Christmas Carol & the Shimmering Elf

by Robert L. Fouch

  “Merry Christmas,” I said. “How do you know my . . .” Noelle glanced curiously at me again. “Noelle?” I finished.

  “I worked as a livery driver downtown,” Elijah said. “She was my most loyal customer, and a good tipper. She helped me save for this place.” He beamed with pride. I could see why. The tavern was warm and cozy, everything neat and orderly, with plenty of customers. “What can I get you? The rabbit is excellent.”

  I tried not to cringe at the thought of eating bunnies. I didn’t want to offend Elijah. Not to mention the fact that I was starving. “That sounds good,” I said. Ray and Noelle nodded. And ten minutes later, we each had a plate full of rabbit, potatoes, and freshly baked bread. The aromas were so wonderful they made me lightheaded.

  Elijah sat in an empty chair, which groaned under his humongousness. Another patron motioned repeatedly to our cheerful new friend, but Elijah ignored him. “So what can I do for you?” he asked.

  Noelle glanced at the other customers. She leaned close to Elijah. “Tell us about the boy with the red hair.”

  Elijah’s brow crinkled, the furrows of his massive forehead like valleys between great mountains. For the first time since we’d met, his smile vanished. “The devil child,” he said softly. “That’s what they call him.”

  “He’s not a devil,” I said indignantly.

  Elijah raised an eyebrow, making half valleys. “Yes, child. I know he’s not a devil. I’ve been taking food out to him. But there is something strange about him. He frightens people.”

  “We want to help him,” Noelle said. “Do you know where he stays?”

  “Out in the forest. I took him blankets just yesterday. It was the strangest thing.” Elijah hesitated.

  “What?” Ray asked. He leaned into Elijah’s every word.

  “The trees around him were knocked down, as if a giant had felled them.”

  Ray and I looked at each other. We knew what that meant. The boy must be truly powerful if he was knocking down trees with no knowledge of how to focus his ability.

  “Show us,” Noelle said.

  Elijah nodded and his smile reappeared, as broad as ever. “Right after closing time. Enjoy your meals.” And he returned to work, finally fetching a new drink for his frustrated customer.

  Elijah put us in front of the crackling fire and I enjoyed the next couple of hours relaxing and chatting with Noelle. Seeing her younger and stronger was soooooo cool, but it was frustrating having to be so careful what I said. She wanted to know more about the future, of course. “We can’t,” I said. “Future you said we should say as little as possible or it could mess things up.”

  She didn’t press us further. But Ray, who’d spent most of the time staring at the fire, whispered, “It’s a terrible place to live.” I started to stop him, but the tears in his eyes paralyzed my tongue. And maybe his future was OK to talk about since we hoped to change it anyway. “People like us are hunted. We live like animals with barely enough to eat, and an evil dictator monitors our every move.”

  “That’s why we’re here, Ray,” I said, touching his shoulder. “We’re going to fix that.”

  He stared grimly into the flickering flames. “Yeah, about that. I’ve been thinking. What if when we change things, something big in my life changes? Maybe my mom is never born in your reality. Which would mean I cease to exist.”

  I had wondered the same thing and had no answer for him. I kept thinking of my father and whether he existed in the world my uncle created. But Mr. Winters did, even if it was a different version of Mr. Winters. And so did Toby Wise, the Defender I’d known. That led me to believe Dad existed here, and Ray and his mom would exist in my world, too. “I think she’ll be there, and hopefully you’ll be together again.” Ray nodded, looking away so I wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. I felt so sorry for him. I turned to Noelle. “I won’t say too much about my world, except that Christmas is a magical, wonderful time, and some evil person changed all of that.”

  “Magical?” Noelle asked. “You’re talking about Santa?”

  I nodded, deciding it was OK to confirm guesses she had about the future. She grimaced, which seemed odd. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She looked away. “Nothing.”

  “Come on,” I said. “I can tell it’s not nothing.”

  She sighed and asked, “Santa brings toys to every child on Christmas?”

  I nodded.

  “And the elves help make them?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “So his vision came true,” she said. “No thanks to me.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She hung her head. “Santa asked for my help. He asked me to persuade the other elves to join him.”

  “They haven’t always worked for Santa?” Ray asked.

  Noelle sniffed. “Hardly. elves are a prickly bunch. Very independent. We weren’t crazy about him moving so close to our realm in the first place.”

  “Where did he come from?” Ray asked.

  “No one knows for sure and he won’t say,” Noelle said. “But I liked him from the beginning and we became friends. He told me about his dream. He wanted to bring toys to every good boy and girl in the world. He had already started small, giving toys where he could. But he needed elves to go bigger. He asked me to help persuade the others to help.” She hesitated.

  “What happened?” Ray asked.

  “I was selfish,” she said. “I wanted to see the world. I didn’t want to be stuck in the North Pole making toys. So I told Santa he was on his own and I left.”

  “You wanted your own life,” I said. “Santa probably understood that.”

  “I was a leader. Someone destined to rule the elf world. So when I took off, the other elves didn’t cooperate with Santa. And before I left, Santa and I had an argument. I said terrible things.”

  “What?” I asked, hardly breathing. I couldn’t even conceive of Santa and Grandmother exchanging a harsh word.

  Noelle sat back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. “That he was a silly old man wasting his time on a crazy dream. Toys for the entire world!” She sniffed again. “Impossible.” I cringed, imagining how those words must have hurt Santa. “He told me he might have a way, but he needed my help.”

  “You didn’t believe him?” Ray asked.

  “Would you?” Noelle asked. “The other elves heard our argument and decided that if I was going to live my own life, why shouldn’t they?”

  “So none of them helped?” I asked.

  “A few. But not enough.” She shook her head. “He must have succeeded, though, right? Despite what I did?” She looked at me hopefully.

  I squirmed, wishing I could tell her about the Defenders and the elves and the magical world of Christmas that I knew. “You know I can’t say,” I said. “It’s too dangerous. But Santa forgives you. Your future self told me to tell you that.”

  Noelle smiled. “I hope so.” Then her eyes lit up. “Wait, does all this have something to do with the boy, with Santa’s plan?” I squirmed again, looking away. “I know, I know,” she said. “You can’t say.”

  After that, we sat quietly for a long while waiting for Elijah to finish. My eyelids grew heavy, but I didn’t want to sleep, afraid of missing something important. I noticed a newspaper on the table next to Noelle. Can I see? I asked telepathically.

  She handed me the newspaper, which was considerably different from the ones in my world. The paper was only a few pages thick but almost cloth-like, much sturdier than modern newspapers and filled with rows of tiny gray type. “The Liberator,” I read aloud.

  “An abolitionist newspaper,” Noelle said. I searched my memory bank. I knew that word, but history wasn’t my strong suit. Noelle looked at my blank expression. “Anti-slavery,” she said.

  Then I remembered. Before the Civil War, preachers, politicians, newspaper editors, and other activists spoke out on the evils of slavery. They would eventually win, but not before the country was ripped apa
rt and thousands upon thousands died in the Civil War. I thought of Frederick Douglass, one of the black activists we had studied at Broward Academy. He was a slave who escaped, learned to read, and became a great statesman. Too bad we couldn’t look him up in 1851. It would be so cool to talk with a historical figure I’d read about in my textbooks.

  I looked at the front page of The Liberator. At the top above the name was an illustration of a slave sale. An auctioneer shouted out prices as black people cowered beneath him. And below was the quote: “Our Country Is the World – Our Countrymen Are Mankind.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked Noelle, pointing to the quote.

  She studied it. “That’s Mr. Garrison’s philosophy.”

  “Who?”

  “William Lloyd Garrison, the abolitionist. He thinks our country should be leading the world, setting an example of freedom. But we keep our countrymen, the negro, in chains.”

  I thought of the poor “devil child,” as the townspeople called him, and how he had escaped those very chains. I fell asleep wondering what awful things he had endured in his short life.

  Noelle shook me awake in what seemed like the blink of an eye. The Red Dragon was empty and Elijah was shoving his last customer out the door, a fellow who’d had so much of the Red Dragon’s “special ale” he could barely walk. Elijah untied his apron, blew out all the candles, turned off the gas lamps, and motioned for us to follow him into the Seneca Village night.

  The streets were barren. A lone lamppost flickered weakly and cast long shadows that moved as if they were alive. I wished we could use Ray’s flashlight but figured Elijah would safely lead us where we needed to go. He carried a small lantern and we trudged silently past the last house of the village, following a dirt trail into the dark woods. It still blew my mind that this was New York City. We were in the countryside! And night creatures scurried and hooted and chattered, stopping only at our approach. Stumbling through the woods, I nearly fell and Ray caught me before I went down. I smiled at him, embarrassed.

  Elijah motioned for us to stop. “Let me go ahead. He knows me.” He disappeared, his lantern fading into the night. We stood in almost pitch-black. Something slithered through the brush and I shuddered. We heard Elijah calling softly for the boy. I spotted a glimmer of the lantern among the trees, but there was no answer. And when Elijah returned a few minutes later, I wasn’t surprised when he told us, “He’s gone.”

  “Where?” I asked, feeling dumb the moment I said it.

  He shrugged. “Still running. Easy to understand why considering how the townfolk treated him.”

  Noelle looked unconvinced and glanced at me as Elijah held up his lantern and peered into the woods. Make a portal without drawing attention to yourself, she said. Find him. She walked over to Elijah, saying, “I think I saw something move.” While our guide was turned the other direction, I concentrated on the brief glimpse I’d gotten of the boy, zeroing in on his baby face. The portal crackled before me. The picture came into focus. And I was confused. The boy lay on what looked like a hospital bed. His eyes were closed. I couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or something more ominous. He appeared to be alone.

  Noelle glanced at me and I nodded. I found him.

  “Thank you for trying, Elijah,” Noelle said. “I guess he’s gone. We’ll let you return to the Red Dragon.”

  “You’ll be all right?” he asked. “I can put you up for the night.”

  “No need,” Noelle said. “A carriage awaits to take us home. Though my driver can’t compare to you.”

  Elijah gave us a glorious smile and embraced Noelle again, lifting her off the ground. He gave Ray and me a farewell bear hug and ambled back down the path toward Seneca Village. We waited until we could no longer hear him, then Noelle said, “These powers you have, tell me about them.”

  “We can do what the boy does, blasting things with invisible waves of energy,” I said. “Plus, I can stop time. I freeze everything and everybody.”

  Noelle raised her eyebrows. “Remarkable.” She rubbed her chin, lost in thought. “Use your powers and we will go to the boy. Freeze him so he doesn’t attack us again.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath. My heart thumped as I concentrated on him. I needed a larger portal for the three of us, so I used my cane to focus the energy. The portal sizzled with the cane’s power. It was almost my height, maybe the best one I’d ever made, and Noelle and I each took one of Ray’s hands. “One, two, three!” I said, and we jumped.

  We landed in the hospital room across from the boy. I raised my hand to freeze time, delayed momentarily while I steadied myself. But before I could, a massive blast of energy knocked me off of my feet. The breath rushed from my chest. Ray and Noelle flew through the air. I landed across the room. My head snapped back, smacking the hard floor. And I saw nothing but blackness.

  I awoke to the sight of Uncle Christopher’s face only a foot from mine, and for a moment, I thought I was back home in Hillsboro in his mansion. He was waking me for school, the one household task he never left to a member of his staff. “Up, Carol!” he would say every morning, an edge to his voice. He was always so impatient, as if I annoyed him simply by sleeping. But strangely enough, I cherished those moments. He was the only family I had at the time. And I believed that underneath his gruff manner, he truly did care for me. Why else would he wake me himself?

  “Up, Carol!” That edge. That impatience. I opened my eyes, almost expecting to be in my old bed, surrounded by my collection of fifty-nine Santas, my Christmas lights glowing, the tree shimmering. But none of it was there. Just Uncle Christopher.

  He was skinnier and looked even more chiseled from stone than he did when I lived with him. I wondered vaguely if he were sick. I felt a tinge of worry. But I slapped that away, angry with myself. Why should I care about that after all he’d done? I answered my own question, arguing with myself. Because I’m human. Not evil. And he’s my family, like it or not. “Up, Carol,” he repeated. And this time it wasn’t impatience. It was disgust, as if I repulsed him.

  “Where am I?” I mumbled, then realized I couldn’t move. My hands were secured by leather straps. I was in an old bed, still wearing my 1851 dress. Noelle, Ray, and the boy were in separate beds, all motionless. We were in that hospital room, Noelle and Ray also strapped in. Light streamed through two high windows, which meant we’d been out cold all night. The boy wasn’t strapped in, which surprised me. And why wasn’t he dead? Isn’t that why my uncle came back? To destroy the first Defender? To keep Santa from forming the group that would help him deliver toys and protect him?

  “You’re just where I want you to be,” Uncle Christopher said and he pulled back, his lip curled in a snarl. I yanked at my straps. I concentrated on trying to freeze him. But I spotted the machine, just like the ones that blocked our power in his world. He must have brought it from the future. I was helpless. Trapped.

  “What are you going to do with me?” I asked. “With us?”

  “Oh, I have big plans for you all,” Uncle Christopher said. He carried a staff, similar to the one he’d used in our Christmas Eve battle over the mountains of West Virginia. Only this one glowed and pulsed more powerfully, a deeper, uglier shade of green. Like the color of radioactive slime.

  “You’re going to kill us,” I said as the reality of our situation sank in. So this was how I would be defeated, how I would die. I’d failed Grandmother, Ray, Mr. Winters, Dad, Santa. I’d failed the entire world.

  Uncle Christopher placed his hand over his heart, as if he were aghast at the very idea he would harm us. “You think so lowly of me, Carol,” he said and smiled. A chill crept along my spine, as if it had been hiding under me on the bed and was trying to escape. “No, I won’t kill you. In fact, I plan on reuniting you with your dear father. You are family, after all. And one must always take care of family.”

  “What do you mean?” I shouted. “What did you do with him?” Noelle’s eyes popped open and she looked around wildly, yankin
g at the straps that tied her down.

  Uncle Christopher paid her no mind. “Let’s just say that time will be on your side. You might even live forever. That will be my final gift to you. Eternity.” And he laughed cruelly.

  I was hopelessly confused. My uncle was never the type to show mercy. I saw it in how ruthlessly he ran his toy empire, crushing rival companies and buying up smaller toy makers to absorb into International Toy. I saw it when he blasted Ramon out of the sky over the Dominican Republic. And again when he did the same to Santa and the Defenders and tried to do it to me. His heart was stone. The world he ruled with fear showed that. I couldn’t imagine him ever offering me a “gift.”

  Noelle couldn’t either. Even though this version of Grandmother knew nothing about my uncle, she saw right through him. “You found them, didn’t you?” she asked, barely more than a whisper.

  That confused me even more. “Who?” Grandmother always seemed to be two steps ahead of me, and her younger self was no different.

  “The missing elves.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Ah, dearest niece, you never were all that quick, were you?” my uncle said. “Never one to apply yourself in your studies.” I cringed, remembering how I struggled at Brower Academy. My uncle walked over to Noelle’s bed. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. Christopher Glover at your service.” He bowed, mocking the helpless elf.

  “Noelle,” she said. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

  “Who did he find?” I asked impatiently.

  “The elf’s wife and son,” Noelle said. “Your uncle figured it out.”

  Then the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. He had actually found the elf’s family. And if he knew where they were, that meant he knew how to get there. And that also meant he knew how to send other people there. “Dad,” I said softly.

  “Ah, now you’re catching on, Carol,” Uncle Christopher said. “Good girl.”

  “You put him there?” I asked, horrified.

  “That foolish elf thinks he’s the expert on time travel. But it didn’t take me long to master. It requires discipline, Carol, something you’ve always lacked. You get that from your father.”