A Slice of Christmas Magic

All of our heads turned towards Aunt Erma. Her eyebrows were pinched together with worry, but she quickly rearranged her features into a brave face.

“If they want me, they’ll get me,” she said with a determined edge to her voice.

Chapter 2

Dear Elodie,

Last week my cousin and her two young daughters were over at my house. I fed them a meal and snacks and drinks and made sure they had games to play with. When they left, I found my favorite porcelain duck statue in pieces and stuffed behind the sofa cushion. I called my cousin to confront her about it, and she denies that her daughters did anything wrong. No one else has been at my house lately. I’m blown away. I wasn’t looking for any monetary reimbursement, but I did expect an apology. I’m so mad right now, I don’t ever want them in my house again. How do I get past my anger if they won’t apologize?

Sincerely,

Decapitated Duck

Dear Decapitated Duck,

One word in your letter stuck out to me – confront. You called your cousin to confront her? Were you aggressive right off the bat? Sometimes when people feel attacked they respond with hostility. Yes, they should have admitted their wrongdoing, but maybe you should also re-examine how you handled their mistakes. Work toward forgiveness because your anger is hurting you more than anyone else.

Ask and I’ ll Answer,

Elodie

The room erupted as everyone protested at once.

“I’m going with her,” I yelled over the noise.

“Neither of you is going anywhere until we figure out if this is a trap or not.” Flora pulled out her stern librarian voice that made me shrink back a little.

“I have to go,” Aunt Erma said, almost matching Flora’s firm tone. “I’m best suited for the job since it’s my magic they’re altering. You know how dangerous it could be if they’re successful. For everyone.”

“We’ve been looking for them for months,” Violet added. “Now we’ve seen them twice in one day? They must be gearing up for something.”

Everyone was silent for a minute.

“Susie, I’m not sure you should go, though,” Lena said. “I think I should go along with Erma.”

I bristled a little at her slightly condescending tone. I might be new to this magic thing, but I knew I could be helpful. I had taken karate for three years when I was in elementary school, and kickboxing for four years in college. There were some problems magic couldn’t solve and I was ready to face them.

“We should all go,” Mr. Barnes chimed in.

“That might draw too much attention,” Violet said.

“Susie will come with me,” Aunt Erma said firmly. “We’ll go and see what’s happening and report back.” Everyone nodded. I noticed that when Aunt Erma talked, people tended to agree with her.

“And I’ll keep an eye on you through the security cameras,” Violet said, pointing at the computer screen. She had paused the image on Dennis and Brenda, and I glared at them, trying to build up my confidence. If I could keep myself from being afraid of their image, then I could definitely take them on in person. I tried not to think about Brenda’s eyes.

“I’m going to need a little time to get ready,” Aunt Erma said. I saw calculating curiosity in Violet’s eyes.

“Fine,” she said with one curt nod. “But hurry.”

We emerged from the basement and headed our separate ways. Something about the way Flora hugged me before I left made my stomach clench. How dangerous was this going to be?

“Come with me.” Aunt Erma grabbed my hand and led me to her car.

“Are we going now?” I asked, unable to keep the panic out of my voice.

“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 appeared with her dog, Mitzy, close at her heels. Mitzy was a brown ball of fluff with boundless energy. Her large, expressive brown eyes reacted when you talked to her, showing a level of understanding that I often found 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. The dog heard her name and somehow took it as an invitation to leap from the back seat 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 as if she did a shot of espresso every hour.

Aunt Erma drove through Hocus Hills, which currently looked as though 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 also banners all over town advertising the upcoming snowman-building contest. “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.

We drove out of town and hit the highway.

“Where are we going?” I asked. The old, light blue car was finally warm, and I sank back into the brown velvet seats. 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 energy 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 to sing loudly next time she was bugging me.

We exited the highway and turned down a narrow, wooded road. The dark green pine trees contrasted beautifully with the white snow and silver bark of the birch trees. The trees got thicker and we turned down an even more narrow dirt road. The tires crunched against the gravel and I bit my tongue, trying to resist the urge to ask where we were going again. 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 opened the door 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 was sure her speed was the result of some sort of magic, but when I’d once asked her she’d winked and said, “It’s not magic. It’s 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 but still managed to keep up. 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 building would pop up in these deserted woods. Where in the world could she be taking me? Aunt Erma stopped so abruptly and I was hurrying so fast behind her that I ran 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, just a few feet taller than me. It had green, red, and silver baubles hanging from the branches. Even in the dead of winter, it still had all its leaves. The leaves were thick and waxy and almost looked fake, and the light brown bark seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. 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: “A 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. “What’s a magic tree, and 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. She carefully touched one of the leaves, and the branches began to rustle a little harder, which was strange, as 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. That was definitely an understatement. Aunt Erma’s magic was one of the most talked about “secrets” around town.

“I’ve always been pretty powerful,” she said. She wasn’t bragging, just stating a fact. “However, I found a way to be even 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.

“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. You know, promoting feelings of love and happiness. I never do anything big or complicated like the Drakes are trying to do. 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.

“Okay, I’ll tell you a story.” She thought for a minute. “A while back there was an elf who 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.”

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 frolicking around the trees. Maybe it was because she was enjoying it. Or maybe she was just trying to stay warm.

“His factory made clothing,” Aunt Erma continued, “and soon greed got the best of him. There are some magical people out there who believe we should be using our magic to exert power over others. He used magic to produce more and more clothing by making his workers move faster and faster until they were collapsing. 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 Magic Enforcement Team was busy for months un-enchanting all of the affected clothing and altering people’s memories, so they thought it was all just a strange dream.”

We filled our pockets with some leaves and a couple twigs from the magic tree.

“Why don’t you bring a bunch back with us?” I asked. “The more magic we have, the better, right?”

“It doesn’t quite work that way.” She carefully plucked one more leaf and held it up to me. “These parts of the tree slowly begin to lose magic once they’ve been harvested. If we harvest too much, they’ll just be tree bits by the time we get around to using them.” She carefully tucked the leaf in her pocket next to the others. “Plus it would be dangerous to have too much magic at the pie shop.” She looked up at the tree. “It’s already dangerous with what we have.”

“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. I was trying to process what Aunt Erma told me, but I was pretty sure I’d need to be warm before it would really make sense.

“Yes, yes, let’s go back to the car,” she said, scooting back through the trees. Mitzy eagerly followed us.

“Why did you bring 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 it 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 threatening to suffocate me.

Chapter 3

Dear Elodie,

I think my roommate is trying to control my mind. I catch him staring at me sometimes intensely for long periods of time. When I ask him what he’s doing, he ignores me and continues to stare. Usually I leave the room. Sometimes I even leave the apartment. The strangest part is after I catch him staring at me, I often have the urge to do his laundry or wash his dishes. That has to be coming from him, right? How do I stop him?

Sincerely,

Mind Meld Man

Dear Mind Meld Man,

It sounds like you and your roommate should spend some time apart. Maybe far apart, like in different apartments. Otherwise I’d recommend wearing a tinfoil hat and hoping for the best.

Ask and I’ ll Answer,

Elodie

“I’m coming with you.” I could hear Lena’s voice loud and clear even though Aunt Erma’s cell phone was pressed to her ear.

“Now, Lena,” Aunt Erma began in a tone I knew meant she was about to try and talk her out of it.

“I said I’m coming,” she roared. “So help me, Erma, if you don’t get back here right now …”

“All right, we’re on our way,” Aunt Erma relented.

My head was spinning during the drive back to town. My thoughts had begun to blur as the car had warmed up, but there was still a swirling feeling in my stomach. Mitzy settled in my lap and as the snow melted off her fur and soaked through my pants my eyes snapped open. “Does the Morning Pie Crew know about the tree?” I asked.

She shook her head and merged onto the highway.

“You’re the only one I’ve told.”

“Why?”

“It’s safer. People can get strange around that much power. Even the most trustworthy people …” Her voice trailed off, and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

“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 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 returned to Hocus Hills.

Lena was waiting on the curb in front of her hardware store.

“I’m driving,” she announced once Erma had pulled up and rolled down the window. “We’ll get there faster.” She turned on her heel before Aunt Erma could protest. Aunt Erma rolled her eyes and parked the car.

“I’ll be right back. I have to put Mitzy in the apartment,” she said. I saw her sneak around to the alley with Mitzy in tow. There were a few people peering in the windows of the pie shop. I remembered the “Back in ten minutes” sign with a twinge of guilt. They’d probably forgive me if only they knew we were going to save the world from the power-hungry Drake family. Unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to give them that excuse.

Minutes later I was in the back seat of Lena’s car, clinging to the handle by the window with one hand and gripping the plush blue seat with the other. Speed limits were merely a suggestion in Lena’s world. I swear as we rounded the corners, the car tipped up on two wheels. When I said this out loud, Lena told me to stop being so dramatic.

“You’ll thank me when we get there and get this taken care of quickly,” she said, speeding up as the light in front of us changed from green to yellow.

“Here, eat this.” Aunt Erma handed small squares to me and Lena before popping one into her own mouth.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It will protect you,” Aunt Erma answered.

“From what, a car accident?” I asked.

“The magic.”

I inspected the square before eating it. It was white with little green flecks in it. Was it part of the tree? I glanced at Aunt Erma and she gave me a sharp look, confirming my suspicion. I took a tentative bite. It tasted like salt-water taffy, so I put the rest in my mouth and chewed. I always expected to hear wind chimes when I ate something magical, but to this date that had not happened.

In between muttering wishes for a safe arrival, I asked about the plan.

“What happens if we find the Drakes?”

“We play a game of shake the Drakes,” Lena said in such a deep, sinister voice that despite my nerves I couldn’t help but laugh.

“If we see the Drakes, you, Susie, will call Violet,” Aunt Erma began. “And you, Lena, will detain Stan and Dennis. I will take care of Brenda.”

Why did I always end up with the lamest jobs? While others would go down in history books for saving the world and taking down the bad guys, I would be credited in the footnotes for making a phone call.

We squealed into a parking spot on the street at the edge of town.

“We should walk in so we can sneak up on what’s happening. Get a feel for what we’re getting into,” Aunt Erma suggested.

“Everyone take note of where we parked in case we get separated.” Lena pointed to the street signs on the corner. My stomach flipped. In case we got separated? That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I began to regret my insistence to come along. I glanced at Aunt Erma, and she reached over and squeezed my arm. For a moment I felt as if everything was going to be okay.

I was on high alert. My ears strained to hear something that sounded like evil magic. It was quiet except for the wind that whistled around the buildings. A paper bag blew by like a tumbleweed. By this time of day, the streets should have been bustling. It felt like a scene from a horror movie but even more surreal. I scanned the windows of every building we passed and braced myself in case Brenda’s face appeared. We peeked into a bakery. It should have been full of people buying their bread and doughnuts, but it was empty.

I positioned myself in the middle as we walked shoulder to shoulder towards the center of town and resisted the urge to reach out and grab Aunt Erma’s hand for protection.

“Where is everyone?” I whispered. The layout of the town was similar to Hocus Hills except their town square was a little smaller, and there was a duck pond near the gazebo.

Lena shrugged.

“I don’t know, but it can’t be good,” Aunt Erma said.

I stopped in my tracks. “I hear something,” I said. They both stopped, and I held my breath as we listened. There was a sound coming from the church.

“We need more yarn,” we heard a deep voice yell. The church was a large white wooden building with steps leading up to a set of dark wood double doors. We crept up the steps, and Lena pushed the door open a crack. She peeked inside.

“I think we found everyone,” she said, pushing the door the rest of the way open.

The church was jam-packed with people of all ages. It was a flurry of activity, but I couldn’t figure out what they were doing. Some people were rushing around the room picking up skeins of yarn and moving them from one pew to another. Several people were knitting. Knitting? This seemed like more than just a quirky small-town activity. There was a large red circle that looked like a knitted parachute. People were working on different edges.

“What are they making?” Lena wondered aloud.

“A mitten,” a man with an armload of yarn balls yelled as he rushed past us.

“The world’s largest,” one of the women who was knitting called.

“Are the Drakes here?” The room was packed, but I didn’t see any sign of them.

Aunt Erma shook her head. “I don’t feel their magic. It’s strange that they’re not here though.” She looked a little uneasy, and I took a small step closer to her.

“Why is everyone knitting?” I asked. I almost felt dizzy from the hysteria around us.

“It must be part of the spell,” Aunt Erma said.

“But why?” I asked. It seemed like such a strange activity, and not at all in line with their ultimate goal of more power.

“It’s probably an accident,” Aunt Erma said. “They’re too power hungry to focus on getting the spell right. They’re frenzied as they alter the spices. It’s very hard to get the intention right – takes a lot of finesse. That’s why you should always keep it simple.” She was speaking to me now. I wasn’t sure it was the time for a magic lesson, but I nodded as I looked around at the chaos. I certainly didn’t ever want this to happen.

“How are we going to break the spell?” Lena asked, jumping out of the way of a frantic boy who was chasing the yarn balls he had just dropped as they rolled across the floor.

“Do we need to break it?” I asked, looking around. I mean, what they were doing was crazy, but it didn’t seem to be harmful. Unless they started capturing people inside the giant mitten once they finished knitting it.

“It could be dangerous to leave them like this. They won’t be able to stop until they’ve finished no matter how tired they are, and some of them could actually work themselves to death,” Aunt Erma said. Okay, that sounded bad. She was surveying the scene intently. “Lena, do you have them?”

“I told you you’d need me,” she said as she fished around in her yellow purse. She set it on the floor, and her whole head disappeared as she leaned into it. I was tempted to grab her feet, so she wouldn’t fall in. I didn’t know what exactly was inside there. I had asked her once how the magic purse worked. Was it just like a closet or was there a whole house inside?

“Oh no, dear, I couldn’t tell you that. Your aunt may be ready to divulge all of her secrets, but I like to keep one or two up my sleeve,” she had said.

“Ah, yes, here it is.” Her muffled voice emerged from the purse a second before she did. She triumphantly held up a stack of Erma’s Pies boxes.

“You keep pie in there?” I asked.

“You never know when you’ll need some,” she said. “Impromptu dinner party, afternoon snack, an antidote to stop crazed knitters.”

Aunt Erma took the boxes from Lena and opened the lid. She took a deep breath.

“The triple berry. Yes, this one should work. The unaltered spices will counteract the altered spices they used.” She pulled a bottle out of her pocket. It was clear and plain, not like her other spice bottles, but it had green flakes in it. I recognized them as leaves from the tree but I didn’t know when she’d had a chance to crumble them up and put them in a bottle. She sprinkled a healthy dose on top of all the pies. “A little extra boost,” she explained.

“They’re not all going to eat willingly. We’re going to have to coax them,” Lena said.

Lena did some more digging in her purse and emerged with three forks and a knife. We each took a pie. I watched Aunt Erma approach a young man who was knitting and offer him a bite of pie. He shook his head vehemently, his sandy brown hair flopping across his face. Without missing a beat, Aunt Erma shoved a bite into his mouth. His eyes widened so much I thought they might pop out of his head. He chewed and swallowed, all the while making “Mmmm” noises. Then his face changed. His brow furrowed, and he looked around.