Ozpin
fell backward through the portal and landed on something soft. He was surprised
at first, but as he looked around, he realized where he was. “They are not torn
down,” he cried, folding one of his bed curtains in his arms. “They are not
torn down, rings and all. They are here.” For indeed, the bed was his own and
the room was his own.
“And
I’m here,” he said. But the best and happiest of all thoughts was that the time
before him to make amends was his own. “The shadows of the things that would
have been may be dispelled. They will be! I know they will.”
“I
will live in the past, the present, and the future,” Ozpin said as he scrambled
out of bed. “The spirits of all three shall strive within me. Oh, Jacob
Ironwood. Heaven and Christmas be praised for this. I say it on my knees, old
Ironwood, on my knees!”
He was
so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions that his broken voice would
scarcely answer his call.
Ozpin
stood and staggered about his room. “I don't know what to do,” he said,
laughing and crying in the same breath. “I am as light as a feather, I am as
happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolboy. I am as giddy as a drunken
man. A Merry Christmas to everybody, and a Happy New Year to all of Remnant!”
He
frisked into the sitting room, and went all around it, observing the objects
and remembering the events from the night before. “There's the pot that the hot
chocolate was in. And there's the door by which the ghost of Jacob Ironwood
entered. There's the corner where the Ghost of Christmas Present sat. And there's
the window where I saw the wandering spirits. It's all right, it's all true, it
all happened.” Ozpin laughed, and for a man who had been out of practice for so
many years, it was a splendid laugh.
“I
don't know what day of the month it is. I don't know how long I've been among
the spirits. I don't know anything. I'm quite a baby. I don't care. I'd rather
be a baby.”
Running
to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. There was no fog or mist. It
was simply a clear, bright, and cold day. The sunlight was golden, the sky
heavenly, the fresh air sweet, and from the nearby church, he heard the
glorious ringing of bells.
Ozpin
looked down into the street. “Hallo!” he cried at a girl building a snowman.
“Hallo!”
The
girl looked up. Ozpin thought she was rather cute with her short, orange curly
hair, her pink bow, and freckled face, but her lime green eyes didn’t seem
wholly organic.
“Hallo,
my fine girl!” cried Ozpin.
“Sal-u-tations!”
returned the girl.
“What's
today?”
“Huh?”
returned the girl with all her wonder.
“What's
today, my fine lady?”
“Today?
Why, it’s Christmas Day, of course!”
“It's
Christmas Day,” said Ozpin. “I haven't missed it. The spirits have done it all
in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course, they can. Of course,
they can.”
“I
don’t know who the spirits are,” said the girl, “but of course they can,” she
said with a nod.
“Tell me, girl: do you know poulterer's in the
next street but one?”
“I
should hope I did.”
“A
remarkable lass. An intelligent lass. Do you know whether they've sold the
prize turkey? Not the little one, but the big one.”
“What?
The one as big as me?”
“What
a delightful girl,” said Ozpin. “Such a pleasure to talk to. Yes, my dear.”
“It’s
still there.”
“Is
it? Go and buy it.”
The
girl recoiled. “Walk-er!” she said, waving her hand dismissively at him.
“No,
no,” said Ozpin. “I am in earnest. Go and buy it, and tell them to bring it
here. Come back with the poulterer, and I'll give you ten lien. Come back with
him in less than five minutes and I'll give you fifty!”
The
girl’s eyes lit up and a strange metallic object shot out from her back before
extending and then multiplying into several copies. Tiny holes opened at the
end of each one and green energy shot from them, propelling the girl off like a
shot.
“I'll
send it to Taiyang Cratchit's,” said Ozpin, rubbing his hands. “He shan't know
who sent it. It's twice the size of Tiny Ruby.”
The
hand in which he wrote the address was not a steady one, but write it he did,
and went downstairs to wait for the poulterer's man. As he stood there, waiting
his arrival, the knocker caught his eye.
“I
shall love it as long as I live,” said Ozpin, patting it with his hand. “I
scarcely ever looked at it before. What an honest expression it has in its face.
It's a wonderful knocker. Ah! Here's the turkey.”
It was
quite a turkey. It never could have stood upon its legs. They would have
snapped off as soon as it tried.
“Now,
I want you to take this turkey to Patch.”
“Patch!?”
said the poulterer’s man.
Ozpin
realized his mistake. “Why, it'd be impossible for you to carry that to Patch.
You must take an airship,” he said, slapping more lien into the man’s hand.
“And this is for you, my fine lady,” he said, chuckling, as he paid the girl
double what he originally promised her.
Ozpin
went back inside and dressed himself in his best, which was an old emerald suit
he hadn’t had the pleasure of wearing for a while. He then went down to the
streets which were now well crowded with people like he had seen when he went
out with the Ghost of Christmas Present. He regarded every person with a
delighted smile. Those who knew him regarded him with a wonder so strange, they
couldn’t believe to see the change in him. He was so pleasant and blithe that
when he happened upon the monkey-tailed and cat-eared Faunus carolers from the
night before, he wished them a stout Merry Christmas.
“It’s
that old, crusty miser from yesterday!” said the monkey-tailed one.
“Good
morning, my boy!” replied Ozpin.
“He’s
lost his mind…”
The
cat-eared girl was stunned into silence.
“Merry
Christmas to you both!” he said, showering them with lien.
“Whoa!”
said the boy.
“Th-thank
you, sir!” said the girl.
“Think
nothing of it! Just making up for my crass mistake.”
“Merry
Christmas,” said the girl with a smile.
“Yeah,
thanks,” said the boy, counting the lien.
Ozpin
nodded and continued on his way but he didn’t go far before running into two
others from the day before.
“Ah!
Mr. and Mrs. Belladonna. How are you this morning? I hope you succeeded in your
mission yesterday.”
“Mr.
Ozpin?” said Ghira, bewildered.
“Yes,
that is my name, but I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your
pardon. And will you have the goodness to accept…” Ozpin leaned forward and
whispered to Ghira and Kali.
“Mr.
Ozpin?!” said Kali.
“Gods
bless me,” cried Ghira, as if his breath were taken away.
“Mr.
Scrooge, are you serious?”
“If
you please,” said Ozpin. “And not a lien less. A great many back payments are
included in it, I assure you.”
“My
dear sir,” said Ghira. “I don't know what to say to such munificence.”
“Don't
say anything please,” replied Ozpin. “Just come and see me tomorrow, and we’ll
make the arrangements.”
“We
will,” cried Kali.
“Thank
you. I am much obliged to you. Thank you fifty times. Bless you both!”
Ozpin
continued on his merry way through the streets. He watched the people hurrying
to and fro, he patted children on the head, questioned beggars, looked down
into the kitchens of houses, and found that everything could yield him
pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk, or anything else for that matter,
could give him so much happiness. And then finally, in the afternoon he turned
his steps toward his nephew's house.
He
passed the door a dozen times before he had the courage to go up and knock.
“Is
your master at home, my dear?” said Ozpin to the servant girl.
“Yes,
sir.”
“Where
is he, my love?”
“He's
in the dining room, sir, along with mistress. I'll announce you.”
“Thank
you, no. That’s not necessary. He knows me,” said Ozpin with his hand already
on the dining room knob. He turned it gently, and sidled his face in. Qrow,
Winter, and their guests were looking at the table which was spread out in great
array for the young housekeepers had gone to great lengths to make sure
everything was perfect.
“Qrow,”
said Ozpin.
“Bless
my soul,” cried Qrow. “Uncle Ozpin?”
“Yes,
it is I. I have come to dinner. Will you allow me to dine with you, Qrow?”
Let
him in? It is a mercy Qrow didn't shake his arm off. Ozpin was quite at home in
five minutes. Nothing could have been heartier. It was a wonderful party, with
wonderful games, wonderful unanimity, and wonderful, wonderful happiness.
But
Ozpin was early at the office the next morning. He wanted to be there first and
catch Taiyang coming in late. That was something he had set his heart upon.
The
clock struck nine and there was no Taiyang. A quarter past and there was still
no Taiyang. He was a full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time when he
did arrive. His hat was off before he entered. He was on his stool in a jiffy,
and driving away with his pen as if he were trying to overtake nine o'clock.
“Taiyang
Cratchit!” growled Ozpin in his accustomed voice as near as he could feign it. “What
do you mean by coming here at this time of day?”
“I am
very sorry, sir,” said Tai. “I am behind my time.”
“Indeed,
you are. Step this way, sir, if you please.”
“It's
only once a year, sir,” pleaded Tai, appearing in his office. “It shall not be
repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.”
“Indeed.
But, I'll tell you what, my friend,” growled Ozpin. “I am not going to stand
for this sort of thing any longer. And therefore,” he continued, standing and
looking as menacing as he could. Tai flinched. “I am going to raise your salary!”
Tai
blinked disbelievingly. “Sir?”
Ozpin
laughed. “A Merry Christmas, Tai!” he said with an earnestness that could not
be mistaken as he clapped Tai on the back. “A merrier Christmas, Tai, my good
fellow, than I have given you for many a year. Yes, sir. I'll start by doubling
your salary—”
“Double?!”
“And
endeavor to assist your struggling family in any way I can! We’ll get Tiny Ruby
to the right doctors and we’ll even fix up Yang’s bike and get her a better
position closer to home!”
“How
do you know about Tiny Ruby’s condition? And Yang’s bike?! How do you know
their names?!”
“And we will discuss all your affairs this
very afternoon over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Tai.”
“That’s
extraordinary, sir. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
“Never
mind that! Make up the fires, man, and buy another coal scuttle before you dot
another i, Tai!”
Ozpin
was better than his word. He did it all and infinitely more. And Tiny Ruby, who
did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a
master, and as good a man as the good old city knew.
Some
people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh for he was
wise enough to know that nothing ever happened for the sake of good at which
some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset.
He had
no further intercourse with spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence
Principle ever afterwards. And it was always said that he knew how to keep
Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge.
May
that be truly said of all of us. And so, as Tiny Ruby observed, gods bless us,
every one.
***
Keep writing, my friends.
More About Bryan C. Laesch:
Amazon: My Author Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
No comments:
Post a Comment