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Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum

by on April 13, 2015

Last time, in the Catrina Chronicles, our heroine had just saved the first Christmas from being ruined by nuclear explosion. As she was in the area, she had decided to pop by the manger and say hello to the Christ Child. Little did she know….

“Oh, I am so sick of little did she know,” Catrina said. “Nothing pleasant ever comes of that phrase.” She waited a moment, in the muddy streets of Bethlehem, to see if something unfortunate were about to happen. She heard sheep bleating in the distance, and a click of armor as Roman soldiers moved about further down the way, but nothing untoward seemed to be going on. Catrina decided that she might as well go about her business. She paused. It now occurred to her that she didn’t know exactly where in Bethlehem the manger was. The town was a bit crowded that night, with everyone in for the census and all. The baby could be anywhere. 

Then she saw a drummer boy walking past. “You there!” Catrina called. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Baby Jesus is, would you?”

The lad said something to her in Aramaic. Sadly, Catrina only knew English; her consort had the language talent in the family. Fortunately, she was still holding Mlrning (the Shovel of Thor!) and one of the Norse shovel’s incredible powers was that it lent linguistic understanding to its holder. The Norse gods found translation useful whenever they had to visit worlds that, say, only spoke Old Frost Giant, or Early Quenya. She understood him with only a few seconds’ delay. The boy had said, “Yes, I know where the newborn king is, and I’m going to see him now.”

“Splendid!” said Catrina. “Lead on, MacDuff!”

“I beg your pardon?” said the little drummer boy. “Who is this MacDuff of which you speak?”

“Oh, never mind,” Catrina said. “Let’s just find the Christ Child, shall we?”

The little drummer boy hesitated. “I am not certain that I should, after all. I have no gift to bring, that’s fit to-”

Catrina smiled. “Sure you do. You have your drum, right? Do a concert for him. Kids love concerts. I’ve got two myself, they’re nearly three, and they quite enjoy banging round on drums and pots and the cat and whatnot. I had to stop them from upsetting the cat, but otherwise, they’re quite musical!”

“Ah….” said the little drummer boy. “I do not believe I should-”

He had, distracted by Catrina, kept walking. Now they had just turned a corner, and there before them opened a cave in the hillside. Inside the cave was a manger, with a crowd of shepherds standing in awe about it. “Oh, this is wonderful” Catrina said, brimming with excitement. “It’s just as I imagined it!”

The little drummer boy gasped in fright, plainly overawed by all the shepherds and the animals, not to mention Mary and Joseph and the Baby Jesus. “I, I really do not think-”

“Don’t think! Go! Play! Good luck!” Catrina said, and pushed the little drummer boy forward. He skidded into an open space. Everyone looked at him expectantly. He gulped, gathered himself, and began rattling out a tune on his drum. Catrina, who had safely retreated back into the shadow of a nearby building, thought the impromptu concert went over very well.

“I suppose,” she mused to herself, “they’ll make a song about this eventually.” She stood there a long while, contemplating the historic scene. She had never seen the very first Christmas before, and she didn’t know when she might get the chance again. She waited until the shepherds and the little drummer boy finally left the manger, and Joseph and Mary had gone off to bed with the baby, now that the crowds had gone. Catrina slipped away too, but as she went off into the darkness of Bethlehem, she glanced back at the manger. For one moment, she caught the eye of the child. He smiled at her, and made a small wave. Catrina smiled back, thinking happy thoughts about the true meaning of Christmas.

No perfect moment lasts forever. Just as she was wondering whether she ought to wait around till the morning and see if Mary might require her help, the scene vanished before her eyes in a blur of teleporter energies. “Oh, bother,” Catrina exclaimed as Bethlehem disappeared. “I thought I’d made it clear how very much I dislike being teleported.”

Where has our heroine been teleported to? Be sure and come back next week to find out, as the Catrina Chronicles continue! 


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  1. Teleported again? Yes, I’m curious what adventure is in store. Oh, and thank you very much… I have the Drummer Boy song stuck in my head now!

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