They found themselves in a living room. At first glance, it was shabby. The sofa and ottoman had tears that had been stitched; the walls needed painting, and the blue rug underfoot was worn flat and gray in places.
But the feeling of happiness and love that permeated the place was unmistakable. There was great joy here. The room practically glowed with it.
A tree stood centered in the large picture window, and around it were two adults and three children. They were decorating it with shining strands of silver. Balls of every color and strings of lights already adorned the tree.
The children laughed as they threw bits of silver at the tree and watched it cling to the branches and shine.
Then the man, the father, Gorg surmised, used a stepstool to reach the very top of the tree. On it, he placed a star. The children and mother cheered.
When the mother flipped a switch on the wall, it cast the room into near darkness. The father plugged a cord into a receptacle on the wall and the tree exploded with color and light.
Bulbs of all colors blinked and danced on the tree. It was a spectacle Gorg knew he’d never forget.
The children seemed likely not to forget it either. They jumped up and down and clapped their hands in sheer jubilation, including one familiar brown-haired, blue-eyed boy.
“There! Another wonderful memory. Look how happy you were!” Gorg cried. He felt as happy as the children and had to restrain himself from clapping his hands and waving his tentacles.
Ebenezer smiled, but it was a weak, sad smile. “Yes, this was a great year. We got lots of presents, even though my family didn’t have much money. I don’t know how my parents did it — they must have saved all year to give us a good Christmas.”
“Then why do you look sad? This is a memory you must cherish.”
“This was the last tree we ever decorated. The next year was the one when we lost my mother, and our family was never the same after.” Tears shone in Ebenezer’s eyes. “No more holidays, no more joy. My dad never got over losing her. Every year after, Dad would spend the holiday just sitting at the table drinking and being morose. It’s one of the reasons I stopped going home. Haven’t in years, and now, of course, I’m not welcome.”
Gorg gently wiped the tears away. “Thenthisis the memory you must keep in your heart. The one when she was here, and you were so happy.”
“It’s too damned hard,” Ebenezer said. “The holidays remind me of nothing but sadness.”
“Which is why you need to remember the good times. And youdidhave good times, Ebbie. You had fun, you had joy, and most of all, you had love. It may not have lasted, but you must remember how lucky you were to have had it at all.”
Ebenezer turned and leaned against Gorg, and Gorg immediately wrapped his arms and tentacles around him in a warm embrace.
“Take me home, Gorg. I want to go home now. Please.” Ebenezer’s voice sounded so small, so frail, almost like a boy’s, even to himself, and he was embarrassed by it, but Gorg acquiesced.
“All right. Home, it is.” Gorg thumbed the home button on the device, and the world spun away.
***
It took Ebenezer a while to pull himself together after they got home. The last thing he’d expected when he got up that morning was a trip down memory lane. Yes, he’d forgotten how happy the holidays could have made him, but he felt the pain, too.
“What do you eat?” Ebenezer asked. it was getting late and he was hungry. “Youdoeat, right?”
“Of course I eat! I enjoy cabolfiledgy, and especially monotupealkadfy. Do you know how to make either of those?”
“Um, no. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t even spell them. I know how to call for delivery.”
“I do not know what delivery is…although I am not overly fond of liver in any form.”
Ebenezer laughed in spite of his depression. “No, it’s not liver, it’s…do you like pizza? Everybody likes pizza, right?”
“Pizza?”
“It’s this round dough covered with tomato sauce and cheese. It’s gooey and delicious. Do you eat meat?”
“At times. What sort of meat were you thinking of hunting?”
Ebenezer’s eyes popped open. “I don’t hunt.”
“Then how do you catch your meals?”
