be serious." He said shaking his head.

Margret's eyes painted a tale of dooming duress soon to be administered by the powers to be. For her own enjoyment I think she muttered something about spare the rod, spoil the child. At any rate it gave me little comfort.

Noodles saw me first; his eye's I swear red possessed like a bull ready to charge. He motioned me in with his stubby little fat index finger. Lying on the desk next to my reports where each comic book addition for which I duly plagiarized.

"I can explain I started to say even though I wasn't sure how.

"I bet you can." Noodles said glaring down at me.

I thought it was over. Caught red handed with my hand in the cookie jar. I waited for the guillotine to fall. And the first words from Slump seemed impossible, totally irrational, defied logic as Markus would say.

"Where's your pin special agent." Slump said with a grin on his face. I patted my shirt. I had almost forgot I left it in the cookie jar.

"Ah I've seemed to have misplaced it."

Slump put his arm around me like we were best buds. "No worries special agent." He said in a jolly tone. "Fine work you been doing. Let me show you something, you not gonna believe it, I didn't at first. Noodles I don't think he believes it. Yet! Right Noodles, right? Don't worry he will."

I peeked a look towards Noodles. It was obvious he believed none of it but knew who signed his paycheck. We stopped, below us the comic books laid out in order of edition.

Slump pointed to the layout. "Look boy, just at the cover, then at your reports. You're not gonna believe this, but your reports, on Markus, almost match verbatim to each comic edition. I couldn't believe it at first either when Noodles showed me. But there it was black and white but in color. I recognized it right off the bat what was going on. I said Noodles you know what this is. What you'd call it Noodles plagamism?"

"Plagiarism," Noodles corrected him.

"That's right you called it plagiarism. And I said naw you got think outside the box Noodles." He tapped his head with his finger. "This boy got psychopathic abilities just like me, a genius, able to tap into universal waves of angel matter. It's all true just pure knowledge."

"Psychic, I think you mean psychic abilities, not psychopathic abilities." Noodles corrected him again.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you said but abilities just like me. A Nostradamus moment. You know the English guy that wrote the follow up book to the bible, Book of Revelations. Read it. Wonderful book I'm told, haven't read it myself yet, but hear it's a wonderful follow up book. Isn't that right Noodles?" Even Noodles was having trouble allowing himself to agree with Slump, but he hadn't the energy to correct him.

Slump stared down at the mix of comic books and detailed reports. He had a proud satisfied look on his face. "Look how I got them all matched up in order. I did that. Right Noodles? Nobody helped me. So there it was. The report confirmed a lot about what I already knew about Frenchie. He didn't have me fooled. But I had no proof until now. It's all going in his personal file every-bit of it. And lock him up. Right Noodles? Were gonna lock Frenchie up."

Slump picked up a comic book. "I'm gonna share a little secret about myself. Most people don't know it until they meet me. Don't read much, hate it, boring. Boring! But these." He pointed to the comics. "Read em all the time. Can't get enough of them. Great source of information. Just wonderful, wonderful sources of information. The secret society prints these. Heck I don't even read the captions. I see what's going on in the pictures. I got a really, really, high IQ. A lot of people tell me that. No its true, did a test on myself. Now listen up boy. Alien angels wrote these things. Isn't that right Noodles? Secret society. They're in the know. Its true Noodles, angels share the secrets telepathically. It's very true, all mental. And this boy he's tuned in with his psychopathic abilities. Got be psychopathic yourself to see it in another."

Noodles started to correct him but then let go realizing it was probably useless and instead as always nodded his head in agreement.

"Yes sir we got em. Now we caught Frenchie, no getting out of it now. What a great Christmas present. Now we got something we can pin on him. Take it to the authorities. Fine work boy. Now you go and keep up the good work, and your pin, find that pin boy. You're the number one secret agent." I walked out of the office as quick as I could. Slump was like a child on Christmas day, Noodles like a tired parent up all night wrapping gifts. Nevertheless I had dodged a bullet, but with a day before Christmas Eve, another waiting. Now it was off to the lab in hopes of a Christmas miracle.

Chapter

"You're late," all Markus would say. His hair disheveled his clothing wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I had a meeting with Slump. Have you slept at all this week?"

"Little, enough, be plenty of that once they cover these bones in dirt. Did you say Slump?"

I nodded. "He found out I've been writing the reports from the comic books."

Markus stopped mixing the beakers, "and?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I said hanging my jacket on the hook.

Boy was I wrong. His responds flabbergasted me. "He thinks you have psychic abilities. Thinks the comic books are written by angels. You and him on the same wave lengths."

"How did you know?"

Markus let out a chuckle, then turned back in his seat, hunched over the desk, and mixed chemistry tubes while he spoke. "I got ears and eyes everywhere. That, and what I fed him last time he interrogated me. Told him I was gonna come clean. Had no choice in the matter the way I saw it a smart man like himself, surely already had it all figured out." Markus paused with his work and turned to me. "His ego sucked it up like a dry sponge in water. Scary to think he's running this whole show. But enough about him or will all be celebrating Christmas this July. Smash up that juniper flower and mix it with the mistletoe leaves. He handed me a chemistry tube." When you're done, put it in this beaker with the red mix. Careful now. We lose this, we lose everything."

I took the beaker and put it in the holder. "What's in it. looks like red dye?"

Markus eyed the beaker, his look a mix between Doctor Frankenstein and a proud father. "Little bit of everything. Few molecules of carbon in the form of Christmas stocking coal, little H2O from Mount Carmel church, little of this, little of that, reds probably from the cranberries and red Christmas candle wax. Even threw in some blue spruce pine sapling, and crumbs from Christmas cookies too."

"Ugh," I said. "Sounds more like witchcraft then science." Then crushed up the flower and leaves and as instructed by Markus put them in the test tube and shook it to mix it together. It smelt like peppermint candy canes. "Smells good anyway." I said.

Markus's eyes lit up, and he grabbed at the tube like a child for his milk bottle. "Here, here, let me see. You shouldn't have shaken it yet. Did I tell you to shake it? " Markus asked, obviously frustrated I couldn't read his mind.

"No, but you didn't say I couldn't either."

He put the tube to his nose and took a long inhale. Shaking his head, I could see he wasn't completely happy with the results. "So, if tonight on your walk home I don't tell you not to jump off the bridge, you jump off?" I could tell by his look, he really didn't want me to answer that. He was merely tired and worn out and running out of options. He put the red tube under a candle for a moment. Counted to ten and poured a small amount of the heated red concoction on the Xbox1 brick. He waited another ten seconds then shook his head in defeat. "Mistletoe?" he asked looking up at me. "We did use mistletoe, right?"

I nodded yes. He put the brick under the microscope in hopes it could see what he couldn't.

"Two and a half vines?" He questioned.

Yes, I nodded again. He looked down adjusting the lens of the microscope.

"Silicon with white sand?" He asked again breaking his attention away from the eye piece.

"Yes," again I nodded.

"Clay from the south and north pole?" He asked this time not looking up.

"Yes fresh clay from both poles."

His shoulders slouched inward. His head dropped. He let out a sigh. "Then we've done everything." He tossed his glasses on the desk and rubbed his tired eyes. "I'm afraid we've failed." You could see hope seeping from his being knowing his twin soul was slipping away.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Color, don't laugh but it's got to turn red green and white. Crazy but it's the chemical reaction. That's it boy we did our best. Fate is the hunter, right? Isn't that what you believe? It wasn't meant to be. We are merely rodents evolved one step from cat's prey, and hide behind the works of scientist, philosophers and theologist to say we're not."

I was heart struck seeing his hope fade away. When your young, you have more of it then you need, when your old, far too little to keep going. I wasn't ready to give in yet. "But you won't see her. We can ask the elves maybe next year. Maybe they'll just give you a pass knowing how hard you worked."

Markus smiled with sad eyes. "You're thinking like a child. We made a deal. I gave them my word. The brick, for the doorway, our cost, my cost was far less then what they sold. It was a one in a lifetime deal, the cosmic consequences unfathomable."

I understood once in a lifetime opportunities. I had blown mine at the movies. It's funny how the mind works. On the surface the last thing on my brain would have been the date with Cindy Sue. But in the deep recesses where memories stay hidden and play amongst themselves it hit me square on. The colors and the smell, the day of my fiasco date with Cindy Sue. The brick smelt, tasted, and turned those exact colors, but why? What was so different that day? Then it hit me the frankincense and myrrh from the sample bottle. I had used it as an accelerant. I smiled. "Wait right here."

Chapter

I maneuvered through the silver trees stacked up like a mouse running through a maze to Markus's office in hopes I had not used all the contents from the bottles. Markus's cats followed up the steps right into his office.

What happened next, be it called luck, fate, accident, or randomness, I cannot say. What I can say is Markus's argument that random probability is the true master to fate, just wasn't holding water.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Markus's black cat rubbing against a book on the shelf, causing it to drop to the ground. Noticing it was a King James Version of the bible. I gave it the full reverence it deserved and immediately picked it up and brushed off the dust. In the process, I noticed what looked like a book marker had fell on the floor. Picking it up I noticed it was actually a Pirate's rookie card. The picture had I not known better I would have sworn was me. Across the top of the card the name Joseph Steckell my Paws name. 1925. My Paw a Pirate? The year 1925. I did the math, his first year my birth year. Now had that not been enough surprise for the day, also on the floor a wedding bridal party picture with my Paw as best man, and Markus with a beautiful bride. She had long blonde hair and almond eyes, just as Markus had described her. On the back a verse from the bible that had superimposed itself given the years it found refuge tucked away in the bible. " _Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. James 1;17._

I sat for a moment drinking it all in, before it hit me why I had come up there in the first place. I ruffled through my coat jacket pulling the bottles only to be disappointed to their empty contents. I red the labels of the bottles symbols of holiness and righteousness.

I knew I had found the missing link. I shoved the picture and card in my pocket and ran as fast down the steps zig zagging the whole way hollering Markus's name like a schoolchild at play. Markus Markus!!

"What boy spit it out?" he said as I reached him.

I barely caught my breath. "The book, the pictures, my Paw and you."

"What pictures?" Markus asked. "For god's sake boy, get ahold of yourself."

"My Paw, he played for the Pirates and you a wedding picture with him. He was your best man? Why? Why? I mean why work here. He had it all. He was a Pirate. Did they cut him? Was he hurt? He never even told me he played ball." In my excitement I failed to do the simple math.

Markus clarified the math. "You decided to join the world right about the same time his career started. He never mentioned it because he gave it all up for you. He could make more working a double shift at the Coal mines then hitting baseballs. He did it, so your belly would be full at night, and the roof would shelter you from rain. He did it for you, and as your brothers and sisters appeared for them as well. When I was a child I did as a child did, when a man, as a man does."

I handed him the wedding picture. He smiled looking at it.

"That was the happiest day of my life. .. .It wasn't but a week later the worst day in my life. Your Paw and I were good friends, best friends, even before the foundry days. We grew up on the same streets you live on now. I lost him when I lost her... no fault of his. I shut him out. I wanted nothing to do with what was before and never could be again. It was too painful. He was my best friend. Never said more than hello or goodbye in passing after the accident. I miss him dearly. I miss both dearly." Markus took a long sigh. I'm tired now, digging up the past can drain the soul. I should have known better. It's time for me to go home. Merry Christmas Christian." He turned to leave.

I couldn't let him. "But wait. The mixture the... brick. I think I know the missing element." He stopped but did not turn around. "Frankincense and myrrh," I hollered out. "It's gotta be what we're missing. It's beyond coincidence. I used it on the bricks while you were away. I know I shouldn't, but the brick it turned red, green, and white, it even tasted like peppermint candy. It's a long story. Please Markus! I think we owe ourselves, and more important, you, her. You need to complete each other. Your soulmates. You need to get back to her. Please!"

My last few words broke past the wardens of his frozen heart. He turned around. "You tasted it?" He shook his head in disgust making a nasty face. "Okay frankincense, myrrh, both alkaline in nature." His thought triggered what could only be described as quick chemical postulates in his head as he used an imaginary chalkboard using his hand to guide his imaginary chalk. "I think it will work," he finally said. But where would we get frankincense and myrrh on the eve or Christmas.

I smiled. "Cindy Sue." I had never picked up my candles or perfume of frankincense and myrrh from Cindy Sue. Maybe fate is indeed the hunter. "Wait here," I barely got out of my mouth, rushing to grab my coat, and dashing to meet my fate. And without thinking and for the strangest reason I felt compelled to not go empty handed on the eve of Christmas without a gift. The only thing I could think of was grabbing the silver tree that Slump professed as the future.

Bearing down on Cindy Sue's house with tree in hand the moon was starting to appear. Inside her house I could see someone playing the piano. I hesitated for a moment, hearing the music I immediately recognized. It couldn't be, could it? Someone was playing 'By the midnight moon by Debussy,' an omen for sure. Knocking on the door I started to get nervous. I took a moment to check my breath. Slick my hair back with spit, then brush the silver leaves off my jacket from the shedding fake Christmas tree. The piano stopped and the light came on. And there in the door window I saw Cindy Sue. Our eyes locked. She smiled at first then catching herself forced it away.

Her one eyebrow arched. Her pupils grew. "Well I'll be darn, he's back." She opened the door. "Why do tell Christian Steckell what brings you to my house here on Christmas Eve?

"Well I ... I."

She was enjoying the torture. I was nervous. Who wouldn't be? I'd already blew it once. Odds were in my favor to do it again. "Cat got your tongue?" she asked. "And why are you dragging that silver Christmas tree with you?"

"Well I thought . . .I mean I didn't want to come her without ...I wanted to give you ... and I was thinking about you and ...." What came out next was supposed to be "this (the silver tree) is your future of Christmas. But being all tongued tied what came out was, "I'm the future of your Christmas."

"That's beautiful," she said smiling. "And so sweet you were thinking of me."

"Ah ya . . " I said if only she knew how much I thought about her. "You really think it's beautiful? You know being silver and all?" It didn't surprise me she could find the good in anything.

Her eyes grew as she spoke. "The Silver reminds me of the snow-covered pines at Mister Holbrook's pond. The place we first met." Her eye lids battered. "Do you remember? We made snow angels together. But come on in its starting to snow. I'll get you some hot chocolate to warm you up."

I started to follow her and hesitated, wondering for a moment, why did she always get the snow angel thing wrong? But I didn't need to correct her, nor continue. A voice I hadn't heard since summer league joined up with the towering figure of Chip Dorkin, the demi-god now rumored to be playing minor league ball. He stood in the pathway of the door blocking my entry. "We made the angels together sweetie, not Flash Gordon with his silver. .. What is that anyway? It looks like a spaceship."

I looked down at the stupid tree I was dragging with me. "It's a Christmas tree." I said.

"Will what'd you want with us anyway? It's Christmas Eve. You caroling by yourself or something? He asked peeking out the door for other carolers and blocking the entrance at the same time. "You are a strange fella Christian."

Game over. Boy did I hate Chip Dorkin back then. "Ah...nothing Chip. Just came to get my Christmas orders."

Now I'm not a mind reader, even though Slump would have argued that, and maybe I was reading more into it then I thought, but for a moment I thought I seen some disappointment in Cindy Sue's face thinking my only intent was the Christmas order. But looking up at Chip Dorkin whose posture showed no resemblance of goodwill on this Christmas Eve and an evil eye to boot. I figured it was as good as a time as any to make my exit before a good sock to my stomach confirmed my suspicions. "Yep that's all." Chip Dorkin barely waited for Cindy Sue's exit to get the order before he seized the moment to spread some more of his Christmas cheer.

Got some advice for you. I'm gonna close my eyes and count to three and when I open them, guess who won't be here?"

"Me," I said.

"Exactly. So take your silver space ship Flash Gordon and blast off."

I didn't even wait for Chip Dorkin to start his count. Plumb forgot the balance of Christmas Eve depended on me getting the oils too. None of it had anything to do with Chip Dorkin. Will maybe a little but more than anything, I was just plumb tired of fighting just to get a few pleasures in life. After all, if it were meant to be or the natural order of things, shouldn't it just happen or at least without a heck of a lot of effort? I hadn't gotten about halfway down the drive, dragging the silver tree leaving a path of snow and silver leave droppings. When I felt a tug on my jacket pulling me back. At first I thought it might be Chip Dorkin and braced myself for a fight.

"Cindy Sue." I said surprised to see her

"Will Christian Steckell. Maybe Chips right. Something is wrong with you. First you don't have the decency to treat me right on a date. Then you ignore me the rest of the school year like you never met me. Then to make matters worse you show up at my house on Christmas Eve. Give me a tree and take it back. Now just cause you're cute, doesn't mean I'm gonna keep giving you more chances to get it right Christian Steckell? What I'm trying to say is the true mind, mine, or not? Uhg." She said clinching her fist. "You get me so frustrated Christian Steckell. That didn't come out right. I meant to say is the tree mine or not?"

"Cute?" I wondered if she meant cute like a puppy. That I wasn't sure about, but I did hear Second chance." And for beating around the bush, I could do that better then anybody. But sometimes you just got to jump in feet first as my Paw would say and see where you land. So, I asked just to make sure. "Your giving me another chance?"

She smiled, and not a word left those angelic lips of hers, but are hearts said what words could never.

It was the best Christmas gift a boy could get. Now Chip Dorkin, or not, when I stared into Cindy Sue's eyes, the most beautiful girl I have ever set eyes on, I saw my future. And given Markus's advice on love, and given the chance to be cursed for life, even if it was for one minute of time with Cindy Sue. Will that just seemed like cheating the devil out of his due. The snow came down and I grabbed Maw. We kissed like two lost souls uniting for the last time. And I dare tell you. There isn't a winter goes by that Maw and I don't make a snow angel the first time the winter snows come."

As for Chip Dorkin, he stormed out, turns out he wasn't much for fighting. And that is how the silver tree found its way into our Christmas. I looked out amongst my family and lost my place for a moment. Distraction had a way of easily doing that with my mind. I was getting tired. My thoughts slowed. Doesn't always take a long day to launch its misdeeds. But so far, I had a great-day. And as for faltering at the end, I'd take that every time.

First the names leave me, then the faces. Everyone a stranger. Frightening to be honest with yins, embarrassing to say the least. Funny how the mind works. Surprised I got this far in the day without some cobwebs clogging the memories. Strange how it all comes back. The mind that is. Almost like turning on a TV or computer screen. Everybody came back into focus. I was familiar again. And no one, maybe Maw, but no one else, realized the stranger they had become in that short blackout. The stranger I became sitting in my chair.

I rested for a moment gazing over the folks assembled. I had been truly blessed. I was better than a writer, better than a brickmaker. I had made life. And touched lives. A tear trickled down my eye. In the corner still stood the silver Christmas tree and now each member of the family who ridiculed the silver tree gave it a reverence it hadn't had before. It was a story I was glad to tell.

I started to get up to refresh my drink. Needed to familiarize myself with my surroundings. When this time not only Dorsey and Casey chimed in, but each row succeeding them. "What about Markus and the magic brick? Did he get to the porthole? Save Christmas Eve?"

"Yes Maw," chimed in. "I beg to say there's more to tell."

I sat back down. But most of the story seemed locked away. Best I could do was stall, hoping the bookmark in my brain would flag me down and open the pages again. "So where did I leave off."

"You and Memaw kissed near the silver tree. And the oils, you didn't tell us how you got em back to the foundry." Casey offered up.

"Oh yes you're so very right. Let see now." Pushing my brain for memories seemed to make it worse. I couldn't even think of Markus's name. "Oh yes. Ah well .. ." I stuttered. Waiting for a flash to go off in my brain and light the cold empty tunnel of my mind. Then like lightening, a flash, a beacon on a stormy night in the ocean. I was able to see the name. "Markus. I said, half smiling half confused. But nothing more, not the memory of a brick, or Santa. I sat in silence, staring out in the stranger's home I sat in.

Maw came to my rescue. She knew the signs. "Oh you old fool," Maw said taking her colorful stained apron off, fixing her grey hair, while joining me up front. Sitting on my lap. "You've gone and poured yourself too many spiced eggnogs. You've forgotten the best part of the whole story.."

I could only sit back and let Maw tell the story. Truth be told I didn't even recognize her at first, but I did see and feel the essence of her beauty and allowed her my knee as a cushion. As much as I love telling a good story, It was refreshing to hear another version. One I too could be drawn in and enchanted as those for which I had already lured in my story.

"Oh my, this is quite a different view from your chair Papa," she said sitting on my lap. "And a little different story then I recall. So let me back up just a tiny bit. I think your memory is just a bit off. It was my daddy who answered the door. And true to nature you were dragging the silver tree with you." She put her hand over her mouth shaking her head. "Oh my! It was a hideous tree and as I recall Chip Dorkin, and my daddy, as well as some carolers all had a good laugh over it. I could see the hurt. Ah dear I tried not to laugh nobody likes to be laughed at. And I don't exactly remember what you said but your pride was so hurt you wouldn't even come in for a cup of hot chocolate. As for chip, boy was he ever quite the catch. All the girls would flock down to the beach where he was life guard, so handsome, so smart and ambitious and a good dancer to boot. I smiled at my sister. But, I think maybe your story is again ... a little different then I recall. Chip we all know as Lefty." The crowd let out a, "aw." Realizing who Chip was. Someone gave a tall grey-haired fella in the crowd a friendly jab in the rib. The focus quickly went back on Maw as she continued her tale.

"Now Chip had come back from college break and with him he brought an engagement ring. And two things stuck out in my mind that night helping me realize lefty was not to be the one I spent the rest of my life with."

"You see I knew he would be springing the ring on me. And I knew everyone except me, was sure I wanted him. Oh good lord did I do some praying. I prayed and prayed for a sign. To make sure I made the right choice. After all he was Chip Dorkin, every girl's dream."

I muttered in jest under my breath. My thoughts now rebuilding on my past and providing light to my present. "Never did care for that Chip Dorkin."

Maw patted me on the shoulder. "Oh you jealous old dog. I wouldn't trade you in for nothing. Like to least get a night out of it with Chip Dorkin." She said winking at lefty and getting a hearty laugh from the crowd."

"When the doorbell rang, and I saw you there holding a silver tree, one of the ugliest trees with painted silver sticks for branches, and foil for leaves, I knew something was in the good lord's mind to guide me. I just wasn't sure yet what it was."

"Now to add to the peculiarity of the night, it was a full moon and mixed with the snow of all things, a lightning storm. You were just a stuttering at the door about getting your Christmas order. I can still let out a chuckle seeing you stand there. Next thing I know a streak of lightning bolt crashed over the sky with a thundering roar and you holding the aluminum tree nearly collapsed into my arms. We ended up with locked eyes. The passion was hot." She fanned herself in a gesture that still held that memory. Oh how I wanted you to kiss me so bad, but you were so, so backwards with girls."

"So I did what a girl does best. I pulled you and your silver tree into the house. Got you on familiar turf. While you and daddy exchanged baseball talk, I went to work on Chip, hoping to force your hand.

I sat right in his lap, keeping surveillance on you the whole time. I worked it hard; jealousy can be a girl's best friend you know. And boy did I pour it on. But all it did in the end was made you madder than a bear poking a bee's nest. Your face got red and you stormed out of the house carrying with you your frankincense and myrrh. I couldn't help but follow you out. I at least wanted to thank you for the silver tree, and of course the frankincense and myrrh you bought. It would have been unchristian not too. Poor Chip, or maybe not, he stayed and got real friendly with my sister, they ended up married. Ain't that right Uncle Lefty? A tall man bent with a cane and thinning grey hair smiled. Everyone knew uncle lefty famous for his red hot canned garden peppers and bean soup.

When I finally caught up to you nearly a quarter mile down the road. (Thank god for the white Christmas snow or I would have never found you,) We ended up in front of the old brickyard foundry.

And at that moment I squared things up. Pulling on your jacket you turned around half swinging, recklessly I might add, in fear you'd being mugged or lefty found you first.

Why you swung so hard you twisted yourself all up falling to the ground and tripping me in the process. So there together we both lay. Started giggling at first, then we both without saying a word stared at the sky and watched the snow fall. Out of the blue you started flapping your legs and arms like a wounded goose on the ground. Nervous I guess. So I did the same. And there in the falling snow with a lightning storm together we made snow angels. Now any girl would have taken that all as enough signs. But I guess when the good lord decides to shine his grace. He shines it with all his glory. And the signs kept coming. Finishing are angels I rolled to your side and again our eyes locked. That's when I decided to lay down the law.

"Christian Host Steckell, I swear are you gonna ever make up for that night you darn near ruined if for the both of us and give me the goodnight kiss I've been waiting for ever since. And yes you did say I am you future Christmas, that just tingled my heart to the core. Little did you know since the first time in old man Holbrook's farm, I had such a crush on you. That's why I went to all daddies' ball games knowing you were a ballplayer and all.

When you finally got the nerve to kiss me it was the most incredible kiss. We both witnessed fireworks. Later to find out an electrical fire started in Mr. Noodles office at the foundry due to electric lights on the silver tree was the cause of all the sparks flying overhead. Could have burned down the foundry. Thankfully all it did was fry all the wiring in the new fancy metal extrusion equipment. Rendered them worthless. Most impressive, or not, depending on your perspective. A wire in the back warehouse ran circuit with a plug in Noodle's office and fate or bad luck, someone had draped an exposed extension wire creating instant combustibility to the rows and rows of silver trees now just smoldering with black smoke. Night guards were able to douse it with water minimizing the damage.

Told it cost Mr. Slump a fortune. Guess he got his wish. Be careful what you wish for. Yes indeed that was quite an electric show. When we both finally realized the fireworks were of the outside and not inside nature, I got my first induction to a wonderful man. He must have had a premonition everything was going to work out. Outside of some black soot and smoke damage that had tarnished his Sunday best. He was shaved, groomed, and had the same tuxedo on he wore at his wedding I was told. He was ready to be re-united with his lover."

Maw, wiped away a tear and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Now Papa does any of that stir up some memories. From the window the snow began to fall again."

I couldn't help but stare at her with complete admiration. She was as beautiful as the day next to the bon fire in the middle of the winter at old man Holbrook's farm. I got myself a foothold again. Sometimes I wonder if memories aren't like the ocean waves and a man's sanity is slowly washed away with the wear and tear of time that anchored him to the pier of life. Change is all you can call it I guess. I settled back and reached for my pipe using the metal bolt I used to pack it and took a long drawl blowing rings in the air.

I smiled. "I think I can take it from here precious. My memories are back in tack." Maw always the worrier gave me an assuring look of love, a look of compassion a look that maybe this was to be my last stage to the stories and she was losing her best friend and soulmate. I continued with my version.

Yes there stood Markus, happy and almost a youthful optimism with the hope we had everything we needed. "Did you see what happen boy. Whole thing went up in smoke. Them trees burned so fast didn't touch another lick of combustibles. Course brick and cement don't burn much. Well good riddance. Get the oils?" He asked.

"Yes," I said double checking to make sure I hadn't lost them in the snow.

Markus gave Cindy Sue a good looking over. Lowering his spectacles to get a better look. "I see you've found a need to bring another into our project?"

"Oh this is Cindy Sue."

"Ah ... now I see why my words would have little warning for you." Markus somewhat beside himself enamored by Cindy Sue, chuckled. "A fair maiden to hold the scepter of your heart. But come, there's little time. We've got to catch a flight before midnight to Santanaland."

"You said we? What about mixing the oils and firing the brick."

"I'm afraid there's no time for that. Sprinkle it on now. Between the temperature and atmospheric changes on the flight up north. It should react similar. If its gonna make a difference, you'll know when we get there. It's less than an hour north of here to Santanaland, but given the curvature of the earth and a concentric projector I think it should all work out."

"We?" I asked with all the concern in the world. "Markus I'm not very good with flight? My stomach gets queasy just going up on the Ferris wheel at the county fair."

Markus shook his head not wanting to listen. "I've got two tickets. Now I'm not sure what kind of airline they use but they distinctly said two tickets mean two people. Must be a weight and balance issue. Don't work any other way. That's how the elves explained it."

All of it seemed strange an airline that can only take two for which two tickets are made. And one hour to Santanaland? Why Santanaland had to be right around buffalo New York. I nodded yes thinking I should at least be able to stomach a trip to buffalo. Especially if I was gonna be a writer. No telling all the exciting places writing would take me, for sure the Eiffel tower, the Pyramids, Mount Everest, just to name a few.

"Wonderful," Markus said. "Wait here. I'll grab the tickets. I won't be but a minute. Don't leave this brick unguarded. I'll only be a moment."

In the time gone I sprinkled the oils on the Xbox1 prototype for which we renamed the Xbox2 prototype seeing how we had tinkered with it and made it better. But a minute turned to fifteen and I started getting worried. "Wait here Cindy Sue and guard the brick. Sometimes Markus gets a little absent minded. He probably forgot where he put the tickets."

As I approached his office my heart skipped a beat. Inside I could see Mr. Jones the security cop holding the thirty year pin of Noodle's I had put in Markus's candy dish.. and Markus in cuffs. There had to be some sort of misunderstanding.

I heard Slumps boisterous voice of confidence shoot off like the chief magistrate at the witch trails. He was declaring Markus guilty of thievery. And right on cue, Noodles head was a bobbing in no uncertain terms of his agreement. Running up the stairs to the office on the clickty clack metal steps, I caught the tail end of Slump's witch hunt. "This will shame the fine name of the Serkell's. Shameful what you've done. Just shameful. You've really let them down. Tarnished their good name. I'll accept your resignation from the board right now. Maybe save you some jail time, but the good name of Serkell. I'm afraid you've already tarnished that. Markus's eyes left no suspicion, if he weren't cuffed, you could add murder to his charges. After all the only reason that had sustained him, forced him to remain at the brickyards, denied him his own free will, was his duty to keep the maiden name of his bride in honor.

"What's happening here?" I demanded.

Slump gleeful in his tone shouted out with authority. "We've uncovered Noodles thirty-year missing silver pin. Fine detective work by Mr. Jones." Which produced a smile on the in-house cop.

"Don't forget arson, you know the fire and all with all these silver trees." The company cop added, producing a smile on Slump.

Slump was as giddy as I've had ever seen him. And he was gonna play his little ruse, truth or not, to the hilt. "That's right. Arson, lock him up. If it hadn't been for the fire he started. We'd all be celebrating Christmas in July. Sad, sad, sad, day for the kids. Terrible, terrible sight all those burned trees. Arson very bad. Very bad. Lock him up. Isn't that right Noodles?"

Now Noodles, was a smart man. Knew where he got his bread buttered. And as Markus always said, his thirty- year pin with Slump was akin to Judas Iscariot thirty shillings of silver. He would lie and cheat for Slump over just about anything. But not something any rookie fire marshal could easily trace back to Slumps insistence to put lights on an aluminum tree in his office he had been advised numerous times not too. He nodded profusely in disagreement.

Slump frowned. Thought for a moment he was gonna fire Noodles on the spot. But that didn't happen. "Oh okay," he said. "Well just scratch that one off the list. But stealing a silver pin, terrible, terrible thing. You gotta earn it. It's all about loyalty, integrity, no shortcuts. Right Noodles? What it take you? Thirty years to get that pin. Right?"

Noodles shook his head in agreement. Confused he might have missed something, sheepishly volunteered some thoughts. "Yeah that's why it's a thirty- year pin, boss."

"That's a brilliant observation Noodles, just brilliant. Hadn't thought of it in that way, but your right. Can't steal it got to earn it. About thirty years, right Noodles? Took you thirty years to earn it." If Slump could only quite himself for a moment, let his own thoughts digest. Maybe there was some good in him. After all he could talk the talk. He just couldn't bring himself to walk it. Or in most cases seemingly follow the dots.

I made my appeal to Noodles as seeing Slumps enthusiasm put it square on deaf or daft ears for all that matter. "But Mr. Noodles you yourself pinned that on me. Gave it to me. I put it in Markus's candy dish, he had nothing to do with it."

Now the security cop Jones, only wanted to do a good job. In his world the law was company policy. And that's the book he followed. No man above it in his eyes. Not even the man himself who wrote it, or I guess rewrote it .. . Mr. Slump. "That true Mister Slump?"

Slump placed his hands on the upper end of his tailored suit hanging them there in a pose of defiance and posture of rightfulness. "Of course not," Slump said in an indignant tone. "Markus has simply corrupted the mind of this child. He's a very impressionable boy, noticed it the first time I met him. Isn't that right Noodles?"

Noodles turned away gazing out of the glass window to the view of the charcoaled silver trees below. "Sure boss, anything you say." He said in a tone barely audible. Anything you say."

In that moment I truly understood that ignorance was bliss, naivety and knowledge, the lock and key. A place where some rules applied to some, and not to others. I yearned to drink the sweet cool-aid but now knew its taste to be bitter. I had left childhood behind and from that point walked amongst men. I started to protest. "You've got to let him go. You don't understand. He's got a go. It's a one-shot deal to see her again." But Markus, handcuffed, dressed in his black wedding best, face blackened by soot from the fire, stopped me.

"It's all okay boy, don't waste your breath on Noodles. He's got what he came for. Got his thirty silver shillings back. We haven't the time, nor 'THIS THE PLACE' to settle this now." He said with a slow deliberate emphasis. Markus raised his eyebrows signaling with his eyes towards a book the elves had left tucked away in the bookshelf. "Don't you worry none about me. Why don't you and your little filly grab yourself a good book from my shelf. His eyes widened as he spat out the rest. "I recommend the third one from the left second row. Fine book to entertain yourself, but not one to be read alone. Think you'll find everything you need in it." He winked. But hurry time waits for no man. Merry Christmas."

"But Renata? You've worked so hard to get back to her. You'll be incomplete without each other."

"We all work hard son, maybe your right sometimes it comes down to just plain and simple good or bad luck. I don't know, maybe I reached the end of my good cosmic karma. Maybe I sold it all just for a moment in her life." He smiled. "But I'd do it all the same again, just for that short passage between our souls. "Go boy go now, time waits for no man. And remember it takes two to tango." He winked as they escorted him out of his office and down the halls of the foundry.

I did as Markus told me. He had a tendency to bookmark his books with important notes or things of value. Inside the book I found the two tickets to Santanaland. Grabbing the tickets, I rushed down the steps, over to the lab and in one sweeping motion snatched the brick and pulled Cindy Sue by the arm. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"To the airport we got to catch the last trolley over."

"The airport?"

"Yes I'll explain on the way. But we gotta hurry."

Once seated, I explained it as best it had been explained to me. Cindy Sue god bless her heart and for reasons I can't explain, agreed to help me. Provided of course once we hit the airport, she could at least check in with her parents and try as best, given the circumstances explain her intentions."

When we reached the airport, we checked the board and found every single flight of TWA and Allegheny Air, from Boston, to Chicago, to Miami, and Milwaukee, and every other flight, with the exception of Polar-Air had been canceled due to the Christmas Eve snow storm moving in. And that's where it all got a little confusing. Not one agent, or pilot, or stewardess, at that airport had ever heard of Polar-Air. And to make matters more confusing, after I had pleaded and beg for an agent to see for herself. Polar Air had simply disappeared off the board. We had no way of finding its gate. We were just about ready to give up. When a janitor closing off a restroom overheard our discussion.

"Did you all say Polar Air?" he said with a strung out southern accent.

"Yes," I eagerly responded hoping to finally get some help.

"Polar Air right?" He said again this time posturing himself comfortably with a nice lean on his mop.

"Yes," I said again. "Polar air flight 1225."

"Will of course I know its flight 1225. You think I'm a dingle bird or what? Only one they run. Once a year mind you." He dipped his mop in the water. Like time had no meaning.

I on the other hand, had no time. "Yes, I mean no I didn't call you what ever you called yourself. What did you call yourself again? But yes Polar air flight 1225.Where do we board? We can't seem to find the gate."

He made a few sweeps of his mop slow and methodical. Then with a confused look scratched his head. "Dingle bird, I think I said. Do you think I'm a dingle bird or what?"

I was getting frustrated." I don't even know what a dingle bird is." He started to explain to me what they were. Using his mop to draw a picture. I stopped him. "Look sir I just need to know what gate Polar Air 1225 boards at."

He stopped for a moment and again leisurely leaned up against his mop. He glanced at his watch. "Well you better hurry last flight goes out here in just a few minutes." He went back to mopping like he hadn't a care in the world.

My blood was boiling, extracting information from him was like playing charades. Cindy Sue stepped in. "Is that Mr. Clean detergent you're using on the floors? Can't believe how clean their getting." She bent down closer to the floor to admire them. I just shook my head in disbelief that the balance of Christmas Eve was coming down to which floor detergent he used.

He smiled stopped mopping and again leaned up against his mop. "No mam, that's my own special industrial brand I make. Just a lot of bleach, add some lemon smell to it, and of course some soaps made from hog's grease."

"Ah," she said shaking her head in understanding as if nothing else mattered then the conversation between the two souls and their quest for a clean floor. "The lemon hides the bacon."

"Exactly mam, he said with a smile displaying a missing tooth or two. Next time you come by, I'll write down the recipe for it." Now what directed this man's thinking, I can't tell you, but Cindy Sue sure seemed to know how. Suddenly he was more than happy to make sure we found our way. "You folks better hurry." He stopped to think scratching his head. "Go down yonder, make a right. Wait. . No! Make a left, then another right. No! that ain't right either. Tell ya what. Follow me. I can show yins better then explain it." When we got to the end of the building, a lone metal door stood rusty and half blocked by a magazine rack seemingly unopened for quite some time. No agent in site.

I looked at the janitor. And he motioned with his hands. "Yins better hurry."

I turned the handle of the door without any luck.

The janitor seeing my plight hollered out. "Give it a good kick, ain't been open for a year."

"Great I thought," what of kind airline was this. After a few kicks and a hard shoulder to the door it broke free. The janitor waved, and Maw and I found us outside in a gusty howling wind of whiteout snow, and fog to boot, leaving little visibility. I was just about to give up when an elf like man appeared out of what seemed nowhere. "Are you Markus and Christian? Made the last call several times. Just about ready to close the flight."

I nodded yes. "I'm Christian but this is Cindy Sue. She'll be taking Markus's seat. Is that all right?"

The dwarf shook his head. Putting his hand out to take the tickets. He was rushing us. "Got two tickets, need two people." I don't give a hill of beans who sits where. He took the two tickets punched a hole in them and gave them back. "Hurry the flights getting ready to leave. He pointed to a red beacon I could barely make out amongst the swirling snow. "Follow it." He said waving us off. "Hurry it's just about ready to take off."

"Not gonna have any trouble in all this snow. Are we? Seems to be the only airplane operating tonight. Why you can barely see through the fog let alone snow."

The dwarf went cross eyed. "Airplane? Fog? Let me see those tickets again." He rechecked them a little peeved he had to do so. Satisfied they were correct handed them back. "Just head for those red lights. Rudolf will take care of you. Snow and Fog," he muttered to himself. "Of all the ridiculous reasons not to fly. Oh and I almost forgot." He pulled a bag from behind his small podium. It was filled with candy canes.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"The flight. Should be enough to get you there. Now hurry."

I took the bag of candy. By now the snow was coming down in buckets. It was hard to see the red beacon let alone the plane. I hoped this pilot Rudolph was as good as the elf suggested, given the fog and all. Now recently I would have said it takes a lot to surprise me with everything going on, but when I reached the red beacon and it was attached to the nose of a reindeer, well you could have only imagined.

"Rudolf," Dorsey and Casey called out together.

I looked down at them. Well of course it was, and next to him a small step leading to a blanket for a seat with a vine of mistletoe as the seatbelt. Maw took to petting it and noticed he had a sweet tooth and took liberties to pulling out some candy canes. When he finished off at least two of them, he made a heehaw sound close to what one would suspect from a deer. What came out next almost floored me in my tracks:

"Welcome aboard," he said using his antler to point towards his back. "Please get seated and buckle up. This is the last flight tonight to Santanaland. We'll be cruising at a comfortable three thousand feet. With a travel time just under one hour. Should be a smooth flight, maybe a little turbulence on takeoff. Once we reach our cruising altitude, we'll try to get that seat belt sign off for you, so you can stretch your legs. For now, sit back relax and enjoy the flight.

A talking reindeer of all things. I rubbed my eyes to make certain the blizzard of snow falling had not distorted my vision. And chalked it up as a prerecorded tape player. But that theory disappeared quicker then it came.

"Well hurry up," the reindeer said hitting his Paw on the ground twice. "We haven't got all night."

For a moment I froze in disbelief. "You talk!"

"Of course I do, Maybe you prefer German or French. "Pas se do ferra." He said sprouting out several languages to my utter surprise.

I stood spellbound. The county Ferris wheel one thing, a plane another, but a flying reindeer who talked? Cindy Sue seeing my hesitation and a farm girl with years of riding experience mounted the deer first taking the reins. "Come on it'll be fun." With her encouragement I one hopped onto its back. And there we sat Cindy Sue and I not sure what to expect next.

I paused the story and took a moment to take a swig of my creamy eggnog sitting on my table next to my chair. Wiping away the residue of frost from my beard. My eyes and attention fixated on the roaring fire cracking away at the cherry tree logs I cut this summer. To the right of that the silver tree and blue spruce pines surrounded by a room of people I loved, and that loved me. I studied their enthralled eyes patiently waiting for a big climax to justify the cost of their heavily invested time in my story. I chuckled to myself. They, my friends, and family unbeknown to them were tokens I had indeed lived a blessed life. And the story I shared of Markus, a catalyst to get here. I would not let them down.

"What next?" Dorsey asked fidgeting in the first row as Maw started towards the front suspicious of my silence.

And Casey being the astute young girl looked in the back for grownup support. "I think he's got 'Glaze Over' Memaw."

"Glaze Over?" I responded relighting my pipe and blowing a ring of smoke causing Maw to hold her ground in the back. "Will you certainly couldn't have blamed me if I had. A talking reindeer with a direct flight to Santanaland. No sir I should have had it, but I didn't."

"What next?" Dorsey pleaded now well beyond his seated attention span time.

Well the snow danced swirls around us and together Cindy Sue and I waited. We waited until suddenly as if Rudolf had been given pushback Clarence, he started backing up really slow. Between the snow falling in front of the deer it almost looked like a team of elves were backing him up, reins in hand, just like a push crew.

Then I swore I heard Rudolf running what he called a pre-departure checklist.

Antlers: (He rotated them up and down left and right) Checked.

Hoofs: (He dug at the snow) Clear and free.

Beacon:" (Looked cross-eyed at his nose.) On

Tail: (Wagged it up down left right) Checked.

Seatbelt: (He looked back) On.

With that he slowly trotted to an undeveloped area of the field. (Which I can only assume Polar Air used for takeoffs.) Checked the wind sock. Tilted his head in the direction of the wind. Pawed his hoofs twice into the snow. Let out a snort followed by a squeal. Then a slow trot, followed by a gait change into a full gallop, and a leap into the air catching a wind drift. And airborne we were.

Cindy Sue held tightly to the reins and I tightly to Cindy sue. Now if anyone's flown before, throw that idea out the window. It's nothing like riding on a flying reindeer.

I guess it's best to say it's like riding a wild horse bareback through a field with a ten-foot jumps coming up. And turbulence? I'd rather ride through a thunderstorm on a kite then ride clear skies on a reindeer. At least on takeoff and especially busting through the puffy clouds.

At first it was dark, not a sight to see below, not a tree, hill or even star cast its light, nothing just white snow and clouds mixed with darkness. Once we did bust through the white creamy clouds, I settled in a little. After all it was romantic. The moon was full bloom. It's light painting streaks across the clouds. A harvest moon shining a pathway across the sky. Hopefully to Santanaland which as best I could guess somewhere north of buffalo. That's where I was wrong. Now this Albert fellow working for the government had yet to explain his theory of relativity. Which you see even the elves had trouble explaining. But as best I understood parts of it. Speeding along in say a train you got no sense to how fast you're really going without seeing another train pass. And sitting on that reindeer taking in the sights I thought what were passing counties ended up being countries. Weren't until a DC3 nearly rocked us out of the sky with wake did I realize we had passed Buffalo New York a long time ago. Fact is, kind of got all cozy holding onto Cindy Sue, and it weren't till I heard Rudolf running another checklist I'd I realize we were close to landing.

"Legs," (He did a quick check of their position) "Down and locked."

"Beacon," (He looked cross-eyed at his nose) "On."

"Seatbelt Sign: "On." hadn't even realized it was off, still wonder where one goes to stretch his legs when it's off. Then Rudolf spoke again.

"Ladies and gentlemen should be on the ground few minutes beautiful weather in Santanaland showing -5 degrees gusty winds and zero visibility with heavy snow. Thanks for joining us tonight hope to see you next year."

Rudolf lowered his antlers favoring the side of the wind and headed for rings of green and red smoke (that I swear looked a lot like my pipe rings but much bigger) leading to what one could only hope was a good landing spot. Suddenly all lift faltered. Rudolf's head bent further into the wind and his tail shot out to the opposite direction. Lowering his head his rear hind legs touched first bouncing back in the air then down again. Next his front legs touched, dragging and kicking patches of snow until we came to a full stop. A small group of elves assembled and led Rudolf by his reins to a small post. Waiting for us I recognized Twitter and Tex and another elf that appeared older and maybe an inch taller. They seemed surprise to see Cindy Sue and not Markus.

"You're late." The elf said. "And where is Markus?" And nothing more.

"Had a hot date." I said extending my arm and wrongly cracking a joke in hopes of breaking the ice. "I'm Christian."

He eyeballed me for a moment. "I'm fully aware of who you are." He said looking over Cindy Sue next. "You," he said pointing to Cindy Sue. "Who are you? Now I know that face but can't put a naughty or nice name to it. He snapped his finger and Twitter handed him a strange device he called an IPad. Scrolling through it he came to her name. "Okay. Now were up to speed. "I'm Email, follow me." He started to walk then stopped. "And keep up. Time works a little different this time of year up here at the higher altitudes. It's a space time paradox. Happens for us once a year. Ain't got time to explain it. So keep up. Any questions?" Cindy Sue and I dared not ask. "Good!"

"Email," I repeated. You folks sure do have some funny names.

Tex piped in. "It will all make sense in a couple years. The names that is. Not sure when you folks our scheduled for it. But we release new technology every Christmas. Guy name Albert figures it out. Marvelous discovery. Works for the government.

"Albert?" I said." The patent worker? He sure is a busy guy.".

"Naw," Tex said. "Different Albert, you're thinking of Einstein. We're talking Gore."

Email suddenly stopped and looked over at me. Apparently my joke had caught up to him. "Date what is a hot date?"

"A joke," I said, "and a bad one at that. The truth is Markus got detained by our boss Slump."

"Slump?" Email repeated the name annoyed by it. "Why do I know that name?"

Twitter approached him and chirped into his ear. "Ah okay. The Slumpanator, Slumpy, your Slumpness. Get a lot reports on that one. Oh almost forgot you did bring the Xbox1 with you?" He asked walking even faster now.

"I did," I answered pulling it out and offering it to him. He took a glance at it and passed it to Tex who passed it to Twitter who held it to his nose first then licked it. When Twitter offered it back I assured him I felt it safe in his hands for the time being. "We call it Xbox2 with the modifications and all, hope you all don't mind."

Email responded without stopping. "Don't give a hill of beans what you call it. Works don't it?"

"Ah . . . Well yes in principle and that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

He stopped. "Talk we haven't the time. You do realize this is Christmas Eve. And contrary to the silly little rumor your parents do all the work, if we don't deliver a lot of grown up folks are gonna look pretty silly trying to explain empty socks hanging on the fireplace. Besides you said in principle it works, that's good. Here up north were all men of principle." With that Emil resumed walking. About this same time I noticed a loose shoe string, bent down, tied it, and when I looked up a could barely see them in the distance.

Now Santanaland, which I later found out was the North Pole, has some oddities about it, especially concerning space and time. Bending to tie my shoes I hadn't figured I been at that spot for more than a moment. When I looked up it was if I were in a dream and the rest of the party including Cindy Sue had gapped a sizeable distance between us, maybe a half mile or better. Glancing at my watch I noticed it had completely stopped. Not more than a minute might have passed since leaving home. I shook my watch putting it to my ear. I could hear the wheels turning ticking keeping time but nothing more. I adjusted the time forward to see its effect and it immediately sprung back to the past time.

By the time I caught up with the others at the top of the ridge, Email was fit to be tied. All I could do is mutter an apology and something about my shoe laces.

With a scowl on his face I knew he was busting at the seams to say something. "Now didn't I already take the time to explain to you about time." I nodded yes. "Well then how many times do I need to go over time before you take the time to understand time? I mean time after time after time it seems I'm spending all my time talking about time. Do you really think we have time for this?

I shrugged my shoulders completely confused. "I don't know but that seems like a fair enough question."

"Fair? What's fair got to do with this? I got to deliver over two billion gifts across the world, in less than twelve hours. Elf magic or not, that's hardly fair given the time restraints. Do you see how fair has nothing to do with time." I figured it best to say nothing at this time. And with that he waved us on, and soon the most wonderful village appeared in our sights.

Chapter

It was a village of contrasting bright colors. Each wooden roof, each shutter, a melody of colors red, blue, green purple, and yellow. And the greenest evergreens cast against the stage of clean cold snow piled high against the wooden sided cottages. It was warm and cozy. A living Macy crystal Christmas store display.

In the background, a sky lit from moonlight rays with dancing lights of the northern sky. One bright light twinkling star stood out set high amongst millions that led north. I would have loved to see Markus's look on his face watching the blue and green dancing lights guarding the doorway to his soulmate.

Reaching the village Email broke off on his own and Twitter took the lead giving Tex and me a chance to chat. "I sure hope this works." Tex seemed to ignore me.

"Did you hear me? I don't know if this thing even works. I mean humans unlike you folks, we just can't count on magic to get us through things."

Tex stopped and turned to me." I heard you the first time. I wish you could hear yourself. Magic? That's gonna be your cop out if none of this works for you? Do you know what magic even is?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Something out of the ordinary or something that defies normal rules?"

"What are normal rules, that's a confusing thought."

That seemed easy enough to answer I thought. "I don't know uniformities or regularities in the world. Structured patterns, down south we call it "laws of nature" it just the way things are. We can just about explain anything applying em."

"Really? Please do tell me about this crazy thing called gravity. And we can by pass mass and space curvature and start from there."

My mind raced for an answer. Sort'a like driving a car going from gas station to gas station that didn't take credit cards. Sooner or later you run out of gas. I chuckled. "I guess gravity is magic."

Tex smacked me on the back, his grin ear to ear. "And all this time you been utilizing magic and you didn't even know it. I want to share something with you. Guardian's gave it to us, we gave it to a fella named Gandhi. Not sure its got around to you folks yet.

"Your beliefs become your thoughts, Your thoughts become your words, Your words become your actions, Your actions become your habits, Your habits become your values, Your values become your destiny."

"Magic is just belief and nothing more. It's what creates and builds everything. It's really that simple." With that he moved all the quicker. "Come on its time to meet the big guy."

Chapter

We headed towards a large wooden workshop where outside sat Santa's double railed side by side sleigh. From a distance like a line of ants carrying sugar from a picnic basket the elves were collectively making the final push to load Santa's sleigh. Inside the workshop through the window stood old Saint Nick kissing the Ms. Clause ever so gently on the cheek as she bid him a farewell.

Now I will tell you in my life, I have met the Mayor of our fine city, the Governor of our great state, and a full bird Colonel during the fourth of the July parade. But never and I mean never, have a met someone with the charisma and charm of old Saint Nick. A true ambassador to the goodwill of all mankind. He had a smile that could put cheer into the most dreadful of beings one might ever encounter. Yes indeed it was a special day indeed. And to boot I think he knew me better then I knew him.

Christian Host Steckell so glad you made it. I venture you brought the brick. I've heard so many wonderful things about it. I gazed at Twitter and Tex who's eyes ventured anywhere but mine. Hard to tell what they told the boss man.

"And this lovely creature," he bent down and gave Cindy Sue a pinch on the cheek. Must be Cindy Sue." Cindy Sue nervous not sure what to do bent her knees in a curtsy as if she had met the king or queen herself.

Markus couldn't make it I sadly said. And Santa's response surprised me.

"I know, he was never meant too." Santa jumped on the sleigh and extended his arm first to Cindy Sue. "All aboard," he shouted grabbing the reins. After Cindy Sue, came Tex, Twitter followed by Email who had just returned from his duties carting a jumbo collection of charts, permits and papers.

"What Email?" asked feeling Santa's eye's bare down on him. "It's the new department of commerce. There really pushing hard forcing us on a select airway routes. Regulations coming whether you want them or not. Sky's to crowded. Things aren't like it used to be. No more cowboying it up here."

Santa shook his head in disgust. "Be a cold day you know where before I follow those routes. Used to be only birds, bugs, and Santa roamed the skies. And now you saying too many crows? Well that don't even make sense."

"I said crowds not crows." Email responded practically yelling, given Santa's hearing issues.

"You don't have to yell. I heard you the first time. That's the problem with the government folks. Ain't got nothing better to do then meddle in people's business and count crows I guess. Only one aircraft has the right away on Christmas Eve, and that my little pointed ear friend, is the North Pole express."

Email gave up arguing and instead pulled out the new Santa sleigh checklist. Santa's eyes again barred down on him.

"Hey, the department of commerce is requiring checklist on every flight. It's part of aviation. Your part of aviation. You better get with it pal."

Santa shook his head. "You even got the poor reindeer doing it!" Email started the checklist.

"Reins": He said loudly waiting for Santa's response. Then cleared his throat. "Reins" he said again waiting for Santa to respond.

"There in my hands you can see that." Santa said

"That's not the correct response." I say reins and you say check.

"Check what there in my hands you see that."

Alright let's move on, "brake," brake," he said again this time louder.

"How can I brake when we haven't even started?"

"Brakes you say released, it's right here see."

"Let me see that checklist." Santa said. Email handed it to him. Santa flipped it out of the sleigh. "Checklist complete."

With that he snapped the reins let out a ho ho ho and almost in sync the church bells chimed, and gauntlets of smoke rings appeared acting as departure lights. The higher they went the stronger the winds. You should have seen Email scrambling to catch his charts permits and logs when a cold northern wind kicked us hard from behind scattering them across the sky. The journey had begun.

Chapter

At first it seemed a bit chilly then got warm enough for us to take our coats off. Tex said it was heat friction on account of our speed. Felt like I was roasting next to a roaring fire. And the stars, will they go on forever, never seen them so clear, and boy do they twinkle.

It was a voyage I will never forget. Darn near hit the Eiffel tower landing in Paris. Scooped snowballs off the peaks of Mount Everest. Tapped a crocodile on the head skimming the Amazon River. Swore we woke the stone Sphinx outside the Pyramids of Giza. Stopped to fix the second hand on the Prague clock in old town. Followed the bonfires along the Levis of New Orleans.

We traveled from the farthest point east, to the tip of Antarctica, to the lands of Iceland, past the Great Wall of China, down through the Grand Canyon. Well you get the point we saw it all in one night to boot. It's as if time had no meaning, like we snuck in each slice of time, experienced it, then snuck back out.

But now I'm getting ahead of myself. And as miraculous as a night and blessed to share it with Cindy Sue. I wasn't there for a joy ride. I had a job to perform. One that the big guy and Markus was depending on me for. That much Email graciously reminded me. Now remember it wasn't long after takeoff winds had scattered his charts and logs. And unfortunately, with the winds went all the meticulously logged hidden key locations (be it under the mat in the light post) and slightly ajar entries, like doors and windows, that opened with a snug push. All as a contingency plan should mine fail.

Santa tried his best to calm Email. "Have some hot chocolate you know it calms you. Here you want to take the reins? You know you like driving." Email just pouted staring out the side of the sleigh. "Well be that way. Don't care for your company up front if your gonna pout the whole night anyway." Santa looked over at me and winked. "Besides every things gonna work out just find with the new Xbox2 isn't that right Christian"?

I nodded back and turned just as quickly to avoid any further eye contact.

"And to this day a savior is borne." Santa said. And then started humming Christmas tunes as he prompted the reindeer with his reins.

Cindy Sue proud and naive snuggled her head on my shoulder while holding my hand. To her I was the knight in shining armor. To Email a fake, his laser eyes burning a hole in the back of my skull. As much as sharing a voyage of a life time with Cindy Sue would have been any guys dream back home, I am quite sure there is a time for romance and a time for work and with my mind's eye flashing tortured pictures of misty eye children staring at empty stockings, I'd had gladly welcomed his company.

My thoughts doused by an abrupt swerve by Santa listing our entire sleigh to the starboard side, nearly foundering us to avoid oncoming traffic. Twitter now comfortable seated half asleep on top Santa's Christmas bag, flew off the sleigh only managing to save himself with the dangling tie ropes of the bag. Two Christmas kittens, with red ribbons on top poked their head above the bag and meowed in wonderment between them a puppy joining in with a bark of "what the hay happened?"

"Holy holly," Tex shouted out. Did you see that? Darn near run us off the sky."

Emil triumphantly sat arms folded a smug look on his face. "Still thinking we don't need the route maps?"

Santa chuckled, "maybe. But pretty sure that weren't a commercial flight."

"And why would you say that?"

Santa pointed to the plane making a 180 degree turn and headed right back in our direction. "Maybe the red barons lost. Think you boys better hatch things down."

Those words barely left his lips as the plane buzzed us for a second time rocking the sleigh in his wake making no mistake he was not a friendly. Santa like an old captain riding the sea or fighter pilot tested and battle savory, rode out the wake shouting yee high and commending his reindeer. "You show em boys."

The next pass by the hostile boogie challenged our sleigh heading straight on in a game of chicken. Now all the stuff I had read about old Saint Nick would have never prepared me for his evasive action, or should I say lack of it. His resolve the grit westerns are made of. Barring with fire in his eyes he clutched the reins tighter driving the herd and sleigh on a straight on collision. You should have seen the beady eyes of the intruder darn near bulge out of his socket realizing he had chosen the wrong foe in his game of chicken. "Slump's" name was written across the port side of his aircraft. I knew I had recognized the aircraft from his day at the foundry.

The dogfight was on. We twisted and turned and dove and lifted, in invasive maneuvers, reminding me why I avoided the Ferris wheel at the county fair. Now what happen next again pick your reasoning and call it fate, bad luck or good luck, but in all the crazy moves the reins had gotten tangled together and we nearly came to a stop.

Someone had to climb out on the reindeer and untangle the reins. And that someone had to have legs longer than an elf and a weight that wouldn't throw the whole caboose off. Now the plan on paper didn't look bad. Get to the front unhook the lead, twist it around, re-hook it, and get back in the sleigh. That was the easy part. The fun part was dangling at thirty-five thousand feet with one hundred-mile winds and the Slumpinator on your tail to complicate things a bit.

Regardless of it and my concerns I soon found myself standing on the edge of the sleigh, wind pelting my body, mind focused, body tight trying to maintain balance and scared to death to boot. Now Santa had briefed me on how he would go about getting to the front, hopping from reindeer, to reindeer, and thought if I knew their names it might make it better for all. But given the high work load and stress I'd been lucky to name three of em. Wasn't like I didn't have a lot of support and ideas circulating either. Everyone including Cindy Sue screamed instructions at the top of their lungs all in vain as the howling winds carried the message away before it hit my ears.

Standing on the sleigh rail I prepped myself mentally. "I could do this," I said to myself, trying to combat my shaking legs and heart beat busting through my chest. I looked at my moving target cast amongst a pitch-black sky and snow to boot. Had to be at least ten feet between us. Not even sure Chip Dorkin could have jumped that far. "You gotta believe," I told myself. I tried to remember Tex's little poem, thoughts become something, and words beliefs, and actions habit. That wasn't right I said to myself.

And then I remembered what Paw always said. "Sometimes you just got to jump in feet first and see where you land." The first ones the hardest, I told myself. And with that, I closed my eyes, crouched down, and leaped in the air for the first reindeer, barely grabbing onto his tail, hearing a shriek, and avoiding a hoof trying to dislodge me from his tail. Luckily, I was able to climb on his back. I wrapped my legs around his belly, and my arms around his neck, holding on as tight as I could while wondering why a small-town boy who just wanted to go to the local university and marry the pretty Cindy Sue had to save Christmas in the first place.

But that thought fleeted quick enough as I eyed the Slumpinator bearing down on the sleigh again. I knew I had to get to the front quick or we were all sitting ducks. With that thought in mind I stood up nearly tumbling when I looked down and started hopping like I was a leap frog on a lily pond. Until I reached the red blinking light attached to Rudolf and his red nose. Quickly going to work. I all but had it untangled when Slumps plane came so close his wake knocked me off the reindeer. Luckily as I tumbled off Rudolph, I kept hold of the reins and instead of plummeting to my demise I found myself dangling twenty feet below holding on for dear life.

Now I might not have been the best baseball player or even a good athlete by Chip Dorkin standards, but one thing in life I did excel at was gym glass rope climbing. I skirted up that rope faster than itsy bitsy spider up the water spout. And soon had the reins untangled and found myself back in the safety of the sleigh cab, holding onto my Cindy Sue, just before Slump made another pass.

It was all go for Santa again with all his engines running and Slump hot on our tail so close I swear he shaved a few inches off the back end of the landing track rails with his propeller. "Hold on Santa shouted with a wink and mischief smile. Pulling on his reins the reindeer shot straight up in vertical flight. Baron Slump followed, grinning ear to ear, on a path to soon overtake us. Suddenly his grin disappeared as the natural order of flight, thrust, drag, gravity, and weight, exceeded its limitations putting him into a death spiral to the ground. Froze in the terror of his demise Slump was motionless until shouts of Jump came from our sleigh awakening him and he abandoned his aircraft like a rat leaving a sinking ship.

Santa did a double barrel loop catching the distressed pilot free falling from the sky. Twitter and Tex quickly wrapped their capture in Christmas ribbon binding him to the back of the sleigh stuffing an apple dipped cane in his mouth to quiet him. With all that excitement over, Santa hadn't flinched in the least bit appearing as if he was no more than on a country ride on a Sunday afternoon. The visibility in the meantime had gotten better and the snow stopped. In the distance I could see our first house. My stomach gargled as I searched for a chimney.

Reaching it I was relieved a real chimney sprouted from the roof. The elves jumped off first in a methodical sense of urgency, Santa on the other hand you'd had thought had all night. He hoeing and laughing you could tell he was enjoying the moment. Even stopped to pet the reindeer before grabbing his gift filled satchel, which miraculously transformed to a size that accommodated both him, and it, down the chimney. Cindy Sue and I stayed seated at first, as one house became two, became many, and the anxiety to use the brick got lost in the festive spirit and chilled tone set by the big guy himself. Maybe around the umpteen house Cindy Sue and I decided to join in the gaily activity and plunged down the chimney with the rest.

Jumping down, or in, as I had watched the others do. I was prepared to smack the ground; instead we softly floated to the floor. Even stranger was the chimney fire that lit the fireplace seemed suspended in time, sparks hanging in the air neither moving or hot to the touch. A dog sitting next to the fire, whose head high and alert and eyes seemingly fixated on us yet hadn't budged a centimeter of an inch. All while we in contrast moved within this space and world of suspension in normal speed.

The elf's and Santa went to work, and it was nothing shy of good poetry. The elf's in constant motion and little wasted movement carefully distributed the gifts under the tree. While Santa in contrast, leisurely filled the stockings, took a moment to straighten a bulb on the tree, picked up his cookie, took a bite followed by a swig of milk, strolled over to the mantle and like a proud old grandpa chuckle as he seemingly reminisced over the family pictures hung on the wall. Then up the chimney, the elf's first then Cindy Sue and me. I hadn't but looked up the stack thinking it was gonna be a good climb when the forces of something unknown pulled me straight up and landed me squarely on my feet atop the roof. The elves impatient ducked their heads twice down the chimney hole waiting for Santa to finish. When Santa finally appeared, their faces showed their concerns. He smiled "Well make it up on the next one." but as the roofs and chimneys continued, (lucky for me) it was apparent the ritual for Santa never changed, and there was no making it up on the next one. He was a true maestro spreading the Christmas spirit. And as the night progressed, even the elf's who up until now were all business, started allowing the festive spirit to seep in and chill out their demeanor.

I had all but forgotten at this point about the brick. Caught in the excitement of heaving gifts, filling stockings, and even listening to a story or too as Santa ruminated on family pictures. Now Billy Bob, he said, asked for a basketball. Boy shot up near four inches this summer. And Mary Lou his sister, she won the third-grade spelling bee spelling chrysanthemum. That's a Christmas flower you know. She wanted that new nine pack coloring pencils we make, so she can write and spell words in different colors. And so it went with Saint Nick, at each house he had a story to tale about each child as if he kept an ever so watchful eye on them.

Then up the chimney back on the sleigh laughing and even caroling Christmas songs along the way, until we came to a stop on and older copper roof to a mansion. The sleigh went silent as the eyes aboard focused on a chimneyless flue. Email still pressing work into every valuable click of the clock, broke the silence first, his eyes fixated on me.

He jumped from the sleigh seat waddled his short legs over to the flue sticking out of the tattered roof and peered down the small metal black diameter of the pipe. Popping his head out he looked over at me, aimed his fingers at me like an imaginary gun, and deepened his voice." I know what you're thinking punk, is that a six inch or five-inch pipe, truth be told in all this excitement I plump forgot, so what's it gonna be punk. You feel lucky? Or not?"

I hadn't the foggiest idea what he meant by all that. But it must have been an inside joke for which I was on the outside. Cause it sure brought a laugh to all the others including the fat guy. Elf humor I was finding out was a lot like elf magic, confusing to say the least.

When the laughing stopped Twitter poked me. "Ah I think its show time. Its Xbox1 time."

I pulled it from the wrapping. "Xbox2," I said not sure why I felt the need to correct him. Gone were the laugh song singing and holly jolly feelings, now all eyes were upon me as I walked over looking for the best place to place the brick.

I felt the vast horizons of my thoughts shrink and tunnel into darkness. The endless space of my mind normally filled with doors to things like reason, imagination, memories, now covered in darkness. Stage fright was all I could think.

I rubbed my hand over the brick. It was red, not like a peppermint candy cane when I poured the frankincense and myrrh oil over it. Just red like a normal brick, no green, no white. I wondered if the altitude pressure could really compensate not cooking it in the kiln like Markus believed. I gave it a good rub and as I put it next to the black metal pipe, I softly spoke to it like I did my baseball bat before stepping in the batter's box. "You and me, we can do this." And then stood back, waiting for it to activate itself.

Now I can't say for sure how long I stood staring at the brick. Time in itself, on Christmas Eve, hanging with Santa's gang, is let's say out of the ordinary to begin with. But it felt like the entirety of my life passed before me. If it weren't for Email shouting out, "dud! Bust!" Followed by Cindy Sue offering me encouragement and scolding Email for being a bully. I might never have come out of the beginning stages of 'Glaze Over' and its catatonic freeze.

Maybe it was the warmth of her eyes or the touch of her hand on my face. I'm not sure, but suddenly I felt a surge of energy shoot through my body. And without thinking, caring, where I was or why I was. I reached over to her and pulled her within inches. We locked eyes and I fell deep into the caverns of her soul, we were old kindred spirits united. Her skin tasted soft with the hint of purple orchids I kissed her, wanted to devour her. Then like it always did around her, the snow began to fall.

I heard a clinging of the brick first on the tin roof then a roar and what sounded like splintering of tin and wood. I thought given the neglect of the old place maybe the roof had started to give in. But that notion dispelled followed by clapping. When I turned and opened one eye while still holding Cindy Sue, I witnessed the lone brick now many, and a chimney sprouted in its place.

To this day I'm still not sure whether the Christmas snow or kiss or maybe even both brought are brick to life, but there in all its glory stood the finest chimney I have ever seen. Email grabbed a black bag for which I could see the contents contained coal. I had not seen it prior to this house. Santa waved him off with no uncertain terms. "Not this house." Email, double checked his IPad and shrugged his shoulders, no use arguing with the big guy. He had veto power on everything. He put it back in the sleigh. So just a word to the wise, Santa does give coal to those that misbehave.

Casey nudged Dorsey. Implying he was a viable candidate somewhere down the line if he didn't straighten up. Dorsey stuck his tongue out then shushed her so he could hear the rest of the story. I smiled and continued the story.

"Hurry," Twitter said not sure the chimney would last. "It's I I I o'clock. Imagination our greatest gift gods speed our only friend. We all jumped in Santa the bravest of heart first. Looking up he smiled waving us on. "Come on we haven't all night." He smiled letting out a howl of laughter knowing in his mind he did.

Now what I hadn't realized with the Christmas fog lifting off the rivers was where we were. As many different places we had already been as best I could guess was somewhere between the North Pole and maybe Kansas. Popping my head out the chimney the room stretched on forever to a vast empty cold house with one chair and table. First thing I noticed was cats, twenty or more, feral in nature one had to be quick to see them. The floors echoed and creaked with hallow moans. It was dark, cept for one candle that burned in the halls near the bedroom. Above it a picture.

I shuddered, as if someone had walked over my grave. This house unlike all the others, was simply a fortress, a tomb. It smelt of cats not Christmas cookies, no decorative Christmas ornaments, not even a tree. Stray cats roamed its halls. The house was dead. I tugged on Santa's coat and he turned to me.

"This is the strangest of homes. Why they don't even celebrate Christmas, are you sure we should be here?" I wondered if maybe Email's notes may have helped us avoid such a dreadful place.

Santa looked at me as if I were nothing more than a naïve child. "Here is where the spirit of Christmas is needed more than anywhere." He pointed to the picture above the candle. "There you'll find your answer." With that Santa and the elves went to work tugging on a long stem protruding from the bag. With one last mighty tug a live blue spruce Christmas tree fully decorated popped from the bag. That was an amazing bag indeed.

Walking over to the candle, I recognized the picture immediately. It was Renata Nardino Serkell. I smacked myself on the head. Markus's place, who else would have chosen to live in such a cold dreary place.

Putting the finishing touches, a fully decorated tree now stood in the den. It lit up the room. A small gift under it. I asked Twitter what it was. He smiled. "Something I think that will make his Christmas quite cheerful. I stared at the package; I couldn't imagine what outside of his trip to the galactic doorway would do that. I reminded Twitter of this, and the deal. He smiled. "All in good time. Everything and anything can only happen when it does."

I wasn't sure what he meant but I hoped he wasn't backing out of his end of the deal. On the way out, I was pleased the chimney operated like the real ones gently floating us upward and gingerly setting us down.

When the last of us came out. The chimney rumbled shook and then collapsed on itself inward returning the roof to its previous structure and a lone brick where I had left it.

And so, it went, east to west, to south to north, we traveled the globe. Crossed the oceans, through the valleys, over the mountains. Each time the brick performed honorably with just a ever so slight sluggishness as the morning sun cropped over the horizon.

Right before turning north on his last two stops. For which I will say at times his stops had a randomness that only he could explain. And nobody questioned him, not even Email. Santa winked with an ornery twinkle in his eye when the elf's asked about what to do with Slump. Not sure of are whereabouts, but frozen glaciers and miles of barren tundra blocked in by the sea screamed Antarctica or at least the most isolated lands we had seen all night. As the sleigh pulled off. You couldn't have painted a wider smile on the Eskimo maiden, beyond her prime, and eyeing her new mate all wrapped up in ribbon. And his gift of coal that would keep many of nights warm in the cold nights.

"She won't leave her homelands." Santa said. "Been scratching my noggin for years trying to find her the perfect gift. Maybe does em both some good, thaw his frozen heart a bit? She's a tad bit outdoorsy for most but got a kind heart. I'll check on em next year see how things are going.

Now on to Cindy Sues. Where Twitter still fascinated by the silver tree, couldn't help but decorate it, while Santa and the rest of his entourage placed the gifts around the tree. I took my own gift and stooled a kiss from the sweet lips of my Cindy Sue underneath the mistletoe. It had been a special night and fate had found us.

By the time we reached my house, and everyone jumped back in the sleigh for their ride back north, I said my goodbyes. Tired and spent like all of us, Twitter and Tex cuddled like puppies and Email propped his head against the empty Santa bag and all three were soon sawing logs.

Santa took a moment to light his pipe taking in several heavy drawls, he offered me a toke. "Home grown up north, nothing like it." I declined. "Oh, please do send my regards to Markus," Santa said and almost forgot. He handed me a book. "Animal Farm by George Orwell. Thought you might like it wanting to be a writer and all. "It's about farm animals I think. All the rave up north. We get things a little earlier then you folks down here. Skimmed through it, cracked me up when he wrote. "All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others." Lot of grown up folks thinks that way. Trying time's I tell ya. Maybe there's money in coal. You take care of yourself."

With that he winked at me and turned to his reindeer.

"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer, and Vixen!  
"On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Dunder and Blixem!

"Oh and I almost forgot silly me. On Rudolf!"

"To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!  
"Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

I watched as Santa and his sleigh faded away and the moon started to make its journey back to slumber and the dawn of day cracked above the horizon. I was happy everything had worked out. Right before I crawled in the window I watched as the sun like dew in the morning melted the magic chimney not to one brick, but dust. I swept the residue up and put it in an urn for safe keeping.

As the tradition of Christmas was preserved that night, so to was the hallways of the brick foundry. The guardians, (taking in the goodwill for the elf's actions) did penalize them for stepping a little out of bounce. (As Tex described the situation.).

No internet for two months. The punishment devastated Twitter. Tex was fine without it, he had alternatives that Twitter didn't have. I thought it sounded like they got off pretty easy considering 'galactic law,' for which I knew nothing about. But it surely did sound important. Later, when Santa finally released internet to us one Christmas through that guy name Al Gore, I was to find out how harsh it really was.

With Slumps mysterious disappearance and nobody looking for him, Markus now became a majority stake owner of the company with full control. Noodles reunited with his thirty-year silver pin, never seen thirty- one.

Markus distributed his share of stocks equally amongst all the workers. Then made the president's position a four-year term voted by in by each employee. Paw with the approval of all and endorsed by Markus's rekindled friendship found himself president the first and many terms to come. Those in power and high salaries called it communism which seemed to be a popular theme floating around Washington's wealthy dignitaries, others less political about it, socialism, and the majority working class that benefited, justice.

For Markus, I remember the day well. It was hot, a sizzling summer day on the fourth of July. Day by day he had relinquished his position, and duties to me. The day before the holiday he had made a rather odd request to help him move the remaining belongings from his office.

The next day, when I showed up everything had already been moved. The room as bare as an abandoned shack in the woods. Markus was nowhere in sight and on the desk sat his copy of Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau. A bookmarker stuck out. I parted the book to its opening and chuckled seeing an abbreviated 'Will and Testament' entrusting ownership to his prized cats, Himmie and Baxter, the boy kitty. I glanced at the page. He had circled a quote." _If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them."_

He added a postscript: Couple of old friends stopped by to square up a debt. Tex and Twitter. Took the last silver tree from the office. That Twitter sure is a funny fella. Guess you and Santa have the only Slump collectables. Really had meant to say a proper goodbye. I will miss you dearly. Had a date I couldn't pass on. Not often you get a second chance at love. (Put that in your book if you ever write it.) Take care my friend. Markus Russo Darin.

PS: "Almost forgot my Christmas gift, it's now in your hands." It was a scroll of sorts, a contract with the boys up north. Lifetime maintenance for the Xbox1 brick, or should I say Xbox2, which would become Xbox3, Xbox 4, ... Xbox.... will you get the point. The contract monies nearly knocked me off my feet, never realized that many zeroes could follow a number. The brickyards would never need to worry about closing again.

I smiled, happy he had reunited with Renata. I couldn't imagine being away from my soulmate for a minute, let alone a lifetime. And that my fine family and friends, is the way it is.

I reflected on my story for a moment, most eyes were upon the silver tree. I motioned Maw to join me up front. I kissed her gently and requested I be given the first chance to give my gift. I handed her a gift wrapped present. She gently gave me a playful poke to the ribs. "You fool we haven't exchanged gifts since the first Christmas. I've got nothing for you."

My eyes almost teared up hearing that. "No, my precious snow angel. You have given me far more gifts in our journey together then I could have even imagined giving you. Life is change and as my soul prepares itself for the next change. I hope this gift immortalizes a special memory to withstand the grains of time, and becomes a cherished memory to all that touch it, and especially you.

She unwrapped the present, and tears followed. She held it up. Christmas Shadow's, a Christmas Tale by Christian Steckell. "Fate be the Hunter ... it had found me, us," I said to her. I was now not only a soulmate to the one I loved but a writer from the brickyards as well. And in all of it I had come to know a valuable lesson. A lesson about life.

Markus was right. You don't just put together a brick anymore then you just write. Or live life for all that matters. You must see the true essence and your effect in everything you touch. The labor of life, regardless of your path or calling, is equally intensive, gut wrenching at times but just as rewarding when you get it right. Strive to be a maestro of alchemy, be it sand and clay, or emotions and insights, with everything and everybody you touch. And little by little, a little of this, little of that, and one brick becomes two, becomes three, and soon builds a bridge or road to help another travel. So does the writer's story as one word becomes two, becomes three, until you have built a bridge or road where the mind of the reader can travel. And maybe, just maybe, if you got it right, have helped another build their own brick.

If I have done as much in touching you, I have indeed learned from my visit with Markus. Merry Christmas to all."

Emil Crise.
