Thanksgiving 2023

“Where have ye been?” Lukas asks me, looking up from his book. Even though I’m not working on the Clouds Aflame series anymore, Lukas and I are still good friends, and we see each other quite often.

“I was celebrating a holiday with my family,” I say.

“St. Columban’s Day?” asks Alynn. She’s paying less attention to me, too busy nalbinding a pair of socks to prepare for the coming winter. Despite her being nineteen in the last book she appeared in, I usually see her as her thirteen-year-old self from the first book, and this encounter is no exception.

“Thanksgiving. Y’all haven’t heard of it,” I say. “It wasn’t established formally until the 1800s, but it goes back to the 1600s, which is still way before your time.”

“Hmm.” Lukas will never pass up an opportunity to learn something. “I assume this is an opportunity for giving thanks? Are there church services involved?”

“No. Families get together and eat a huge meal–turkey and pies and mashed potatoes–and you guys don’t even know what potatoes are, and I’m not sure if y’all had turkeys–”

“That’s alright,” says Lukas. “It sounds like a lovely time. Alynn, we ought to have some sort of Thanksgiving.”

Alynn makes a small “hmph” of half-hearted acknowledgement.

Lukas shuts his book and looks at her a bit more intensely. “Wouldn’t ye enjoy having a feast, Alynn? Invite everyone up–Drostan, Leif, Sigmund–”

“There’s no point to feasts,” says Alynn. “‘Tis heaps of cookin’ I have to do beforehand, and mountains of dishes afterwards, and in the meantime you just smile and make small talk and make sure everyone else is havin’ a grand time. I’d rather not, if ’tis all the same to you, Lukas.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask. My imagination flits back to all the Christmas feasts I’ve subjected Alynn to in her backstory. She would be ten, eleven, twelve years old, being overlooked at a strange church where she knew no one and no one knew her. Between watching Tarin and helping the older women with serving the feast, she would never have much time to actually enjoy herself. And yet, I know that there is something more behind Alynn’s dislike for feasts. So I ask her, “What are you thankful for?”

Alynn snorts. “A grand lot I’ve got to be thankful for! I’m stuck on a strange island, the Norse are everywhere, I’ve lost my father, I’ve lost Tarin–”

“Well, I’m grateful ye’re here,” says Lukas. “I’m grateful that I managed to get ye out of the ocean afore ye froze to death. I’m grateful that God protected us from the Norse and got us back to the monastery safely. I’m grateful that ye’ve been such a kindness and a help to me here.” Lukas’s gaze rests on Alynn, full of warmth, and Alynn softens under it. “I’m also grateful that our author believes in happy endings. I know ye aren’t where ye want to be in life, my dear, but–it’s better than it could be, and it will get better eventually.”

A faint smile comes onto Alynn’s face. “I suppose I’m thankful that I got rescued by such a kind man as you are, Lukas, and that the Vikings didn’t take me.”

“There ye go,” says Lukas.

“I don’t have to sleep on the floor anymore,” says Alynn. “And the roof doesn’t leak here, and the fire’s always warm.”

“And God is always good,” says Lukas. “He’s always watching out fer us, protecting us, and providing fer us. The Holy Spirit is always there to guide us and encourage us when we need it. We’re always forgiven of all our sins.”

I smile. “You’re right, Lukas. Listen. I have to go now–”

“Tell us what ye’re thankful fer first,” says Lukas.

“Well–I’m very thankful for Roscoe, my cat. I’m thankful that I’ve got a good place to live with cheap rent, and my car works, and my job–it’s a hard job, but the kids are pretty good, and my co-workers and all of my bosses are great people. I’ve got a family who loves me, and I don’t have many friends, but I’ve got all of you guys.” If I wanted to, I could fill the room with my characters. But I decide not to. “I’ll see y’all later. I have to go eat lunch now.”

“Feast leftovers?” Alynn asks.

“Maybe. My parents kept most of the food. I didn’t even bring any pie home.”

Lukas’s eyes light up at the mention of pie. “Alynn, do ye know how to make pie? I think we’ve got some dried apples–”

I smile as I will Alynn and Lukas back into my imagination–or rather, as I will myself back into the real world. I don’t like it here as much as I like my own worlds, but this is the world God made me for. Now. Do I eat Thanksgiving leftovers, or do I make myself a sandwich? My bread is stale…maybe French toast….