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Hope entered the bazaar, her children’s hands fisted in hers. The place was teeming with people. “Winter Wonderland” was blasting through overhead speakers. Booths were arranged in aisles. As Hope weaved her kids through them, she peeked over her shoulder. Snake and Shaggy and their cameramen were hot on her tail. Red Beard and his camerawoman were trailing them.
“This way.” Hope maneuvered Melody and Todd around a cluster of adults with children. Near the décor aisle, she said, “Duck, kids. Hide with me.” She steered them beneath the table of the vendor selling handmade stockings.
As they huddled, Hope said, “Remember, you two. You have each other’s backs. You are each other’s advocates. No one, other than me, will stand by you like the two of you will.”
“Yes, Mom,” Melody said.
Todd echoed her.
When Hope was confident she’d eluded the reporters, she said, “Okay, let’s get up. But be alert.” She scrabbled to a stand and scoured the area. The reporters and camera crews were gone. But she wouldn’t give up her vigil.
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Steve shot through the arch of twinkling boughs and pulled to a stop. Lincoln collided into him and apologized.
The scent of pine, cocoa, and cotton candy was intoxicating. Lights twinkled everywhere. Steve held a hand above his eyes to block the glow and scanned the area. Hundreds of people were mingling about. All were smiling. There were three aisles of booths. Which one had Hope and her kids gone down? He spied the reporters to his left, on the hunt. He trailed them and slowed when the heavily-tattooed reporter pulled to a stop and mimed Cut to his cameraman. When the shaggy-haired female whacked her cameraperson on the shoulder, and the remaining red-bearded reporter bent over, clutching his chest, Steve whirled around. Were they done? Giving up? Were there others? He didn’t see any more predators.
“Steve, look!” Lincoln pointed away from the reporters. “Candy apples. Can we get one?”
“Go for it.” He handed Lincoln a five-dollar bill. “I’ll stay right here.”
Lincoln trotted away.
Steve wiped snow off his face and hopped up and down trying to get a view of each aisle. He couldn’t see squat. He hustled to a workman on a ladder who was fixing a string of dormant lights and motioned to the ladder. “Can I climb up?”
“Not now. Too busy.”
“Twenty bucks is in it for you.”
The workman scuttled down and held out his hand. Steve paid him and moved the ladder backward about five feet. He clambered to the top and surveyed the activity. He couldn’t spot Hope or her kids anywhere. And then he did. In the décor aisle. Scooting from beneath a table.
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Breathing easier, believing the newshounds had dispersed, Hope took in her surroundings. What a wealth of joy surrounded them. Vendors populated each aisle, their booths decorated to the max and filled with handmade goodies. Felt elves. Stuffed snowmen. Elaborate snow globes. Glittery ornaments. Due to their limited funds, she hadn’t ventured into the bazaar in years, but it hadn’t changed much since she was a girl. Fondly, she remembered strolling through the bazaar with her mother and caressing each item.
“Melody and Todd, you can pick one thing apiece,” Hope said. “Under twenty dollars.”
“The stocking I told you about for me,” Melody said. “This one.” She lifted it off the vendor’s table.
Hope paid for it. While waiting for the vendor to wrap it, she glanced nervously over her shoulder. No reporters. Nobody gawking. Maybe if she and the kids spent a long enough time in the bazaar the reporters’ thirst to question them would abate. They didn’t know where she lived, did they? Surely Steve wouldn’t have given out her address. None of the creeps had mentioned the trailer park. One had said she lived in a car, not a camper. Silently, she prayed it wouldn’t dawn on them to stake out the café and follow her.
“Take your time deciding, Todd,” she said, as she mulled over what to do. “Take all the time you need.”
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Quickly, Steve ceded the ladder to the workman and grabbed Lincoln, who was merrily biting into a candy apple.
“Did you get a napkin?” Steve asked.
“Uh-uh.”
“Dope.”
“You’re the dope. Can I keep the change?”
“Knock yourself out.”
“That would hurt.”
As they passed another food vendor, Steve swiped a napkin. “Next time think ahead.”
“Next time, you think ahead,” Lincoln sniped. “Where are we going?”
“I want to catch up to Hope.”
“She’s here?”
“Yep. With her kids.”
“Why do you want to catch up to her?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
Steve glanced sideways at his brother. Lincoln was not being cheeky on purpose. He truly wanted to know. “Just because.” He didn’t want to go into detail.
“Mom says because is not a good answer.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.” He turned back to get a bead on Hope and gasped. “Oh, no! She’s gone!”
“I see her.” Lincoln pointed. “By Santa’s Village.”
Relief swept over Steve when he spotted her, too. “Good eyes, bro.”
The village was stationed at the far end of the bazaar. The land was a riot of red, white, and green, and dusted with fake snow. Elves with huge pointy ears, floppy hats, and striped costumes were guiding children into a long waiting line. A booth serving hot cocoa stood to the right. Another booth offering caramel corn and cotton candy was to the left.
Santa, seated on an ornate gold chair, shouted, “Ho-ho-ho!” to a child approaching him.
Lincoln said, “He’s a better Santa than you.”
“Ah, man!” Steve slapped a hand to his heart, overacting. “How can you say that to your very own brother?”
“He’s happy, and he’s smiling more.”
“I smile.”
“It’s a fake smile.” Lincoln mimicked him. Lips tight. A sneer in his eyes.
Steve grunted. “Okay, that’s enough critique. I need you on my side.”
“I’m on your side. I’m on your right side.”
“Yes, you are.” Steve grinned. “But now, I need you to be quiet.” He put a finger to his lips and beckoned his brother. “Follow my lead.”
“I already am.”
