Key to Christmas

by Marlene Bierworth

  “I think I shall talk to the woman. See if she’s still happy working here.”

  “If you can, find out what her special interest in me is, and even Pam for that matter,” John said. Denise started toward the back of the room, and after a few interruptions from her clientele, slipped into the kitchen.

  Music, from the nearby Twelve-days of Christmas clock, began to sing the words to Jingle Bells, and then chimed four times.

  Pam stood. “Fun carnival games are happening right now in the town square. Ready for the challenge? I’m fantastic at games.”

  “Am I ready? I was born ready.” John bounced to his feet and grabbed her hand. “I’m great at games, too.” His face beamed as he glanced her way. “Leastways, I think I am.”

  In one hour they’d exhausted the mid-way. When they reached the last game, the score was tied. “I got this one, Johnny boy. My father taught me how to shoot,” Pam said.

  “But they’ve coerced poor defenseless reindeer to stand as targets? Doesn’t that contradict the theme of this whole weekend?” John appeared genuine in his defense of the animal.

  Pam grinned. “They aren’t real, you silly man. Guess I forgot you were a softie where a doe is concerned.”

  “Hah, hah – laugh all you want.” John picked up the play rifle and tried to shoot it like a handgun.

  Pam chuckled again. “It’s a rifle. You won’t hit anything with an aim like that.”

  “Okay, smarty. Why don’t you try first?” John said.

  Pam raised the water rifle and rested the butt end against her shoulder. She eyeballed the reindeer target through the scope and her finger pressed against the trigger. A piercing stream of water jetted toward the wall where the tin animals mounted. It pinged one, and she held her aim steady until the animal staggered and fell upside down. Pam looked at John and grinned. “Not looking too good for you.” The next two did the same. She passed the weapon over to him. “It’s all yours.” It was then she noticed his ashen face. “What’s the matter?”

  “I think I will decline this challenge and declare you the winner – but just by one measly point. Not a great win, but a win regardless.”

  “It’s water, John, and the target is only a tin shaped reindeer.”

  “I know. And I’m grateful that your father taught you shooting skills if only to defeat me today.”

  “You’re crazy!” Pam took the prize of the plaid stuffed reindeer that the lady offered. “Look, a perfect contribution for your tree. Let’s pop it off at the center along with the candy canes, then head over to get a seat for the Santa show.”

  “Good idea,” John said.

  When they arrived at the center, they hurried to the storage room and pushed the small curtain they’d hung for privacy. John’s tree stood where they’d left it. He threw the candy canes on the cot, and Pam hung the winning ornament upfront and center on a branch.

  “There, your very first ornament. Tomorrow, after I give you the remnants from my box of treasures, we will decorate it to perfection.” Pam looked around to find John had disappeared behind the curtain. “Where did you go?”

  “I never noticed this here before. Do you suppose Tom left it for me? I know he saw me bring the tree in earlier.”

  “It says, HELP YOURSELF, in bold black letters, so I am assuming so. Now you will have to wait until December to see my box of goodies,” Pam said.

  “What about tonight? You invited me to your place, right?” John asked.

  “Yes, I did. But this baby-sized tree will only hold a small sample of ornaments. Maybe by winter, you will have a bigger one.”

  “If I’m still here, I will,” John said.

  Pam did not welcome the topsy-turvy upheaval of emotions that occurred at the thought of him leaving Cedar Springs. She attempted to remain calm and keep her voice steady.

  “Oh, so you’re having second thoughts about settling down in the mid-west?” Pam asked.

  “I don’t know why I said that. Cassie has my head spinning. She claims I will not find my destiny here in your fair town and I beg to differ. I’m hoping you are my destiny.”

  “She is rather odd. I would not take her advice too seriously.”

  “I agree, but… there’s something about her that eats at my craw. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Or your brain! Forget her.” Pam grabbed the box and plunked it on his bed. She opened the flaps and peered inside. “These are cute and all miniature.”

  John dragged a shiny one from the bottom of the box. “Except this one.” He held up a large ornate key. Pam gasped and dropped onto a nearby chair.

  “What’s the matter?” John asked.

  When she recovered her composure, Pam muttered in disbelief. “It looks just like the key on the ornament I received in that package from the North Pole.”

  “This one is not an ornament. It’s a real key to a large lock,” John said as he turned it over in his hand.

  “It is a strange coincidence,” Pam murmured as she rose to her feet. “We’d better run if we want to secure a front seat to the show. You don’t want to miss a single adventure in Santa’s workshop, now do you?”

  “Right. We’ll get back to this tomorrow, as planned,” John said.

  John popped the key into his pocket. “We’ll compare mine with the gift ornament you received to see if they match. Wouldn’t that be magical?”

  “Magical? Hardly,” Pam said sarcastically voicing her doubts. She was not a lover of riddles and coincidences and had never taken the unexplainable too seriously, until lately when John had walked into her life. “Although I enjoy a bit of fun, just like everyone else, at times my logical brain refuses to surrender to magic.”

  John took her hand in his. “Meeting you was pure magic.”

  “It was providence. But I have no problem accepting miracles from heaven,” Pam compromised.

  “Then a miracle we are. I can live with that,” John said.

  Pam slapped at him playfully, but when he moved to avoid contact, she lost her balance. He caught her before she fell headfirst into the artificial tree. They stood eye-to-eye, unable to move. His eyes searched hers, and she drank in his tender scrutiny. She did not feel violated, and for the first time in a long time, she felt liberated in a man’s presence.

  “Do you feel it?” John whispered. “The magic?”

  “You mean the miracle, right?”

  He never answered but tightened his grip on the hands that rested against her waist. “You are a beautiful woman, Pamela Legend. I don’t deserve you.”

  “Maybe I don’t deserve you. Have you ever considered that?”

  Pam could feel his breath on her face, hot and spicy, and her heart tumbled gently into a place it had never gone before. Could this be what love felt like? She only knew that it didn’t matter about the missing details of his past, for she’d peered beyond, into his soul, and felt satisfied with the image ingrained there. In setting herself up for a successful career, Pam had missed the things that mattered most. Maybe it was finally her time.

  John reached into the box and withdrew the mistletoe. He dangled it over their heads and his teasing smile spoke volumes to her needy heart. He leaned in. Their lips had barely touched when the storage room door burst open. They jumped apart like two children with their hands caught in the cookie jar.

  “Sorry, you two,” said Tom. “Just grabbing a roll of paper towel. Big mess in the bathroom to clean up.”

  “Can I help? “John offered.

  “No way! I told you to have fun this weekend. Monday is coming and I will welcome you back into your role as my personal side-kick. Don’t know how I managed without you.”

  “We’re off to the theater. Are you meeting Denise there?” Pam asked.

  “We can’t make this event. Denise is on her way over to help me finish up. It’s been a long day, and we are ready to curl up on the couch at home with eggnog and some fattening pastries.”

  “Enjoy,” Pam said. “You two work hard.�
�

  John and Pam squeezed into the last two available seats in the front row. John provided a breath of fresh air and an exclusive, second show for Pam while behaving like a toddler viewing Christmas for the first time.

  The lights in the auditorium faded and the curtain opened. “Welcome to Santa’s Village,” the narrator said. Mrs. Claus was center stage. Pam startled, as did John. The one acting the great lady’s part was Cassie. With the woman’s busy schedule, Pam wondered when the baker had found time to rehearse a play.

  As the seconds lengthened into minutes, and onward to complete a full hour of delight, pent-up energy pushed Pam to the edge of the seat. Christmas was in trouble, all because of one rebel – the son of Mr. and Mrs. Claus. At the end, when Christmas was saved from extinction and the feat credited to the Miracle-Maker, Pam relaxed. A nice blend of truth and fiction, danger and fun – like a modern parable.

  This was not Cedar Springs’ usual nonsensical rendition of Santa, reindeer, merriment, and frolic. It contained a parallel message that combined with the earlier one of the Christ-child. Yet, somehow this finale made Pam more grateful for the season of love and happy-ever-after. With evil conquered, good reigned victorious. Even the children understood and cheered the champions on.

  Pam turned to John and witnessed the horror on his face. He shot to his feet and ran from the building. She stared after him. When she felt a light tap on her shoulder, she spun around and came face to face with Cassie.

  “My dear. You need to follow John. His quest has now become yours.”

  Before Pam could respond, Cassie slipped among the crowds gathering in the aisle and disappeared from view. It was true. She’d made John’s recovery her personal concern after releasing him from the hospital and in the process was falling for the man. Now she was dubious whether she could tolerate his sudden bouts of flight. Monday, she would schedule him with a physiatrist who specialized in cases like his. Pam sighed. Best follow him for now. She was in well over her head. Although Pam could not see Cassie watching, she felt her presence.

  Pam wiggled through the excited spectators who’d gathered to congratulate and talk to the actors and finally escaped outside. The early evening brought with it a light breeze, which calmed her nerves. She glanced up and down the streets, but saw nothing. Where would John go? She started to walk, following the melodies of carolers singing the songs of Christmas. When she found them, she also found John. He sat on a park bench, a few feet from the peaceful tunes with his head buried in his hands.

  Pam quickened her pace, and when she stood next to him, she touched his shoulder. He jumped to his feet, and the eyes that met her were full of tears.

  “You should have listened to your initial warning about my disposition. It appears I am not the good boy you hoped for. Leave now and don’t look back.”

  Pam stood her ground. She’d always considered herself a good judge of character, and she was not about to cast him aside like yesterday’s trash. “Have you finished the verbal assault on your character? It’s too late for me to turn back, John. Don’t you know that?”

  “If you mean the near-kiss, forget it. I was out of line.” He pushed his hands into his pocket. “I’ll be leaving town.”

  “Not until you tell me your story. We have a date – cocoa and goodies at my place. And we both know you can’t pass up the sweet treats.”

  He looked around like a frightened animal caught in a trap. “It’s not a good idea, Pam.”

  “It’s the best idea. Surely you don’t plan on embarking on this wild adventure alone? I want to help you discover the missing pieces. Is that so hard to understand?”

  “I discovered them.” He looked off into the distance. “Turns out I caused the evil in the play and I need to fix it.”

  “Didn’t you hear – the Miracle Maker has already finished the job? The North Pole is safe.” Pam said it in a light, playful tone, hoping to relax his half-crazed intention.

  John fanned his fingers through his hair. “You don’t see the big picture.”

  “And you do?”

  “No, I don’t! Is that what you want to hear? Sin is targeting me and I know I still have a part to play in securing the future. But you’re right. I don’t have a clue how to do it.”

  “Cassie says I’m your side-kick and you need me,” Pam said.

  “You talked to her?”

  “Yes, but I’ll not say another word until we’re seated in my living room holding a hot soothing drink.”

  His broad masculine shoulders slumped, and her heart went out to the man. “You win. Let’s go.”

  Pam sent him directly to the couch and fussed in the kitchen preparing the drinks and a light snack. She placed it on a Christmas tray and brought it into the other room. He sat staring into the cold hearth.

  “You don’t know how to start a fire?” Pam asked as she set the tray on the coffee table.

  “It’s July.”

  “Electric fireplaces have this wonderful feature. Flames without heat.”

  John jumped to his feet. “Of course, they do.” With a flick of a switch, he had the semblance of a blaze roaring in the fireplace. He then came and sat next to her on the couch.

  “Thanks,” Pam said as she passed him a hot drink and a napkin. He grabbed half a ham sandwich and bit into it.

  “Good,” he mumbled, and Pam let him finish it in peace while she nibbled on one of her own. A cookie followed. They remained silent. One long slurp drained the contents of John’s cup, and he relaxed back into the cushions. “Thanks. Seems I have a bottomless pit.”

  “Agreed! Ready to talk?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’d surely graduate from a memory loss victim to a crazy man in thirty seconds flat.”

  “Try me.”

  “You’re the scientific type. Not into the strange workings of my crazy life. I don’t know what mother was thinking?”

  “Mother? Now that’s interesting. Tell me about your mother.”

  “She is a jolly person. Loves to cook, but mostly bake – thus my inclination to all things food.” John bit into a cookie to emphasize the point. “I am her favorite taste-tester. She’s a hard worker and active year-round with her business – of sorts.”

  “A business cannot be of-sorts. That would be a hobby.”

  “Right! She has an employee, several in fact. One we both know.”

  “Who?” Pam was curious now.

  “Cassie, the dedicated meddler.”

  “Really?” Pam ignored his negative description of her. “That’s great news. She can help you find your way home, right?”

  “I left home and broke my mother’s heart. Cassie says she is not responding to her calls. She’s afraid something horrible has happened.”

  “All the more reason for you to go home and make amends. You can’t allow your mother to wallow in depression and withdraw from her activities and friends. You need to go to her, John.”

  “John, yeah… I like John-Doe. Let’s keep it that way between you and me.”

  “I take it you have another name?”

  He stood to his feet. “No. You got it right. But I think you’ve heard enough for one night.” John sniffed in the pine’s aroma and fingered the ornaments, consumed with inner turmoil. Suddenly he stopped. He pulled the ornamental gift key from its branch and turned to face Pam.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “In my mysterious Christmas package from the North Pole.” Pam laughed. “It is rather large and decorative, isn’t it?”

  John began to pace. She allowed him space to simmer and remained quiet. Apparently, he liked her ornament for he held it tightly within his grasp.

  “How about we do one more festive event, to free your mind from this terrible mood you’ve sunk into? We’ll go decorate your little tree so you will have sweet dreams tonight. Then we’ll head off and whoop it up at the town celebration. Do you like to dance?”

  John nodded, and Pam took that as yes. “I’m going t
o freshen up, and then we’ll be off. Have another cookie. I won’t be long.”

  Pam went into the bathroom and ran a brush through her wind-swept hair. She mounted it on her head, twisting and fluffing until it took on the festive look. She dangled a pair of reindeer from her ears and put on the necklace to match. A festive get-together deserved her best efforts. After touching up her makeup, she completed it with a smear of cherry-colored lipstick then stood back and surveyed the results. Not bad. Should be enough to take John’s mind off his troubles.

  Pam clung to her conviction that he’d exaggerated his part in the rebellion, which had caused him to flee from home. She’d continue to encourage him to make restitution with his mother. Pam wondered if his father were still alive. So much she didn’t know, but they had all evening, tomorrow and Monday before work claimed her undivided attention.

  With a happy heart, she sang the words; we wish you a Merry Christmas, as she strolled into the living room. She stopped dead in her tracks. The room was empty. John had skipped out on her again. The tray was in the kitchen, and the dirty dishes packed neatly in the sink. He’d scribbled, I’m sorry, on a napkin, the words encased in a perfectly outlined heart. He may as well have shot an arrow through it!

  Anger erupted. Her foot impulsively shot out against the sturdy island sidewall and she wailed with immediate pain. “Ouch!” Her toes throbbed as she hobbled to the hall closet. Why wouldn’t John let her into his newly recalled life-drama? She’d not been pushy or demanding. Frustrated, she came to the only conclusion that fit his conduct. Perhaps the almost kiss meant nothing to him at all. Love had waved its wand over their heads, momentarily, but the mistletoe magic had not found its way into his heart.

  Well, she’d not wallow in it! A dance was a dance, and she was dressed to attend. The key-ornament that John had held so near to his heart laid on the counter, and she tossed it into her purse to use as a self-pity reminder when she later became unglued emotionally. It was bound to happen. They designed parties for couples, and she was alone, again. Pam slipped into her dancing shoes, picked up her bag, and slammed out of the apartment.