A Slice of Christmas Magic Read online

  “What happened?” I asked. My heart was still racing.

  “Someone was in here.” Mr. Barnes paused to take a deep, cleansing yoga breath. “They stole from me.” He waved his arm around as though he was going to say more, but he didn’t.

  “I think it was Stan.” I pointed to the jacket. “I’ll call Violet.” I had her on speed dial now. Violet appeared quickly, still in her business suit. I wondered if she had any lounge clothes. I imagined her in flannel business suit pajamas.

  “I went to the diner to grab a bite to eat,” Mr. Barnes began. “When I came back I lit a few candles.” He was pacing across the studio now. “Why didn’t I turn on the lights? I was trying to relax.” He answered his own question as he rubbed his hands through his hair.

  “What happened next?” Violet prompted.

  “I just started doing my nightly yoga exercises when I heard something and headed toward the light switch. That’s when someone bumped into me.” He walked over to Stan’s jacket and kicked it across the floor.

  Mr. Barnes and Violet talked about the spells that were thrown back and forth during the fight, most of which I hadn’t heard of.

  “He took my carving.” Mr. Barnes pointed to a shelf on the wall where he’d had a carving of a gnome doing the splits. I had noticed it during the few yoga classes I had taken. Mr. Barnes said it was supposed to provide inspiration, but I thought the smiling gnome mocked my lack of flexibility every time I tried to touch my toes.

  “Why would he do that?” I asked. It seemed like a lot of trouble to go to for a gnome.

  “Erma gave it to me,” he said.

  “It had some of her magic in it,” Violet explained when she saw I still didn’t understand. “She might have let something slip when under the spell that led them here.”

  “She gave it to me to protect my studio and promote calm within these walls.” He was still looking at the empty shelf. My eyes widened as I wondered if it was carved out of wood from the magic tree. Could they locate the tree by using the gnome? I clamped my mouth shut to keep myself from asking my questions out loud.

  “We’ll find it.” Violet put her hand on Mr. Barnes’s shoulder in a rare display of affection. “I’ll let you know when I know something.” And with that, she was out the door.

  I left a few minutes later, after making sure that Mr. Barnes was all right. “I’m fine. It’s nothing a little herbal tea won’t fix,” he said.

  When I stepped outside, the snow was deep with the flakes falling so fast and thick, I could barely see Mitzy in front of me. I knew I would never be able to make it to the magic tree in these conditions. I would have to try tomorrow.

  Or maybe Aunt Erma would be better by tomorrow and I wouldn’t need to go, I thought hopefully.

  Chapter 10

  Dear Elodie,

  Last Christmas, my mother gave me a necklace that had belonged to her mother and her mother’s mother, all the way back to my great-great-great-grandmother. It was a beautiful gold pendant with stars and a tree engraved on it. I was thrilled when I received this family heirloom. My mother always said I couldn’t be trusted with nice things, and when she presented the gift, she warned me to be very careful with it because, if I lost it, the ghost of my great-great-great-grandmother would come back and curse me.

  You can probably see where this is going. I wore it to an event the other night because it went so perfectly with my outfit and I’m a firm believer in not letting things just sit in a drawer and collect dust. I was on my way home when I realized it wasn’t around my neck anymore. I looked everywhere in the car and even went back to the venue and searched on my hands and knees. The staff there tried to help, but no one found it.

  Now I’m not sleeping and feel sick with worry. Worry over telling my mom. Worry that my great-great-great-grandmother will come back and curse me, and worry that I really can’t be trusted with nice things.

  Do you know any tricks for locating something that’s lost? How do I get over this guilt and get on with my life?

  Sincerely,

  Lost and Never Found

  Dear Lost and Never Found,

  The first thing you have to do is remind yourself that accidents happen. Heirlooms can be wonderful ways to connect generations, but they can also be a burden when people end up with things they’re so stressed out about losing that they never use them.

  The second thing you should do is explain to your mother what happened, and brace for what might be a less than ideal reaction. It sounds like the worry over telling her is eating you up, and you should just get it over with.

  The third thing you should do is try social media. If you have a picture of the pendant, post it on social media, specifically engaging with people who were at the event with you. Maybe someone picked it up without realizing the significance of it.

  Maybe you and your mother could go out together and look for something that could be the new family heirloom. Every heirloom has to begin somewhere.

  As for your great-great-great-grandmother, I hope she would understand. If nothing else, maybe she’ll curse the person who took the pendant instead of cursing you.

  Ask and I’ll Answer,

  Elodie

  Early the next morning, I held my breath as I slowly pushed the blanket off and carefully put my foot on the floor. My mother had stayed over to help me keep an eye on Aunt Erma and she was now curled up asleep on the purple chair next to me. I had begged her to sleep on the sofa, saying I would sleep in the chair, but she’d refused, which made things difficult.

  I’d figured she would sleep more soundly on the sofa, but also that I would have a slightly better chance of sneaking out in the morning to go to the tree as my mother was a very light sleeper. The kind of person you’d want around if you were sleeping in a cave wary of a bear attack, but not the kind of person you’d want around if you were trying to sneak out. I had tried to sneak out a few times in high school when I was going through my wild-child phase, but I wouldn’t even get to the front door before my mom was yelling, “Susanna Penelope Maxine Bennett Daniels, where in the world do you think you’re going at this hour?” If I’d been a more daring teenager, I would have used the time she spent saying all five of my names to make a run for it.

  I crept over to the window. Mitzy stirred in Aunt Erma’s room. Don’t ruin this for me, dog, I thought. As though she could hear my thoughts, she settled back in.

  I pulled back the edge of the curtain. The snow had stopped, and there was just the faintest light in the sky. Good. I should have time to find the tree and get back before everyone woke up.

  I was tiptoeing to the door when the phone rang. My mother leapt out of the chair.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. Her hair stuck straight out on one side of her head and her eyes were wild with panic.

  “It’s the phone. I’ve got it,” I said. The whole apartment was awake now. I cursed whoever was calling as I hurried over to answer it.

  Flora was on the other end of the line. “Violet called. She wants you and Lena and I to go check out Lily Ridge,” she said. Lily Ridge was another nearby town. “It looks like the IMPs have struck again.”

  “Already?” I groaned. This was a lot to take before I had my coffee.

  “Can you be ready in five minutes?” she asked.

  “Do you guys really need me?” I asked. I was still hoping to go find the magic tree.

  “Violet thinks we might need your magic, and she doesn’t think they realize how bad Erma is. Mr. Barnes will help your mother at the pie shop,” she said. “Bring some of the spices. See you in five.”

  I explained the situation to my mother as I threw on some jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, and my jacket. I quickly splashed some water on my face and pulled my mess of hair back into a low ponytail before shoving a knit hat on my head. Downstairs in the kitchen, I opened the latch on the sparkly wooden box with the swirly designs where Aunt Erma kept her spices, and I grabbed a few bottles. When I got outside, Flora was already w
arming up her SUV. I had been surprised when I first found out Flora drove such a big vehicle.

  “Books are heavy and take up a lot of space and sometimes I have to transport a lot of them,” she’d explained. “And I wouldn’t be able to do that if I drove a teensy little car like yours.”

  Lena came flying out of the front of the hardware store. She had just thrown boots and a coat over her red flannel pajamas. She skidded to a stop by the SUV before jumping in. “What is with these people?” she asked breathlessly. “Can’t they take a few days off so we can enjoy the holiday season?”

  “How could they not know how bad Aunt Erma is?” I asked. “They did this to her.”

  “They probably think the effects were just temporary. And if they do figure out that she’s as bad as she is, they might try something bigger,” Flora explained.

  I thought about the tree and how it might fix everything. I desperately wanted to tell Flora and Lena about it, so they could help me, but I had made a promise to Aunt Erma. I knew she wouldn’t understand if I broke her trust. Even in a dire situation like this.

  I sighed and leaned back in the seat. Warm air was blowing out of the vents, and my eyelids felt heavy. Lena and Flora were talking strategy. I shook my head a little to wake up.

  Apparently, the security cameras showed the residents of Lily Ridge gathering for a large cookie-baking day.

  “That doesn’t sound any stranger than having a snowman-building contest,” I said.

  “It is when it happens at four in the morning,” Lena said.

  “Good point.”

  “Their magic could be stronger too, since they took that carving from Mr. Barnes’s studio,” Lena warned. They thought Aunt Erma had bought the magic wooden carving during one of her grand traveling adventures.

  “Violet is worried that they’ve made more progress with their altered spices, and they want to do a widespread test of the effects, so they’re doing it with cookies,” Flora said.

  “Oh, for Christmas’ sake, what is their obsession with cookies?” Lena said.

  We had a basic plan in place by the time Flora was pulling into a parking lot near the local Lily Ridge grocery store. I was going to begin sprinkling Aunt Erma’s original spices in the cookie dough. The magic in our spices was supposed to counteract the magic in the altered spices. Flora and Lena were supposed to start bagging the cookies that they’d already baked so we could get rid of them.

  It was pretty easy to track down where everyone was. We just followed the smell of cookies. After all the drama with Alice last month, the thought of cookies still made me shudder, but they sure did smell good. My heart wasn’t beating quite as fast as it would have a week ago. This time I felt ready for battle. My emotional armor was getting thicker with each magical encounter.

  I clutched the bottles of spices tightly in my hands as we walked towards the door of the bakery. It was a white stucco building. A large dark blue sign hung over the door. The words “Eastside Bakery” were painted in bold white letters. The door was propped open, but when we stepped inside, it was warm even on this frigid morning.

  This scene was different than the chaos at the church where they were knitting the mitten. This time all of the people were focused and intense. They were working quickly and efficiently. That couldn’t be good. They were definitely improving their spells.

  We got to work. Flora fluffed up a couple of garbage bags, and she and Lena grabbed cookie sheets and dumped them into their bags. I was a little jealous that they had the fun job. After Alice, I felt as if it would be satisfying to dump a bunch of cookies into the garbage.

  I went to the giant mixer on the side of the kitchen that was mixing up a large batch of light brown dough. I sprinkled a healthy amount of Aunt Erma’s spice number five in it. I carefully approached a man wearing a chef’s hat, who was rolling out a large sheet of dough. There were two men and a woman next to him. They were wearing their pajamas and cutting out shapes with cookie cutters. They all gazed at their work intently, pressing their cookie cutters down in quick systematic movements. I slowly reached in front of them to sprinkle spice on the dough they were working with.

  “You’re not supposed to be here.” The man rolling the dough glared at me sharply. He had curly reddish-brown hair and a goatee. He was probably a lovely person when he wasn’t under a spell. I glanced at Lena. Was this a normal part of the spell? Lena’s pinched eyebrows clued me in that it wasn’t.

  I felt a layer of my confidence dissolve.

  “This must be a new addition to the spell,” she said, just as a giant wad of cookie dough hit me in the face. Before I had time to see where it came from, the cookie dough was flying at me fast and furious from every direction. So far Lena and Flora had gone undetected. Voices kept yelling, “You’re not supposed to be here.” I threw another dash of the spice on the cut-outs on the table and dodged the flying dough when I could. I added a little spice to the open bag of flour for good measure and then ran out the front door. And straight into Josh.

  “Your aunt told me you were here,” he said.

  Darn truth spell.

  “This isn’t a great time,” I said, wiping a giant glob of cookie dough out of my hair. I glanced behind me. No one had followed me out.

  He surveyed me as though realizing for the first time that something was off. “What’s going on here?”

  “Nothing, just a food fight,” I said with a nervous chuckle, and I led him away from the scene in case anyone decided to check to make sure I was gone. We went around the corner, and I saw he had parked his dark blue truck next to Flora’s yellow SUV. Once we were a safe distance away, I said, “So what’s up?”

  “I can’t have a serious conversation with you when you’re covered in … What are you covered in?” he asked.

  “Cookie dough.” I felt a blob slide down my back and shifted uncomfortably. “It’s part of this small-town Christmas scavenger hunt.” I waved it off as though any further explanation would bore him. “How’s the job going?”

  “Good,” he said. “They’ve changed all the switch plate covers six times, but hopefully this time they’ll stick.”

  Lena and Flora rounded the corner, each dragging four bags of cookies.

  “Start the car,” Lena yelled. I didn’t have the keys for the SUV, but I ran to help them. Josh was right beside me and grabbed three of the bags. People poured out of the bakery, running towards us. The bags wouldn’t all fit in Flora’s car, so we threw some in the back of Josh’s truck. Somehow in the chaos, Lena ended up in Josh’s truck, and Flora and I were in the SUV. We all sped off seconds before the mob reached us. I felt exhilarated by our escape and bounced up and down in my seat.

  I hoped Lena would be able to explain this all to Josh. I didn’t envy her being in that position, but she was a smooth-talker.

  During the drive, I apologized several times to Flora for getting cookie dough all over her car seat. She assured me she could clean it off in no time. When we got back to Hocus Hills we pulled the cars around behind the pie shop so we could dispose of the bags of cookies in the dumpster. Aunt Erma must have heard the commotion because she stuck her head out.

  “Hi, Aunt Erma,” I said, hoping beyond hope that she would answer me normally.

  “Sometimes I steal rolls of toilet paper from restaurants,” she said.

  “Thanks for sharing.” I let out a disappointed laugh. Lena and Flora joined in, glancing uneasily at Josh. We threw the bags in the dumpster. Aunt Erma sized Josh up.

  “You don’t belong in this world. You’re not safe here,” she said. He raised his eyebrows and looked at me.

  Flora quickly ushered Aunt Erma back inside. I grabbed Josh by the corner of his sweatshirt and led him back towards his truck.

  “She’s been really stressed out,” I said. “I don’t think she’s sleeping very well.” He politely accepted this explanation. “Just a sec,” I said, and I jogged over to Lena. She was just about to go inside too.

  “Hey, I h
ave something I have to go take care of,” I said in a low voice, eyeing Josh meaningfully.

  “Say no more.” She nodded knowingly. “We have things under control here.” She disappeared inside.

  I went back over to Josh. “It seems like you’re busy. Maybe we can talk another time,” he said.

  “Yeah, we’ll talk soon,” I said. I was about to give him a hug when I realized I was still covered in cookie dough. So I just waved instead. I took this opportunity to run to my car. I was going to find the magic tree.

  I shook off as much cookie dough as I could. A lot of it had dried and fell off in sugary crumbs. I turned my coat inside out so I wouldn’t get the seat too dirty – my poor car had been through enough in its long lifetime – but a little dough still smeared across the seat as I slid in. I was trying to keep a low profile as I drove through town, so I crouched down as though that would keep people from recognizing me. As if the loud mufflerless red car certainly wouldn’t tip them off.

  I merged onto the highway and tried to visualize which exit Aunt Erma had taken. I glanced in my rear-view mirror and noticed a big dark green car behind me. It had been behind me for a while. Was I being paranoid? This kind of thing only happened on television. Then again, the people on television who were being followed usually dismissed the danger because they told themselves that this kind of thing only happened on television. Then something unspeakable happened to them. I switched lanes, keeping an eye on the green car in my rear-view mirror. It didn’t switch lanes. I let out a sigh of relief and turned my attention back to finding the tree.

  This exit looked familiar. I pulled off and drove until I found a dirt road. Had there been a rock on the corner last time? I didn’t remember a rock.

  I turned around and tried a different road and then a different one, but I couldn’t find the spot. I got out of the car a couple times to wander through the woods. I even tried calling to the tree. I felt a little silly calling to the tree as though it were a dog, but this was a desperate time. I thought the tree would give me something, somehow show me where it was hiding. I listened in the wind for the delicate sound of the baubles clinking together, but nothing.