Title: The Gift of the Magi

Author: Tina
Character: John Biebe “Mystery, Alaska”
Rating : G
Disclaimer: The following story has been written with no intention of claiming
ownership or solicitation, nor does the author claim the movie character(s) as his/her
own. The movie character(s) have been borrowed solely out of a love of the particular
movie and is not intended for any other purpose but amusement and entertainment.

********************************

“Is there something I might assist you with, Miss?”

The question startled her and she jumped very slightly, placing one hand above her chest
as she gave a tiny chuckle. Momentarily she had drifted into her own imaginings,
forgetting that one of the sales clerks might notice her standing incredibly still before the
display, her attention riveted by what she saw so that her surroundings faded from
existence. Blushing, she wondered how long she had been there.

“I...” she stammered, afraid she appeared guilty when she had done nothing, but she was
self-conscious, especially since – although wearing her ‘Sunday best’ – she was shabbily
attired compared to most of the store’s patrons. In fact, she had simply hoped to examine
the item and then quickly withdraw before drawing attention, but now it was too late, and
it was necessary to immediately put on a brave face before she was suspected of some
wrongdoing. “I’m...I’m sorry....”

“Oh no, Miss – I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the clerk apologized, which made her feel
more comfortable. “I simply wanted to see if there is something for which you required
assistance?”

“Well I...” She glanced back toward the object, an unintentional smile coming to her lips.
“This...” and she pointed at it.

“Oh! You’ve been admiring...”

“Yes...Yes.”

“You have excellent tastes then, Miss,” the clerk beamed, but upon noticing the simple
gold band on the ring finger of her left hand he corrected himself with “Madam....There
is not a better one currently on the market and the recipient...your...brother?
Ummm...husband I assume...”

“Husband...yes.”

The salesman saw the glow in her eyes when she repeated the word and he immediately
began to calculate his commission. “Then your husband would be a most fortunate man
indeed to receive such a gift, particularly at Christmastime and what a wonderful way of
showing him how much you care by...”

She shook her head, not needing to hear the marketing details of the product for she was
very aware of them. “I wondered...sir...if there is a chance that the price might
be...lowered...or...well...would it possibly be on...on sale...on sale before Christmas?” She
was immediately aware of the chill that came between them.

“On...sale?” he snorted. “That is most unlikely, Madam...not an object of the uniqueness

like the...”

“I see.” She took one more look, feeling as though it was now as distant as the moon
itself. “Thank you....I’ll...I’ll think it over. Thank you for your time.”

“I need not remind Madam that tomorrow is Christmas Eve...”

“I’m very aware of that, sir.”

“...and taking into consideration that this is one of our more popular items this season, we
have extremely few remaining in our stock....Sir...Madam...may I be of assistance?” and
with his eyes now on what would be a more likely – and profitable sale – he hurried
away, now paying her no more attention than one might an ant.

Clearing her throat, her cheeks reddening, she carefully pulled on her gloves and
adjusting her scarf about her neck, made a hasty exit before anyone could see the tears
stinging her eyes.

*************************************************

Shivering in the cold, she took one final look at the display, seeing it now exhibited from
behind the glass of one of the storefront’s many windows...the sign with the price
mocking her as the amount pounded inside her skull. And for the millionth time since
first observing the object weeks before and deciding that it would still be the most perfect
gift, she mentally counted her savings and once more fell short.

Seven dollars and forty-three cents. That was what was currently put away in the little jar
she had carefully hidden. Seven dollars and forty-three cents in pennies, nickels, dimes
and fifty-cent pieces, each coin lovingly counted as the tiny savings increased toward this
one goal...but now feeling that it had come to an abrupt halt.

Her reverie was interrupted when a small group pressed her aside so they could have a
look, their ‘ooo’-ing and ‘ah’-ing piercing her heart, and she decided that perhaps now
was the time to make her way home at any rate. Staring into the window was not helping
anyway – it was only making her feel more miserable. Turning away from the sight, her
boots crunched over the half-inch of snow as she moved from the bustle of the congested
Main Street, away from the crowds of last-minute Christmas shoppers, away from the
numerous stores with their magnificent, tempting displays, past the fragrance of food
wares being cooked and already prepared for the approaching holiday. She briefly
paused, smiling at the most beautifully designed candies and cakes, wondering if she
might have put aside enough for a Christmas treat for her and her husband, but she
decided to wait. She could make a decision Christmas Eve...depending on what happened
between now and then regarding the gift.

And once more the gnawing began in her heart, spreading into her abdomen as the
intense heaviness returned, accompanied by seven dollars and forty-three cents pounding
into every inch of her consciousness. It did not cease during the mile walk home...

A half-hour later she was climbing the front steps to the four story brownstone, carefully
maneuvering the few tiny frozen crystals seemingly fused into the concrete landing.
Stomping the snowy remnants off her leather footwear – which was beginning to show
signs of the heavy use – she stepped into the warmth of the foyer, the sudden temperature
change caressing her the second she entered. Almost immediately she felt the chill leave
her cheeks, and taking a few seconds to catch her breath, she waited long enough to greet
the landlady as the latter stepped out of her own lodgings, a small wicker basket on her
left arm.
“And a very good evening to you too, my dear.”

“Good evening Mrs. Henry. You’re well?” She was quite fond of the lady, whom often
reminded her of her late grandmother.

“A bit of stiffness in the joints, but I put that down to old age, so no need complaining.”
Her tenant returned her smile and laugh. “I saw your handsome husband a little while ago
so he’s made it home before you. He will be waiting for you now.”

John’s home already? Involuntarily she blushed the prettiest crimson shade, a reminder
that the couple was still in their newlywed phase. “You just saw him then?”

“He arrived and saw I was about to clean the snow away from the door and front walk,
and bless his heart, he did it for me.” So that explained why the entry had been rid of
obstructions, unlike most of the neighboring pavement. “And I was going to give you
both some of the bread I’ve been baking today, so he told me that was payment enough in
exchange. Such a good man. You are very fortunate to have him. Very fortunate indeed.”

“I think so too, Mrs. Henry.” Which is why I want to give him...but that thought was
banished to the back of her mind as she again wished the older woman well, then began
the ascent to the top floor.

The upper level contained two residences. The largest was currently vacant as the former
residents – a family of six -- had recently moved, therefore the Biebes, who lived in the
adjacent furnished flat at $8.00 per week, felt as though they had some real privacy for
the first time in their six months of living there. They knew it would not last, not when
apartments that size were prime on the market, but for now they would enjoy the
tranquility of what they jokingly called ‘the penthouse,’ (a word they had come across
during their reading of a translation of Tolstoy) especially as they went through their first
holidays as a married couple.

Exhaling in what her mother would have called a most unladylike fashion, she fumbled
the key as it went into the lock, causing more noise than usual, and as the door opened,
she saw a familiar, broad shouldered figure beginning to stand up as he....Well, she was
unsure what he was doing as most of her view was blocked, but when he turned to her
and smiled, whatever else was in her thoughts vanished as she allowed herself to be lost
in those concerned blue-green eyes.

“Tina...sweetheart...I was getting worried about you.” He was across the floor in several
long strides, sweeping her into his arms as he lifted her off the floor.

“I’m sorry....I...I had a stop to make and...I...I lost track of the time and...I’m sorry...” she
repeated, knowing there was no real need for an apology. Her words were beginning to
trail off as John’s mouth captured hers, blessedly ending any further explanation on her
part, although she felt the need to whisper a dreamy “I’m sorry” when they parted.
“No...I...It’s only that it gets dark so early and I was hoping you didn’t have to be out too
much longer.”

“Well, Madame did keep us a little later than usual,” she told him, finally removing the
scarf from around her head as she tugged off the woolen gloves, “but it’s the Christmas
and New Year’s rush and we had a few minor alterations to complete from the fittings
since we only work the half-day tomorrow.” She remembered all the expensive fabrics
she had seen these last months, alongside the most beautiful laces and jeweled
adornments gone to create the fashionable gowns for the winter social season, as well as
one well-publicized wedding that would keep the modiste’s name on the society page for
yet another year. One might – depending on the size of your city or town – be able to
shop Montgomery Ward or Sears and Roebuck, either in the department store itself or by
mail-order catalog. Still there was nothing more personal than having a gown tailored for
you by the famous Madame d’Armistead. “But...it’s a privilege to work for her,
John...you know that,” Tina continued. “There’s not another dressmaker with her
reputation in this whole town.”

“I know darlin’, I know....It’s only...I wish you didn’t have to work at all but...” He saw
her open her mouth to object. “...but I know you want the experience.” They hoped one
day to move elsewhere and if the day came and the savings were as they planned, Tina
would be able to open that little dress shop she had dreamt of for so long.

“And there have been others she’s dismissed and she kept me on.”

“Because she knows what a wonderful pupil you are,” Biebe admitted, then she saw him
raise an eyebrow, an action that made his wife wonder what he was thinking until he said
aloud, “And I’m thinking she’s noticing your abilities a good deal more than we
realized.”

Tina swallowed the small lump forming in her throat. “Why?”

“Well...you’re wearing your nicest dress, darlin’. She only has you do that when you’re
out on the sales floor with her...right?”

Her brown eyes sparkled in reply. Madame did have her assisting directly with the
clientele, a duty that was a great honor in the shop and one that the woman never trusted
to anyone except on rare occasions. It also gave her the opportunity to wear her best
outfit, something that made her feel more confident when she strolled into that
department store a short time before, but also had her wishing that the money in her
pockets equaled the assurance she wished to exhibit.

“Yes...and I was...it was...I’m happy she did....So...” She eased out of his arms, hoping to
change the subject as she busied herself by the stove. “...how was your day?” she casually
began, but then realizing that there was something even more crucial to ask she added:
“And what about your schedule? Will you have to work tomorrow evening?” She had
prayed that with him having been a deputy for the last few years, that might render him
some seniority when it came to these rare holidays.

John shook his head. “Nope. Oh...that’s from Mrs. Henry. Payment for me shoveling the
walk.”

Tina nodded as she replaced the white towel around the golden brown loaf of bread. That
should last them for several meals and she might even get out a jar of her homemade jam
to accompany it. “I saw her as I was coming in. That was so sweet of you to do that. But
you said, no, you won’t have to work?”

“I don’t have to work...I have Christmas Eve off. They posted the schedules this
afternoon and I’ll have a short duty part of tomorrow – have to leave about dawn – but
then...” He smiled broadly. “The late afternoon and evening is ours.”

“Oh John...John that’s wonderful!”

“Unfortunately...”

“Oh no.”

“No, no...it’s actually not bad sweetheart. I have Christmas Eve off and I’ll have to go on
duty fairly late Christmas morning and work a twelve hour shift, but considering I was
off part of Thanksgiving it was a fair deal. None of the others have children either, so I
think the Sheriff was at least trying to make sure the married guys had Christmas Eve to
spend with their wives, and the couple that are unmarried volunteered to help us out.”

“That was nice of them.”

“So...wouldn’t you rather have me at home on Christmas Eve anyway?”

“Yes, yes of course I would and...well...I’ll go ahead and plan on us having our Christmas
dinner tomorrow...if you don’t mind eating it a day early. I was going to fetch the turkey
from the shop before I go to work so Mrs. Henry could start it for me while I’m at
Madame d’Armistead, so this would be perfect.”

“Mmm...made me think. Might be a chance for us to get out that bottle of wine we’ve
been saving from the wedding. We haven’t used it, right?”

“It should still be on the shelf,” she commented as she busied herself, continuing to push
aside the nagging problem of the gift while reorganizing her day in her mind. “Remember
we were keeping it for a special day. So is this Christmas Eve going to be our special day
then?”

John shrugged. “I was thinking...I don’t know...might be nice I guess...with it being our
first as a married couple.” He walked up behind her, gently easing his large hands onto
either side of her waist, noticing her shiver when he nuzzled the right side of her neck.
“Sometimes...Sometimes I don’t know why you married me anyway. You had the pick of
any....I’m just lucky, that’s all.”

She sighed, briefly closing her eyes as she fought back the tears threatening to reveal all
her plans. “You’re...You’re the only one I ever wanted,” she confessed, hoping the
emotion she felt didn’t spill out. They were so attuned to one another’s feelings that she
momentarily worried he would sense her frustration. “I knew that the moment I saw you:
a deputy sheriff and on the hockey team too.”

“Oh right...the uniforms,” he chuckled.

Tina nodded, glad that he was sounding more amused and giving her the opportunity to
calm herself as she remembered that instant when her family – newly moved -- had
attended their first hometown hockey game and she had seen John Biebe for the first
time. It was only asking some of her girlfriends that garnered the fact that he was also
working in the sheriff’s office...and the intervention of her brother that gave them a
proper introduction. Considering all the other young women around – women who had
been born and bred there, women she felt prettier – she was surprised she had won his
eye as quickly as she did.

He might tease that she fell in love with his uniforms. He told her that the moment the
team was taking a water break during their game, he was glancing around the bleachers
the way he always did, and saw her beautiful auburn hair tumbling past her shoulders and
out from under that little rabbit fur hat....She was turned slightly, laughing with someone
beside her....She faced his direction – and he was thunderstruck. Tina, he knew, had felt it
too, from the expression in her eyes, the way she had quickly looked away and –
unknowing to him – gripped her hands inside the white muff. They had not spoken then
or immediately afterwards, but it was not long before they met, then were courting and a
year later on her birthday, John had asked her father’s permission to propose to her. It
seemed such a long time ago although it was not, and she had brought a nice although
tiny dowry with her, but it was still hard managing a first year of marriage. They were
certain it would improve with time, but things were such a struggle here in the
beginning....

Seven dollars and forty-three cents.

“The last of the soup tonight, eh?” he asked, taking a deep whiff of what was warming on
the stove. It would be the third day this week they had eaten vegetable soup.

“The last of the soup. The bread will go good with it....So...why don’t you go clean up
and I’ll get things on the table.”

“See?” he joked as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and allowed himself a second to run
his fingers through the length of her hair, pulled back but flowing loosely down her back.
“We sacrifice a little and get turkey with all the trimmings come Christmas. Couldn’t ask
for anything more, am I right?”

“Couldn’t ask for anything more.”

****************************************************

“I could lend you the rest of what you need, my dear. I offered you that before you
know.”

Tina thanked her landlady as the older woman placed a delicate white teacup in front of
her. It was still early on Christmas Eve. Tina had picked up the fresh turkey at the poultry
shop and brought it back so it could be seasoned and its’ day of roasting started. The few
hours at Madame’s store had concluded and they would not reopen until the day after
Christmas. So now she was at home again, sitting in Mrs. Henry’s parlor as they shared a
bit of tea (“Real English tea. How often do we see that”), and as the chitchat continued
and the subject of gift-giving was mentioned, the problem concerning the elusive present
for John resurfaced again for it was something they had discussed in the past.

“No...I couldn’t ma’am, I couldn’t. It’s far too much and I’d have no idea when I could
repay you.”

“Then consider it a gift.”

Tina shook her head again as she sipped the warm drink. “I...No...I can’t. I appreciate...I
appreciate your kindness...and...and everything you’ve done for John and me since we
moved here...but...no...no...thank you, but no.”

“Then what will you do? I know it is the one thing you’ve had in mind for your husband.
You’ve been discussing it for weeks and weeks.”

“Yes...”

“And the department store still has them?”

“They did when I passed by there on the way home from Madame’s – there were three in
the display window just as before, but with it being Christmas Eve, I...I have no idea how
much longer...Even if I domanage the remainder there’s no guarantee that they’ll be in
stock when I return.”

“And you won’t accept it from me? As a loan? No interest?” She hated seeing her young
tenant so in stress.

“I...no...I can’t, but thank you. It’s my own fault for not scrimping and saving enough
and...”
“Bah! All you’ve done is scrimp and save, my dear. You haven’t purchased anything new
for yourself outside food and the essentials.” The woman knew that Madame
d’Armistead had kept on Tina as she was one of her best employees, but the position did
not pay a good deal for it was an apprenticeship after all. And John Biebe was a deputy
sheriff, not the sheriff himself and unlike the rumors of some in larger cities with big
police departments, he would not have taken a bribe for all the jewels in the Orient. Being
on the hockey team did not pay at all. It was a pastime he loved...had loved his entire life.
So these two together with their already meager salaries had seen that slashed somewhat
more, so that luxuries such as the books they enjoyed or even going to the picture shows
that were becoming so popular grew non-existent until they could get more firmly on
their feet.

“I...I haven’t needed anything.” She would make due with her wardrobe a few more
seasons, even if the dresses were nice but outdated. Funny that she assisted in creating
such magnificent gowns and had not owned a new one herself in Heaven only knew
when. Even her lovely wedding gown had been an heirloom, reworked to look slightly
more fashionable, but had belonged to her mother, grandmother and great-grandmother.

“And you sit down here with me and tell me how you’ve budgeted, and you’re so very
careful and you still manage to give you and your husband such a nice home. And clean!
Some young women don’t know how to keep such a clean home....Tina...I know how
difficult this has been. It always is for the first few years of marriage.”

“I know...but...” She bit her bottom lip. “It’s so perfect for him. He hasn’t asked for
anything...”

“Neither have you from what you’ve said.”

Tina exhaled as she pushed a fallen curl away from her face. It was rare for her to
become upset in front of anyone for fear of appearing weaker than she actually was, but
this had grated on her nerves for so long. John might repeat over and over that he did not
expect a Christmas gift, however she could not imagine not giving him one, not when
they had gone through so much, sacrificed so much and she felt the desire to thank him
for all he had done...for simply loving her....She had been so distracted that only the last
of Mrs. Henry words penetrated the fog in her mind.

“...a suggestion.”

“I’m sorry ma’am....What was that?”

“I...” The landlady hesitated, uncertain whether to repeat her words. “I might have
a...well...a suggestion. It’s rather drastic though and...”

“What is it?” Tina was eager to hear anything that might get her out of the predicament.
 ************************************************

Sitting near the window, watching one person, then two, or a small group of children or a
laughing couple rushing along the sidewalk, Tina took another glance at the small clock –
a wedding gift – on the mantlepiece and sighing, began to pace the floor again. Rubbing
at her temples, she finally collapsed on the shabby sofa and buried her face in her hands.
She had been like this for the last half-hour and time was passing, passing all too quickly.

But if a woman have long hair, it is a glory for her: for her hair is given her for a
covering the Bible said, but was there not a good chance the Lord would understand her
dilemma and why this was so important to her? And in one quick move, she removed the
simple plain hair stick holding the chignon into place and felt the massive natural curls
fall past her shoulders and past her waist. She took several nervous steps to the window
so that she could examine it more carefully, but there was really no need, not when she
had known it so well all her life. It was the same length it had been the afternoon John
first saw her in the stands, the same brilliant auburn lustrous in the bright winter
sunlight...healthy, magnificent tresses like those of a fairy tale heroine. However hers was
real...not long enough to be tossed out a window for a Prince Charming to climb into a
tower, but nearly enveloping her body, and the tears sprung up again as she thought of the
many nights when John had fingered or brushed it with the greatest care, as if it was as
much a part of him as it was of her.

Your hair...your eyes...oh and then darlin’...and then...your smile he often told her about
his first glimpse of her. He had never believed in love at first sight he said...until he saw
her.

She tenderly twisted the gold band upon her left hand, her fingertips stroking the tiny
engravings and the sudden exclamation of “That’s it!” broke the quiet before she rushed
to the hiding place for her savings. Spilling the contents into her purse, Tina grabbed up
her scarf and coat as she hurried past the stand and out the door. She rushed down the
stairs so quickly that she barely spoke as she ran past Mrs. Henry who was coming from
her own apartment, seeing only the flash of a familiar figure.

After fifteen minutes of maneuvering small patches of ice and pavement both poorly
shoveled and completely clear, Tina whispered a silent prayer when she saw that the
business was still open, and taking yet another deep breath to gain her composure, she
calmly entered the door over which hung the sign MNE. SOFRONIE. HAIR GOODS
OF ALL KINDS. And there was Mne. Sofronie – standing in the middle of the
salesroom: petite, thin, no trace of the often understanding smile she saw from Madame
d’Armistead. No Mne. Sofronie was complete business, quite obvious from the way she
smugly scanned Tina’s curvaceous figure.

“Will you buy my hair?” Tina asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

"I buy hair," Sofronie condescendingly said. "Good, high quality hair. Take yer scarf off
and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Tina did as commanded, immediately seeing the wide eyed gaze and then – on turning
her back – hearing the gasp and a ‘Mon Dieu.’ She felt it being lifted, heard another ‘Mon
Dieu’ and then a dour announcement of “Thirty dollars.”

That much? “Then do it please...” Do it before I change my mind and have nothing to
give him.

And the next two hours quickly passed, the first spent watching what she had cherished
for so long carefully disappear from her head and then into a box where it would be made
into an elaborate wig (or two) after the holidays. The money now in her eager hands, Tina
ran from the claustrophobia of Solfronie’s, followed the familiar path to the department
store she walked by each day, and with her head held high (albeit the top of it hidden
underneath the scarf), walked into the crowded sporting goods division and waited for a
clerk to notice her.

“Is there something I may assist you with, Miss?”

“Yes.” She pointed at the item which was the centerpiece of the floor. “Those...I want
those...for my husband...” she added, smiling lovingly, “and I’m certain you have them in
the size I need for I’ve seen the sign in the window display.”

“It is one of the few sizes we have remaining...Madam,” he grinned on seeing her
wedding band, not even realizing that Tina was the young woman he had snubbed only
the day before. So many customers, it was difficult to recall them all and once he learned
she was broke, she had been immediately forgotten. “Madam does have excellent
tastes...most excellent tastes...and your husband...” he continued, hurrying about to find
the package containing the precious object, “will be very fortunate to receive one of the
most wanted gifts of the season. And at $30.00, they are a veritable steal.”

Tina did not require such promotions. She already knew how dear it was, which was why
it would be perfect for John...and would cost the exact amount she had been given for her
hair. Someone was watching out for her.

“He has been playing hockey long?” The small talk went on.

“For...For thirteen years. He’s never missed a game.”

“Well...he will definitely be noticed in these, Madam....Now...will you be requiring gift

wrapping?”

That was not needed and when Tina returned home her arms were loaded with bags and
packages for she had a little left over (she didn’t spend it all but felt they deserved a treat
or two), and her heart light, she decided to make this an even more special first Christmas
as a married couple. So there had been several more stops before arriving back
home...and Mrs. Henry’s look of shock when her tenant’s scarf slipped away from the
remnants of her hair.

“Now what’s done is done,” Tina assured her. She supposed the woman had never
expected her to do it after all. “But it does look a fright and I’m wondering what I might
do to make it...oh...a little better appearing when John gets home. It won’t be long now.”

“Well...I have a curling iron if that might help.” Mrs. Henry seemed close to tears.

Nearly an hour later, all was ready for John’s arrival. Dinner would be done in a little
while, the turkey – the size of a plump chicken – beginning to take on a golden sheen; all
the trimmings slow cooking in their pots. But most importantly, she had spent nearly
forty minutes in front of the mirror, until now, the once long hair was now a slew of small
bouncy reddish curls.

If John doesn’t kill me – before he takes a second look at me – he’ll say I look like a
Coney Island chorus girl, like the ones we’ve seen in the moving pictures. But what could
I do? What could I do when I know what that gift will mean to him? She stepped back,
taking a deep breath as she pinched her cheeks and smoothed her dress under her apron,
hoping to look her best. “But just in case.” She grabbed up her nicest scarf, one that
would match her gown, and began to tie it so that it draped her head and then fell down
the back of her neck. “I’ll show him later...after he’s seen his gift.”

Her timing was impeccable for moments later she heard the key in the lock, and giving
herself one final look and hoping she did not appear overly nervous, the front door
opened and John stepped in, brushing a few snowflakes off his overcoat. The second he
saw Tina he smiled broadly, and he was even more delighted when she threw herself into
his embrace, enjoying the press of her body against his as he raised her off her feet.

“Merry Christmas my sweet girl,” he whispered in her ear.

“Merry Christmas love....” Then – as if to assure herself that it would be one – she
repeated “Merry Christmas.”

***************************************

“You start feeding me like this and the guys are going to say I’m putting on weight.”

Tina laughed as she returned to her spot on the plain rug that was before the fireplace,
placing a dish of treats between them. Hors d’oeuvres was the fancier name. For the
Biebes, they were something special, something they had not enjoyed since the lovely
wedding dinner given by the bride’s parents. There was not a lot, just enough for the
couple, barely enough, but the tiny bites of bread with shaved salmon and little prettily
carved vegetables were definitely savored.
“I couldn’t resist. I thought ‘Why not splurge...just a little? After all, it’s Christmas.
We’ve been so good. Besides...if they start to tease you they’ll have to take that up with
me. I have a right to feed my husband well and you...” She gave him a gentle pat on his
stomach, proving the point she intended to make. “...you are in wonderful condition.
They seem to forget that you play hockey. It’s not as if you’re waddling over the ice.”

Leaning over, John gave her a peck on the cheek. “My biggest defender....So...” He
glanced around the room, thinking how Tina had transformed it since that morning.
Flowers...fragrant candles....And the little snacks before dinner....Some cheese and fresh
fruit for afterwards, along with some decorative holiday cookies and those small cakes
known as petit fours. Again, not a lot and barely enough for two, but it made the occasion
even more special.

“Well dinner smells wonderful darlin’. I can’t see what you have up your sleeve next.”
Tina paused in mid-bite, swallowing as she realized this might be the perfect time....

“John...I....” She stopped, finishing the appetizer as she sought the right words.

“Tina? What’s wrong sweetheart?”

“I...Well...I was thinking...” No...don’t think...just do it. “Well...I...I...I have something...”

“You have...something?” He was both playful and curious.

“I...Yes!” and she jumped to her feet, rushing to the spot that had once been the hiding
place for her savings. Upon returning to her spot on the floor, she heard him start with
‘What in the...’ but he never finished as she handed him a large, white rectangular box
and – blushing – lovingly said, “Merry Christmas John!”

“Merry...? Tina...what in the...Is this for me?”

“Of course it’s for you. Who else would it be for? Now Merry Christmas my love and
open it. Open it quick!”

“You’re like a little kid on Christmas morning yourself,” he teased as she continued to
smile and laugh, clapping her hands together in delight, and he now removed the cover to
look inside...and she saw the stunned expression on his face.

“I can’t help it but...Merry Christmas again, John!” She watched as he reached inside the
box, touching the contents as if disbelieving his eyes. “Well...what do you think?”

“You...You got these...for me? I mean...Tina...Tina...they’re...they’re

beautiful...but...I...I...How?”
“Don’t worry about the ‘how,’ just...just know they’re...I so wanted you to have them.
I’ve been keeping my eyes on them since the department store put them on display
months ago, but the second I saw them I thought That’s it. They’re perfect and I’ve had
them in my sights ever since.”

“But...these are the best hockey skates on the market.” And one of the most expensive. His
voice remained incredulous. Right now the black material and the blades were polished to
such a high sheen that they glowed almost more than gold; the laces were jet black – no
fading at all, and what struck him most, besides the polish and high quality was that fresh
odor indicating these were brand new, virgin. These were the ones he had seen,
fantasized about, wished he could afford, but then pushed them to the back of his mind,
knowing they were out of his reach. And yet Tina....

“I know...and it’s been so long since you had a new pair,” she was saying to him,
reaching over to push his reddish brown hair back from his face. “You’ve never
complained about the old ones but...but I knew it was past time you replaced them, and
you’ve sacrificed for so long. I thought the best player on the team deserved
something...well...something...special and I...”

“Oh darlin’.” He lifted one skate from the box, his eyes studying it with the greatest care,
but then he returned it as he slowly shook his head. “I...I wish you...” The box was
pushed a few inches aside as John took both her hands in his. “Tina...”

“What? What’s wrong? If they’re not the right size we can take them...”

“I was kicked off the team.”

Tina’s words caught in her throat as she stared at him. Now it was her turn to appear
surprised. “You...What?”

“I...I’m not on the team anymore sweetheart.”

“You’re not on the...But...But why? When?”

“Last Saturday...after the game....After you’d gone home....Scott called me in and...” He

sighed. “I haven’t scored a goal in I don’t know when...at least...that was the main reason
they gave.”

“But you’ve played your heart out each and every game!” Tina was both angry and upset,
neither emotion taking precedent and she seemed at a loss. “I...I know you haven’t scored
lately, but...I...you...John...you’re the heart of the team! You’re the captain. How could
they replace you like that, without even giving you the slightest warning?”

“Oh darlin’...” he sighed. “I guess...I think in a way...I don’t know. I just sort of...I didn’t
see it coming but...I swear part of me still did.”
“And...And it didn’t matter that with your experience...” He simply shook his head again,
which frustrated her even more and all her joy at the holiday was fading as quickly as the
smoke wafting from the candle flame. “Who...who did they replace you...?” He didn’t
even need to tell her. She knew the answer from his eyes. “The Weaks boy? But...He’s so
young...He’s so inexper....” But she never finished for there was no need. For each
question she asked, the answer was already there before her, and her eyes dropped to the
floor, the new hockey skates now propped haphazardly in the package. If they possessed
emotions she would have heard them mocking her, laughing at her stupidity.

“He’ll learn...the way I did.” Now it was Tina’s turn to shake her head, her feelings
negative towards the ones that had taken away something her husband loved so much.
“Yeah...Yeah he will...he will. And...well...the two of us had discussed this not long ago,
darlin’. We knew it’d happen someday.”

“Just not like this.” Don’t look up...not yet. The tears were running down to her trembling
lips and she couldn’t bear him seeing her this way. “I wanted you to leave
on your terms...when you were ready...not pushed off to the side like a forgotten toy....I
hope...” She quickly wiped her eyes before she looked at him. “I hope they realize in the
end what they’ve given up for...”

“Sweetheart...don’t be bitter” He gave a short laugh. “I’ve already done enough of that
for both of us.”

“Oh John...”

“So look...come the day after Christmas we’ll...well...we can take these back to...”

“No...just...just hold onto to them a little longer, okay? Don’t...” She brushed the back of
her hand over the skates and then stroked his bearded cheek. “Maybe they’ll realize...”

“I don’t really honestly think so,” he tried to say with a slight chuckle, wanting only to
raise her spirits, “but okay...just a couple of days...just to see. All right...look...is dinner
nearly ready?”

“Yes...nearly. The turkey’s out of the oven so it won’t dry out.”

“Then I have time then.”

“Time for....” She didn’t finish her sentence as John stood and hurried over to a corner of
the room, nearly opposite the spot she had used for her savings hideaway. Sitting on his
heels, he was there for what seemed forever, shifting one thing, then another, and when
he finally approached her, he was carrying a small box. Sitting in front of her again, he
held it towards her and softly told her “It’s time for me to say Merry Christmas to you
too.”
“What...What is it?” Silly question but the only thing she could stammer.

“Oh.” John feigned disappointment, then smiled broadly. “I was hoping that was pretty
obvious darlin’.”

“I mean...Oh...I know...that was...This...I...I wasn’t...I wasn’t expecting...”

“I know...and that’s what makes it even more special, eh? Now...” He pushed the box into
her hands. “Open it and Merry Christmas. I know you’ve already said this, but honestly,
the moment I saw these I knew they were for you.”

And when Tina removed the silver ribbon wound about and then the top and the pretty
tissue paper inside, her throat tightened as a sickness dropped into her stomach and she
nearly fumbled the box from her tight grip. For there was a sterling silver comb and brush
inside – a set she had admired once upon a time during a moment of fancy, but not just
those, for around them, revealed as – shivering – she unwrapped each one, were the
prettiest decorative combs and hair sticks, four in all. She knew from assisting Madame
in the accouterments for evening gowns, ball gowns and wedding gowns that the pieces
were of the best quality and expensive too; pieces she would admire with a childlike
quality, but never in her dreams did she believe John would...

For her....It is a glory for her: for her hair is given her for a covering.

“Oh my...” She could say nothing else, not as she examined the details of each: the
simplicity of the silver comb and brush; the uniqueness of the handmade combs – a six-
pronged one of maple and rosewood with a carnelian stone at its’ center, the other with
five-prongs and of pure rosewood with a red jewel off to one side. The hair sticks were
also hand-crafted: one in a hue of dusty rose; the second a blush-color but enhanced with
such ornamentation that it resembled one worn in the elaborate hair-dos Tina had seen in
the photographs of the exotic women of the East. Hair-dos she often tried with her little
pins but had never achieved to her satisfaction.

“Remember we saw them one day when we were coming back from one of the Saturday
games.” John’s voice sounded distant as her heart throbbed madly in her ears, drowning
out nearly everything. “You said something about how beautiful they were...and I kept
imagining them in your hair and...Well...” He smiled satisfactorily. “I just
thought...considering how you’ve sacrificed so much since we got married...haven’t
bought yourself a new thing...Look I figured if...if anyone was deserving...” Cupping her
chin, he lifted her head so that they were eye to eye. “It’s not much...”

“Not....John...they’re...” She paused, wondering if there were any more tears to cry. It had
been bad enough knowing he was off the team, but gazing upon his precious gift and
realizing there was nothing for them to adorn....
“So...do you want to try one of them out?” He was beaming, touched by her tears.

“I...We’re...We’re not going out John.” She sniffed, realizing there was no way for her to
hide her predicament any longer. “Let’s wait...” Wait for what? It was not as if her hair
would regrow overnight.

“At least,” and he reached into the box to gently take hold of the Oriental stick, “let’s see
how it’ll look. When I told the saleswoman the color of your hair she was pretty sure all
of them would be perfect, but...I didn’t need her to tell me that.” He laughed softly. “I
already knew it. So...”

Tina’s brown eyes drifted to one side, too frightened to see his reaction, and hesitantly
reached behind her to untie the knot holding the scarf in place. The soft piece of fabric
drifted to the floor...and there was a gasp...then nothing. She felt embarrassed and
ashamed and stupid – most of all stupid, and even as her lashes closed, her only way to
escape what she felt, she perceived the very second when familiar fingers stroked the
small curls, then traced an imaginary line along one cheek and along the side of her neck.

“For my skates.”

She nodded, still turned aside, although his words were a statement of fact, not a
question, and the announcement was not said condescendingly but with the greatest
understanding and compassion.

“Oh sweetheart...I guess...I guess we’ve both done a bit of sacrificing....I uh...I sold my
hockey gear after I was kicked off the team. Figured I won’t be needing these
anymore and I had the balance to pay on your gift so...It was worth it.” He moved closer,
opening his arms, feeling her body tremble as she collapsed against him, burying her face
in his chest while she wept. He cooed “Shhh...” which only made her cry harder, then
whispered “Your hair grows fast, darlin’. Always did...”

She looked up at him, looked up at him with the same smile, the same glow in her eyes
that had first won his heart and easing one arm about his neck, she drew him nearer so
she might press her lips upon his, wondering for the thousandth time what she did to
deserve him. It was all there in the eyes regarding her, as well as the touch of his hands
stroking her figure in the most tender manner.

When they parted, he gently laughed. “Now...why don’t you say we put away our
presents for now and have Christmas dinner before it gets cold?” John told her, giving her
a kiss on the top of the head. “Don’t know about you Tina...but I’m starving.”

“Yes...Yes...let’s.”

It was once written: The magi, as you know, were wise men – wonderfully wise men– who
brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas
presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege
of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful
chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the
greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said
that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such
as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

"Now, mind," cried Gretel, seeing her advantage, "I'll feel awful if you give up the skates.
I don't want them. I'm not so stingy as that; but I want YOU to have them, and then when
I get bigger, they'll do for me--oh--count the pieces, Hans. Did you ever see so many!"

Hans turned the money thoughtfully in his palm. Never in all his life had he longed so
intensely for a pair of skates, for he had known of the race and had fairly ached for a
chance to test his powers with the other children. He felt confident that with a good pair
of steel runners he could readily outdistance most of the boys on the canal. Then, too,
Gretel's argument was plausible. On the other hand, he knew that she, with her strong
but lithe little frame, needed but a week's practice on good runners to make her a better
skater than Rychie Korbes or even Katrinka Flack. As soon as this last thought flashed
upon him, his resolve was made. If Gretel would not have the jacket, she should have the
skates.

"No, Gretel," he answered at last, "I can wait. Someday I may have money enough saved
to buy a fine pair. You shall have these."

“What the hell’s the name of this story again?”

Tina jerked awake, running a hand over her face as she tried to remember where she was
and why she was there. Glancing around without sitting up, she saw that she was bundled
within several blankets and comforters, her head resting upon two plump pillows, and the
room was glowing a soft golden red from not only the fireplace light, but the many
lanterns on table tops and the mantlepiece.

The Hotel. She was in Crowe’s Hotel and then she recalled the reason. The
snowstorm...no power...Heat out everywhere, even at the Biebe home and the ranch
Mannie and NormaJean shared. Strike that: not a simple snowstorm but what was the
worst blizzard in recorded Point history. And here they all were – residents and the few
guests that arrived before the weather went bad – bunched together like the proverbial
sardines, feeling somewhat sorry for themselves and in a mass of complete confusion
until things had finally settled down and become organized. They’d gotten food and drink
in their stomachs...

Now even more returned to her thoughts. Shouting at Maximus about that stupid
replaceable chair (she did manage an apology a little earlier and was glad he accepted for
she’d felt awful)....Doing nothing to stop a few of the brothers when they nearly burned
those lovely books....

The books. Hando had been reading to them from some children’s book or two – boys’
adventures...girls’ tales. Oh! That’s right. She had loved hearing about Robin Hood since
the Errol Flynn movie was a great favorite of hers, and – she smiled, the covers still
wrapped over her head so no one could see her – she had forgotten so many of the stories
that had been favorites from childhood or become known to her only through movies.

But whose voice was that wondering about this latest story? Not Hando’s....

“It’s called...” Tina peeped out from her “tent” and saw Hando flipping back several
pages. “Hans Brinker...Or The Silver Skates. It’s an...abridged version. Thought the
Sheriff might enjoy it.” He saw John Biebe nod in acknowledgment.

The mystery voice (she could now identify it as having been Bud’s for her mind was
clearing more) now asked, “Well, which is it? Hans Brinker or The Silver Skates?”

“Story’s got two titles ‘cause I figure the silver skates have to do with this Hans Brinker.
Want me to keep going, sport?”

“There’s no gingerbread house in this one?” Terry asked quite seriously, causing Kaz and
everyone else to stare at him.

“Why would you think there’s a gingerbread...?” Beej asked. Part of her wanted to laugh
although she sat there with her mouth hanging open.

“Because the little boy is named Hans and his sister’s name is Gretel. Hans and Gretel,
right? Weren’t they in that story about the witch and the gingerbread house?” Terry was
still serious.

“Oh shit...” Hando mumbled, turning back to where he was in the story. “Interruptions,
interruptions...Stupid buggers.”

“That was Hansel and Gretel,” NormaJean piped up from her corner of the room, hoping
she didn’t wake up some of those that were sleeping close-by, including the Girardeaus,
Karen, John Nash and Arthur Baskin, both Anthony and the Point accountant softly
snoring away. Even Nash was more at ease, despite it feeling so confined here with all
these others, and he had dozed only upon knowing that Karen was asleep. But neither
Anthony or Arthur had anything on Jack Aubrey, who had blessedly moved to an
adjacent room where Beej would go to check on him quite often. His snoring, nearly as
loud as the engine of a 757, had driven everyone insane, and even now, one could hear
him as the noise penetrated the thick walls.

“I’ll go see to that.” Beej crawled to her feet and eased out.
Meanwhile, Terry appeared honestly puzzled at NormaJean’s response. “Strewth? So
these aren’t the same little kids then?”

Mannie also looked astonished and leaning over so NormaJean could hear him he said, “I
thought it was them too.”

No...because Hans and Gretel were in Holland and Hansel and Gretel were probably in
Germany Tina laughed to herself, glad that at least it was all good-natured arguing and
not some of the words that had gone between all of them when things seemed to be
collapsing around them.

“Are you just bein’ a total hoon or are you just workin’ at it?” That came from Colin,
who seemed nearly ready to laugh his head off for the first time in ages. “It said The
Silver Skates. There was nothing about a gingerbread house. If it was it would have
talked about the wicked stepmum and the dad strandin’ them...”

Hando gave a loud sigh. “Are you boofheads done so I can continue?”

“Boofhead?” Chloe softly asked Cort, realizing for the first time that the former
gunslinger’s head was bowed as though he was nodding off. Although they were a few
feet from the others they had been enjoying the various tales, but while one of the Point’s
latest arrivals was busy jotting things down on a yellow notepad – a task she started hours
before -- only to discard a sheet of paper after seeming dissatisfied with whatever she was
writing, Cort leaned on one hand, his elbow propped on the coffee table they were at. It
was one of the last pieces of furniture left in the room and he had claimed it as his own
“bed,” declaring that if necessary, he would lay on it to prevent its’ destruction. As time
passed, he was unsure what she was doing, but she was keeping herself busy...as well as
warm, one hand easing out from her covers so she could write. “Cort?”

“Hmph?”

“What’s a boofhead?”

“Something like a silly bugger I think,” he muttered, still partially asleep. It wasn’t all
that comfortable sitting nearly Buddha-like beside a coffee table.

“Oh thanks. That helped.”

“Welcome,” and he began to drift again.

That comment earned a quiet giggle from Tina, the sound causing John Biebe to crawl
out from under the blankets on his side of the mattress to where he had left her once she
drifted off to sleep. She had remained awake nearly the entire night, her moments of
sleep tiny snatches that didn’t last, but at some point during Hando’s reading of Hans
Brinker, John felt her head sliding off his shoulder. He managed to catch her before she
hit the floor, tucked her beneath the bedding, and while he listened – still having trouble
sleeping – there was never a time when he didn’t at least lean near her to make certain
she was all right. After all, it was the least he could attempt in what he felt was his own
feeble way, and he wondered yet again about the difficulties connected to being the
spouse or companion of a Keeper.

“Tina?” he whispered, watching as two brown eyes suddenly turned to look up at him.

“Hey!” she sleepily replied.

“Hey back. You okay?”

She pushed a button on her wristwatch so that it was illuminated. Five-fifty. Nearly
daybreak. “Mmm...how long...” She ran a hand over her face, hoping that would clear her
thoughts even more. “How...uh...How long have I been sleep?”

John reclined beside her so that once Tina had repositioned herself, they were face-to-
face, keeping their voices low as Hando continued his reading. “Not long – about two
hours give or take. You feel better?”

“A little.” She sighed, taking one of his hands and clutching it. “I wish we were home.”

“Me too. Bunking’s okay when you’re camping or something...but not on Christmas Eve
with all the friends and relations and no place to go,” he grinned.

“It is Christmas Eve, isn’t it? I’d almost forgotten...” Her mind was drifting once more as
she remembered all of those holidays she had spent with him since her initial arrival at
the Point. Their first Christmas – both in love with one another but still wondering where
it might lead in the end. The Valentine Day when she ran late, and the one when she
thought she had a mystery lover....The surprise birthday party when he proposed....All the
St. Paddy’s Days, the Easter Sundays she took so seriously, the Derby celebrations and
the Fourth of July. ANZAC days and Guy Fawkes Days. Thanksgiving – so incredibly
American but the one holiday they all looked forward to since it meant food and yes,
being thankful for all the years they had shared as an extended family. Terry Thorne had
once joked that this place would find pretty much any reason to have a party.

But Christmastime remained the most special, even when there were troubles...and she
thought back to when Nash arrived and Michelle – as sole Keeper – had gone into her
own form of madness, nearly ripping apart everyone and everything.

“If we’re lucky the Creator won’t play anybody like that again.”

Tina realized that John had sensed what bothered her. Nodding she said, “Well...Jack’s
arrival wasn’t so bad for Chelle. Jim’s either and...here’s hoping Max won’t cause any
major problems. If we’re lucky, Trisha’ll just want to plant more vines. Beats wanting to
take up boxing I guess.”
John laughed out loud, then reddened slightly, hoping he had not awakened anyone.
Softening his voice again he continued. “I...know you sense it too darlin’...what she goes
through I mean. Can’t be helped.”

“It’s nothing.”

“But it’s like the way you feel when we go Outside, isn’t it?”

She shrugged, not wanting him to worry although she knew he was very much aware.
“It’s much more...I don’t know...It’s...similar. I mean...we knew all of this when...” She
rubbed at her eyes, almost laughing herself. “I almost said when the mantle was passed to
us....That sounded very...Biblical.”

“Yeah...well...”

Tina watched John’s eyes squint. He knew there was more. “I can’t hide a thing from
you, can I?”

“Not really....So did you get a good sleep? Too damn short for my tastes. I was hoping
you’d get a few more hours in.”

“I...” She paused, listening to Hando’s clear phrasing. “I was...dreaming.”

“You were? What about? Do you remember it?”

“I....Isn’t it funny...?”

“What?”

“How you’re thinking about one thing when you fall asleep...and you dream about
something that has totally nothing to...” She shook her head. “I know Hando was
reading Hans Brinker...”

“You were dreaming about silver skates?” John smiled.

“No...I was dreaming...” Tina stopped. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Why?”

“It’s...I’ll tell you later,” she repeated. Her memories of the dream had been in snatches
on first awakening but now it was vividly returning to her and this was one she would
prefer to discuss in private, if John would allow her. He probably already had a good idea
because she suddenly felt the fingers of one hand caressing her red hair, the loose curls
falling below her shoulders, while the other drew the blankets, quilts and comforters over
them.
“When I first met you...you had those pretty straw curls, remember? The ones they make
with real straws?” She nodded. “You...I had no idea we’d come to this.”

“Me either. I thought ‘Okay...I’ll come on my off days; attach a V-day here and there.’
Then the weekends seemed to get longer....Then I wanted to be with you on holidays too.
And remember...remember we really, really thought we could get married and I could
keep working in the Real World and...I should have known that wouldn’t work.”

“Well...we tried. I wanted to try to give a little, you know, see if it worked.”

“I don’t know how I thought it would though....This...All this...” Tears began to brim in
her eyes. “It’s home – always has been. I’ve...I’ve just been so...so...down lately...with
everything....Nothing seeming to go the way I....I feel like I’ve let Chelle down...”

“No...”

“All of you down. She entrusted this to us and now Trisha won’t be back until spring and
I just...” She swallowed hard, hoping no one heard the gulp, heard the sobs that were
threatening to break from her chest. “I...” Burying her face in her husband’s neck he
heard her mumble, “I just want the whole damn year to be over. It’s like everything has
been a disaster...just one disaster on top of another and I...I can’t control it. I can’t do
anything.”

John held her closer, knowing very well that her words went well beyond the events at
the Point. They had all nearly gone into hysterics in June when a disturbance like nothing
they had ever known had occurred, wiping aside the initial box office disappointment
of Cinderella Man as they were swallowed up in the filth from Outside. To this day, Tina
had never seen the photographs taken that dreadful Monday....It was too bitter; too
upsetting....He knew – without her saying – that she feared the Point would completely
vanish under the weight of it, as almost gleeful pronouncements from the media spoke of
maximum prison sentences and compared the Creator to the worst terrorists in the world,
exaggerating the Incident until it seemed the crime of the century! She would curse the
press as stupid, damn malfunctioning phones, criticize snooty concierges...then take a
deep breath and go on, even as the fears pressed on her mind, both within their world and
out. November had brought better news of course but still....

“I don’t think any of us expect you to be a miracle worker, sweetheart. And God knows
we sure didn’t see
any of that from June coming.”

“Funny thing is...we didn’t see anything coming. Nothing. It was just all too...” She
sighed again. “It’s just beyond me sometimes.”

“You want my advice, stupid as it is?”

She smiled and brushed his cheek. “Sure Sheriff. What?”

“Let it go. No...Tina...let it go. Not only are you not a miracle worker, you’re not God. I
know things...I know it all hit the fan for months but sometimes...sometimes we’ve got to
know when to stop beating up on ourselves, especially when there’s nothing we can do
about it. Outside was a mess but we couldn’t help him...as much as we wanted to, what
the hell could we do? And it’s the damn studio’s fault releasing the movie when....”

“And everything in here?”

“The same....Look...I know....Don’t think I don’t know.” He touched the tip of her nose.
“You don’t mean to, but sometimes those eyes of yours give you away...or you just think
too darn loud.” There – a smile...finally a smile. “No...don’t ever think I don’t know...and
nothing we’ve been through this year...” He shook his head. “It’s cliched, but hang in
there. If you thought it was all too much and you wanted it to end, you could just go back
out there and forget it, but you haven’t. And it’s not just me you’re thinking about. It’s all
my brothers...” He could hear a couple of them having another good-natured
disagreement. “It’s my brothers damn them...and the ones that come here and
find...something.”

“John! Hey John!” That came from Steve, the humor obvious in his voice. “What the hell
are you and Tina doing under there?”

“None of your damn business!” John shouted back and he would have laughed even
harder had he seen Donna give Steve a sharp deserving nudge in the ribs. But when his
attention returned to Tina, he could see that she was taking his words into deep
consideration.

“I miss them,” she choked. She was remembering the ladies that were at the old Crowe’s
Nest when she first wandered into this place...had it been more than five years ago? Then
it became Crowe’s Point and a few departed, never to return. Others, too, had come and
gone over time, but for some reason, the last year had seen too many leave and she knew
in her heart they would never see them in this world again. Not the lurkers – they flitted
about like flies and one never knew with them, but the ones that had once made the Point
their home...and then found reason to go, leaving behind the loss of their presence and a
brokenhearted now former Companion.

“I know...I know...I miss them too.”

“I...I’ve just wondered – once they get here...how can they go? I mean...the ones we
loved. You’re right – it’s not a Utopia. We’ve had ups and downs....but I just don’t get
why they say good-bye, forever I mean. Especially the ones I thought were so happy here
with us.”
“Well...they all had reasons. Some couldn’t help it. Some of ‘em had to go. You couldn’t
force them to stay. And maybe...maybe a few of them weren’t meant to be here forever
anyway darlin’ – you ever thought of that?”

“Yeah...”

“And look at the bright side.”

“What?” Her touch, her gaze were tender.

“They never quit coming. Look at Chloe and Darcy, eh? Beej? Sara? You just...There are
some we don’t even know about yet, but they’ll get here...and want to stay here...and be
happy...like you. And who knows? One day maybe we’ll see one or two of the others
again. You can’t be sure where your path will take you and I don’t count out anything
anymore, not since I ended up here. And we’ll love them and pretend like they never
left.”

For the first time in the longest he watched her eyes glow with expectation...with plans
for the future...his words proving a small epiphany for her and when she pulled his head
towards her so she could kiss him, John knew it was out of love...and gratitude.

“Mates! You’re not going to believe this!!”

Andy’s words startled everyone out of their deep sleep, napping or conversation. They all
turned to where a figure in woolen hat, heavy Thinsulated jacket, Blundstones, muffler
and gloves was standing in the doorway, most never realizing that the young man had left
the large dining room a little while before to take a bathroom break and stretch his legs.
In fact in all the winter clothing, he was almost unrecognizable.

“Who is that?” Alex grumbled as he rolled over. He had been getting a very good sleep –
despite the cold – and didn’t appreciate being awakened.

On seeing that he was getting nothing but casual or uninterested looks, Andy sighed and
waved one hand as if indicating outside the room. “Get off your bums – my apologies to
the sheilas – but you all need to take a squizz at this!” He started backing up then took off
at a dead run, but not before shouting, “Come on – off your arses!”

“He’s not going to leave us alone until we do,” John told Tina, glad to hear her laugh.
“Let’s go see what has him stirred up.”

Minutes later – after donning their coats and footwear – they were following in Andy’s
footsteps as he rushed ahead of them, urging them with “Come on!” until several of his
brothers were ready to throw him through a wall.
“If he wants us to see some bloody bird or squirrel doing something cute, I’m going to
kick his arse!” Terry griped.

But the moment Andy threw open the hotel’s front doors, and he felt himself being
pushed from behind as the large group eagerly gathered in the threshold, one of his
Aussie brothers exclaiming “Fuck!” it was now apparent about the source of his
excitement.

The blizzard had stopped and despite the sun only now beginning to illuminate the
eastern horizon, the dull grey clouds burning away like unraveling threads, the foot or
more of snow that had buried them inside the building had gone! In its’ place, all around
them, was a pretty white blanket – pure, untouched, barely an inch of perfect Christmas
snow, the flakes coming down not in intense amounts but with the poetry of graceful
wings.

“Where did it go?” No one was sure who said it, but the voice expressed the
incredulousness they all felt.

“Who cares? It’s gone!” and a cheer went up.

“Isn’t it somethin’?!” Andy told them, his chest puffed out with pride. “That’s why I had
to get you. Figured you’d think it was pure furphy if I told you and you didn’t see it for
yourselves.”

Terry patted him on the back. “Well...I’m totally gobsmacked.”

Tina, standing off to one side with John’s arms wrapped about her, was smiling as she
watched her brothers-in-law and her friends and guests whooping and nearly dancing in
delight as some rushed back into the Hotel to get their belongings, and others threw
caution to the wind and took off for their vehicles or towards the Tavern. And then,
momentarily, it was quiet.

“We need to get back inside; get our things, okay?”

“Okay.” She was still staring straight ahead.

“Then if you want to head back over to the house, I can stay here for a bit, try to help
them get things straightened out. The place is a mess....Tina? Tina?”

“Hmm?”

“You all right?”

She shook her head, not in disagreement but astonishment. “It’s like...It’s like it never
happened.”
John chuckled. “Great isn’t it and just in time for Christmas too. You know...if Savannah
was here...”

“I know. I was thinking that too.” She cocked her head to one side. “I wonder when the
snow finally stopped?”

“I wonder when it melted?” John asked, grinning. “Oh well...guess it’s something else we
can chalk up to Point magic, eh?” He took one of Tina’s hands, gently tugging it as he
prepared to return indoors. “Beats trying to find some other logic to it. You ready darlin’?
You must be freezing.”

“I...Yeah.” But they had barely walked a few feet when Tina turned again, her attention
drawn back to the Hotel’s main yard, the snow sparkling in diminutive prisms as the sun
rose higher. The Alaskan watched her, not speaking as she slowly turned, her eyes
sweeping over everything within her view, until he saw a slow smile appear on her lips.

“Darlin’?”

“I’m...I...I’m glad we talked...back there I mean...after I woke up.”

“Sure.” Now he was uncertain where she was going with this. “Anytime you
know...right?”

“Right. It made me feel better...” She sighed. “It made me feel better than I have in a
long, long time.”

“Well like I said, anytime....Now come on,” he insisted, pulling her forward until they
were moving through the foyer, carefully avoiding the ones rushing around them. “And
when we get home and settled back in...”

“Yes?” She suspected he was thinking of them having a romantic Christmas Eve together
once services and the party were over.

“I want to hear more about that dream of yours.”

Tina’s only response was to smile even more and lean against him, slipping an arm about
his waist. “We’ll see....We’ll see.”

THE END

Notes: The inspiration for The Gift came from the short story, The Gift of the Magi,
written by the American O. Henry a.k.a. William Sydney Porter, who was born in North
Carolina on the 11th of September 1862 and took the pen name for his writing after
serving time in Federal prison for embezzlement. His claim to fame, besides his
wonderful stories, was that he was a master in weaving stories with surprise endings,
such as The Gift of the Magi, which along with The Ransom of Red Chief, may be among
his most famous. A text of the original may be currently found
at: http://www.auburn.edu/~vestmon/Gift_of_the_Magi.html
I want to thank Sharon for being my beta this time out, as well as giving me the
suggestion of the story.
The final paragraph of my story was taken from the final paragraph of O. Henry’s, and
there are scenes I must credit to his as well as some of the dialogue. The name of the hair
store owner was also his creation, and I could not help giving him a sort of cameo by
christening the landlady ‘Mrs. Henry’!