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There's music pouring from well-concealed speakers in the Firehouse as Tyler arrives, and we do mean well-concealed. When a building's decorator corps includes a twenty-three-foot-tall transforming robot and a five-armed, five-eyed, five-brained alien from an arboreal species, the decorations get everywhere. The outside of the Firehouse is practically wrapped in strings of lights, and the inside- well. Someone introduced Jhalak to the concept of pine garland this year and she kind of went berserk with it. The tree in one corner is as sparkly as a north Jersey homeowner's attempt to get on the local news. Even the dinosaur skull hanging from the ceiling of the ground floor is decorated. Ecto's probably to blame for the dinosaur-sized Santa hat, though.

Which isn't to say that's the only holiday being marked here. Miss Eartha the golem has very firmly staked out part of the Firehouse's ground floor for Hanukkah, on the grounds that it was a Jewish ritual that got her into the golem body she now occupies and she feels a certain measure of gratitude for that. Janine's been helping her with that, and somewhat reluctantly Egon's been doing so as well. No sign of Kwanzaa on the premises, probably because Winston is as big of a Christmas man as you'll ever find, but someone tacked up several solar symbols and "Joyous Solstice!" messages. As a matter of fact, about the only sign that anyone here isn't celebrating something is the periodic snark of "Bah humbug!" from the fish tank on Janine's desk.

"Here we are, Tyler. How's that look to you?"

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"We'd better keep on movin'," Miss Eartha advises. "There's gonna be a whole lot of people heading for the outdoor markets behind the Library. And the free ice skating. What's our target now?"

That takes a little bit of thought now, Tyler following along next to Eartha, thinking and sniffing the air...

"...Real food?"

"How's Mexican sound?" says Miss Eartha. "Winston swears by this one guy who sells flautas in Bryant Park. Place's crowded, and you have to eat outdoors, but the food's good."

"Hokay!" Tyler grins, trotting to keep up with Eartha's steps. "....what's a flauta?"

"Well," says Miss Eartha, "you take some beef or maybe some chicken, spice 'em up, wrap 'em up in a long thin flour tortilla, and you fry it all until it's crisp. And then you serve it with queso blanco, or maybe green chili sauce, or both."

"Oooooh."

Okay, now that sounds REALLY good for his dinner right now.

"It's part of the market behind the Library," says Miss Eartha as she sets off down Fifth Avenue. "Right on the edge, though, so not like we have to push through a whole lot of crowd. Opposite side from the line for the skating rink, too."

"...the Library....oh, you mean the one that the guys found their first ghost at?"

"That's the one," confirms Miss Eartha. "New York Public Library, Forty-first and Fifth, lions and everything. Can't miss it."

"Never been there yet." But hey, that's a fieldtrip for another time.

Ray's probably going to find the kid with a stack of survival guides when he takes him there.

"Won't be able to say that for long," says Miss Eartha cheerfully. "Two blocks down, one block over."

On the way there, Tyler goes over the list of things for people who he wants to buy gifts for in the firehouse once more.

Eartha, Egon, Ecto, Jhalak, Ray and Winston...

Francis is a robotdog. Kind of hard to shop for really.

Eartha might like another dress, just for fun and pretty. Egon...dude. Egon, who the heck knows what that guy wants for the holidays. Ecto's a hard one too, after all he's not old enough or rich enough to help with her investments...

"Might want to have a look around the market while we're there," says Miss Eartha as they approach the steps and the garland-draped lions. "There's a whole lot of stuff for sale this time of year you don't find too easily the rest of the year. Mostly clothes'n household stuff from other countries, but you never know."

"Yeh...still stuck on what to get Egon and Ecto."

Jhalak, he has decided is going to get a very exotic fruit basket. Could probably find a good place to order later.

"...did I remember to bring my PKE meter?"

"Couldn't tell you, kiddo, but I could probably scare one up if I dug deep enough in my purse," says Miss Eartha amiably. She doesn't go up the stairs, but instead turns and heads west along 42nd. "Got anything in particular you need to check for?"

"Nothing, just sometimes you find weird things at cultural markets." And you know, after the maple syrup thing back at Godiva, he's thinking about what might pop up here.

"It's kind of like finding out your friend accidentally summons things when he gets really into music or movies."

"Gotcha," says Miss Eartha. "Tell you what, hon. Anything that gives me a weird vibe, I'll make sure and keep an extra close eye on it, and we'll have someone back at the Firehouse go over it first thing."

She pauses and points.

"But I'm thinkin' we go over there and talk to the nice man in the end booth first. Just buy two or three flautas to start with, so you know if you like 'em or not."

"Fooooooood."

Miss Eartha lets out a deep, rumbling laugh that clears several people out of her way without her even trying. The booth is manned by a man in his mid-sixties, an Andean woolen knit cap jammed down over his ears and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose; he takes Tyler's order in heavily accented English and sets to work immediately in what must surely be the tiniest kitchen imaginable that's still usable by a normal human.

It is tiny but it also is the most delicious smelling kitchen EVER right now because he can smell that beef and the tortilla and the cheese sauce and...

"Can I have the green chili sauce and guac too please, thank you!"

Other ten year olds might balk, but really... Tyler figures if it doesn't do horrible things to him, or has absolutely NO chance of giving him superpowers, it's fair game.

"Si. No problema," says the man, and it doesn't take long before two long, bubbly-crisp tortillas rolled about as thick as (for example) Miss Kyle's fingers, packed full of meat and sprinkled with white cheese are handed over. Oh, and the sauce is ladled over them, too, right before the man hands over a plastic cutlery packet and a container of guacamole.

Miss Eartha's just going to sit on a convenient concrete half-wall nearby. The chairs here aren't built for golems.

...Yeah, they're pretty much gone with the guacamole as soon as he sits down at the chair and table.

Tiniest human food vacuum time folks, which is pretty normal.

"Mhmmm..."

"Yeah, that looks about like Winston's reaction," says Miss Eartha with some amusement.

"Ok, those are SO worth the $2.50 I paid for em." Tyler says wiping his hands clean and picking up. He's sorely tempted to go back and get some more, but he's still got four people left to shop for.

"Might find something nice for Ecto or Jhalak here..."

"Sure thing, hon," says Miss Eartha. "Trash can's over there, then we can go look in the shops. Or you can, anyway. I'm gonna have to stand outside and look through the windows. They've got low roofs."