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    R. Eric
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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.
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Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 18. Chapter 18

I remember. How special you are, Daniel. Gone, but never will I forget. I love you.

As sad as what Peter and I had heard had been. We knew that Milo and Bren had celebrated many years together in Makarovia. Now, however, I found a new reason to celebrate Makarovia’s Thanksgiving. There was so much to be thankful for. It wasn’t just because of the many homosexuals there. There was Dr. Lowenstein who suffered, too. She was brilliant, but because she was female she struggled to become a doctor!? Added the fact she was Jewish!? She understood more than most modern psychologists and physiatrists knew today. There were Jews that remained in Makarovia. Most did go elsewhere after the war ended. They were welcome in Makarovia. We had some Gypsies that stayed. There was just so much to be thankful for.

Entering the kitchen, there was Boris cooking something. It smelled wonderful.

“That smells great!” Peter said.

Boris looked up smiling with a nod. “A little Makarovian Breakfast Hash. It’s easier as I use one pot to make it. I’ve got a million things to do for tomorrow.” He said but was pleased. “I will make it spectacular!”

“You don’t do anything that isn’t. We’ll help you, Boris.” I said.

“Then, make your own coffee.” Boris grinned as he pointed to the coffee maker with the utensil he was cooking with. “And stay out of my way.”

“Boris!” Peter said surprised but smiled. “That almost sounded…a little bitchy.”

“Good for you!” I said quickly very happy he was.

Boris shrugged. “I’ll be busy.” He waved at the table. “I have to get some things from the market and prepare...”

“Yes, of course, you do. We have hired help, Boris.” Peter pointed out.

“No,” Boris said sharply and quickly. “No. I buy for the family.” He put some of his hash on a couple of plates. “Now, eat.” He said putting plates on the table.

“Okay,” I said to all he just said. “I’ll just…make the coffees.” I was pleased that Boris was comfortable enough with us now to act more like a member of the family. I went to Boris, hugged him quickly as he worked and helped him with the plates and then made the coffees. Grandmother came down shortly thereafter and did the same thing.

“Is that Ukrainian Hash I smell?” She asked.

Boris cocked his head frowning. “I forgive you this time. It’s Makarovian Hash. Ukrainians used smoked sausage, I use two kinds of sausage and a few other spices. Let’s say…it’s a little spicier than Ukrainian Hash.”

Grandmother smiled. “Oh, excuse me. It smells wonderful. I’ll have some of your Makarovian Hash.”

I grinned at what was happening as I made our coffees. “You want a latte, Grandma?”

“Sure.” She nodded sitting down as Peter brought her the steaming plate. “Hot, not cold like yours.”

We had a nice day! The situation here was…getting so much better, for me. I was completely at home here. The newness of my situation was gone. The people here were my family. Boris, despite his words about how busy he would be…loved it. I am telling you the truth. What others would consider a challenge and feel the pressure to do a great job, Boris was smiling as he worked. No, you didn’t want to get in his way. He had it all planned in his mind when to do what and coordinated to do just that. Even Yuri knew better than to get in Boris’ way.

 

The next day was not much better in that, Boris again had things in his mind to do and when to do it. Like I said before, this was his domain. He was in charge of the house and especially in the kitchen. He was organized. Others there on staff offered to help, but one look from Boris and they backed off. I loved seeing that tongue of his sort of go to the side of his mouth as he worked. Our Thanksgiving Dinner was almost ready to happen.

It was three o’clock when we were told to gather at the table. Not in the kitchen or the formal dining room, but the one the family used. Remember? Across the hall from the formal dining room, but near the kitchen…but we saw Yuri doing something with a TV screen. It was big, but not one of the really big ones…35 inches was my guess.

“Are we watching TV?” Peter asked Yuri.

“No.” Yuri stood smiling as he typed quickly on a keyboard. “Someone else wanted to be here.”

The screen came to life and there were Olek and Helga! “Hello, Dear family!” Olek said greeting us.

“Olek!” Peter smiled seeing his brother and looked at his watch. “Isn’t it late there?”

Olek looked surprised. “Ten o’clock, that’s not too late.”

“It’s good to see you two.” I said to the TV. I saw the camera set up to send our image to Olek and Helga.

“Olek and I would love to be there, so this was the best we could think of to do,” Helga explained.

“This is the first Makarovian Thanksgiving,” Olek said.

“I think I know, but why wasn’t there one before?” I asked.

Olek didn’t even hesitate. “We had different thanksgivings, depending on who was in charge. We had the Ukrainian Thanksgiving, the Romanian Thanksgiving and lastly the Soviet’s version of Thanksgiving sort of.” He shrugged. “This is the first Makarovian Thanksgiving.”

“Eric and I are discovering more reasons to celebrate our own Thanksgiving,” Peter said as we moved to our places at the elegant table.

“I agree.” I nodded. “There were reasons before, but…” thinking how to word what say what I meant, “Makarovia is stepping out in the world. We’re known now by the world. For the uranium, yes, but also known for its place that came about during and after that horrible war. Not for just us,” I took Peter’s hand, “a lot of people had nowhere to go but were welcomed in Makarovia. Peter and I have heard from two that came there and…it was pretty grisly to hear, but…they were happy, in Makarovia. That was true for many Jews, Gypsies and others that came there. I have the recordings I can send you, Olek…Helga…it’s not pretty. In fact, it’s very sad. Their victory was Makarovian. With the help of a brilliant woman, a Jew, who also escaped, she helped not only Bren and Milo but many others. I am thankful for Makarovia. I’m thankful for some brilliance of kings that were self-sacrificing both now and in the past; leadership that deserves recognition. You, Olek, have been so vital for what’s happening in Makarovia now. No longer are people asking, Makarovia? Where the Hell is that!? They now know where we are. More important that they know what we are. For that, I am very thankful. Makarovia is the shining example to follow in their tolerance of all people, regardless of their differences. The world will see that.”

Olek nodded with a growing smile. “This will be the beginning of an annual event in Makarovia. We will have our own Thanksgiving from now on.”

 

It was nice. Having Olek and Helga there even by way of the computer was pretty good. Peter and I would see them in a few weeks. I was warned again by Olek, that it was very cold there. Being told and prepared was not the same thing. Peter and I insisted that both Boris and Yuri were to join us. No arguments. This was going to be a Makarovian Holiday, they were Makarovian. Of course, they had to join us. This time, the men from the United States came inside and stood for our Makarovian guards so they could have this holiday, too. The dinner was very good! The company was excellent.

The new week was starting and grandmother had to go home. She stood with her luggage as it was taken to the vehicle to take her to the airport.

She smiled at me and Peter. “I will be there a week before the wedding, but…” she shook her head. “I can barely stand the weather here in Boston now.” She chuckled. “Makarovia’s elevation and conditions there now…I won’t be there for Christmas or New Year’s.”

“We can come to you when we get back,” I said weakly knowing it would be difficult with security.

She nodded. “But it will be hard to do. I don’t think that will be a good idea.” She said understanding. “I will come to you in the spring.” She gave a nodding shrug. “I might join you before you go to Makarovia and fly with you?”

I nodded. “That would be great.”

“Of course, with that computer hookup, we can see and talk to each other whenever we like.” Grandmother said hugging me. “I’ll see you soon. I will miss you. You call me when you get there.” She hugged Peter. “I love you, Peter.” She said to him. “I can see the love you have for Eric.” She said to him. “You’re a good man, Peter. I’m proud to have you in my family.” She said kissing him on the cheek.

“Thank you, Grandmother.” Peter hugged her back. “We’ll keep in touch.” He promised.

 

Monday came! Finals. That week was…very tense. I went over the material. I never crammed. If I didn’t know it by now, I’d never pass the exams. I reviewed to freshen what I had learned. I had to convince Peter to do the same thing.

“You know it, Peter,” I said calmly to him as he studied beside me. “You can give it in English and Makarovian. Review what you know, don’t stress about it.”

He sighed. “Well, I am stressed!”

I nodded. “No,” I said putting the textbook he had on the floor I moved closer to him on the couch. “That stress will not help you remember,” I said. “It will make you doubt and forget. Keep your mind clear and be calm. You know all this.” I grinned. “Do I help you deal with that?”

He smiled. “And how are you going to do that?”

I moved to straddle his lap. “I can do all sorts of things. I did it before that interview with Anderson Cooper.” I said as my eyebrows danced.

Peter chuckled. “You do that often every day. I do it for you every day.”

“My doing it won’t help before you take the test?” I asked.

Peter chuckled with a shrug. “It won’t hurt. We do have different exam times.”

I nodded. “I’ll be there,” I promised kissing him tenderly.

“I will be there for you, too,” Peter said returning the kiss as he hands came up my back.

I know you know it by now. I love this man. Loving was no longer alien to us…it never really was, but now…it was just natural. Just a normal expression of what we both felt.

That week was…intense! As promised, I was there for Peter and he was there for me. Having contact with each other before the tests did not hurt.

          

It was as we packed and soon leaving, Don Wilson came to us.

“Okay.” He smiled. “You are confirmed to go on the Ellen DeGeneres show when you get back.” He said handing us a piece of paper that said the date and time we were to be there. “Hotel and travel are on there, but I think the transportation is a private one. They will be supervised by Yuri on rule compliance.” He handed another sheet of paper. “The Graham Norton show is later, just before you go back to Makarovia in May. Yuri is coordinating the transportation there.” He smiled. “You two are in great demand.”

I nodded looking at the papers. “Because we’re getting married.”

“Sure,” Don said quickly. “You have a lot of people that are supporting you. Including me! I’m not gay, but…I see this as getting the world aware that all people have rights and…I’ve seen you two. Just that first day, I could see it. I always prided myself in seeing love is love, but…you two certainly are in love. It is a momentous step forward.”

Peter nodded extending his hand to Don. “Thank you.”

 

We took off for Makarovia. All the preparations said did not even come close when we landed. When we landed, it was night and stepping off the plane. Oh, my god! It was freezing!! Below freezing, I found out. I was warned, I was, but damn! The temperature was bad enough, but there was wind! I was told it was five degrees below zero. I didn’t care if that was in Celsius or Fahrenheit. It was cold! Greeting us were three bears!! Not the story ones, but they looked like bears! Heavy fur coats on. Those thick fur covered hats where the fur moved in the wind. I had no idea who was who. Two of them had furs in their hands. One came forward and as he got closer, I saw it was Olek. He handed me one of those furs.

“I warned you,” Olek said to me smiling as I shivered and he held the coat up for me to put on. The other was held by a guard who handed the coat to Peter.

“You did.” I nodded as I put the fur on. “Normally, I would object to a fur. PETA be damned, if this does the trick, I’ll be happy to wear it.”

“They kept the animal warm that wore it, It will work for you.” Olek chuckled and placed another smaller fur on my head and pulled it down. “Winters here are not for the faint of heart...or…”

“The unprepared,” I said with Olek who nodded.

Olek chuckled again. “That’s right,” Olek said.

The coat did cut the sharpness of the wind and it did warm things a little, but it was still freezing.

“I’ll hug you when I can get to you,” I said to Olek. “Helga is at the palace?”

“She is, as is Alla,” Olek said and waved to the SUV. “They’re waiting…where it’s warm.”

The trip back to the palace was very nice. There was evidence that snow had been pushed to the sides of the road. I was pleased as we got into Stryia, there was snow building up, but not as much on the streets. They had worked to have those heating elements installed. It was working…a little. It was almost a losing battle against the snow, but it cut down that build up. What I also noticed, were the Christmas lights in Stryia. It was cold out, but they strung up lights that were burning merrily in the night. Trees that were in the city were decorated, too, but were snow covered but twinkled lights. There wasn’t much traffic.

“The tunnels are used now.” Olek explained as I looked at the festive lights. “There is a lot more underground. They decorate more down there.”

I nodded. “I can’t wait to see it.”

It wasn’t snowing now. The air was clear, the stars added to the lights around.

“You will be here for our Christmas?” Olek asked.

“January the 7th?” I asked. “Yes.”

Olek nodded. “Good.”

“I know, Eastern Orthodox begins the Christmas season on the 25th. The twelve days of Christmas begins.” I said to him.

“That’s right.” Olek nodded again. “Of course, there are the others in Makarovia celebrating Hanukkah this month and others. There are elements of Romanian Christmas, like the Christmas Pig on St. Ignat’s Day, that’s on the 20th of December. We combined St. Nick with Svyatyy Mykolay.”

I nodded again. “They are the same person also called Did Moroz. I did my research. I’m aware of the combining of cultures of both Ukraine and Romania. I’ll get used to it.”

The trip back to the palace was not quick enough. The driver had those spiked things on the tires to grip the ice and snow covered roads, so he drove slower, but well. Even with the heat on in the SUV, it still cold, but at least out of the wind. Once through the stone gate, we came into the covered area of the fortress area and got out quickly. Once in the fortress, we rode up the elevator to the palace. I now understood more and appreciated the smaller rooms with low ceilings. They held the heat! Those grand rooms like the gathering area and the ballroom were hard to keep warm! Those rooms were not freezing, but they were cool…about fifty degrees Fahrenheit. Once in the palace, we went to the family room where it was warm. Olek took his heavy fur coat off. Three gentlemen came and took our coats to hang up…wherever they were kept. It was then Olek grabbed Peter and hugged him. I looked to see Mom and Helga waiting and was hugged by both of them.

Olek let Peter go and came to me. “Welcome home, Eric.” He greeted and kissed me on the cheek. “Merry Christmas…early.”

I nodded as he held me. “Thank you, Olek. It is home for me now.” I assured him.

“You’re tired from the trip,” Olek said without asking if we were. “You know where your room is. It is ready now. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Peter took my hand. “We will need to rest and get used to the time change.” He looked at his mother and Helga. “We are together as a family. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

“Yes.” Mom smiled at her son. “We are family.”

 

We went up the stairs to our rooms. Again, I appreciated the design of the room now. I saw the thick fur over our bed and liked it was there. The fireplace was blazing and there were vents that blew the rising warm air into the room. It was pretty toasty! There were the extra pieces of wood for in the morning, but it was fine now.

“This is our home,” Peter said to me. “A home we will live in together from now on. I want you happy.”

I smiled looking away slightly and then turned back to him. “Peter. I am home. I am happy. You’re here, with me. I love you.”

He leaned in kissing me. “I know you do.” His arms slipped around me. “I adore you, Eric.”

I grinned as his lips traveled over my lips, down my face and to that place on my neck he knew well. “I believe you, two hundred percent.”

He chuckled. “Now, to make love in Makarovian winter.” He grinned as he pulled my shirt to pull it out of my pants.

“Why? Is it different?” I smiled.

He pointed to the bed. “Well, yes. You will like it better under that.”

I nodded pulling him toward the bed. “Let’s not talk about it and get under there.”

The bed was covered and…we did make love. It warmed things up pretty well! I again fell asleep with Peter spooned behind me. This is the way things were supposed to be.

Okay. A week in Makarovia, next week in New York and the VUN.
Copyright © 2017 R. Eric; 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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In some ways Makarovia is like the US. Blending holiday traditions from many cultures and religions to create its own traditions. Much more interesting because you can pick and choose the foods and activities that are the most interesting!

 

I helped serve a Tamale lunch to homeless people on December 24th – definitely not part of my own culture, but very tasty! My (white) sister-in-law once complained about always having steamed white rice with every holiday meal. But we almost always have King’s Hawaiian Sweet Rolls* too!  ;-)

 

 

* King’s Bakery in Honolulu created their own version of Portuguese Sweet Bread – a bread that sailors ate because it didn’t get stale as quickly as regular bread. It was originally known as King’s Portuguese Sweet Bread, but to avoid confusion the name was revised to refer to Hawaii instead of Portugal. The original version of the bread is baked and sold in an aluminum pie plate. It’s a very light, fluffy bread that also makes great French Toast!

 

The rolls are a variation that comes in a cardboard tray.

 

Apparently they not only bake their bread in Hawaii and in Torrance, California, but also in Georgia.

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I agree that Katrina has more of an idea of what the winters are like in Makarovia than what Eric does. Although I think that he figured it out when he and Peter got off the plane, Eric found out that he was really cold before getting a fur coat, possibly bear, to wear on the ride to the castle. Even though the SUV had the heater on Eric said it was still cold just not as bad do to the fact that they were out of the wind. Once they were back at the palace they all exchanged greetings and then went to their room to sleep, only Peter had another idea of what it would be like to make love in the Makarovian winter, of course they had a bear skin covering their bed and they would be underneath it. I'm glad that Peter, Eric, Katrina, Boris, Yuri and the guards from Makarovia were able to sit down and enjoy the first ever Makarovian Thanksgiving, and the whole meal was planned and prepared for by Boris, who wouldn't allow anyone to help him with it because he was cooking for the family and that was his job and his alone. I'm glad that Eric and Peter have a better understanding of what life was like for Milo and Bren even after the war and them deciding to stay in Makarovia when the war ended. I'm glad that Dr Lowenstein was there to help the people who had trouble with what they went through before coming to Makarovia. I can hardly wait for the wedding, but first a trip to New York to appear on the Ellen DeGeneres show. I hope that they go to the VUN-US while in New York. I can't wait for the next few chapters about the adventures of the VUN. You have a few great stories going on right now, I for one am loving each of them. 

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33 minutes ago, droughtquake said:

In some ways Makarovia is like the US. Blending holiday traditions from many cultures and religions to create its own traditions. Much more interesting because you can pick and choose the foods and activities that are the most interesting!

 

I helped serve a Tamale lunch to homeless people on December 24th – definitely not part of my own culture, but very tasty! My (white) sister-in-law once complained about always having steamed white rice with every holiday meal. But we almost always have King’s Hawaiian Sweet Rolls* too!  ;-)

 

 

* King’s Bakery in Honolulu created their own version of Portuguese Sweet Bread – a bread that sailors ate because it didn’t get stale as quickly as regular bread. It was originally known as King’s Portuguese Sweet Bread, but to avoid confusion the name was revised to refer to Hawaii instead of Portugal. The original version of the bread is baked and sold in an aluminum pie plate. It’s a very light, fluffy bread that also makes great French Toast!

 

The rolls are a variation that comes in a cardboard tray.

 

Apparently they not only bake their bread in Hawaii and in Torrance, California, but also in Georgia.

I agree with you that the traditions are being made to fit Makarovia now. I'm glad that we feel like we're able to make the holidays our own by combining the traditions of our ancestors to fit what we like now. I like the Kings Hawaiian rolls that we haveat Thanksgiving and Christmas. 

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2 minutes ago, R. Eric said:

That's why I write!  Those voices in my head are nonstop!!  I probably need a new medication.  :whistle:

I hope not, because your muse might not be able to help you with writing these great stories the way you do. 

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"5 degrees below absolute zero" 😆 I think our hero got a little carried away!

If a person is unprepared for the cold, it is life endangering. We loved in Winnipeg and walking to work at neg 47 is something that requires much prep. Driving is in fact easier; there is no mush and very little loose snow, its just too cold. 

I worry for grandmama. I hope she is alright.

Great story. Thanks.

 

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Just for the record, there’s NO temperature BELOW absolute zero.. or else it wouldn’t be absolute. But I understood the sentiment.I vividly remember  taking  two floridian teenagers to see their first snow. It was a hoot. But I had them outfitted for the cold in time. 

The reverse happened to me when I  first traveled to Alaska, expecting some forty below - which incidentally is the same in C and F scales, onl to find out it was warmer there than in the much further southern  place where I boarded my plane. Had to take two layers off! I got my forty below experience a bit later on in a windy night in an outhouse in the wilderness....but the northern lights made up for the shrinkage! And yes, fur and feathers work like a charm in the cold! For a blanket I’d recommend rabbit....

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YES YES YES!! I love you, love you, love you!😘 They are going to interview with Ellen! Thank you so so much.    Okay so I'm a little excited sorry😂. Thanks for the great news/chapter. Time to catch up with blueblood now I guess. Love your stories 😍.

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Just now, droughtquake said:

Told ya 17 hours ago!  ;-)

I was working at twelve hours shift!!  I didn't get it.  Okay?  I got it finally, my reactions were slow.  :heart:

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On 1/21/2018 at 12:36 AM, Butcher56 said:

but first a trip to New York to appear on the Ellen DeGeneres show.

Ellen tapes her show in LA. I think she lives in Malibu. She grew up in the other LA (the swampy one).  ;–)

 

On 1/21/2018 at 12:36 AM, Butcher56 said:

I hope that they go to the VUN-US while in New York.

How come you can mention a crossover, but @R. Eric scolds me anytime I hint at one?  ;–)

 

cc:@USA Reader 1  ;–)

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Winter snow temperatures below Friezin 😱😱no like.   I’m like grandma I 🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞love summer with the warm sun shining on my body 🌞🌞😂😂😂😂😂don’t like winters.

The story is great love it.

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