by A. G. Mayes
“No,” she said. “There’s something I want to show you.” I got in the car.
“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Aunt Erma ran to the pie shop. She only seemed to have one speed, fast. A minute later she reappeared with her dog Mitzy close at her heels. Mitzy was a brown ball of fluff with expressive eyes and boundless energy. Her large brown eyes showed that she understood when you talked to her. Sometimes I found that a little unsettling.
Aunt Erma opened the back door and Mitzy hopped in. Her tail was wagging so hard I thought she might take flight.
“Mitzy loves a good car ride,” Aunt Erma explained. She heard her name and somehow took it as an invitation to leap from the back seat and into my lap.
“Hi Mitzy,” I said flatly. I loved Mitzy, really, but I was still getting used to this furry licking creature who lived life like she did a shot of espresso every hour.
Aunt Erma drove through Hocus Hills. The town looked like Father Christmas had thrown up on every street corner. Lights twinkled on every tree and bush and along the front of every shop. I didn’t see a single door without a wreath and a very elaborate winter wonderland had been set up in the town square complete with nine reindeer, several elves, and Christmas fairies. There were banners all over town advertising the snowman building contest happening next weekend. “Erma’s Pies” was one of the sponsors, and Aunt Erma had been making me practice my snowman building skills for the last two weeks.
“The middle is not round enough,” she’d said about one of my practice snowmen that I’d built in the park next to the ice rink.
“But it’s getting kind of cold out here,” I’d said. “Can I try again tomorrow?”
“One more time,” she said. “The competition is fierce, and we need to make a good showing of it.”
“But I can’t even win since we’re sponsoring.” I could hear a little whine in my voice, and I was ever so slightly embarrassed, but being this cold made me revert to my young self.
“I know we can’t win, but we have to build one in support of the competition, and we can’t embarrass ourselves either,” she said taking apart my snowman. It turns out that when it comes to snowman building competitions, Aunt Erma is like the worst overbearing pageant mom out there.
“Can’t we just use magic?” I asked as I carefully rounded out the middle ball.
“Magic is forbidden at these competitions,” she said. “At least until after the judging when everyone makes their snowmen dance,” she giggled. “Lena made hers twerk last year. I didn’t even know what twerking was until then.”
“Yeah, Lena’s pretty hip.” I rubbed my hands together through the mittens before reassembling my snowman.
Aunt Erma took a step back and sized it up. “Not bad,” she said with a curt nod. “Tomorrow we’ll work on making the perfect facial expression.”
“Great, can’t wait,” I said a little flatly.
We drove out of town and hit the highway.
“Where are we going?” I asked. The car was finally warm, and I sank back into the brown velvet seats of Aunt Erma’s old light blue car. Mitzy had settled down in my lap. Her previous excitement seemed to be wearing off.
“You’ll see,” Aunt Erma said. She turned up the volume on the radio and Christmas songs filled the car. She sang “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” at the top of her lungs. I’d learned how to sing from her — off key, but enthusiastic. Her enthusiasm was infectious and soon I was singing too. Mitzy groaned disapprovingly and moved to the back seat of the car. I would have to remember this trick whenever Mitzy was annoying. Sing loud, and she’ll leave. Who would have known?
We exited the highway and turned down a narrow, wooded road. Then we turned down a narrower dirt road and finally Aunt Erma pulled over as far as she could, which wasn’t far on this skinny stretch, and put the car in park.
“Is this it?” I asked, looking around expecting to see something more than trees and snow.
“Yes. Follow me.” She got out of the car, and Mitzy flew over the seat to follow her. I got out and wrapped my red coat tighter around my body. I shivered against the cold air.
“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing yet?” I hurried to keep up with her. She was half a foot shorter than I was and twice my age, but she walked so fast! I’d asked her how she walked so fast before. Was it magic, I had asked her.
“Not magic,” she winked at me. “Yoga.”
I really had to start going to more of Mr. Barnes’s yoga classes this winter. Or I was going to have to stop walking with Aunt Erma.
Mitzy was frolicking in the snow and still managed to keep up with Aunt Erma. I hopped over sticks and tried to step exactly in Aunt Erma’s footprints, so the deep snow didn’t go over the edge of my short boots. We didn’t seem to be following any path, and I couldn’t imagine a house would pop up in this deserted woods. Aunt Erma stopped so abruptly and I was hurrying so fast behind her that I bumped into her, unable to stop my momentum.
“Sorry,” I said, scratching my nose which had bumped against her tall fuzzy white hat.
“We’re here,” she said with a satisfied nod.
“We’re in the middle of the woods,” I said, glancing around wondering which of us was going nutty.
“There,” she pointed ahead of us.
I squinted and saw a small tree that had green and red and silver balls hanging from the branches. Even in the dead of winter, it still had all its leaves. The winding branches danced in the breeze and the baubles tinkled together.
“What is it?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t just answer with the obvious “tree.”
“It’s a magic tree,” she said, providing an ever so slightly better explanation than I was hoping for.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why does it have ornaments on it?”
“I decorated it for Christmas,” she said with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders. I nodded. That was a very Aunt Erma thing to do. Then I wanted for more information. She carefully touched one of the leaves, and the branches began to rustle a little harder. That was strange, the wind hadn’t picked up.
“You’ve probably heard a few murmurings around town about how powerful my spices are,” she began slowly.
“I’ve heard a thing or two,” I answered.
“I’ve always been pretty powerful,” she said. She wasn’t bragging, just stating a fact. “However, I found a way to be more powerful.” She gestured to the tree with a flourish of her arm. “It came to me in a dream one night. After I saw it, I woke up, got in my car, and somehow, I just knew where to go. I ended up here. This tree contains more magic than I ever even knew existed. You can feel it.”
She grabbed my hand and put it on the trunk of the tree. I felt the tingling of power course through my body.
“How does it work?” I asked. I held my hand there even after she took hers away. I was enjoying the feeling of power.
“For some of the spices, I scrape off a little of the bark, and for others, I use the leaves,” she said. “It’s tricky with this much power to get the intention just right. That’s why I keep it simple. Some of my spices spread love. Some happiness. Some make people more helpful. I never do anything big or complicated because the more complicated the magic, the more likely it is that something will go wrong. And when magic goes wrong it can get really ugly.” She shuddered a little.
“What do you mean?” I asked. I wanted specifics. I was tired of all of this, “Things can go bad with magic” stuff. I needed answers now.
“Ok, I’ll tell you a story.” She thought for a minute. “A while back when an elf was running a factory. Well he was part elf, like we’re part fairy,” she added. “If he was full elf he would look like an elf, pointy ears, the whole bit, but there are many of us who are part something, and we can just blend in with people who are one hundred percent human.”
I nodded. I began to worry that this was going to be a long-winded story, and it was cold outside. I looked around for Mitzy. She was still frol
icking around the trees. Maybe it was because she was enjoying it. Maybe she was just trying to stay warm.
“His factory made clothing,” Aunt Erma continued. “And soon greed got the best of him. He used magic to produce more and more clothing. He made his workers move faster and faster until they were collapsing in the factory. Then to make matters worse, the clothes started acting up.”
“The clothes acted up?” I asked, incredulously.
“Yes, sweaters were opening and closing closet doors, socks were banging against the side of dressers. It was a disaster. People everywhere were panicking. There was a huge rush on exorcisms.” Aunt Erma shook her head. “The magical enforcement team was busy for months un-enchanting all of the affected clothing and altering people’s memories, so they thought it was all a strange dream.”
“Good story. Can we go back to the car now?” I was jumping up and down trying to keep my blood from freezing in my veins. I looked down. My feet were still there, but I could no longer feel them.
“Yes, yes, let’s go back to the car,” she said scooting back through the trees. Mitzy eagerly followed us.
“Why did you take me here?” I asked, a little breathless as I struggled to keep up again.
“I wanted you to know where this was. In case anything happens to me,” she said, matter-of-factly.
I stopped in my tracks. She was about a hundred feet ahead of me before she realized I wasn’t following anymore. She turned back. I started walking again, and she waited for me.
“Is this really that dangerous?” I asked, trying to keep the quiver out of my voice.
“We’ll be fine,” she said firmly. “Plus, we have a vicious guard dog on our side.” Mitzy yipped in agreement. I tried to smile, but I couldn’t shake the anxious feeling hanging over me.
Chapter 3
My head was spinning during the drive back to the pie shop. My thoughts began to blur as the car warmed up. Mitzy settled in my lap. The snow melted off her fur and was soaking through my pants. My eyes snapped open. “They aren’t going to turn you into a cat again, are they?” I asked.
“No, they wouldn’t do that again,” Aunt Erma reassured me as she merged onto the highway.
“Does the Morning Pie Crew know about the magic tree?”
She shook her head. “You’re the only one I’ve told. It’s safer. The fewer people who know, the better.”
“But I thought you guys shared everything.” I couldn’t help but feel a little proud to be in on the secret, but it scared me a little too.
“Everyone has secrets,” she said. She pressed her lips together and kept her eyes fixed to the road.
I stopped prying. I stared at the road too until we got back to the shop. The crowd had gathered outside again, and people began to stir when they saw Aunt Erma’s car pull up to the curb out front.
“Come in, everyone,” she said as she shuffled between them to unlock the front door.
“Someone was looking for you.” Nadine, one of our regulars, whose blonde curly hair was always gathered in a poof on top of her head said to me. As far as I could tell, her job in town was to spread gossip.
“Oh yeah? Who?” I asked following her through the door.
“I don’t know. Some guy.”
“Henry?” I asked even though I figured he would call me if he were looking for me.
“No, some curly haired guy I haven’t seen before.” She shrugged.
“I guess this mystery man will have to come back if he wants to talk to me.” I went back to the kitchen and stopped in my tracks.
“Mom,” I said.
“You recognize me. I’m so touched,” she said, barely looking up as she sliced a peppermint cream pie. My mom’s brown hair was just a shade lighter than mine. Unlike mine, it was smooth and perfectly styled on her head. Instead of her usual business suit, she wore jeans and a dark green sweater.
My mother had gone back to the city a couple weeks after Aunt Erma had become human again after being a cat. We had a wonderful week where our days were full of baking and gossiping. We were a regular holiday special. Then the bickering began, and the comments under our breath, and my mother decided she had to get back to her clients at home. I didn’t blame her. It was a lot of intense family time after a long absence.
“She’ll be back soon,” Aunt Erma had reassured me as I had watched her car drive away with a lump in my throat. I had been enjoying the gossiping and reminiscing. It had been so long since I’d seen my mother laugh that much.
That was less than two weeks ago, and here she was again. I guess I didn’t have anything to worry about.
“Erma called and asked me to come help at the pie shop while you guys went on some sort of mission.” My mother began cutting the next pie more forcefully than was actually necessary.
“We have to go…,” I began.
“No,” my mother cut me off still keeping her eyes on the pie. “I don’t want to know. I know it has to be dangerous. I could tell from Erma’s tone. It’s best if I just worry here instead of knowing the specifics. I’ll just serve pie and worry.”
Ah, my mother the martyr.
“How long are you here for?” I asked.
“I booked a room at the inn for three nights, but we’ll see,” she answered. My mother preferred to stay at the local inn instead of squishing into Aunt Erma’s apartment with us.
Aunt Erma had already fulfilled the orders of the crowd out front. The angry grumbles had turned into happy chattering as people drank their free cups of coffee and talked about their holiday plans.
“I’m taking my cats to see Santa,” someone said.
“My sister is coming to visit with her four children, and they’re all staying in my one bedroom apartment,” I heard someone else say.
“My husband is in a Christmas play, and he wants me to go watch all twelve performances,” another voice chimed in.
I heard a familiar voice say my name. I saw him in the crowd, but it didn’t register because he was a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. I was shocked and speechless for a moment.
“Josh,” I finally managed to croak reaching out to hug him.
“Hey, Susie,” he was warm and smelled like sawdust. He held me for a second longer after I had let go.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, taking a step back to look at him. His dark curly hair had gotten a little long. He had dark circles under his brown eyes, and his usually rosy cheeks were pale. “Is everything OK?”
“Hal has me working at a big remodel in Mavisville,” he said. Mavisville was just the next town over. “It should take a couple of weeks.”
“That’s great. We’ll definitely have to get together a few times,” I said.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
At least four people in the store stopped their conversations to openly stare at us.
“Let’s go outside.” I grabbed the sleeve of his coat and led him towards the front door.
“Who is that?” I heard someone whisper loudly as I opened the door.
“Beats me. I’d bet an old boyfriend,” someone else said.
I glared over my shoulder in the general direction of the voices. Josh and I had been coworkers back home. We had grown to be good friends, but it was never anything more than that. Josh was the one I’d call when I was having trouble with a relationship, and I would give him insights on the people he dated whether he asked for it or not. I hadn’t really talked to him since I’d left — just a couple quick text messages that didn’t really say much.
I wrapped my grey sweater more tightly around myself and faced him. I thought longingly of my red coat hanging on the hook at the back of the kitchen. Why had I suggested going outside? The mid-December wind was biting against my skin. Oh yeah, outside was the only place we had a shot of not being eavesdropped on. However, if anyone could lipread, we were in trouble. All of the customers in the shop were blatantly staring through the window. They might as well have their noses pressed against the gl
ass.
I took a couple of steps back toward the flower shop next door so we were at least a little out of sight. I’m not sure there was anywhere completely out of sight in this town though.
Josh stared at the ground for a minute.
“Is everything ok?” I asked again. I wanted this to hurry up, so I could get back to the toasty warm kitchen.
“So, you live here now?” he asked looking up and down the street.
“I think so,” I said with a shrug. “I haven’t really figured it out long term yet. I live here for now, I guess.”
“I’m glad you got to reunite with your aunt,” he said. Josh had heard my sob story more than once about my long-lost Aunt Erma. Usually it was after a bad day at work or a fight with my mom and a few beers.
“Yeah, it’s been nice,” I said. It was silent for a minute, and I was about to tell him I had to go back inside.
“You didn’t even say goodbye to me,” he said suddenly meeting my eyes for the first time since we’d gone outside.
“What?”
“We were friends. Maybe more. At least I thought we were,” he said the last part more to himself than to me.
I opened my mouth. Nothing but air came out.
“Was I just imagining it? I kind of thought we were on track to get together. I thought you felt it too. Hell, I’ve loved you since I saw you fix that hole on the side of the Morrow’s house. You were fearless at the top of the ladder while the rest of us were too chicken to climb that high.”
I remembered that job. I had been terrified too, but I was new at Hal’s Handyman Services, and I wanted to show off in front of my new coworkers. Afterwards I’d had to excuse myself to the side of the house where I promptly threw up in the trash can. I thought back to my time with Josh. Had I missed the signs? Sure, we had been good friends. I would even consider him to be one of my best friends. I hadn’t meant to drop him when I came to Hocus Hills, but finding my long-lost aunt, discovering magic is real, and trying to squash an evil plot to take over the world all takes up a lot of one’s free time.