The Christmas Carol
by Angela Rivieccio



Ray rushed down the stairs, straightening his tie. His family
was scattered about the house, his sisters upstairs dressing for church
while his brother-in-law watched TV. His nieces and nephews, up past
their bed time for this special occasion, were dozing on the couch.
He found his mother in the kitchen, deep in preparations for the
next day's feast. She looked up as he entered. "You're early, Ray.
You're sisters won't be ready for a while yet."
"I'm going to stop by Fraser's and invite him over for Christmas
dinner tomorrow."
"You mean you haven't invited him yet?"
"The couple of times I was able to reach him at the consulate he
was too busy to stay on the phone more than a minute or so. I think his
new boss is testing him -- putting him through his paces."
"She might just be trying to establish her authority," his mother
stated, whacking Ray's hand as he reached out to sample the struffoli.
"And I tried catching him after work earlier this week, but he
wasn't home."
"Maybe he had some last-minute Christmas shopping to do."
Ray frowned. He knew from the previous Christmas that Fraser
only bought one present -- Diefenbaker's. He didn't think that number
would expand by much this year. He glanced at his watch. "I gotta go.
I'll meet you at the Church. Save me a seat." He gave his mother a kiss
on the cheek.
"Drive carefully."

----

Ray knocked on the door of apartment 3J, expecting to find Fraser
at home reading some obscure book on waterfowl of North America, or even
another one of his father's journals, but was instead greeted by
silence. He knocked again. "Hey, Fraser. You in there?"
"He's not home."
Ray turned to find Mr. Mustafi had poked his head out of his
apartment. "You know where he is?"
The man shook his head. "No... He's been out every night this
week--him and the wolf."
"Alone?" Ray's curiosity got the better of him.
"Yeah..."
"Uh, thanks. Merry Christmas."
Mustafi nodded. "To you, too." Then he closed his door, leaving
the detective alone in the hall.
Ray fingered the wrapped gift in his coat pocket. He had hoped
to give it to Fraser tomorrow at his house, but on the off chance the
Mountie had other plans, he'd brought it with him. He hadn't seen Fraser
much in the past couple of weeks. Now that she had decided he could
remain at this posting, Thatcher no longer gave him such choice
assignments as running her laundry to the dry cleaners, and was keeping
the Mountie very busy. Ray thought that Fraser probably preferred it
that way, being alone for Christmas and all. Having grown up in a large
family, Ray couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to have
to spend the holidays alone. Fraser was probably used to it by now.
Even when his father had been living, they were posted thousands of miles
away from each other, and had not been together during the holiday
season. He may have gotten used to it, Ray thought to himself, but
that doesn't mean he likes it.
He checked his watch, then sighed. He'd have to leave now in
order to get to the Church in time for Midnight Mass. "Merry Christmas,
Fraser..." he said softly as he headed for the stairs.

----

Ray was nearly out of breath by the time he sat down in the pew
with his family, having to park the Riviera several blocks away from the
Church and walk swiftly so as not to be late for the service. His mother
leaned over and whispered, "Did you see him?"
"Nah, he wasn't home." He would have continued, but the organ
music began to play, announcing the start of the Mass.
In the balcony, the choir sang as the re-enactment of the world's
most sacred night began. To the left of the altar was the set of the
doorway that was the Inn, and to the right was the stable, with
representations of barn animals and a manger filled with hay. Every year
the Church performed the same play, from Joseph and Mary being turned
away from the Inn to the Wise Men arriving bearing gifts, yet it never
failed thaw out some of the cynicism that dealing with the dregs of
society day-in and day-out built up in the Italian detective.
As the Three Wise Men began walking down the aisle towards the
stable, the first strains of "Adeste Fideles" flowed from the organ, then
a strong male voice began to sing.
Ray's eyes widened as his head snapped around.
In the middle of the choir stood the Mountie, the soft lights
reflecting off the red and white robe he wore, giving his face a healthy
glow. Fraser held no hymnal in his hands, singing the song from memory,
his eyes fixed on the Wise Men giving gifts to the newborn Christ child.
The Latin hymn was perfect for him, and although the cop had heard his
friend sing before, his voice had never sounded as rich nor as true.
Fraser seemed mesmerized, as if he was actually there, witnessing the
Blessed Miracle as it was happening, and his voice reflected his emotions
perfectly. A warm smile softened Ray's features.
At that moment, Fraser glanced down into the congregation, his
blue eyes meeting Ray's, and the corners of his mouth turned upward as he
continued to sing, beginning the song again in English, the entire choir
joining in. The emotional moment swept through the Church, and the
parishioners added their voice in song.


----

The rest of the Mass seemed to pass in a blur, and as the service
ended, Ray went in search of his friend. The members of the choir were
changing in a small room near the balcony area, and Ray waited patiently
for the Mountie to exit. As the door opened and people began leaving,
Ray could see many of them going up to Fraser and offering thanks.
Although he couldn't hear their words, he could tell by his friend's body
language that Fraser was a bit uncomfortable with their praise.
Ray straightened as Fraser made his way towards the door,
Diefenbaker following his master closely. "So this is what you've been
up to?"
They began walking towards the stairs. "Yes, Ray. Father Behan
came to the consulate earlier this week and asked if I'd be willing to
assist in tonight's service. It seems that several members of the tenor
section, for various reasons, were unable to participate this year, and
they were in desperate need male voices."
"Constable..."
The trio stopped at the doors of the Church and waited for Father
Behan to join them.
"I wanted to thank you again for your help," the Irish priest
said, offering his hand. "I don't think we've ever had a better Midnight
Mass."
Fraser returned the gesture. "It was no trouble at all, Father
Behan. I was happy to assist."
"A Merry Christmas to both of you, and your family, too,
Detective Vecchio."
"Same to you, Father."
"Merry Christmas, Father."
Francesca and Mrs. Vecchio were waiting for them outside the
Church. "You were absolutely wonderful, Fraser," Ray's mother said as
she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Brought tears to my eyes."
"Thank you, Mrs. Vecchio."
"Mine, too," Francesca added as she came up beside him.
Fraser glanced at Ray before replying, "Thank you kindly, Francesca."
Ray cleared his throat. "Where'd everyone else go?"
"Home," his mother replied. "The kids were falling asleep on
their feet, and they knew Santa wouldn't come until after they were in bed."
"You will join us for Christmas dinner, won't you?" Francesca asked.
"Ah. Well..."
"You're not working tomorrow, are you?" Mrs. Vecchio asked.
"No. Inspector Thatcher has given me the day off."
"Then I won't take no for an answer," the older woman stated.
"We've got plenty of food, and there's always room for one more."
Fraser smiled. "Well, in that case, I would be delighted to.
Thank you for inviting me."
"Good. We'll see you tomorrow, then." "I'm gonna give Fraser a
ride home. I'll meet you back at the house."
"Merry Christmas, Fraser," the Vecchio women said before heading
for their car.
Fraser, Ray and Diefenbaker began walking towards the Buick.

----

On the drive home they made small talk about recent cases and
police procedures. Ray parked the car in front of the dilapidated
apartment building, and the trio went upstairs.
Ray looked around Fraser's dark apartment, noticing the tiny
decorated tabletop tree by the window. Two presents lay beneath it.
"Nice tree."
Fraser glanced at the small tree, it's miniature lights blinking
on and off.
"You sure you didn't have any plans for the day?" Ray asked.
Fraser shook his head. "No, Ray. None at all."
Ray frowned. How could anyone want to spend Christmas alone in
a place like this... he thought to himself. He forced a smile. "Well,
I'd better warn you, if you thought your average every-day meal at my
house was crazy, you ain't seen nothin' yet. The holidays are sheer
madness."
Fraser met the detective's gaze. He'd seen the expression on
Ray's face as he saw the small tree, and he knew what his friend was
trying to do. The corner of his mouth turned upwards. "I'll consider
myself forewarned."
Ray matched the grin. Digging into his coat, he pulled out the
rectangular present from his vest pocket. "I'd better give this to you
now. Tomorrow we'll be lucky if we can fit in the same room together."
Fraser took the gift. "You didn't have to do this, Ray."
"It's Christmas, Benny. Just open it."
Fraser unwrapped the small gift. Inside was a leather bound book
with an ornately engraved spine. Fraser flipped through it to find its
pages blank.
"I figure since your father seemed to have a talent for writing,
I thought maybe you'd like to carry on the tradition."
The twinkling lights of the tree reflected in the Mountie's blue
eyes. "It's beautiful, Ray. Thank you."
Fraser went to the tree placed the book beneath it, then removed one
of presents, handing it to Ray. "This is for you."
Ray took the gift, ripping the paper off in a matter of seconds.
Inside the small box was a well-worn pocket watch, its cover bearing the
insignia of the RCMP. Ray carefully lifted the watch from the box,
opening the cover to find Robert Fraser's name and serial number engraved
on the inside. Ray's head snapped up, his green eyes wide.
Fraser met his gaze. "Turn it over."
Ray did so, and read aloud the more recent inscription engraved
on the back. "To my friend, who never failed me. B. Fraser --
Christmas, 1995."
"Merry Christmas, Ray."
After a few moments, Ray finally found his voice. "But this was
your father's, Benny. I can't accept this..."
"No, I want you to have it, Ray. I wanted to give you something
special, to thank you for the friendship you've shown Diefenbaker and me
since we've come here."
Ray smiled. "You already have, Fraser. Thank you."
The moment was broken by a whine. The two men looked down to
find Diefenbaker sitting by the tree, his brown eyes moving from Fraser
to the last gift beneath the tree, and back again.
"Oh, all right..."
He tossed the wrapped package to the wolf, who began tearing at
the paper with his paws. Diefenbaker picked up the brown leather collar
with red name tag attached in his powerful jaws and looked towards his
master.
"Well, do you like it?"
Diefenbaker came over to Fraser and dropped it on the Mountie's
feet, walking away.
Fraser sighed, shaking his head. "You pay, and you pay, and you
pay..."
Ray chuckled. "Listen, I'd better get going. Come over around
11 am to make sure you don't miss the kick-off. Even earlier if you
actually want a seat in front of the TV."
"Thanks, Ray," Fraser replied as he opened the door for his
friend. "Merry Christmas."
Ray smiled. "Merry Christmas to you too, Fraser."


The End

----------
Copyright December, 1995, by Angela Rivieccio. Not intended to infring
on any copyright holder of DUE SOUTH -- past, present, or future. Please
do not reproduce for anything other than personal enjoyment without
written permission by the author. Coments welcome at p003136b@pb.seflin.org.