The first of today’s Christmas countdown treats was crafted by Tammy Farrell. Tammy usually writes historical fantasy, so I boomeranged her back the other way with the Time Travel genre. I could not believe my eyes when I received this story; you’re in for one hell of a Christmas cookie (somebody stop the Yuletide wordplay, for the love of God.) Not only does she teach us a time-travelling lesson about appreciating what we have, she delivers it in iambic pentameter. Seriously.
‘Twas The Morning Of Christmas
by Tammy Farrell
Twas the morning of Christmas and I was so mad. I opened my presents and found no Ipad. I got lots of gifts, some socks and some games, but not the one thing I’d asked for in vain.
My sisters were happy with all of their toys and my mother and father made snacks with the boys. So I stormed up the stairs to sulk in my room, I turned on my laptop and played with my phone.
I must have been tired and when I closed my eyes, I opened them up to a major surprise. My room was so different, the color, the bed, my laptop was gone and my heart filled with dread.
My Drake poster was missing, “Where did it go?” I examined the new one of a white guy named Snow. “This must be a trick,” I said with a laugh as I tore down the hall and ran into my dad.
He was reading a paper and what did I see? The date on the front page said 12/93! “Okay, fine, I get it. This joke is enough. I won’t be ungrateful now give back my stuff.”
Dad stared at me strangely, and then he walked on, “Why don’t you go play on the internet, Sean?”
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash and found a computer on a desk near the trash. I clicked on the button and to my surprise it made a loud screech like an owl at night.
When the loading was done and it seemed like forever, I typed the words google to search for time travel. After the hourglass was done with its turns, there was no web page, no answers, no search.
I ran to the next room to look for a phone and I stopped in my tracks when I saw my new home. The tree was lit up in the corner with care, but the room was so bright and all was pastel.
I looked to my sisters all sat on the floor and spotted a phone, bright pink on a board. Despite their objections, I picked up the phone and dialed a number to someone I know. But when the voice came I threw the phone down, “He’s not Jake,” the voice said, “And his hair is not brown.”
I raced to my brother and gave him a start as he blew on something called Mario Cart. “What are you doing?” I asked with look.
“Trying to get this dumb game to work.”
“What year is it, Mike?” I asked with a plea.
“Are you out of your mind? It’s 1993.”
“I’ve traveled in time. Something is wrong. Unless it’s a joke and you’re playing along?”
“You’re such a spaz. Go play with your friends. Stop bothering me and talk to the hand.”
I stood for a moment not sure what to say and remembered the tv and news of the day. They couldn’t change that, I knew they could not, so I ran to the den and fell on the spot. The tv was big like the one at my nana’s, it was brown on the sides and had wire antennas.
There was no remote so I pushed on the button, I turned at the dials but nothing would happen. I smacked at the side and it flickered and flared and then there was Rugrats and Fresh Prince of Bel-air.
I was losing all hope and went back to my room. I sat on my bed feeling nothing but gloom. I’m sure this was great for the people back then, but I missed the Xfactor, my iphone and friends.
I went to the desk and looked through the tapes, I found one I knew, closed the flap and pressed play. But I had to rewind it, the tape was near done, and when it finished spinning Bon Jovi came on.
I looked through my drawers to find pogs and a furbie, it opened its eyes and chirped at me wildly. I gave up my search, my mind in a clamber. I’m a 90’s kid now, dressed like MC Hammer.
When I fell asleep I was watching Full House, my eyes were so tired, I slept like a mouse.
And the morning it came when I heard a sound. My iphone was there beeping on the ground. I picked it up with a glistening eye and saw all the texts I’d missed through the night.
I ran down the stairs. It was still Christmas day. I hugged my whole family like I was insane. We opened our presents. I didn’t complain. I loved all the socks and the new Xbox game.
I thanked both my parents like they’d bought me the world. “We didn’t have these things when I was a girl.” My mom hugged me tight with a smile and said, “I will get you the ipad next week when I can.”
I thanked her again and told her forget it. “I don’t need an ipad for facebook and reddit. I know it’s expensive and I have enough,” I was telling the truth now, this wasn’t a bluff.
She looked so relieved with a tear in her eye. I’d never been grateful like this in my life. But it wasn’t all bad since I’d learned in my travels, that I liked Super Nintendo and Family Matters.
I watched DVD’s for the rest of the day and talked to my friends in the usual way. But just before bed, I found myself bored. I opened my iTunes and went to the store. I purchased the typical songs I would like, but ended up buying some Vanilla Ice.
No one would believe it, my travels in time, but perhaps I could show them the things that I liked. This was a good lesson, it wasn’t all bad, but I have to admit, I like what I have.
And I heard a voice whisper when the moon was so bright, “Merry Christmas to you, maybe now you’ll act right!”