Holly was frustrated. So far this whole portal search had been a bust. And Holly hated failing at stuff. That was why she tried never to do it.
She dragged her feet as they followed the carolers down the block, where there was no sign of a portal. Just like the other places they’d checked—pretty much every Christmasy place in town. Well, every place except one big one . . .
“Look, guys.” Holly stopped on the corner of Eggnog and Spruce Streets and turned to face the others. “There’s one super Christmasy place we haven’t searched yet. Poinsettia Square.”
“The festival.” Chris glanced at the big clock on the town hall. “It’s supposed to be starting right around now.”
“And it’s probably the most Christmasy place in town,” Ivy agreed. “Let’s try it.”
Chris looked worried. “But our families will be there—and our teachers, and neighbors, and everybody else we know.” He shrugged. “How are we supposed to search with them all watching us?”
“Not to mention Mr. Brooks.” Ivy glanced at Peppermint Bark worriedly. “He might not be thrilled to see you-know-who again.”
Peppermint Bark wagged his tail. “You mean me, right?” he guessed. “Hey, but this festival place sounds really Christmasy! Just like the kind of spot where Santa likes to hide the portals!”
“See?” Holly said to Chris and Ivy, who both still looked worried. “It’s worth a look. Because otherwise, we’re kind of all out of ideas.”
* * *
Chris couldn’t stop thinking about how little time they had left to get Peppermint Bark home. And how hard it would be to sneak away from the festival once they got there. As in, impossible. Even if his parents didn’t stop them, Mr. Brooks or Ivy’s parents or some other well-meaning adult would insist the kids stay put.
Still, Holly was right—Poinsettia Square was definitely the most Christmasy place in town right now. “I guess it makes sense to check the festival,” Chris said at last.
“Totally,” Ivy agreed. “Like Hols says, it’s pretty much the only place we haven’t already looked.” She glanced at Holly. “Can I borrow your phone to text my parents and let them know I’m heading to the festival? They’re probably wondering where I am by now.”
After Ivy sent her text, the kids and Peppermint Bark all turned to walk toward the square, which was about two blocks away. The streets around them were deserted—Chris figured that almost everyone in town was already at the festival.
As they turned the corner onto Noel Street, Peppermint Bark looked worried, but then he wagged his tail. “It’s okay, I know you guys are trying your best,” he said. “If there’s no portal at this square place, I can just stay here with you until next Christmas.”
Chris’s heart jumped with hope. Peppermint Bark wanted to stay! It would be great—they could spend the whole year together. Peppermint Bark could sleep at the foot of his bed, and Chris could teach him to fetch a stick—or maybe a candy cane . . .
But Chris’s hopes came crashing back to earth when Holly shook her head. “Wish you could, Peppermint Bark,” she told the little dog. “But our dad’s allergic, remember? He and Mom are planning to take you to the animal shelter first thing in the morning.”
“Animal shelter?” Peppermint Bark tilted his head quizzically. “Is that like the stable where the reindeer sleep?”
“Not exactly,” Holly said, as she and Ivy traded a look.
Chris gulped. “It’s a nice place, though,” he said. “The people there take really good care of the animals until someone adopts them.”
“Yeah.” Ivy paused to pick up a piece of tinsel that had blown off a nearby house. “I went there once to help my neighbor pick out a cat. The cages are really big, with soft beds in them and everything.”
Peppermint Bark’s tail drooped. “C-cages?” he said uncertainly.
Chris glared at Ivy. Why did she have to mention cages?
Then his eyes widened as an idea popped into his head. If he couldn’t keep Peppermint Bark himself, maybe Ivy could be useful for once . . .
“You could take him!” Chris blurted out. He stopped short and turned to face the two girls. “Hey, Ivy, maybe Peppermint Bark could stay with you!”
“What? No!” Ivy said quickly. “I can’t adopt him. Anyway, we’ll probably find a portal at the festival.”
“But what if we don’t?” Chris put his hands on his hips. “He can’t live with us because of Dad’s allergies. But he could live with you! I bet your parents would say yes.”
Holly nodded eagerly. “That’s actually a good idea,” she said to her friend. “Your mom and dad are so nice, I bet they’d be okay with it.”
“No!” Ivy’s cheeks had already been pink from the cold, but now they went bright red. “I don’t want to.” She shot an apologetic look at Peppermint Bark. “Sorry,” she said softly, her words muffled as she tucked her chin into her scarf. “I—I mean, I just can’t.”
“But why not?” Holly looked perplexed. “You don’t have allergies, you’ve got plenty of room and a nice yard . . .”
“Because I’m afraid of dogs, okay?” Ivy yelled.
Chris’s jaw dropped. “You’re what?”
Ivy shrugged, ducking her head so her long hair fell forward to hide her face. “I’m afraid of dogs,” she said softly. “I always have been.”
Holly frowned. “How did I not know this? I thought we were best friends!”
“We are.” Ivy peered up through her hair. “I never told you because it never came up.” She looked at Peppermint Bark again. “Well, not until today, anyway. And I still didn’t say anything because I thought you’d think I was a wimp. I mean, you’re not afraid of anything.”
“Hmm.” Holly didn’t say anything else for a second. Chris could tell she was deciding whether to be mad or not.
Meanwhile Peppermint Bark stepped forward, gazing up at Ivy with his soft brown eyes. “It’s okay, Ivy,” he said. “I understand. And thank you for rescuing me at the Santa Station even though you were scared.”
“You’re welcome.” Ivy smiled slightly. “It wasn’t that bad, I guess. You’re kind of okay for a dog. Maybe it would even be sort of nice having you stay with me for the year, but it won’t work no matter what I think.” She glanced at Holly. “My mom’s cat hates all other animals, remember?”
“Oh, right. And most people, too,” Holly said with a grimace. “She scratches me every time I try to pet her.”
“Oh. Thanks anyway, Ivy.” Peppermint Bark wagged his tail, then sighed. “Anyway, I’m sure everything will be fine. Even if I can’t live with you guys, maybe a nice person will adopt me. Though of course I’ll miss Santa terribly. And Mrs. Claus. And Happy and the other elves, and of course the reindeer . . .”
Chris didn’t know what to say. Part of him still wished that Peppermint Bark could stay. But Chris could see how sad it made the little dog to think about being away from home for so long.
Just then the cold evening breeze turned, bringing a burst of music from the direction of the square, just a little more than a block away. The glow of lights was brighter as the sky grew darker, and Chris could see the top of the huge town Christmas tree above the buildings. The festival planning committee was in charge of stringing the giant fir with twinkling holiday lights, but all citizens and visitors were invited to hang their own ornaments to create a huge, cheerful hodgepodge of Christmas spirit.
It probably feels like that at the North Pole all the time, Chris realized. No wonder Peppermint Bark wants to get back there!
“Come on,” Chris told the others, stepping toward the square. “All this stuff won’t matter if we can find a portal, right? And what better place to hide one than at the Poinsettia Holiday Festival!”
Peppermint Bark brightened. “Right, Chris!” he barked. “Let’s go!”
* * *
“What time is it?” Ivy asked.
Holly gritted her teeth. “You just asked me that, like, ten seconds ago!” But she glanced at her
watch. “It’s five after eight.”
They were in Poinsettia Square, where the festival was in full swing. Up on the bandstand, the high school music director was waving his arms as an orchestra of musicians in Santa hats played a jaunty version of “Jingle Bells.” People were watching, and a few were dancing. Others were talking or eating or wandering around or adding their ornaments to the huge tree in the center of the square. The cold night air was laced with the tantalizing scents of roasting chestnuts and hot cocoa, tamales and panettone and borscht, savory dumplings with fragrant Indian spices, sweet and spongy bibingka from the Philippines, Tunisian marzipan balls flavored with rose water, and many other delicious Christmas treats from all over the world.
Holly glanced at her brother. Chris was holding Peppermint Bark’s leash again. “Smell anything?” Holly asked the little dog.
“Lots of things!” Peppermint Bark let his tongue loll out in a smile. “No portals yet, but I bet there’s one here somewhere.”
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t close before we find it,” Ivy said. “Hey, Peppermint Bark, do you know if all the portals here will close at midnight? Or could one stay open until the last time zone on Earth finishes Christmas?”
Peppermint Bark shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I never thought about it much before. As long as Santa knew how they worked, the rest of us didn’t pay that much attention to the details.”
“It’s okay,” Chris told him.
“No, it’s not.” Holly frowned. “We know some portals have already closed, so—” She cut herself off as she saw several familiar faces rushing their way.
“Hey, guys!” a girl from school named Rachel shrieked. “Merry Christmas!”
Hot on Rachel’s heels were several of Holly and Ivy’s other friends. The next few minutes passed in a flurry of hugs, followed by lots of excited chatter about Christmas gifts. Holly didn’t pay much attention, other than smiling as the other girls oohed and aahed over her birthstone necklace.
She was still distracted by their quest. Did they have only until midnight? If so, that didn’t give them much time . . .
Finally Rachel and the others moved on. Chris had been hanging back, playing invisible as he always seemed to do when Holly’s friends were around. But now he stepped forward.
“Let’s keep moving,” he said. “I was thinking we should check the Scrooge dunking booth next . . .”
There was no portal at the dunking booth. But the Oumas were there. Mr. Ouma hurled white tennis balls at the target, hoping to dunk Mayor Morris—who was dressed as Scrooge from A Christmas Carol—into a tank full of fake snow. Mrs. Ouma was nearby, chatting with Chris and Holly’s kindergarten teacher, who had retired a couple of years earlier.
“Oh, look!” Mrs. Kasabian called out in her quavering, singsong voice. “It’s two of my favorite former students!” Leaning on her walker, she hobbled closer, then peered at Ivy through her thick glasses. “And who have we here?”
Holly forced a smile. Mrs. Kasabian was one of the friendliest people in town. She could talk all day, telling stories and asking question after question. That had made her a great kindergarten teacher, but it also meant that running into her could take up a lot of time—time they didn’t have right now.
“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Kasabian,” Chris said. “This is, um, our friend Ivy. She moved here last summer.”
Holly glanced at her brother in surprise. Had he really just called Ivy a friend? Last Holly had heard, the two of them couldn’t stand each other. Then again, a friendship between those two wouldn’t even come close to being the strangest thing that had happened today . . .
“Lovely to meet you, Ivy.” Mrs. Kasabian smiled. “So this is your first Christmas in Poinsettia, eh?”
“That’s right,” Ivy said in her usual polite way. “It’s really fun! Everyone has so much Christmas spirit.”
“Yes, they do!” Peppermint Bark barked. “It’s great!”
Mrs. Kasabian blinked at the little dog. “Oh, how cute are you?” she said, bending down carefully to scratch Peppermint Bark on the head. “And look at your festive leash and collar—you’re dressed for the season, too!” She chuckled. “When I was a girl, I had a lovely tabby cat who let me dress him up for Halloween . . .”
When the old lady finished the story about her cat, Holly smiled. She’d heard the story before, and it was actually one of her favorites. But her smile faded as she remembered that Peppermint Bark was counting on them. How could they escape without hurting Mrs. Kasabian’s feelings?
Just then there was laughter from the dunk tank. Mr. Ouma’s latest throw had finally sent Mayor Morris tumbling into the tank!
“Great shot, honey!” Mrs. Ouma called out.
The mayor climbed back onto his platform, sputtering and wiping fake snow out of his eyes, but smiling. “More like a lucky shot,” he called.
“Oh yeah?” Mr. Ouma grinned, reaching for another “snowball.” “We’ll see about that, my friend . . .”
Suddenly Holly had an idea. “No, wait!” she called, hurrying over. “Mrs. K wants to try.”
“What?” Mrs. Kasabian laughed. “Oh no, I don’t think I’d be very good at that!”
“Sure you would.” Holly pressed a ball into the old woman’s hand. “You used to play softball when you were young—you told us about it lots of times. Besides, aren’t you the one who always said the only way to lose is not to try?”
The old teacher’s eyes brightened. “Well, I suppose you’re right on both counts, Holly.” Mrs. Kasabian patted her on the arm. “It’s nice to know someone was listening to all those stories of mine . . .”
“Of course we were!” Chris exclaimed. “Your stories are great. And I bet you can dunk the mayor again, too!”
Mr. Ouma nodded. “If you do, I’ll buy you a cocoa,” he said. He winked at his wife and the other spectators. “Maybe I’ll even buy one for Mayor Morris!”
“Well now, how could I say no to that?” Mrs. Kasabian said. “All right, here goes nothing . . .”
As the old woman stepped forward, Holly bent to whisper to Peppermint Bark. “Okay, I saw what happened earlier when you wagged your tail at Mr. Brooks and made him go nice all of a sudden. So I know you have, like, North Pole magic or whatever. Can you do anything to help here?”
Peppermint Bark wagged his tail. “I think so . . .”
He trotted forward, stopping right next to Mrs. Kasabian’s walker. As she tossed the snowball, he wagged his tail again, and the sound of jingle bells floated through the air, blending with the music from the bandstand. The adults didn’t seem to hear it, but the snowball sped up and hit the target hard enough to send Mayor Morris back into the tank of snow!
“Awesome!” Holly cheered, as Chris let out a whoop and Ivy pumped her fist. Peppermint Bark wagged his tail and jumped around, celebrating with the humans.
Mr. Ouma extended an arm to Mrs. Kasabian. “A deal is a deal,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get that cocoa now, shall we?”
Mrs. Ouma chuckled as the older woman took Mr. Ouma’s arm. “Would you kids like to join us?” Mrs. Ouma asked. “We still owe you a cocoa from all the work this morning.”
“Thanks—maybe later,” Holly said before Ivy could speak up and accept. “We’re supposed to meet our parents now.”
“Yes, but thanks,” Chris said. “And good throw, Mrs. K.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ivy added, smiling at the old woman. “Merry Christmas.”
Holly led the way as the three kids hurried off, followed by Peppermint Bark. As soon as the adults were out of sight, the kids stopped.
“She seems nice,” Ivy said, glancing back toward the dunking booth.
“She’s great, but this is getting crazy,” Holly said with a sigh. “Usually I love running into everyone in town at the festival. But maybe we should have looked around a little more before we came here. I mean, how are we supposed to search with everybody we know all over us?”
Chris shr
ugged. “We have to stay focused,” he said. “Maybe next we should—”
“There you are!” a familiar voice cried out. Very familiar.
Holly smiled weakly and turned toward her parents, who were strolling toward the kids hand in hand. Dad wore the same clothes he’d had on that morning, but Mom had changed into nice slacks and a bright red coat.
Dad’s eyes lighted up when he spotted Peppermint Bark—or rather, his leash and collar. “Aha!” Dad cried. “I called your mother to ask her to bring my new tie and that belt, but she couldn’t find either one.”
“Yeah.” Mom nudged him with her shoulder. “And your father accused me of having a blind spot when it comes to fashion. See? It wasn’t my fault, Kenny!”
They both chuckled. Holly could tell they were in a good mood. And no wonder—it was Christmas! She sighed, for a second wishing she could forget about this whole quest and focus on having fun on her favorite holiday . . .
“Did you eat dinner yet, kids?” Dad smiled and patted his stomach. “Let’s hit up Blitzen’s Bar-B-Q—my treat. Ivy, you’ll join us, right?”
“Thanks, Mr. Kerstman,” Ivy said politely. “I am a little hungry.”
Holly could see that Chris looked impatient. He tried to say that he wasn’t hungry. But Mom and Dad were already heading toward the line of food trucks parked along the edge of the square. The kids had little choice but to follow.
“Thanks a lot, Ivy,” Chris muttered. “Why’d you have to say you were hungry?”
“Drop it, Chris,” Holly said, keeping her voice low so their parents wouldn’t hear. “It’s not like Mom and Dad were going to let us skip—” She cut herself off with a gasp. “Hey, did you guys see that?”
“See what?” Chris was still glaring at Ivy.
“It was those elves!” Holly’s heart pounded as she pointed into the crowd. “Right there—see? They’re running toward the floats and stuff!”
“You sound like me, Hols,” Ivy said with a smile. “Seeing elves everywhere.”
“No, I’m serious!” Holly protested. “Didn’t you see them?” She glanced at the others, but they all shook their heads, including Peppermint Bark.
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