Prompt: Tell a family story that gets passed around every year.
Mike kissed Scott goodbye and left him sleeping. They’d stayed up late the night before, New Years’ eve. They both drank way woo much.
Mike went downstairs and forced himself to drink the hangover potion that he had created himself. Instantly, he was clearheaded, though he wanted to throw up. He nibbled on a piece of bread, thinking about how often he had sold this same potion on this very same day to many people, giving them the same instructions every time – “Take this with four saltine crackers” – even though they didn’t have to be saltines or even crackers. It gave the sense of personal magic to it.
His stomach finally settled, he glanced at the clock. He probably had three hours to get to where he needed to go. He went across the hall to his magic circle, using that as a teleporter directly to his old home in King’s Row. From there, it was a quick flight.
—————
Mike rang the doorbell and heard the dogs barking. Getting a sense of deja-vu, Evie came to the door. This time she wore an apron and fuzzy slippers. He smiled at her as she opened the screen door and hugged him in the doorway. “Where’s Scott?”
“I wanted to spend today just with you guys, if that’s all right.”
“Of course it’s all right.” She smiled and led him through the living room, littered with toys.
“I see they had a good Christmas,” Mike said, stepping over a half-naked Barbie doll.
Evie turned around and picked up the doll. “I keep telling her to pick these up or the dogs will get them.”
“I have their Christmas presents, and yours.”
“Oh, Mike, you didn’t have to get us anything.”
“You got me something, didn’t you?”
She blushed, heading into the kitchen. “Just a little thing for you and Scott.”
“So? So did I.” He leaned against the island in the kitchen, watching Evie work. “Anything I can do? I’ve been practicing cooking recently.”
“You can make the salad?”
He rolled his eyes. “C’mon, challenge me.”
She laughed. “Just do it, brother of mine.”
He laughed also, and went to the fridge to pull out the vegetables needed. As he was, a little boy’s voice said, “Stick ’em up!”
Mike looked around the refrigerator door and saw Junior with a plastic brown cowboy hat that was supposed to look like leather, and a plastic vest also meant to look like cowhide. He had a sherrif’s badge on his chest, and a pair of plastic pistol holders slung off his hips, which offsetted the footed pajama pants he wore. Both plastic guns were pointed at Mike’s middle.
“Junior,” said Evie, “I don’t think Woody would go around yelling ‘Stick ’em up!’.”
“Woody?” Mike snickered.
The guns came down. Junior pouted, “He’s my favoritest guy in Toy Story.”
“Toy Story?”
Evie said, “You’ve never seen Toy Story?”
“No, can’t say I have.”
“Have you lived under a rock?”
“Partly,” Mike said, and studied Junior. “So, are you supposed to be the sherrif in this town?”
He nodded. “I’ll show you what Santa brought me.”
“No,” groaned Evie. “Not in the kitchen while we’re cooking.”
“Just Woody and Buzz!” He took off to the front of the house and Mike could hear him stomping up the stairs yelling, “Uncle Mike’s here!”
There was stomping down the stairs and Cynthia showed up, barrelling around the corner. She looked like she’d gotten into her mother’s makeup counter, with way too much rouge in blotches on her cheek and lipstick, and her nails in multiple colors. She ran up and kissed Mike on the cheek, and giggled.
Evie giggled too, getting a wet paper towel and wiping the lipstick mark off his cheek. “Scott would freak,” she said.
“Nah. He’d wonder what I was doing with a girl. Was Santa good to you, too?”
She nodded. “I got–” and she went into a huge litany of things. He didn’t bother asking questions; he only nodded in all the right places. She stopped and studied him. “I can give you a makeover,” she said.
“NO, no…” Mike said, emphasising it with a definitive head shake.
“Honey, you don’t makeover men,” Evie said patiently.
“Justin wears eye liner.”
He’d heard the name in her litany, and put it together that this was a popular gay celebrity. This was a good thing in his mind.
“He’s not Justin,” Evie said.
“I’ll go makeover Barbie, then.” She bounded upstairs.
Mike gave Evie a small smile. Evie said, “You had no idea what she was talking about.”
“Not a clue.”
Evie laughed, and Mike finished getting the stuff out of the fridge.
“So you live off Scott’s money?” Evie asked with a gentle smile.
“No, of course not. I had my own business and I set up a nest egg. I make amulets and things.”
“Like New Age stuff? Crystals?”
“Yep.”
“And people buy that?”
“I make sure it works,” Mike said and smiled.
“I don’t believe in that stuff, Mike.”
“You just might, someday.”
————-
Ryan came upstairs from his man-cave when Evie called for him. The kids had gotten cleaned up and more presentable, and Mike sat next to Junior. They had amicable conversation.
Mike was happy that his father wasn’t here, and they all seemed to be happier for it, too. Evie told stories of what Mike used to do at Christmas, how attached he was to a Winnie-the-Pooh. Mike told stories of his mother, Evie, and things gotten for Christmas. Ryan chipped in with stories of his own, and the kids listened, enraptured to it all.
Then, after dinner, came the exchange of gifts. Mike went to his coat and took out three small boxes, wrapped in glittery sliver paper with red bows. Evie got a bigger box with a handle on it.
Mike handed one box each to the children, and the last one to Evie. “That’s for the both of you,” he said to Ryan.
The kids had already opened their presents and were staring at it as they lifted it out of the tiny box. It was a necklace, on a fine rope of silver, and at the end was a small vial with a tiny feather in it. The children looked confused.
Mike smiled at them. “It’s so you can learn to fly.”
“Fly!” they both cried.
“Now, listen to the instructions. First, stand up on the couch.”
Both of them clambered up on the couch and stood on it. “Put the necklace on over your head – like that. Step off the couch and say, ‘Fly!'”
They both looked at each other. “Trust me, it works. Go ahead.”
Both parents looked concerned. Finally, Junior stepped off the couch and yelled, “Fly!” stretching his arms out. He was suspended in space and moves slowly forward, an inch at a time.
“You can’t go any faster, sorry. I didn’t think your parents would appreciate that.”
Both Evie and Ryan stared, and then Cynthia yelled “Fly!” jumping up and off the couch. She had a little more height, but moved just as slowly.
“Guys, look at me.”
They both turned to look at him, bright smiles on their faces. Mike said, “To go down, say, ‘Down.'”
“Down,” said Junior, and he floated very gently to the ground. He laughed with pure glee and jumped back on the couch.
Mike turned to the startled parents. “It only suspends them for as far as they start off. So if they jump and yell fly, they’ll only go that high. You can also tell them ‘down’ if you want.”
Ryan stammered, “What…how..?”
“Magic.” He smiled. “Open yours.”
The two of them opened it. Ryan gasped and smiled, and Evie looked at him. “This is a Roman coin,” he said. “An ancient Roman coin.”
“A denarius,” Mike added, “but this is magically imbued.” He took the coin and turned it over. “Take this, put it in a box, any box, with any amount of cash. Wait for one turn of the sun and open the box.” He put the coin back. “Do you know what den means?”
“Ten. Like in decade,” said Evie.
Mike chuckled. “See where college education gets you? This will multiply whatever’s in the box ten-fold. But you can’t open it until after a turn of the sun. If you do, the timer starts all over again.”
“Twenty-four hours,” Ryan said. “Can I touch it?”
“Sure,” Mike said.
Ryan took it out and turned it over in his fingers. Evie said quietly, “Makes what we bought you look like positive crap.” She looked up at Mike with tears in her eyes.
“No, I don’t care what you bought me,” Mike said, and kissed his sister on the cheek. “You thought of me.”
“Go open it,” she said, waving her hand at him. She got up and went into the kitchen. Mike looked worried.
Ryan said, “She’s going off to cry for a minute.”
“Did I do something to upset her?”
“I think she’s gratified.”
Mike waited until she came back, watching the kids float along about a foot off the ground. They smiled at each other, and Mike knew she was okay. He turned to his gift.
He pulled away the wrapping paper, and saw that it was a bottle of champagne with two glasses. “This is very nice,” he said.
“Nothing like yours, Mike–”
“Hush,” he said. “Gifts come from the heart, not from the pocketbook.”
“Where does the money come from?” Evie asked, sitting down and examining the coin.
“Companies. Large stores. Banks.” He didn’t want to tell her that it came from wherever that particular bill type was in proximity with. So if their neighbor had a hundred dollar bill, and there was one in the box, that neighbor’s hundred dollar bill would disappear.
Ryan asked, “If a bank, will it be in sequence?”
“Possibly,” he said with a frown. “I didn’t consider that. I’d stick to small bills if I were you.”
Ryan chuckled. “Okay. Kids? Guys? Uncle Mike never saw Toy Story.”
The kids were still floating around, flapping their arms. Mike shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m going to head home. I have to work this off.” He patted his stomach.
“You’re welcome to come here anytime, Mike; you and Scott.”
“Thanks, Evie.” He kissed Evie and gave Ryan a hug. After kissing the kids (and only after they said thank you), Mike went to the front door with his package.
Evie looked around outside. “Where’s your car?”
“I didn’t bring one.”
“How did you get here, then?”
He grinned, and floated up in the air, a couple of feet off the ground. “I flew.” Then, with a quick hand motion and a laughing smile, he bolted upward, into the sky.