G.U.A.R.D. Book #1: Clandestine

-6-

    The next day was the twentieth. We decided to finally start decorating for Christmas. It was hard to forget the previous day's events. The parents acting weird. Dustin waking me up in the middle of the night. But I did my best. I mean, it was Christmas! Time for family. Because we were a family. A completely normal family.

The room began to come alive with Christmas lights and the smell of cinnamon-scented candles. We rearranged the furniture to make room for the tree. We brought up several cardboard boxes from the basement. They now sat on the coffee table, opened to reveal the Christmas decorations within.

"Alright," Mom sighed, taking a step back from the tree. She looked to Dad, who put an arm around her. "Think that's enough?"

I stepped up next to them, mug full of hot chocolate in hand. Dustin was on the other side. He looked tired, a little... confused. But he still helped us. The four of us studied the tree. It wasn't too tall, with a musty smell from being locked away in a box year round. We'd had it for around seven years. The last one burned up when Dustin accidentally let one of the needles touch a flaming candle. Lesson learned: always keep an eye on your brother.

Warm lights shimmered almost magically around the tree. The ornaments we had managed to collect over the years almost seemed to be winking at each other in amusement at their petty human owners. I recognized the silver, circular one Winter and I made together. It read in clear, green and red words: Merry Christmas to all! -Winnie & Al

Then there was that wooden cross Dad gave Mom on their anniversary. And a plastic puppy Dustin painted when he was six. Of course, there was also the plastic kitten I painted at the same time. But, then, I couldn't forget the family picture, or the photo of Roo from Winnie the Pooh. Winter gave that to me the Christmas after I gave her Pooh Bear—a play on her nickname "Winnie."

As I looked at each and every one of the ornaments, I realized just how many memories they all had. Some happy, some sad. But memories, nonetheless. I suddenly itched to retrieve my sketchpad, wanting to draw this beautiful masterpiece in front of me. But I looked to the others, and I realized I couldn't risk a family moment like this. It was just too rare.

What did that say about us?

"We still have to put the topper on," Dad told Mom.

"Which year is it?" Dustin asked.

Retrieved from my thoughts, I shook my head with a sigh. "Only our family would do this."

"Don't be so sure," Dad answered, putting his free hand around my back, the other one still holding Mom. "Those Hunters can be a handful."

I rolled my eyes, but a smile still grew on my lips. "Okay. Good point."

"It's our weird year," Mom said. "So that means the abnormal topper."

I smiled at our strange tradition. Every other year, we would use the Bethlehem star as the cap of our glorious tree. But then there was the weird years, where we would use our, as Mom called it, abnormal topper.

Dustin reached in one of the smaller boxes and came out carrying a white plate that looked similar to a speech bubble. Catching a small glimpse, but already knowing what it said, I read the words again. In green, it said Dear Santa, and in red, it uttered, I can explain...

So, yeah. It was our "abnormal" topper.

Dad found our stool in the kitchen and placed it next to the tree, where he stepped on it and reached out his hands to Dustin. My brother handed him the white speech bubble, and Daddy, with a triumphant look on his face, planted it on top of the tree. I saw Mom grin at my father, and I could tell how much she loved in. Something like that couldn't be faked. My parents were genuine. No matter what Dustin said.