From Andrew's Quest for the Perfect Christmas Gift
by G. Scott and Kathy Sparrow
(WPB 2006)
Chapter One
A Perfect Stranger
Andrew MacClean floated high above the two huge oaks that marked the entrance to his neighborhood. Using the road as a guide to find his way home, Andrew flew with his arms outstretched until he reached the curve in the road that took him deeper into Old Brighton, a neighborhood full of winding roads and thick woods. Just before he reached Dogwood Lane, he took a shortcut over the Evans’ house, and then came down lower and circled his home like one of the seagulls that came to the neighborhood searching for food in the wintertime.
There, below he spotted his stepfather Cyrus shivering in his robe, walking his dog Sarah in the front yard. Andrew soared over the house and saw his mom bundled up in an old thick sweater, drinking her morning coffee on the patio. A book lay open in her lap, as she watched two rabbits playing on the dew-covered grass near the edge of the woods.
Andrew wanted to go down and surprise her, but flying was too much fun to stop now. Turning away from the house, he flew higher and saw the sun climbing over the pine trees that lined the bay. Then, strangely, the sun grew bigger and bigger until a bright golden circle filled the entire sky. Moments later he awakened in his bed at his dad’s house with sunlight pouring into the room.
He laid in bed awhile, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on his face and relishing the memory of his exhilarating dream. He loved to fly in his dreams! If only I could do that all the time, he thought.
But those thoughts left quickly as he smelled the aroma of cinnamon oatmeal and fresh muffins floating up from the kitchen. He knew that his stepmom Mary would soon be calling him for breakfast so he slowly rolled out of bed and slipped into his jeans.
Stepping carefully over the herd of dinosaurs that huddled together on the floor, Andrew looked down and saw that his new stegosaurus was lying on its side and that one of the men had completely disappeared. Andrew frowned and muttered, “He’s been here again, that little beast!”
Andrew dropped to the floor and crawled under his bed, uncovering his secret weapon–– a super squirter water rifle. He scrambled into position, holding the gun to his shoulder, and jumped out into the hallway. “Where are you, you mangy cat!?”
Creeping down the hallway with his gun poised for action, Andrew kept a sharp eye out for Diggory. He reached the far end of the hallway and saw the cat’s tail peeking out from under a chair. “I got him.” He took a deep breath, checked his aim, and prepared to squeeze off a shot that would wipe Diggory from the face of the earth.
“Andrew, come down for breakfast. We have to get to the store soon,” Mary called from the kitchen.
Andrew let the gun fall to his side, his shoulder slumping in disappointment. “Yes, ma’am.”
Returning to his room, he put the gun back under his bed and carefully covered it up with an old tattered blanket. The gun was meant for outdoor play, and he knew that Mary and his dad expected it to be kept in the garage. They just didn’t understand his need to protect himself from the beast Diggory!
After Andrew pulled a sweatshirt over his head, he paused to look out the window. To the north, the tops of tall pine trees rose above the houses. He could see almost all the way to his mom’s house, a mile away, where he lived most of the time and where the tall pines stood like sentinels around his home. He gazed across the distance, wishing that he really could fly from one house to the other and tie them together with the red ribbon that lay on the floor.
Three years had gone by since that day when his mom had been reading to Andrew on the sofa in the den. His dad had come in and said something that made her cry. Andrew cried, too, because he knew somehow that everything he’d known and loved would be changing forever, even though he didn’t understand why. His dad left that day and never came back home.
Things were much better now, and the only thing that remained of that difficult time was a deep sadness that would sometimes creep over Andrew when he got into bed at night. When it did, he would usually cry himself to sleep and would wake up feeling better the next day. It was a big step when he finally admitted to his dad that sometimes he wished his father lived farther away, because it hurt so much to have him so close, but not back at home. Instead of getting mad at Andrew, his dad just hugged him and said that he understood.
In spite of these sad feelings, Andrew was relieved that his parents seemed happier now. He loved his stepfather, who was as good to him as anyone had ever been. Cyrus was a vegetarian, though, and he would sometimes look ill when Andrew forgot and went on and on about how the meat-eating dinosaurs would devour their plant-eating neighbors.
Andrew’s dad seemed happier and more fun since he’d met Mary. There was something mysterious about his stepmom, as if she knew something wonderful that she was not saying. Mary would often sit with Andrew on the sofa, listening to his dreams, hopes, and fears. He would always feel better, even though sometimes she said very little. She would nod and smile as Andrew talked, and sometimes she would close her eyes looking very peaceful. His dad often said that Mary had a gift that was especially rare among men and boys––she listened well.
While Andrew and his mom remained as close as ever, he couldn’t talk to her as easily about what had happened, because she would get upset and have to go in the other room. She said that it all still hurt even though things were much better now.
Andrew was also coming to trust his dad again, even though he could never completely forget the shock of his father’s departure. In spite of this, his dad always encouraged him to talk about his feelings whenever the sadness would return.
But this morning, thoughts of the past faded away, much like the fog did when the sun rose. Andrew was excited, because this Christmas promised to be the very best one he’d ever had. Gram was coming to spend Christmas at his mom’s. And Mary’s kids––Tommy and Sarah––would be coming in a couple of days from Indiana to spend the holidays with his dad and Mary. Andrew would be going back and forth between his mom’s and dad’s, and lots of neat things had been planned.
As he finished dressing, Andrew looked around his room. He decided that there was definitely room for a few more dinosaurs. He figured that between his parents, his aunts and uncles, and his grandparents, he would receive all the dinosaurs that he wanted––the T-Rex, the raptor, and the triceratops––and a lot more, too, that he hadn’t asked for. He could hardly wait for Christmas morning when he’d finally get to open all of his presents at both houses. With that thought, he skipped down the stairs for breakfast.
Stephen MacClean was standing by the window sipping a cup of coffee when Andrew entered the kitchen.
“Morning, Dad,” Andrew said as he slipped into his chair at the table.
“Morning.” Stephen took his seat at the head of the table. “Are you ready for Christmas?” he asked with a smile.
Andrew shrugged and said, “Sure. I’m always ready to open presents.”
Stephen frowned. “What about the others? Have you made your shopping list?”
“Oh, that.” Andrew set his orange juice down with a thump, and it splashed on his placemat. “Uh...sorry.” He quickly cleaned it up with his napkin. “I thought you were just joking.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Stephen glanced at Mary as she came back into the kitchen carrying a pad and pencil. “You need to learn how to give to those you love.”
“But I was saving my money to buy something that I might not get for Christmas.”
“You need to think about someone besides yourself, young man.”
“It’s not fair...I can’t buy presents for everyone with only $12. That’s all I’ve saved!”
“Andrew,” Mary interrupted, placing her hand on Stephen’s. “We told you we’d match what you were able to save. So you’ll actually have $24. I think you can manage with that,” she said hopefully.
“I don’t know what to get Tommy and Sarah,” Andrew complained. “I hardly know them.” He thought that might get him out of the task.
“Well, you can ask them when they arrive.” Mary rose and went to the stove, returning to the table carrying two bowls of oatmeal, setting one in front of him. “Eat up.”
“This really isn’t fair.”
Stephen sighed and walked to the refrigerator, taking a letter and a photo of a dark haired boy out from under a magnet.
“Do you remember Jose′?” Stephen asked, as he returned to the table.
Andrew shrugged. “Sort of. He’s that kid in Mexico you send money to.”
“Right, we sponsor him.” Stephen adjusted his glasses. “Let me read you something.”
He scanned the letter. “Ah, here it is.”
I want to thank you for my Christmas money. This year after buying a pair of shoes for school, I will give what remains to my mother and father so they can buy food for my brothers and sisters.
Andrew looked shocked. “He has to buy his own shoes!?”
Stephen nodded. “And he doesn’t mention any toys either.” Stephen glanced at Mary. “This is the last time we’ll discuss this. I think you know we expect of you.”
Silence fell around the table, as Andrew thought about having to buy gifts for everyone in his family. In fact, it was about the only thing he thought about for the rest of the day.
That night, after being asleep for only a couple of hours, Andrew awakened to a sound. He sat up in his bed to listen. At first he thought that it must have been Diggory knocking the Christmas balls off the tree again. But then he heard what sounded like someone singing a song. Andrew knew that the front and back doors were locked, and that there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else in the house.
Yet, for some odd reason, Andrew was not afraid. He got out of bed, tiptoed past the closed door to his dad’s room, and looked down the stairs into the front hall. A light was coming from the den, lighting up the hallway with a warm glow.
Dad must have forgotten to unplug the tree lights, Andrew concluded. I’ll go do it myself. Thinking that he only imagined hearing a voice, Andrew headed down the stairs. Maybe, he thought, he could investigate the lumpy package that Mary had wrapped for him earlier that day. It was shaped just like the triceratops that he wanted. And maybe one of the horns would “accidentally” poke through the wrapping paper.
As Andrew walked from the front hall toward the den, he heard the voice again. Someone was definitely humming a Christmas song! It was then that Andrew noticed that other things seemed strange, too. Both doors to his father’s office were wide open, and the angel merry-go-round had been set up in the middle of the coffee table. All four of the candles were lit, and the four angels flew around at top speed, making the brass bells tinkle. He thought he smelled cookies, too, even though Mary had decided to wait until the next day to bake.
Feeling confused by all these things, Andrew came to the door of the den and looked in toward the tree. It was so bright that he found it hard to look at it. The angel on top seemed to be leaning over toward him, and the two tiny candles that she held in her hands burned more brightly than any of the other lights. Everything was just a little strange, but somehow clearer. Could I be dreaming? Andrew wondered. But he soon dismissed that idea, especially after pinching himself and realizing that he’d pinched too hard. “Ouch!”
Then, something moved near the tree! He was shocked to see that it was a boy about his own age, dressed in white pajamas and blue slippers. The boy was kneeling at the foot of the tree, replacing an ornament that Diggory had apparently knocked off earlier that evening. The boy then turned toward Andrew and smiled, looking as if he had been waiting for Andrew to arrive.
“Hi!” the boy said, as if that was all that he needed to say. The boy looked a little like the picture of Jose′ that his dad had stuck on the door of the refrigerator. His hair was dark and his eyes bright and sparkling.
Andrew wasn’t sure whether to be friendly or to act tough. The situation seemed to call for toughness. So Andrew frowned and asked, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
As he looked at the boy, waiting for an answer, he felt a warm glow spreading from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He seemed to recognize the boy from somewhere, but he could not remember where he’d met him. Andrew began to smile before he realized what he was doing, and then he tried to look tough again.
“I’m a friend, and I’ve come to visit,” the boy replied.
He made it sound like it was the most normal thing in the world for a perfect stranger to show up at midnight for a visit. What was odd was that Andrew wanted to accept the boy’s explanation without pressing him for more information. He somehow knew that the boy was his friend, that he could trust him, and that to ask any more questions might spoil something that was really special and hard to put into words.
“Do you want to play?” the boy asked. It was very late and Andrew knew he was supposed to be in bed. But a kind of magic filled the air. Laughing at the idea of playing in the middle of the night, Andrew said, “Sure, but we’d better not wake Dad and Mary up!”
“I don’t think they will wake up, but neither do I think they would mind,” the boy replied.
“Do you know them?” Andrew asked.
The boy smiled and nodded, but he said nothing more.
For the next hour or so, Andrew and the boy played with the toys that Andrew had piled beside the fireplace to make room for the Christmas tree. As the minutes flew by, Andrew felt happier and happier, as if the boy was the best friend anyone could ever have. Andrew talked and talked about everything––toys, school, parents, and animals. The boy mostly listened, but whenever he talked, he had something interesting to say, even though he didn’t brag about what he knew. Spending time with this friend was kind of like eating as much of your favorite candy as you wanted to eat without getting sick––or playing your favorite game as long as you wanted to without getting tired of it. Pretty soon, Andrew forgot that he really knew absolutely nothing about this boy who had appeared mysteriously in his dad’s house in the middle of night.
“I must leave soon,” the boy finally said.
Andrew felt a deep sadness that reminded him of when his father left that day three years before, or when his grandfather Poppy died. Andrew became alarmed, afraid that he might never see his friend again. He didn’t want to lose anyone ever again.
“Why don’t you stay here ’til morning?” Andrew asked. “My dad could take you home then.”
The boy only replied, “I really must go now, but I may be able to come back. If I do, I won’t have to leave again. But I will need your help...and it won’t be easy.”
“What won’t be easy?” Andrew became agitated and alarmed. What was the boy talking about, anyway?
“What I mean to say is, it won’t be easy to do what you have to do if you want me to come back,” the boy said mysteriously.
“What do you mean, what I have to do?” Andrew said with a bit of frustration in his voice. Then his curiosity got the best of him, and he asked, “So, what do I have to do?” Andrew leaned forward to get a better look at the boy. What he saw surprised him. The boy’s eyes looked like a grown-up’s eyes.
“I will return,” the boy replied, “when you have given the perfect gift.”
As Andrew puzzled over these words, the boy smiled and began to blend in with the tree lights. Knowing Andrew was upset by his leaving, the boy said, “Never, never give up, Andrew––and don’t be afraid to ask questions.”
The lights became so bright that Andrew could no longer make out the boy’s face. He looked away for a moment, and then looked back again, only to see a large blue Christmas ball hanging on the tree where the boy had been standing. As Andrew looked closely at the ball, he saw a cave-like opening on the side of the ornament. Through this opening, Andrew could see trees and snow and a dark blue sky, and a big, bright star in the distance.
As Andrew tried to find the boy in this tiny nighttime scene, the image of the blue ornament gradually faded away, and he suddenly found himself lying in his bed. He lay there very still, startled by what had just happened. He realized that he must have been dreaming, but the experience was so vivid and so real that Andrew knew somehow that it had been more than a dream.
