Christmas Truce

[KamiKaze]

Somewhere in Denver, there was a drawer.

The drawer was in a bedroom, in a home, on top of a butchery, on a city street. Occasionally the smells of cooked meat would ascend into the room, along with the distant sounds of clattering and chatter from employees and customers. The bedroom was, in a sense, both cluttered and neat. Books were neatly put on a shelf in the corner. School textbooks, cookbooks, young adult books, self-help books, fitness books. There was a desk, with a slightly out-of-date laptop, a few notebooks, a desk lamp. A small assortment of things that were bought from a flea market. A glazed pot with a succulent inside on the desk, a red and tan woven rug on the floor. A Militia Mobile poster proudly advertising Blue Team was hanging on the closed door. While plenty of things were clearly in their place, it was also lived-in. While the bed was made, the navy blue bedsheets were slightly wrinkled, perhaps asking for a change and an iron. There were two more books sitting on top. The first was a library book about baking, collecting fines after not being returned on time. The second was a paperback copy of Lord of the Flies. The laptop was open, but with a black screen. If someone turned it back on, they’d see webpages with titles such as “Militia Mobile Strategies,” “How to Be Confident,” “Easy Recipes You Can Do in Five Minutes,” "Lord of the Flies Analysis for Students,” and “Playlist for Studying.”

The drawer wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Wooden, increasingly becoming covered in dust like the rest of the furniture had since the last time anyone entered it. If someone opened it, they would see what you’d expect. A girl’s clothes, slightly big and baggy. Underwear and socks on the top, shirts on the middle, pants on the bottom. But, the middle row held a secret.

If you peeled away the folded shirts, you would see a small red and green paper gift bag from a local bath and body store. Inside were two things.

The first was a red canister of lotion, that the label claimed fizzed and smelled of peppermint.

The second was an envelope addressed to someone named Toni. And inside that envelope was a card featuring a smiling snowman on the outside, with the caption “Happy Holidays!”. On the inside, a handwritten message in black pen. “Merry Christmas Toni! Hope things are going great at college!- Charlie”

It would take someone over a month into the new year until they’d discover it. Everyone had spent more time grieving over a lost sister, a lost daughter, to look through her belongings. It wasn’t even the first time it happened.

But, for now, Charlie was far away, spending Christmas in another country, perhaps never to be seen again.

---

It was Christmas, but Charlie had started the day like any other since they’d arrived here. Wake up, make the bed, wash, get dressed, go for breakfast. Routine, as usual. It was only broke when she went to the mess hall, and it hit her.

It was Christmas.

She remembered it coming up at some point in conversation beforehand. Nothing extravagant, they said, since they were at war, but they’d see what they could do in terms of celebrations. Already there was tinsel, and a plastic tree in the corner, and Christmas music playing on a radio.

For a moment, she tensed up.

If it was Christmas, that meant they spent somewhere around ten days here. They’d come in on the 15th if she remembered correctly. 10 plus 15 is 25. Maybe a day more, maybe a day less.

Either way. They’d been here for a while. And so far, nothing bad had happened.

No one was tortured or hurt in any way. The US army hadn’t tried to rescue them. The British had kept their word, and, you know what? They were fairly amicable. Still soldiers, but things were much better than she expected.

Sometimes she still had anxiety.

What if there was a catch?

But she took a deep breath. Closed her eyes. Another breath. Another.

Opened.

It was Christmas, she reminded herself.

And she went to the line and picked up a plate. A few minutes later, she exited with a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and ham in one hand, and a mug full of hot chocolate with marshmallows in the other. They’d managed to find something good for breakfast, which was nice.

Placing her meal down, she looked around.

She was earlier than the others. She could see some people in line, some of which she recognized as her classmates. Fellow… escapees, she guessed.

It was Christmas. The first in what was probably a new life.

[Irina Ivanov]

They really tried so hard to make it seem like Christmas, yet, everything that truly made it Christmas was missing.

Sure, fill the day with tinsels, stars, and what apparently Christmas food. But where was the love, the cozy atmosphere, the Christmas mass? Where was his family?

Some place he could never go back to again. That's where. His parents were probably fine without him, they always reverted back to their cheerful selves regardless of what happened, they never really changed. However, Edward, especially on this day, was not fine.

Edward walked into the mess hall, a large pile of books tightly hugged against his chest. He looked down, a black fedora covering his face. If it wasn't for the fact that he was one of the few people here, he likely would have bumped into someone, but now, he managed to get to his seat without much accident, and put his hat and book to the side. Brushing his still wet brown hair he recently re-dyed, and tightening his blue tie, Edward tried to make himself look better, and looked around.

There weren't many people here yet, that's for the better. Edward was never one to particularly enjoy crowds all that much, and now, he straight up disliked them.

He took out a book he borrowed, and began to read through the book listlessly, barely taking in information, humming a Christmas hymn he learnt in church. He wasn't in the mood for food, in fact, he could barely stomach anything. He just kept his head down, read through the law textbook, took a deep breath, and tried not to look upset. Even if the Brits had saved their lives, they had taken everything else away. Family? Normal lives? Future plans? Gone. He tried not to be irrationally bitter, but he was.

Edward thought of something stupid, maybe he was trying to distract himself, and the book wasn't working. He saw a girl pass by. Charlie. He remembered that time uh...back then, even if it was for a little while, they were allies. He called out to her, which was quite out of character for him. Maybe...subconsciously, he wanted someone to talk to, and not be a loner on such a 'merry' day. Edward smiled at her, even if he didn't know the reason why, since he was anything but happy.

"Hey...Charlotte? Do you think any of our classmates is going to give Christmas presents or do any traditions like that? Or do you think that no one will be in the right mindset to celebrate this Noel?"

[Cicadan]

Two plates hit one of the nearby tables in musical clinks, accompaniment to his cheerful butting in.

"Well I'll be the first to try, if you guys don't mind."

Warm brown, soft dough cut into somewhat blobby shapes. Thick and prominent grains of fluff that alternated in whorls of creamy light and dark. The aroma of sweet spices lingered over both plates and some distance behind their path cut through the mess hall. A plate of gingerbread and a plate of marble cake, each decorated delicately with icing as white as the snow that was beginning to cling to some of the hall's windowsills.

Clay Bronsen, who had brought out both plates and now sat himself beside them at just the angle to address both his peers, had been fairly active the past two weeks since they'd been squirreled away for processing and debriefing. He'd come off the helicopters almost immediately talking with their handlers- curfew hours, working opportunities, all manner of things practical as the smile he'd painted on his face from day one. An easy and light sort of expression, charisma by the gram, unyielding up to the moment where he smiled at these two faces he'd only ever considered marginally familiar not even a month prior.

"Can't say I did my best, but the effort's all there. Feel free."

He gestured at the plates of homemade treats openly.

"And happy holidays, to the both of ya."