by J L Gillham
“Thank you,” I said while taking it. I inhaled a deep breath and forced a smile, not wanting to be ungracious to my guest, even if the timing was terrible. Where was Finn going to mention? Egypt, England, Oklahoma? “Should I open it now?” Normally, I didn’t open presents in front of people. I hated the obligation of having to fake joy.
“Open it. Open it!” she shouted. That was when I saw a woman, her grandmother possibly, placing a hand on the little girl’s shoulder. The kid didn’t seem to notice.
Finn grinned as he watched the interaction. I pulled out two white mittens stuffed with painted pinecones, twigs of juniper berry, and miniature paper snowflakes. The mittens dangled from a green ribbon. “It’s lovely.” I was grateful the smile I gave wasn’t faked. “I was just heading to my room for a moment. I am going to hang it on my door,” I said as the little girl hugged me.
A second later, she pulled away, took her grandmother’s hand, and led the woman to the punch bowl. I watched as the little girl pointed delightedly at all the treats.
A boy wearing a wreath around his head like a crown tapped the girl on the shoulder. She turned and faced him. That’s when I noticed a popsicle stick protruding from the front of the wreath like a diving board. On the end of it, there was mistletoe. The image of an anglerfish with its fishing rod on the top of its head to lure in prey came to mind.
To my surprise, instead of running away in horror, the little girl gave the boy a kiss on the cheek. Then, he was the one who fled, screaming, “A yucky girl kissed me.”
Finn bit his lip, then leaned forward. “You know, Nicky’s a good friend, but he’s not the reason I hang out in Winter Wonderland so much. My dad always gives me a hard time about how long my deliveries here take.”
My eyes bulge. Did he mean he’s here for me?
“Finn!” shouted Nicky from off in the distance. He turned to face Nicky and waved.
“You go talk with my brother. I’ll be back,” I said. I chuckled as I made my way to my bedroom. After securing the gift to my door, I touched up my makeup. When I returned, I heard Finn chatting with two girls about me. Blending into the shadows, I eavesdropped. “Yeah, I finally found out the biggest secret in all of Winter Wonderland,” Finn whispered just barely loud enough for me to hear him.
I clasped my hand over my mouth. It couldn’t be. Surely he wouldn’t share with them about Ebenezer.
“Oh, tell us,” one girl chimed in. Her dark blond hair was so long it reached halfway down her back. Even though this was a party, the attendant was dressed more like it was prom or some royal banquet, with the length of the train of her dress an entire foot long.
“Otherwise we won’t believe you!” the other girl with chin-length black hair added. She wore a simple outfit but had pearl earrings and a matching necklace that classed up the look.
What I should have done was confront the three of them and kicked them out. Instead, I cowered in retreat.
Cole came to check on me a half hour after I ran and hid in my room. To cheer me up, we changed into less formal outfits and took a sleigh ride with Tiny. By the time we marked off two squares on my grid, my mood had gone back to normal.
THE SUDDEN MOVEMENT of Finn waving at me pulls me from my memories. Wave back, I tell myself. But I can’t, because I am like a snowman whose arms don’t move. It’s at this time I realize I’m still gaping. I shut my mouth but keep staring.
They’ve already finished unloading the whale blubber by the time I arrived.
“Noelle,” Finn says, then grins.
Nicky doesn’t bother to glance up.
“Um, hi.” I wave, then look down at my feet. It’s at this point I realize how un-stealthy I am. My dark boots stand out in the snow. I should have dressed in all white, not all black
“How’s Tiny?” Finn looks around.
I don’t have to answer. Tiny rushes toward us. A polar bear full stride is a terrifying thing—at least, any polar bear but Tiny. He lets out a loud groan. Nicky cuts off a slice of the meat and tosses it to the ground. Tiny gobbles it up in seconds. Then the boys carry the entire crate to the ground and tilt it to the side so all the food empties out.
“I’ll have to come back with more tomorrow, it looks like.” Finn grins as he watches Tiny feast.
“What happened to Mr. Sander?” I ask about our usual delivery man.
“He caught a cold. I’m filling in for him all week.” Finn turns toward me and holds my gaze. I frown, then watch Tiny.
“We haven’t had much time to take care of this wild beast lately because of all the Christmas preparations.” Nicky leans down and rubs behind Tiny’s ear. The white bear doesn’t pause from his eating.
“Never in my life would I believe something so fierce could be so tame.” Finn chuckles as he stares at Tiny.
“A real terror.” Nicky rises. “How’s your sister?” Nicky doesn’t face Finn as he asks.
I stare at Nicky. When did he become friends with Aurora?
“Keeping pretty busy waitressing. I was thinking of having her come with me tomorrow. Wouldn’t hurt to bring the payload on two snow mobiles.” Finn rubs the back of his neck.
Nicky nods his head but doesn’t answer. I make sure not to move so they don’t remember I am only standing a few feet away. A plan is already forming in my mind. All I have to do is add a clothespin to my go-bag and clip it to my nose before I hide in the crate. I can curl up as tight a ball as needed. Then once I’ve made it to the local town, I can grab a flight out of the local airport and go anywhere.
“How ’bout a round of snowball soccer?” Finn asks suddenly.
It was the game Nicky invented during one of our play dates years ago. Every three minutes a layer of snow is added to the ball. If you kick it so hard it shatters, you lose automatically. Once the ball is ready, each boy makes a line in the snow about a hundred feet away from the other. The compact snow they are playing on makes it so the ball doesn’t pick up too much snow as it rolls. Nicky begins building a tennis size ball out of snow.
“Ready?” Finn shouts.
I watch from the sidelines. If I wasn’t the future Santa, maybe I could be a professional soccer player. I spend all of thirty seconds imagining myself kicking a ball for ten hours a day before deciding that’s not the right job for me either. Being a zookeeper seems more appealing. Or maybe a singer if I could get over stage fright.
I sigh, wishing I could make my own choices like Finn. I know most people would love growing up in this magical place and jump at the chance to become Santa. If only I could be excited about my lot in life.
After twenty minutes, when Nicky kicks the ball his foot gets stuck. I watch as he tries to pull it out without breaking the ball. No luck. The makeshift ball crumbles. “Winner!” Finn jogs over to Nicky and pats him on the shoulder.
Nicky shakes his head and sighs. “How ’bout a hot drink before hitting the road?” Nicky asks. Both boys head in the direction of the kitchen.
“Princess Claus, want to join us?” Finn waves at me.
I stick my tongue at him for using my nickname, but I fall into step with the duo. “So, how far is the town from here?” I ask in the most carefree voice I can manage.
“About five miles. Straight shot west.” He rubs his hands together.
“Any local airports?” I keep up pace, but don’t look at him in my attempt at getting intel. My heart pounds.
Finn glances at me, his expression inquisitive. A slow grin forms on his face. I turn my head away so he can’t see me blush.
Nicky stops, places his hands on his hips and stares at me. I meet his gaze and glare. Instead of antagonizing me, for once he just shakes his head and resumes walking.
“Uh, yeah.” Finn doesn’t elaborate. “Hey, do you have that special hot chocolate? I can’t remember what you call it, but there’s nothing like it.”
Nicky nods his head slowly. “I know the one. A hint of something that is not quite cinnamon and not quite nutmeg.”
“That�
�s the one,” Finn says as we enter Homebase.
A minute later we near the cafeteria. “Wait here.” Nicky glances in Finn’s direction. “I have to go in to the kitchen for what you are wanting. And, well...” Nicky pauses. “The elf Aelrindel doesn’t like strangers in there.”
Finn nods. Once Nicky is out of sight, Finn picks up a toy resting on the table and begins inspecting it. “What's this?” He points to a set of three snowflakes sketched into the bottom of the wooden truck.
It only takes me a moment to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh, that's probably the signature of the elf who made the toy.”
“The signature?” He glances at the etchings suspiciously, then looks at me with one eyebrow raised.
“It's a language written in snowflakes.” I shrug.
“Wow, that's amazing. Can you teach it to me?” To my surprise, there isn’t a hint of teasing in his tone.
I let the word “amazing” roll around in my mind. “Uh, sure, I guess.” I walk over to an empty table, pull out a square piece of wrapping paper used as scrap paper, and a pen. I scribble the alphabet from A to Z on the blank side. Then I begin explaining, starting at letter A. “See how this snowflake has eight large and eight small diamonds? It’s the only one.” I move on to letter B, noting its more iconic snowflake look, then continue. When I get to M, I pause and look up at him.
Finn stares at the snowflakes like they hold the answers to every question ever asked.
I clear my throat. “And this is M, my favorite because of its twelve clovers.”
“Didn’t know you have a thing for weeds. Guess I know better than to buy you flowers.” Finn chuckles.
For a moment, I think about the conversation I eavesdropped on during my birthday celebration last year. I make sure he sees me roll my eyes. Then I focus on finishing the rest of the shapes. “Done,” I say as I finalize Z.
“Awesome. Can you write my name in snowflakes?” He leans closer to me and peers over at the paperwork.
“Sure. That’s simple,” I answer, then laugh.
“Nothing is simple about that. This place has so much magic and wonder to it.” He looks around as if taking in all of Winter Wonderland.
While I finish, I get stuck on thinking about the word “wonder.” Magic, yeah, I’ve heard that plenty. But wonder?
Satisfied with my snowflake letters, I tear off his name and hand it to him.
“Thanks, but do you mind if I keep that?” He points to the snowflake alphabet.
“Since it’s not a secret,” I say with all the annoyance I can put into my voice. I hand the entire sheet to him. He folds it up carefully and puts it in his pocket without saying anything.
I stand there awkwardly, looking from the door to the kitchen to my boots. Part of me wants to confront him about what he said at my party last year. And by confront, I mean kick him out of Winter Wonderland permanently. Another part of me wants to confess my love. I ball my fists and take a deep breath to convince myself there’s no love left to confess.
I am about to lean against the wall to look nonchalant. However, between Finn and the door to the kitchen is one of the many life-sized nutcrackers that are scattered around Homebase.
Instead of making small talk, I inspect the wooden man. And that’s when I see it.
“Um, what are you doing?” Finn’s voice comes from behind me.
I get down on my hands and knees. As I run my finger across the parallel grooves in the floor, Finn sinks down beside me. When I look up at him, I realize our faces are only inches apart. I open my mouth to speak, but his nearness catches me off guard. The scent of his cologne tickles me nose. I sneeze, and unfortunately, it’s a direct hit.
“Sorry,” I say, going to wipe his face with my sleeve. Before I can, he turns and rubs his face on his jacket.
“Guess I’ll have to lighten up on the cologne.” He chuckles.
That’s when I realize the smell is anything but a pleasant one. Instead of a store-bought odor, what I’m smelling is more like a dirty sock doomed for eternity when it falls behind the washing machine and is left for years.
“That smell,” I say, the thought more like a question than a statement.
Finn sniffs. “I’m getting a whiff of your perfume. That and something musty or...” Finn trails off as he notices the grooves I inspected a minute ago. He rises and moves his hands along the smooth wood of the nutcracker.
He pulls down on one of the arms. Suddenly, the nutcracker lurches forward with a screech.
CHAPTER TEN
Too late, I try to crab walk backward. It plows right into my knees. Finn reaches in my direction to help me for the second time today. I’m too excited about what we discovered to shrug off his help, and so I let him pull me up. I drop his hand as soon as I’m standing.
“Where do you think it leads?” Finn takes a step into the shadows of the secret passage.
“I bet I know.” I follow behind him, the light of the hallway illuminating the path for about thirty feet. Fortunately, I have my utility belt with me. I pull out a black elastic strap with a headlamp attached, but instead of wearing it, I hold it out in front of me. With a click, it turns on.
“Always prepared, huh?” Finn asks. He falls in step with me. The passage is barely wide enough for the both of us to be side by side.
We get to the ending a minute later. There is a lit, square-shaped border. And I instantly realize where we are. How could I have forgotten about the secret passage through the painting? For once, I’m glad Finn intruded into my day.
I press my hand against the square. The painting of the Northern Lights spins slowly. Finn peeks his head out into the hallway for a moment, then turns and begins the return walk. I pull on the painting to close it.
When we are halfway back, I notice a hole dug into the wall. It is only about four feet up and has a miniature nutcracker inside. Finn inspects the little man while I shine the light on it. He wraps his entire hand around the object, and when he pulls it, part of the nearby wall opens revealing a new way to go.
“Stairs?” I had no idea there was a basement in this building. As I lead, I wonder what the purpose of it is. When we get to the lower level, there is only one way to go. We follow the corridor.
“Can I see that for a second?” Finn reaches toward me.
I hand him the light and watch where he shines it. “What in the world?” I say. Taking up the entire wall from floor to ceiling are openings. They are about five feet long and only one foot high. The opposite side of the wall has the same shapes.
“Reminds me of the catacombs in Paris,” Finn says matter-of-factly. I think back to a picture I saw. There were similar-looking, hollowed-out spots where the deceased were put to rest, except the catacombs here are inlaid with stone. Finn scans every square, most likely looking for bones.
I join him as he walks. A chill runs down my spine. Just then I hear a long windy howl but feel no breeze. I grab Finn’s arm. When he declares we are the only two people down here, living or dead, I exhale a deep breath. That’s when I realize I’m still holding his arm. I let go and brush my hands on my pants, pretending to wipe away dirt.
At the end of the path is a door. Finn yanks on it, but it doesn’t budge. He shrugs and steps back. Then he offers the flashlight to me. Instead of taking it, I step past him and tug on the handle. I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe that he’d loosened it and the door would open for me. And inside would be a neon sign that says “Secret passage out of Winter Wonderland.”
With a huff, I take the light, and begin jogging back. Finn catches up to me, and I’m grateful he doesn’t ask me why the hurry. I tell myself my flight has nothing to do with the fact that this might be some empty burial ground. However, as we make our way to the still-open entrance and past the life-sized nutcracker, my racing heart returns to its normal rhythm.
“We made it in time,” I say. I hunch over, catching my breath. Finn leans back on the wall.
“In time for what?�
�� he asks.
Instead of answering, I rise and pull down on the nutcracker’s arm, watching as it backs up. A moment later, Nicky steps outside the kitchen. He eyes me curiously.
“Didn’t know standing around was so exhausting.” He stares at me while handing one of the two mugs he’s holding to Finn. Then Nicky takes a tentative sip from the other.
“Here, you can have mine.” Finn tries to pass his drink to me.
I frown as I glance at Nicky, who could’ve easily grabbed three drinks. He busies himself blowing onto his hot drink.
With a quick eye roll, I turn on my heels. “That’s okay. I’ve got work to do.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Halfway to my room, I come face to face with Dad as he rounds a corner. Fiddle-d-fizz.
“Princes Claus.” There is weariness in his voice. It catches me off guard. I was expecting anger, annoyance, or anything but weariness. Once Dad nears, to my surprise he gives me a brief hug, then pulls away.
For the two seconds that I pressed my face against him, I realized my cheeks finally stopped burning from the rash. I relax a little as I allow Dad to put some space between us. I’m about to teasingly ask him if my punishment for a successful albeit short-lived jailbreak is not being the next Santa. However, his sigh makes all my rebellion deflate.
“When you become the next Santa this Christmas—” Dad begins.
I cut him off. “Why does it have to happen now? You’re still technically Santa until...” I pause. When will I be ready? I bite my lip as I realize the answer. Never. “Can’t I wait until I have to take over? You can stay Santa for another ten or twenty years at least!”
He rubs the back of his neck. “When I was about your age I had to take over for my father. It was much earlier than planned. But it turned out to be for the best.” As he talks, his tone lightens. Maybe he thinks if he can carefully craft his response and say it in a soprano’s range, I’ll go along with it.
“Your mom and I decided a long time ago to give you an early start, to give you some real-life training with me delivering gifts on Christmas. That way you aren’t dropped into the role without enough training.” After finishing his well-rehearsed answer, his smile doesn’t meet his eyes.