Read Online Delta-Victor by Clare Revell - Free Book Online

to talk him out of it.”
    “Too right. He goes, we go. Anyway it’s Christmas. Jim can’t go now.”
    Ailsa sighed. “It’s been years since I celebrated Christmas. We used to go to a midnight service on Christmas Eve. I loved singing the carols. And afterwards coming out into the still night air, where you could see your breath.”
    “We could sing carols later if you like. OK, it’s not going to be cold, but we can still sing.” Jim smiled at her.
    “Thank you. I’d like that.”
    Lou grinned. “Where is the nearest turkey farm then?”
    “No turkeys here. Just us chickens,” Staci said.
    Jim groaned. “Ha ha. Your jokes are worse than Lou’s.”
    “Mine?” she scoffed. “I learned from the master as far as bad jokes go. But it isn’t Christmas without a turkey dinner.”
    “We don’t need turkey anyway. I’ll organize dinner. Make it a special one.” Staci added.
    “You’re on,” Lou said. She looked at Jim. “How about we just stay put until the day after tomorrow? It’s too hot to walk and two more days won’t make much difference.”
    “We should camp by the river then,” Ailsa said. “Then we’ll have shade and water.”
    “And fish.” Jim said. “Fish for dinner.”
    Lou felt a bolt of fear run through her as she remembered what had happened the last time Jim had wanted fish. Still, she reasoned, there shouldn’t be any sharks in this river.
    They packed up camp and started walking.
    Twenty minutes later, they reached the river. With a clearing, trees for shade, grass to sit and sleep on and all the fresh, clean water they could drink, Jim declared it perfect. He put the bags down. “We’ll stop here.”
    “Sounds good,” Lou said. She sat down and leaned back against a tree, rubbing her knee.
    Sitting around the fire that evening, the stars shone brightly in the darkness.
    Deefer dozed at Lou’s feet.
    Staci looked across at Ailsa. “We have this nativity scene at home. On Christmas Eve we’d put all the figures in except the baby Jesus. We’d do that on Christmas morning before opening our presents. After we’d set up the nativity, Dad would tell us the Christmas story.
    “There would be carols on the CD player; mince pies in the oven; satsumas and tangerines on the sideboard. Tinsel, the tree covered with lights and baubles, and cards hanging on pieces of string all over the walls. Then Mum would put the turkey in overnight—so in the morning the house would smell all Christmas-y.” She paused. “Tell me a story, Jim.”
    Jim looked at her. “Aren’t you a bit old for bedtime stories?”
    “Please Jim—just this once.”
    “OK. What one do you want?”
    “That’s a silly question.” Staci laughed. “The Christmas story.”
    “So long as you lie down. It’s late.”
    Staci did as she was told.
    They all listened as Jim told the story of that first Christmas night two thousand years ago.
    Staci smiled. “Thanks Jim. We all need reminding. Usually we get so caught up and bogged down in the commercialization of it—cards, food, present shopping—that we forget what it’s all about.”
    “A tiny baby,” Ailsa said. “Who grew up to save His people.”
    “The best present anyone could have,” Jim said. He looked at his watch. “Midnight,” he said. “Merry Christmas.”
    “Merry Christmas,” Ailsa and Lou chorused.
    The night was warm and still. Ailsa looked up at the sky. “I can almost imagine the angels. Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men.”
    ~*~
    Christmas Day, day thirty-seven according to the logbook, was the hottest day since they landed on Agrihan. Hot, humid and sultry.
    Even Ailsa complained it was too hot as she and Staci headed off to find enough fruit to last them the day.
    Lou reckoned the temperature was well over a hundred. She was glad they weren’t going anywhere today.
    Deefer clambered out of the river and ran into the middle of the campsite. He shook himself vigorously, showering water everywhere.
    “T’was Christmas