The Hotel Elevator clanging, clattering shut behind Him. Joe turned, grinning,
watching it go. Nostalgia and sentiment may decree otherwise, yet He knew,
that much of the Old City really should be replaced. Renovated at least.
Stopping in front of a Door that matched His Call-out. Hopefully,..
His last for the Night.
A quick check of His Military styled Watch confirmed the timing. Knocking
3 Times quite hard, then almost shouting “...Your Taxi’s Here… “.
Hearing the affirmation He turned, heading back, noticing ahead in the Corridor
several Figures just emerging from the Room, next along the way.
“…Can you take this Bag please.?. ”
The voice of previous affirmation, female.
Matter of factly, though tinged with perhaps suppressed emotion.
Turning, stepping back and taking hold of a plain, sturdy Case.
“…No probs, i got it... ”
Looking directly at the Voice Owner then and smiling as He saw.
Her rather obvious state. She smiled back, a little hesitant.
Like Her walk.
Joe slowed His regular pace to match, as They approached the Elevator where
already stood, the small group seen earlier. 3 Men it seemed. Heading down.
The Elevator arrived, seemingly louder than before.
Whines, squeals and groans.
An Old City in deed, Joe mused again.
As the Doors opened the 3 Men stepped back,
almost lining up behind them.
Joe smiled, knowing too their innate respect, with understanding.
Joe and Passenger entered first. The 3 trailing behind, then moving
into the opposite corner.
Once in and settled, Joe poked the Ground Floor icon.
Doors slid shut, noisily steeled.
With a hiccup and jolt they began to move. Down.
As they passed the next floor a whine and thump from below was heard.
A twang from above resounded, just after.
The Elevator stopped. Swaying a bit, then settling. Still.
Joe bit his lip as He started to press a few buttons on the console.
No lights, no reactions, no Power it seemed.
Joe’s Mind reeled. No, this cannot be. Not Here. Not Now.?.
He looked around, as frantic as the intruding thoughts.
The 3 Men, Elders, simply smiled. Earnestly. Vacantly. Back.
Turning to the where that Voice so arose. She was nodding.
“… It’s Time... Now…”
Breathing faster, shallow. Insistent.
She blushed a little, almost skipping, stuttering over the Words.
She knew well their effect.
“… It’s Time…”
All Eyes were upon Her.
4 Sets. Male.
All synced and focused on that peculiar stillness that had so been
brought to a head with just those Two Words.
Joe automatically rolled up His sleeves locking Eyes with His Passenger.
“…You Sure.?.” though He already knew. Her breathing and stance.
She nodded not trusting Herself to speak.
“… Mary,.. Hi… Joe…” She so replied. In ‘tween the Breaths.
” Hello Mary… O.k. You’re… no… We,..
…are in Luck… Not only am i Your Driver…” As He chatted, with deft and sure
movements He settled Her into The Position. The 3 Men too busied themselves.
One went to the Elevator Phone console putting on His glasses as he looked
at the Instructions. The Other Two removed Jackets, smoothly, efficiently
folding both into a Log Pillow, for Mary’s Back as support.
“… I drive a Taxi now… I was in the Army not so long ago.
A Medic. I know the Procedure… though I have only assisted…
Thus far…” smiling confidently. He hoped.
Mary, slightly bent over, looked up. Still
and so breathless.
“... That’s O.K. Joe… Am a Single New Mum-to-be…
My First as well…” then adding,..
…thus far…” whilst taking His hand, She squeezed trust through Her fingers
whilst Her Body fretted in pain.
Joe squeezed back…” O.K. Mary… Let’s do this.
again smiling, now easily and honestly. She had Spirit this One. Humor too.
His Training came back. Ordered. Controlled.
He turned to the Men, surprisingly calm and ordered themselves.
Simply waiting it seemed.
“…Ok Guys empty Your pockets…
…Let’s see what We can use…”
As They reached in and around for their contents Joe opened the Case,
laying the Lid flat to also use as a Board for His Equip.
“… Why did You join the Army Joe.?.” Mary asked, trying to distract Herself
from the pulses Her Body was letting out. Like waves She thought.
“…oh… well… i was given a Suggestion,..
told to see the World… by a Judge…
...He disagreed with the Way i worked with Wood… I…
…i was one…
…of the early Tree-huggers and that got me into some strife,..
…so to get out of that... i went in. The Army instead…”
“… Did it keep You out of strife.?. She thoughtfully posed.
in Time…” Joe replied with that cheeky grin.
They both laughed at each others discomfort and their own.
Joe took and arranged several Items.
Water, Scissors, Gel Soap, Mouth-wash, small Cloths,
He didn’t need much if all went well.
‘Twas Nature and Mary did the main and hard work.
He read out the Labels, accentuating and highlighting the Names.
Mary laughingly insisted too. On a taste of that
Mount Myrrha Mouthwash…
“… Sounds Yum…
To refresh Myself,..
…at least a part anyway… o.k.”
“…onto the next...”
A smile and determined grin combined. Residue
spat, cleaned, wiped, mopped up.
Joe shrugged, taking a swig and rinse as well.
First and Second Cloths, corner tossed.
Fresh breath. Breath fresh.
Well as then,
cleaning His hands with Soap and Water, a Flower Essence
so filled the Air. Lavish bouquets of Sweet and Spice. Exotic.
Frankincense it seemed.
Antiseptic as well.
Third Cloth tossed.
The scented smell soothing, though filling the Senses as well.
Placing it back and next to, The Scissors, small, golden
and sharp. Fancy,.. rather ornate… perhaps a Gift,
though well kept, with little signs of Age. Sitting still.
Awaiting the Turn.
As He and the Men sorted and refilled Pockets
of the unneeded. Mary’s breathing changed. Joe, sensitive and practiced,
adjusted Her Position. Slightly, to suit.
Her Breathing was louder, the pains more insistent.
Persistent as well.
Slightly unnerving as Joe could do little to Help
take that edge off. Wiping His own brow
as He felt movement next to Him.
“…We will do what ever You need Us to Joe...”
said the Man closest. Clasping
His shoulder for emphasis.
Joe looked Him square in the Eyes, seeing humble
and open honesty dwelling there.
“…I’m Mel Auricson,..” automatically reaching for a Business Card. Handing
One to Mary, then Joe.
Not to be outdone both the One next and the Phone Caller did same.
‘…Casper Frankson...” “… Belmont Mirson…”
As Mary went to grab Hers, the pain wave struck. Gasping and clutching at the pain
Her Hands withdrew. Reaching over, Joe took the Cards, nodding to Them
all. Looking down hurriedly, He noted the Logo…
M.A.G.I. Mel Auricsons Great Importiums...
...embossed as well, noted too. Placing them, His and Mary’s in His top-pocket. He
turned back to where what mattered most. Mary had paled some. He quickly
gave Her some Water from the Case, noting in the background,..
Mr Mirson seemed to be online with the Hotel Supervisor.
“…ok Folks…” He spoke up, Phone held loose.
His dark features crinkled though with smiles in His eyes,
as He overdramatised, like a solemn Reporter’s Evening spiel.
“…The Super’s got the Crew on it. If it’s the usual problem,…
…We’ll be ALL out safe and soon. If not.?.”
He shrugged in the Way of those Destinies, Fates. Letting it hang.
“…The Ambulance is also on the Way…”
He continued on, then pointing at Joe...
“… They’ll call You here when they arrive.?.”
Then looking to Joe for confirmation. Joe in turn,
nodded to Mary, holding Her gaze. Simply stated in reply:
“… It’s Time…
…They’re gonna miss out…”
They All laughed then.
Then got down to work.
Picking out and checking over His Tools a breathe of relief
He now gave. He was Ready. They All were.
That too which moved within Mary. Was ready as well.
The act proceeding along naturally. Joe watching close, encouraging
where needed, supporting when can. The Men kept busy
with the minor chores.
Sweating freely, Mary now, quite loud with some choice
winces, groans and gasps,..
at those sudden moments of tearing despair.
Mary’s face deep reddened as Times slowly ticked on. Sweat and Tears
mingled so. Grabbing the cool Water, Joe let some trickle behind Her
Neck. She smiled in ‘tween gasps and exhaled more evenly. Settled
“...More Please… That Helps…”
came out at last. Joe complied, glad She felt some blessed Relief.
He had seen.
Her Hands constantly wringing, turning those pains away.
As New Life so then emerged, Joe tapped His Watch without looking,
to record that Event. Hands then quickly back and under, He watched in
awe. The Miracles of Nature simply unfold.
Secure in His Hands this small and squirming bundle stretched
as if waking. A Hand came up,
then down in a movement and motion Joe thought was rather Zen. To
then rest on His Thumb, in a steady and sure grip. Content. At ease.
They All... gathered around.
Tying and Cord-cutting, with Scissors glimmering ‘tween His Hands,
sharply, smoothly. He
then wiped clean that bright and brand new Face.
Wrapping up in a small Towel that was colored as bright as Our Sun. A
golden Child, Joe thought as He passed Him to where He now, so
In those Arms of His Mother. Mary. Just there.
“... Congratulations… A Son…” Joe intoned solemnly.
Small cheers, acknowledgements, chorused by All.
That rose a lil’ louder as They began to so move again.
A lil’ later.
On the gurney, through and out the Front Entrance,
Mary motioned Him close.
“… Thank-you Joe. For Everything…”
She smiled, that Glow All around.
Joe had to check His own breathing. Then.
“… Well Mary,.. I’m not going to say it was All a pleasure,
It was a grand way to spend the night… no joshing there…”
…letting heartfelt Truth add depth of feeling to His Words.
…THAT’S IT… JOSH…
Mary almost blew the words from within. Breathless. Timeless.
“…Joshua will be His Name…”
She leaned back as the Ambo’s readied Her for Transport. Then leant
forward quick, to converse with One.
After a short exchange She searched out to catch His eye.
“… The Bethlem Royal...” She mouthed His way.
He gave Her the A-ok sign.
She leant back again. Stayed there, as Others now did Their part.
Joshua settled in.
Joe waved just before the closing of doors. Mary too.
He stayed, still,
watching till They were finally lost in the Night’s dark.
Strolling back to His Cab, Joe tapped the Display on His watch
bringing up the Time of Birth that He had clicked on earlier.
The Watch flickered, finding the Time then displaying.
1212,.. Born on the 25th... of the… 12th Month.?.
Wasn’t that their Room number.?. Too.?.
Those 3 Men.?.
He clutched at His shirt pocket,
feeling and grasping the Cards therein.
Mel Auricson, Casper Frankson, Belmont Mirson.
Those… MAGI Men...
He’d give them a Call soon. To say Hi.
Perhaps pick up a Gift for Josh and Mary.
He put the Cards back in. Tapped the pocket.
With just two words, 5,.. no, 6... Lives did so meet.
6 Lives. One Night.
Looking down at His Hands, Joe smiled.
Remembering what just before had been there. So Full of Life.
The Cards decided it for Him.
At least now He had a great excuse to visit Josh…
At the Bethlem Royal.
He was starting to so like Mary.
As for Josh,.. Josh, was a given.
A Gift of Life.
Joe walked on.
The above is My... i, Shiro’s Attempt at a Christmas Tale of Fiction.
Using the Legendary and Timeless Themes of Birth, New Life.
Those Holy Days.
Joshua : The Newborn. Gifted with Life. Simply Cute and So. On.
Mary : The Mother. A Gift-Giver. Cute, so sayeth One Joe.
Joe : Joseph, Wood-Worker, Coach-Man, Life-Coach. OK Joe archetype.
The 3 Men : The 3 Wise Men: THE MAGI.
Mel Auricson : MELCHIOR, the Gold-Gifter.
Casper Franks : CASPAR, the Frankincense.
Belmont Mirson : BALTHASAR, the Myrrh.
All… Persian, Olden. Of Yore. Wiseass as Serpents
it seems in deed. Also. (...Indeed and as well...
…Btw’s… AURIC… That is. Is so and that:
An Olden Term for Gold...) Thereof. Herein.
A Christmas Tale.
That carries no stinger...
just some zing.
Our World Legends.
Wherever, Whenever, Whatever
You so Find... Your Self.
Next… So be in Our World. Legends
From Authors, Editors, Writers, Poets, Readers.
A Seek and Search. Top Tips, Helping Hints.
The Writing Arts. So Thus Writ. Nomened as:
When You Call Me Names Love. Writing. The Ultimate Guide.
Please Feel Free and If So Inclined To Contact/Comment:..
i, Shiro that is.
With Any Thoughts, Hints, Tips and Dreams.
If A Particular Legendary Theme or Our World Legends. Is A Desire.
To Be So Writ. Herein.