TMNT are the property of Mirage, who threatened to have me arrested if I tried to send them a fruit cake. "Merii Kurisumasu."

Chapter 9: So Be Good for Goodness Sake!

The problem with living underground is that day and night can pretty much be the same.

Splinter got up at seven a.m. and turned on the electric lights in his room. He only had them on in the "mornings". Otherwise, candles were his lighting preference.

"Good morning, my sons," he announced to the sleeping turtles. "And Merry Christmas!"

One by one they stretched, yawned, made the usual waking up noises. But at the words "Merry Christmas" Mikey bolted upright from the futon, the disappointments of the night not forgotten but, in true Mikey fashion, forgiven.

There may not be gifts from Santa, he reasoned, but it WAS Christmas! There were the stockings, and there would be games, and Father would bake a chocolate cake!

AND he had a present for Father!

"Merry Christmas!" he shouted, jumping on the bed where Raph had burrowed under the covers. Leo had gotten up with the alarm, and Don was just now crawling out of the way, but Raph, not a morning person, had tried to keep the harsh, unfriendly light away by his typical tactic of burying himself under the blankets, pillow covering his head.

Mikey easily found the lump that was his brother, and he straddled him, crowing about being the champion of the dojo.

"Get off!" came the muffled protest, and Raph, weighed down with blanket, pillow, and little brother, had a hard time extricating himself from the bed.

"Yippee! It's Christmas! C'mon, Raphy! Let's go look in our stockings!" Mikey shouted. Then, as an after thought, he jumped off his brother and ran out of the door, shouting "I'm first to the bathroom!"

"He's always first to the bathroom," Raph grumbled, crawling out of bed and joining the others in line. He stood in the hall, grumpy as usual, and marveled in his mind at the sounds of singing coming from the bathroom. "I don't get it- last night he was crying his eyes out 'cause of what happened, and now he's acting like nothing's the matter."

"Well, you know Mikey," Leo responded, waiting for his turn. "He gets over stuff quickly."

"Yeah, but he's acting like it wasn't important after all," Raph shrugged.

"You guys are wrong," Don spoke up for his little brother. "He doesn't get over it. He just doesn't mope about it like you guys do. This meant a lot to him, and it still does. You guys'll never understand. Mikey doesn't hold grudges."

For some reason their attitude was making him angry. They acted like no one had had their hopes dashed, or their hearts broken by the events of the previous evening.

"Yeah, whatever," Raph, spinning around in the hall, bored, dismissed what Don was saying. He knew that Don was speaking the truth though. It had meant a lot to Mikey, and he and Leo would have to find some way to make it up to little brother. "Anyways, Leo, are we still going to trade apples and oranges? You know that-"

Suddenly Raph froze; in his spinning, he'd seen into the living room several times, not really paying attention, not really noticing anything- and then Something caught his attention. He stood there, dizzy and wavering, but staring as if there was something unbelievable just sitting there right before his eyes.

"Leo! Don! LOOK!" he shouted, his voice reflecting the shock.

"What's the mat-" Leo turned to look- and he, too, froze in disbelief. "No! It can't be!"

"Cannot be what, my son?" Splinter, dressed for the day, came out of his room and joined them in the hall. He, too, looked at the sight. "Well, what in the world! It looks as if we have had a visitor!"

"Mikey! Mikey! Hurry up!" Don shouted, smiling in anticipation. "MIKEY!"

"Wait your turn, I'm almost done!" he shouted back. Gee whiz. They messed up Christmas- the least they could do is not shout at him to hurry up in the bathroom. Well, Don hadn't messed it up, he corrected himself as he flushed the toilet and went to was his hands. But still...

Now all three were banging on the door, shouting:

"Mikey! Hurry up! You gotta hurry up and come see this!"

"Come on, Mikey, open the door!"

"Hurry! Hurry up!"

Mikey yanked the door open abruptly, rather annoyed. It didn't matter that he was trying to make the best of this situation, it made him mad that they were rushing him for no good reason.

"What's the big hurry-" but before he could continue, three pairs of hands grabbed him by the arms and pajamas; three excited brothers bodily dragged him into the living room; three pairs of eyes glued themselves to his face, wanting to be the first to see the anticipated expression.

Mikey, as they dragged him into the room, saw what they had been shouting about, and he quit moving. He stood frozen in place, afraid to go closer to the tree; REFUSING to go closer to the tree!

There were presents! PRESENTS! Large and small, beautifully wrapped- bows, ribbons, everything that he had ever seen in TV shows, story books, and movies!

PRESENTS!

On the tree, where he had hung his one candy cane- there were many more, many more candy canes! And cookies! Cookies shaped like little men!

But the PRESENTS! Mikey was sure he was mistaken; how could there be presents? They must all be for Don! Yes, Don was not forgotten by Santa! HURRAY! Don would get all the presents!

Then Splinter was standing there, smiling at his son. He had spoken to Michelangelo, but it had not registered. Mikey realized that his father was waiting for an answer.

"I... I'm sorry, Father, what did you say?"

"I said, you must hand out the presents," he replied, placing a hand on his shoulder and moving him towards the tree.

Mikey hung back; he was afraid if he got closer, it would all vanish, like some teasing dream. Splinter firmly guided him nearer the tree, and the presents stayed where they were.

He looked once more at Splinter. Splinter smiled encouragingly, and gestured him to pick up one of the gifts.

He reached his little hand out towards the nearest, as if afraid it would suddenly spring to life and attack him. Slowly his fingers neared the shiny red paper, decorated with a bright blue bow- closer, closer, closer- then came in contact with it- he snatched his hand back, suddenly shy. He stood there, and the scene began to blur in his vision as his eyes filled with tears. Then he burst out crying, putting his face in his hands.

"What the heck?" Raph, who had been watching the joy of his baby brother with the biggest grin on his face, was floored. "Mikey? What's the matter? Why are you crying?"

"Mikey, what is it?" Leo asked, also shocked at this sudden outburst. He tried to get a better look at the package he had touched; had it hurt him? Was it something that had hurt when he had touched it?

"My son, what is the problem?" Splinter asked, concerned, kneeling down to hold him.

Mikey's face came out of his hands, and he was grinning despite his tears.

"He came, after all," is all he said. Then he threw his arms around his father and hugged him tight.

Splinter felt his own throat choke up at the emotional reaction and the simple words of his son, and he understood Michelangelo's tears. He returned the hug, then gently made him let go.

"Your brothers are waiting, Michelangelo. Pass out the gifts to them."

Mikey laughed, and grabbed up the red package. It was addressed to Raphael!

"Here, Raph! Merry Christmas!" he shouted, and Raph stood there, dumbfounded, holding this shiny, shiny red package as if it would explode.

"For me?" the amazement in his voice more than matching the expression on his face. "For me?"

Tentatively, he shook it, he didn't know why. He sat down on the floor, plop, as if his legs had given out, and stared at the bright red paper-covered box as if looking at something unbelievable.

"Leo! This one's for you!" Mikey's voice cut through Raph's shock, and he glanced up to see his brother holding a small green and red striped package, looking as stunned as he was feeling.

"I- I-"

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Raph said, as Leo sank down cross-legged next to his brother. He, too, was unsure what to do.

"I guess we open them?" Leo, looking up at Splinter, asked.

"Let us wait until all the gifts are handed out," Splinter replied, and that was fine with Leo and Raph. They were still a bit leery of the whole thing; after all, who knew what could happen when dealing with Humans?

Though these things appeared to be harmless...

"Don! Look! LOOK! Here are two for you, one on top of the other!" Mikey sang out, and with much laughter he handed a large present to his brother, with a smaller one balanced on top. "OHHH! Here's another one for Raph! And another for Leo! Yeah! You guys got lucky after all!"

Before they could respond, Leo and Raph each had a large present on the floor in front of them to go with the smaller ones in their hands.

Then Mikey stopped shouting and laughing as he realized that two more presents were under the tree.

Suddenly, his enthusiasm was gone. He did not dare to touch them. They must be for Don, he thought. Don was the best- he would get more- he deserved more-

Splinter, seeing Michelangelo's hesitation, reached under the tree and retrieved the last two gifts, handing them to his son with a "Merry Christmas, Michelangelo."

Mikey, as if in a dream, reached out and took the presents. He, too, sank down on the floor, where Don joined him, smiling at his baby brother. On the tags, in beautiful handwriting, Mikey read the words: "To Michelangelo! Merry Christmas from Santa Claus!"

The four of them just sat there, eyes big, faces grinning. Splinter thought for a minute that they were not going to open anything. Then Raphael couldn't stand it any longer, and he tore open the smallest gift first. That rip of the paper echoed in the relative silence of the room, startling them all, and before he knew what he was doing, Leo was opening his smaller one as well. Donatello, shaking his head and smiling, opened his.

"A MOTORCYCLE!" Raph bellowed in joy. "A POLICE MOTORCYCLE!" The largest gift, the coming punishment, the fear of Santa was gone in the time it took Raph to get that brand new, shiny, unused toy from the box. He was on his knees in a heartbeat, crawling around on two knees and one hand, racing the incredibly new toy around the floor with the other hand, accompanied by various energetic "vroooooooooommmmmmm-vvvvrrrrrrrrrooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm-WOOOO-woooo-WOOOO-woooo" sound effects.

Leo stared hard at what he held: a brand-new, never before read, unstained by garbage book! He carefully traced the cover with one hand, lovingly feeling the smoothness of the dust jacket, carefully examining the picture.

"The Hobbit," he whispered, sounding out the strange word. This was a chapter book and no mistake about it! This was a brand-new book- something he'd never even dreamt of. Surely there would be NO missing pages or chapters in this! Why, he could tell just by looking that it had never been read before!

His very own, brand-new, untouched book! This was just too good to be true!

Don laughed at what he'd opened: it was a small tool kit, just the right size for a small turtle- yet they were REAL TOOLS! NOT toys, not used stuff that he and Splinter had found over the years, but real, honest to goodness shiny new tools! He fingered each one lovingly, imaging all the things he was going to do with them, just as soon as he found a project suitable for workign on with such magnificent objects!

Then they remembered the larger gifts! Now the initial shyness was off. The three of them, even Don, tore into the larger packages, and almost in unison the lair rang out with Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

"A Hot Wheels® race track! Wow! Just like the one I saw on TV!" Raph exclaimed, and the motorcycle was temporarily forgotten with the activity of a car-happy turtle opening the box, preparing to build the bestest race course in the world.

"Wow! Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots®!" Leo shouted, and he, too, forgot everything as he began the task of freeing this game from the pack and manipulating the controls, trying to figure out how to fight both of them at once without brotherly assistance.

Donatello was speechless- his was something called an Erector Set®- BETTER THAN LEGOS® AND BLOCKS!

"It says you can build five different things with this!" he excitedly told his father, who was beaming on at the sight. "Course, I can probably build more..."

Then eventually all eyes turned to Mikey. He was sitting there, clutching his presents, and just watching the others with a grin that was indescribable. He was joyfully observing each brother's reaction and actions as if viewing a special Christmas show put on just for him, just for the sole entertainment of Hamato Michelangelo. He wanted it to go on forever and ever and ever and ever and-

"Uh, Mikey, why ain't you opened your presents yet?" Raph finally asked, and the others echoed his question.

Mikey, as if in answer, just looked at the two gifts he was clutching on his lap. The smaller one was wrapped in beautiful green paper and decorated with lots and lots of snowmen who were putting up Christmas trees, or skiing, or carrying presents, or eating candy canes. The paper was shiny and crinkled at each loving touch; the sound was pleasing to the turtle, and for a while, he had just made it crackle and crinkle, as if playing music with it. The gold bow that tied off the gold ribbon that encircled the box was the prettiest thing he'd ever remembered seeing.

The largest box, almost half his size, was wrapped in red Santa Claus paper, and everywhere he looked was the jolly gift giver going about his business of spreading Christmas cheer to good little girls and boys. A shiny green ribbon and bow perfectly accented this most beautiful of presents, and Mikey just couldn't get enough of looking at it all- when he wasn't watching his brothers celebrating Christmas, that is!

Now he looked up at his family again. Why hadn't he opened his gifts yet? He shrugged his shoulders and smiled sheepishly.

"Cause they're presents," he said simply. Then he looked at them again, and hugged them. "Cause they're presents from Santa, and... and... well, they're presents."

Now everyone looked at each other, confused.

"Whatcha gonna do, sleep with 'em instead of opening 'em?" Raph asked, serious, as he pictured Mikey carrying them around for ever and ever in their unwrapped state.

"My son, please open your gifts," Splinter requested with a smile. Mikey looked into his father's rich brown eyes, and smiled back, then looked again at his gifts. He hated to tear up that paper! It was as beautiful as anything he'd ever seen.

Then, carefully, and to the amusement of the others, Mikey, who was never known to take anything slow- how many times, for example, had he burnt his mouth trying to eat the occasional slice of really hot pizza before it had cooled enough to be safely bitten into- gently worked the gold ribbon off of the small box, carefully unfastened the tape that held down the paper, and by great effort unwrapped his gift without tearing one snowman- and whooped with delight.

"A PUZZLE! A SANTA PUZZLE!"

There was a box containing a jigsaw puzzle that evidently had 1000 pieces, and the finished picture was one of Santa, sitting in his chair by the fireplace, boots off, jacket off, and stockinged feet propped up, snoozing. The calendar on the wall read "December 26th", and it was so funny that Mikey laughed long and loud- though more for the joy of having a puzzle that was NOT going to be missing pieces like the ones Splinter had found over the years.

He was so thrilled with this gift that for a moment the larger one was forgotten- but not for long. This time he worked quicker, but still just as carefully. Santa and the ribbon both survived the unwrapping. But unlike his brothers, the box he uncovered revealed nothing of what it contained. He worked the lid off-

"OH! OH! OH! OH!" was all that came out of his mouth. The others crowded in close to peer inside.

There were several large, thick pads of art paper! And a huge box of 120 brand-new, unbroken, perfect CRAYONS! And PENCILS of all colors! And special drawing pencils! And erasers! And PAINTS, real PAINTS! And something called "oil pastels"! And BRUSHES, and MARKERS and GLUE and... and... and...

"Wow, Mikey!" Leo was impressed, as were the others. This was so cool! It was as if someone had personally chosen each item and put it in the box especially for their little brother. It was the perfect gift for him.

Indeed, all the gifts were perfect, but for some reason, even more than the tools that Donnie got, this was extra-special perfect!

Happy chatter reigned in the living room for several more minutes as the brothers examined each other's gifts, and laughed, and promised to share with each other, and so on- and in the midst of it all, Don nudged Mikey.

"Hey!" he whispered, nodding his head pointedly towards Splinter.

Oh, NO! Mikey had forgotten! With a shout, he jumped up, ran as fast as he could into the bedroom and was back before anyone (except Don) knew what he was up to.

"Here, Father!" he grinned, huffing from the quick run and holding out the beautiful small gift to Splinter. "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

Splinter pretended surprise.

"A- a gift for ME?" he asked, eyes wide as he took the present from his beaming son. "Why, who gave me a gift?"

"All of us," Mikey quickly announced. "Only Leo and Raph didn't get to sign their names yet..."

"No," Leo denied. He was not going to let Mikey do this. "No, Father. Raph and I had nothing to do with that present. That was all Mikey and Don's idea."

"Actually," Don said, clarifying, "it was all Mikey's idea. I just helped."

"No!" Michelangelo put on his stubborn face and looked at them all. "I say it is from all of us. Merry Christmas! Open it! Open it!"

Splinter, humoring his son, carefully unwrapped the package, revealing-

"An Electric Shaver?"

He quickly glanced at the face of his son. That face was simply glowing with pride and love as he watched his father holding the special present.

Splinter recovered quickly, and managed to smile in genuine gratitude.

"My son, this is- this is quite a surprise," he said honestly. "I do not know how to thank you for this- unique gift."

And he hugged Michelangelo, who returned it tenfold.

"Merry Christmas," Mikey whispered again, squeezing Splinter tight. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he affirmed back, then looked at them all. "I love all of you, my sons. Now, how about some pancakes for breakfast?"

His question was greeted with a chorus of "yes!", and four turtles, after carefully cleaning up the papers and carefully placing their opened gifts back under the tree, hurried to finish what Christmas presents had interrupted- using the bathroom and getting ready for the day!