Work Text:
for sam
Tell Me the Story of Christmas
19 December 1999
"Eddy? Why aren't you asleep yet?"
"It's snowing," Eddy replies, pointing out the window.
"Yes I know, but why aren't you sleeping? I'll tell Ma ma."
"Jie jie no," Eddy protests, climbing off the window ledge. "Don't tell Ma ma."
"Don't tell Ma ma what?"
Both Eddy's and Belle's heads turn to the doorway, where their wizened old Nai nai stands, squinting at them in the darkness.
Eddy takes all of three seconds to get his side of his story out before Belle can say anything. "Jie jie is bullying me—" ("I am not —") —"she keeps telling Ma ma about things I didn't do even though Ma ma says she's not allowed to bully me just because she's older than me but she does it anyway she's annoying I hate her I want her to go away." Eddy sucks in a deep breath.
His older sister glares daggers at him and Eddy shoots back a smug grin. He knows he's always been Nai nai's favourite, even if she's never said it out loud. He's cuter than Belle jie jie, he's less annoying than Belle jie jie , he's cleverer than Belle jie jie, he's—
"Belle is this true?"
Wait. Eddy stops in his tracks. Ma ma never questions his stories, and Ma ma likes Belle jie jie more. He looks confusedly at Nai nai, wondering when he became transparent.
"Nai nai I didn't bully Di di, I was just telling him to go to bed."
"Eddy." Nai nai's voice is sharp and Eddy is a little scared. Maybe he shouldn't have said he hated Belle jie jie. Belle jie jie is nice to him, sometimes, when she's not telling him what to do. "Is your jie jie telling the truth?"
Nai nai's coal black eyes burn into his, and his conscience nudges him gently. He's not used to this betrayal, and tears of injustice prickle at his eyes.
"Yes, Nai nai."
"Then do you think you should say sorry to Belle jie jie for not telling the truth about her?"
"Sorry Jie jie," Eddy whispers, and the floodgates open. He was mean to Jie jie, he realises. He bullied Jie jie and made her sad.
Then he feels arms wrapping around him, but they're not Nai nai's bony, papery arms. They're soft and warm and inviting, and Eddy looks up, a snotty, blubbering mess.
Belle smiles down at him, and gently wipes away his tears. He burrows his head into Belle's chest, surreptitiously wiping his snot and tears on her pyjamas. If Belle notices, she doesn't say anything.
Nai nai watches them fondly, and puts her arms around the both of them, picking them both up almost too easily. Nai nai has always been strong, even if she's gotten frailer over the years.
She sits back in her old rattan chair, propping the six-year-old and his sister on her lap. She rocks them both to sleep, but neither succumbs to the tiredness or Nai nai's soft hum.
"Nai nai?"
"Hmm?"
"What's Christmas?" Eddy yawns.
"Christmas is Santa Claus day," Belle replies, full of the typical eleven-year-old older sister righteousness.
"No, Belle." The siblings turn to her. "Christmas is Jesus' birthday."
This immediately sparks further questions.
"Who's Jesus?"
"His birthday ?"
" Nai nai are you sure?"
"Shh…" Nai nai whispers. Belle and Eddy fall silent quickly. Nai nai is going to tell a story.
It's past midnight, and Brett is exhausted. But he's stuck at church, watching the stupid Christmas pageant.
Stupid Di di, he thinks to himself. Why did he need to join the play?
It was bad enough he was forced to attend a service before this. He's tired already, but his younger brother is an angel in this play, the same play Brett refused to sign up for, and Ma ma insists that the whole family stays.
There's only one Joseph and Mary, but there are at least ten different angels, all dressed the same, and Brett cannot tell for the life of him which one is his brother.
Brett watches as the tiny Joseph marches up to the papier-mache inn, almost tripping on the hem of his costume that is much too big for him.
Small Joseph knocks on the flimsy door, and another small head peeks out, shaking his head. Small Joseph sighs and turns back to where Small Mary stands.
He's about to walk off (and trip on his costume again, Brett notices) when the much-too-young innkeeper beckons after him, gesturing him to the stable adjourned to the inn.
Brett follows his pointing finger, but gets distracted by the small string quartet playing in the background behind the stable. There are just two violinists, a violist and a cellist, but the music they make swells and fills the hollow of the entire church.
Small Mary and Joseph have made their way to the unstable-looking stable now, and Brett can't see the musicians anymore. He's short, for a seven-year-old, and it doesn't help that his eyesight isn't really all that good. He quietly slips off his snoozing father's lap, and sneaks his way around the pews where he finds a little niche for him to sit and watch the musicians play.
Brett is absolutely mesmerised by the confident way the first violinist pulls his bow across the strings, leading the rest of the quartet with only his eyes, body and music.
He doesn't see how Small Mary and Joseph make themselves comfortable around the fake plastic donkey and sheep, or as comfortable as they can get, anyway, lying in makeshift hay made out of recycled paper.
Brett listens to the musicians, completely absorbed by the soft lilting music, forgetting why he is there in the first place.
He ignores the celebration of Small Mary and Joseph's new son, tuning out the angelic, if not slightly dissonant, voices of the children's choir.
Brett remembers belatedly that his brother is an angel in that choir, and he quickly turns back to the stage, God forbid Ma ma finds out he missed Di di 's solo.
But even so, he gets distracted, yet again, but this time by the little child nestled in the handmade manger, bundled up in white cloth. It's an actual child, he realises, and scrambles to the front of the stage as quietly as he can without being seen.
Brett watches the rest of the play in awe, letting the music enhance the dreamy, floaty feel of the performance. He wonders if he's actually dreaming or the music is just that good.
He almost drifts off, but the set has changed and Di di is in the middle of it all, his soft but strong voice projecting towards the high ceiling of the church. He beckons to the supposedly terrified (Brett's not buying their performance) Small Shepherds, pointing to the star hanging above stable at the other end of the stage.
Gloria in excelsis deo
Gloria in excelsis deo
The rest of the choir joins in with the next verse, and Brett swells with pride.
That's my brother! He smiles to himself. My Di di is leading the choir.
Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly singing o'er the plains
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains
Belle is fast asleep now. She sighs softly on Nai nai 's lap, while Eddy bounces up and down, not tiring, asking for the next part of the story.
"So Jesus is born in a manger because there's no room at the inn? Then the angels sing to the shepherds asking them to go to him? Why? What happens next, Nai nai , what happens next?"
If Nai nai is worried by Eddy's hyperactivity at half an hour past midnight, she says nothing. "The shepherds follow the star to find Jesus."
"But why?" Eddy asks. "Weren't they scared?"
"Yes, they were scared, but they wanted to see Jesus more."
"What happened after they saw Jesus then?"
"They were really really happy."
"Why?" Eddy still doesn't understand.
"Because they believed Jesus was the saviour of the world."
Oh, star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to thy perfect light
The choir of angels fade into the background as three Small Wise Men step out of the darkness. Brett looks on curiously. They're each carrying a small chest, and they're decked with shiny fake jewellery, on top of their royal-looking costumes.
They walk towards the stable, eyes trained on the bright gold star above it.
We three kings of orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar
Field and fountain, moor and mountain
Following yonder star
Their voices are nowhere as bright and clear as Brett's di di , but then again, he could just be biased. He continues watching, enchanted, as the three Small Wise Men open each of their chests, to reveal:
"Gold."
"Frankincense."
"Myrrh."
"Gifts fit for a king."
Brett jumps, and nearly yelps, but his brother clamps a hand over his mouth before he can expose them both.
" Di di? What are you doing here?" Brett whispers in shock.
"It's not my scene, so I came down to find you."
It was at this point that Brett realised just how much his brother looked up to him. He sighs. "Does anyone know you're here?"
"No, so shhh." Di di replies. "How was my scene? What did you think of it?" He asks next, as an afterthought.
It was brilliant . "It was fine." Brett's stubborn, he won't admit that his younger brother is definitely more musically talented and intelligent than him.
"Just fine?"
"Shh Di di , I'm trying to pay attention to the play." Brett waves his brother off, watching the Small Shepherds and Three Wise Men kneel before the manger, bowing and presenting their gifts to the sleeping baby.
"What's there to pay attention to? It's the same story every year. Mary and Joseph can't find a place at the inn so they have the baby in a stable, and baby Jesus lies in a manger. Angels announce his birth to shepherds, they follow the star to find him. The three wise men come looking for the new king, they follow the star and find Jesus in a stable there. They present gold, frankincense and myrrh, and Mary and Joseph are stunned and wonder what this could mean."
Brett blinks slowly. "Did you just… spoil the play?"
His brother only shrugs in response. "It's history. It already happened. There's nothing to spoil."
Brett struggles to think of a reply.
"Hey I need to go," Di di says. "It's curtain call."
"Go! Quick!" Brett whisper-shouts. "You still need to change back into your costume!"
"Don't worry, Ge ge , I'll be fine," he says as he scurries off.
" Di di! " Brett calls before he can get too far. His little brother turns, eyebrows raised in question. "You did great up there."
The younger Yang smiles proudly. "I know."
"So that's why we celebrate Christmas?"
"Mhm."
"So Belle jie jie is wrong when she says it's Santa Claus day?"
Nai nai can't decide if she wants to laugh or sigh. " Yes, Eddy."
Eddy turns gleefully to his sister, shaking her awake. " Jie jie! See? You're wrong, Nai nai said so—"
Belle murmurs in her sleep as Nai nai hastily grabs Eddy away from her. "Don't wake your sister up. She's tired from her recital this morning. Let her sleep."
" Nai nai? "
"Yes Eddy?"
A fire burns bright in Eddy's eyes. "When I grow up, I want to be just like Belle jie jie. "
"Oh?"
"Yes. I want to play the violin in recitals, just like how Jie jie plays the piano."
Nai nai looks at Eddy then and sees a gentle glow of determination radiating out from him, and she chuckles. "You will."