California+Christmas

California Christmas By Naira Demirchian Marcy Rydell woke up on Friday morning feeling lousy. It was the day after school was let out for winter break, so you'd think she would be joyous and cheery. Maybe feeling tired because of all the Christmas shopping she had to do or the decorations she had to put up. But no. Marcy didn't feel joyous or cheery. Maybe a little tired, but not because she had been been decorating. She was tired because she had been packing.

Marcy rolled reluctantly out of bed and stomped into the hall bathroom. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her usual stick-straight golden-brown hair was frizzy and curled because of all the tossing and turning she had done last night. Her big, chocolate brown eyes were pink and puffy from lack of sleep. She yawned and stretched like a lazy cat before aggressively brushing her teeth.

Marcy replayed last week in her head. Her parents telling her about her dad's promotion in Los Angeles. Telling Marcy they were going to move away from rural, woodsy Pennsylvania to crowded California during winter break. Marcy spat out her toothpaste and scrubbed her face ferociously.

She hated having to move. You'd think it's because she would miss her friends. But Marcy didn't have many friends except a couple of girls from her youth group at church. No, Marcy wasn't mad about moving because she would miss her friends. She was mad because she wouldn't have a white Christmas.

Ever since Marcy was a baby, she'd grown up knowing Christamas meant snow. But it didn't snow in L.A. Marcy hated thinking that while the rest of her family and her friends at youth group were making snowmen and snowangels, she'd be slathering SPF 100 just so she could open a freaking window!

Marcy stomped back to her room which was nearly finished being packed. The movers just had to load her bed onto the truck and she had to put a couple of boxes in the family's only car. Marcy grabbed a pair of jeans and a thick lavender sweater from one box and put them on, rolling up her pajamas and stuffing them into the same box. Then she grabbed a hairbrush from the other, smaller box and ran it through her hair violently. It wouldn't straighten out, so she gave up trying to brush it and instead put it up in bun on top of her head.

She grabbed the two boxes and trudged down the stairs. She turned into the kitchen to see her short, brunette mother glide up to her with a buttered Eggo waffle and hot chocolate in a to-go mug. Her mother muttered something about breakfast and handed Marcy the waffle and mug before she guided the movers upstair. Just then, Marcy's father walked in through the front door, his face pink and flushed from the cold.

"Hey, honey! You ready to go?"

Marcy was ready with a snappy comeback, but she bit down on her tongue and just nodded.

"Good. Why don't you go and sit in the car. We're almost done."

Marcy just nodded again and went to sit in the family's only car: a minivan.

The minivan was quiet and warm on the inside. Marcy usually liked the quiet, being someone whose best friend was the library at Lincoln High, where Marcy went to school. But right now it made Marcy feel jumpy and uncomfortable. She chewded quickly, but thoughtfully, on her waffle. Marcy took the lid off the mug and drank her hot chocolate too quickly, burning her tongue, then her throat as it slid down to warm her stomach. But once she finished eating, she had nothing to do but think.

Marcy thought about how pathetic she seemed, even to herself. She didn't want to leave home because she would miss the snow? How much stupider can she sound? No, she wouldn't miss home because of friends or favorite memories. She would miss it because of the low temperatures causing frozen precipitaion to fall from the sky!

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">But nobody understood what snow meant to Marcy. It was calming and soothing to her. It made her think of family. Even though snow was cold, Marcy couldn't help but think of warmth when snow came to mind. Bundling herself up with blankets and a good book around the fireplace. And when her eyes hurt and the words in the book swam in front of her eyes, she could look outside the window and see the snow falling. And she would //know// it's winter. How is that ever going to happen if looking outside would let her see, not snow and ice, but sun and beach. Others would find this enjoyable, but Marcy always thought the sun was for the summer. Now, the sun would be part Marcy's //every// season.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">Marcy's father came and sat next to Marcy in the back seat.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"Hey, Marcy. What's wrong? You've been acting...distant."

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"Nothing."

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"Marcy, talk to me."

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"I-I'm gonna miss the snow."

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">Ugh, it sounded even more stupid out loud. Marcy's father laughed out loud, and Marcy could feel her cheeks turn scarlet red.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"Marcy, why didn't you just say so? This won't be the last time you see snow!"

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"It won't?" Marcy turned to him expectantly.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"No. If we can drive to California, we can certainly drive back to Pennsylvania!"

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">Marcy's face became even redder. She felt so dumb.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"Marcy, what's the real reason you don't want to go?"

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">Marcy hadn't thought about it, but now she knew that she would miss the snow because it was part of her home. California didn't have snow or changing seasons. It wouldn't feel like home.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"I guess I'll just miss Pennsylvania as a whole. I don't think sunshine should define winter, because snow is supposed to."

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"Well, maybe you'll end up liking the sun." Marcy's dad chuckled at Marcy's disgruntled expression.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"Come on, Randy! It's time to go!" Marcy's mom called from the front door where she was locking up while the movers carried out Marcy's bed. The last piece of furniture.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">"Okay, time to hit the road." Marcy's dad went out and sat in the driver's seat while Marcy's mom buckled up in the passenger seat.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">Marcy looked outside the window as her father drove out of the driveway, then out of the small town where they lived, then out of Pennsylvaina. She watched as snow started to fall and gather up on the windshield, almost like it was saying goodbye to Marcy. Until next time. And maybe by then, Marcy wouldn't want to come back. Maybe she would really like the California Christmases.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 150%;">THE END