WHO Thom Summer, with special guests Brigitte, Guillermo de la Cruz and family, Chainsaw the raven, and Kate Danvers (NOTE: all characters are merely shades/likenesses of their played self taken with permission from their players for the purpose of this nonsense)
WHERE Serendipity Hills •
WHEN Two o'clock in the morning, Christmas Day! (roll with the funky timeline, guys)
A Serendipity Hills Christmas Carol: PART THREE.
WARNINGS: Tamales, raw diets, and a nearly-extinct raven species
This time when the clock struck two, Thom was ready. He was already standing, alert, peering into the darkened corners of his home where he was certain some sort of ghost might spring forth. As soon as the clock's chimes rang out, he heard an answering clatter in the kitchen - as if someone within it was preparing a great feast.
Hurrying toward it, Thom was shocked to see that his meager kitchen had been transformed: great rows of pies were nestled on every available surface. A gorgeously cooked turkey rested by the oven. Aromas of sage, apples, and cinnamon each vied for attention. And positioned in the middle of it was a vaguely-familiar looking woman with red hair, wielding what looked like some kind of tech-y weapon.
“Merry Christmas, Thom!” she said with a beaming smile, setting her hammer (flail? whatever) thing down with a solid crunch on the floor. Something sparked. The whole picture inspired a bit of fear and awe in Thom, who backed up a little at the woman’s enthusiasm.
“Are you the second spirit?” he asked.
“I am!” she confirmed. “The Ghost of Christmas Present. My name is Brigitte. I am here to show you things as they currently are - things that you could change, if you had a notion to… if you saw past your own nose, that is.”
“I already don’t like you,” Thom observed.
“Too bad, Thom!” she said brightly, and grabbed his wrist. “Come! Let’s see what is happening in Serendipity Hills this magical Christmas night!”
But there was nothing particularly magical about the place that appeared in Thom’s vision as soon as the spinning ceased: it was a small apartment, dark and somehow crooked. The living room and the kitchen were more-or-less the same room; a tiny, shedding tree leaned in the corner. The space was clean, but cluttered; everything looked about five years too old to be tidy.
“Why did you take me to a place that smells like carnitas and old people?” Thom asked, annoyed.
Brigitte gestured to the doorway as four people entered the kitchen, three of them carrying grocery bags.
“That’s Guillermo!” Thom peered at his employee, frowning. “This isn’t… this can’t be where he lives. It’s shitty as hell!”
“Guillermo does live here,” Brigitte said, “as do his two sisters, and his ailing mother. Watch, as they prepare their Christmas feast.”
The “feast” in question consisted of a tiny turkey - “looks like a pigeon”, Thom observed - and some slightly-less familiar sights: the ingredients needed for tamales.
“Oh Guillermo,” said one of his sisters, “this will be the best Christmas ever!”
Guilermo smiled, expertly making some kind of delicious-smelling red sauce on the stove. The pot he used may have been dingy, but the scent coming from it was heavenly: it smelled of caramelized onions and chile, and of a hundred different spices Thom couldn’t identify other than “yum”. “I’m just glad I have tomorrow off,” Guillermo said, “so I can spend it with family.”
“We’re so happy to have you,” said the older woman, who must have been Guillermo’s mother. She looked ill, her skin papery and grey, and she sat down at the kitchen table rather than help with the cooking as if the mere journey to the kitchen exhausted her.
“Wait, did you almost not get Christmas off?” asked one of the sisters.
Guillermo stirred a bit more self-consciously. “No, no… he gave me tomorrow off. After a… well… altercation.”
His sister rolled her eyes. “Your boss is the worst.”
“I’m Thom Summer, and I hate joy!” cried the other sister.
“I’m Thom Summer, and I have a face like a lemon!” cried the other.
“Hey,” objected Guillermo, and Thom had to smile at his employee defending him so loyally. “I’ll have you know that Thom has a face like a thumb that’s been underwater a while.”
“Damn,” said Thom, disappointed.
“Can you blame him?” piped up Brigitte. “You barely gave him tomorrow off. And he didn’t even tell them that you weren’t going to pay him the holiday, so they don't even know how much that you suck.”
Thom hated to admit it, but it looked like Guillermo could have really used the holiday pay. And more pay on top of that. He could barely believe it: four adults in one tiny apartment? And Guillermo’s mother looked really sick, too.
“Maybe…” he said, “maybe I could make it up to him.”
But his worries were interrupted by a strange tapping on the kitchen window. Guillermo lit up. “Oh!” he said, his face creasing in relief. “Look! Tiny Chainsaw’s here!”
“Tiny Chainsaw!” cried the sisters, and walked over to see him.
Tiny Chainsaw was a beautiful sleek raven that hopped on the ledge as soon as Guillermo opened the window. “Hello,” he said gently, and scattered a handful of seed for the bird. “It’s not much, but it’s what we’ve got.”
“Since when did Guillermo become a Disney princess?” Thom demanded.
"Do you like Christmas, Tiny Chainsaw?" Guillermo asked the bird.
"SQUAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWK", it replied.
"Such merry, true words from such an unfortunate creature!" said one of the sisters.
“The bird is one of Guillermo's few comforts,” Brigitte said, her tone cold. “She’s a gorgeous creature, isn’t she?”
Thom had to admit that the bird was lovely, and she was behaving so intelligently. She even let one of Guillermo’s sisters pet her wing gently. “That’s a Serendipity Hills raven, isn’t it?” he said, squinting at the bird. “I thought they were extinct.”
“Very nearly,” Brigitte said. “Tiny Chainsaw is one of the last of that species in existence. She must be cherished - she’s very special.”
“Yes,” Thom murmured, as Tiny Chainsaw nipped at Guillermo’s earlobe with obvious affection. “I can see that.”
“Say,” Brigitte said, “didn’t you refuse to donate to the SH Wildlife fund the last few years?”
Thom bit his lower lip. "Well..."
"Didn't you say that one bird was as good as another?"
"Well..."
"Didn't you say you were fine if Tiny Chainsaw's entire species went extinct, because then there'd be fewer things crapping on your Benz?"
“Yes, fucking fine, I said all that. I hate people who come to my door asking for money,” Thom muttered, but he felt ashamed. He had plenty. Why hadn’t he shared it with Guillermo? Even with the wildlife that made Serendipity Hills so unique? “But… I am sorry I neglected to give a little. I might have sent it in with a card or something. Donated online.”
He watched the little family as they let Chainsaw back outside. The bird flew off into the night. Turning back to Brigitte, he felt a sense of anxiety: “It’s not too late, is it spirit? I can help them?”
Brigitte shrugged, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
“Spirit,” Thom insisted, “if you’re showing me the present, that means that this can be averted… improved, even. Right?”
“Come, Thom,” said Brigitte, and gestured. “We have more to see this cold December night.”
Disappointedly, he glanced once more at the sad family and reached for her hand, already prepared for the strange dizzying travel. When the world righted beneath his feet, he squinted in the cold weather, recognizing the exterior of the bakery where Kate worked.
He had been inside, but it’d been a few years. He hadn’t gone once after the break up; she'd moved away for a while, and he thought that the bakery itself had changed hands once or twice. Kate was cleaning up the counter, overseeing some kind of... renovation? Improvement? They seemed to still be baking things, though, perhaps for Christmas parties. Thom wasn't sure. Kate moved over to the door to turn the sign to “closed”. Slowly, she pulled a single cupcake out of the glass case and set it aside.
“Oh Kate,” said her coworker, “No.”
“That’s my favorite kind of cupcake!” Thom said.
“NO,” repeated the coworker. “He’s such an ass.”
“I know, I know.” Kate frowned at the cupcake. “He’s an ass. But it’s Christmas, right?”
“Yes!” Thom agreed. “It’s Christmas! Give me the cupcake, Kate! I promise, I’ll do better! I don’t care if it’s in festive colors! It’ll just be so good to see you!”
Kate sighed, her mouth moving to the side of her face in thought. “Do you think it makes me an idiot to keep trying?”
“No,” said her coworker. “It makes you way too good for him. Has he ever like… even thanked you for your work?”
“I will now!” Thom protested. “Kate! I’ll thank you!”
“No…” Kate sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe… maybe you’re right.”
“She’s not right!” Thom screeched.
“Maybe I should just see this as the end of the old year," Kate continued. "The start of the new.”
“No!! Don’t!”
“Maybe I’ll even call Ryan. See if he’s still interested in going up to Maine after the holidays,” Kate said.
Thom ran over to her, and went right through her accidentally. Kate didn't react. “Not Ryan! He’s the fucking worst.”
“Whatever you decide, I have your back,” said Kate’s coworker, not without sympathy. “But you’ve got to stop holding out for someone who doesn’t deserve you, babe. It’s Christmas. If that Christmas magic doesn’t bring you good things, well, you go out and get the good things yourself.”
Kate nodded. Grabbed a little box for the cupcake. “I’m going to Ryan’s. He likes cupcakes.”
“NO!” yelled Thom as the scene dissolved. “Oh my god. Ryan’s a tool. He’s been eating exclusively raw food for like… the last year!” But Kate couldn’t hear him; he was already back in his bedroom, with Brigitte watching him solemnly. “Spirit!” he pleaded. “Please! Let me go back to them! Let me make this right!”
Brigitte gave a sad little smile. “I can’t do that, Thom. Your time with us Ghosts isn’t over. There’s one more.”
“The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come…” Thom murmured. “What are they like?”
“She’s kinda scary,” Brigitte admitted.
“Great.”
“But no scarier than your future if you don’t repent.” Brigitte shook her head, frowning. “I know this is hard to face, but Thom: you’re kind of a piece of crap.”
“I know, I know Brigitte.” And he did. How had he gotten to be so awful? Why had he gotten so obsessed with his counting house? What was even a counting house? He wasn’t sure. He knew he counted things there. But it didn’t matter. There was still time. “I’m ready,” he said. “I’m ready for the third Ghost!”
“I hope so,” Brigitte said, smiling softly as she slowly faded. “For your sake… and for the sake of everyone in Serendipity Hills.”