Sammy didn’t care for Christmas. All it did was serve as a reminder that things were not normal. It wasn’t that his Grandfather didn’t try to make things nice. In fact, the old man always went all out with the trappings, tinsel, and treats. A delightfully fake tree dressed all in white stood proudly in the main room of the house, delivered from Cerulean City. Its pristine branches had been powdered and glittered and sterile silver and gold baubles hung as if glued to them. Plastic “icicles” dripped and completed the image of a tree pulled straight out of a catalog. It was certainly pretty, but it was a stark departure from what Sammy remembered.
He remembered, just barely, the image of a man walking through the front door with cheeks that shone with condensation and burned by the cold. A tree far too skimpy to have been considered “respectable”, but hacked down by the man himself straight from the nearby woods. He stood there proudly with his arms outstretched as he laughed and tried to press his frozen cheeks against Sammy’s own. Sammy recalled pulling away from the scratchiness of the man’s stubble, the chill brought in from the elements, and from the grabbiness of the man’s hands.
His father then pulled Sammy’s mother in for a kiss with an exaggerated pucker before finally lugging in the wooden skeleton and setting it up in the corner before the fireplace. Strands of red fabric were draped in swooping ribbons to clothe the sorry thing, and glass ornaments were placed to fill in the gaps where the brown and green needles were threadbare. Sammy remembered the joy on his mother’s face as she would have him bless each ornament with a kiss before daintily placing each one. Well, Sammy thought he remembered anyway.
That’s what the pictures told him he was supposed to remember, anyway.
As usual for this time of year, the Oak household was filled with half-drunk neighbors who all crooned with delight over the altogether too perfect specimen of a Christmas tree as they sipped at glasses of wine or sherry and dined upon the “can-ap-pays” that Miss Summers had whipped up for the occasion. Like most years, they were gathered together in celebration of another harvest finished and the fact that many now had plenty of time to catch up on the gossip. Overall, it been a rather good year for Pallet Town despite the Rattata event and even the most outspokenly negative of them had come around to the idea of League involvement. This was reflected in the oft-repeated topics of the evening.
“Didja hear that the new Mart’s gonna have a cheese selection?”
“Little Jim is going to be so pleased with the Youngsters, he’s always wanted to join up but I wasn’t about to drive him to Pewter and back every week.”
“Hear they’re gonna put in one o’ them Pokemon hospitals in. A whatchermacallit…”
“A Center.”
“Oh, one of them too. Last year that Ol’ Oak’s gonna have to put up with us in his house.”
“No, I mean it’s called a Pokemon Center.”
“That right? Well we’re gettin’ a center for us humans too then.”
Sammy found it all quite boring, and the few adults who bothered to pay attention to him at all were those who just wanted him out of the way. Paul was visiting his own folks and Miss Summers was too busy in the kitchen to entertain him. A few other children were present, but they were younger than him and were all out playing in the snow that had come in the night before. Aggie had been grounded again for whatever reason. Crescent was overwhelmed by the noise and was currently huddling under Sammy’s bed. So Sammy just flit around the edge and tried to look unassuming as he tried to look for something to do.
What was worse was that Dean and his family hadn’t arrived yet. The man had promised to arrive today, but it was already six-thirty in the evening. Dinner would be served in another hour and Sammy wasn’t exactly looking forward to babysitting at the kid’s table. It was confusing that Sammy found himself looking forward to Dean’s arrival, but his Grandfather had told him that it was a normal thing to feel. Like the explanation hardly made Sammy feel any better about it. It was simply weird that one moment he could hate the man and the next be looking forward to seeing him again.
Sammy supposed that a part of it was that Dean was bringing his son along. What was his name again? Bob? No, that wasn’t right. Bill? No…that wasn’t it either. Sammy shrugged as he darted around a couple who clearly had started the party earlier than most. Their swaying feet were quite unstable as they attempted to ballroom dance their way down the hallway. Repressing a frown, Sammy made his way to his mother’s room. It would be quiet there, and no one would bother him or tell him what to do there either.
He entered as quietly as he could, shutting out the noise and laughter to a dull muffle as the door shut behind him. Walking up to his mother’s form, Sammy admired the work that Miss Summers had put into making the woman look as if she too were joining the other adults in making fools of themselves. Her hair had been cleaned and brushed and put up in a simple ponyta-tail that hung over one shoulder. A knitted red sweater complete with sequins kept her warm as did the neatly turned-down comforter and duvet. A small electric oil heater kept what remained of the chill out of the room. Sammy pulled the rocking chair closer so he could sit next to his mother. Ever since his talk with Miss Summers, he had become more comfortable spending time in here alone. Not that it made things any easier when it came to talking. He stumbled over the words for a while in his head before settling on what to say out loud.
“Hi mom.” Sammy paused for another long moment. “I, uh, I just wanted to get away from everything. I don’t like how noisy everything is and Crescent doesn’t want to come out from under my bed. Can I hide in here with you?” Sammy listened to his mother’s soft breather, almost imperceptible over the hubbub that still managed to creep in through the walls. When no answer was forthcoming, he sighed and took the hand closest to him. “Thanks mom. I wish you were awake enough to come out. Maybe you’d make things better, or maybe you’d help Miss Summers or something like that.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
His mother’s hands were warm.
“I know that I’m not supposed to peek, but I saw what Gramps got for me this year.” Sammy tried to look apologetic, but didn’t quite manage to make the right face. “He got me an Encyclopedia. A full set! All the way from A for Abra to Z for Zubat with pictures and everything. We got one of those at school, but it’s an old one and we’re missing C and F. Miss Brunch said that they got lost, but I’m pretty sure that Grant burned the F in the stove when no one else was looking.”
Sammy’s mother’s fingers closed a tiny bit around his hand.
“I know that a lot of the other kids were asking for Pika-Brites, but I think they’re stupid. I mean, they’re just plastic pegs you put into a flashlight! I bet I could just make one if I really wanted to. Just make a box and stick some holes in it! Oh, and Gramps has this big, big box that came in at the same time as the Christmas tree, but he won’t tell me what’s inside. I was gonna peek at it too, but it’s all made of wood and it’s too dark inside.” The words were just pouring out at this point. “I mean, this box is huge! It took three guys just to bring it inside. One of them had a Machop, but I guess he musta forgot about it because he didn’t use him to help. I think that was stupid. Miss Brunch told us that Machops have a higher den… den… density of muscles and that’s what makes them stronger than most people.”
Sammy kept going, telling his mother about anything that came to mind and hardly noticed the time passing. At some point he had gotten out of the chair and was Mr. Mime-ing how they managed to bring home the Shellders from the beach and how hard it was to drag the sack until Mr. Pederschmidt at the hardware store told them to borrow a wheelbarrow. He was in the middle of saying how great Miss Summer’s chowder was and how wrong Aggie was about who had the best one when Roger Oak poked his head inside the room.
“Sammy, it’s time for dinner.”
Sammy dropped his hands and turned to face the man. “Could I just eat in here instead?”
The old man laughed. “Sally will take care of your mother. Besides, our Trainer friend arrived about a half hour ago and is all settled in. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t notice, seeing as they’re just across the hall from you. Come on out and join us. Dean’s kid is your age, and I think you’re gonna get along fine.”
Despite his nervousness, Sammy couldn’t help but smile a bit in anticipation. Swooping to his mother’s side, he placed a kiss upon her cheek before rushing out the bedroom door. Roger Oak smiled warmly after the boy before placing one of his own and shuffling out. The old man sighed under his breath.
“I need to give Sally a raise.”
As the door closed, a small smile touched Mirabelle Himada’s lips.
----------------------------------------
Sammy’s gasp was loud enough to be heard over the uproar that was currently taking place before the albino tree. Dean had just released Rooster to the adulations of the crowd and laughed in amusement as the Superpower Pokemon struck pose after pose. The man himself was dressed in a three piece green suit with a single medal pinned on his lapel. A striking blonde woman stood at his side draped in a thin dress that could only be described as “loud”. Pinks, purples, whites, and browns all clashed together in a wavy striped pattern that was dizzying to stare at. Her face was all angles, but the bright smile dulled any potential edges that could be attributed to such a stereotype. Between the two was a boy just shy of Sammy’s own height. Massive spectacles adorned his face and magnified the eyes behind them twofold giving him a scared and pitiful look. Diglett-brown hair lay tousled on his head and was currently being mussed over by the woman in the loud dress.
“Sammy! It’s good to see you again, son!” Despite being surrounded by adults pressing the man for attention, Dean immediately directed his attention to the boy. “Come, I want to introduce you to my family! Hun, this is Sammy, Takahiro’s boy.”
The woman in the loud dress stooped elegantly and held out one jewel-bedecked hand, “Call me Sandy. My husband has told me all about you, and I have to say, you’re one brave young boy to have done what you did.”
Sammy limply took the offered hand and was surprised to find himself dragged in for a hug.
“Oh, don’t be shy! I may not be your mother, but I can tell when a boy just needs a hug.”
Sammy’s face burned scarlet with embarrassment as he extricated himself from the woman’s grip. He managed to glare a bit at Dean, as it was all his fault somehow. The grin on the man’s face didn’t waver at all as he pushed the wide-eyed boy forward.
“You may want to get used to it, my wife’s a hugger. Now, don’t be fooled by his glasses, he’s a scrappy one and has always managed to make me nothing but proud of what he can do. Go on, son, introduce yourself.”
The boy didn’t offer a handshake, but instead cocked his head to one side while gazing at Sammy with a critical eye.
“Hi, I’m Blaine. Did you know, that in terms of…”
Dean immediately clamped a hand over the boy’s mouth with a wry grin. “Sorry, our little factoid monster sometimes forgets that not everyone is terribly interested in which Pokemon burns at the highest temperatures.”
Sammy smiled a smile that truly felt that it came from deep within. Finally…he found a peer that he could actually talk to about stuff. “No, it’s okay, I wanna know.”
Wrestling his face away from Dean’s fingers, Blaine’s smile was just as big. “Well, lots of people think that Rapidash are the hottest since they’re always on fire, but in fact, it’s actually Magmar that are even hotter! They live in volcanoes! It’s totally hotter in a volcano than around a campfire, so obviously they’re hotter than a Rapidash. I mean, there was a study done about ten years ago where some guys were able to actually go into a volcano to take measurements that didn’t make their equipment burn up…”
As Blaine continued to wax poetic about how cool the heat-proof suits were and how apparently Magmar were so hot that their skin shimmered like the road did in the middle of summer, Sammy had come to the conclusion that maybe this Christmas was going to be the best one he had experienced in a long time.