A Fantasy Christmas

by Cindy Bennett, Sherry Gammon, Stephanie Fowers

  He began searching for his bike. He looked under, around, and behind the bush, but couldn’t find it anywhere.

  “Are you sure we’re at the right bush?” I asked. “It’s pretty dark, maybe this is the wrong one.” I waved my hand and lit up the area.

  “Seriously? Why didn’t you do that five minutes ago?” he asked.

  “Sorry,” I said with a chortle as I climbed down.

  After searching another ten minutes we gave up and got back on Sera. Jack guided us to his apartment, a small, one-bedroom above Riggle’s Market. We stood under the porch light that illuminated the stairs and I slipped my arms around his neck as he circled my waist with his.

  “Thank you, Marigold, for saving my life.” Before I could answer, he kissed me, thawing me to the bone. As he tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss, tires squealed. We spun around in time to see Buck Abbott’s truck speed past us and head up the road.

  My brow pulled tight with worry. “That means the Fartious twins will know about us soon.”

  “Don’t worry about them.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’ll stop by after work tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be waiting. And don’t forget to drink your tea twice a day,” I reminded him as I climbed back onto Sera.

  “Will do. Good night.” He waved, and after a final, reluctant look, went inside.

  It was a long, lonely trip back to my house.

  Jack stayed true to his word. Every evening he came by my place. We bagged and labeled herbs, or made goat milk soap. We also shared our dreams for the future, and kissed, of course. He’d often stay much too late, and would have to drag himself out to his truck to head home. I worried he’d fall asleep driving, but he insisted he wouldn’t. A few times I had to use an enchantment on him to ensure he’d get home safely. “Too bad we can’t bottle that,” he said. “We’d be rich.”

  News spread like wildfire that we were an item. When I came into town, the majority of folks were excited for us. A few, mostly old classmates, not so much. I got the entire array of responses from them: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

  “Marigold.” Michelle, from my graduating class, stopped me in the grocery aisle. “I hear tell that you and hot Jack Mahoney are a thing. Good fer you, girl.” She gave me a hug and left.

  Derk, the has-been-basketball-star-turned-alcoholic, confronted me on the street after my lunch date with Jack. “My momma says you got caught, and now you’s making Jack marry you,” he slurred.

  I hate that southern expression. “I’m not pregnant,” I spit back. I considered telling him that Jack and I hadn’t even slept together, but stopped myself. It was none of his business.

  “I’m sorry, Marigold.” Derk’s wife Suzy, a former cheerleader, slipped her arm around her inebriated husband’s waist, though she herself didn’t seem too sober. “Derk’s about as useless as a screen door on a submarine most days. He could start an argument in an empty house, bless his heart.” She tugged her husband across the street to the corner bar.

  “Thank heaven those two have never reproduced,” I mumbled to myself.

  The rudest response came from the Fartious twins. Big surprise, not. I had the privilege of running into them in the restroom at Walmart the day before Halloween. I’d just made a delivery of herbs in my witch getup. I debated about whether to wear it with the added attention I’d been getting lately, but decided, “’tis the season.” Big mistake. The twins were just as ornery as ever.

  “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, witch,” Fiona sneered as she eyeballed my black dress and pointy hat. “You ain’t got him yet.”

  “What do you care?” I quickly washed my hands, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. “You’re both married. It’s not like either of you can have him.”

  “Who says we want him?” Felecia sputtered, her cheeks suddenly red.

  Seeing that I got to her, I smiled and leaned back against the sink. “If you don’t, then why you getting all riled up?” I asked. “Anyway, he’s a big boy. He can make his own decisions.”

  “Some men ain’t got the good sense God gave a goose.” Fiona pressed closer and added, “And I’m gonna make sure Jack knows you ain’t worth the salt in yer bread.”

  Still upset when I met up with Jack an hour later, I had a hard time hiding my run-in with the twins. Jack reached across the table and clasped my hand in a firm grip. “Marigold, trust me. I don’t care what those two say. Now kiss me.”

  “Right here in front of the entire restaurant?” I glanced around at the lunch crowd that packed the place.

  “Listen, I’ve had at least fifteen people stop me on the street and slap me on the back. Do you know what most of them say?” he asked. I shook my head. “They say they’re happier than a two-headed cat in a creamery for us.” He chuckled. “There will always be a few naysayers, but you can’t let them suck the life out of you and spoil the good things. Now, please kiss me.”

  I stretched across the table and Jack gave me a kiss way too improper for a crowded restaurant. He didn’t stop until the people around us started clapping and whistling. I pulled back and found almost everyone smiled our way. “I told you,” Jack said, squeezing my hand.

  “You’re right,” I said, blushing.

  After lunch, he gave me a ride home in his police car. “I have to work late so I can’t stop by tonight.” He tucked a curl behind my ear. “Chayton invited us to go trick-or-treating with his family tomorrow. Interested?”

  “I haven’t gone trick-or-treating in years,” I said, way too excited. “I’d love to. What do you think?”

  “Let’s do it. I’ve never been with a real witch before. Well, I don’t think I have. ” He pulled me close. “ So what are you going to go as?”

  “Are you serious? A witch, of course.”

  “I hoped you’d say that,” he said against my lips. “I do like this dress on you.”

  My morning was spent sprucing up my costume. I decided not to wear the one I delivered my herbs in. The town had seen me in it every year for the past seven years. Instead, I pulled out one my mother had made for me. I hadn’t worn it since she passed away. It was a little tight, but there were several darts along the bodice that could easily be let out. It had sparkly purple and orange rhinestones, and was much prettier than the drab black one I usually wore. And shorter. I’d grown a few inches since she’d made it. I’d have to add a black ruffle to the bottom unless I wanted my butt to hang out.

  I quickly altered the dress the old fashioned way: with a needle and thread. I didn’t use a speck of magic. My Mom would be proud.

  Knowing Jack would be here any minute, I hurried to the bathroom and frizzed my hair a little, and added a beauty mark to my chin with an eyebrow pencil. “Very witchy,” I said to my reflection in the mirror.

  Jack knocked on the door as I finished. “Perfect timing,” I said, as we left. Overcast skies kept the temperature pleasant. I carried a sweater with me in case it grew cold.

  He wore a black-and-white-striped jumpsuit. On his chest sat a large red heart made of paper. “I take it you’re a prisoner,” I said. “But I don’t get that.” I pointed to the heart.

  He laughed. “I’m a prisoner of love.” He scooped me up and swung me around before setting me on the ground. “And might I add, you look especially lovely tonight.”

  “Thanks.” I pushed a strand of unruly hair behind my ear, feeling a little breathless. “My mom made this for me when I was younger. I’ve grown since then and had to add the ruffle. Do you like it?” I pointed to the four inch ruffle.

  “I think I’d like it better without the ruffle,” he grinned mischievously.

  “You’re bad.” I smacked him playfully on the chest. He held open his car door for me, which reminded me of his alternate transportation. “Did you ever find your bike?” I asked as he got in.

  “Nope. It just disappeared. Five hundred dollars down the tubes,” he frowned.

  We met up with Chayton and his wife, Gina.
She, too, dressed as a traditional witch, with a gauzy black dress and pointed witch’s hat. “Nice costume,” she said with a wink.

  “Thank you.” I curtsied. “Same to you.”

  Their girls were dressed as fairy princesses, but her youngest, Jenna, had on a witch’s hat. “She couldn’t decide,” Gina whispered.

  Marie, the older of the two, grabbed my hand. “You are a beautiful witch.” She beamed.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Jack said, taking my other hand and kissing it. The girls giggled as their mother led them across the street to some houses heavily decorated with pumpkins and ghosts.

  “Great girls you have, Chayton,” Jack said while we waited for them on the curb. “You must be very proud.”

  “I am.” He watched them with a smile while they collected their candy and danced off the porch. The lady at the door ooh-ed and ah-ed at their costumes. “They are very much like their mother,” he said.

  “And thankfully they look like her, too,” Jack teased.

  “Amen, bro.” Chayton and Jack bumped fists.

  Screams and shouts coming from down the street cut the laughter like a hot knife through butter. I froze as the girls ran up to their father, huddling around him in fear. I could see the screams igniting Jack’s cop instincts to react and react quickly as he took several steps toward the commotion. Chayton scooped up his youngest and placed her in Gina’s arms. “Daddy needs to go and see what is wrong. Stay with mommy. You know she can protect you better than me anyway. She’s pretty scary when she’s mad.” He smiled tightly. “Come on, Jack.”

  Jack kissed my cheek and took off after Chayton, yelling over his shoulder, “Maybe you can stay with Gina till I get back.”

  “Of course,” Gina said.

  “Be careful,” I called after him. I held Marie’s hand as she cowered against me.

  We watched the boys trail out of sight and then Gina sighed. “C’mon, we shouldn’t be out here. Let’s get the girls home.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jack

  Chayton and I raced down the road toward the screams. We came to a large circle of teens. One of them lay on the ground unconscious, his clothes dirty and torn. Another dressed in a red hoodie and jeans pressed hard on the kid’s bloody leg.

  “That witch did it,” someone slurred behind us. I turned to see Derk, my old teammate from high school. I still couldn’t believe he was the star athlete back in the day. He could out-score, out-jump, and play circles around me until he started using drugs and drinking. Now he’d lost it all.

  He pointed at me. “Your girlfriend did this!”

  I shoved past him and examined the wound closer as the boy who’d been pressing on it stood. Blood spurted out of the six inch gash and I immediately reapplied pressure with my hand. Several people in the growing crowd groaned. Mrs. Hazel, the town librarian, knelt down and wiped the dirt from his face with a tissue.

  “I’m tellin’ ya, it’s that witch who—”

  “You drink too much, Derk,” snapped Chayton, cutting the drunk off. Several amens rippled through the crowd. “Marigold was with me and my family all evening.”

  Derk stumbled away while I tore off my belt and wrapped it around the boy’s bloody leg. I only knew the basics of first aid, but hoped it was enough to keep him alive. An ambulance pulled up. They applied a pressure bandage to the wound as they lifted the boy onto a gurney and into the ambulance.

  “Who saw what happened?” Chayton demanded in his pull-no-punches, booming voice. I noted a couple of boys ducking their heads.

  “You,” I pointed to one of them. “How did you get blood on your jeans?”

  “I-ah-well . . .” He scratched his greasy, blond head.

  “Can we talk in private?” asked the teen in the red sweatshirt who’d helped earlier. His hands were still bloody.

  Chayton and I moved to the side and both teens stumbled over to speak with us. “Alright, Greg, spill,” Chayton demanded of the blond teen.

  “We heard a rumor that someone was selling moonshine up on Sugar Maple Ridge,” he said, his eyes glued to his shoes. “So Will,” he pointed toward the ambulance as it drove away, red lights flashing, “and Hank and I . . .”

  “So we thought we’d sneak up and get some,” Hank finished. “But someone set booby traps. Will fell in one. If I hadn’t caught him before he fell clear to the bottom, he’d be dead. As is, a metal tube stabbed him in the leg. And blood kept spurting out of the cut.” Hank wiped the tears from his cheeks with his sleeve. “We carried him down the hill as fast as we could while I pressed on his leg to stop the blood. We didn’t even stop when it felt like our lungs would explode.”

  “He’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” asked Greg. He ran a shaky hand through his blond hair.

  “I’m not sure, son,” Chayton said softly. He gripped the boy’s shoulders. “You did good. Though I hope you’re not stupid enough to ever go up there in search of moonshine again. That stuff can kill you.”

  “No, sir,” they both vowed.

  “We’d better take them to the station and write up a report while it’s fresh in their minds,” Chayton said to me. “You take one of the boys, I’ll question the other and we can get this done quicker.” He called the boy’s parents on his cell phone, and arranged for the injured boy’s family to meet up with their son at the hospital.

  “My dad’s going to kill me,” muttered Greg on the way to the station. My hands tightened at my side. The boys deserve to be punished. They almost got their friend killed up there—if they hadn’t been able to save him, Greg and Hank would’ve carry the guilt of their friend’s death for years to come. That kind of thing was hard enough for a grown man. We filed silently into the station and, after taking their reports, we released the boys to their parents.

  “Maybe it was the hole you fell into,” Clayton said as we finished the reports.

  I shook my head. “Marigold and I filled that one. This is a different one, closer to the Abbott’s place.” I scrubbed my face. A few days after I’d told Chayton about my fall, leaving out exactly how serious it was to protect Marigold’s secret, we’d searched for the stills, concentrating around the creek, but found nothing.

  “Jack, tomorrow I want you to take those boys back up there and see if you can find the hole Will fell into.” He stood, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. “Check out the area. See if you can find anything that looks like a still. Barrels, copper wiring, anything at all. Take Marigold with you. It’s a large ridge. The more eyes the better.”

  “Will do.” I followed him out the door to his car.

  “Come on.” He broke into a smile, his shoulders finally relaxing. “Gina texted me. She made us some hot chocolate. Oh, and Marigold’s there, if you’re interested.” He winked.

  “Thanks for coming with me and the boys, Marigold.” I gave her a kiss before walking outside toward my patrol car. She closed the door to her cabin without locking it. I caught her hands in mine and stopped to face her. “It’s not safe to leave your door unlocked, especially with moonshiners around.”

  “It’s sweet of you to worry, but there’s an enchantment on my land.” She beamed proudly. “After I discovered that the Abbott’s had encroached on my property, I placed an enchantment so no one can cross onto my land without permission.”

  “So that’s why I couldn’t find the trail to your cabin that first day,” I said. “Have I ever mentioned that I love that you’re a witch?” I kissed her forehead. “Hopefully, you can help me find the stills.”

  “I told you last night when you dropped me off that Chayton and I couldn’t find anything when we looked before,” she explained, rubbing her thumb against my fingers.

  “But this time you can use your magic,” I insisted. “Or maybe I just want your company.” I bounced my eyebrows.

  “Well, in that case, I’m in.” She kissed my cheek and looped her arm in mine until we got to the car.

  “Boys, you know Miss Marigold, correct?” Greg wave
d weakly from the backseat. Hank—the little punk—winked at her.

  I grounded my teeth. “Dude, you’re fifteen, and she is way out of your league, anyway.” I all but ripped the car door open for Marigold to give her the front seat.

  She patted me on the chest and grinned. She turned to study Greg and Hank. “Hello, boys. I hear tell your friend Will’s doing well this morning.”

  I settled in the driver’s seat as Greg answered, “Yes, ma'am.” He twisted uncomfortably in his seat. “I called the hospital this morning. He said he can go home tomorrow.”

  “He’s lucky.” I started the car and drove to the property line between Marigold’s place and the Abbott’s. “Did you boys get in trouble with your parents?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir. I’m grounded for a month.” Hank leaned forward as he spoke, edging closer to Marigold. I pushed his head back.

  “We can hear you just fine.” Twerp. “How about you, Greg?”

  “My momma took after me because my daddy was too mad. He said if he punished me, I’d be crippled for life and momma would go easier.” Greg shifted in his seat again. “But I think she hits plenty hard. I can’t barely sit.”

  “Sometimes life’s lessons can be painful,” I pointed out needlessly.

  “Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.

  We parked near the spot Hank showed us. He led us up to the hole, now a disheveled mess. “There’s a scrap of Will’s jeans hooked to some of that rusty metal tubing poking out the side,” he said.

  I peered deeper in the hole as I spotted something of mine. “Hey! There’s my long lost bike, minus the tires.” They’re going to pay for that.

  We took several pictures, including some of the blood droplets splattered over nearby foliage then placed the leaves in an evidence bag. “Did you boys ever find the still?”

  “No, sir,” Greg said, glancing into the pit. “We just got up here when Will fell through those branches. I barely got a hold of his hands before he fell all the way down. If he’d a landed at the bottom, I don’t think he’d be doing so good.”