City of Thruth by James Morrow

Author:James Morrow [Morrow, James]
Format: epub
Tags: Sci-Fi Short
Published: 2010-03-07T17:36:00.562000+00:00

SEVEN

On the last day of August, at the height of a seething and intractable heat wave, Christmas came to the Center for Creative Wellness. Sleigh bells jangled crisply in the hallway; the triumphant strains of "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" flowed forth from a portable CD player; the keen verdant odor of evergreen boughs filled the air. I'll never forget the smile that beamed from Toby's dry, cyan face when his friend Saint Nicholas waddled into the room dragging a huge sack, a canvas mass of tantalizing bulges and auspicious bumps.

"Hi, Santa."

"Look, Toby, these are for you!" Sebastian Arboria opened the sack, and the whole glorious lot flowed out, everything I'd told Anthony Raines to bring down from the City of Truth, the plush giraffe and the android clown, the snare drum and the ice skates, the backgammon set and the Steve Carlton baseball glove.

"Wow! Oh, wow!" Toby tore off his oxygen mask; this time I took the action for what it was — a minor, meaningless gesture, not a sign of recovery. "For me —

they're all for me?"

"For you," said Sebastian.

Toby held his stuffed baboon over the edge of the bed. "Look, Barnaby. Look at all we got."

An entourage of HEART members appeared, a score of pixies, fairies, elves, and gnomes festooned with evergreen wreaths and mistletoe sprigs, streaming toward Toby's bed. One of Santa's helpers arrived pushing a hospital gurney on which sat a Happy Land even more elaborate than the layout my niece received after her burn (Toby's included a funhouse and a parachute jump, plus a steam-powered passenger train running around the perimeter). Three other helpers bore an enormous tree — a bushy Scotch pine hung with glassy ornaments, sparkling tinsel, and dormant electric lights, shedding its needles everywhere.

"Hi, everybody — I'm Toby," he mumbled bravely as the helpers patted his naked head and brushed his bony shoulders. "I've got Xavier's Plague, but I won't die. Children don't die, Dr. Krakower said."

"Of course you won't die," said the elf behind the gurney. A tall pixie in a feather cap, holly necklace, and leiderhosen marched toward me.

"I'm Anthony Raines," he said. I had anticipated his physiognomy in every particular but one; far from sporting a mustache, his lip was as hairless as a sentient Satirevian stone. "It's a privilege to meet someone of your spiritual intensity, Jack." A gnome connnected plug to socket, and the Christmas tree ignited — a joyous burst, a festive explosion, a spray of fireworks frozen against a green sky. As Toby clapped his hands — an effort that left him breathless and wincing with pain — the HEART members began caroling.

Oh, Toby, we're so sad

To hear you're feeling bad

But we can tell

You'll soon be well

'Cause you're a spunky lad...

"Santa, I have a question," said Toby.

"Yes?"

"Did you remember that, er ... that Power Pony?"

"Power Pony, what Power Pony?" said Sebastian with fabricated distress. He smacked his mittens together. "Oh, yes — the Power Pony." Hearing her cue, a slender female elf rode into

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