The First Christmas

Flavia walked from the bedroom into the common area of the house to find Cassius standing on a chair so that he could reach the lintel of the main doorway and hang a bull’s disembodied scrotum.

“Cassius,” Flavia said, “what are you doing?”

Cassius turned his head to face his wife, a broad grin on his face. “Io Saturnalia!” he said enthusiastically.

“Husband,” Flavia responded with concern, “do you not remember that we now worship the one true God? We should not participate in such wicked activities as Satunalia.”

Cassius climbed down from the chair he was standing on and walked over to his wife. “Dear Flavia,” he said, “I am a Christian, now and forever, but there is no harm in decorating for this holiday.” He reached out to embrace his wife, but she pulled away.

“I am troubled by your choice to put up decorations,” Flavia said walking to the window to closer examine the garlands that hung there. “This holiday is in celebration of the grace of Saturn, who is a false god. If we decorate as we have always done, are we not giving praise to a mere idol?”

Cassius moved the chair he had been standing on back to the table, sat down, and started eating some dried dates and figs from a bowl sitting there. After chewing in silence for some time, he responded. “I have no plans to attend any of the sacrifices that will be held during this or any other day of the celebration. I merely wish to participate in a few of the activities that I have enjoyed since my youth. I may wear my bright clothing and my hat of a freeman and decorate our home in the usual way, but that does not mean that my allegiance has reverted back to the false gods of this land.”

Flavia walked from the window and sat down at the table across from Cassius and began eating with him. “I am concerned that by participating in some parts of the celebration, our friends and neighbors will think that we are participating in them all. We took upon ourselves the name of Christ and promised to stand for Him and I worry that by trying to do some of these activities, we are not standing for Him.”

The couple sat in silence as they continued eating. After a few moments Cassius spoke up.

“Perhaps you are right. It just felt wrong to not decorate today, so I woke up early and collected some garlands and bought the bouquet of testicles from a traveling vendor. Even though we are now Christians, we are still living in Rome; it simply feels natural to be involved in Saturnalia, even if just superficially. However, I do not want to act against the will of the Lord. I will take down the decorations.”

As Cassius got up and walked back to the doorway, Flavia realized that she was happy that her husband had listened to her, but she was also saddened that he had to give up something that he enjoyed. If only there was a way to have it both ways. Suddenly, inspiration struck.

“Cassius, what if we were to adjust the celebration to be focused on Christ?”

Cassius paused in moving the chair to the door. He seemed skeptical. “Perhaps, but what would we change?”

“We could arrange a meeting during the same time as one of the sacrifices. Likely it would not be a standard meeting where we share the Lord’s Supper, but we could still sing and listen as the scriptures are read.”

Cassius smiled a little. “That sounds promising.”

Flavia continued. “And perhaps we can keep the garlands up, but let us take down the ox loins; we can replace them with some viscum album that I saw growing nearby. The white color of the fruit will represent the purity of the Lord.”

“What of the exchanging of gifts? Acts of charity cannot be unrighteous.”

“Agreed. We will keep the giving of gifts as well. The act of giving can represent the gift of eternal life that the Savior has made available to all who accept Him.”

Cassius was now grinning broadly once more. “This sounds like a most splendid plan. What will we call this new celebration?”

Flavia waved her hand dismissively. “That is unimportant. I am certain that we will devise a name with time. What is important is that we send the message to our brothers and sisters in Christ so that we may all celebrate and worship together as a mass of Christians.”

Cassius reached across the table and grabbed Flavia’s hand with his own, which she in turn squeezed tenderly. She was happy to have found the Church, but she was even happier to have a husband with whom she was able to share her faith. Truly, it was a Saturnalia, uh …new holiday miracle.

Origin

Excerpts from the journal of Jeffery M. Brown

October 29

Dr. Ramirez called today about the results of my cholesterol tests. It turns out that my “bad cholesterol” (whatever that is) is too high, but not by a lot. He recommended that I start taking fish oil every day. I think he’s overreacting a little, but I also think it can’t hurt to take an OTC supplement, so I bought a cheap bottle of generic fish oil capsules on my way home from work. I’ll get tested again in six months to see if it’s helping.

November 3

I know how this sounds, but I’m starting to notice some changes in my body and I think they’re being caused by the fish oil. Unless I keep my skin immersed in water, it dries out very quickly. In an attempt to combat the dryness, my skin is growing scales, especially on my hands. It’s like I’m turning into a lizard or … a fish. I can’t believe I just wrote that, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. I haven’t told Mom yet, because I know she’ll laugh at me, but if things keep progressing, she’ll have to believe me.

November 5

The skin problems are getting worse. My skin is flaking off in protest of not being constantly underwater. Not only that, but I’ve started discharging electricity at random times. I think the fish oil I’m taking must be mixed with electric eel oil as well. I’m trying to gain control of this ability as it might be useful. So far I’m just sending off sparks at random, but I think if I concentrate, I’ll be able to harness this new energy.

November 7

I controlled the electric discharges a few times today! I didn’t have complete control the whole day, but I was able to intentionally generate electricity more than once. Like at work, I took a break from folding sweaters to walk up to Alyssa; I touched her on the arm and I shocked her! She thought that it was just static electricity, which I’m happy letting her believe. It’s going to take more practice to fully control it, but if my assumptions are correct, I should be able to generate even larger electrical discharges before long. Maybe I’ll even be able to charge my phone just by thinking about it.

November 11

I’m not sure if I can continue taking the fish oil. I’m no closer to controlling my electrical powers and my scales are getting so bad that my hands are bleeding off and on all day. I even turned in worksheet today that had small smudges of blood on it. Plus, I don’t know where my changes will end. Will I grow gills and have to live in the ocean? Will I become cold-blooded? Will I lose my hands and grow flippers? The risks may be too great …

November 13

I called Dr. Ramirez and explained what was happening and told him that I couldn’t keep taking the fish oil. I didn’t want to tell him why, but he kept asking, so I told him everything. I expected him to laugh at me, but instead he was quiet for a while. When he responded, he apologized for not warning me. He said that there had been rumors (but no documented cases) of people having these kinds of reactions, but they were very rare. He said that the fish oil was still good for my cholesterol, but I could reverse the side effects by using lotion with cocoa butter. He explained that because fish are animals, their natural opposites are plants and cocoa is a powerful one. I told him that I already eat chocolate, but he said that the cocoa butter needed to be absorbed topically. Which makes sense: I’m being turned into a fish from the inside-out, so to reverse it, the antidote would need to go from the outside-in.

November 17

The cocoa butter is working. I’ve stopped discharging electricity and my skin is returning to normal. I am a little sad that I have to give up my super powers, but I know this is for the best. Besides, I probably wouldn’t make a very good hero since I don’t have a tragic origin story. Anyway, I’m sure that Alyssa wouldn’t be interested in a fish-man, so it’s better to stay a normal human. Maybe once I’m back to normal, I’ll finally ask her out.

The Hunt

Argus sat on the tree branch, waiting. The waiting was the hardest part of the hunt. Sharpening your weapons, reinforcing your cords, that was one thing: at least you were doing something. With waiting, all you did was, well, wait.

This hunt had lasted a few weeks, with little sign that his prey was close. In his youth, he had stalked his prey, but he now realized that wasn’t terribly practical – with each prey that came near, he’d have to change so much about his behavior to get close, and that was exhausting. So instead, he now puts out bait and sits, waiting.

Very subtly, Argus felt the air shift. The other creatures of the forest became very still and the silence that stayed behind was palpable. Now, the true test began. Argus gripped his lariat in his right hand, using only his forefinger to keep the loop in place, the excess cord held loosely in his left hand. All of his attention was focused on watching the tree line for his prey and being ready to pounce.

With little warning, four creatures exploded into the sky from the forest canopy. They flew without wings, propelled by some unknown force. Argus had only the briefest of moments to decide which prey to pursue. He could have chosen the fastest or the biggest one, but Argus had studied these creatures and knew that the best one to go after was simply the closest one. He adjusted his stance to a crouch and watched the flying creatures’ flight pattern. As soon as a creature was in range, Argus let his lariat fly. The cord found a home around the end of the long, rat-like tail and Argus let the coiled excess spill out. He watched the cord fly out after the lead and jumped from the tree just as the cord pulled his chest harness it was attached to.

This is where the hunt really got exciting, Argus thought as he climbed the cord up towards the creature. This close to his prey, he could see the details up close. The scales that covered its body were large and shimmering in the early morning light. The two limbs it had in place of arms were short numbs with a long, single claw attached to the ends. From his current position below and behind, he couldn’t see the head, but they all look about the same with their rodent-like teeth obscured by large, full lips and their soulless, black eyes, staring into nothingness. Truly, they are fearsome creatures to behold and many hunters have been intimidated on their first encounter, but Argus had grown accustomed to the chase.

He quickly scaled the cord and was soon climbing on to the creature itself. He had to move carefully to not cut himself on the sides of the large, hand-sized scales. His heavy boots and gloves provided some protection, but even some hunters that wore full armor had lost a limb simply to the scales. Every preparation in the world would mean nothing if one was careless in the moment. To help lend some stability, Argus pulled his pickaxe from its holster at the back of his belt. It was made from a previous kill’s claw, which was incredibly strong. With each swing of the axe down into the side of his prey, slowly moving Argus forward, the creature cried out with high-pitched, whistle-like screams, steam pouring out of the single nostril on the top of its head.

Despite the danger of traversing the creature as it swung its body about violently, Argus was soon at the head. He quickly holstered his pickaxe and unsheathed the sword on his back. The sword was built out of a bone from a previously killed creature with the edge made up of razor-sharp scales. He positioned the point of the sword directly over the nostril on the creature’s head – the only vulnerable part on the whole of the creature – and thrust downward. Rather than the whistle-like scream from before, the creature let out a deep bellow. As Argus’ body vibrated with the sound emanating from his prey, he pressed the sword deep into the creature’s brain, dark green blood pouring out of its head. Now the creature’s path was curving downward, unable to stay aloft through its mysterious means. Argus held tight to his sword, as much for stability as to ensure the death of his prey. Trees crashed around them as they plowed a path through the forest. With a thunderous crash, the creature met the ground, though it continued sliding for nearly a half-mile.

When the creature finally came to a stop, Argus – who was quite exhausted at this point – pulled out the mouth pipe from its loop on the left side of his belt. He took a deep breath and let out four distinct calls, a pattern that was unique to successful hunters. Soon, the village would arrive and help him harvest everything useful from his kill. He slowly began his climb down from the top of the animal. On the ground again, he took inventory of his extremities. Everything was accounted for, though he did have a few minor cuts and scrapes. Argus had known hunters that had lost fingers without realizing it, the thrill of the hunt had been so strong. If he had any wounds that needed attention, now was the time for it. However, without the need for first-aid, Argus sat down and leaned back against a still upright tree as he waited for the others.

He did not have to wait long. Just as he was truly getting comfortable, he heard the village’s chief call to him.

“Argus!” the older man called. “Quite the impressive jaub you have here.”

“Aye,” Argus called back, turning in the direction of his elder tribesman. “It will sustain our people for some time, Orion.”

“I think a jaub like this will offer much in food and textiles.” Orion was now in front of Argus and he extended his hand to help the other man to his feet. “I hope that the benefits of this one will also be bounteous, but we will not know for certain until we have sliced it open.”

“Please let me know the quality of the jaub when the assessment has been completed. Now excuse me, I must go and look for Eos.” Orion nodded and went to observe the deconstruction and appraisal of the newly landed jaub while Argus wearily began looking for his wife amongst the crowd that had formed. While he was searching, a hand lightly touched his shoulder, causing him to turn and look for the hand’s owner. He was met by the face of his wife, Eos, with her violet-grey eyes and reddish-blonde hair (though a few streaks of white had started to come in). She was carrying their young child, a boy named Aether.

“Quite the jaub you have landed, Argus,” she said to him, proudly. She turned to face Aether, “Your father is the best at finding and landing jaubs, young one.”

Argus looked at his little family, happy that he could provide a good life for them through his efforts. After all, everything comes from the jaubs that he lands: food, clothing, tools, medicine, even materials for their houses. In the past, hunters would go after other animals as prey, but no other creature provided as much to men as jaubs did, so now that was the only prey worth going after. Once the jaub was landed, other men and women of the village would deconstruct it down to the various components to be used. The various insides, called benefits, were especially valuable since they were essential components in medicines. However, no part of the jaub could be utilized without the jaub itself first being landed. In many ways, Argus thought, the hunter was the most important role in the village.

With his wife and child beside him, Argus slowly walked back to the village for a well-deserved rest. The hunt would begin again soon, but for now, he would enjoy his time off.