The Last Christmas On Earth

"Harry?"

"Yes, James's son."

"Your James?"

"Is it possible that even in moments like these you have to start joking?" She scolded him, pushing him.

"Ok, sorry ... but then what is it?"

"You should tell me, you are the doctor, aren't you?"

Dr. Parker was deeply demoralized, despite his systematic attempts over the whole range of possible frequencies he had failed to restore the radio link that had been interrupted for a long time. He insisted day after day, trying and trying again, but his messages had always received as response the usual "bip", absolutely meaningless. He hypothesized that this silence could not have been due to a simple failure of the receiving station, because it had lasted for too long; it was rather as if no one was at the other end of the line. He came to the conclusion that, regardless of the cause, that trouble was not needed, at least not at that very moment and after another vain attempt, he switched off the device nervously. Establishing the link and keeping it alive over time had cost him years of hard work and experiments, and now, that the radio link had dissolved, he felt like a newborn abandoned on the stairs of a church. He wondered if it was necessary to inform Eve about it, but knowing that she would not take it well, he decided that for the moment he would not tell her anything. After all, he still had a few days left to try and get things back in order and hoped that sooner or later he would make it.

Thinking of Eve, he looked at his watch and found out that, as usual, she was late; soon the first patients of the day would have arrived and she could not brief him on developments before a couple of hours. And that long awaiting would have torn him inside because he was impatient to know if everything had gone according to plan.

Considering that there were still ten minutes left before the first appointment, he placed his finger on the power button of the device, uncertain whether to make another attempt or not, but when he was about to press it, someone knocked forcefully on the door. He looked at the monitor connected to the camera installed on the door and immediately recognized Mrs. Murphy, her appearance was unmistakable due to the red. smudged lipstick and to the platinum, blonde hair covered in part by the shawl. The old lady stood at the door and holding her Miao in her arms. She had thoughtfully wrapped it in a Scottish-style cover and was cuddling it as if it was a child. Dr. Parker slammed his foot angrily on the ground. Although he had explained to her several times that he was not a veterinarian, the woman had taken the bad habit of bringing the cat to the clinic at least once a week, and in one way or another, she always managed to force him to visit her cat.

James set the table and placed toasted bread, jam, spreadable butter, hot milk and orange juice on top, then went upstairs to call Harry.

"Professor, are you awake?" He asked quietly as he entered the room. He was convinced that he was still in bed, but his son was already washed and dressed, and like every morning he was placed in front of the telescope pointed at the Constellation of Orion. "Good morning, daddy," he greeted him smiling as if nothing had happened. Apparently, the events of the previous 48 hours had not left the slightest trace and James was happy.

"... I'm sorry but, can you see anything during the day?"

"No, I don't see anything ... but it doesn't cost anything to try, does it?" The boy answered making his own the phrase that his father so many times had used to convince him to try something when a challenge seemed terribly difficult.

"You're right," James confirmed, returning his smile.

Harry got up and applied the cover to the telescope lenses, then put on his glasses and adjusted his bangs.

"Apparently, we'll have to go and choose new glasses later," said James.

"I think so ... and then we should also go and get back the fishing gear," the boy replied guilty.

"Agree, but first we will face the most important things. We can go back to the fishing rod in the afternoon, you can be sure that no one will steal it from you. We need to buy new glasses, but first I suggest you to run downstairs because breakfast and a nice surprise are waiting for you!"

"A surprise? What is it? " Harry questioned him, starting to hop from one foot to the other as he always did when he was excited.

"Slow down Professor, if I tell you now what kind of surprise would it be? You'll see it when the time comes, now let's go down," James replied, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry showed an unusual appetite and James considered it a good sign, at the end of the breakfast the boy smiled at him satisfied and looked at him intrigued.

"What are you staring at?" His father asked him, pretending he had already forgotten the promise he had made to him. He frowned.

"It's right there," James said, amused, pointing to the room, "go see it. I finish washing dishes and I'll join you."

The boy excited ran to open the parcel covered with an anonymous yellow paper, discarded it and at the sight of its contents exploded in a shout of joy.

"... I don't believe it!" He exclaimed excitedly continuing to lift the pieces to examine them one by one against the light.

"It's all transparent, so even from the outside you can study the inside of the pyramids and the Sphinx," James explained to him sitting at his side, and the boy rushed to embrace his father so strong that he almost choked him.

"Hey, watch your arm or we'll have to go back to the doctor."

"Thanks, Dad," said Harry, moved.

"I knew you would like it," said James satisfied.

"Will you help me assembling it?" The boy asked hopefully.

"You know I don't have the knack for it, it takes too much patience. And then the professor of Egyptology in this house is you. That's what we are gonna do: now you get to work and I go to fix up the garden, you should see how bad violets are reduced. If I can't fix it in time I don't really know where we will put the Christmas tree this year. As soon as you finish you'll call me and I'll come to admire your work, then we will go for the glasses ... agree?" Proposed James.

"All right," Harry replied absently after almost a minute, his words were coming from far away because he had already begun to arrange all the pieces neatly on the floor.

"Then I go," James concluded without getting any answer. Harry was already completely absorbed in his new task.

Helen and the Coroner were seated facing each other in her office, she continued to examine the photographs taken that morning where the corpses were discovered, perplexedly. She was very sure of having checked that area personally during Harry's research and, like her, many other people, some even accompanied by dogs, had been in that part of the wood.

She kept telling herself that at least the latter should have noticed something; how was it possible that no one had noticed a pink convertible Cadillac with two people on board? It was true that the research had taken place in the middle of the night, but it had been a fairly bright night and what's more, the area was not very thick.

"I have a really nice tiger by the tail, I don't envy you at all!" Stevenson said just to break the silence, he had finished his task and was waiting for Helen to dismiss him because he had many other matters to deal with that day. She continued to scan the photos without answering, so he took an aluminum foil from inside his jacket and started to open it.

"Yeah, just a nice tiger. I don't even know where to start!" Helen answered after a moment. "Do you think that ..." she took his eyes off the pictures and as she saw the Coroner she stopped horrified, because he had just snapped a sandwich filled with roast beef and green sauce, and a trickle of reddish liquid had slipped down his chin to ooze on his shirt.

"What?" He said innocently.

"This is too much!" She snapped up.

"But why? What's wrong?" He protested.

"Get out! Get out of this room immediately!" Helen snarled, grabbing him by the jacket and pulling him out of the chair with force, dragged him to the entrance and thrust him out.

"Females shouldn't do certain jobs," Stevenson said with his mouth still full from behind the door.

"I don't want to see you or hear you anymore," she said furiously.

"Anyway, if I were you, I'd try first to track down the caller," the doctor shouted as he moved away, then started mumbling his sandwich again, wondering what he'd done that was so terrible. Helen let her shoulders slide down the door, holding her breath, struggling against her stomach to not give up to gagging. She managed not to vomit by a whisker; as soon as the crisis had passed she opened the window searching for some fresh and clean air because she was sweating cold. She let a few minutes go by, when she judged that her stomach had completely subsided she returned to her desk and pressed the intercom button.

"Yes, boss," Cindy answered from the switchboard.

"I want everyone in the meeting room within twenty minutes," she ordered while continuing to rub her little finger against the rough fabric of the side pocket of her trousers because she felt again it pricking intensely.

"But Sheriff, the agents are almost all out," Cindy objected.

"I don't give a damn, tell them we have bigger fish to fry and to let whatever they're doing go."

"All right, boss, I'll do my best."

Helen hung up and took the report written by the agent Mario Benelli, who had been the first to arrive at the dumpsite. She sighed and read it again for the tenth time, continuing to scratch his finger more and more furiously.