Part 2

Kel finished washing the dishes and then added some more logs to the fire.  He watched the swirling snowflakes outside and tried to decide if the storm was slowing down.  It wasn’t.  Kel made a mental note to make sure that between Roy and himself, that they would keep the porch cleared so they would be able to continue opening the door in order to get firewood.  Johnny appeared to be asleep, so Kel sat down on the well worn chair and watched the dancing flames.  No sooner had he begun to drift off himself, he was awakened by a rustle of blankets and a soft moan.  “Johnny?”

Johnny shifted his long limbs, trying to find a comfortable position.  It wasn’t working.  Finally, he tried turning onto his side, but was stopped by a paralyzing stinging in his lower back and hip as if a swarm of bees had taken up residence on the sleeping bag beneath him and were angry at being disturbed.  He hissed sharply.

Kel was on his feet in an instant and he knelt down, steadying his friend with his hands.  “Talk to me, Johnny.  What’s going on?”

Johnny’s hitching breath betrayed the intense pain he was feeling.  “Cramp…I think…”

“Your back?”  Kel’s hand moved to the area in question.

“Yeah.”  Johnny panted through gritted teeth as he allowed Kel to move him onto his right side.  Finally, he breathed a long relieved exhale when the piercing spasms gave way to an intense ache.

“Better?”

“Yeah…it’s better, but…”  Johnny was about to request some pain medication.  He could deal with the ache in his back as long as he kept perfectly still, but his hands were pulsing and tingling so badly he felt nauseous.  And now that he was on his side, the muscles in his midsection were pulling on his fractured rib and the incision that Kel had made the day before.  But, then Johnny reminded himself that the precious concoction that could ease him back into sleep was in short supply.  “Never mind.”

Kel could tell that Johnny was attempting to manage his pain on his own.  “Johnny, what’s bothering you the most?”

Johnny closed his eyes, realizing he wasn’t putting anything past the seasoned doctor who had seen him in pain enough times to recognize his signals.  “Hands, Doc… Man, I can’t believe they hurt this much.”

“What kind of pain is it?”

Johnny swallowed against the oatmeal churning in his stomach as he thought about how to describe what he was feeling.  He had never experienced anything quite like it.  “Throbbing…like a really bad ache that goes all the way up my arms.  Tingling…like electricity.”

“Is it pretty constant?”

“Pretty much.  And every once in a while, I’ll get this sharp pain shooting up my arm into my teeth.  Man…I could live without that.”

Kel reached for his bag.  “Well, Johnny.  I know it doesn’t seem this way right now, but that pain you’re feeling is actually a good thing.  It means the nerves are working.  I need to take a look at your hands, and change the dressings.  Do you want some meperidine before we get started?”

“I don’t know, Doc.  I mean, I want this pain to go away, but… how long will it take until it’s not so intense?”

“It depends, Johnny.”  Kel wished he had better news.  The truth was the pain Johnny was experiencing in his hands would likely become worse throughout the next few days.  “It usually increases in severity as the tissues continue to swell, and then it begins to subside.  Unfortunately this probably isn’t the worst of it.”  He watched Johnny’s eyes close in frustration and disappointment.  “How about if I give you just enough meperidine to take the edge off along with some Tylenol?  Then, we’ll work on keeping the Tylenol in your system the rest of the day and save the stronger stuff for tonight.”

“Okay…”  Johnny winced at the needle stick and allowed Kel to help him swallow some Tylenol.  The powdery tablets caused him to gag slightly, and he hoped he would be able to keep them down.  As Kel began unwrapping the first bandaged hand, Johnny realized agreeing to the narcotic had been a good idea.  As the soft fabric began peeling away from his skin, the throbbing became more intense and he couldn’t hold back a groan.

“Sorry, Johnny.”  Kel twitched.  He examined the red, swollen digits carefully.  “It looks good.  About what I would expect at this stage.  It doesn’t look too severe, no signs of permanent tissue damage.”  He quickly replaced the dressing with a fresh one and did the same with Johnny’s other hand.  Then, he pulled out his stethoscope and listened to Johnny’s heart and lungs.  Satisfied that everything sounded all right, he checked the incision on Johnny’s left side and replaced the bandage there.  There were bruises all over Johnny’s trunk and arms that hadn’t been there yesterday.  He ran his hands over some of the more severe ones.  “You’re pretty banged up.  Are you having any new pain?”

Johnny shook his head.  “No…still cold, though.”

“Hmmm.”  Kel pulled a thermometer out of his bag and shook it down before placing it under Johnny’s tongue.  Then he moved the blanket aside, and removed Johnny’s socks, checking his toes for any signs of damage.  “Johnny, do you feel this?”  He lightly brushed the toes with his fingers.

Johnny wiggled his toes in response.  “Yeah, Doc.”

Kel replaced the socks and covered Johnny’s feet again.  “Well, the good news is the frostbite seems confined to your fingers.  You’ve got some chapped skin on your face and lips, but that will heal in a few days.”  He removed the thermometer and held it up to the light from the window to read it.  “100.4. It’s a little elevated.  You’re not allergic to penicillin are you, Johnny?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Good.”  Kel opened the small zippered pouch that contained oral medications.  “I have some pills here.  I didn’t see any signs of infection, so maybe you’re just coming down with something.  Won’t hurt to take some just in case.  The Tylenol you took will help too.”  He helped Johnny swallow two of the tiny white pills.  “Why don’t you try to get some rest now?  I’m sure Roy and Chris will be back soon with a tree, and things will get a little…exciting in here.”

“Right, Doc…”  Johnny was beginning to feel drowsy.  “Still…snowing?”

Kel reactively looked out the window, even though he already knew the answer.  “Yep.  Still coming down.  I bet we’ve gotten over two feet since yesterday.”

Johnny’s pulse quickened.  “Roy…Chris… they go…far?”

Kel smiled at Johnny’s concern.  “No, Johnny.  Roy said they would stay close to camp.  I’m sure they’re picking out just the right tree.  They’ll be back soon.”

As if on cue, thumping could be heard on the front porch as snow was removed from boots.  Kel stood up.  “There they are now.  Get some sleep while we set up this tree.  Then maybe later, you can supervise the decorating process.”  Kel smiled again and shook his head as he noticed his words hadn’t been heard.  Johnny was already asleep.

Kel pushed open the door to a blast of wind and snow.  Roy and Chris were on the porch shaking the snow off of the bushy limbs of a small pine tree.  After the bulk of the snow was removed, Kel and Roy went to work getting it inside and figuring out how to make it stand upright, while Chris pulled a jar of popcorn out of the cabinet in the kitchen.

Finally finding a large metal bucket, the men planted the tree trunk inside it, stabilizing it with several pieces of wood.  Chris stood back and examined the result of their efforts.  “It’s leaning that way a little.”  He pointed to his left.

A few more adjustments, and the tree was deemed straight and secure.  Roy showed Chris how to place the popcorn into a metal basket with a long handle, and explained that he needed to keep it in constant motion over the fire so the kernels wouldn’t burn.  Then he carefully stepped past his sleeping friend and motioned for Kel to join him across the room.  Motioning toward Johnny, he whispered.  “So, how’s he doing?”

“Not bad.  He’s got a lot of bruising.  It must have been quite a crash.  I changed the dressings on his hands, and they look good, all things considered.  There’s no sign of gangrene or permanent tissue damage.  He was having some pain, so I gave him a little meperidine along with some Tylenol.”

Roy chewed on his bottom lip.  He was still concerned, but it sounded as if Johnny had been extremely lucky.  Thank God the accident hadn’t been worse.  “Well, that’s good news I guess.”

Kel waited a few moments, as if allowing Roy a few more moments of peace before hitting him with his next bit of news.  “There’s something else, Roy.”

Roy could tell by the furrowing of the doctor’s eyebrows that the news he was about to deliver was not good.  His throat tightened, causing his voice to rise in pitch.  “What?”

“Johnny’s running a slight fever.  It could just be that his resistance is a little low, and he’s coming down with something.  His lungs are clear, and he doesn’t seem to have any other symptoms at the moment.”

“Or he could be developing an infection.”  Roy’s stomach knotted in dread.  If that were the case, Johnny’s condition could go downhill fast.

“I’m concerned about that too.  Normally, with frostbite, we would start IV broad spectrum antibiotics immediately.  And there’s also a chance of infection with that arrow wound.  Without a spleen, Johnny will have more trouble fighting off any bacteria.  I have some penicillin pills with me, and I’ve started him on those.  Hopefully, if it is an infection, they will keep it at bay until we can get him to a hospital.”

Roy’s eyes lingered on his sleeping friend.  “Yeah…hopefully.”

The solemn moment was shattered by the excited voice of a nine year old the day before Christmas Eve.  Chris had been trying to be quiet, so as not to wake his “uncle,” but as the popped corn began to overflow the basket, he could not contain his laughter and delight.

“Shhh, Chris.”  Roy crossed the room and knelt by his son, helping him with his task.  “Uncle Johnny needs his sleep.”

“Sorry, Dad.”  Chris whispered.  The pair was silent for a moment as Johnny shifted slightly and mumbled incoherently.  After a few tense seconds, he settled back into sleep.  Chris popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth and smiled up at his dad.  “I want to have the tree all decorated before Uncle Johnny wakes up.  I want it to be a surprise.”

Roy studied his friend for a moment.  “Well then we better get started stringing that popcorn.”  He and Chris walked over to the table, carrying the basket.  Kel was already there with some thread and a needle. 

Chris opened the basket and downed a handful of the white, fluffy snack.  “This would be better with some butter and salt.”

Kel smiled.  “You keep eating it like that, and we won’t have any to put on the tree.”

Chris stole one more handful.  “Yeah…I guess.  Hey, what are we going to use for lights?”

Roy spoke as he concentrated on spearing a piece of popcorn with the long suturing needle.  “Well in the days before electricity, they used to put candles on the tree.  We don’t have any of those, so we’ll just have to have a light-less tree.”

“Awww, man.  Maybe we could put a flashlight at the top at least…for a star?”  Chris was hopeful.

“I don’t think so, son.  We need to conserve the batteries in those.  Sorry.”

“Yeah…okay.”  Chris conceded as he watched the popcorn garland begin to grow.  Finally bored with this task, he got up and pulled a stack of paper and some markers out of his backpack.  “Dr. Brackett?  Do you have some scissors I can borrow?”

“I do, Chris.  But they’re very sharp, so be careful.”  Kel pulled out a pair of bandage scissors and handed them to the boy.

The next hour was spent with Roy continuing to string popcorn and Chris making some homemade ornaments out of paper.  He drew an assortment of stars and candy canes and colored balls, then he handed them to Kel to cut out with the scissors.  After the garland and the ornaments had been placed on the tree, Kel stood back and crossed his arms thoughtfully.  “Hmmm…it’s missing something.”  He unzipped his bag and rifled through it until he found his penlight.  He used some tape to attach it securely to the back of the large paper star Chris had made for the top of the tree and clicked it on before returning it to the highest bow.  “How’s that?”

Chris beamed appreciatively.  “Perfect!”

“I just put that battery in, so it should have plenty of life.  If we only turn it on at night, it should last for a while.”

“Good deal!”  Chris admired the tree and was filled with a sense of ownership and pride.

Roy noticed his son’s delight, and he wrapped his arm around his shoulder, thinking it was the most beautiful tree he had ever seen.  After basking in the moment for a while, Roy’s hands moved to the star.  “Well, I guess we better turn this off until later…”

“Can we turn it back on when Uncle Johnny wakes up, though?  Just so he can see it?”

As if summoned, a faint moan could be heard from across the room.  Chris sprinted over and plopped down on the rug, waiting.

Johnny didn’t want to wake up.  When he was sleeping, there was no pain, no bone chilling cold.  He kept his eyes closed, unaware of the boy sitting close to him.  But, sleep would not come.  The now all too familiar throbbing and prickling in his hands was back, although maybe not quite as bad as before.  He peeled his eyes open sleepily and when his eyes focused, he recognized Chris.  “Hey, sport.  Get a tree?”

“Sure did!”  Chris moved aside so that Johnny could see.  Kel reached up and clicked on the penlight, illuminating the star.

Johnny instinctively reached down in an effort to push himself up so he could see better, but he quickly aborted the idea when shooting pains up his arms reminded him of his injuries.  Instead he lifted his head a little, and a grin lit his face at the sight.  “Chris…that’s incredible!”

“The light was Dr. Brackett’s idea.”  Chris admitted.

Kel quickly deferred the credit.  “Well, actually it was Chris’ idea.  I just came up with the means.”

Johnny rested his head back against his pillows, still smiling appreciatively.  “Well…it’s a really great tree.  Better than any I’ve ever had.”

“Really?”  Chris doubted that, figuring his “uncle” was just being nice.

“Really, sport.  Santa would be impressed.”  Johnny yawned and closed his eyes.

“Aww, Uncle Johnny.  I don’t believe in Santa anymore.  But, I had the ranger tell Jenny that I wrote him a letter, asking him to wait a few days to come to our house this year.”

“Good thinking…”  Johnny was succumbing once again to exhaustion.  “Maybe he’ll make a stop here before he heads to LA…”

Chris laughed.  “I don’t think even Santa could find this place!”

“Mmmm…” Was Johnny’s only response as he drifted back to sleep.

E    E    E 

The rest of the day passed slowly.  Ranger Klinefelter contacted the camp several times to check on the stranded hunters.  Because the snow continued to fall unabated, there was no way to accurately estimate when they would be rescued, but he assured them he would do his best to speed up the process once the weather cleared. 

Johnny’s condition remained unchanged throughout the day.  He wasn’t able to rest well because the Tylenol wasn’t doing much to relieve his pain, and his fever, although not worse, was not coming down.  Roy and Kel’s concern was almost palpable, despite their best efforts to hide it for his and Chris’ sake. But unlike the young boy, Johnny knew better.  As bad as he felt, he felt confident his injuries would heal in time.  But, the fever worried him.  His friends had tried to convince him that he was simply coming down with something, but the overwhelming exhaustion he was feeling spoke of infection.  And unless whatever bug was attacking his system was afraid of the low doses of penicillin he had access to, he would only get worse until he could reach a hospital.  And God only knew how long that would be.

It was evening now.  Dinner was long over and Chris was already in bed.  Johnny hadn’t felt like eating much and he felt horrible for refusing Chris’ encouraging attempts at feeding him.  The last thing he wanted to do was worry the boy, but he knew that if he had tried to force down the food, he would have brought it back up later, and that would have scared him more.  With assurances that he would feel better in the morning, and hoping to God he was right, Johnny had finally convinced Chris to go to bed.

Roy was tending the fire, keeping an eye on his friend while he allowed Kel to get some sleep.  He noticed the sheen of perspiration on Johnny’s face and the way his slightly hitched breathing was coming in rapid pants. “How are you doing, Johnny?  Pain still bad?”

Johnny’s hands felt as if a colony of fire ants was trapped inside the muscle, crawling and biting as they tried to burst through the skin to freedom.  “Yeah…where’s…Kel?”

“He’s sleeping, Johnny.  What’s wrong?”

It was as if the question brought forth an onslaught of “wrong.”  All of a sudden, Johnny began to feel flushed.  The room tilted oddly.  “Don’t…know.  Don’t feel so…good.”

Roy immediately went into paramedic mode.  His friend was breathing heavily, and looking pretty gray.  “What do you mean, Johnny?  Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

Johnny nodded furiously as he tried to sit up.  “Yeah…”  The motion caused the muscles in his lower back to seize up and he choked out a cry.  “Hurry…”

Roy had already crossed to the other side of the room, grabbing the wastebasket from the kitchen.  He reached Johnny just in time, holding the plastic can in one hand and supporting his friend’s head with the other as Johnny brought up the tea he had to drink earlier before his body became wracked with dry heaves.

Kel awoke to the sound of retching interspersed with pain filled moans.  Conditioned to react quickly, he hopped out of bed and entered the living room.  Kneeling beside his distressed patient, he began firing questions.  “When did this start?”

Johnny continued gasping and gagging, so Roy answered for him.  “Just now.  He was having some pain, and then all of a sudden he said he wasn’t feeling good.”

Kel did his best to size up the situation.  “Roy, I have some compazine in my bag.”  Resting a hand on Johnny’s back for support, Kel spoke softly.  “Johnny, does your stomach hurt?”

Johnny shook his head, his eyes clenched tightly.  “No…”

“How about your chest?”

“My…”  Johnny gasped sharply, the words getting caught in his throat.  “My…side…”

“I know…try to slow your breathing down.”  Kel gave instructions to Roy to prepare injections of compazine and morphine.  “I think what’s happening is that we’ve let your pain become too overwhelming.  I’m going to give you something to settle your stomach and some MS.  You’ll be able to rest, and hopefully you’ll feel better in the morning.” 

Johnny shook his head again in frustration.  “But…you said…it’ll get…worse.”

Kel couldn’t help but feel responsible for Johnny’s predicament.  After all, he had encouraged him to try managing his pain with Tylenol today so that he could save the stronger medication for when he really needed it.  “I know I did, Johnny.  And I’m sorry.  But you need a break here.  I really think if you can get some good rest tonight, you’ll feel much better in the morning.”  What Kel was really thinking was that Johnny might be able to deal with his pain better if he was able to get some sleep.

Johnny allowed Roy and Kel to help him lie back down, his body trembling from chills and fatigue.  “’Kay…”

Kel administered the two injections, then guided a thermometer under Johnny’s tongue.  After waiting the required number of minutes he withdrew it, and held it up to the light.  “101.” Resting a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, he informed, “Johnny, I’m not going to give you any Tylenol.  I don’t want you to get sick again.  Just try to relax now and go to sleep.”

Johnny wanted to curl into a fetal position and bury his face in his pillow, but pain in his back and hip prevented it.  He moved his legs restlessly beneath his covers.  “Can’t…god…hurts…”

Roy rested a hand on Johnny’s forehead, willing the narcotic to take effect.  “I know it does.  It’ll be better soon.”  Roy kept up a low, soothing monologue until finally Johnny settled into sleep.  Releasing his breath, he looked up at Kel wearily.

“I know, Roy.  It’s a tough situation.  The truth is, his pain probably will get worse.  And it could be days until we get out of here…”

“There’s only ten milligrams of MS left, Doc.  And one vial of meperidine.”  Roy looked down at Johnny, relieved that he was sleeping at last, the tension gone from his face.

“We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

Roy straightened the wool blanket that covered his friend, tucking it gently around his shoulders.  “Not much of a Christmas, huh buddy?  Get some sleep now.  Good night.” 

E    E    E 

Johnny slept until almost ten the next morning, and awoke feeling fuzzy and lethargic.  He opened his eyes and blinked at the blurry image of a Christmas tree, strung with garlands of popcorn and decorated with paper ornaments.  Once his vision cleared, he turned his head slowly and noticed three figures seated at the table playing cards.  They didn’t seem to notice he was awake, so he took a moment to take stock of his condition.  He had no idea what time it was.  Roy had removed his watch and had never given it back to him.  A glance at the large window said that it was daytime, but the sun was still clouded by a curtain of falling snow, perhaps not as heavy as it had been the day before, but still coming down in thick, pillowy flakes.  Johnny was relieved that he must have slept at least eight hours, and that his pain did not seem as unbearable as it had the night before.  It was still there, and Johnny didn’t think he could go back to sleep now if he tried, but somehow it didn’t seem to bother him quite so much.

“Uncle Johnny!  You’re awake!”  Chris beamed over at him from the table.  “Do you wanna play cards with us?”

“Chris, Dr. Brackett and I are going to have to check on Johnny for a few minutes, see how he’s doing, change his bandages, maybe get him something to eat.”  Roy paused thoughtfully.  He had been about to say that Johnny needed his rest and probably wouldn’t feel like playing cards anyway, but he stopped himself.  What Johnny needed was a distraction.  “Then maybe we can move our game to the rug over there and Johnny can play too, if he feels up to it.”

“Can I help?” 

Kel placed his hand face down on the table and pushed himself up from the table.  “Sure you can, son.  You can work on making some tea and toast.”  He indicated the antique, stove top toaster that was sitting on the shelf behind him.

“Okay!”  Chris jumped up from the table and eagerly went about his assigned task.

Kel and Roy approached Johnny and Roy immediately began gathering vital signs.  He was relieved that Johnny appeared better this morning.  “It’s about time you got up, Junior.”  He teased.  “We thought you were going to sleep the whole day away, and then not be able to sleep tonight.  You know, Santa won’t come if you’re awake.”

“Cute, Roy.”  Johnny retorted, and then he quieted so Kel could listen to his chest.

Kel straightened up and removed his stethoscope from his ears.  “Still sounding good in there, Johnny.  How are you feeling this morning?”

Johnny’s eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully.  “Well, I’m not really sure, Doc.  I mean…I’m still hurtin’ but…”

Kel smiled knowingly.  This was what he had been hoping for.  He knew Johnny would still be having significant pain today, but it was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do for just about any condition.  “Well, let’s have a look at things.  We’ll change your dressings and see if you can keep some food down.  I’m going to give you a low dose of meperidine with some Tylenol.   We’ll try a little cyclobenzaprine too, and of course, the penicillin.  Are you still feeling nauseous?”

Johnny spoke around the thermometer Roy had slipped under his tongue.  “No…but I will be after you give me all that!”

Kel’s eyes sparkled as he shared a chuckle with Roy at Johnny’s expense.  “Well, if you are, I still have some compazine.  You really need to try and eat something.  We’ll see if you can keep some tea and dry toast down.  I know it’s a far cry from turkey and all the trimmings, but…”

Johnny smiled as the thermometer was removed.  “It’s okay, Doc.”

Roy’s voice seeped with relief.  “99.6. It’s come down a little since last night.” 

“That’s good.”  Kel’s face twitched in response to Johnny’s hissing protest as the bandages on his hands were removed.

Concerned the pain would escalate again, Johnny wondered if they had heard anything from the ranger about getting out of here.  “Has…has Klinefelter radioed…this morning?”

Roy swallowed his own nausea at the sight of Johnny’s grossly swollen fingers.  No wonder they were so painful.  “Yeah…yeah, Johnny.  He did.  He talked to Joanne and Jennifer and he’s going to try to set up a relay later today so they can talk to us.”

“That’s…that’s great, Roy.”  This wasn’t exactly what Johnny had wanted to know, but he knew it was important to Roy.  “Aahh…Doc, that hurts.”

“I know it does.  But, they’re looking good, Johnny.  I don’t think you’ll need to have any tissue removed.” 

“Well, that’s good news.”  Johnny replied uneasily.  He certainly didn’t want to go through all this only to lose his fingers.  Looking back up at Roy as he prepared to rebandage his hands, he asked the question that had been on his mind.  “What about the snow?  Did Klinefelter…”

Roy caught Kel’s eyes before answering.  “Yeah, Johnny.  It’s uh…it’s a slow moving system.  They don’t expect the snow to stop until sometime tomorrow.  He’s got a crew assembled and ready, but there’s nothing they can do yet.  They hope to have us out of here by Thursday or Friday.”

Johnny dropped his head back against his pillows.  “Oh, man.”  He grunted out a protest as Kel’s hands pressed down on his ribcage.  “Ahh!   Jesus…”  He immediately regretted his spontaneous choice of expletive, remembering Chris was in the room.  He eyed Roy apologetically.

“…was born tomorrow?”  A large smile lit Roy’s face, and the sight of Chris shaking his head and rolling his eyes caused everyone to burst out laughing.

Laughter caused the pain in Johnny’s left side to flare, but he couldn’t make himself care about it.  It felt good to laugh. 

Finally, Kel began pulling out the various vials and bottles of medication he had promised Johnny.  “I’m pretty certain that rib is fractured, Johnny.”

Johnny braced his side with his arm the best he could without the use of his hand.  “No sh… No kidding, Doc.”

Chris knelt down beside the others, balancing a mug of tea and a plate of toast.  “Uncle Johnny, I think you’ve earned the right to say ‘shit.’”

“Chris!”  Roy admonished.

Chris rolled his eyes again.  “Oh, Dad.  I know it’s not okay to say it.  But that doesn’t mean I’ve never heard it.  And Uncle Johnny doesn’t say it either, unless he’s really hurting.  It’s not like I’m going to be damaged for life.  Chill out a little, Dad.”

Johnny cringed.  “Uh…can we not use that word around here, Chris?”

“What word?”  Chris was confused.  He was pretty sure Johnny meant the “S-H” word, but he was the one who had used it in the first place.

“Chill!”  Johnny shuddered, causing another round of laughter.

E    E    E 

A few hours later, a knock at the door interrupted the seventeenth straight game of go fish.  Eyes locked in surprised caution.  The hope of being rescued was too much to wish for, so no one allowed himself to do so.  And stomachs twisted in fear and uncertainty as each hunter pondered who could be doing the rapping.  The light in the windows and the smoke huffing out of the chimney were proof enough the cabin was occupied.  Maybe it was another stranded hunter, injured or suffering from exposure, needing their help.  Or maybe it was someone with less innocent intent.  Out here in the wilderness, crimes could easily be committed, leaving behind no witnesses other than silent creatures of the forest who would not testify.  Kel was the first to rise, leaving Roy the option of keeping his son, and himself, a safe distance from the door.  He stopped midstride on his way to the door, as if rethinking his steps.  Reluctantly, he retrieved his rifle from the rack in the bedroom, loaded it, and clicked off the safety before standing to the side of the wooden door and leaning his ear next to the jamb.

The others watched the doctor from the other side of the room, realizing that they were in the line of fire if some maniac should decide to shoot through the door.  Roy grabbed Johnny under the arms, and quickly pulled him backwards out of the way, and ordered Chris to stay close beside him.  The scene at the door would have been comical if not for their situation.  Kel was dressed in jeans and a dark blue chamois shirt, his cotton long johns visible through the open buttons at the top.  His normally lacquered hair was mussed and in disarray, and his face sported a three day growth of stubble.  Leaning against the door, gun in hand, steely suspicion darkening his blue eyes, he looked like a character out of an old western.

The rapping continued.

“Who’s there?”  Kel barked sharply.

“Name’s Carpenter, Jesse Carpenter.”  Came the muffled reply.  “I mean you no harm.  I noticed you were here and I wondered if you were all right.  I brought some supplies…food and water.”

Kel took a moment before replying.  It seemed unlikely anyone would be out in this mess searching for people who needed assistance.  Besides, their cabin sat high on a hill, and wasn’t easily spotted from the road.  “Thanks, but we’re all okay here.”

The voice spoke again, undaunted by Kel’s brush off.  “Please.  I’ve travelled a long way, and would appreciate a warm place to rest for a spell.”

With a jerk of his head, Kel motioned for Roy to take Chris into the bedroom.  He noticed Johnny was looking at him.

“Let him in, Doc.”  Johnny whispered.  He wasn’t sure why but there was something oddly familiar and soothing about the voice.

Kel wrapped one hand tightly around the rifle and released the deadbolt.  Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and opened the door.  When he saw the figure on the other side of the screen door, tension flooded out of him, leaving him jelly-kneed.  Standing on the porch was an old man, his hair and long beard so white it almost glistened.  His kind eyes sparkled as he smiled, revealing teeth that were too well cared for to belong to some old mountain recluse.  In his arms were two crates full of canned and dry goods, and at his feet, several gallon sized bottles of water.  Kel stood puzzling for a moment.  There had been no sound of an approaching snowmobile, and that was the only vehicle that could have made it here.  How had this man carried all of these supplies himself?  Kel tried to look past him, but realized he would not be able to see anything through the blowing snow.  Taking the crates out of their visitor’s hands, he marveled at how heavy they were.  “Thank you.  Why don’t you come on in?”

Jesse stepped up into the cabin and looked around.  He was wearing only a lightweight coat, no hat, no gloves, yet he appeared unaffected by the cold.  “Sure is a lot cozier in here.  Heck of a storm we’re having.”

“Sure is.”  Kel placed the supplies on the table and closed the door, figuring they could carry the water bottles in later.  He motioned toward the chairs near the fire.  “Have a seat.”

Johnny raised a bandaged hand in a wave-like gesture, his eyes scanning the stranger walking toward him.  There was something odd about him, but he couldn’t quite place what.  “Merry Christmas.”

Jesse’s eyes lit up at the greeting.  “Merry Christmas, young man.”  He took a seat in the chair closest to Johnny.  “That’s an impressive animal hanging outside.  Who’s the lucky hunter?”

Kel cast an uneasy glance at Roy who had finally ventured out of the bedroom. 

Roy stepped behind the chair, reasonably sure that if this man had wanted to harm them, he probably would have done so by now.  Instinct born of years spent sizing up potentially dangerous scenes told him the stranger was harmless.  “That would be my son.  Chris!  Come on out, son.  It’s okay.”

Chris sidled tentatively out into the living room.  He shyly offered a “hello.”

Jesse reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a wrapped candy cane, offering it to the child.  “You can be very proud of yourself for being such a good provider for your family.”

Chris accepted the candy.  “Thanks, mister.  But, really it was my Dad that shot the elk.  I just pointed it out to him.”

Jesse winked.  “Well, lad.  Finding is the most important part of hunting.”

Chris smiled.  “Yeah.  I guess it is!”

Roy extended a hand.  “Mr. Carpenter.  My name is Roy Desoto, and this is my son, Chris.”

The introduction spurred the others to act, each man offering his name.

“I’d shake your hand too, but…”  Johnny looked down at his hands.

Concern clouded Carpenter’s face.  “You’ve been injured.  What happened?”

Johnny, along with some help from the others explained the events of the previous days and how they had been maintaining radio contact with Ranger Klinefelter.  They also told Carpenter where they were from and what they did for a living.

Jesse rubbed his beard thoughtfully.  “Hmmm.  Well I suppose if you’re going to have an accident on your snowmobile, it’s handy to have a paramedic and a doctor along.”

Johnny nodded.  “Yep.  Sure is.”  He cocked an eyebrow at the old man.  “So, where are you from Mr. Carpenter?”

“Oh, I get around, son.”  He stood up and walked back toward the door.  Looking toward the crates on the table, he said, “I’ll be going now that I know you’re all okay.  Enjoy the food.”

Kel moved closer to the door.  “Do you have to go so soon?  At least stay for a good hot meal and a cup of coffee.”

Jesse politely declined the offer.  “I’d love to, son.  But I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight.”

Kel wondered what work this man could possibly have to do tonight.  Did he make it his mission to seek out stranded hunters and bring them food?  Maybe he did.  “Mr. Carpenter…”

“Please, son.  Call me Jesse.”

Kel smiled.  “Okay.  Jesse…if you don’t mind my asking…how did you get here?”  The doctor in him was concerned about the old man wandering around the forest in the snow.

“My ride is parked just down over the hill.”  Jesse turned toward the door.

Roy approached the man now, an equal measure of concern reflecting in his eyes.  “Can we at least offer you a warmer coat?  A hat?”

“Thank you, son.  But, I have all that I need.  That Paul Klinefelter, he’s a good lad.  I’m sure he’ll have you all on your way back to Los Angeles in no time.”

Johnny again cocked a curious eyebrow.  He didn’t remember anyone telling Mr. Carpenter what the ranger’s first name was.

Jesse finally noticed the tree, and he smiled appreciatively.  “Why, my stars…that’s the finest Christmas tree I ever did see.”

“Thanks, Mr. Carpenter.”  Chris smiled.  “It was my idea.  I figured we should still celebrate Christmas, even if we couldn’t be at home.”

“A very smart lad you have here Mr. Desoto.  I’m sure you’re very proud of him.”  Jesse knelt down in front of Chris.  “And what a fine young man you’ve become.  You’ve learned that Christmas is more than presents and candy. Christmas is in here.”  He rested a hand over Chris’ heart.  “It’s something you have inside you, all the time.  Not just on December 25^th.  And only a precious few ever find it.”  Jesse kept his voice a faint whisper so only Chris could hear him.  “But you have, haven’t you?”  He winked and rose to his feet.

 Jesse opened the door, allowing a gust of brittle wind to burst inside.  “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

“Merry Christmas!”  The chorus followed him as he stepped out onto the porch.

Kel closed the door and refastened the deadbolt, pausing against the cold wood for a few seconds before turning around.  “An old man with white hair and a beard carrying candy canes in his pocket?”  He mused.  “Who’s going to show up here next?  A pregnant woman on a donkey?”

Roy and Chris shared in Kel’s laughter, but Johnny remained quiet and thoughtful.  “Did anyone else notice that when he first came in, he had no snow on him…at all?”

Kel’s eyes crinkled at the memory.  He had noticed that too, but hadn’t wanted to bring it up.  Surely there was some logical explanation.  “I did, Johnny.  None on his hair, his boots…”

“And he called Ranger Klinefelter Paul.  I don’t remember anyone saying what his first name was.”  Johnny continued.

Roy had also felt there was something odd about their mysterious visitor, but he was the sensible one, and figured he would supply some suggestions.  “Well, maybe he knows Paul.  If he’s from around here, he probably would.  As for the snow…I wasn’t out here when he first came in.  Could he have stood on the porch long enough that the snow melted off?”

“Yeah…probably.”  Kel’s voice was far from convincing.  After all, it was well below freezing outside.

“Chris, what did he say to you?”  Roy had wondered about the quiet interaction between Carpenter and his son.

“It’s a secret.”  Chris’ eyes brimmed with childlike excitement mixed with newfound maturity.  He looked at his watch.  “It’s almost suppertime.  Can we call Mom and Jenny soon?”

Roy’s heart fluttered, the mere mention of his wife and daughter’s names reminding him how much he missed them, and it nearly broke thinking of how much they would be missing him and Chris…and Johnny.  He hoped that some of the guys from the station would provide them some company, at least for Christmas Eve.  “Jennifer and your Mom will be going to church at 6:00, Chris, so they’re probably getting ready.  I told Ranger Klinefelter this morning that we would radio about 8:00.  Okay?”

“Yeah…okay, Dad.”  Chris suddenly realized how much he wanted to talk to his mother.  He started sorting through the crates of food.  “Yum!  Gingerbread!  Can we have this for supper?”

“Sounds good to me.”  Came the voice from the floor.

Roy snortled.  Johnny was feeling better.  “We can have the gingerbread for dessert, but I’m sure Mr. Carpenter brought something a little more substantial for supper.  Roy began pulling out the various boxes, mostly staples, with a few treats interspersed.  When he reached the bottom of the first crate, he stepped back in shocked delight, momentarily speechless.

“What is it, Roy?”  Kel wondered what the paramedic saw at the bottom of the crate.  He stepped up to the table and looked inside.  “Steaks?”

“Enough for two a piece.  Some ham steaks too.”

Kel pulled out enough meat to have for dinner, and then took the crate out onto the porch to keep it cold.  “Well thank you, Mr. Carpenter.  We’ll be eating high on the hog tonight.” 

“High on the hog?”  Roy teased.  “Three days in the mountains, and you’re beginning to sound like a local.”

“Yeah, well…just as long as I don’t become one.”  Kel walked over to where Johnny was trying to scooch himself across the floor.  “Whoa, Johnny.  Let me help you.  Do you want to try to get up and walk?”

“Yeah.”  Johnny allowed Kel and Roy to help him to his feet, and assist his wobbly legs in walking.

“How does your back feel, Johnny?”  Kel asked.

“It hurts…”  Johnny forced out through clenched teeth.  “Mostly stiff…Can I…?  I wanna try sitting on the couch.”

“Sure, Johnny.”  Kel agreed as he and Roy continued to guide their friend in that direction.  “Chris, can you put the cushions back on the couch please?”

Chris jumped to the task, and a few minutes later, Johnny was settled on the couch and covered with a blanket, his hands resting on a pillow in front of him.

“How are you doing sitting up?”  Kel questioned, as he assessed silently.

“Okay…Wanna try to…stay this way for a while.”  Johnny cursed his inability to hide the pain his little jaunt across the floor had caused.

“Okay…” Kel was reluctant, but it would be good for Johnny to sit for a while if he could.  “It’s almost time for your next dose of pain meds.  Do you want them now?”

Johnny nodded, trying to keep his tone light.  “I think that would be a good idea, Doc.”  He knew the pain was getting away from him again, the menial doses of narcotic and the Tylenol he had been given throughout the day barely able to take the edge off.  It had been okay for a while, but the darkening sky brought with it a sense of dread he didn’t want to voice.

Kel readied the syringes and stood by the couch.  “I’ll use an arm this time.”

“Appreciate it, Doc.”  Johnny rolled his eyes as he allowed Roy to roll up his sleeve.  As soon as the medication was injected, he slumped back, feeling exhausted.

“If you want to lie down, let us know.  I don’t want you moving around too much by yourself just yet.”  Kel ordered.

“Okay, Doc.”  Johnny looked past the fireplace at the picture window.  It was getting dark, and unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, the snow was finally slowing down.

E    E    E 

Roy placed the last of the dinner dishes into the tall cabinet and looked over at Johnny with concern.  He had again refused to eat, telling everyone it was because it was too late in the evening, and that it was hard for him to sleep on a full stomach.  But, Roy knew better.  He had seen Johnny consume a day’s worth of calories after midnight, then traipse into the dorm, falling asleep in seconds.  Also, he had never known his friend’s stomach to stay full for more than an hour at a time.  He walked over to the couch and squatted down beside it, not wanting to disturb the cushion next to Johnny.  He looked up to make sure Chris was still busy playing cards with Kel at the table and kept his voice low.  “How are you holding up?”

Johnny’s voice was edged with strain.  “’M’alright.”

Roy observed the way Johnny seemed to be leaning slightly into the arm of the couch, his breathing slightly uneven.  A barely noticeable layer of perspiration was breaking out on his brow which was turned slightly into a distressed frown.  Roy had seen his friend’s pain signals too many times to be fooled.  “You don’t look all right.”

Johnny’s eyes flashed with momentary anger.  Keeping the volume of his voice in check, he let loose an exasperated sigh.  “What do you want me to say, Roy?”  Johnny knew that Roy already knew he wasn’t feeling well, thus causing his line of questioning to further grate on his already irritated nerves.

Roy felt helpless.  His friend was hurting, that was for sure, but there was no telling when they would be rescued.  It could be a week or even longer.  They were out of meperidine now, and they would need to make a decision about the morphine.  There was enough for one, possibly two more doses.  Roy mentally clicked off the days since Johnny’s accident, remembering that Kel had said the frostbite pain would likely peak three to five days later.  That meant, it could continue to worsen over the next few days.  He felt sick thinking about it.  “Well…can I get you anything?”

“No…nothing.”  Johnny stared out the window, wondering what was going on outside.  It was dark now, and Johnny imagined icy blackness beyond the panes, which from where he was seated, reflected the inside of the cabin like a large mirror.

Roy followed Johnny’s gaze and stood up thoughtfully, offering his friend a few pats on the shoulder.  He shrugged on his heavy coat and stepped out onto the porch.  A second later, he burst back inside.  “It stopped!  It stopped snowing and the sky is clear!  I’ve never seen so many stars!”

Chris and Kel threw their cards on the table, and put on their own coats, following Roy outside.  Kel couldn’t help but smile at the awed expression on Chris’ face.  The number of stars that could be seen up here was amazing.  He pulled his coat a little tighter around him.  “Well, now I think I know how the shepherds felt.”

“I wish Uncle Johnny could come out and see.  He loves looking at the stars.”  Chris’ excitement was tinged with disappointment.

“Well, I don’t think it would be a good idea for your Uncle Johnny to be out in the cold right now, Chris.”  Roy stood behind his son and placed his hands on his shoulders.  He could feel the small frame shivering beneath his own tingling fingers.  “And, I think we should get back inside where it’s warm, too.”

“But, Dad…”

It was hard to tear himself away from the magnificent canopy above him, so Roy felt hard pressed ordering his son to do it.  There were so many stars, and they seemed close enough that he could have reached up and touched them.  The more he looked, the more he became lost in the vast expanse.  Some of the stars shined brighter than others, giving the illusion of twinkling.  The moon was large and full, and together with its celestial companions, illuminated the snow covered woods, creating a silvery, somewhat magical effect.  “It really is beautiful…”

Chris looked over his shoulder, smiling up at his father.  “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

Roy smiled as he wrapped his arms around Chris from behind.  “Merry Christmas, son.”

The three of them stood mesmerized for a few moments longer, basking in the deafening silence of the night.  The snow muted any and all sound from the already quiet wilderness as if to demonstrate what “peace” felt like.  Finally, Roy whispered, as if speaking aloud would somehow shatter the spell.  “Speaking of Christmas, it’s about time to talk to your mom and sister.”

Wordlessly, almost reverently, Chris and Kel followed Roy back into the cabin, leaving behind the mystic forest and its secrets.

E    E    E 

“Can I get you some more egg nog, Hank?”  Joanne Desoto loved to entertain, would spend countless hours decorating and preparing food for the enjoyment of her guests and for herself.  But this year, she hadn’t felt like bothering.  Although she was putting on a brave front for her daughter’s benefit, she missed Chris and Roy terribly and despite regular communication with Scott Kensington, she couldn’t help but be worried about them…and Johnny.  The Desoto family had been so looking forward to Christmas this year.  It was one of the rare instances that Roy was actually off on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. 

Joanne was grateful now for the company of friends, even though she felt somewhat guilty for not providing much of a “party.”  Hank Stanley and his wife, Marie, had come over after church.  And Chet showed up about thirty minutes later.  Mike and Marco had stopped in as well, on their way to their own family get-togethers.  No one seemed to mind the absence of the appetizing hors d’ouevres and festive atmosphere Joanne was famous for.

Hank handed his glass to Joanne.  “I’d love some.  Thanks.”

Joanne started for the kitchen, pretending not to be aware of the time.  It was 8:20.  She had been expecting a call from Scott twenty minutes ago.  She stopped in her tracks at the ringing phone.  Setting the empty glass down on the credenza, she grabbed the phone.  “Hello, Desoto’s.”

“Is it Daddy, Mommy?”  Jennifer pulled anxiously at her mother’s skirt.  “Is it Daddy?”

Joanne’s expression glowed with relief when Marie worked to distract the young girl while allowing her to continue standing nearby.

“Joanne Desoto?  This is Paul Klinefelter in Idaho.  I told Scott I would call you directly, and I’m sorry I’m a little late, but the storm has had us all a little busy up here.”

“I understand.”  Joanne tried to stifle some of her own eagerness.

“Well, listen.  I know you’re anxious to wish some people a merry Christmas…I have your husband on the radio with me.  I’ll need to be your relay, but I’ll try to hold the phone close enough that you can hear him, okay?”

“Okay.”  Joanne suddenly became aware that her palms were sweating.  She wiped her free hand on her apron.

Joanne could hear the ranger in the background, and then a few seconds later, her heart melted at the sound of a crackly voice.

“Merry Christmas, honey.”

Joanne turned her back to her guests and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.  “Tell him merry Christmas.”

A few seconds later, Roy’s voice crackled over her phone again.  She had to strain to hear.  “Is Jenny there?”

Joanne motioned for Jennifer to join her and she knelt down beside her daughter, holding the receiver so they both could hear.  “She’s right here.”

Paul relayed the message and then…

“Hi, sweetie.  How are you?”

Jennifer looked up at her mother with questioning blue eyes. 

“Just talk into the phone as if you’re talking to Daddy.  The ranger will tell him what you said.”

Jennifer paused for a moment while she took the receiver from Joanne and held it to her ear.  It looked three sizes too big for her tiny face.  “I’m okay, Daddy.  I miss you.  Mommy does too.  She misses Chris a lot too.  I can tell.”

Paul’s eyes clouded at the sound of the sweet voice on the other end of the phone, and he thought of his own daughter, tucked safely in her bed upstairs, waiting for Santa Claus.  He relayed the message to Roy and waited for his response.

“We miss you too, sweetie.”

Jennifer had more she wanted to tell her father before relinquishing her hold on the phone.  “Tell Chris Mr. Kensington told me about the letter he sent to Santa.  Mommy said we can just call the North Pole once you get home and he’ll make a special trip.”

Paul had to suppress a laugh.  The conversation continued for a while.  Chris was also able to get on the radio, and Joanne’s shell almost cracked at the sound of her son’s voice, so far away.  She longed to see him, to hold him in her arms, but she supposed she would have to settle for the reassurance that at least he was okay.  The inevitable questions about food and supplies, and Johnny’s condition ensued, and Roy, with the help of Ranger Klinefelter did their best to allay any concern.

“When will you be home?” 

Paul knew the question was directed at him, so he answered it to the best of his ability.  “The storm stopped a day earlier than was forecasted.  I’ve got phone calls in to everyone I know that can help us get through to the cabin.  We’ll have your family out of there as soon as is humanly possible, I assure you.”

“Okay…”  Joanne wanted to press further.  She wanted to know how many days…when were they planning to start.  But, she reminded herself it was Christmas Eve.  How would she feel if Roy were called away from his family celebration to help with a rescue?  Then she reminded herself that was his job, and it was who he was….and one of the reasons she loved him.

Paul couldn’t help but feel sorry for these people.  The fact was, he was planning to leave his own family just as soon as he got off the phone in order to start organizing a rescue team.  He already had a few people willing to help tonight and tomorrow, but he knew the majority of his volunteers probably would not get back to him until after Christmas.  “Mrs. Desoto, now that the snow has stopped, I’m hoping to be able to get back to the cabin in three to five days.”

Three to five days.  It felt like an eternity.  “Thank you, Mr. Klinefelter.”  There was a brief exchange on the other end of the phone.

“Mrs. Desoto, your husband would like to say one more thing.  Hang on.”  He held the receiver to the radio’s speaker.

Tears spilled into Jennifer’s honey scented hair as Joanne clung to the next words she heard. 

“I love you, honey…”

“I love you, Mom.”

“Love you…”  Joanne handed the receiver to the hand that appeared as if my magic in front of her.  It belonged to Marie Stanley, who spoke briefly to the ranger, and quickly ended the call.

Joanne remained kneeling on the floor, hugging Jennifer tightly while the two of them cried.

“I miss Daddy.  I want him to come home.”  Jennifer sobbed, her tiny voice muffled by Joanne’s blouse.

“We all miss your Daddy, sweetheart.”  Hank’s soothing tones caught them by surprise, causing them to look up.  He was kneeling on the floor beside them.  “And Chris.  But the important thing to remember is that they’re safe and even though it’s hard to be patient, they’ll be home soon.”

Joanne made eye contact with Marie.  “Jenny…why don’t you go with Mrs. Stanley?  You can show her your new book about Baby Jesus.”

Catching onto the hint, Marie quickly complied.  “I’d love to see your book, Jennifer!  Would you like me to read it to you?”

“I wanna read it to you!”  Jennifer beamed, taking Marie by the hand and leading her to her bedroom.

With Jennifer in good hands, and out of earshot, Joanne filled Hank and Chet in on what Roy had told her about Johnny.

Chet rubbed the back of his neck, his moustache twitching slightly in concern.  “If I know Roy, he probably left out a few details, knowing the kids were listening and all.”

“Well, and don’t forget, Johnny was sitting right there beside him.  He talked to us a little.”

“He did?”  Hank’s eyebrows shot up.  He hadn’t been paying that close of attention, wanting to give Joanne and Jennifer their privacy.

“Yes…”  Joanne confirmed.  “And he sounded…I don’t know...tired.”

Hank nodded, his hazel eyes crinkling in empathy.  “Well, I’m sure it’s been an ordeal.  But from what we’ve been told, it could have been a lot worse.”

Joanne’s hands went to her eyes, as tears began forming again.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Chet excused himself, figuring his captain was better equipped to help Joanne.  “Well, I’m going to have a few more of these cookies.  They’re really good, Jo!”

Joanne smiled despite her emotion, sniffling.  “They’re not homemade, Chet.”  She had bought the cookies earlier today after Marie called her to see if they could come over.

“Well, someone had to make them!”  Chet joked, as he popped a whole macaroon into his mouth and walked out to the kitchen to whip up his Grandma Kelly’s famous Irish soda scones.

As soon as they were alone, Joanne looked up into the understanding eyes of her husband’s captain, and their good friend.  He had such a way of making her feel comfortable and safe, and Joanne supposed that’s one of the things that made him so good at his job.  “Oh, Hank…I know it’s selfish…but I didn’t want them to go on this trip.  It’s so far away…and this close to Christmas…”

“It’s not selfish, Joanne.”

“Yes it is.”  Joanne sniffed.  “Roy deserves to have some time alone with his son.  They never get that, and it’s a good thing…it’s just that…well, there have been Christmases that Roy hasn’t been here…”

“But this is the first time Chris hasn’t been here.”

“Yes!”  Hank had hit the nail on the head.  “That wasn’t supposed to happen until he grew up!  And…I don’t know, Hank…he just…he seems to be handling it so well.”

“Maybe just trying to be brave for his Mom’s sake.”  Hank offered.

“But that’s just it!  He’s growing up.  I know I should be proud…”

“Yes, you should.”  Hank thought of his own daughters, already grown and out of the house.  He would see them tomorrow, but Christmas just wasn’t the same anymore.

“And I am…but…he’s nine years old.  And I don’t know where that time went!  In another nine years, he’ll be going off to college, leaving home.  And I just…I just want to savor every moment I have with him until then, you know?  And Christmas…”

“Has its own set of rules.”

“I’m sorry, Hank.”  Joanne thought of the things Hank and her husband saw in their work every day.  She immediately felt guilty thinking of the families Station 51 had surely seen this week that were torn apart by injury, sickness, and death.  At least her family was healthy and safe.  She reminded herself she needed to be thankful for that.

Hank gathered Joanne into his arms for a fatherly hug.  “Nothing to be sorry for, dear.”  He held her a moment, knowing any measure of comfort he could offer would never replace the strong arms she needed to feel around her.  After parting, he smiled down at her.  “I’d better go out to the kitchen and check on Chet.  You have no idea what trouble that man can cause when he’s cooking.”

Joanne laughed, grateful for the change in subject.  “And I better go rescue Marie.  I’m sure Jennifer will read her whole library to her if I don’t.”

“Right.”  Hank smiled as he made his way to the kitchen, unshed tears glistening in his eyes as he remembered Christmases past.  He knew Marie was enjoying this time just as much as Jennifer was…maybe even more.

E    E    E 

It was getting late and the hunters sat near the fireplace in the main room of the cabin.  Kel occupied one chair, and Roy sat in the other, with Chris sitting on the floor in front of him, between his feet.  Johnny still slouched on the couch.  Despite the lack of traditional Christmas festivity and anticipation, no one had really wanted to go to bed just yet.  Chris had made some more popcorn, and this time seasoned it with butter and salt.  They enjoyed the gingerbread and some other treats Jesse Carpenter had brought them, including the fixings for s’mores and hot cocoa.  Even Johnny had managed to eat some of the tempting snacks.

They spent their time talking about some of the more daring rescues Roy and Johnny had been on and reminiscing about past Christmases.  Johnny spent most of the time listening as Roy, Chris, and Kel spoke fondly of family traditions and memories.  Roy assumed Johnny’s quiet demeanor was a result of pain.

“You okay, Johnny?”

Johnny looked up at the sound of his voice, as if startled.  “Huh?  Yeah…I’m okay.”  He shifted his position slightly with a wince and did his best to defer attention away from his predicament.  “I could use one more of those chocolate marshmallow things, though.”  He didn’t really feel hungry, but they were good, and Johnny knew Chris enjoyed making them.

“They’re called s’mores, Uncle Johnny.”  Chris crawled over to the fire and began spearing a marshmallow onto a long fork.

“Well then let’s have s’more.”  Johnny quipped.

Chris quickly browned the marshmallow and assembled the sticky treat.  He was only too happy to feed it to Johnny,  both laughing at the mess they were making.

Kel laughed at their antics, then turned his arm over to look at his watch.  It was just after midnight.  “Merry Christmas, fellas.”

“Merry Christmas.”  The unison chorus hung in the air.  It seemed so anticlimactic, no fanfare, no singing, nothing but the warmth of a fire and each other’s company.

Finally, Chris broke the silence.  “Hey, Dad?  Since I don’t believe in Santa anymore, do I get to know if I’m getting the rock ‘em sock ‘em robots I wanted?”

“Rock ‘em sock ‘em robots?”  Johnny asked.  “I think that’s what Chet asked Santa for this year.”

Roy scoffed.  “I wouldn’t be surprised.”  Then, giving his son’s hair a tousle, he added, “But as for you…just because you’re too big for Santa doesn’t mean you can’t have surprises anymore.  You’re just going to have to wait.”

Chris smiled, glad in a way that he had something to look forward to when they got home, other than seeing his mother and sister of course.  “Okay, Dad.”  He watched the fire as he tossed some more popcorn into his mouth.  His mind mulled over past Christmases, and he realized he couldn’t think of anything he had ever really wanted that “Santa” hadn’t provided.  Armed with new knowledge that Santa was a myth, he reasoned that probably not every child was as fortunate as he and Jennifer were.  “Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Was there ever anything you really wanted for Christmas?  Something you asked Santa for…and never got?”

Roy took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.  He had to go back quite a few years for that one, but it didn’t take long for one particular Christmas to move to the forefront of his memory.  He had never shared this with his son, of course, wanting to allow him to hold onto his childlike faith in Santa for as long as could.  “Yes, Chris…there was.  I was eight years old.  Just a little younger than you are.  My Dad was in Korea, working as a surgeon in a M.A.S.H. unit…”

“Like Hawkeye?”  Chris often watched the television show with Roy.  He was excited to learn that his grandfather had apparently been part of an actual mobile army surgical hospital.

Roy laughed softly, noticing he also had Johnny and Kel’s rapt attention.  “Yes, Chris.  Like Hawkeye.”

Johnny’s eyebrow rose inquisitively.  There was a lot about his partner he didn’t know.  Then again, he hadn’t exactly been verbose about his past on the reservation either.  “You never told me your father was a surgeon.”

“Well, now you know.”  Roy caught Kel’s eye for a brief moment, an action not lost on Johnny who couldn’t help but feel a bit out of the loop.  Then, he quickly reminded himself that Roy had known Kelly Brackett before he knew him, that the doctor had been a mentor of sorts.  He supposed there were probably a lot of things Kel knew about Roy that he didn’t, just like there were things Hank Stanley knew about him that Roy didn’t.

“Anyway…”  Roy continued.  “This would have been…1951.  We all wished for an end to the war so Dad could come home for Christmas, but Mom was determined to make things great for us anyway.  We were just about ready to go out and get, as Mom called it, ‘the biggest Christmas tree we could find’ when the phone rang.  It was Father MacDonald, the chaplain of the M.A.S.H. unit where Dad was deployed.”

A lump formed in Johnny’s throat as he waited for Roy to continue.  He knew Roy’s father had passed away when he was very young, but he had never told him the circumstances.

“I remember Mom getting that phone call, and then a few minutes later, our neighbor came over and got dinner for my brother and me.  Mom spent the rest of the night in her room, and I wasn’t sure what was going on, until I heard her crying.”  Roy paused at the memory.  “Later, Mom told me that Dad’s unit had come under enemy fire.  He was killed trying to protect a soldier he was operating on.”

“Dad…”  Chris was sorry he had brought this up.

“It’s okay, son.  It was a long time ago.”  A sensation of warmth washed over Roy.  It felt right to be sharing this moment with Chris and his friends.  “Anyway, that year I had asked Santa for a chemistry set.  It was the only thing I wanted.  But, needless to say, Mom wasn’t much in the mood for Christmas.  We never did get the tree, and there were no presents from Santa that year.  My little brother was too young to really understand. But for me…that was the year I found out there was no Santa.”

No one said a word for a while, no one really knowing what to say until finally Kel saw this as an opportunity for all of them to learn some secrets about one another.  “For me it was 1940.  I was seven years old and I used to listen to The Lone Ranger on the radio every Saturday night.  That year, I asked Santa for a Buffalo Bill eight inch cap pistol.  It was a 50 shot repeater, the latest thing.  Well, my Dad worked as a loan officer at a bank.  I didn’t really understand what was going on at the time, but I found out later the bank had been struggling for several years.  They had hoped to be able to hold on until after the war was over, but I guess it just wasn’t to be.  I remember my parents sitting me down one night and explaining to me that I wouldn’t be getting the cap gun that year because my Dad had lost his job.  I couldn’t understand how that had anything to do with Christmas, because after all, it was Santa who brought the gifts, not Dad…”

“So, your parents had to tell you there was no Santa?”  Chris was beginning to feel very blessed.

“That’s right, son.  What a way to find out, huh?”  Kel remembered how he had cried and cried in his mother’s arms that night, and how she had explained to him how bad his father felt about things.  She convinced him that he needed to be strong for his Dad, needed to let him know that he wasn’t ashamed of him.

“So, did you ever get your cap gun?”  Roy asked.

“Nope.  Dad was never able to get a job making the kind of money we had been used to.  He worked in a shirt factory for a while, making minimum wage, and most Christmases after that, my sisters and I knew not to ask for much.  That was one of the reasons I decided to become a doctor.  I figured no matter how hard things got, people would always get sick…and always need doctors.”

“That’s true, Dr. Brackett.”  Chris agreed.  He looked over at Johnny, who had been strangely quiet throughout this discussion.  “What about you, Uncle Johnny?”

Johnny was staring down at his hands, which were resting on a pillow in his lap.  He didn’t seem to hear Chris’ question.

“Uncle Johnny?” 

“Chris, maybe Johnny doesn’t feel like talking about that right now.”  Roy wasn’t sure what kind of Christmases Johnny celebrated growing up on a reservation.  Being a Christian holiday, he wasn’t sure Johnny would have celebrated Christmas at all.

“It’s okay…”  Johnny heaved a sigh and looked up.  There wasn’t much to tell, really.  It was just that this discussion reminded him of things he had spent much of his life trying to forget.  “Santa didn’t come to the reservation, Chris.  So, I guess there’s really nothing that I wanted and didn’t get, because I never asked for anything.”

“You never believed in Santa at all?”  Chris was incredulous.

“Chris…” Roy warned.  He knew his son was not trying to be intrusive, but he wondered if he was opening a can of worms that was better left closed tight.

“Roy, it’s okay.”  Johnny assured.  It wasn’t that he wanted to talk about it, but he knew Chris meant no harm.  “No, sport.  I never believed in Santa.”

“Did any of the kids?”  Chris just couldn’t imagine a world where children didn’t lie awake on Christmas Eve, unable to sleep, thinking about what Santa would leave in their stockings.

Johnny stretched his legs slightly, as if to relieve a cramp.  “Well you see, Chris…the families that lived on the rez…the reservation…we didn’t have much money.  Christmas was something the whites celebrated.  We didn’t really think about it all that much.”

Chris continued to be curious.  “So, you knew what Christmas was…and Santa…”

“Yes, Chris.  I knew what it was.  My mama used to tell me the Christmas story every year on Christmas Eve.  I used to sit on her lap and she would read to me out of the Bible, and then she would tell me the story in her own words.  It was one of the things I really missed after she… after she died.”

Roy watched his friend carefully.  The only time he had ever heard him mention his parents was one day after a teenage girl they brought into Rampart died from an overdose of secobarbital.  Her mother had refused to believe her daughter had been mixed up in drugs, and Johnny said that his parents weren’t that indifferent.  Roy had often wondered if they were still alive.  Now, he was curious, but knew he probably shouldn’t push the subject.  On the other hand, there would probably never be a more opportune time.  “How old were you, Johnny?  When she…”

Johnny’s eyes fell to his lap again, his jaw tensing.  “I was ten.  My dad died a year later.”  It was all he offered, and he hoped no one would ask any more of him.

Kel spoke up now.  “I’m sorry, Johnny.  I had no idea…”

“It’s okay, Doc.  I don’t really talk about it.”  Johnny’s silence indicated he still did not want to.

“Well, I guess that’s okay.”  Chris decided.  “I mean…Santa’s not the real meaning of Christmas anyway.”

Johnny began speaking then, not really sure what drew it out of him.  It was something he had never shared with anyone, and really never expected to.  It was as if some surreal force took over his voice, compelling him to speak, and he was helpless to stop it.  “One day…I think I was about five years old…my mama and papa took me into town to shop for a pair of shoes.  Mama had made some money selling a quilt she had made, and that was what they had decided to spend it on, I guess.  It was Christmastime, and ‘Santa’ was at the store.  There was a long line of kids there, waiting to talk to him.  A few of the kids came up to me, making fun of me because I was Indian.”  Johnny’s stomach twisted at the memory.

Roy also felt sick.  He supposed there was a part of him that knew Johnny was probably subjected to racial prejudice at some point during his life.  But hearing Johnny speak about it made him angry.  A fierce sort of protectiveness welled up inside him.  “Johnny, you don’t have to…”

But Johnny continued as if he didn’t hear.  “They asked me why I wasn’t waiting in line to see Santa.  I told them Santa didn’t come to my house, so why should I bother talking to him.”

“Johnny…”  Roy had a feeling this story did not have a happy ending.

“They laughed at me then…called me names.  They told me if Santa didn’t come to my house that meant I was bad.  That it was only bad kids that Santa didn’t visit.”

“But you knew it was just because there was no Santa, right Uncle Johnny?  You knew the truth.”  Chris didn’t want to think about how he would feel if kids had teased him and told him what those children had told Johnny.

“I tried to tell them that.  But they convinced me my parents lied to me.  That the real reason Santa didn’t come was because I was bad, and that they didn’t want me to know that.  They told me not to tell my parents what they told me, or I would hurt their feelings.  So, for years, I wondered what I did wrong.  I tried…”  Johnny’s voice cracked as it trailed off.  “I tried to be good…I really did…”

Roy decided this conversation was over.  He was concerned about Johnny.  He no longer seemed to be with them, but instead, his mind seemed to be locked somewhere in the past.  It had to be.  There was no way his normally taciturn partner would be sharing these things otherwise.  Maybe he was delirious from fever or pain.  He stood up and walked over to the couch.  Kneeling down, he rested a hand on Johnny’s shaking arm.  “Johnny?”

Johnny let out a shaky sigh and gathered himself together.  “I’m sorry, Roy.  I don’t…I don’t know why I said all that…”

Roy was relieved that Johnny appeared okay, and he figured maybe one of the best gifts they both would receive this Christmas was the knowledge that they could be open with one another without fear or shame.  “It’s all right.  How are you feeling?”

Johnny looked over Roy’s shoulder at Chris.  The boy’s head was bowed, and Johnny couldn’t make out his features.  It almost looked as if he were praying.  Keeping his voice a whisper, he admitted. “I’m hurtin’…pretty bad.”

Roy shot a look at Kel and then addressed his son without taking his eyes off Johnny.  “Chris, time for bed.”

Chris knew that the memories Johnny had revealed were painful for him, and while he was sorry he had initiated the conversation, in some unexplainable way, he felt glad, almost…peaceful about what had been shared here tonight.  He headed for his bedroom without argument.  “Okay, Dad.  Good night.”

As soon as Chris was gone, Johnny’ level of discomfort became apparent.  His hands were killing him, and he could no longer find a comfortable position due to the pain in his side and the cramping in his back.  It was so bad, he felt nauseous, and his breath came in short pants as he tried to deal with it.

“Johnny, talk to me.”  Roy’s fingers counted a pulse which was way too fast.

“Just…help me…lie down.”

Kel assisted Roy in helping Johnny recline on the couch, tucking pillows as they went in an attempt to make him as comfortable as possible.  With all the talk of melancholy Christmas memories tonight, he was sure that Christmas 1975 was sure to end up high on the list of Christmases Johnny would just as soon forget.  Once Johnny was settled, Kel went to retrieve his bag.  A decision would need to be made regarding the medication he had left.

Roy took the blanket which earlier had been draped across Johnny’s legs, and covered him with it, tucking it securely over his shoulders.  His thoughts drifted to an innocent boy, a boy who tried his best to be good only to needlessly be reminded year after year that he wasn’t.  As cruel as that was, it explained volumes about the enigma which was John Gage.  Roy had never in his life met anyone so openly eager to do good, only to end up being the butt of the joke, or disappointed because something just didn’t work out the way it should.  And yet he seemed to accept it with sort of a practiced ease.

Roy remembered the time Chet had allowed Johnny to take all the blame for blowing up the station’s television set, and how bad Johnny had felt about it.  He had tried so hard to get them a good deal on a new one, and had been so excited to be able to secure a “big screen” at a bargain price.  But, then Roy remembered the look on Johnny’s face when the big screen turned out to be in centimeters instead of inches, and the inevitable ribbing that his partner took.  He cringed at the thought, wishing now he hadn’t joined in.  Then, Johnny had donated the television set from his own apartment, laughing it off through some exaggerated macho posturing. 

There were numerous other times too, now streaming back into Roy’s consciousness.  It often seemed as though nothing could go right for the hapless paramedic.  But that had never stopped Johnny’s raging compassion, his almost obsessive plight to do the right thing.  Roy sighed and leaned in close to his friend’s ear.  “Maybe we should ask Santa for some morphine…what do you think?”  Roy saw Kel standing with the syringe, and that was who he was jokingly referring to. It was an attempt to lighten the moment.  But as soon as the words left his mouth, Roy realized they didn’t sound right.  In fact, they sounded almost….mocking.  He stepped aside so Kel could administer the last of the precious drug.

Johnny winced at the needle stick, but said nothing.  He continued to shift and moan, leeching what comfort he could from the sensation of Roy’s hand on his back, until finally, he could feel the narcotic taking effect.

Roy watched as Johnny’s eyelids drooped and his breathing evened out, becoming slower and deeper.  Leaning in closer, he left his hand resting on Johnny’s back as he spoke words only intended for his friend to hear.  “Don’t worry, Santa knows you’ve been good this year.”  Roy paused, cursing his inability to tell his friend what he really wanted him to know.  Swallowing his hesitation, he continued. “You’re a good firefighter, and an even better paramedic.  And you’re the best friend a man could ask for.  You’re probably the most ethical, considerate, honest person I’ve ever met.  You’re a good person, Johnny.  And don’t you ever let anyone tell you different.”  He looked up to see Kel walking out of the bedroom.

“He asleep?”

Roy looked back down at his friend.  “Yeah, I think so.”

“That was the last of the morphine.”

Roy sighed.  “I know.  He needs to rest though…”

Kel’s brow furrowed into a concerned frown.  “Roy…it could get pretty bad…”

“Then, we’ll just have to help him get through it.”  Roy settled onto the chair, wrapping a blanket around himself.  He watched as Kel added some more logs to the fireplace before padding off to bed.

“Let me know if you need me.  He’ll probably sleep all night.”

“Yeah…okay…”  Roy stared at the fire.  At least one of them would.  He thought about getting up to check on Chris as he closed his eyes…just for a second.  When he opened them again, it was morning.

E    E    E 

Roy yawned and stretched, unable to believe he had slept through the night.  He looked over at the couch and was pleased to find Johnny still curled up on his side, covers still tucked tight around his shoulders as Roy had left them.  He looked at his watch.  Nine thirty.  If they had been at home, he wondered how early Chris and Jennifer would have had him up this morning.  His thoughts settled on his wife and daughter long enough to cause his throat to tighten before he forced himself on to other thoughts.  Ambling quietly, so as not to wake Johnny, Roy made his way into Chris’ room and was surprised to find him lying in his bed wide awake.  “Merry Christmas, son.”

“Merry Christmas.”  Chris whispered back.  “Anyone else up?”

“Johnny’s still sleeping.  Pretty sure Dr. Brackett is too.”  Roy took a seat on the bed.

“Dad…can we go out and make a snowman this morning?”

Roy’s eyes squinted into a smile.  “I think maybe we could do that.  But, how about we get some breakfast first?”

Chris sat upright.  “Okay.”

Roy stood and made his way toward the curtained doorway.  “Remember, keep it down.  I want your Uncle Johnny to sleep as long as he can.”

“Okay, Dad.”  Chris followed his father a few steps, then stopped.  “Dad?”

“What, Chris?”

“Is Uncle Johnny okay?”

Roy hesitated, unsure of what exactly Chris was talking about.  He wondered if he was referring to Johnny’s physical or emotional well being.  “Johnny’s fine.  His injuries are healing…”

“No...”  Chris interrupted.  “I meant…well…he sounded like he was almost ready to cry last night.  That was really mean what those kids did to him.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I didn’t mean to make him remember…”

Roy planted a hand on Chris’ shoulder.  “Chris…he doesn’t blame you.  I think it might be good that he got some of that out.  Sometimes, talking about bad things that happen…helps people to deal with them.”

“Okay.”  Chris pondered his Dad’s explanation, then asked meekly, “Dad?  Do you ever cry?”

The question hit Roy in the throat.  He wasn’t prepared for it.  He cleared his throat and shifted his weight slightly.  “Uh...sure I do, Chris.  Sometimes…if Johnny and I get a really bad run, or we lose a patient…well, sometimes when we get back to the station…well, I’ve cried.”

“Uncle Johnny too?”

“Yep, Uncle Johnny too.”

Chris wanted to ask Roy for an example, but thought better of it.  Instead, he headed out to the kitchen in time to see Kel already starting coffee.  “Merry Christmas, Dr. Brackett.”

“Merry Christmas.”  Kel whispered as he spooned coffee grounds into the percolator.

Johnny awoke several minutes later as the aroma of coffee stimulated his olfactory nerves.  He blinked open his eyes, and licked his peeling lips.  Man, my mouth is dry.  He became aware of an intense pounding in his head, and reminded himself that morphine had a pretty reliable tendency to make him feel hung over.  The way he felt, Kel must have given him plenty.  Trying to roll over onto his back roused his jaggy nerves and he groaned discontentedly.

Roy sat the plates down on the table and went to the couch.  He wanted to wish his friend a merry Christmas, but the way he probably felt, the greeting almost seemed sarcastic.  He settled instead on something a bit more benign.  “Morning.  The sleepyhead lives.”

“Very funny, Roy.”  Johnny’s words were slurred.

“How do you feel?”  Roy’s tone was light, but concerned.

Johnny took stock.  His hands ached, but not as badly as they did last night.  He knew it was only a matter of time, though, before they started throbbing again.  Nausea crept up the back of his throat at the thought.  His side was sore, but it was bearable as long as he didn’t move around too much.  The same thing went for his back.  There was one thing, though.  “Not bad.  A little cold.”

No one had seemed to notice that the fire in the fireplace was now reduced to smoldering coals.  Since everyone had slept all night, there had been no one to keep it going.  “Looks like we need some more wood.  I’ll go get some.  Do you want another blanket in the meantime?”

Johnny sat up stiffly, with a sharp intake of breath.  As soon as he could speak, he shook his head.  “No…just hurry.” 

Roy wrapped Johnny’s blanket tight around his shoulders.  “Okay, sit tight.  And if you want to move, let Kel or I help you, all right?”

“Roy…I’m not helpless.”  Johnny’s gaze followed Roy’s until it settled on his useless hands.  “Nevermind.  Just get the wood.”

Roy stepped quickly to the door.  “Chris?  Wanna help me bring some wood in?”

“Sure, Dad.”  Chris relinquished his spatula, allowing Kel to take over pancake duty.  He put on his coat and met Roy at the door, pulling it open.  “What the…”

Roy looked down at whatever had caught Chris’ eye.  “What is it?”

“Roy?”  Kel looked up from the stove.

Roy couldn’t believe what he saw.  One look at Chris’ confused expression told him he was thinking the same thing.  “Presents…”

Kel was curious now.  He turned off the burner and moved to see what the commotion was.  “What?”

“Presents.  Look!”  Chris pointed at the brightly wrapped packages sitting on the porch just outside the door.

“Well, where did they come from?”  Kel opened the door and stepped outside.

“I don’t know…”  Roy followed.  “Mr. Carpenter, maybe?”

“Must have been!”  Chris picked up a present and read the tag.  “This one’s for you, Dad!”

“For me?  What in the world…”  Roy took the box from Chris.

“Hey, what’s going on?”  Johnny peered over the back of the couch as he pulled the blanket tighter around him.  He had been cold before and now the door was hanging open.

“I’m sorry, Johnny.  Hang on.”  Roy stepped down onto the porch, closing the door behind him.  He quickly loaded his arms with firewood amidst exclamations from Chris as he excitedly read gift tags.  Making his way back inside, he built the fire back up, and then wrapped another blanket around Johnny’s shoulders while they waited for it to warm up again.  “Better?”

Johnny could actually feel the chill eating its way deep into his bones.  “Yeah…thanks.  Did I hear you say there were presents on the porch?”

“Yeah.  Mr. Carpenter must have brought them.”

Johnny’s eyebrows knitted.  “Huh.  Wonder why he didn’t knock.”

“I don’t know.  Maybe he didn’t want to wake us.”  Roy and Johnny looked up at the sound of the opening door.

“Uncle Johnny!  There’s a whole bunch of presents for you!”  Chris exclaimed excitedly as he burst through the door, his arms full.  He walked over to the couch and sat his load down on the floor in front of Johnny.

“What?  For me?”  Johnny looked down at the stack.

“Yep!”

Roy sat down on the chair with his own box, and Kel did the same.  Roy eyed the pile in front of Johnny as he spoke to Chris.  “Well what are you waiting for?  Help your Uncle Johnny open his gifts!”

Johnny shifted uncomfortably.  “Wait…wait a minute.  Why do I have so many?”

Kel smiled.  “Maybe Santa figured he owed you a few.”

“Owed me…”  Johnny puzzled over the meaning behind Kel’s comment before realizing he must have meant Santa was making up for all the years he didn’t come to his house as a child.  That would make sense, he supposed, if Santa had actually been the one to bring these.  He chuckled softly.  “Yeah…maybe…” 

“Want me to help you Uncle Johnny?”

“Sure, sport.  But, let’s all open our gifts.”  Johnny felt awkward with the others watching him.  He looked at Kel and Roy for their approval.

The others expressed their agreement, and suddenly there was a cacophony of ripping paper.  Brightly colored gift wrap settled amidst hushed exclamations of awe and confusion.

“A chemistry set…”

“A Buffalo Bill cap gun…”

Johnny had received various toys that he remembered seeing in the store the day his parents took him into town.  He had secretly wished for them, even writing Santa a letter and sneaking off the reservation to mail it.  Of course, Santa never delivered the requested items.  But there was one gift that rendered him almost speechless.  Once the lid was removed from the box, his breath caught.  It was a Bible with a carved wooden cover.  Allowing his eyes to trace the intricate pattern, he was able to choke out, “It looks just like Mama’s…”

The room was silent as each person pondered what had just happened. 

Finally, Chris broke the silence.  “Mr. Carpenter brought the gifts.  It had to be him.”

“Right, Chris.”  Roy agreed, not sounding very convincing.  “It had to be.”

“But how did he know…”  Chris’ words trailed off as a chill skittered up his spine.

Again, the hunters sat in silence.  No one had the answer to Chris’ question.

Kel turned the cap gun over in his hand thoughtfully.  He couldn’t believe what he was about to say.  “Uh…when Chris and I were out on the porch, I had a look around.  There were no footprints in the snow.  I thought it was kind of odd…”

“Well maybe the snow drifted, and covered them up.”  Roy offered.

“But it’s not windy.”  Chris countered, causing silence to befall the room once again.

The men sat speechless for a long while, no one knowing quite what to make of their mysterious visitor.  After all, someone needed to deliver the gifts.  Finally, Roy realized there was one person who had not opened anything.  In all the excitement and confusion, he hadn’t noticed until now, and his heart ached with the intensity of a parent who would do anything to prevent his son from being hurt.  “Chris?  Was there anything out there for you?”

“No, Dad.”

Roy felt terrible, but Chris didn’t sound disappointed in the least.  In fact, he was smiling.  “Chris?”

“Well, the way I see it…”  Chris explained, “All of you got the things you wanted most for Christmas, but never got.  Well, except for your Bible, Uncle Johnny.”

Johnny spoke up now, for the first time since he’d opened the precious gift.  “Actually, Chris…that Bible reminds me of the only thing I’ve wanted for Christmas every year since Mama died.”

Chris looked around at the emotion filled, yet still confused faces of the others.  “Don’t you see?  I realized last night how lucky I’ve been.  I can’t think of anything I ever asked Santa for that I didn’t get.  And now, I know why.”  He looked at Roy.  “It’s because you and Mom can afford to buy the things that Jennifer and I want.”

“I guess you’re right, Chris.”  Roy thought back to the years that Chris made lists a mile long, asking for nearly everything he saw in the Sears catalogue.  In truth, there were years Chris did not get everything he wanted, but still, Roy could see his point.  “I still feel bad you had nothing to open.”

Chris was still smiling.  “Don’t.  See, last night…I wished that all of you could have the things that you always wanted.  I know it seems kind of silly…you’re all grown up men now…”

“It’s not silly, Chris.”  As insightful as Chris seemed to be, Johnny wasn’t sure if he could really understand just how meaningful and significant these seemingly useless things were.

“Anyway,” Chris continued, “That’s what I wanted most this year…for all of you to be as happy as I am every Christmas.  So, I guess you could say…I got my gift too.”

Roy thought pride would overflow his heart.  He stood and gathered Chris into his arms and hugged him tightly.  “I’m so proud of you, son.”

The moment was abruptly blighted by a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice.  “It’s Paul Klinefelter!  Everyone all right in there?”

Kel hurried to the door and opened it.  Standing on the porch was the ranger and someone he didn’t recognize.  He shook hands with Paul and invited the men inside.  “You sure are a sight for sore eyes.  We weren’t expecting you for at least another few days.”

“Well, if you want, we can leave…”  Paul joked.

“No…no…that’s okay.”  Kel took a step back, allowing room for both men to step completely inside.

“This is Dr. Harrigan.  He came with me in case you needed any help with your injured friend.”  Paul moved over to the fire while the young, sandy-haired doctor further introduced himself.

Kel filled in his new colleague on Johnny’s injuries.  “He had an accident on his snowmobile and had an arrow impaled in his left side.  I was able to remove it, and suture the wound.  I don’t think it caused any internal damage, other than a probable fractured rib, but I’d like him to have some X-rays and a full set of labs to be sure.  He sprained his back, I think.  And he had a fever the other night.  I’ve been giving him some oral penicillin tabs that I had with me.  I’d like to put him on IV antibiotics for a few days to be on the safe side, depending what his labs show.”  The doctor allowed Harrigan a moment to digest this information.

Harrigan had already moved to where Johnny was sitting.  “And his hands?”

“Frostbite.”  Kel answered.  “So far there doesn’t seem to be any sign of permanent tissue damage, but he’s had a lot of pain.  Your timing couldn’t be more perfect.  I just gave him the last of the narcotics I had with me last night.”

Harrigan knelt down in front of Johnny.  “How are you feeling now?”

“Pretty sore.”  Johnny breathed out, relieved beyond belief to see these men.  His hands had been hurting pretty badly all morning, and he figured the others probably knew, but no words were exchanged.  Johnny hadn’t wanted to complain, and the others had been trying to distract him.

“Well, I have some morphine in my bag.  I’ll give you a little before we head out.  Unfortunately, I can’t give you too much, because I don’t want you falling asleep and falling off the back of the snowmobile.”

Johnny laughed.  “No thank you.  I’m not ready to do that again.”

“Snowmobile?”  Roy wondered. 

“That’s right.”  Paul confirmed.  “We’ll have to ride on snowmobiles to where the landslide is.  From there, we have just enough space to get through, and we can ride out the rest of the way in Jeeps.  I’ll take care of getting your rentals back once the rest of the road is cleared.  And if you let me know how you want the elk butchered, I’ll take care of that too, and have the meat shipped to you.”

Roy thanked the ranger, then wondered, “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get here so fast?  Not that we’re complaining…”

Roy’s comment brought laughter all around.  Paul explained, “Well, it was sort of a strange thing.  Right after I got off the radio with you, I met up with the volunteers I had and we drove out to the lower road.  When we got there, it looked like half of Lemhi County was there with snowplows and digging equipment.  I couldn’t believe so many had come out on Christmas Eve, and no one seemed to want to admit who was responsible for rounding everyone up.”

“Hmm.”  Roy pondered.  “Well whoever it was, we’re sure glad they did.  Please be sure to thank everyone who helped.”

“Will do.”  Paul noticed the tree.  “Well…it looks like you all managed to have yourself a pretty nice Christmas, despite being stranded up here.”

“We did have a nice Christmas, sir!”  Chris chimed in.  Then he remembered Johnny.  “Sorry, Uncle Johnny.  I know it wasn’t that much fun for you…”

“Actually, Chris…”  Johnny winced as he sat up a little straighter.  “I think it was the best Christmas I ever had.”

“Me too.”  Roy agreed.

“Me three.”  Kel added from the other room as he rolled his sleeping bag.  Once he was finished, he brought it and his backpack out of the bedroom.  “Paul…you wouldn’t happen to know a man by the name of Jesse Carpenter…”

Paul rubbed his chin, thinking.  “Carpenter…no, doesn’t ring a bell.”

Kel went on to tell him about their mysterious visitor, leaving out the uncanny circumstances surrounding the gifts they had received. 

The ranger shook his head.  “Sorry, guys.  I can’t think of anyone in the area that fits that description.  And none of the other cabins around here are occupied right now.  Leastwise as far as I know.”

The subject was not breached again as bags were packed and snowmobiles were loaded.  Johnny was helped onto Paul’s, where he sat nestled between the ranger and Kel.  It was bound to be a rough ride, but he was thankful to be on his way to a soft, warm bed.

Roy sat behind Chris, who was holding on around Harrigan’s waist.  He took one last look at the cabin and couldn’t help but wonder just what had happened up here.  The surrounding woods seemed to harbor secrets all their own.  It was a Christmas to remember, that was for sure.  But, Roy knew without a doubt that Christmas 1975 would forever be etched into memory as the year he got to know his son a little better, and became proud of the man he was quickly becoming.  As the snowmobiles sped through the snow, the scenery racing past reminded Roy of how fast the years fly by, and that each Christmas is just one tiny morsel of time. He thought back through all the Christmases he and his mother and brother had spent without his father, and holding tightly onto Chris, he savored this moment.  All too soon, it would be gone forever.

The End

Author’s notes:  As always, mucho thanks and cyber hugs to the best friend and beta in the world!  Mary Ann, cowboy Kel was my Christmas gift to you!  (Well, not really.  I still need to mail that.)  Sorry I didn’t leave Johnny naked for the whole story.  Maybe next time.

Readers:  Take this story wherever you want it to go.  Jesse Carpenter was obviously a blatant Christmas symbol.  (Initials J.C., carpenter, white hair and beard).  I intended to leave some unanswered questions in this story so you could form your own assumptions.  Who exactly was the mysterious stranger?  Where did the gifts come from?  That’s up to you to decide…

Thanks for reading!

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Christmas Stories              Stories by Morningwolf