Chapter 4

“I’ll be happy to show you around. We can be a team — I can get you gigs on all the daytime and late-night shows. The paparazzi will go nuts over you. There may even be a television special in the future. A feature film. Merchandising! Action figures, board games… The sky is the limit, but you need to let go of this holiday obsession you have first.”

“Oh no, that is most unacceptable,” Gorg said. “I didn’t fly halfway across the Universe to experience the holidays and end up with the one human who detests them!”

“Then hop back in your spaceship and go find someone else!” Ebenezer cried.

“I can’t. I’ve told you already — my ship was destroyed on entry into your atmosphere. I’m stuck here, and I’m determined to see the holidays.”

“Then find another tour guide.”

“I don’t want another tour guide. I want you.”

“Well, you don’t have me. I don’t want anything to do with the holidays, not anymore.”

“But why? What has happened to destroy your love of them? Surely, you liked them once upon a time?”

Ebenezer started to lie but it stuck in his throat. He shook his head and turned away. “It started a long time ago. Many years back, when I was a child. I lost my faith in all the magic of the holidays back then, and never found it again.”

In a soft voice, Gorg asked, “Tell me about it, Ebbie. Tell me what hurt you so badly.”

“I haven’t spoken about it in years, and I’m not about to start now. To a stranger, no less. Not even to a stranger from another planet who gives excellent reach-arounds.”

Gorg became visibly upset. “Who stole your joy, Ebbie? I must know. It’s a mystery, and I cannot stand leaving mysteries unsolved. Did you know I once missed an entire tri-season of school while doing a multi-dimensional, four-million-piece puzzle because a single piece was missing, and I had to find it? Thank the Purple Gods that I found it wedged between the table and the wall. I wrote such a touching and emotional essay about the experience that it moved my instructors to tears and scored me a passing grade, or I might still be in University trying to pass Rudimentary Starship Navigation.”

“Lovely story. The answer is still no.”

Gorg shook his head. “Something in you is cloaking the truth from you. Surely not every holiday season in your life has been miserable. Humans cannot be born hating the holidays!”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

“How long ago was it that you were a child?”

Ebenezer frowned. “Are you seriously asking me how old I am?”

“I am thirty-two tri-seasons.”

“You don’t look thirty-two.”

“I do not think our years coincide,” Gorg mused. “But I have told you my age. You should return the favor.”

Ebenezer rolled his eyes. “I’m thirty-five. Old for the porn business. I’ll be aging into the Silver Fox category soon. Oh, God. I’ll be a DILF.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“It means Daddy I’d Love to Fuck.”

“Ah. I see. DILF. I’ll need to remember that.” Then Gorg grinned, and it was a smile full of secrets and desire that made Ebenezer feel a little weak in the knees. “Now that we have a baseline for age, we’ll have to test your memories against the truth.”

Ebenezer scowled at him, his recent warmth dissipating. “And exactly how do you expect to do that? My family hasn’t spoken to me in years, not since I went into the adult film industry, and not much before then, either. My friends have deserted me now that I’ve walked out and been replaced, I’m sure. How do you propose to examine my memories, aside from what little I remember?”

Gorg reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device. He pressed a button on it, and a long, thin antenna extended out.

“Oh, hell no! You are not probing me with that thing!” Ebenezer cried. “Ordinarily I don’t mind a good probing, but with a cock not some sort of electronic torture device!”

“Electronic torture device? Oh, this isn’t that sort of apparatus,” Gorg said and laughed. “You thought I was going to probe you? That’s going to make a great anecdote for when I get home.” His tentacles bobbed with the force of his chuckles. “No, no. This is a handheld time-shift processor. It’s the newest technology. Out of all my egg siblings, I was always the one who wanted the most recent gizmos and gadgets on the market. I saw this one on the Abode Buying Network.” He grinned at Ebenezer. “I wondered if it might come in handy on this trip, so I bought it, but I’ve never had a chance to use it until now.”

“Stay away from me with that thing.”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. It doesn’t hurt,” Gorg said. He grabbed Ebenezer’s hand and touched the unit to it.

Ebenezer felt a twinge on the palm of his hand as if it had been scraped.

Then Gorg thumbed a series of buttons on the handheld unit, and everything went fuzzy.

***

They stood on top of a steep, snowy hill. Children were flying down the hill on a variety of conveyances, some rectangular, some square, some round. An angelic-looking brown-haired boy with big blue eyes was seated at the top of the hill. He sat on a red, round plastic object built like an overly large, somewhat flattened contact lens.

Gorg noticed Ebenezer’s eyes widened when he saw the child. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes. I was nine. How did you know where to go?”

“DNA. Everything is stored in your DNA, if one knows where to look. Even your memories.”

“Oh, I’ve forgotten how much I loved to go sledding! That was my saucer sled. I haven’t thought about it in years!”

“Was it handed down to you by your parental units?”

“No, my grandad told me he and his friends would use the tops of metal garbage cans to go sledding, and my dad had a Flexible Flyer. I got my sled that year for Christmas. It used to go so fast! It was just really, really hard to steer it.”

Just then Little Ebbie pushed off and went flying down the hill. He hit a bump and went airborne for a moment, then came down in a spin. Finally, he reached the bottom and slowed down to a stop.

The grin on Ebenezer’s face was so wide one would have thought he was the one sitting on the sleigh. Which he was , technically, but not in his current physicality. Time travel was tricky that way.

“See? You had fun in the snow,” Gorg said. “That’s a good memory.”

“Yeah,” Ebenezer said. “Right up until the time I went down and hit a tree and broke my arm. I was housebound for the entire holiday.”

“But this day was a good memory. This is the one you should hold on to. Let’s go see something else.” He took Ebenezer’s arm before an argument could arise and thumbed another button on the time travel console.

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. “Then this is 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 you did have 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. “You do eat, 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?”

“I, uh, have people who do that for me. That’s what the delivery is for…to bring me food.”

Gorg clapped his hands, and his tentacles shivered with glee. “How fascinating! What a fabulous idea…hiring people to hunt for you. Are you very rich? I would think it would take a great number of interstellar credits to hire someone.”

“No, I’m not rich. I mean, I’m really well off, thanks to all the movies I’ve made. That’s how I could afford to buy this house, and…well, never mind. Delivery doesn’t cost that much. I mean, sure, going to the store and buying the ingredients then making it yourself is cheaper, sometimes, but in this case,” he said, eyeing Gorg’s tentacles, “I think ordering in is called for.”

“Then I should like to try this pizzo of which you speak so highly. It sounds tasty.”

“Piz za , and it is. I’ll order some soda with it, too.”

“Hmm…” Gorg mused. “Pizza and soda. It sounds so exotic! I can’t wait to try it.”

Ebenezer returned his smile, then got out his phone and placed the order.