The Hitchhiker's Guide to What Christmas Is *Really* About

by Togemon

Random Dent stared at the television screen. She preferred her more useful wrist TV whenever possible, but unfortunately, it wasn't compatible with the kind of backwards data used to broadcast Earth stations. The only place she could pick up anything else was out in an open field on a clear day, and then all she could get was fuzzy rock videos. No one bothered to beam premium channels out to this crummy planet. No wonder it gets blown up, Random had thought shortly after her arrival on September 5, 1997.

Now it was the day after Thanksgiving, which had been a disaster well worth forgetting- Ford Prefect was absolutely *impossible* to cook for. Trying to forget about the stacks of dirty dishes- most containing ruined dressing or lima beans- Random had sat down in front of the TV and switched it to a station called NBC, which showed cool sitcoms and had an interesting morning show with a cute host with a really weird name- Matt something-or-other. Right now, an obnoxious woman named Martha was taking up air time cooking and making things. Why would anyone want to watch this stuff? Random wondered. It's bad enough having to do it yourself. No point in reliving it. Just as she was about to turn the set off, the show broke to a commercial. That was what had caught Random's attention.

An overweight man with a white beard and glasses was staring out at her laughing a very fake laugh. He was old- in fact, he looked rather like a fat version of Slartibartfast. He was dressed in a red suit with white fur trim and a dorky hat. What the hell? thought Random.

"Ho ho ho," said the man. "Thanksgiving's over and you know what that means! CHRISTMAS SHOPPING! Time to get all those presents bought for honey and the kids- and don't forget dear old Uncle Fred!" The fat man went on to explain that some store was having a sale on the perfect gifts for Dear Uncle Fred, and asking why didn't she come on and do her Christmas shopping early?

Random switched off the set. "Ford!" she yelled toward the kitchen where she had last seen him eating cold turkey for breakfast. "What's this Christmas thing?"

She wandered into the kitchen. Ford was still there, typing furiously into the Guide.

"Here," he said finally, sliding it toward her across the table. "Read that. It tells you better than I could."

"Christmas," Random read, "is a holiday celebrated to honor the birth of the son of God, who's supposed to be God himself, but somehow got born into several different forms on several different planets, which is really kind of odd and sort of makes you wonder. Ironically, the same traditions developed independently of one another on every planet that celebrates the holiday. These include singing songs, decorating with and on foliage, and kissing under plant clippings. Other traditions include overeating, overshopping, and overspending.

"'Christmas is a waste of time unless you really enjoy working to death, or if you actually believe in it. Getting presents is, however, one good point about it. Any presents you might happen to want to send will be accepted. Mail them in care of my editor.' -Oolon Colluphid, God and the Days He Says We Must Celebrate Him"

Random looked up from the Guide. "Actually it sounds kind of nice."

"It's crap," said Ford. He threw a turkey bone across the room and rang the garbage can. "Nothin' but net," he said triumphantly. Random glared at him. She didn't really understand Earth sports anyway.

"Hey look, a wishbone," Ford said, producing a piece of bone from the plate of turkey remains. "Each of us holds one end," he explained to Random, "and pulls. Whoever breaks off the largest piece gets a wish." At her raised eyebrow, he added, "Hey, I'm not the one who made it up, okay? I told you when we got here that Earth traditions are weird."

Random obligingly took one end of the rather disgusting bone and pulled. She was surprised to find that she had the larger piece.

"Knock yourself out," Ford said, getting up. Random followed him back into the living room of the apartment.

"Where are you going?" she asked him.

"The library. I need to use the Internet. See I saw this cartoon last night about this llama who knew the answers to all the questions in the Universe, and these three little weird-looking kids came and asked him what they said was the ultimate question. I'm going to look into the show. Their question might be what we're after."

"What was the question?"

"'Why do hot dogs come in packages of eight, but hot dog buns come in packages of six?'"

Random frowned. "Forty-two. Doesn't make sense."

Ford shrugged. "This is Earth remember? Nothing here does." He left, whistling an old Betelgeusian battle anthem, which he had never, in his life, had an occasion to actually use. Ford was leery of battles, and, in fact, any sort of fight other than the ones that generally broke out around him in bars. He was a notorious coward.

Random looked down at the bone in her hand and remembered that she still hadn't made her wish. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and thought, I wish this Christmas thing would help us find the Question. Something about it seems special, like it really does mean something. Maybe it has something to do with what we're looking for...

***

That day, Random went downtown and looked at all the Christmas decorations. She bought magazines with Christmas projects and looked at store displays. She even saw the fat man, or someone very much like him, at the mall, holding little kids on his lap. Weird.

She went to the library and found a very disgruntled Ford leaving.

"No luck on the show?" she asked

"None. It's just a kids' show. Doesn't mean a thing." He turned to her. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to look up some stuff," Random said hesitantly. She didn't want to approach Ford with the idea of actually celebrating Christmas until she knew everything she could about it. Luckily, he didn't question her.

"Okay. See you around." He walked off, mumbling to himself about cartoons misleading the public.

Random spent a long afternoon researching Christmas's origins, beliefs, and customs. It seemed that the Guide had given a rather jaded view of the holiday- or else all of Earth was so enchanted with the whole thing that it said nothing but good about it. At any rate, she knew everything imaginable about it.

On the way home, she rented It's A Wonderful Life, A Christmas Carol, and A Charlie Brown Christmas.

***

Saturday night, Random lay on her bed, thinking about everything she'd learned. It seemed that Christmas really *was* special, and that it might hold the key to finding the Question. And- more importantly- it seemed to be a time to become closer to your friends and family. Maybe she and Ford could finally begin to get along.

Finally she gathered up her nerve and went to find Ford. He was on balcony, looking up at the stars, with the Guide open in front of him. The first snow of the year had fallen the night before, and it was cold- she could see ice crystals forming in the air with every breath Ford took.

"What are you doing?" Random asked, coming to stand beside him.

"Thinking," he replied, looking a little embarassed. He looked at her and grinned a little unnervingly. "And hating this crummy planet."

"I don't think it's *that* bad a planet," Random retorted.

"Oh it's not at first. It's just that after being stuck here with no hope of escape for 15 years, having to be back to see it all again isn't any picnic." He looked back up at the sky again, a little wistfully. "And I wonder what everyone else is up to. I know that right now, in this time, I'm over in England somewhere, going around to bars with Arthur, and that Trillian hasn't even met him yet, and Zaphod's out in the sky somewhere, getting into trouble. But I don't think about that. I think of them all up there, waiting on us to come back with a Question for their Answer." Suddenly he looked at her again. "But you know what? I don't give a damn! Not about this planet, or the Question, or any of it. I don't want to be here! I want to be out *there*, traveling." He was silent a moment, then went on, more quietly. "Do you know what it's like to never really be happy? To spend all of your life wishing you were someone else?"

"Yes," said Random fiercely. "That's all I ever do." She turned towards him. "You think I *like* knowing that my mother hated me and my father didn't know what to think of me? And now, knowing that they're both dead? I spent ten whole years of my life in a day care center because my mother didn't care enough to come back and get me. And now, I don't even have her anymore! *You're* all I have left, Ford, and even you hate me!" Random hadn't even realized that she was yelling until she quit. So much for her big idea of trying to get along long enough to have Christmas.

"I never said I hated you, Random," Ford said quietly.

"Why wouldn't you?" she snapped, turning away from him. "I'm sure you wanted to get stuck with me just as much as you wanted to get stuck back on Earth. I know you have better things to do than drag around some other guy's brat." She walked back into the apartment, then stopped in the doorway. She might as well get on with it now, while they were already biting each other's heads off. "I was going to ask you something, though."

"What?" he said, expressionless.

"Do you believe in Christmas?"

Ford looked at her in surprise. It wasn't quite what he expected. He had been certain she was going to ask if he wished she were dead, or something else meant to spark sympathy. Instead, here she was asking philosophical questions. The girl never ceased to amaze him.

Ford thought about his answer a moment then replied, "No. I don't see how any one person, however great they are, can change things, or make things better for a whole planet. It doesn't seemed to have worked anyhow."

"Do you even believe in God?"

"I don't know."

Random was quiet a moment, then asked, "If you don't believe in Jesus's birth, why don't we just go back in Time to when it's supposed to have taken place? Then we can *watch* it. And you'll believe."

Ford walked over to her. "What reason do *you* have to believe?" he asked gently.

"I-" Random stopped. Why *did* she believe? "I guess," she replied thoughtfully, "because it seems to be a nice thing to believe in. After all... we all have to believe in something, don't we?"

Ford looked at her, then went back into the apartment without answering.

"Ford?" Random asked. "So can we go?"

He was silent, thinking. He didn't want to go- not back in Time to see something that never even happened. But for whatever reason, it seemed to mean a lot to Random. And she was obviously trying to get along with him. He was surprised to find that meant a lot to *him*.

"Sure," he said finally. "We can go tomorrow."

Random was surprised, but pleased. "See you in the morning then." She smiled at him cautiously.

He grinned back at her suddenly. "See you in the morning."

***

Random woke up the next morning to the sound of Ford swearing loudly in the next room. Pulling on her clothes, she followed the string of Betelguesian expletives to his bedroom.

"Good morning, sunshine," Random said sarcastically. Ford gave her a weird look then went on with his cussing and throwing things about. Random suddenly felt very stupid when she remembered that they didn't have sarcasm on Ford's planet.

"Belgium!" snapped Ford. Random turned a little pale. He must *really* be mad.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, side-stepping a pile of towels.

"I can't find the time travel thingie," he muttered. Oh great, thought Random.

"Did you look in your satchel?" she asked, rummaging through a stack of old newspapers lying on a table.

"Yes! I looked everywhere."

Rolling her eyes, Random went into the kitchen and started looking through cabinets. Whoever marries *him* is going to have her work cut out for her, Random thought as she moved a box of Cheerios aside. No time machine.

The problem with the time machine was that it was a bit unstable- maybe Slarty was getting absent-minded in his old age. It was supposed to be a small, hand-held device, similiar in size and shape to Ford's electronic Thumb. It was also endowed with a small amount of artificial intelligence- that is, it knew a whole lot about history, but practically nothing about anything else. You just told it what historical event (or, alternately, what year) you wanted to see, and specified which planet you were interested in. Then, with a push of a button, you were whisked off to the time of your choice.

At least, that was how it was *supposed* to work. The time machine, however, had ideas of its own.

In its small mind, it was convinced that it was really a chameleon, and so it changed shape, color, and sometimes size in order to blend in with its surroundings. How it was able to do this was something neither Ford nor Random had been able to figure out. Therefore, they tried to keep their jumping from time to time to a minimum, in order to avoid having to deal with an insane time machine.

"Any luck?" Ford called to Random.

"No!"

"Star pox!"

Suddenly Random had an inspiration. Being winter, the chameleon/time machine would, perhaps, be trying to hibernate somewhere. Random didn't know the first thing about lizards, but she assumed that they hibernated, and that the time machine would want to also. Logically, to enforce the idea of winter in the climate-controlled apartment, it would go to the coldest place. Random cast a critical eye on the refrigerator.

She opened the freezer door and peered inside. Ice cream, a few microwave dinners, and two lonely-looking ice cubes (the ice maker had been broken for weeks, but Ford kept "forgetting" to fix it) were all she saw. Then something at the back of the freezer caught her eye.

There was a whole, frozen chicken hunched behind the ice cream. Random knew that if they had had a chicken in the freezer, it would have been dinner long ago. Reaching into the freezer's icy cold depths, she grasped the chicken by a leg and pulled it out.

"Awright," she barked at it. "Snap out of it."

"Please," said the chicken in a distinctly mechanical voice, "I'm only an innocent chicken. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, well I got news for you, buddy. Dead chickens don't talk!"

The chicken was silent for a minute, then said, "Oops." It morphed back into its time machine form.

"Hey Ford, I found it!" Random yelled.

"Great," said Ford, coming into the room carrying his satchel.

"Do you really need that thing?" Random asked critically.

"Why tempt fate? One should always be prepared," answered Ford with a shrug.

Suddenly Random remembered something. "Wait a minute- I forgot something," she told him and ran off towards her room. She reappeared a moment later, apparently empty-handed. Ford had learned better than to question her, so he simply asked, "Ready?"

"Sure." She went over and put one hand on the time machine. "Please take us to the time and place of Jesus's birth on Earth," she told it.

"But I'm a chameleon! I can't take you any-"

"Just do it," growled Ford, feeling like one of those sports stars on the commercials for a brand of tennis shoes named after an ancient Earth goddess. And they call themselves religious, he thought moodily.

"Okay, okay," mumbled the time machine. The room shifted and blurred around them, and Random had the sensation of being picked up and thrown...

***

Ford looked around at their new location. It was cool, though not as chilly as the place they had just left. They seemed to be on the edge of a desert, for sand stretched away behind them to meet the horizon. In front of them, there lay, near the horizon, a small black spot that must have been a village. A few scraggly palm trees scattered here and there seemed to leave a trail towards the far away dot.

Suddenly Random drew in her breath and pointed at the sky. "Look," she breathed to Ford. "It's the star! It's true, it's all really true!"

Ford looked and saw a huge, bright star hovering over the small town. "It's just a star going nova," he told Random, but she only shook her head and started towards the village on the horizon.

"Come *on*," she pleaded.

With a sigh, Ford followed her. He couldn't just leave her there, but she obviously wasn't going to go back until she had investigated the town.

It took nearly an hour of struggling up and skidding down sand dunes, and Ford was in no good humor by the time they drew near the town. Random didn't seem tired at all, and she still hurried ahead of him. More palm trees marked the outskirts of the little village, then slowly were replaced by small houses. Once inside the village, Random looked repeatedly upward, trusting the star to guide them to the right place. Ford rolled his eyes.

There were no people about- probably in this desert land, a night like this would be considered cold. A few lights burned, but not many. It must be after midnight here, Ford thought.

Suddenly Random cried, "There it is!" and started running towards a small stable halfway hidden behind a larger building. The star appeared to be directly overhead. As they approached the stable, the sounds of donkeys and other animals became apparent, then, above the other noises, a low groan arose. Random attempted to open one of the huge, wooden doors but it was too heavy for her to manage alone. Obligingly, Ford helped her open it, and they peered inside.

Random first noticed the smell of animals and hay, then, as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she saw two people inside: a very young woman who was very obviously pregnant, and a man who was older, but not by much. The woman was the one crying out, apparently in pain. It must have been very near her time. Seeing them, Random knew in her heart that she and Ford had indeed found the right time and place. They were mere hours away from Jesus's birth.

Before Ford could stop her, Random slipped inside the stable, and he was forced to hurry in after her. The young man looked up in surprise as they entered, but the woman's eyes were shut in pain. "Who are you?" the man asked, sounding panicked.

"We're seeking shelter tonight," Random said, before Ford could reply. "We were told that all the inns were full and that if we wanted a place to stay, we'd have to make do with a stable. We didn't know there was anyone here."

"Do you want us to leave?" Ford asked quickly, hoping the answer would be yes.

"No, please don't." The man looked utterly exhausted. "But do you know anything about midwifery? My wife is about to give birth." He looked up at them, his eyes a silent plead for help.

"I can deliver a child," Random said, soothingly. At Ford's startled glance, she said in a low voice, "I learned *something* at that daycare center, at least."

She went over to the woman and knelt beside her. Now the lady's eyes opened. "Who- who are you?"

"My name's Random," she replied. "What's yours?"

"M-mary," the woman whispered, wincing with pain. "You have a- a strange name."

"I come from a strange place," Random said with a smile. She looked up at Mary's husband, who had to have been Joseph. "Are there any bowls or pans in here?"

"Yes," the man said quickly, apparently glad to have something to do.

"Can you get two and fill them both with water? One needs to be heated and the other left cold."

"All right." Joseph hurried off, and Random turned back to his wife.

"Don't worry," she told Mary. "It's going to be all right. I know it hurts now, and it's going to hurt worse, but once it's over, you won't regret it."

Mary smiled, thankfully, then winced again. Joseph returned with two bowls of water. Random handed one to Ford, and hissed, "Make yourself useful and heat this." A little miffed, he obeyed, warming the water over the small fire lit in the middle of the stable, in an area cleared of straw. Random rummaged through Ford's satchel and pulled out his towel, dipping it in the water. Ford's not going to like *that*, she thought, a little ruefully. She began bathing Mary's face and talking to her in a low voice.

Suddenly the young woman cried out again and whispered, "It's starting. I know it."

Random fought back the rush of nervousness she felt. She *had* been taught how to deliver babies at the daycare center, but those were Sagittarian children, whose mothers' anatomy was slightly different- the children were born through their mother's ear. Besides, Random had never actually delivered a child herself. But I have to do it, she thought. I *have* to. There's no one else to help this poor woman. Besides, this is God's son! I'm going to see history being made. I *want* to do it.

The hours that followed seemed to be a haze of fear and nervousness to Random. She didn't even remember very much about it- only that the birth took a very long time, and that all she could do for hours was to talk to Mary and tell her how to breathe and when to push.

Toward morning, Ford walked outside the stable. He wondered how much longer it would be until the child was born. He didn't want to be in there when it happened. He was surprised at Random. She was actually younger, by Earth standards, than the woman giving birth, yet here she was taking charge like she delivered babies every day. And in the midst of her using his towel to wash Mary's face, reminding the woman to breathe evenly, and reassuring Joseph, the look on Random's face was pure, unbridled *joy*. She *liked* doing this. And it was the first time he had ever seen her truly happy.

Inside, Mary was sleeping, exhausted, between pains. Joseph looked nearly dead with fatigue, and Random urged him to sleep. Despite his protests, he was asleep in an instant. Random wondered how much longer it could be. Ford had gone outside long ago, and Random had worried for an instant that he had left her here, then told herself that even he wouldn't do that to her. She remembered what he had told her once, that Time was like a jigsaw puzzle and that whatever would change it had already taken place. That meant that she *had* to succeed, otherwise Christmas never would have taken place. I have to remember that, thought Random.

Suddenly, Mary awoke with a look of terror on her face, and Random knew that finally the child was about to be born.

"Oh God," moaned Mary, tears mingling with the sweat on her pretty face. "I can't do it. I can't! I want to die, I want to die."

"You *can't* die," Random told her in a low, strong voice. "You're going to live, I know it. And your child is going to grow up and change the world. What you were told wasn't a lie; you really *are* carrying the Son of God. And when He is born, nothing will ever be the same. Over the years to come, millions of people will see you as a saint, and some few will see your face at a temple, or in the woods, and it will bring them hope. Everyone will love you."

Mary stared at her. "How- how did you know? About what the angel told me, about my child. We told no one, *no one*. Are you an angel?"

"You could say that," said Ford quietly from behind Random. She hadn't even heard him come back in.

Mary's face contorted in agony once again, and Random whispered, "Remember, you can do it. Just be strong." Sobbing, Mary pushed with all her might, and finally Random was able to see the child's head. Grasping the baby, she helped pull it forth into the world as Mary screamed. Joseph had awoken, and he watched, frightened, his heart in his eyes. And then Random held the Son of God in her blood-covered arms.

Then what had just taken place hit her full-force, and she began to cry, silently, as she washed the child in warm water. Then she handed Him to His mother, who, exhausted as she was, took Him in her arms.

Mary and Joseph's faces were radiant with joy and tears as they looked at their child in wonder. Then Joseph looked up at Random.

"How can we ever thank you?"

Random was quiet a moment. "Promise me something. Promise me that later, when things turn bad again, and it seems like the world is coming to an end, that you'll remember this moment, and know that someday you'll be happy again. It's *not* the end of the world. Not yet, anyway."

Suddenly she remembered, and she pulled the sprig of mistletoe, the plant people kissed under, out of her pocket. She was glad she had thought to bring it that morning.

"Where I come from, it's a tradition for people who love each other to kiss under this plant," she told Mary and Joseph. "It brings good luck."

She stood and held it over their heads, while Joseph gently kissed his wife. Sappy, thought Ford, but sweet. And somehow, it makes sense.

Random slowly walked to the stable doors and, reaching up, slid the mistletoe under a splinter of wood so it hung over the opening. "Maybe it *will* bring them luck," she said to Ford as they stood looking up at it. "I hope it will. They'll need it."

She looked back at Mary and Joseph. They had laid their baby in a manger to sleep, and Mary was already asleep on a bed of straw. Joseph, having already forgotten about Random and Ford, was watching his wife tenderly. "Look at them," Random said softly. "They're so much in love, and so *happy*." She suddenly felt very sad. "I don't think I'll ever be that way."

Ford remembered how radiant she had looked when the baby was born. "I think you will," he said. He cupped his hand under her chin, and tilted her head back so she was looking straight into his vivid blue eyes. "Someday. Someday you'll find someone you'll love more than anything else in the Universe, and he'll love you just as much. *Then* you'll be happy." He embraced her then, surprising her. We didn't find the Question, thought Random, but maybe we've finally found how to be friends. Suddenly Ford kissed her lightly on the lips and let her go. "For luck," he said.

Random followed him outside into the night, luminous from the bright star overhead. "We need to go out of the village before we use the time machine," Ford said over his should. "Just in case anyone's watching."

As they walked towards the desert, Random thought about Mary and Joseph, and how the next day the shepherds would come, then the three kings. And someday the birthday of Mary's child would be celebrated all over the world, in bizarre ways: trees would give their lives for a few short weeks of glory, people would spend all their money on other people for a change, fat men would don beards and red suits and take lists from little children. But Random knew that no matter who came or what happened, Mary would always remember the two "angels" who came to her that night and gave her the hope and the strength to endure what was to come. I need someone like that, Random thought to herself. Someone who loves me enough to help me to live. Then, watching Ford walking ahead of her in the sand, she suddenly thought that maybe, just maybe, she already had.

**THE END**