A
series of Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons vignettes for Christmas 2003
by Tiger Jackson
Captain Scarlet and Rhapsody Angel were
busy putting up decorations in the Officers’ Lounge.
“I don’t mind finishing the decorating
work; the others did a good job with this tree. But I thought there were going
to be a few more people here helping right now,” said Rhapsody.
Scarlet chuckled as he unfolded a ladder
and picked up some greenery. “I think the others skived off as a sort of
Christmas gift.”
“Leaving us all alone is some sort of
gift? Oh!” Rhapsody gasped, realising what she’d said.
Her lover grinned at her. “Exactly. But
without any chance of being caught in a compromising situation.” She made a
face at him. Suddenly, he dropped the sprig of greenery he was holding and
clapped his hands to his head.
“Paul, what’s wrong?” Rhapsody asked,
concern in her voice.
“My ears are burning.” Captain Scarlet
lowered his hands. “It’s nothing.” He retrieved the sprig and climbed up the
ladder.
“My great-uncle has invited us to join
him at his house in Axethorpe for Twelfth Night,” said Rhapsody as she
stretched to hang a silver snowflake on a high branch of the Christmas tree.
“Twelfth Night?”
“The twelfth day of Christmas.”
“You mean a party with lords a-leaping,
maids milking, all kinds of birds underfoot while ladies are dancing, and a
partridge in a pear tree? Sounds like fun.”
Rhapsody reached up and swatted him
playfully. “No, not at all! My uncle keeps to the medieval traditions. Or at
least he did when I was last attended a Twelfth Night feast.”
Scarlet thought she sounded wistful.
“Has it been a long time?”
Rhapsody nodded. “When I was still a child.
Almost 20 years ago, I guess.” Her eyes sparkled and her face lit up with
remembered joy. “It was wonderful! The cook made two Twelfth Night cakes, one
for the men and another for the women. The men’s cake had a bean in it, and
whoever found it in his slice became the Lord of Misrule for the evening. There
was a dried pea in the women’s cake; the finder became Queen of the Pea and the
Lord’s consort.”
“I imagine you were the Queen?” Scarlet
asked as he climbed back down the ladder.
“And my great-uncle was the Lord of
Misrule.” Rhapsody grinned broadly, a smile that was reflected myriad times in
the glass balls on the tree. “We sat at the head table together and gave
orders. The napkins were all folded like hats, I thought, so I ordered everyone
to wear them on their heads. Uncle called for dinner to be served backwards. We
began with dessert and ended with appetizers. The jesters sang silly songs,
made atrocious puns, and juggled assorted plates, cups, candles, anything they
could reach.” Rhapsody grinned mischievously. “And after dinner we danced,
drank wassail, and played snapdragon.”
“Snapdragon? I’ve never heard of it. How
is it played?” asked Scarlet, genuinely curious.
“It takes daring. You have to snatch
raisins out of a bowl of burning brandy. The flames weren’t really very hot but
only the bravest even tried.” Rhapsody giggled. “I made myself sick eating
raisins!”
Scarlet laughed. “Sounds like it was a
perfect evening.”
“I thought the best part was when the
Green Man came. He was covered in ivy when he arrived and Uncle ordered us to
strip the ivy away. Underneath was all holly.”
Captain Scarlet smiled. “We’ve never had
a Green Man for our family Christmas celebrations, but we always have holly and
ivy. My mother festoons the whole house with them! Anything that isn’t moving
gets draped in garlands or smothered in wreaths. Comes of being in a military
family except instead of painting things, my Mum decorates them.”
It was Rhapsody’s turn to laugh. “She
must have bought up every bit of greenery available in all of Winchester! Or
was it Hampshire?”
“Neither. It was all gathered on our own
estate. My father hired helpers, but it was also a family outing to gather the
holly and ivy. Mum made it a sort of winter trekking party. We’d take a sort of
cold-weather picnic along: flasks of hot beverages and soup, meat pies and such
that could be heated in a tiny, portable, battery operated oven. And we had a
wheeled sledge to haul the cuttings back to the house; we’d bring a sled if it
had snowed. Mum would never let us cut away everything in one area; she
insisted on leaving some to grow and propagate for the future. So we’d spend a
lot of time walking through the woods, breathing the cold air, listening to the
winter birds and the silence. The last time for me was just before I went to
West Point.” He picked up an ornament and started working on the tree. “I
remember that time more clearly than any other. I was sitting on a fallen tree
and my parents sat on another while we ate our food. I caught a motion out of
the corner of my eyes, something small and red. It was a fox and it looked
hungry. It had snowed a lot that year, and the fox’s normal prey probably
hadn’t left their burrows for weeks. I watched it creep up carefully, keeping
low to the ground, ready to run if a human gave any sign of noticing it. Mum
had dropped a bit of her sandwich a foot or so away from her. The fox crept up,
seized the tidbit, then broke into a run and disappeared into the trees. Dad
commented that she’d dropped the sandwich on purpose. And, of course she had;
she told him she’d noticed the fox tracking them long before and seen how thin
it was. Dad laughed and put his arm around her as he set aside the remains of
his own food for the fox to retrieve later. I was happy, seeing how much my
parents love each other. I hoped I’d find that kind of love someday for
myself.”
Rhapsody felt a warm glow fill her as
her eyes met Scarlet’s. They both smiled.
“We’d pull the ivy off the walls of the
house after we came out of the woods. Dad joked that it was the only thing
holding up some of the walls but he’d climb higher on the ladder than anybody
else to make sure he’d get the longest trails of ivy. Holly was my specialty.
I’d look for the bushes with the reddest berries, then wade in to cut off the
bunches. I always end up with scratches all over my arms and hands and face
from trying to get the biggest, greenest bunches of holly.” He looked at his
hands and sighed. “I’ll never be able to do that again. How would I explain why
I heal so fast?”
Rhapsody laid a hand on his arm. “We’ll
find a way. Maybe you could wear gloves and a balaclava.”
Scarlet nodded, then changed the
subject. “Twelfth Night does sound like fun. But we may not be able to go.”
“I know. I’ve hinted to Uncle that we
may not be able to attend because of work-related commitments.” Rhapsody placed
the last strand of tinsel on the tree. “There! Finished.”
“Not quite. We still have to make sure
everything works as it should.”
“Oh, of course. You’re right.” Rhapsody
flicked a switch. The fairy lights came on and shortly began to twinkle. She
nodded with satisfaction. “Everything’s working fine.”
“There’s still one thing left to test,”
replied Scarlet. He beckoned to her.
Puzzled, Rhapsody walked up to him. With
a smile, Scarlet pointed upward. A sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling.
She giggled as Scarlet wrapped his arms around her.
“Happy Christmas, love.”
Story
Notes:
The
Green Man is a kind of nature spirit or god, easily more than 2,000 years old
in Britain.
Snapdragon
is actually a Victorian parlor game, not Medieval. But it is challenging to
play. Learn how at http://www.schooloftheseasons.com/snapdragon.html.
Twelfth
Night Cake (North American measures)
1 1/3
cups hazelnuts
3
tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup
granulated sugar
1 egg
yolk1 tablespoon finely shredded orange peel
2
tablespoons Grand Marnier
1 (17 1/4
ounce) package frozen puff pastry dough, thawed1 dried bean
1 egg,
beaten
1
tablespoon confectioners’’ sugar
Toast
hazelnuts on a baking sheet at 350 degrees F for 10 minutes. When nuts are cool,
rub them in a tea towel to remove skin. Finely grind nuts in a food processor.
Set aside.
To make
filling, beat butter and sugar with an electric mixer on medium to high speed,
until light and fluffy. Add egg yolk and beat until well blended. Gradually add
nuts to butter-egg mixture with mixer on low to medium speed. Stir in orange
peel and Grand Marnier. Set aside.
On a
slightly floured surface, roll out one sheet of pastry slightly to remove
creases. Trim to a circle about 8 inches in diameter, and place on a greased
baking sheet. Heap filling over pastry in a dome shape, leaving a 1-inch
border. Hide dried bean in filling. Roll out another sheet of pastry as above
and trim to a 10-inch circle. Brush edge of bottom pastry with beaten egg;
cover with second circle of dough and tuck edges under. Press to seal tightly;
decoratively crimp edges. For a glossy crust, brush top with beaten egg. Chill
cake in refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.
With a
small sharp knife, score cake in cuts radiating from top and center to within 1
inch of edge. Brush again with beaten egg. Bake about 30 minutes at 375 degrees
F or until golden brown. Cool on a wire rack. Dust with confectioners' sugar.
Serves
8.
Wassail
Bowl (North American measures)
Makes 25 servings
Ingredients
12 small red apples
6 whole
cloves
6
allspice berries
half
teaspoon ground cardamom
2
cinnamon sticks
1 inch
peeled fresh ginger
2 litres
of ale1 bottle (750ml) dry sherry
Honey or
sugar to taste – optional
Bake
apples whole (180C, 350F, Gas 5) for 20 minutes until tender but still holding
their shape.
In a large saucepan, combine spices and 1 litre of the ale. Bring to a bubbling
heat and them simmer slowly for 10 minutes Strain if you wish. Stir in
remaining ale and sherry, sweeten to taste and bring to the simmer.
Serve in a punch bowl with the apples floating on top - you can add optional
slices of lemon and orange.
For an
extra mediaeval touch: Beat 6 eggs in a 4-quart punchbowl until
thick and lemon-coloured. Gradually beat in the hot ale and float the apples on
top.
OTHER
STORIES BY TIGER JACKSON
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