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    Geron Kees
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

You're the Star Atop My Christmas Tree, Charlie Boone! - 1. Part 1

Bob Travers put down the drill and stepped back to survey his handiwork. The box was taking shape nicely, really starting to look like something he'd be proud to use in his act. He'd come to enjoy designing and constructing his own props, basing them upon ideas he'd obtained from his immense library of magic, but always adding his own touches to make them special. It was much more fun than buying props and just customizing them, as he had mostly done when he'd first started performing. To his very great surprise he was constantly thinking of ways to improve upon the work of those that had come before him, and the props he used in his magic act now were about as good as anyone else had in the field.

It was a chilly day, but only average for December. The weather had been weird all year, and winter seemed no different. After some early cold snaps and a couple of bouts of weak snow, it had warmed again to something a little more comfortable, at least for upstate New York. There was talk of possible snow by Christmas, but he'd have to see it coming down to believe it. Only two days remained before the holiday, and while the sky was filled with clouds and the air outside held the nip that might herald a change to snow, it had been like that for three days now without the slightest sign of a wintry gift from above.

This particular day was gray and the afternoon dim, and forbidding enough to keep most people indoors before a fire. For Bob it was just an excuse to turn on the lights in front of the house a little early. A pair of dwarf spruce trees on either side of the drive were laced with colorful Christmas lights, which winked cheerfully and insistently enough to push away the dull gray overcast that hung about the house. He'd learned from a certain group of wonderfully friendly people in a small Vermont village named Twombly that Christmas was as cheerful as you kept it, and that lights were one way to ensure that that cheer was visible to everyone who looked.

Bob was working in the garage, the door raised, his big brown Ford Expedition backed out into the driveway to provide enough room before the workbench. His black box trailer, which he used to haul his magic act from gig to gig, was stowed off to the side of the drive, the holographic sprinkle of stars on its side aglow in the aura from the two lit trees nearby. The long driveway ran off among the pines and red oaks to the distant road beyond, far enough away that it was tough to hear the occasional car as it meandered past.

That was just the way Bob liked it, quiet and serene. The house sat among virgin forest, with just enough trees removed by the builder to construct a house and plant a tiny yard around it. Upstate New York was beautiful in December, the ground still brown and red with fallen leaves, and the evergreens liberally sprinkled among the oaks giving the woods enough color to keep them looking pleasantly fresh and alive.

Bob loved the season. Christmas! Most years he had a gig of some sort or another that went off right around the holiday, but this year nothing much had come up. The popularity of magic acts ebbed and flowed, and this year the ebb had hit right around the holiday season. Bob was going to miss having the fun of a performance at Christmastime, which was always somehow a little extra special. The magic of that holiday seemed to give an added glow to the illusions he performed, and people always seemed more open, and ready to have themselves pleasantly amazed. But this year it just hadn't been in the cards.

At least there was a very welcome alternative. He and Susan had been invited to his brother's house for the holiday, a Christmas tradition now, and one that was always enjoyable. The Travers family was a close one, and in the busy days of their lives there was simply not enough time that could be spent together. Christmas was where they often had time to get caught up with each other, and Bob and Susan had not missed a Christmas visit with his brother and family in nearly twenty years.

Bob's nephew, Rick, who had been assisting Bob in his act on and off for some years, was a lot of fun, as were his friends, Adrian, Charlie, and Kip, who had all shown a lively interest in performing. Their last Christmas together had been the most incredible adventure that Bob had ever experienced, and he still smiled when he thought of Twombly and the people that lived there.The very special people that lived there.

Elves. Who would have figured that such fairytale creatures were real? Not that the elves he had met in Twombly had been anything like any elves he'd ever read about before. They were just like people, except smaller in stature, and very easy on the eyes.

He smiled at that thought. No, they were downright cute, even the elders. What a great trick that was!

They were also very decent folk, and Bob had been amazed and saddened to learn of the plight of the ones that lived in Twombly. Cut off from their own kind for a thousand years, outcasts forgotten by time, it had taken the chance meeting with Rick and his friends to set things right. Yet the people of Twombly had flourished even in their solitude, happy in their new world while still missing the old one. Bob still smiled whenever he thought of his small role in those events, and how he had become a part of things he never would have dreamed possible.

And all because of Charlie, Kippy, Ricky, and Adrian, and the wonderfully mysterious friends they had somehow acquired. Even Santa himself, in the form of Nicholaas, a human being with magical powers even more potent than those of the elves. Bob still shook his head every time he imagined the strange things that Ricky must know, the things he had learned and seen in the nearly three years he and his friends had been aware of the elves. They were all things that Bob's brother and sister in law, Ricky's parents, couldn't begin to imagine let alone suspect that their son and his friends were doing. It was almost too wild to believe at all, and only the fact that Bob Travers trusted his own eyes and ears that had allowed him to accept these things as true. Magicians were astute observers, and a tough bunch of people to fool.

And, well, there were also the tiny lights that swirled about in the back of Bob's mind, mostly beneath his notice, but sometimes popping up when he least expected it, or even in his dreams. A gift from Kiley and Kiri Snorkum, the children of the Mayor of Twombly, each one of these lights was the germ of a wish. All Bob had to do was select one, and put it into a wishful thought in his mind, and let it loose into the world. Or, so he'd been told. He and Rick had discussed the wish lights more than once, and Bob knew that Kippy and Charlie had both used wishes in the pursuit of their adventures.

But Bob had not quite dared to use any of his. You'd think the idea of doing real magic would thrill a magician, and be too tempting to ignore. But the events with the elves of Twombly had instilled in Bob a certain regard for powers that he did not understand, and a deep respect for those that did use them, and used them only for noble ends. These wish lights were supposed to be used only for good things - for things that mattered - as they were born of the affection that Kiley and Kiri had developed for Charlie Boone and all of his friends. To misuse even one out of ignorance or foolishness was not something Bob thought he could tolerate.

So he had never tried to use any of his wishes. That the lights were still there in his mind one year later told him that they were there forever, and that they were patient, willing to wait for the time when they were really needed. Bob had meant to talk to Ricky about them some more, but the past year had been a busy one, and Bob never seemed to get by his brother's house as often as he would have liked. But he'd remedy that soon, and Christmas was the perfect time to talk about such magical things, anyway.

And he had to smile now at that word, too. Magic. The term had always been synonymous in Bob's mind with illusion, and only in the last year had he come to see the difference between the two. Illusion was what human magicians performed, doing one thing while causing their audience to see or otherwise perceive another. Magic was what the elves did, and it was an entirely different thing altogether. What happened there was real, and yet it still wasn't the magic that humans had always associated with the word, where you basically got something for nothing with a simple wave of a wand or the speaking of a spell.

What the elves could do was a science according to Ricky and Charlie, and Ricky even went so far as to call it a brain science, because what happened in the real world originated in each elf brain. There was real energy involved, and there were concrete rules for its use, and physics of one sort or another that explained it all, even if humans were not quite there yet. That it was complex was obvious, but that Ricky and his friends believed in it wholeheartedly as a force for good was just as plain. And after what Bob had seen of the people in Twombly, he had also become a believer.

It was just that simple. Illusions were for people, and magic was for elves. He still referred to himself as a magician, and the things he did as magic, because that was what people expected and knew. But that he was an illusionist rather than a true practitioner of the arts he was now well aware.

But it was still nice to know that the magic lights were there, within his mind, if ever the time came that he would actually need one. He figured he would know, if that time arrived. Hopefully!

He sighed, and stepped back from the workbench and stretched a bit. The gas heater suspended from the rafters above him hummed softly, filling the garage with a pleasant sound that was good company, and the heat from which allowed him to work with the garage door up while keeping the cooler air outside at bay. It was a little bit wasteful of energy, but it was worth that to be able to tinker at the bench and still enjoy the day just a few feet away. The afternoon was still and beautiful despite its solemn tones, and he paused a moment by Susan's car to smile out at the world beyond.

And so he was looking when the little truck came up the drive. He stared a moment, not recognizing the vehicle at all. It wasn't the mail truck, which would be about the only vehicle he'd be expecting to show up that day. The strange truck was white, but it seemed to have some red and gold trim, and as it drew nearer Bob was amused to see that it seemed hung with silvery tinsel of some kind. Someone's idea of Christmas decoration, no doubt, carried just a little too far.

The sound of the engine came to him then, a sort of bubbly purr just audible over the hum of the garage heater. He frowned at that, wondering what the heck kind of engine the thing had. Maybe it was one of those hybrids, part gas powered, part electric? Or one that ran off propane, or something like that? It certainly was an odd sound, no doubt about it.

The vehicle drew up to the garage door and stopped, gave a last bubbly grunt, and then went silent. Bob stared hard now, not even able to recognize the make of the little truck, let alone its purpose in coming there. His eyes roved over the length of the odd vehicle, finally coming to rest on something printed on the side of the boxy rear. It was a large logo in a vibrant blue against the white background, of two hands extended towards each other, one clasping what looked like a sheet of paper, clearly ready to be passed to the other. Above that, in letters arranged in an arch, were the words, Western Onion.

The driver's door slid back then, and a young man in a white uniform and a white cap with a black bill slid out. Well...at first glance he seemed to be young. His diminutive size and youthful features gave that first impression, certainly. He looked up, saw Bob standing there in the garage, and came forward, smiling. It was only then that Bob noticed the whiskers along the sides of the newcomer's cheeks, belying the first impression of youth.

"Hi there!" The man reached into a brown pouch at his belt, pulled out a sheet of paper, and headed straight for Bob. "Western Onion telegram for Mr. Bob Travers!"

Bob simply stared as the man entered the garage and came right up to him, and held out the sheet of paper.

He found his voice then. "You mean Western Union, don't you?"

Despite his whiskers, the man in the uniform still looked like a youngster. His features were arranged just so that the word cute came unbidden, and Bob was immediately put in mind of the last time he had seen such a truly appealing face. Elves.

The man looked down at the paper he held, frowned, and squinted more closely at it. "It's supposed to be Union?"

Bob nodded his head slowly, but couldn't help smiling. "Well...yeah. I mean, it once was. I don't think anyone delivers telegrams anymore, but certainly not them."

A bemused expression arrived on the newcomer's face. "My, my. I should have worn my reading glasses, I guess."

The man waved a finger at the sheet of paper he carried, and then raised his arm and pointed the same finger over his shoulder at the truck. Bob looked up just in time to see the 'O' in Onion start to crawl, and then quickly rearrange itself into a 'U'. He laughed. No question about it now! Magic had arrived!

"That's better." The delivery man smiled again, and held out the sheet to Bob. He took it automatically, and stared down at the header, which also said Western Union.

The message printed below was in a squarish font, stopped from being completely utilitarian by being offered in a bright and charming Christmas tree green:

'Hi Bob Travers. stop. You are cordially invited to spend Christmas with us here at our place. stop. Grandpa Max said he would fix the clocks so that you could be here for Christmas and over at Ricky's, too. stop. Charlie, Kippy, Ricky, and Adrian will be here. stop. And Pip and me! stop. Please come! stop.

Love,

Frit

don't stop!'

Bob read the telegram twice, and then laughed again. He knew from conversations with Ricky and his friends that Frit was a many times great grandson of Max, and that Pip was his boyfriend. The two were supposed to be a lively and colorful pair.

A slow but welcome smile spread across his face. Christmas with the elves! It was just what he felt like he needed this year, too. Without an illusion show of his own to perform, a magic show with the elves would be just what the doctor ordered. And if Max could fix it so that he could be there with them to celebrate, and also with Susan and Ricky's family to celebrate the day there...what was there to lose?

The delivery man looked pleased at his reaction. "Is there a reply?"

Bob sighed, and nodded his head. "Yes. Just four words: I'd love to come!"

"Excellent!" The man whipped out a small pad of paper and a pen with a white feather at the end of it, and hastily jotted down Bob's reply. "I'll get this off as soon as I get back to the office."

Bob shook his head. "Um...you guys really use telegrams among yourselves?"

"Well, no. Not like you're thinking." The man looked down and patted his uniform fondly, and then returned Bob's smile. "This is just for fun." He gave a secretive glance both ways, then leaned forward and whispered, "It's really all just an illusion, you know."

Bob laughed at that, and the man grinned, tipped his hat, and turned to go.

"Oh...wait." Suddenly, Bob didn't want the magic moment to end. He fished around in the pocket of his jeans, looking for change, and then reached for his wallet. "I want to give you something for your trouble."

The deliveryman immediately held up a hand. "No, no. That's fine." He winked. "That won't spend where I'm going, anyway."

"Well, then thank you so much for coming all the way out here." Bob followed the deliveryman outside, and stood near the truck as that one climbed inside again. The tinsel along the edges of the vehicle swayed back and forth merrily, even though the air was still; and somewhere, far off, Bob was sure he heard the cheerful tinkle of sleigh bells.

"It's never as far as you think," the elf said, waving a hand around at Bob's driveway. "It was well worth the trip to see the very nice place you have here. It's so cheerful!"

"Thanks." Bob smiled. "Uh...Merry Christmas."

The elf looked pleased at that. "Thank you. And the same to you." He waved, and then slid the door closed. The engine of the truck started again, sounding even more bubbly close up, and then the vehicle backed away and then turned to head back down the drive. Bob watched it go, wondering where it was off to next, and if any of his neighbors had spotted the Western Onion on the vehicle's side and speculated on what the heck was going on.

But that question was quickly answered. The truck dwindled among the trees, but was only halfway back to the main road before it suddenly became transparent, then faded away and was gone. Bob stared after it a moment longer, and then laughed. "Now...that's magic!"

And then he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, and hit the speed dial icon that would call his nephew.


* * * * * * *


"And that's what he said," Ricky finished, sitting down on the edge of the cot in Charlie's bedroom. Adrian, seated by his side, nodded.

"That's wonderful!" Kippy exclaimed from underneath Charlie Boone's arm, his voice sounding just a touch dreamy. They were sitting side by side on the edge of Charlie's bed, facing the other two boys. Charlie had his arm around Kippy's shoulders, a place that had become a second home for the appendage.

"It will be great to have your uncle along with us when we visit with Frit and Pip," Kip went on. "He's so much fun." He winked then. "And he's soo handsome, too!"

Ricky and Adrian both laughed at that. Ricky's eyes especially glowed with humor, perhaps the idea of his uncle being someone's idea of a dreamboat just a little too much for the moment. "He's old enough to be your dad, Kip!"

Kippy tsked, and waved a hand at Ricky. "He looks a lot like you, only sensible and mature."

Adrian smiled at that, and then put his hand up to cover his mouth. Ricky made a rude noise, frowned at Kippy, and then turned and arched an eyebrow at his boyfriend. "Don't encourage him."

Adrian lowered his hand, but the smile wouldn't go away. "You're the one that poked the bear."

"Yeah, well." Ricky smiled again. "It will be fun to have my uncle along."

"I get a good feel from my skwish on it," Kippy continued. He smiled at Adrian. "What about you?"

Adrian was still a little uncomfortable with his new ability, which seemed to have grown considerably during their last adventure together. "Well...I don't feel anything bad."

Kippy laughed. "Sometimes that's the exact same as a good feeling!"

"I guess. It's just so strange to sense these things now."

Ricky leaned a little harder against his boyfriend's shoulder and smiled at him. "I can't think of a better person to figure it all out." He quickly let his eyes slide to Kippy. "And I'm sure you'll have help, if you get stuck."

Kippy smiled at that, and nodded. "Anyway I can. But he'll be fine."

"Did Uncle Bob mention taking the magic act?" Charlie asked Ricky. "It would be fun to do that again."

"No. But you know how that goes. We could decide we need it at any time, and Max could just wave a finger and the trailer would be right there in the room with us."

They all laughed at that.

"The magic act was fun," Charlie said, recalling their adventure in Twombly the previous Christmas. "It's cool to make people smile and laugh like we did."

Kippy leaned his head against Charlie and made a small purring sound. "If it's magic you want, there's always later tonight. I can make you smile and laugh, I guarantee it."

Charlie laid his cheek over into his boyfriend's hair and gave him a little squeeze. "I love you, but you're totally breaking my concentration. So be nice and shut up."

"I know I'm looking forward to this whole thing with the elves," Adrian said. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and the weather guy said there might be some snow. A white Christmas would be extra fun."

"There's always snow at the north pole," Kippy reminded.

Charlie laughed. "Or at an undisclosed location nearby."

Kippy looked at him and grinned. "Oh, yeah. I forgot that's where Max said Santa had his workshop, and all the elves lived." He gave a little shake of his head. "You go to the North Pole, take four left turns, and then you're there."

Ricky snorted at that. "Take four left turns and you wind up where you started."

"And your point? I'm not the one that drew that particular magical map."

"It's one of those side dimensions," Adrian offered. "One we'd never find on our own."

"We've been invited, so we don't have to find it on our own," Kippy returned. "All Frit said was that tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, we were all supposed to be here at Charlie's at one o'clock in the afternoon."

Ricky frowned. "I'm glad they didn't make it any earlier or any later. Uncle Bob said he and Aunt Susan would be at our place around noon. I already told my dad I was bringing Uncle Bob over here so you guys could say hi, and he said to come right back after that, because my mom is making a big dinner and they want to eat early."

"You will be right back," Charlie told him. "Only a few seconds will go by here while we visit with Frit and Pip and Max all day."

"And all night, if need be," Kippy added.

Adrian sighed. "Be nice to see Max again, too."

"And Nicholaas," Ricky put in. "He's supposed to be there, right?"

Charlie nodded. "And Nicholaas."

Briefly, he let his eyes wander to the carved piece of wood that had been given to him several years back. It was of Nicholaas leading his horse Kirka through the snow, their footprints visible trailing behind, even the smile on the face of Nicholaas rendered in amazing detail. The piece was created from a single length of dark red wood of some kind, and had held a place of honor atop Charlie's desk for two years now.

There was some potent magic in that piece of wood, in the scene it displayed, and in the figures of the two travelers upon the road at Christmastime. A force well beyond the magic of the delicate beauty it offered to the eye. Charlie could talk to the piece, and the head of Nicholaas would turn to look at him, and the man would wave; and Kirka would lift his head and give out a soft chuff in welcome. The piece also acted as a communications device of some sort, and Charlie always knew that if he really needed help, he could simply ask the little statues, and Nicholaas would hear.

Having Santa on your side was certainly a reassuring thing!

Each of the boys had a piece like Charlie's in his bedroom, similar but not identical, each ready to offer help and reassurance. These were true gifts, given with the heart, and always there if they needed them. So far they had used one of the scenes just once for something really serious - Kippy's little statues, to inform Nicholaas of the plight of the elves of Twombly. And, true to his word, Nicholaas had put in an appearance, and righted some old wrongs. Just thinking about it made Charlie smile.

"It will be wonderful to see Nicholaas again," he reiterated, nodding.

"It'll be great, you mean," Ricky returned. "Especially now that he has a girlfriend. Frit said he smiles all the time."

Charlie gave Kip another little squeeze. "He's feeling the love. I sure know what that's like."

Kippy sighed, and nuzzled him with his head. "Oh, Charlie, you say the sweetest things sometimes."

Adrian grinned at that, and snuggled against Ricky. "Can you say something sweet to me?"

Ricky looked uncomfortable. "Aww. You know I love you. What more can I add to that?"

Adrian nodded, and looked happy. "It's just nice to hear it now and then."

Ricky frowned. "I tell you I love you all the time."

"Oh, I know. But one more never hurts." Adrian turned his head and smiled at his boyfriend. "Does it?"

Ricky sighed, and smiled back. "Nope. I love you, and I want you to know it."

"I do know it. And I love you, too, Rick."

Kippy gave out a little sigh, and Charlie smiled at that. Kip was always made happy by seeing others happy. It was one of the things that Charlie loved about his boyfriend, that he had such a capacity to share good feelings. A little more of that in the world wouldn't hurt at all, he thought. Especially at Christmas.

"What did Frit say the lady's name was again?" Ricky asked. "It was something weird."

"Ronja," Kippy supplied. "And there's nothing weird about it if you're from Switzerland."

"I'm not, in case you never noticed," Ricky tossed back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean weird. I meant unusual." He smiled. "But it's pretty, really."

Adrian nodded. "I like it, too. I can't wait to meet her. If she can land Nicholaas, she must be special."

Charlie had to agree with that. "Frit said she was very sweet. And I trust Nicholaas to choose wisely. He has more experience than most people at finding a special someone."

Kippy grinned. "He has more experience than everybody. As old as he is, he should!"

Ricky sagged against Adrian and sighed. "What are we gonna do until tomorrow?" His eyes found Charlie's, and Charlie smiled at the warmth he saw in them. "I'm kinda excited," Ricky admitted. "I haven't felt this way since I was ten."

"I know how you feel," Charlie agreed. "Nothing to be embarrassed about there."

Kippy gave out a soft sigh. "Waiting for some things can be a real pain. Having ten days off school for winter break is cool and all, but I never thought there wouldn't be enough to do to keep us busy."

"We're having a nice time talking," Charlie pointed out. He smiled. "You love to talk, don't you?"

Ricky snickered, and Adrian gently slapped his boyfriend's arm.

Kippy turned his head and narrowed his eyes, but the action couldn't disguise the affection in them as he pretended to glare at Charlie. "Don't you start. I get enough of that from Rick."

Ricky and Adrian both laughed. "I only tease you because I love you, Kip," Ricky said. He was smiling, and even Charlie could see that the other boy was serious..

Adrian sighed and leaned his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. "You're forgiven."

It was Charlie's and Kippy's turn to laugh. Kippy reached across the gap between couples and patted Ricky's knee. "I love you guys, too." For emphasis, he gave Ricky's knee an extra fond squeeze.

Ricky looked down at Kip's hand and laughed. "Well, I'm horny! Anybody else?"

Adrian gave Ricky a gentle poke in his ribs with his elbow and then patted the blanket covering the cot. "We could, um, take a short nap right here."

Kippy turned and grinned at Charlie. "I'm kinda sleepy, too. Maybe a little under the blanket time would be fun!"

Charlie turned and looked across the room, making sure the door was locked, and then sat forward and began untying his shoes.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Kippy said delightedly, and bent over to get at his own laces.

The four of them got undressed, and then Adrian and Rick got into the cot while Charlie and Kippy pulled down the covers on Charlie's bed and crawled beneath them. The house was warm enough with the heat going, but winter always seemed to add a hint of chilly sparkle to the air even in a heated house, and snuggling under the covers with Kippy was just the thing to take the cool edge off the day.

They pulled the covers up, and Kippy wiggled close and kissed Charlie, then pulled back and smiled at him. "Feels like Christmas to me right now."

Charlie smiled and nodded. He let one hand slide down the warmth of Kippy's flank, to what waited below. "Me, too. Now, let's see...which present do I want to open first?"

Copyright © 2019 Geron Kees; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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I didn't get around to reading the previous one, but you did a great job of catching me up with the group so I could understand what is going on. :)  As always, this was extremely well written, and marvelously inventive. Elves! How wonderful... and Santa! Even better. At some point I will go back and read last year's adventure. Oh, how I wish that I could be two places at once. I expect their Christmases will be magical indeed. Brilliant stuff, buddy. I will do my best to keep up this time. Cheers... Gary....

Edited by Headstall
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5 minutes ago, Headstall said:

I didn't get around to reading the previous one, but you did a great job of catching me up with the group so I could understand what is going on. :)  As always, this was extremely well written, and marvelously inventive. Elves! How wonderful... and Santa! Even better. At some point I will go back and read last year's adventure. Oh, how I wish that I could be two places at once. I expect their Christmases will be magical indeed. Brilliant stuff, buddy. I will do my best to keep up this time. Cheers... Gary....

That's very kind, Gary. I admit to being in the same boat as you. I have little free time, and it's either write or read, usually, and that makes it hard to keep up with other's stories. We just got back a week ago from 10 days in Amsterdam for Sint Nicholaas Day, and I spent most of the week catching up with my business. I was lucky to get this story done early enough to post for the holiday!

There are seven parts, with the last posting at 12:01 AM on the 23rd. Hope you enjoy!

 

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Bubble Drive. I vaguely remember a science-fiction fantasy book I read in the ancient past that used some sort of bubble drive to power the space ships. I don’t remember how it worked or what the name referred to though…
;–)
 

How will I keep up with the embarrassment of riches that are here to read? Between following up on all the Reactions and Responses to the new chapters of this and Our Christmas Cookbook series, it’s a good thing I’m on Disability! But there are still other things I need to get done before the holidays.
;–)

1 hour ago, droughtquake said:

Bubble Drive. I vaguely remember a science-fiction fantasy book I read in the ancient past that used some sort of bubble drive to power the space ships. I don’t remember how it worked or what the name referred to though…
;–)
 

How will I keep up with the embarrassment of riches that are here to read? Between following up on all the Reactions and Responses to the new chapters of this and Our Christmas Cookbook series, it’s a good thing I’m on Disability! But there are still other things I need to get done before the holidays.
;–)

John Varley's novel Red Thunder and its sequels used a bubble drive. There is actually a genuine theory behind a drive that uses 'warp bubbles' for power, creating tiny warped bubbles of space-time and then popping them more or less on a specific side in a specific direction, loosing a rather insane amount of power. Even NASA is interested in it. 

But the engine that drove the delivery truck in this story was probably something else, altogether! Think Fizzies!

This story will be presented in seven parts. Part Two is, um, rather larger then the others, because there was no good place to break it in half. But the others should all be manageable, with the last posting just after midnight on the morning of the 23rd. I have noticed that a number of authors here lately seem unconcerned with the rules about two chapters per day, and eight hours between them, but I know if I stepped out of line I'd get caught! 

I have been an embarrassment to people before, but riches were never involved! :boy:

 

 

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23 minutes ago, Geron Kees said:

I have noticed that a number of authors here lately seem unconcerned with the rules about two chapters per day, and eight hours between them

Some seem to be allowed to break the rules. I’ve noticed one writer posing multiple chapters immediately after each other. On more than one occasion.
 

But the stories I follow conform to the supposedly mandatory restrictions regarding posting.
;–)

I did just finish (re)reading a story that was being posted two chapters per day, just after noon and midnight PST even though the author lives in the UK. I’m waiting for him to begin posting the next story in his series (while also reading a brand new story in the series on another site). 

🎄  🎁  :read:
And we're off on another wonderful adventure!  Even without knowing the past events at Twombly, a bubbly truck with Western Onion on it should give us a clue that fun times are ahead...
So Nicholaas has a partner now...I'm glad as he'd been pining away some while back.  Maybe this little celebration will go off without a hitch?  Sorry, what am I thinking...not in the Charlie Boone universe!

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1 hour ago, ColumbusGuy said:

🎄  🎁  :read:
And we're off on another wonderful adventure!  Even without knowing the past events at Twombly, a bubbly truck with Western Onion on it should give us a clue that fun times are ahead...
So Nicholaas has a partner now...I'm glad as he'd been pining away some while back.  Maybe this little celebration will go off without a hitch?  Sorry, what am I thinking...not in the Charlie Boone universe!

Aw...Charlie and the guys never get into any trouble. Well, much! :lol:

 

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5 hours ago, droughtquake said:

Some seem to be allowed to break the rules. I’ve noticed one writer posing multiple chapters immediately after each other. On more than one occasion.
 

But the stories I follow conform to the supposedly mandatory restrictions regarding posting.
;–)

I did just finish (re)reading a story that was being posted two chapters per day, just after noon and midnight PST even though the author lives in the UK. I’m waiting for him to begin posting the next story in his series (while also reading a brand new story in the series on another site). 

Shh! What you have just described cannot happen, so it didn't!

I tend to enjoy the stories by UK writers. There is a flavor to them lacking here. Not that Americans don't have a sweet flavor, too...they do. The difference is like chocolate. I like Hershey's, but it has always been different from Chococo on my palate! :)

 

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1 hour ago, Geron Kees said:

I like Hershey's, but it has always been different from Chococo on my palate! :)

You should try some tastier, higher quality chocolate. The Bay Area offers several much better options than the waxy Pennsylvania… stuff. Ghirardelli is now owned by Lindor, but it used to be owned by the same people as Rice-A-Roni, Golden Grain (a pasta brand), and their former factory is now a tourist destination near San Francisco's Fishermen’s Wharf. See’s Candy (owned by Berkshire Hathaway) uses Guittard Chocolate. There are others, but they aren't as widely distributed.
;–)

9 hours ago, droughtquake said:

You should try some tastier, higher quality chocolate. The Bay Area offers several much better options than the waxy Pennsylvania… stuff. Ghirardelli is now owned by Lindor, but it used to be owned by the same people as Rice-A-Roni, Golden Grain (a pasta brand), and their former factory is now a tourist destination near San Francisco's Fishermen’s Wharf. See’s Candy (owned by Berkshire Hathaway) uses Guittard Chocolate. There are others, but they aren't as widely distributed.
;–)

Oh, I HAVE tried better Chocolates, which is why I used Hershey's as the lower end of the spectrum. I can eat Hershey's, but it's not my preference by a long way. I'll have to try the two you mentioned. 

I'm partial to dark chocolate, and can recommend Pascha, Equal Exchange, and Alter Eco. Europe is chocolate heaven, and the brands there too numerous to list!

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7 hours ago, Ivor Slipper said:

"Christmas is a-comin'"

The little bubble truck is a very different proposition to the long line of HGVs bringing the product of a certain fizzy drink company, but I know which I enjoy more. 

https://youtu.be/ccNzBhTcehs

 

That's actually scary. I am not a soft drink person, valuing my teeth and my health. 

But it is kinda pretty to look at! :)

 

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