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I SAT ON MY BED, STARING at the Witch’s Intuition spell. Suddenly realizing that my room had been cleared from all the chaos, I lay back against the pillow, stretching out my legs. I held the paper in front of me. It had been one thing to be excited about finding the spell so I could finally resolve the Naughty List, but it was a whole other thing to realize I needed to cast a spell.
A spell.
I didn’t like the sound of that one bit.
I placed the paper on my bed and wandered over to the window. The day seemed calm. The sun shone through hazy clouds, and the wind barely moved the soft snow. I looked back at the spell on the bed. An otherwise insignificant piece of paper possibly held the futures of so many children.
I closed my eyes, trying to calm my frantic brain. The outdoors usually calmed me. I opened my eyes, leaning closer to the glass, looking toward the front of the workshop. No one milled about. Perhaps for everyone’s safety, I was better off heading outside to try the spell where there was a lower chance that I would turn everyone into a newt.
Deciding this plan sounded better than no plan, I grabbed the spell off the bed, jammed it in the waistband of my leggings, and headed for the door. I needed a coat, then I needed to cast a spell.
Spell. Just the thought sent an involuntary shiver over my body. Coat, I told myself. Coat first. Then we’d think about the S-word.
I hurried through the halls, head down. I didn’t want anybody to stop me. I wanted no questions, no thoughts, no stares.
I came upon my grandmother’s room faster than I’d anticipated. I looked up and down the hall. Even though I only planned on borrowing a coat, I still didn’t need any watchful eyes. I tapped lightly on the door, trying to quietly announce my presence, even though I didn’t expect anyone inside.
A gruff and choked, “Hello?” came from inside the room.
“Hello?” I questioned, uncertain who else would be in my grandmother’s room.
When no one answered, I slowly pushed open the door.
Santa Claus sat on the edge of the bed. He startled as I entered, standing quickly.
“It’s just me,” I said, softly.
“Oh,” he sighed. He plopped heavily back down on the bed, his glitter puffing around him with diluted energy. His bright red outfit stood in stark contrast to the mess of chaotic clothes surrounding him. The room gave off a palpable sadness, mirroring the look on his face.
I went and sat next to him, and although I had only just met him, the draw I felt to him was unmistakable. I could feel the love I had for him, and he for me, as if love itself were a tangible being. My throat constricted as this big beast of a man turned his sorrowful eyes upon my face.
“She left,” he said.
I pulled his hand into my lap and held it tight. The joy that was him—was Santa—fizzled around in my senses, but it became so muddled within a pile of heavy loss, that I had to drop his hand from mine and move across the room.
I stared out the window—the window my grandmother had jumped through not a couple of days before. After so recently being empty, the front yard now bustled with activity. The scene appeared odd, though. Elves shuffled about, filling carts with unwrapped toys, but their movements were so stilted, it appeared they had been programmed to fulfill the tasks.
I felt their collective energy reaching out to me. I didn’t know what my grandmother had done to me by telling me I was a witch, but I felt something different inside of me. I was changing.
I could see it. No, I could sense it as a truth inside of me. The elves remained cheerful—they were elves, after all—but they moved robotically. They filled the carts because it would bring the children happiness, but their own happiness had been muted.
“What are they doing out there?” I asked, still watching them work below.
“It’s time to bring the gifts into town for the local toy drive, for children whose families can’t afford gifts, or for the kids who don’t have any families.”
Although this thought saddened me, a smile played on my lips, because not only did my grandfather play the role of Santa, but he also made sure he was a bit human, too. And then a thought hit me, “Shouldn’t people... I mean regular people, gift to these programs instead of you?”
I turned back to him, viewing his slumped shoulders. “People are not all as generous as they should be this time of year.”
“Oh.” I didn’t want to admit that I’d never once thought to donate to these programs. I guessed this time of year wasn’t when you wanted to think about people being sad or lonely.
He turned around to face me and said, “It was your grandmother’s idea. She was always the social one, going into town, joining the clubs. It’s especially hard on folks up here this time of year. It’s too cold outside for much work. Families just work on surviving.”
I looked back out the window at the elves and their modest winter attire. “It doesn’t seem that cold here.”
My grandfather heaved a heavy sigh. “Another one of your grandmother’s ideas. She has this entire area encased in some sort of meteorological bubble. It makes it easier on the elves. When they aren’t frozen, they’re more productive. The same goes for the reindeer.”
I looked at him, aghast. “Nana controls the weather?”
“Her lineage is extremely powerful. You’ll be powerful someday too.”
I came back around the bed to sit next to him, even though his emotions stirred my insides up something fierce. “Grandpop, we’ll get her back. I promise.”
“I just don’t know...”
“No!” I said, startling him. “I do know. I’ll figure this all out.” I continued, words racing from my mouth. “We can’t have you sad for another minute. If you’re sad, then I’m sad. The elves are sad too. I can feel it right here,” I said, rubbing my chest. “And then if I don’t get this Christmas thing figured out, all the children will be sad.”
I pulled the spell out of my pants and waved it at him as I stood. “Nana left me this spell. I’m going to start with that, and then I kinda need to figure out how to breach your Command Center. Any ideas?”
Santa shrugged his shoulders at me. Yet he appeared to enjoy my little tirade as a smile crept across his lips.
“Okay,” I said, pulling him to his feet and out through the door, “you go do your Santa stuff, and I’m going to learn how to be a witch. Deal?” Santa just stared at me in disbelief. “Deal?” I asked him again.
Santa’s lip curled into a half-smile. “Wow,” he said. “You are the spitting image of your grandmother. Right down to the bossy attitude and unmanageable hair. You know she’s hard on you because she knows you can do this, right? She pushes you so that you’ll push yourself.” My grandfather reached out and tried to tuck a curl back behind my ear. He gave off one of his Santa belly chuckles as my hair sprang loose and bounced down in front of my eyes again.
I snatched up that big jolly man into the biggest bear hug my scrawny arms could manage. When I finally let go, I was red-faced from exertion.
“Go,” he said, waving me on my way. “Go fix Christmas.”
Suddenly remembering why I had come to my grandmother’s room in the first place, I hurried back into it. I jammed her witch boots on my feet and donned a heavy winter coat and hat.
I ran down the hallway. As I passed my grandfather, I spun around to face him as I continued to move backward down the hall. “Do you know who that man was that the elves carried down the hall?”
My grandfather stopped dead in his tracks, and I skittered to a stop, almost tipping over as the boots clung so well to the slick floor.
“A full-sized man?” Santa asked. His eyes flitted nervously up and down the hallway.
“Yeah...”
“Our defenses are down,” his voice boomed. “He must have seen the elves. Oh dear, oh dear.” He started pacing side to side in the hallway as if moving faster made his brain work better. “Your grandmother should be here, figuring this all out. She did all this stuff.” He stopped his anxious pacing and instead raked his hand up and down through his beard in agitated movements. Then he looked up to me, solemn. “The last time our defenses went down, we had to zap the minds of every person in town.”
I look at him, horrified. “You did what?”
He shook his head in exaggerated movements, his nervousness obvious in every move he made. “No, not a blow-up kind of zap. I mean, erase your memory zap, or whatever it is she does to make the town forget when they see real elves and Santa and the reindeer.”
“Oh dear,” I said. “What are you saying? I should go find this guy and zap his brain?”
“No! I don’t think you’re quite at the zapping stage yet. You go work on the Naughty List, and I’ll try to think of something. But until then, it’s lockdown here. No wandering into town.” Santa walked away from me, but he suddenly burst out with, “Oh, no!”
I jumped and spun back toward him.
“The elves,” he said. “I can’t let them take the gift wagons into town. With our cloaking defenses down, they’ll look exactly as they are—a bunch of little elves delivering gifts!”
He hurried off down the hall in the other direction, and I called after him, “Tell them I’ll deliver the gifts later!”
I let out a heavy breath. If I had high blood pressure, it would be at the boiling point right now. I could feel the steam coming from my body. I stripped off my grandmother’s coat and headed toward the cafeteria. I needed to find a place where I could sit and think and attempt to cast this Witch’s Intuition spell. I supposed standing outside, trying to cast a spell when our cloaking defenses were down, would not be the best idea.