Warning! This story contains some cursing and adult situations which may be inappropriate for some readers. This story is voluntarily rated PG for parental guidance. This story also contains religious discussion which may be offensive to some readers.
Raph was up before ten the next morning. Way before ten. In fact, when Casey staggered into the kitchen at six o’clock, Raph was already there, brewing coffee and scrambling eggs with chunks of ham and cheddar. He grinned. “Morning, Case, up in time for sunrise, I see.”
“Mmrrrff,” Casey mumbled, and poured the coffee. Raph, he reflected, is unusually chipper this morning. “What’s up with you, man? Why the sudden shift of moods?”
Raph shrugged. “Christmas, man. Go with the flow.” Casey snorted. Since when does Raph observe Christmas with a show of Christmas spirit? Oh, well. Don’t rock the boat, Casey told himself. What’s wrong with Raph being friendly for a change?
Raph hummed “Jingle Bells” and served out Casey with a portion of eggs, tossing a bagel onto the plate as well. He had surprised himself that morning when he woke up with the realization that Taiwam hadn’t made a sound since the night before. He’s dead! was Raph’s first thought, and he quickly rolled out of bed to verify the sinking feeling in his gut. To his surprise, the puppy was still very much alive, and woke as he leaned over it. As Raph went for the milk, then fed Taiwam with it, he reflected that he had really come to love the little guy. “Yer growin’ on me, pal,” he’d told the puppy. “Don’t watch out, I’ll be in love with ya next.” Least I know he can sleep through the night, Raph thought. ‘Course, it was only six hours, but it’s a start.
“Hey,” Casey said. “You feel up to that exercise run this morning? I’m gettin’ out of practice.”
“And out of shape,” Raph commented wryly. “Yer gettin’ a gut, Casemeister.”
“Say what? Well piss off!!!” Raph snickered as Casey shook his head. “My own best friend turned against me.”
“Would that be the beer or the cookies?” Raph asked innocently. He dodged Casey’s punch.
“That’s it! I challenge you to a duel!”
“You’re on. Right after I finish dueling these eggs.” Raph wolfed into his breakfast. Taiwam will be okay for a couple hours. I need to get out and work the kinks out. Turn into an old fart sittin’ around on my butt. He looked up from his plate when he realized Master Splinter was standing in the kitchen doorway. “Welcome back, Master,” he said politely. “Would you like something?”
“Tea would be fine, Raphael,” Splinter said graciously. Raph jumped up to make it. Splinter set his walking stick and satchel on the floor and seated himself at the table, smiling at Casey. “So, Casey Jones, did my sons behave themselves?” Raph snorted loudly.
“Nah, regular bunch of terrors. Won’t catch me baby-sitting for ‘em again.” Raph passed by Casey to hand a cup of tea to Splinter, using the opportunity to smack Casey in the head.
“Watch yer mouth, or you’ll be wolf bait.” He cackled. “Chop ya up and leave ya out in th’ snow for th’ critters!”
“Good luck!” Casey exclaimed. “How ‘bout that duel, huh?” In response, Raph dashed out of the room, returned moments later with his sais, and flew out the door. Casey cackled as he slammed the door shut. “Now I can finish breakfast in peace.” Leo sauntered in, yawning, saw Splinter, and managed a respectful, but sleepy, bow.
“Welcome back, Master,” he said. “How was your journey?”
“Peaceful,” the rat said. “And somewhat enlightening. How did you fare without me to keep things under control?” His whiskers twitched in amusement. Leo smiled.
“All right. Raphael was acting strangely, but I think he’s over it.” Leo quickly ran through the details of the previous day.
“Yeah, right,” said Casey. “There’s more than one way to be whacked out, Leo. And Raph’s still way off the deep end. He’s so cheerful you wouldn’t believe it was him. Coulda sworn it was Mike; hummin’ Christmas songs, up early to make breakfast, goin’ on about Christmas spirit....Weird, just weird.”
Leo frowned. “You’re right--that doesn’t sound like him at all.”
“My son, you worry too much,” Splinter sighed. “You were concerned that Raphael was too solitary and reserved. Now you worry because he is being friendly. Is that not what you wanted?”
“Yes, I suppose it is silly, Master Splinter,” said Leo thoughtfully. “But don’t his mood swings worry you? I mean, usually when one of us starts acting strangely it means trouble. I assume that this time won’t be any different.”
“Assume?” the rat frowned at Leonardo. “You assume too much, I think. Why must everything have an inner truth that is sinister? For once, enjoy the luxury of taking something at face value. As ninja, we so rarely have the chance to stave off intrigue and look at the painfully obvious.”
“And what’s the painfully obvious in this case?” interjected Casey.
“Something has happened to Raphael,” Splinter said simply. “Not something bad, I think. He does not wish to tell you about it, which explains his secrecy. But now, he is happy. That is all.” Leo thought about it. What his sensei said made sense. But they had such rare occasion to see Raphael happy....Splinter seemed to read his thoughts. “Enjoy it, my son,” the rat said, gently touching Leo’s shoulder. “It is Christmas. Cherish the opportunity to see a new side of your brother.”
“Yaaaaahhhhh,” said Casey with a yawn. “All this mental stuff. I’m gonna take Raph up on that exercise.” He went for his golf bag, then took off out the door, howling, “Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of a GREEN MIDGET!!” Leo sniggered as Casey’s howls of derisive laughter trailed off into the distance. “Better hide, Raphael! I’m coming for youuuuuuuuu!” Splinter just smiled, gathered up his things, and took them--and his tea--upstairs to get some well-deserved rest.
* * *
Mike hummed as he set his presents under the tree. He had gotten up early so he would be the first one to have the loot spread out under the tree, but to his surprise, he was actually fourth up. Leo, lingering over toasted bagels and orange juice, had filled him in: Splinter was upstairs resting after his journey home, and Raph and Casey had been and gone. Sitting on the couch watching the news, he absently picked the blue m&ms out of the candy dish. He wished the others would get up; he wanted to start the all-day Christmas movie marathon they had planned. Raph and Casey wouldn’t want to watch, they never did. But then again, with what Leo had told him about Raph’s behavior today, could Mike really take that for granted?
He ceased contemplating when Don and April entered the room. “Ready,” Don said cheerfully. He was a morning person, darn him. Mike was definitely not. He was running on pure Christmas cheer. April rolled her eyes and flopped onto an armchair. Leo slouched onto some couch cushions on the floor, and Shadow wandered in, bagel in hand. “Darn!” said Don. “Raph hid the remote again.” Hide-the-remote was an ongoing game for them--Raph did this every time he was up before they were. Mike grinned and popped in “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” He hoped Raph would be back before it was over; he would definitely get the joke. Mike cackled wickedly and settled back to watch the movie.
A couple hours--and a LOT of blue m&ms--later, Mike announced a brief intermission. As Leo made a beeline for the bathroom-- Heh. Too much oj.--Don went upstairs. Good thing Raph is so predictable, Don thought. The remote was usually somewhere in Raph’s room, so Don pushed the door open and stepped inside. What he saw next made him yelp with surprise.
* * *
Leo heard Don’s surprised cry. Great, he thought. Raph’s left some cute trap for Don to fall into. Back to his old tricks. Maybe the whole Christmas spirit bit was a sham? “Find the remote?” he asked as Don reentered. “Or-” He stared. In Don’s arms was a small bundle of black fur. They all gaped. Klunk hissed and crouched in the corner of the room.
“This, actually,” Don said softly. “It’s a puppy.” They were all awed for a moment.
“Ut-oh,” came the voice from the door. They saw Raph standing there, looking highly embarrassed. Great timing, Raph, he scolded himself.
“Raph?” asked April.
“Um...” Raph couldn’t think of anything to say.
“A puppy?” Leo asked. Raph shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. One mystery solved, Leo thought smugly. No wonder Raph had been so secretive! He’d been hiding a puppy!
Mike suddenly collapsed into giggles. “Hehe! Raph--and a puppy! Oh, this is too, too much! Wait till I tell Casey!”
“Tell me what?” Casey followed Raph closely.
“Raph’s been hiding a puppy!” snickered Mike. Casey gaped.
“Say it ain’t so, man!” Casey’s eyes narrowed. “You goin’ soft on me?”
“I’d hardly talk. Yer always fawning all over Shadow...”
“Well--that’s different! Shadow’s my little girl.”
Shadow interrupted, hands on hips. “Little girl, huh? I’m eleven years old, I’ll have you know.” Casey gave her a small hug.
“Ah, you’re my princess, Shadow.” Meanwhile, Mike was trying to bring his giggles under control, and Leo was now cuddling the puppy.
“What’s he called?” he asked.
“Taiwam,” Raph said. Don raised an eyebrow. He too knew some Shi’ar; he explained the name to the others.
“Nice choice, Raph,” Mike said sarcastically. Leo had turned the puppy over and was now examining his paws.
“Nah, Raph’s right,” Leo said. “Look at this--the little guy’s gonna be enormous!”
“You’re right,” agreed Don. He rubbed the puppy’s stomach.
Raph swiftly overcame his embarrassment and came across to snatch the puppy from Leo. “Careful, guys, he’s just a baby! Some jerk dumped ‘im on the highway.” Mystery two, solved, Leo thought.
“Poor puppy,” crooned April. “You’re so cute...” Casey rolled his eyes.
“On the news last week,” Don said. “There was a story about that. Apparently, a lot of people use that stretch of highway for dumping unwanted pets. Sometimes, if they’re old enough and smart enough, they can hack it in the woods for a while. But not little ones like this. I found some dead kittens out there a few weeks ago.”
“Well we’ll take good care of this one,” said April firmly. “You’ve been feeding him?”
“Milk,” said Raph eagerly. “With an eyedropper.” April nodded.
“He looks like he’s doing fine.” She stroked his head gently. “You’ll be just fine, little guy.”
Mike suddenly chuckled, and pointed to the bristling Klunk. “Guess that explains Klunk’s behavior. And why he didn’t want to be near you, dog-boy,” he directed at Raph. Mike scooped up his cat. “Don’t worry boy. I haven’t forgotten you.”
* * *
A knock on the front door threw the room into silence. All of them were wide-eyed and wondering. Who would come out to this obscure little piece of property in Northampton? Casey slowly moved to the door, and opened it, praying it wouldn’t be someone he knew, an old friend of his grandmother’s he would have to invite in for coffee. To his relief, it was just a black-haired young man with light blue eyes, not more than 30 years old. Casey studied his clothes: dark slacks and shirt, a black collar with white showing through? Where have I seen that before? he wondered. Then he recalled seeing the priests at the church he’d attended with his parents wearing similar collars. Must be a church thing. But what could a priest want here? Casey raised an eyebrow. He could almost feel the tension of his friends back down the hall, who were frozen, listening. “Can I help you?”
“Yes,” he man said firmly, looking Casey in the eye. “My name is Greg Trelland. I’m here to see Donny.” Casey was left reeling, not only by the fact that this man knew the turtles at all, but also by the fact that he had found them. He didn’t even know if the farm’s address was in the county listing. Or maybe that was crazy--Don must have told him.
“Ahhhh, come in,” said Casey, stepping aside and holding the door for Greg as he stepped in.
“Thank you. Is Donatello here?” He scanned the foyer, looking up the hall toward the living room.
“‘Scuse me,” said Casey and almost dashed back down the hall. Obviously there was nothing to report, they’d heard every word, and were staring in shocked silence at Donatello, demanding an explanation. Don wanted to melt. Oh, no, Greg, he thought. Not now. Not when I’m already in hot water with Raph.... He’d managed to shut out all he negativity and the hurt feelings. A few minutes ago he’d almost completely forgotten the fights and the anger, he’d actually been laughing and talking with Raph as if nothing had happened. But now all the negativity came flooding back. He felt dizzy.
“Well?” Leo asked coldly. “Does this guy know you or not.”
“Um.” Don cleared his throat. “Yeah. He knows me. I told you about Greg, remember?”
“You didn’t say that he knew who you really were,” Mike said quietly. Don bowed his head. It was true--he hadn’t really explained that Greg knew that he was a mutant, and knew about his family.
“But I didn’t say he didn’t know,” Don tried to protest, but he knew it was futile.
“So you allowed us to believe what you knew was not true.” Splinter’s voice was never harsh, but it was stern and unyielding, and Don knew that he was in deep trouble.
“I cannot--believe--that you--would tell--someone--about--us--without--consulting--us,” Leo said, making breaks between the words so that his speaking was slow and measured.
“How many ‘a yer other church friends know about us?” snarled Raph, his anger--contained so well these past couple days--suddenly bursting free.
“No one, it’s just Greg!”
“Yah, RIGHT,” growled Raph, so angrily that he started shifting back into his accent. “Like how do we know you’re tellin’ the truth? Ya LIAR. What’d ja do, go up to the pulpit and make an announcement?” Raph was relentless. His eyes shone with hatred. For once, no one stopped his ranting. The whole group was directing their anger against Don.
“Now hang on,” said a voice. Don realized that Greg had come up the hall and was standing in the doorway watching them rip Don apart. “I think I’d better come clean. It was MY fault that Donatello had to explain things. I’m afraid I got a bit nosy and tried to follow him home. I saw him taking off his disguise, and he had to explain things to me.”
Raph pointed a finger. “Yeah? Well how many people have YOU told, then?”
Don grabbed his finger and twisted his arm down. “That’s not fair, Raph! Greg promised me not to tell, and he’s kept his word!”
“Well maybe YOU’RE the one who’s lyin’, then!”
“Hai! Enough!” Splinter sharply cut off the argument. “This arguing is foolishness. Donatello, you should have told us when Greg learned of us.”
“I know...but you were already mad at me, and I didn’t want you more angry. And I knew Raph would blow it out of proportion, like he is now.”
“Blowin’ it out of proportion, am I?” growled Raph.
“Raph,” Leo cut him off with a glare. April and Casey were utterly silent, not wanting to interrupt the family scene. Shadow was wide-eyed as she clung to April. She’d seen them fight, but never this seriously. And never had Splinter become so involved. Even Mike was slightly afraid to intervene or take sides. Greg stood silently now, watching the turtles glare at each other.
“We have rules,” Raph said evenly. “Rules about not giving ourselves away to every human who asks. The first rules we ever learned.”
Leo gave Don a hard look. “The most important rules we ever learned.” He crossed his arms over his plastron.
“Rules that you break constantly,” Don aimed at Raph.
“Not nearly as much as you. First ya start with this religious bullshit, and then ya start tellin’ the whole world about us!”
“You’re exaggerating, Raph,” Leo mediated calmly. “One person.”
“How do we know that? He coulda told his entire friggin’ church fer all we know!” Raph replied heatedly. “C’mon, Leo, he pulls this crap all the time, and I’m tired of it.”
“What are you saying?” growled Don, getting in Raph’s face.
“I’m sayin’ maybe people like you don’t BELONG in this family!”
They all gaped at Raph. Don had an expression on his face as if he’d been slapped. Good God, Don thought. He really wants me to leave! Don suddenly felt fear. He hadn’t known that Raph hated him enough to want him out of his life completely.
“What did you say, Raph?” Mike asked slowly.
“You heard me,” Raph growled. “I’m sayin’ there’s no place here for people who don’t care what happens when they expose their family to danger.” He clenched his fists and glared at them all in defiance. Suddenly Mike and Leo both broke out with protests.
“Raph, you can’t--”
“How dare you presume to--”
They were hushed by the sound of Splinter’s stick slamming against the ground with a force none of them thought his frail body could hold. “That is ENOUGH, I said! Raphael, NO one is leaving. Not this time. If you drive your brother away, Raphael, there will be no healing the rifts between you. Now sit down, ALL of you,” he said with a glance at Greg, “And we will discuss this.” He sat on the floor, indicating that they should form a circle. April tugged Shadow down beside her as she sat next to Splinter. On Splinter’s right, Raph sulkily threw himself down between Leo and Mike, leaving Don to crouch across from Splinter, alone. Behind him, Greg sat cross-legged, leaning against the door’s frame.
Don knew that this was not just about Greg, it was about him and Raph. And it was about Don’s religion. This little argument had suddenly turned into a formal family meeting. With the barely restrained glares of fury, and the prickling tension, Don felt like he was on trial for murder.
“Donatello, what do you have to say?” Splinter began quietly.
Donatello thought for a moment, then spoke. “I admit that I should have told you when I explained about us to Greg. And I confess that I’ve been somewhat difficult to deal with this past year. But I can’t apologize for my beliefs if they offend anyone-” Raphael sucked in his breath, but Splinter motioned him to be silent. “And I WON’T,” Don said heatedly, looking hard at Raph.
“Raphael,” said Splinter with a warning glance. Raphael began calmly.
“I’m offended not only by Don’s beliefs, but by the fact that he won’t leave me alone about them. I’m tired of havin’ his opinions shoved down my throat!” He glared at Don.
“Splinter?” asked April hesitantly.
“You are a member of this family, child. Speak your mind,” Splinter said gently.
“I’ve been with you guys a long time, and--well, I hate to see you at odds like this. You’re supposed to be a family, and it’s Christmas Eve! I think Don and Raph are both at fault and maybe...maybe they just need to apologize and forget about it.”
“Uh-” Casey cleared his throat and Splinter nodded to him. “I’ll second that. Don and Raph, you guys both need ta chill out.”
Leo cleared his throat and then spoke, with Splinter’s permission. “Over the past few days, there’s been increasing tension between Donatello and Raphael. In fact, throughout this whole group. At first I thought it was dropping off, but I was wrong. I’ve said before that Donatello was wrong to force his ideas on us. And though Raphael is not wrong to take offense at it, he IS wrong in that he lets Don get to him, and he retaliates with violence and hatred more often than not. They both need to apologize for acting like jerks and making what seems to be a valient attempt at ruining Christmas. And they need to apologize to one another, as well.”
They could all see from Splinter’s nod that he agreed with Leonardo. “Michaelangelo? What do you have to say?”
“I think everything’s pretty much been said,” Mike said, unusually serious. “Don and Raph are both wrong, they both need to apologize and make up. And you guys, you’re letting something really stupid come between you.”
Don bristled. “My religion is not--” Splinter waved him silent.
Mike continued. “I’m not saying either of your belief systems are stupid or wrong. Just that it’s stupid to argue over it and hate each other just because you don’t think the same way! That’s happened so many times throughout history, and it’s always caused trouble. Even today, a lot of the crimes we’ve stopped have been caused because one group is different from another one, and they hate each other because of it. It’s not right. You two just have to WAKE UP and see what hatred is doing to you, and doing to this family!” Mike finished in a rush, and sat back, breathing hard. Raphael was staring at the floor, not looking at anyone. Don looked startled, but understanding.
“Sir?” came the hesitant voice. They all looked at Greg. “Sir, I’d like to say something, if it’s all right.”
Splinter nodded. “Despite the anger and hostility you see here, Greg, you are not the source of this trouble. Of course it’s all right for you to speak.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry if I caused trouble for Donatello, but I have a feeling this problem has existed for some time, and not just from what Don has told me about it. I’m a Christian, and as such I have a real problem with the kind of anger and divisiveness I’m seeing here. Raphael seems to be reacting badly to the entire situation. But Donatello--you’re wrong, too.” Donatello’s eyes were wide as he stared at Greg. “I don’t mean wrong in belief; there’s nothing wrong with wanting your family to believe as you do, to be saved. Salvation through Jesus Christ is God’s greatest gift, and most Christians have the desire to share it with those they love.” Raphael snorted, but Greg ignored him.
“But you cannot force someone to change their beliefs or abandon their own faith. Donatello, could Raphael force you to renounce your faith and believe as he does?” Silently, Don shook his head no. “Then why do you think you could force him to renounce HIS beliefs?” The room was dead silent. “That doesn’t mean you can’t share your faith. But you’ve tried witnessing and your family is not ready to accept what you believe. There is more than one way to share your faith. I think your best course is to be a silent witness.” Greg could see Don’s confusion. “The best way for you to share your faith right now is to give yourself up to God and let your family see how faith has changed you.
“Your family and friends know what you were like before, and they are comparing the old Donatello to the new one. By forcing yourself on them, you make yourself look like a jerk, and you turn them away from faith in God. Just be the way Jesus wants you to be; you don’t have to try to look perfect, but there will be a change in you, even if it is not noticeable at first. And when they see the change, maybe they’ll get curious and want to learn more about your faith. If you really love your family and want them to come to Christ, give them time.”
“So according to you, I really messed up,” Don said softly.
“Yes, I’m afraid you have. That’s why I told you to lay off before.”
“Then what do I do know?” Don sounded helpless and he felt alone.
Greg smiled at him. “Apologize to your family, apologize to God, and ask forgiveness from both quarters. Then stop trying to evangelize and be your changed self. God will take care of it. You have to have faith in that.” Slowly, Don nodded. All of them were affected by Greg’s wise words. Even Raph was looking a little less skeptical and distrustful.
Splinter spoke again, breaking the silence with the ‘sentence.’ “Donatello and Raphael. Your stubbornness and anger have disturbed everyone and you must apologize.”
“Now?” Donatello was dismayed.
“Yes, now,” Splinter said firmly. “Donatello.”
Don sighed. “I-I’ve said a lot of stuff that’s...upset everybody. And I’ve been fighting with Raph and upsetting everybody more....So I guess-I’m sorry. I hope you guys can forgive me for acting the way I have been.”
“I can,” Splinter said. With a smile, he granted the requested forgiveness. “Raphael.”
Raphael was even more reluctant than Donatello had been, but he knew that Splinter was not going to let him back out of this one. “I, uh, I’ve been getting real angry at Don about stupid stuff an’ upsetting you guys, an’ I’m sorry,” he said quickly.
“Raphael, you are forgiven.” Splinter twitched his whiskers and looked stern. “But now, you must apologize to each other.” Raphael and Donatello looked at each other with dismay. Despite what Greg had said, Donatello was not yet ready to apologize personally to Raphael. It was okay to apologize to the group for fighting. That was easy. But to admit to Raph that he was wrong...he just wasn’t ready. He could see from Raph’s face that he was not ready either. Splinter noted their expressions. “I must be somewhat lax in judgment for the moment. You need not apologize now, and it need not be formally, in front of everyone. Think about it, and apologize to each other at some point before we leave to return to New York. This meeting is finished. I am going to have lunch. Greg is welcome to stay for the rest of the day, and he is invited to dinner as well.”
Raph didn’t look happy about this at all, but Splinter had invited Greg personally, and Raph couldn’t argue. The room slowly emptied as they all wandered into the kitchen, leaving Don alone with Greg. “Thanks, Greg,” he said softly. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Greg waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t mention it. I meant everything I said, too. It’ll turn out okay.” Greg laid a reassuring hand on Don’s shoulder. “Now I order you to cheer up. It’s Christmas Eve.”
Don smiled at him. “I can’t believe you came all the way out here to see me!” Greg laughed.
“Wellll...I didn’t want to wait until you got back to give you this.” He handed Don a brightly wrapped box.
“Should I wait to open this?”
“Nah, I wanna see you. Open it now.” Greg grinned as Don tore the paper off his gift, revealing a dark green box. He carefully took off the lid and lifted out a leather-covered green book. The pages were edged in gold, and on the cover in gold were a small cross and in the lower right hand corner, Donatello’s name. Don hugged Greg.
“Greg! I can’t believe you got me this!”
“You like it?”
“I LOVE it! Thank you!” Don cradled the hymnal, carefully flipping through the thin pages. Then he gently settled it back into the box. “I have something for you, too, but you’ll have to come to the barn to see it.”
“Sure,” Greg agreed. Don quickly shoved on his boots and wrapped up in his jacket.
“C’mon!” He led Greg out to his workshop, and then carefully removed something from a high shelf. He handed it to Greg with a sheepish grin. “Sorry I didn’t get the chance to wrap it--I just finished it, and I didn’t expect to see you till next week.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Greg was saying, but he broke off when he saw what Don had handed him. It was a crucifix, about a foot high, too large to wear, but it was made for hanging on a wall. The cross was carefully squared away, and the image of Christ carved against it was exquisite. He hung against the cross, a picture of agony. The carefully sculpted expression on his face revealed agony and death--but also love and pity. Greg was agape as he stared at it. “Don--this, this is incredible. I’ve never seen anything so finely done in my life.” Don blushed. “Thank you.” He hugged Don tightly, and Don was not embarrassed to hug his friend back.
* * *
By the time they all sat down to dinner that night, Greg had done the rounds, making friends with most of the family. He had won them over one by one: discussing philosophy with Splinter (he’d been a philosophy major in college), watching Leo perform katas, sipping tea with April, chopping firewood with Casey, and playing a board game with Shadow. And he instantly won Mike over by complimenting him on his lasagna. The only person still unconvinced was Raph, and he hadn’t even let Greg get close enough to talk to him.
Raph seemed to be going out of his way to avoid Greg when he joined Casey on a last-minute shopping trip into Northampton. But to everyone’s surprise, Don decided to go too. He left Greg to get to know his family and climbed into the van. Casey watched in the rearview mirror as Raph and Don sat on opposite sides of the cargo area and ignored each other. But thankfully, there were no expolosions.
Casey did notice something very peculiar, however. After some wanderings, Raph manuevered his way into the Christian Light Bookstore. And Don somehow managed to find himself in the Pop music section of The Wall, a place he normally wouldn’t be caught dead. Casey thought about making a joke about it; but he decided that there must be something going on, or why else would the boys be sneaking around? Perhaps it would be better if he kept his mouth shut....
At dinner, Raph could no longer avoid Greg, and the others watched the two uneasily as Raph glared at Greg. Raph shifted in his seat, wishing he was somewhere else. But a few stern words from Splinter halted his first plan--to split and return to the farmhouse after Greg had gone--and he had no choice. Greg seemed oblivious to Raph’s dislike. He put a forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “Mmm,” he said after he swallowed. “Mike, this is heaven.” Mike beamed as Leo and Don rolled their eyes.
Mike carefully tasted his creation. “Ah, another culinary delight from the kitchen of Michaelangelo.”
April snorted. “Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back, Mike.” Even Raph cracked a grin at Mike’s rueful look.
“Just making an observation,” he said, wounded.
“I think it’s wonderful,” Greg assured him.
“Ah, don’t let that old faker fool you,” scoffed Leo. “He’s made this a million times and he knows we know it’s perfect.”
“Yes,” agreed Splinter. “Your cooking is wonderful, as always, Michaelangelo. But your ego--I think it has been overcooked.” Mike gaped as they reeled with helpless laughter.
“Good one, Master,” tittered Donatello.
“Are you feeling ill, Splinter?” April asked, frowning in concern.
“Don’t look now, Splinter just made a joke!” exclaimed Casey. Greg watched them in puzzlement.
“Yes. It must be the Apocalypse, is that right?” asked Splinter, anticipating the next joke.
“Two in a row!” whooped Mike. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a record!”
“Ta da!” cried Leo.
“Is it always this funny around here?” Greg asked Don.
“No,” Raph replied irritably, playing with his fork.
April tried to steer them away from a possible argument. “There’s a rule that Mike has to make this at least once when we all get together.”
“Raph?” Raphael tensed as Greg addressed him. “Could you please pass me the bread?” Relaxing, Raph complied. Klunk sauntered up to Greg and meowed pitifully. “Hey, boy.”
Mike leaned a little towards Greg and whispered conspiratorially, “Tell ya a secret. You give him a piece of meat from your lasagna, and he’ll be your friend for life.” Greg obediently gave the cat a chunk of the meat. After he swallowed it, Klunk purred contentedly, rubbing against Greg’s leg. Suddenly reminded of something, Raph jumped up and went into the living room. When he returned, he carried Taiwam in his arms. Greg watched as he went about heating milk for the puppy.
“May I hold him?” he asked. Raph darted a suspicious look at Greg, then carefully placed the tiny dog in his lap. Greg stroked Taiwam as Raph hovered protectively. “He’s adorable. What’s his name?”
“Taiwam. It means ‘huge’.”
Greg chuckled. “It’ll be a while before he grows into that one. I don’t envy you, having to get up in the small hours to feed him; young puppies can be a pain.”
Raph looked at him suspiciously. “How would you know?”
“My mom loved dogs. She was always bringing strays home and there were always lots of puppies around, so I learned to feed them.”
“Oh yeah?” Raph’s tone was not as challenging as his words, and the others realized that he was softening. “Prove it.” He thrust the dropper at Greg and set the bowl down on the table. Greg gently fed the puppy until it could drink no more. Raph looked at him with grudging respect. The others saw that between Greg’s love of puppies and the fact that he hadn’t mentioned religion all night, Raph had finally accepted the man.
* * *
“Do you have to go?” asked Shadow as Greg put on his coat.
“I’m afraid so. I got out of doing the evening service at church, Pastor Tim covered for me. But it’s late, and I have to get back home to do morning service tomorrow.” He grinned at Shadow. “Dinner was great, though.”
“Hey, when we’re back in New York, you should come visit us again,” Mike suggested.
“Yeah,” added Raph. “Don can give you the address.”
“I’d like that,” Greg said. “Merry Christmas, all of you.” His gaze rested on Raph for a moment. “Don, would you walk me out to my car?”
“Sure,” said Don, and they bundled up. They went down the walk in silence, and soon stood next to Greg’s car. “How did you do it?” Don blurted.
“Do what?” Greg asked gently.
“Get them to accept you so fast! When they knew about your beliefs ahead of time!”
“I did what I told you to do, Don. I was myself. I just had to give them the chance to see that despite my relationship with God, I’m a real person, and I can laugh and have fun, not just spend all my time preaching.” He put his hand on Don’s shoulder. “Think about what I said, Donatello.”
“I will,” Don said softly.
“Merry Christmas.” Greg got into his car and started it up.
“Merry Christmas, Greg,” Don replied. Then he stepped back from the car so Greg could back slowly out into the snow-layered street. Smiling to himself, Don turned and walked back up toward the house, where his family was waiting for him.