by J L Gillham
While I’m still standing and before Dad has a chance to sit, I hold up my hand. “Wait!” I lift up the bench seat. “Nope, no elves hiding inside.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Dad laughs, then we both sit. A moment later Dad cracks the reins and yells, “Yah!” Tiny goes from a standstill to a run in seconds. Moments later we are lifting into the air. I turn and wave at everyone below. Nicky is giving me a thumbs-up. Everyone else is cheering and waving back.
I can’t help it and brace myself as we near the magical barrier. As we pass through it, there is the familiar feeling of wading through water but feeling completely dry. Once through the other side my heart rate returns to its normal rhythm.
“Dad.” I place my hand on his arm.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about. I wasn’t much older than you.” He pats my hand.
“Um, thanks. But that’s not it. Can I pick where we make our first stop?” The idea came to me earlier today right after defeating Ebenezer.
Instead of responding, Dad gives me the reins. I take them. “Yah!” I steer Tiny in the desired direction.
Once the polar bear has landed on the roof, I face Dad. “Um, so.” I don’t know how to ask my question. No, that’s not it. I don’t want to ask the question.
“Want me to take the lead on the first few houses?” Dad asks.
“Please.” I clasp my hands together, no longer feeling embarrassed for my nerves that feel as solid as cupcake frosting.
Dad takes a rope out of the sleigh, ties it to the chimney, then begins climbing down inside. I peer over the edge to get a better view.
“Watch this,” Dad says, right when I think he’ll get stuck in the chimney.
I gasp as he begins shrinking. “No way!” I shout, then clasp my hand over my mouth, hoping I haven’t woken anybody up. So that’s the type of magic a Santa gets? I can barely see down to the bottom of the fireplace, but it’s enough to get a glimpse of Dad giving me a thumbs-up. I stretch my arms and legs as if I’m about to compete in the Olympics, then lower myself.
At the same point that Dad made a miniature version of himself, about one fourth smaller, I pause and focus. As I exhale a deep breath, I imagine myself shrinking, and I do.
As fast as I can, I shimmy down the rope. When I’ve made my way out of the chimney, I shake like a wet dog who’s just been given a bath. Imagining myself full size, I expand until back to normal.
“Congratulations,” Dad whispers, then gives me a quick hug. I shrug as if to say it was nothing, but I hope he doesn’t realize I’m still shaking with nerves.
The living room has a small, plastic Christmas tree in the corner. All of the decorations are handmade out of popsicle-stick people and paper snowflakes. There’s no television and the two sofas don’t match.
On the green couch lies a sleeping beauty, Carly. The moment I see her, the fullness of the Christmas spirit fuels my soul. I know it’ll be enough to keep my tank from running out before we are done tonight.
Just then, she sits up and stretches. “Focus on becoming invisible,” Dad whispers. He takes my hand. I look down at it to see both his and mine fading from sight. I bite my lip to not scream.
This is an ability Dad has kept from me all these years. Has he ever spied on a conversation I’ve had with Finn? And worse than that, the idea of being invisible makes me feel like a ghost. What if I can’t ever become visible again?
With a quick glance around the room, Carly falls back asleep. When Dad lets go of me, we both become visible. I shake my arms like they fell asleep and are pulsing with that pins and needles feeling. “Why don’t you practice that without me?” Dad says while he places the gifts under the tree.
I shake my head in response, but Dad is too busy to notice. I think I’ll avoid that ability as much as possible.
“I don’t recognize this one,” Dad says as the third gift rises from the bag, floating in the air before him.
“You can levitate things?” It takes all my energy not to shout with excitement. I watch as the third gift hovers then lays down resting next to the others. I recognize the white box wrapped with a red ribbon instantly.
As I respond, I stare at Carly. “Just a little something from me.” She is curled into a tight ball. I want to leave her with not only my gift under the tree, but something special. It’s a last-minute decision I’d made before leaving. How do I do it without waking her?
I think about practicing becoming invisible, but I am not ready for that yet. Instead, I get an idea that may or may not work.
Not wanting an audience, I glance over my shoulder to see Dad is preoccupied with inspecting the treats. I try lifting the box he just magically put down. Nothing. Then from my back pocket I pull out Carly’s unique invitation that has a little something extra. Each person in town will get a similar one tonight, minus Carly’s note from me. Then I focus with all my might. Brow furrowed, I bite my lip and hold the paper in my palm. As I focus, the paper levitates and begins to fly.
“Oh, darling. You’ve got to try this,” Dad says.
In that instant, my folded paper dips and rises as it arcs toward Carly. Then, at the last moment, it glides into the tiny crook of her open hand.
When I turn to face Dad, he is holding up a half-eaten cookie. The sweets that only seconds ago had all of his undivided attention are now forgotten.
“You can move things with your mind already!” My father rushes toward me and wraps me in a hug.
“Um, guess so.” I am glad he can’t see my wide eyes and the thin band of sweat forming on my forehead. He releases me and walks to the plate, but hesitates. Instead of taking a bite of anything else, he rubs his belly. “I’d better save some room for the next million or so cookies.” With a wink, he heads toward the chimney.
I try lifting the stuffed animal that’s fallen on the floor with my mind, but have no luck. Then I try to lift the cookie out of Dad’s hand. “I can only levitate paper,” I whisper with a hint of disappointment.
No time for a pity party tonight. I make a beeline for the food. The sugary treat’s plain appearance is deceiving since it has hints of amaretto. I snatch all of the carrots and place them in my pocket. Next to the treats is a small cooler. I open the lid and peer inside. There is a glass jar of milk resting on a bed of ice.
“Now that’s milk I can drink,” I say, wishing Jolly was here. He’d be proud of me finishing my first house. Although, pride in me is something I’ve never witnessed Jolly show. I pause for a moment, thinking about how much easier the simulations will be from now on since I have my Santa abilities. Then a thought occurs to me.
A few minutes later I’m back roof side again. “Dad, does this mean I’m done with simulations?”
“What’s the fun in that?” He holds his hands out in front of him, palms up. “I refrain from using my magic during them. You’ll have to do that too. Otherwise, the competition wouldn’t be fair. And besides, it’s good to not get rusty doing things the old-fashioned way.”
I chuckle as I realize how different my life will be, my new-fashioned life. Then I offer Tiny the carrots. He sniffs and turns his head in disapproval.
“Eat up. You’ll need the energy,” I say. He glances back at my healthy treat and obliges, making loud crunching sounds as he chomps down.
As we move from house to house, I get lost in the rhythm. Every so many homes I give myself permission to take an extra moment to admire the decorations. No longer feeling nervous about my new Santa magical powers, I use them. The night is filled with laughter between my father and me, and paper-wrapped boxes soaring around living rooms.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
When Dad and I return to Winter Wonderland, the entire three floors of Homebase are covered from bottom to top in alternating rows of red and green Christmas lights. A smile fills my face; however, with the illumination comes revelation. My shoulders sag when I see the giant pile of half-burned logs that were once homes. The elves have moved all of the smoke-soaked stru
ctures into one giant collection.
“Don’t worry. There’s plenty of room for everyone in the main building. And we’ll get the log cabins rebuilt in no time.” Dad’s voice is upbeat. It sounds genuine, but I’m sure it’s only for my sake. I don’t respond, but stare at the evidence of the mess I’ve made.
After Dad lands the sleigh, he faces me. “You did amazing. Now go get at least a few hours of rest before your birthday ball.”
“Thanks,” is the only word I speak. I can barely keep my eyes open as I trudge toward my room.
“Finally!” I shout once inside my bedroom. The bed makes a whoompf sound as I fling myself on, boots, Santa suit, and all. There’s no need to ask Dad for more of his magic sleeping powder today. I make a mental note to ask Dad if I have the ability to make that powder now too. I’m so exhausted that I’m asleep within seconds.
“Darling, time to get up,” says a familiar voice what feels like a few minutes after I’ve gone to bed.
I blink and look around the room, which is easy to do since I left the lights on when I got home. I rub my eyes and sit up. With a quick glance at the clock, I realize I’ve been out for eight hours. “Come in,” I mumble.
I must’ve been loud enough, because a moment later Mom enters carrying two extra-large mugs. Normally, I love chai with breakfast, but after the long night I had and not being able to get another twelve hours of sleep, the cup of coffee offered is perfect. We sit in silence for a few minutes, each of us savoring the warm drinks. Finally, I pull off my boots. “Think I’ll shower.”
Mom nods. “Of course, but make it quick.”
I let the warm water relax my aching muscles. Once done, I wrap my damp hair in a towel after putting on a robe.
“Is it alright if I style your hair?” My mother looks as if she’s asked me for an extravagant favor.
“Sure.” I plop down in my chair and let her blow dry then pin up my hair. As I admire it, she pulls a gown out of my closet. “Where did that come from?” I rush toward it. The red dress tightens and loosens in just the right places. Velvet material make me second guess having a comforter made out of cotton. “Mom, you shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t.” She looks toward the door.
“I couldn’t help myself.” Aurora comes into the room.
My heart sinks. I look from the girl to my mother, both wearing twin expressions of joy. Then, after another glance at the dress my mother is still holding, I put on a smile. “It’s spectacular.” What I don’t say is that we need to have a serious talk about Aurora’s newly discovered flirtatious ways. But that can wait. At least until tomorrow. “Thank you,” I say, then give her a genuine smile.
She claps her hands together. “Oh, you’ll look so lovely.” Both Aurora and my mother help me into the dress. Aurora cinches it and steps back.
“You truly are a wardrobe genius. It fits perfectly.” I take a slow twirl and look in the mirror appreciatively.
Then I notice the odd-shaped item dangling from her necklace.
“It’s a piece of the meteorite from the beach.” She fingers the small chunk of black rock. As she does, she sighs loudly, I’m sure because she’s thinking of my brother.
Aurora approaches as if to give me a hug, then stops herself. I assume she doesn’t want to wrinkle my dress. With a wave, she turns and runs out of my room. “See you at the ball!”
“You have a kind friend.” Mom appraises me from head to toe. A smile is replaced by a frown when she gets to my hair.
“What is it? Do I need to let you fix a hair out of place?” I want to look perfect tonight, not just for myself but for Aurora too.
“Are you planning on wearing your holly and berry crown?” Mom sits on the end of my bed, unworried about wrinkling her mint-green sleeveless gown. Her hair is up in an elegant bun. She glances around.
“Actually...” I pause, then smooth down my dress. Mustering all my courage as I look in her eyes, I speak. “I gave it away.”
She doesn’t frown or question my motives. Instead, she rises and walks out of the room.
I stand and lift my skirt, readying to run after her to explain. The last thing I meant to do was hurt my mother’s feelings. However, before I’ve made it more than a few steps, I hear her voice.
“Thank you,” she says to someone who must’ve been waiting outside. Mom returns to the room holding a velvet box.
I gasp. “Oh no. I couldn't possibly.”
As she lifts the lid, tears pool in my eyes.
“You're ready.” She pulls out her crown, covered in emeralds, diamonds and sapphires.
“So, you’re not mad I gave away the one you made me?” I have to ask, otherwise I’ll worry for the rest of my life.
“I’m sure the lucky girl who received it deserves it, just like you did all those years ago.” She lifts the crown up and places it on my head.
I tense, but let out a breath as Mom adds a few pins to keep the crown in place. “It’s got some weight, but it’s lighter than I expected.” I give the side a ghost of a touch.
“Oh, and one last piece.” Mom points to what looks like a tennis-ball-sized basket made out of black coiled weaving. I recognize the container, which lets me know it’s probably from Finn. I know that both he and Aurora made a variety of objects out of baleen at school. There are even a few baskets of varying sizes for sale inside Finn’s family diner. They are similar looking to the one resting on my table.
That wasn’t on my bedside table before I showered. I don’t hesitate to lift the lid. Inside is a necklace with a silver snowflake charm hanging from the center.
Mom puts it on me. “It seems as if you have an admirer.” Her eyes moisten. She has a faraway look, like she’s seeing me as a toddler learning to walk for the first time. That’s when I notice the card and glance at it. There are no words on it. Just a hand-drawn heart.
“Cole would make an amazing husband,” Mom says.
I bite my lip, disappointed she doesn’t think it might be from Finn. My feelings for Cole haven’t morphed into anything romantic. And, I am beginning to worry that they never will.
“Mom! I am way too young to think about that,” I respond, not bothering to inform her who I believe it’s really from.
The look that shadows her face is one of hesitation mixed with fear. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” I take her hands in mine.
She shakes her head slightly in response and gives me a forced smile. “Your father and I married ‘too young’ and it worked out splendidly.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to,” I argue, wondering why she’s pressing the issue. I expect her to agree with me, but instead she releases my hands and rises.
“I’d better begin greeting the guests. See you in a few minutes.” Without another look in my direction, she leaves.
Her sudden exodus surprises me—that and the last part of the conversation. I make a mental note to ask her about it tomorrow. Tonight is for celebrating. I can take one evening off of sleuthing. Well, at least I can try.
As I glance at myself, I wonder how Ebenezer is doing in the room at the end of the hall on the floor below me. Three elves will guard him tonight and every day from now on. It’s been decided he’s too much of a menace to let loose.
Though part of me wants to question the evil elf for myself, I know my parents want me to stay far from him. I told them I would, but knew it was only a half truth. My entire life was formed around protection from the ill will he wished. How could I keep from interrogating him?
All of the elves are invited to the ball, but I know most will take tonight to celebrate with each other at The Jingled Pub. An entire year of hard work to bring cheer to children is a major accomplishment. They’ll be encouraging each other to prepare for the rough year ahead.
And although Ebenezer’s plans have been foiled, the devastation he left will take some time to repair. I’m not sure how the elves and my family will accomplish fixing everything, but tonight is not the night t
o worry about that.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I decide I can’t stall any longer and leave the quiet of my bedroom. A minute later I pass the kitchen, which for once doesn’t have smells wafting out. Since we didn’t want to add any work to the already worn-out elves, Mom’s idea to make the ball a potluck was brilliant.
I continue on my way and soon see Nicky in the hallway to the left. He is on a ladder hanging what appears to be mistletoe. I am about to tease him about bringing Aurora here, when I realize that might be a bad idea.
Nicky and I are getting along for the first time in our lives. But I have my doubts about Aurora. Instead, I take the hallway to the right, even though the journey adds an extra two minutes to get to the destination. I don’t mind. It’s not as if I’m dreading the rest of the evening. In fact, I can’t wait.
However, what if my idea about how the crack in the dome above can be healed is wrong? And, what if none of the townspeople came? Maybe they think I did a terrible job delivering gifts to their houses and decided to boycott this event as a result.
As I near the banquet hall, the loud murmur of chatter jars me from my thoughts. It’s so noisy I realize at least my fears of no one coming were unfounded. I walk toward the entrance to of the hall and wink at Geir. Instead of wearing his apron, he’s dressed in fancy trousers and a vest; however, he still has on his hat with the crocheted cherry at the top. He nods, then escorts me through the doorway.
“May I have your attention please,” he says. “Introducing Princess Claus, the new Santa!”
Instead of walking to the center of the front of the room, I head toward Aksel standing to the side and hold out my hand for the microphone. He offers it to me and frowns, probably unsure of what I’m doing.
Tonight wouldn't have happened without a very special person. I scan the crowd, hoping I won't be speaking about someone absent.