“This is just the beginning, Scarlett. Remember, you must earn your wings. Your wings will grow with each successful mission, so put your heart and soul into the job.”
I touched the tender nubs. “I hope this doesn’t make me look hunchbacked. And can I have a different color? Maybe peacock blue? White clashes with my coloring.”
He pulled a yellow parchment from the folder. “Pay attention, Scarlett. Here are the details of your mission.” From his desk drawer, he withdrew a pair of spectacles and slipped them over his nose. “As you know, the Christmas season is upon us, and everyone is hurrying to prepare for the big day. On Earth, just as it is in Heaven, it’s a time of joy and celebration. Parties and parades in every town, in every country. It’s a busy season for guardian angels. The workload is heavy and laborious. The percentages of accidents spike during the rush. In one town, a group of teenagers playing with a talking board has created an unpleasant situation.”
“A talking board, sir?”
He peered at me over his spectacles. “I assume you dabbled with the toy in your youth?”
I thought back over my childhood pursuits, realizing with a sinking heart I’d never had a gang of friends to hang around with and get into trouble. When you hail from the rich side of town, my peers leaned more toward golf and tennis. Oh, we got in trouble all right, but our kind of trouble was more of the sophisticated type. Like stealing liquor from the country club and pouring it into the ponds and lakes on the golf course. Or smearing crazy glue on the golf cart seats before a tournament. Or spiking the punch at the senior residents’ luncheon.
“I seemed to have missed that one, sir.” I shrugged. “But since you’ve mentioned it, I’m curious to know more.”
“The talking board is a neutral device,” he continued. “A harmless toy when used properly. However, it can open a doorway, and all kinds of spirits use the door to travel back and forth between dimensions. They wreak havoc on the poor humans who unleash evil spirits. Such an occurrence happened in your hometown.”
Concerned, I sat up straighter in the chair. “Again? So soon after Jolene and I sent Lilith, the Queen of Hell, back to the Abyss? I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” he said. “A group of teenagers opened the portal. I need you to round up Krampus and his gang of poltergeists and return them to their dimension. Then close the portal and seal it with my emblem.” He handed me a heavy silver notary seal. “This will guarantee a tight fit.”
“I’m not familiar with Krampus. What kind of spirit am I up against? On the same level as Lilith?”
Saint Peter tweaked the ends of his full handlebar mustache. “Not to worry, Scarlett. Krampus is beneath Lilith’s demonic class. No, Krampus is a Christmas demon born out of ancient Alpine folklore. He’s a practical joker with a mean streak and delusions he’s Saint Nick’s enforcer. He loves to scare children and make them cry.”
“You’ve got to be kidding?” I made a snorting sound of disbelief. “Santa’s in on the gig? Unbelievable. I always suspected something was up with the big guy in the red suit. Am I supposed to nab him too?”
“Santa is not your concern. Krampus and his gang are. Concentrate on your job, Scarlett. I need this done by Christmas Eve.”
“In three days?” I laughed aloud. “You’re giving me three days to find this demon, stuff him and his sidekicks back inside their own dimension, and close the portal? Which I don’t know how to do, thank you very much.”
“Three days is plenty of time to complete the job, Scarlett.” He pressed a button on his phone. “Yes, sir,” Cooper’s voice echoed over the intercom.
“We’re almost finished here. Bring in the package,” Saint Peter instructed.
“Yes, sir,” Cooper echoed back.
Saint Peter closed the folder and clasped his hands together on the desktop. “Do you have questions before you leave, Scarlett? Once dispatched, Heaven is off limits until you’ve completed your mission.”
I let the information sink in. Abandoned on my first mission. Whatever happened to the policy of no man left behind? But I reminded myself, wasn’t I one of the chosen? The Marines of the Universe? I could do this. I would do this. Short work for a Southern girl. In a snap, I’d return the conquering heroine.
Heaven would cheer my return.
Confident in my ability to get the job done, I squared my shoulders. “Well, sir, I would like a general description of my target.”
Saint Peter pressed a button on his remote. The large TV screen on the wall displayed a half-goat, half-demon figure. Yikes. Cloven hooves. A pointed tongue. And fangs.
Jeepers. Ugly dude. My confidence suffered a minor setback.
A knock sounded at the door. “Enter,” Saint Peter commanded.
I glanced from the screen as Cooper shuffled in the office with a white garment slung over his arm. In his other hand was a coiled whip. A heavy, white leather bullwhip. Strange. I hoped this wasn’t a sign of things to come.
“Thank you, Cooper,” Saint Peter said when his assistant laid the items on the desktop. I recognized the garment to be a pair of white leather chaps. Weird. Kind of kinky. I prayed they were a Christmas gift for someone on Saint Peter’s list and not meant for me.
I don’t do chaps and whips. Ever. I do have standards.
“Skywalker has arrived,” Cooper advised his boss. “He’s waiting out front.”
I didn’t question the name. A diverse community populated Heaven. I waited in silence, eager for Saint Peter to explain. I didn’t have long to wait. He dismissed Cooper, then snapped his fingers, and I looked down at my new apparel. Geez. Western-styled clothing. Jeans, shirt, belt, and boots. A woman’s cowboy hat with a shimmering gold hatband sat low over my burnished curls.
White. Everything. Jeans. Shirt. Boots. Belt and hat. Everything. Yikes! Ridiculous.
I pointed to the chaps and whip. “For me?”
He nodded. “Part of your commissioned equipment.” He snapped his fingers, and the chaps became a part of my ensemble. The bullwhip appeared in my hand.
“I look absurd,” I stated with certainty. “What’s the deal? Is Indiana Jones joining me on this quest?”
“Council approved. All necessary.” Saint Peter rose. “Now if you’ll follow me I’ll introduce you to Skywalker.”
“I thought this was a solo mission.”
“It is.” He opened his office door. “Come along, Scarlett, don’t dawdle.”
My white snakeskin boot heels click-clacked on the polished hardwood floor as I trailed behind him out of his office and into the hallway. With each step closer to the front door I prayed I wouldn’t run into any of my departed family and friends out for an afternoon of gift shopping. The only paraphernalia missing for this get-up was a pair of silver spurs and a horse.
Hazell popped into my mind, and I hoped he wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity. Embarrassment covered my cheeks with heat at the thought of him seeing me in this silly costume.
At the front door, Saint Peter paused with his hand on the knob “Take good care of Skywalker. He’s a valuable asset. The best in the equine unit.” The door swung open, and he stepped aside. A dazzling white horse waited on the front lawn. Geez.
“Why can’t I take the Cosmic Express?” I asked him with a wry smile. “Isn’t the get-up enough? Why do I need a horse?”
“Skywalker has skills,” was his answer. “Now be on your way.”
No time to argue, so I allowed Cooper to help me mount the prancing horse. “How do I find this Krampus fellow?” I secured the whip to the side of the western saddle and then gathered the reins in both hands.
“Just give him his head,” Saint Peter said from the front porch. “He knows the way.”
In the distance, I heard the train whistle blast a deep-throated whistle. The first of three warnings for all heavenly ambassadors of the locomotive’s imminent departure to Earth and beyond.
Saint Peter waved from the front porch. “Godspeed, Scarlett.”
&nbs
p; Cooper stood by the opened gate.
I waved goodbye and clicked my heels against Skywalker’s side. With a blast of thundering hooves, he shot down the drive and out the gate and onto the golden avenue. I held tight to the silver pommel as he unfolded his massive wings, and we shot off into the wide blue yonder.
Chapter Three
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Skywalker lived up to his name. With a mighty stride, the horse thundered past fluffy white clouds, and soon we sped away from Heaven’s golden light and into the star-spangled night of space. Faster, we streamed past planets and suns until we streaked through the Milky Way and made a banked turn past Saturn and Jupiter. In the distance, the blue marble-sized Earth came into view, and I clung on for dear life as Skywalker adjusted his gait to accommodate the changing atmosphere. Around the moon, we bounced until we skirted just off the left side of the International Space Station and plunged into Earth’s atmosphere. Downward we flew, and I became one with the horse. Skywalker settled into a steady gallop and circled the globe until the outline of the United States came into view. By the time we reached the Georgia state line, he’d relaxed into a smooth trot.
Darkness had fallen across the farms and pasturelands when we reached the outskirts of Whiskey Creek. Saint Peter had said Skywalker knew our final destination, so I eased back in the saddle and let him have his head. Familiar country sounds echoed through the brisk air. Mooing dairy cows from Mr. Darby’s farm, pig grunts from Billy Ray Boone’s pig farm, and clucking chickens from Mayor Kent’s egg farm.
At the crossroads coming up on the left, there was Annie Mae and Harland Tucker’s peanut farm. I thought of Jolene’s parents and wondered how they were getting along with Jolene now married to the sexy police chief and living in Wyoming. I’d stop in and check on them as a favor to my best gal pal. Minutes later when we reached the crossroads, Skywalker took a left, and I wondered if the horse could hear my thoughts.
A handy skill to have if I ran into trouble with Krampus and the gang.
Warm, yellow light spilled from the farmhouse kitchen, and in the living room, a huge Christmas tree lit up the double-plated window with splashes of multi-colored lights. Good, they were awake. I pulled Skywalker to a stop by the back kitchen door and slid from the saddle and passed through the wood and into the cozy country kitchen. Annie Mae stood at the sink washing dishes, and Harland watched Jeopardy on the small TV resting on the corner table.
Everything appeared fine with Jolene’s parents, so I left the house and scoped out the barn and land for any sign of trouble from wayward spirits. Nothing. I remounted Skywalker, and we headed into town.
The night sky blazed with lights when we approached the city limits. Store windows urged shoppers inside with enticing festive displays and extended shopping hours. Christmas decorations wrapped around lampposts, and a variety of poinsettias littered the square planters lining the street.
The animated chatter of shoppers drifted upward, and I detected an underlying hint of hysteria. From my position above the street, I had a bird’s-eye view of the area. Nasty, bat-like imps rode the shoulders of young, impatient shoppers prompting them to harangue the older, slower residents trying to navigate the sidewalks.
The whip attached to the side of the saddle vibrated, and I knew it was sending a message. Anticipation raced down my arm, and I unraveled it’s coiled, snake-like appearance with a firm grip. The vibrations sent a tingle up my arm, and I raised my arm in reflex.
Whoosh. The lash sang out across the street. Zap. The tip struck an imp with the impact of a bullet sending it tumbling down the sidewalk and into the gutter.
From the stooped shoulders and backs of harried shoppers, a dozen pair of evil eyes turned and fastened on me, but I paid them little attention. The lash and I were now one. Through the air, the leather whip sung a stinging song of heavenly retribution. Skywalker spun on a dime and pranced his way down the street. His majestic head bobbed up and down, and I knew he was enjoying the game as much as I was.
Whoosh! Zap! Snap!
The imps scattered and rolled in all directions. Teenagers, tired of their sport, settled down and relaxed their tense faces. Aggravated parents breathed a sigh of relief and screaming babies in strollers hushed under their mother’s attention. Below me, I heard the exchange of “Merry Christmas” ring out among the residents.
With Main Street returned to normal, I could scope out the rest of the town and find Krampus and the remainder of his gang. The whip had gone quiet, so I coiled and re-tied it to the saddle with the leather ties. Once it was secured, I gave Skywalker his head to see where he had a mind to go.
The horse made a beeline for the courthouse square. As we traversed down Main Street, I glimpsed the corner which intersected with Love Avenue, and I decided to swing by Dixieland Salon and inspect the premises. If Skywalker approved of the small patch of grass behind the beauty shop, Dixieland would become my headquarters for the duration of my stay.
I left the horse grazing in the back and drifted through the rear door of the salon into the quiet darkness. A sense of familiarity swept over me as I floated down the hallway and into the facial room. Because I’d died here, I haunted it in my spare time. Jolene hated my occasional drop-ins, but oh well, it was my home-away-from-home after all.
Nothing had changed since my last visit two weeks back. Jolene and I had become temporary roommates when she dared to interfere with Heaven’s plans for her mother’s arrival in Paradise. She ended up taking a bullet in her mother’s stead and enjoyed the afterlife for a short period before returning from her traumatic near-death experience. It’s a complicated story and best told elsewhere.
Seeing the advantages of taking up residence in my old haunt, I inspected the rest of the shop for any unwelcomed visitors and found the place clean. When I wafted through the rear door, Skywalker lifted his head and whinnied a greeting.
I gathered up the reins, and patted him on the neck. “Does this place meet with your approval?”
He bobbed his head up and down with a mouth full of dry grass. I took it as a yes.
“Good. It’s my second home when I’m visiting Earth, and I hate hotels. We could hang out around Joggers Pond, or the cemetery, but I’m partial to Dixieland Salon. But before we turn in for the night, let’s take a short ride around town and see if we can spot Krampus’ hideout. What do you say, boy?”
Skywalker pawed the ground with a silver horseshoe. “I’m glad you agree.” I grabbed ahold of the saddle horn and swung a leg over and clicked my heels against his side.
A full moon hung like a giant party balloon over the town, spattering pockets of buttery sheen across downtown and the homes in the historic district. Since its founding, the small town had built itself up around the spacious Victorian mansions and attached gardens of leading town fathers and merchants, and now both shared the business district.
At a gallop, Skywalker headed straight for Park and 6th Street, and minutes later Billie Jo and Roddy’s 1890’s clapboard house came into view. A Christmas wreath with pine cones and lights embellished the glass-paneled front door. Cheery, bright light spilled out of the downstairs windows, and one upstairs window which I knew from previous visits belonged to Billie Jo’s teenage daughter, Lynette. A large evergreen tree covered in twinkling white lights and ornaments winked at me from the front double windows.
I scanned the area and detected nothing out of the ordinary, and no cause for alarm. Laughter and voices intermingled with the faint melody of Christmas music, and I perceived all was well with the Hazard family. I was ready to move on when a set of headlights lit up the street, and I observed a car pull into the driveway and kill the engine.
Teenagers spilled out of the vehicle and dashed up the walkway to the front door, laughing and giggling. Horseplay, my father used to call it with a stern note in his voice and a disapproving frown marring his features. (One reason why I didn’t have many friends growing up.)
Lynette answered the doorb
ell and welcomed the shuffling group inside. A stiff, cold wind rustled the dry, winter leaves, and I shivered as the icy fingers touched my face. No sign of Krampus in the vicinity. The warmth and merriment of the house beckoned me, and I left Skywalker to graze on the front lawn while I sought the balminess of the indoors. One peek I swore, then my partner and I would be off.
The scent of hot chocolate and gingerbread cookies greeted me inside. From the kitchen came joyful laughter and overlapping voices of happy teenagers. I wafted from the entrance foyer to the living room where Roddy lounged back in his recliner, a game show playing on the TV.
Billie Jo must be in the kitchen with the teenagers. I wafted through the walls to the kitchen and found Billie Jo serving refreshments to Lynette and her friends. The room rang with boisterous holiday cheer. There were seven, excluding Lynette. Three cute girls and four gangling boys. One particular boy caught my eye, and I drifted to his side.
He was tall and blonde with icy blue eyes and a prince charming smile. When he spoke to Lynette, I detected a foreign accent. European. Swedish? Norwegian? I’d been overseas several times as a teenager. A memory surfaced. German. Yes, I’d heard that accent while in Berlin one summer with my parents. I tuned into the conversation.
“Let’s duck out,” he was saying. “The others won’t even know we’re gone.” He cupped Lynette’s elbow with one hand and ran a finger down her buttocks with the other. “Just a private moment between friends.” His words said one thing, his eyes another.
“I can’t abandon my friends, Finn,” Lynette whispered. “And they would know if we left. Besides, my mother wouldn’t approve.”
Finn. Cool name. I liked it, but not him. The icy eyes and the fake smile spoke volumes about the boy. And he needed to keep his hands off Billie Jo’s daughter. I blew through him to calm him down a mite.
That did the trick. Finn shivered and took a step back. Lynette shot him a funny glance and leaned closer, and said in a low voice, “Do you suppose the others would like to play the game again? I have the board set up in my room.”
Jingle Bells and Krampus Spells Page 2