A shot rang out and she vaulted out of the chair. Tea poured into her lap. She tried to dance away from her dripping pants and peer through the vertical blinds at the same time. In the parking lot, Curtis climbed out of an ancient VW-e hybrid van with tie-dye colors splotched over rust stains.
Marley ran outside and threw her arms around him.
“Hey! Mom!” He shucked her off in embarrassment, looking back at the van.
A harassed man climbed out of the driver’s seat and started to explain, but a bare spring from the car seat hooked into his jacket. The seat back fell into the parking lot. He scrambled to replace it.
Marley stared from the van to Curtis. “You’re riding in that?”
The man pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Hello, Ms. Richardson. I’m Bob Chang, one of the youth counselors. The van’s not too bad as long as you take left turns gently because of the axle. The internal alert signal never stops while you’re driving, but it’s just a short.”
Three other fifteen-year-olds stuck their heads out the windows and sang, “Siii—”
“Beep!” chirped Curtis as the warning signal.
“—elent Niii—
“Beep!”
“—iight.”
Bob frowned. “Keep it down, guys. People are trying to—” The scream of an ambulance cut him off. He tried to ignore the adolescent laughter. “And the brakes haven’t hit metal yet. The backfire’s annoying, but it doesn’t—”
“But … so late…” Guilt of the forgetful mother froze her tongue. She muttered an obscenity in her private language.
“But, Mom, we had to stop by Quik Mart for Tina to get some diapers for her baby. Then the van wouldn’t start and we had to push it until—I gotta call Tina and tell her we made it.” Curtis loped through the apartment door.
“Ooooooo, Teeeeeeenaaaaaa,” shouted his friends.
Bob looked at his feet. “Do you want to pick up Curtis from now on?”
“Yes. Well … I’ll try.” Marley looked away. “I don’t always know when I’ll get off work. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’d feel the same way if it were my boys.” He whirled around to make a quick exit, but the door handle stuck.
Equally humiliated, Marley watched him drive away, his passengers caroling and beeping, this time to “We Three Kings.” She looked up at the night sky as she went back inside. Where was a guiding star when you needed one?
Buried under street lights, business neon, airport signals, and the glow from the SuperAstroDome. She shook her head as she shoved the front door open.
Curtis emerged from the kitchen with his hands full. “Can we go to Bubba’s All-You-Can-Eat Barn tomorrow night? You said I could pick.”
Marley ran a hand through her hair. “Oh—we can’t. They changed my schedule.”
“You promised! You said you’d come to opening night.”
“Yes, I know … and I will. It’s just that they’ll come pick us up and take us, so we can’t go out to eat, unless I can get off early…” She shook her head, not wanting to break another promise. Curtis snorted in agreement. “And I can’t stay all evening. I’ll have to go with the aliens to some holiday shows. I should be back in time to pick you up.” Again her voice rose uncertainly.
“It’s sure not like Christmas used to be,” Curtis muttered through a chicken leg. “I’ll get my own ride home.”
“Not in that…” Her voice trailed off helplessly. She blinked away visions of toddler Curtis cooing, clapping at the Christmas tree while she and Josh … She reached for something, anything, to say.
Curtis was gazing at her pants. “Have an accident, Mom?”
* * * *
The mature discussion Marley intended to have with Curtis the next morning dissolved into a scattershot of grievances, ending with Curtis’s theme song about things not being like they used to be (with door slam accompaniment). Wondering what right she had to call herself a communicator, Marley slouched through the work day, watching the team try to explain holiday customs to politely uncomprehending Eridanians. Asked about their own celebrations, the aliens recounted the days set aside to mark the devastation of the southern continent by their northern enemies and the remembrance of those who died in religious wars. It was a long list. Human faces grew pinched. Marley began to panic, more from the human reaction than the Eridanian stories. She tried to point out that Earth had plenty of bloody occasions that most people took lightly, but no one heard her. She vowed to talk to the Eridanians when she had them to herself that evening.
As it turned out, she had them to herself and three vans worth of military personnel. Curtis, his earrings swinging, affected an indifferent slouch as he climbed into Marley’s van. She tried not to be embarrassed. He looked like any other teen. Introduced to the van’s occupants—two security guards, Kevin as driver, and three Eridanians—he rasped and yipped what he thought was the traditional greeting. He came closer than the President had.
The Eridanians graciously replied. Curtis hunched down in standard sullen boredom, but his eyes kept darting towards the extraterrestrials. Saving up bragging details, Marley was sure.
On the drive to the strip mall, Marley explained the Living Nativity, skimming over religious elements while Kevin chuckled under his breath. She glared at the back of his head as she said, “The church youth have volunteered to present this pageant to raise money for a church building.”
Curtis added, “Yeah, and the angels are gonna wear their nightgowns, and Tina Salera is back from having her baby, so they’re going to be Mary and Jesus. She already looked pretty fine before, and now she’s got boobs. And Keanu Jardine moved to the Lower Territories to get out of child support.”
Kevin laughed. “Translate that, Mom.”
As the government van slipped, sleek and silent, into a parking place, Curtis jumped out. Even unmarked, the vehicle radiated power. Next to it the tie-dyed van pulled up. It backfired with a lurch.
“Van fart!” shouted its adolescent passengers, streaming out into anarchy.
Besides the church, the strip held a Mexican restaurant, a thrift shop, a used media store, and a gym. The Nativity had been consigned to the far end of the lot to grant peace and parking to the other enterprises, but it was spilling over.
Nightgown-clad angels ran shrieking, throwing handfuls of hay at their pursuers, shepherds reaching with papier-mâché crooks. Their neglected flock, goats with white bath mats tied around their middles, milled about moodily, terrorizing customers. An aerobics bunny from the gym screamed as the goats surrounded her. An adult who’d been nailing the beams of the stable together ran to help. His carpentry collapsed, to the cheers of the youthful congregation.
A Virgin Mary, looking more like Circe, stood apart, baby in arms. She nudged the manger with her foot and looked askance at the goats nibbling the hay. Despite her shapeless robe, every move emphasized the curves Curtis had admired. Marley shut her eyes in pain.
A family van pulled to the lot. Teen girls bounced out, carrying pizza boxes and waving pop bottles. A pro mom in uniform—denim skirt and perky red Christmas sweater—barreled out, bawling, “All right, settle down, round up these goats, get back on our side of the lot.”
“This is winter festival?” asked Red.
“I’m afraid so.” Marley sighed.
Dressed in traditional magi costumes handed down through the ages—velour bathrobes with gold piping and paper crowns from a fast-food restaurant—Curtis and his fellow wise men erupted from the church. Marley noted cynically that the most exotic boys had been selected, to give the magi a foreign appearance. They King-Tutted to their “camel,” a pony with a brown bolster pillow.
With a royal flourish, Curtis offered the pony a slice of pizza. “Whoa!” shouted his companions, laughing as the pony lipped off the toppings. “Let’s try anchovy and onion on him!”
Blue asked, “Significance?”
“It’s the pageant we spoke of.”
“Pageant?”
“Um, play.”
“Toy?”
“No. Um, they’re acting out a religious story of a baby, a star—”
“And many animals,” said Green, examining the piebald goat sniffing his robe.
Blue pointed. “Sitting on animals?”
Marley sighed. The Sri Lankan magus was trying to mount the bolstered pony. Curtis and his African counterpart helped. The pony ducked his head in apology but backed up in a definite negative. “Those are the wise men.”
“We seek these.” Red waddled toward them. Blue and Green followed after a few hoots that Marley didn’t understand.
“Wait. They’re not really—”
“Ms. Richardson, I still don’t have permission slips from you.” Bob appeared at her side.
“What? Oh.” Marley squinted after the Eridanians. Bundled in coats, scarves, and hats, they could pass for humans. But could Curtis be trusted? What were the boys telling them? She looked for the security men; they were circling the area. Kevin was entering the Mexican restaurant.
The shepherds thundered by again.