"I celebrated Thanksgiving the old-fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land." — Jon Stewart

Date:
October 9th, 2017 (CAN)
November 23rd, 2017 (USA)

Occasion: Thanksgiving

Countries: United States, Canada

Hint: Read the first letter of each paragraph downwards.

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XXXIV | Cold Turkey

Hundreds of bright green peas hit the kitchen floor and scattered, as though they were repelled from each other. Jenny heaved a sigh and bent down, gathering them up in her cupped hands. It was the second time she'd spilled a food in the past hour. No one had warned her that cooking a Thanksgiving dinner would be so hard, and certainly no one had told her that peas were so rebellious, those stupid, round bastards. Her brother, Corbyn, who was slicing carrots with gusto, clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip to contain a snicker. "You alright there?"

"Awesome. Wonderful. Fabulous," Jenny retorted, straightening up after picking up the last of the peas. She exchanged a devious smirk with Corbyn and glanced back at their mother, who was deep in a phone conversation, a glass of red wine in hand. Jenny dumped the peas in a nearby bowl and quickly rinsed them, before darting to the fridge and nicking a bottle of vodka. When she sped back to the kitchen, Corbyn had two glasses waiting on the counter. Jenny unscrewed the bottle lid and clumsily poured the alcohol into both glasses until they were filled to the brim.

Placing the lid back on the bottle and screwing it shut, Jenny stashed it back in the fridge. "Do you think she's going to notice?" Corbyn asked, taking a sip of the alcohol. Jenny inspected her own glass from various angles before shaking her head. The drink looked identical to water, and even if their parents did guess the truth, they'd probably let their kids off, since it was Thanksgiving. They'd be too busy talking about how thankful they are for Jenny and Corbyn, even though the twins had caused them nothing but trouble for the past eighteen years.

"Pretend you filled your glass with tap water," Jenny instructed Corbyn, returning to her peas. The latter flicked the tap on, brought his glass near the water, before flicking the tap off, just as their mother appeared in the kitchen, cheeks dusted with a hint of red from her wine. Though she had alcohol in her system, her eyes flickered suspiciously from Jenny to Corbyn and back again. The twins both held her eye contact with casual grace, having been under her scrutiny many times before. Even if their mom did realize they were illegally drinking, she ended up not saying anything about it.

"You two should get a move on with those peas," their mother commented, brushing past them to gather ingredients for her pumpkin pie. Corbyn and Jenny simply exchanged another look and took a sip from their glasses at the same time. Once the sugar and flour were lined neatly on the counter, their mom began the search for the pumpkin puree, opening doors here and there. She'd been searching for almost two minutes before stopping short, turning to Corbyn with an outstretched palm. The latter raised an impressed eyebrow, before revealing the pumpkin puree can he was hiding behind his back, and dropped it in her hand. "Corbyn, go do something useful and turn on the TV," sighed their mother, too familiar with their antics to tell them off.

To her surprise, Corbyn spun on his heel and strolled over to the living room. He fiddled with the remote for a second, before a roar ripped through the house, causing both his mom and Jenny to jump, and the latter to spill the peas again. "What the fuck was that?" Jenny shouted, and before her mom could reprimand her for her language, she marched into the living room to see Jurassic Park blaring on the TV. She stopped short, the indignation draining out of her. Corbyn grinned, knowing Jenny was a sucker for that film. They were ready to flop down and enjoy the movie, when the remote was suddenly snatched out of Corbyn's hand.

"Hold on, did you really think I'm going to let you watch Jurassic Park on Thanksgiving?" their mother scoffed, the remote dangling from her grasp. She pressed another button and the screen flickered to an event with thousands of people crowding the street, gigantic floats carrying performers down the road. A giant Hello Kitty balloon bobbed in the background, though how that was related to Thanksgiving, no one was sure. When the twins saw the parade, they groaned in unison. It was the same deal each year, the Macy's Thanksgiving parade. The twins had been there in person once, and though it gave them a golden opportunity to pickpocket the distracted crowd, watching it every year for a decade meant they'd lost interest in the event.

"Another parade?" Jenny rolled her eyes dramatically. "Do these people ever get bored of marching down the street in those weird costumes?" She noticed her mom opening her mouth to retaliate, but cut her off. "I know, mom, it's tradition or whatever, but for the love of god, what does a Spongebob balloon have to do with Thanksgiving?" While she was speaking, her father had come downstairs to check on the turkey. He poked his head into the living room upon hearing Jenny complaining.

"Not that I want to get caught up in this discussion, but Spongebob is just as much of a tradition as Thanksgiving is," he remarked, though the twins scoffed. "Right, so, I'm heading out to buy some table decor for tonight. Kids, start preparing the mashed potatoes." Before the twins could protest about how they were no longer kids, he spoke over them. "Also, make sure to check on the turkey after thirty minutes, alright? It's dry enough as it is, we sure as hell don't need to burn it."

Kissing his wife on the cheek and patting the twins on their shoulders, their father headed out the door, which was pushed gently shut by the fall breeze. Corbyn and Jenny got to their feet with a rare eagerness, both wanting to avoid the Thanksgiving parade at all costs, and began washing and peeling the potatoes with surprising efficiency. Once they dumped the potatoes in a pot and left them to boil, they leaned against the counter in silence. Just as they were growing bored, Corbyn was struck with an idea. A stupid idea, but an idea nonetheless. He grabbed a knife from the rack beside him and directed it towards Jenny. "Fight me."

"So, you're challenging me to a dangerous fight with sharp objects, just for an ego boost?" Jenny asked. When Corbyn kept the knife lifted as an answer, a grin spread across her face. "I love it. You're going down." With that, she snatched her own knife from the rack and they sprang into battle, the clash of metal echoing through the kitchen. Though Corbyn was winning at first, Jenny soon gained the upper hand. She managed to knock his knife out of his grip, which clattered onto the floor. Corbyn raised his arms in surrender as Jenny let out a whoop and danced around the kitchen, though her celebrations were soon cut short by a throat being cleared.

"Good grief, you two have hit a new level of recklessness," their mother spoke coldly from the kitchen doorway. She marched over to Jenny and grabbed the knife out of her hand, and picking up the one on the flood. The twins began to protest that they were just imitating the battles between Native Americans and Europeans, but their mom held a hand up to stop them. She gestured towards the kitchen table. The twins took a seat with Jenny looking defiant, and Corbyn slightly ashamed. Their mother sat down with them, before beginning to explain. "Do either of you know about the history of Thanksgiving?" She took their silence as a no. "Well, Thanksgiving is a result of the Native Americans and Europeans getting along, contrary to your dangerous knife fight."

"I remember this now," Corbyn interrupted. His mother and Jenny stared at him in surprise, while his cheeks flushed scarlet. "How do you think I made it to graduation? History was the only class where I had a couple of As." Jenny scrunched up her face in disbelief, and Corbyn stuck his tongue out at her. "Right, so, some colonists from Europe traveled to North America. They were plagued with scurvy and stuff, but when they got there, they met a Native American dude, Squanto, who taught them how to grow crops and not die. After the Pilgrims had their first successful corn harvest, Governor William Bradford invited a bunch of Native Americans to a celebratory feast in 1621. It was turned into a national holiday called Thanksgiving after two centuries."

"Very good, Corbyn!" Jenny and her mother exclaimed in unison, though Jenny spoke in a tone dripping with sarcasm, whereas her mom was genuinely impressed. A thought struck Jenny afterward, prompting her to ask who her mom was on the phone with. "Oh, that was just Carol," her mom replied casually. "I asked her what her family did for Thanksgiving. They celebrated it last month, since they live in Canada. The harvest season comes earlier in Canada than the States, because they're up north, so they get their Thanksgiving earlier than we do. Ours is so close to–"

In an instant, the three of them were on their feet when they heard a crackle from the kitchen. Corbyn and Jenny exchanged alarmed looks, realising they forgot to check on the turkey. They all sprinted to the oven. Orange flames flickered within, but it seemed to only be the turkey that was on fire. Corbyn pulled on a pair of oven mitts and quickly took out the turkey, while Jenny smothered it with a huge lid made of metal. Somehow, it worked. The turkey made it out alive with a slight char, the oven remained intact after their mother turned it off, and the smoke alarm hadn't been triggered yet.

Not a second later, their father walked through the door, dumping three plastic bags on the floor. "I nearly bought out the entire store," he announced, wiping sweat from his forehead. "It was madness in there, everyone wanted to get their hands on the turkey tablecloths." As he straightened up, his face shifted to confusion. He sniffed the air, noticing the burnt smell that was diffusing across the room. Then, he saw the turkey sitting on the counter and rushed over to inspect it. Turning around, he met the guilty expressions of the twins, but just sighed. "Well, I can't say I didn't expect you two to burn something. If you keep the mashed potatoes and casserole intact, you're off the hook."

Grabbing a turkey-patterned tablecloth, Jenny spread it over the table and arranged a flower bouquet to act as a centerpiece. Corbyn took the boiled potatoes off the stove and mashed them, adding seasoning to taste. Their father prepared the turkey as best he could, and their mother finished off her pumpkin pie. When they were finished, at last, the final rays of sun had vanished. Jenny drew the curtains and took a seat, mouth watering as the family spread the food across the table. The others also sat down. It took much self-restraint for the twins to hold back from devouring the whole table.

"Damn, look at that turkey," Corbyn marveled at the deep golden char. No outsider would be able to tell that it was on fire an hour ago. "To be honest, I'm thankful for this turkey. I'm thankful that we let it set on fire. I'm glad we get a hot turkey for Thanksgiving. No cold turkeys on our watch." Jenny expressed her agreement with an enthusiastic nod, while their parents let out hearty chuckles. Corbyn glanced to his left, where his sister sat, and addressed her expectantly. "So? What are you grateful for? The sooner you come up something sappy, the sooner we can get to the food."

"Alright, alright," Jenny sighed, but she did think hard about what she was grateful for. Not much had happened that year, apart from surviving math with a C average and managing to graduate, but as much as she disliked to admit it, Corbyn had been there every step of the way. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm grateful for my brother," she mumbled, cheeks flaring defiantly. Corbyn quirked an eyebrow at this, since Jenny wasn't much of a sentimental person, but he was touched nonetheless. "He's my partner in crime, and I wouldn't be the delinquent I am today without him. I'm only saying this so we can get to the food," she added quickly.

"You really are two peas in a pod," their mother cooed. "Well, your father and I are grateful for you two," she continued, though her husband was more distracted by the turkey. "We're so proud that you both graduated. I say this a lot, but I mean it. You are the best things that happened to us. Now, dig in. I'm starving." And as the night stretched on, the family revelled in their charred turkey and knife fights. We take so many things for granted, from the gift of education, to roof over our heads, to the food that we eat, to our beating hearts which feel emotion so strongly. The best way to show thanks for these gifts is to live life to the fullest extent, to travel and take risks, to stay humble and kind, and above all, thankful.