The Phoenix Alternative: Addendum

Clark struggled out of the cab, clutching his gifts to his chest as the winter storm whipped his coat around, enticing it to follow the snowflakes on a dervish around the grounds.

"You okay there, buddy?" asked the cabbie.

"Oh, yes, thank you, sir." Clark slipped on a patch of ice then corrected his stance moments before he flew forward against the cab. "I'm fine, I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"Mr. Kent!" The school's massive front doors creaked open and Ororo Munroe, perfectly poised as always, rushed out into the storm to his side. "You should have told us you were coming. I would have gotten someone to pick you up."

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you, Ms. Munroe."

"It's no inconvenience," said Ororo. "The children love it when you come over. Can I help you with anything?"

"I have a few Christmas presents here but I can carry-- oh, no, please don't bother to-- I can do it."

Ororo ignored his protestations. With half a dozen of the bags swinging from her hands, she said, "Just pay the cab, Mr. Kent. I'll have some of the older kids come out to help."

"That's awfully kind of you, Ms. Munroe."

The interior of the school was, inevitably, much warmer than the outside and Clark, inevitably, bumped into everyone who crossed his path, something that provided much distress when he happened to bump into a child with bones sticking out of her body.

"We keep the Christmas tree in the atrium," Ororo was saying as she led him through. "Originally, it was in the rec room but there are so many children now, we needed more space for the presents." She flashed a smile. "It makes for a great Christmas photo-op, too."

"I'll have Jimmy down here ASAP," said Clark. "Honestly, Ms. Munroe, the whole house is so beautiful. Jimmy could easily go through a thousand pictures here."

Pushing through double French doors smothered in pine boughs, Ororo said, "Here we are. Sorry for the mess. We're not exactly ready yet."

The tree in the middle of the glass-walled room was easily fifteen feet high, thick with needles, and hung with whimsical little ornaments. Swarovski crystal pendants swung beside salt-dough animals, antique teddy bears beside halogen lights, all draped with tinsel and bright red beads. At the top, a winged man balanced on top of a ladder, a young sun god with a star in his hands. In contrast, seven teenagers crowded around the base, sorting presents and making enough noise for three times their number as they tried to guess the contents of the brightly wrapped gifts.

"My goodness," Clark gasped.

Ororo laughed. "You should see us on Hallowe'en."

"My goodness," repeated Clark.

"Just give those to Jones. He's in charge of presents. I expect you'll be visiting Jean and Scott?"

Clark nodded, handing the bags over to a lanky teenager in glasses. "Yes, of course."

"Then I expect you'll stay for dinner."

"I-I-I couldn't impose--"

"We've said it again and again, Mr. Kent: It's never an imposition when you come." She smiled, this time tinged with sadness. "Come back as soon as you're done. We'll have a pot of coffee ready for you."

"Thank you."

The memorial gardens behind Xavier's school was kept perpetually clear, even in the middle of an unusually frosty winter. Clark would have suspected Ms. Munroe's handiwork if he hadn't seen children clearing the area on several occasions. His boots crunched on the icy crust as he walked down the path to the oval. Three small granite cenotaphs, their X's frosted with snow, waited for him.

He stopped in front of the one on the far left.

"Hello, Ms. Grey." Clark crouched at the foot of the monument. Pressing his hand against the X, he took a shaky breath. "Merry Christmas, ma'am. It's an even numbered year so Scott's with Richard's family for the holidays. He sends his love.

"Jason's really grown this year. You should see them together, ma'am. I don't think Scott's been happier than when he's with Jason. Of course, I could be a little biased." He smiled. "Amanda Jean's doing well, too. She hasn't manifested any powers but then, she's only three. If Scott's a slave to Jason, then Jean's got him positively wrapped around his pinky. She cries and she's got a new toy faster than you can say FAO Schwartz.

"But I think you know that. I promised Scott that tonight's your treat. I've brought caramel macchiatos, Joss Stone, and Bill Bryson in his place."

Placing sliding the mp3 player at its highest volume, Clark opened the illustrated version of "A Short History of Nearly Everything" and began reading. He stayed there until the winter sun set, staining the sky like a phoenix rising from the ashes.