The Last Christmas Gift
A somewhat sad Christmas story.
"Hey Fawkes, come look at what I found while coming home from work." Barry yelled out to his son as he walked into the door, dropping his tools in the short hallway, the heavy metal making a dull thud. He was surprised when the thudding continued, getting louder and louder before he realized what it was and readied himself. The thudding was caused by the 13 year old snow white fox, who he had called for earlier, as the kit ran across the hard wood floor before tackling his father. "Dad your home!" he cried as he nuzzled his father's shirt, his paws wrapping around the older fox who mirrored him exactly, and his tail wagging happily. "Yes, yes I'm home, now come out and look what I got us." Barry said as he picked up his son, struggling slightly, and carried him outside. "You're getting heavy." He complained before setting the younger fox down in front of his beat up old dodge truck. "Dad, all I see is your truck." The young kit said, his face falling slightly as he was expecting something really cool from the way his dad had been talking. "It's behind the truck you silly kit." Barry said ruffling his son's head fur before leading him around the truck and showing him the old rusted out muscle car. "Do you know what it is?" He asked trying to see if his son loved muscle cars as much as he said he did. "It's a 1970 Oldsmobile 442, with a 400 small block V-8!" Fawkes said rambling off the specs like it was his favorite meal at a restaurant. Barry smiled down at his son, proud that he had known the correct answer. "That's right and now it's ours, if you help me restore it that is." He said laughing at the wide eyed expression his son gave him. "Really! Will I get to drive it?" Fawkes asked excitedly, almost bouncing on his footpaws. "Yes once it's done and your old enough, but let's head inside and start planning the colors and everything before we get started. Also don't expect this to get done overnight, it's going to take a few years." Barry said steering his son towards the house, having to fight with him to get him to stop staring at the car. "Oh and by the way merry Christmas, I hope you like your gift." Barry said laughing hard as his son almost fainted on the spot.
Two years later.......
"Fawkes hand me a 5/8 deep socked, and hold this light for me." Barry said as he aligned the carburetor with the intake manifold and tightened the bolts down, connecting a few of the vacuum hoses before his son got back. "Here you go dad." Fawkes said handing him the tool and lending a hand with the hoses, one paw connecting them and the other holding the light. "Okay I think we are ready to fire her up." Barry said as he admired the work they had both done to the engine. The rest of the car needed to be sanded down and the rust spots needed to be filled. Then the car needed to be painted and the inside redone, but mechanical wise the car was finished. "Oh can I do it?" Fawkes asked giving his dad the exact same look he had when he was first shown the car. "Sure, the keys are in it." Barry said laughing again as his son almost tripped over his feet to get to the car and sit in the rotted out seat. "Okay turn her over." Barry added once Fawkes was ready. Fawkes wasted no time and gave the key a turn, pumping the gas pedal just as he had been told. After a few seconds of nothing but the engine being spun by, it sputtered and roared to life with a loud backfire. As the plume of blue smoke cleared slightly Fawkes gave his newly awoken engine some more gas and it revved louder in response. "Okay enough playing around, leave it running and get out here, we still need to tune her up." Barry said as he took out a screwdriver and showed his son how to change the gas/air mixture to make the car run either lean or rich. "So is this a better Christmas present that the year before last?" Barry asked, rubbing Fawkes's head fur. "It sure is dad, now she actually runs." Fawkes said giving his dad a big grin.
One year later.....
Fawkes groaned and tried not to fall asleep during his tech class. He was going to Tri-County Technical or TCT to become a certified mechanic and follow in his father's footsteps. The only problem was he knew everything the teacher was trying to teach him and had actually corrected the teacher several times. "Mr. Softpaw, I know you already know this, but can you at least pretend to be paying attention, if the administrator comes around and sees you like that I get in trouble." Mr. Scott, a tall and very skinny Jaguar, said to Fawkes as he caught the young fox sleeping in his class again. "It's not like I en...." Mr. Scott began but was cut off by the phone in his office ringing. "I swear they have the perfect timing." He said as he was interrupted right in the middle of his teaching for the third time that day. After he had went to his office all the students began talking at once, their voices becoming one loud noise which caused Fawkes to just put his head down and try to go back to sleep. "Fawkes, I need to see you." Mr. Scott said surprising Fawkes as the teacher had never used his first name. "Yes Mr. Scott?" Fawkes asked after he had walked into the teacher's office and shut the door. "You need to leave right away and head to the hospital, your father's been involved in a hit and run accident and is in the ER." Mr. Scott said his usually tired eyes looking almost ancient as the sadness of the situation wore him down. Fawkes just stood there for a few second trying to process what he had been told before running out of the classroom, ignoring any and all questions thrown at him. He made it to his car before the tears hit. The sudden blurred vision making him drop his keys as he fumbled for the one that would unlock his crappy beat up Honda. After several more drops and a few curses he finally got the door open and the car started. On his way to the hospital he broke every driving rule he knew, speeding by at least 20mph and power sliding through one turn without even touching the brakes. When he finally got to the hospital ten minutes later, normally a 35 minute drive, his arrival was announced with the sharp squeal of rubber as he braked hard almost right in front of the doors to the ER. After blubbering out his question of where his dad was, the tears now streaming down his face unchecked, he ran down the hall in the direction the nurse had pointed. Once the door opened and he saw his father all crying stopped and he was stunned into silence. His dad was covered in white bandages that were almost dripping blood. "I was on my way to give you your early Christmas present when she died on me." Barry said, his voice barely audible and barely noticeable as his own. Fawkes knew that by "she" his dad was talking about the 442 they had restored. "I got out and someone in a bright colored truck sideswiped the car, taking me and the door off into a ditch." Barry said his voice getting rough as his damaged lungs tried to force air though his vocal cords. "here I managed to hold onto your present." He added with his best try of a smile, holding his paw out to Fawkes and dropping a set of keys into his son's opened paw. "She's yours." Barry said before coughing violently, sending blood flying from his mouth and a small trickle of it from the side of his muzzle when he stopped. "No dad, you can't go yet." Fawkes said simply, as if saying so would make it so. "Don't worry about me, that isn't your last Christmas present ever from this old fox." Barry said smiling, then with one more intake of air he slipped away a sigh the last thing to leave his muzzle before he was silent. "No... dad.... no." Fawkes said quietly as he sank to his knees, sadness and anger welling up inside him and threatening to overwhelm him. A doctor came walking slowly into the room. He was an average husky of about an average height and build. "I'm sorry we couldn't do anything more to help." The doctor said placing a paw on Fawkes's shoulder. The simple touch was all it took to destroy Fawkes's control on his emotions. He stood up so fast that the doctor yelped in surprise. "IT WAS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Fawkes yelled as his fist connected with the doctor's jaw, snapping it in two. "YOU DIDN'T TRY, YOU DIDN'T CARE, YOU DON'T CARE!" He continued to yell as his fists continued connecting with various parts of the husky. A red haze covered Fawkes's eyes as he continued swinging, no longer feeling anything but pure rage. He spent that Christmas in jail.
One year later.....
Fawkes was just driving and enjoying the sound of the V-8 engine as he cruised down an industrial road. The black and gold 1970 Oldsmobile 442 drawing the attention of every trucker he passed as he pushed the petal to the floor and let the car sprint every now and then to get around a slow moving truck. He was surprised to see truckers on the road during Christmas eve, but he supposed that someone had to work on the holiday. He really didn't care much about the world anymore, though he had driven most of it. After his dad had died and he got out of jail he took the life insurance money, 2.5 million, and just took off driving. He had always loved driving, it relaxed him, and after the death of the closest person to him he needed a lot of relaxing. So for the past year he had been driving in random directions at random times, never staying anywhere for longer than a few days. He found it slightly ironic that on the anniversary of his father's death he was back in his home town. After a bitter laugh, the tears started up, blurring his vision and making him drift to one side of the road and then the other. As he tried to stop the tears they only came harder and he began to sob, "Why dad? Why did you leave me? Why?" he asked the air. "Because it was my time as it is now yours." A voice said right next to him. Looking to the side he saw his father sitting right next to him Just as he was the day before his accident. Fawkes was so shocked that he didn't notice the red light he had just went through, but he did notice the big green eighteen wheeler as it slammed into the driver side of his car. He didn't feel anything just saw the bright light of the headlights that were now pressed against his head and the jagged piece of steel that had been pushed through his chest. As his vision started to fade and his life spirited out of the hole in his chest. He blinked.... And he was sitting at the red light, the car idling with its low rumble he had loved sense the very first time he had heard it fire over. He was about to brush it off as having fallen asleep behind the wheel when the same big green truck blew through the intersection. Then from beside him he heard his father's voice, "And this is the last Christmas present from me, I love you Fawkes, merry Christmas."