Decorations in Blue

Posted on Thu 12th Dec, 2019 @ 2:08am by

674 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Resolution
Location: Riko's Quarters
Timeline: MD -3, 2030

It was seldom that Riko entertained, so it was no surprise to find her alone in her quarters. She knelt pensively in front of the Altar to Elvis, a fat blue candle burning with a mild scent that brought snowy mountain tops and moonlit nights to mind. Softly in the background, the computer played the familiar strains of the Elvis hymn of separation.

I'll have a blue Christmas without you
I'll be so blue just thinking about you
Decorations of red on our green Christmas tree
Won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me

And when those blue snowflakes start fallin'
That's when those blue memories start callin'
You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white
But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas

You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white
But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas.

Growing up in Broken Drive, Riko had never experienced actual snow in a natural environment. Of course, she'd experienced it in a holographic one, but she'd been told by those who should know, that it wasn't the same. There were records of her early McCord ancestors that talked about many things she didn't have personal experience knowing - heather, Fingal's Caves, northern lights, Loch Ness ... snow caps on Ben Nevis. She did know that snow was white, not blue. It was all in the McCord's journal of leave taking.

Blue was the color of being alone, however, as the hymn made clear. So each year that Riko worshiped alone during the days of Elvis Christmas, her home was lit with blue lighting, blue candles burned, and the small tree in the corner was decorated with blue glass balls, blue tinsel and tiny blue lights.

Listening to the music, staring at the candle flame, which was not blue, reminded her that her family would have a tree decorated in red ... red, the color of home and hearth and togetherness. She could almost smell the traditional peanut butter cookies that were at every holiday feast. Riko closed her eyes and pictured her parents table - a red table cloth was a must. The largest white platter would be filled with a huge ham, baked to perfection, and next to it, an almost equally large one would be stacked with perfect golden fried chicken.

It made McCord's mouth water to think of that table, black-eyed peas, tomato fritters - all the things that had been handed down from the beginning, and mixed with traditional Scottish fare like haggis and neeps and tatties. The dessert sideboard would be loaded with a mix, too. Banana pudding and Sweet Potato Pie from Elvis and sticky toffee and tablet of all kinds from Scotland. This was one holiday that held no Japanese influence. It was pure McCord and Presley all the way ... and it was like that in every home, but Riko wasn't sure why.

She knew she could replicate all of those recipes right here, right now. But like the snow, it wouldn't be the same. Besides, what would the Council of the Presleytery think of a daughter who replicated the sacred foods? She could hear Uncle Hamish Fujita's harumph of disgust now, and it almost made her smile. He took his position as uncle as seriously as his membership in the Presleytery.

She recalled a chorus of another Elvis hymn about this Christmas holiday.

Give thanks for all you've been blessed with,
And hold your loved ones tight,
For you know the Lord's been good to you
On a snowy Christmas night.

A sad longing for home, and a feeling of empty loneliness filled her for a moment. Why was she still here? Riko sighed and blinked away the threatening tears. She needed to take the inspiration from the hymn and know that he'd blessed her with many things. She folded her hands and relaxed into a lotus. If Elvis could handle the blues of this season, she could do it, too.

 

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