When Tom woke up on the morning of the twenty-fifth at quarter of seven, he found Stu already up and cooking breakfast, which was something of an oddity; Tom was almost always up before Stu. There was a pot of Campbell's vegetable soup hanging over the fire, just coming to a simmer. Kojak was watching it with great enthusiasm.
"Morning, Stu," Tom said, zipping his jacket and crawling out of his sleeping bag and his shelter half. He had to whiz something terrible.
"Morning," Stu answered casually. "And a merry Christmas."
"Christmas?" Tom looked at him and forgot all about how badly he had to whiz. "Christmas? " he said again.
"Christmas morning." He hooked a thumb to Tom's left. "Best I could do."
Stuck into the snowcrust was a spruce-top about two feet high. It was decorated with a package of silver icicles Stu had found in the back room of the Avon Five-and-Ten.
"A tree," Tom whispered, awed. "And presents. Those are presents, aren't they, Stu?"
There were three packages on the snow under the tree, all of them wrapped in light blue tissue paper with silver wedding bells on it - there had been no Christmas paper at the five-and-ten, not even in the back room.
"They're presents, all right," Stu said. "For you. From Santa Claus, I guess."
Tom looked indignantly at Stu. "Tom Cullen knows there's no Santa Claus! Laws, no! They're from you!" He began to look distressed. "And I never got you one thing! I forgot... I didn't know it was Christmas... I'm stupid! Stupid!" He balled up his fist and struck himself in the center of the forehead. He was on the verge of tears.
Stu squatted on the snowcrust beside him. "Tom," he said. "You gave me my Christmas present early."
"No, sir, I never did. I forgot. Tom Cullen's nothing but a dummy, M-O-O-N, that spells dummy."
"But you did, you know. The best one of all. I'm still alive. I wouldn't be, if it wasn't for you."
Tom looked at him uncomprehendingly.
"If you hadn't come along when you did, I would have died in that washout west of Green River. And if it hadn't been for you, Tom, I would have died of pneumonia or the flu or whatever it was back there in the Utah Hotel. I don't know how you picked the right pills... if it was Nick or God of just plain old luck, but you did it. You got no sense, calling yourself a dummy. If it hadn't been for you, I never would have seen this Christmas. I'm in your debt."
Tom said, "Aw, that ain't the same," but he was glowing with pleasure.
"It is the same," Stu said seriously.
"Well - "
"Go on, open your presents. See what he brung you. I heard his sleigh in the middle of the night for sure. Guess the flu didn't get up to the North Pole."
"You heard him?" Tom was looking at Stu carefully, to see if he was being ribbed.
"Heard something."
Tom took the first package and unwrapped it carefully - a pinball machine encased in Lucite, a new gadget all the kids had been yelling for the Christmas before, complete with two-year coin batteries. Tom's eyes lit up when he saw it. "Turn it on," Stu said.
"Naw, I want to see what else I got."
There was a sweatshirt with a winded skier on it, resting on crooked skis and propping himself up with his ski poles.
"It says: I CLIMBED LOVELAND PASS," Stu told him. "We haven't yet, but I guess we're gettin there."
Tom promptly stripped off his parka, put the sweatshirt on, and then replaced his parka.
"Great! Great, Stu!"
The last package, the smallest, contained a simple silver medallion on a fine-link silver chain. To Tom it looked like the number 8 lying on its side. He held it up in puzzlement and wonder.
"What is it, Stu?"
"It's a Greek symbol. I remember it from a long time ago, on a doctor program called 'Ben Casey.' It means infinity, Tom. Forever." He reached across to Tom and held the hand that held the medallion. "I think maybe we're going to get to Boulder, Tommy. I think we were meant to get there from the first. I'd like you to wear that, if you don't mind. And if you ever need a favor and wonder who to ask, you look at that and remember Stuart Redman. All right?"
"Infinity," Tom said, turning it over in his hand. "Forever."
He slipped the medallion over his neck.
"I'll remember that," he said. "Tom Cullen's gonna remember that."
"Shit! I almost forgot!" Stu reached back into his shelter half and brought out another package. "Merry Christmas, Kojak! Just let me open this for you." He took off the wrappings and produced a box of Hartz Mountain Dog Yummies. He scattered a handful on the snow, and Kojak gobbled them up quickly. He came back to Stu, wagging his tail hopefully.
"More later," Stu told him, pocketing the box. "Make manners your watchword in everything you do, as old baldy would... would say." He heard his voice grow hoarse and felt tears sting his eyes. He suddenly missed Glen, missed Larry, missed Ralph with his cocked-back hat. Suddenly he missed them all, the ones who were gone, missed them terribly. Mother Abagail had said they would wade in blood before it was over, and she had been right. In his heart, Stu Redman cursed her and blessed her at the same time.
"Stu? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, Tommy, fine." He suddenly hugged Tom fiercely, and Tom hugged him back. "Merry Christmas, old hoss."
Tom said hesitantly: "Can I sing a song before we go?"