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The Cursed Earth lays in darkness while the sky above is alive. Stars, planets, satellites. A comet with a tail of feathery light. Not moving to the eyes of Joe and Cass but rushing through the sweet nothingness of space.
“The Christmas star”, Cass whispers.
“What?”
“It’s Christmas Eve tonight.”
“Is it?” Joe’s voice sounds harsh, uncaring. But by now Cass knows that beneath it curiosity is lingering.
“The origin of it was a long time ago. A baby born in a barn, to bring good into the world, deliver the people from the evil. My grandmother could still remember it, told me about it when I was a child.”
Cass speaks quietly. They are so small and meaningless in the vastness of the Cursed Earth. The vastness of time never stopping. But also, out here, on their own, they finally mean something to each other.
He observes Joe who is still staring into the night sky. A sadness is passing between them. They never had a traditional family. But Cass at least has borrowed memories.
“Three wise men followed a star that led them to the baby. Jovis. Jesus”, Cass continues.
Joe chuckles. “Ridiculous.” Shakes his head.
Cass wriggles closer. The night is cold but it’s his heart that longs for some warmth. Joe doesn’t move.
Their shoulders touch. Joe lets it happen.
Cass gets something small out of his jacket’s pocket. Holds the small fragile thing hidden in his hand while his heart starts to race.
“Joe.”
And Joe looks at him for the first time this evening. Looks into Cass’ eyes. Then down at his fist formed around the something in his hand.
The frosty clouds of their breaths mingle, that’s how close they are.
Joe is intrigued now. He thinks he can hide it but Cass knows the signs.
“What’ve you got?”
And Cass opens his hand.
There in his palm is the shape of a tiny crooked star. Brown and flat, and maybe the edges are a little too sharp here, a little too round there.
But he has made it himself. Cut from a splintered piece of wood. Found in the middle of death.
Joe examines the object with his eyes. Face without emotion.
“What’s it for?”, he finally asks. Because everything needs to serve a purpose for him.
“I made it for you.” The words are nearly inaudible. And despite the cold Cass’ hands start to sweat.
“What do I do with it?”
Cass’ heart sinks. He closes his fingers around the star, hides it from sight. “Nothing. You do nothing with it. It is just so.”
It was a stupid idea. Making a Christmas present for Judge Joseph Dredd. What was he thinking! The old tales of his grandmother must’ve gotten to him during the long marches through the Cursed Earth. Too much time to imagine things. Too much time for a heart to get involved.
His cheeks heat up with shame and embarrassment. He wants to stuff the star back into his pocket.
Calloused fingers wrap around his hand.
Cass looks up. There’s a hint of colour on Joe’s face. But perhaps that’s from the cold.
“Thank you”, Joe huffs. It comes out like a question. Like an apology. Cass smiles faintly. Relishes in the connection of their skin. Their fingers tangled, now that Joe tries to get to the star. And Joe surely takes his time, three seconds more than necessary. But three seconds are an eternity between them.
Joe inspects the star with his fingers. Then puts it in his jacket’s pocket above his heart where once his badge had its place.
Dirt and gravel crunch under his boots when he gets up. He doesn’t extend a hand to help Cass up. But he waits.
Together they make their way back to the corrugated iron hut that is their home now. The comet above them still shining.