Christmas Carol & the Shimmering Elf Page 9

  I put my arms around her waist and held tight. She smelled like roses and cinnamon. She rubbed my back and caressed my neck. “I’m sorry,” I said. I couldn’t catch my breath. I snotted all over the front of her pretty dress. But she didn’t seem to mind. Just as a mother, my mother, wouldn’t.

  “It’s fine, honey. What’s troubling you?”

  I took a deep breath. I couldn’t stop shaking. “You remind me of someone,” I said. “A person I lost.”

  “Oh, honey,” she said and hugged me tighter. I closed my eyes and imagined it truly was Mom. My heart swelled. I ached to tell her who I was. “I’m really sorry to hear that.” She pulled back and wiped my tears with her thumb. She smiled at Ray and reached over and stroked his cheek, too. I could tell he was trying not to cry. Big tough boy. “Would you two like to come in?” I nodded dumbly. “My name is Elizabeth. What are yours? And to what do I owe this delightful pleasure on such a brisk, wintry day?”

  She took us each by the hand and pulled us into the apartment. I stopped in my tracks, sparking a puzzled glance from the sweet woman. She must have thought there was something seriously wrong with me. But if she reminded me of my mother, the apartment reminded me of something I knew even more intimately. It was as if I were standing in Grandmother’s house in the North Pole. There was the bed with the antique quilt, the table with three chairs sitting next to the icebox. There was the fireplace with the couch and chair positioned to enjoy the warmth of the crackling flames. There was even a stack of books on the living room table, as if Earlier Grandmother had been expecting me and we’d jump right into my “schooling.”

  The apartment was decorated beautifully, with fresh green garlands strung over the doorways. A lovely little tree with red balls and silver trinkets sat in the corner. Stockings were hung just as Grandmother had done in her cabin at the North Pole. And then I spotted something that made me burst into tears all over again. On the fireplace mantel, placed in the center to give it more prominence, sat my carved wooden Santa figurine, the one my parents had given me for Christmas right before Mom died. I had no idea the figurine had been passed down through the generations of Mom’s family. Maybe she and Dad didn’t think I’d care about knowing that. They were wrong. I tried to make myself look away from the figurine, to stop my crying. Elizabeth hugged me again and guided us to a couch. “It’s OK, honey,” she said as I attempted to compose myself.

  Elizabeth sat in a chair across from us, the same chair Dad always occupied at Grandmother’s cabin. I wiped my tears away and glanced down. When I looked closely at the books, my heart did another flip-flop. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens lay on top. I picked it up, cradling it in my hands like a precious object. The book was beautiful, leather-bound, brand-new, not like the tattered copy Mr. Winters and his gang of misfits treasured. I tried not to cry again. I really was embarrassing myself. I took another deep breath. “My name is Carol, and this is Ray, and we’re here to see Noelle,” I said. “We need her help.”

  Elizabeth studied us. Her stare lingered on me in particular, and for a second, I caught a hint of what might have been recognition in her eyes. Surely she knew what our grandmother was. Elizabeth was only a quarter elf, and I wondered if she had inherited the telepathy gene. Maybe it skipped generations and I was just lucky to get it. In my head I said, Can you tell me where she is?

  She jolted like she’d gotten an electric shock and her eyes grew wide. Who are you?

  “Someone who came a long way to help her,” I said aloud.

  Elizabeth said nothing. She looked at me with more suspicion than before. “She’s seeking someone,” she finally said.

  “Someone with special abilities,” Ray said.

  Elizabeth’s head jerked toward my friend and her eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?” She was looking more and more suspicious.

  “A friend of yours sent us. I can explain everything once we find Noelle. Please,” I begged. “Trust us.”

  She thought about it but must have decided that a couple of kids were no threat. “I don’t know where she is at the moment.”

  “Can you make a portal?” I asked. Because I didn’t know this version of Grandmother and she didn’t know me, the connection wouldn’t be strong enough for me to make one.

  “How did you . . . ?” Elizabeth started to ask. “I’m not very good at them.”

  “If you can show her to me, then I can make a stronger one and go to where she is.”

  “I’ll try,” Elizabeth said. She closed her eyes and made a circle in the air with her hands. The portal shimmered in and out of solidity until it appeared long enough for me to get a good look at Grandmother. I smiled. She wasn’t exactly young, but she still looked strong and quite beautiful. The portal was weak so Noelle hadn’t noticed it, and she walked through what looked like farmland. That confused me. Had she traveled outside the city in her search? Elizabeth’s portal collapsed and she slumped over. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold it.”

  “That’s OK,” I said. “I got a good look at her. We can go to her now.” Ray groaned and I tried not to laugh. “Don’t worry, Ray. This isn’t like what we just did. It’ll be over in a jiffy.” He nodded in resignation, and I made a circle with my hands. “It was very nice to meet you, Elizabeth. I’m sorry I was such a mess.”

  “Wait,” she said. “You can’t go dressed like that. Only untoward women wear bloomers.”

  There was that silly-sounding word again. “What are bloomers?” I asked. And what the heck is untoward?

  “Trousers,” she said, pointing to the pants portion of my uniform. “Wait here.” Ray and I glanced at each other. Elizabeth disappeared down the hall and emerged a minute later with a lovely sky blue dress and a simple brown suit and white dress shirt. “This dress is Noelle’s. She’s about your size.” She handed it to me. “And this was my grandfather’s,” she said to Ray. “Probably a bit big, but better than what you have on.” The woman pointed to the back. “There are two rooms in which you can change. And a chamber pot if you need it.”

  “A what?”

  Elizabeth’s face reddened slightly. “For your functions,” she said, and I still had no idea what she was talking about.

  “If we need to go to the bathroom,” Ray whispered.

  My face turned a bright red. No toilets in 1851? Gross. We disappeared into separate bedrooms and changed into the strange clothes. I’d worn a dress a few times in my life, usually for one of my uncle’s board functions at Broward Academy, but nothing like this. The dress was long and stiff and difficult to squeeze into, and when I emerged from the bedroom, I felt ridiculous and could hardly move. Ray looked just as uncomfortable, tugging at his collar. The pants were a tad long, but otherwise the suit fit nicely.

  “Much better,” Elizabeth said, slapping her hands together. “You both look wonderful. Would you like me to go with you?”

  I thought about that. Maybe she could help. At minimum, she could introduce us to Earlier Grandmother. But no, I didn’t want to endanger her, too. And I suspected the longer we were here, the more dangerous it would become. There was also the matter of doing things that might change history. The fewer people involved, the better. “That’s OK,” I said. “We’ll find her.” Elizabeth smiled and pulled me into another hug. How wonderful that felt. For good measure, she hugged Ray, too. His eyes welled up and I knew he was thinking about his own mother. Two motherless children, crying for what we’d lost. I wiped my face and focused on the image of 1851 Noelle. I made the portal, gave Elizabeth a final wave, took Ray’s hand, and we dove through.

  Ray didn’t vomit this time. But he did land on his head. So he wasn’t too happy with me once he’d collected himself. Earlier Grandmother wasn’t happy with me either, because people were screaming and fleeing every which way. I hadn’t looked closely at what she was doing before I dove through the portal. That had been a mistake. She was in the middle of a small village, though I was still thoroughly confused by this. Hadn’t Grandmother found t
he first Defender in New York City? And even more confusing, just about everyone was African American. I thought of the time we were in. This was before the Civil War. Before Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves. We were in New York, however, the North. So I guessed (hoped) all these black people were free.

  Noelle walked up to us and screamed, “Who are you? What do you think you’re doing jumping right into the middle of all this?”

  “I-I-I’m Carol,” I stuttered. Grandmother had never gotten that angry with me, and it caught me off guard. “This is Ray. I’m sorry.”

  “How did you do that?” she asked. “And where did you get that?” She pointed to my cane.

  I’m part elf, I said telepathically, and it had the usual effect. A look of shock passed across her face. “You gave me this cane,” I said hurriedly. “You sent us here to help you. From the future.” Noelle seemed to be working this out in her head. The shimmering elf had already been kicked out of the elf kingdom at this point in history, so she knew time travel was possible. But it was still a lot to swallow. “You’re in horrible danger,” I added.

  “What do you mean? From whom?”

  “You’re looking for someone, right? Someone with power?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “How do you think?” I asked, and understanding flitted across her face. “Someone is coming to try and stop you.”

  “From what?”

  “Finding the person you’re looking for. We think he wants to destroy that person.”

  The elf looked at Ray, studying him up and down. “What do you have to say for yourself? And why are you wearing my husband’s suit?”

  He looked down at his clothes. “Elizabeth gave them to me.”

  “She helped us find you,” I said.

  Noelle rolled her eyes. “That silly girl. Always so trusting.” She reached out and touched my hair. “You both have the mark. It means something, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “But I can’t tell you more.”

  “Oh really,” the elf said. “So how do I know you’re who you say you are? Why should I trust you?”

  “Oh, wait, you told us to tell you something,” I said. “Santa forgives you for what you did.”

  The elf gasped and stepped back. “You couldn’t possibly . . . I told no one.”

  “I don’t know what it means,” I added hurriedly. “Grand . . . future you said you’d understand.” The elf raised an eyebrow. I hoped she hadn’t caught what I almost let slip. I had to be more careful. It was like handling a bottle of nitroglycerine. Make a wrong move and everything could explode. “We just want to help,” I said. “Something terrible is about to happen and we’re here to stop it.”

  The elf thought about this for what seemed like forever. The three of us were alone now, the village quiet, everyone hiding. I wondered how many eyes watched us. She finally looked at me and nodded. “Alright. Let’s find this mystery person. But if I suspect you of doing anything that gets in my way, you’ll rue the day. Understand?” Ray and I nodded dumbly. And through the village she strode, Ray and I close behind.

  He sat alone at the edge of the village, his head bent and the steam rising from his mouth with every breath in the frigid air. He wore no coat, and when he sat up at the sound of our approach, the telltale red hair with the white stripe became readily apparent. If I hadn’t been accustomed to Defenders of all colors having the red hair, he might have struck me as peculiar looking. A black person with red hair was quite unusual. That, it turned out, was part of the reason he was alone.

  The boy stood and turned to us. He looked scared. “Who are you?” he barked. He sounded scared, too. His fingers flexed at his sides and I wondered if he’d discovered his power yet. That, too, turned out to be part of the reason he was alone.

  “We’re friends,” Noelle said, stopping several feet from the boy. She held out her hand to make sure we stopped behind her.

  “No white people ever been my friends.” He flicked a curious glance at Ray, who clearly was not “white people.”

  “Why are you out here alone?” I asked. Noelle shot me a warning glare. The boy’s shoulders twitched. He was tall and skinny, probably a couple of years older than Ray and I, but it was difficult to tell because he had the face of a young child, wide-eyed and babyish. He had round cheeks and his ears stuck out a bit too far. His clothes were little more than rags and the only reason he wasn’t shivering had to be because of the Defender power he possessed. The boy frowned at me with his baby face and I almost smiled. He reminded me of a little kid who’s furious about something while everyone around him just thinks he’s being adorable.

  “Been alone for a long time,” the boy said, and his face seemed to age ten years. His voice began to rise. “And now that I lost her, I’ll be alone forever.” He rocked back and forth. He breathed hard through his nose. Something was making him angry, or sad, or both. Noelle moved back. But I felt sorry for the boy. I wanted to give him a hug. I stepped forward. The boy’s eyes grew wider. I took another step forward, holding out my hands, and he moved back. No, Carol, Noelle warned. No!

  But it was too late. As I took my next step, the boy rocked from side to side even faster, harder, like he was powering up. I realized it with only a moment to spare. If I hadn’t put up my cane to deflect the blast, we might have gotten hurt bad, maybe killed. As it was, the pulse blew the three of us backward. The next thing I knew, Noelle was shaking me awake. I had no idea how long we’d been out, but we were lying twenty feet from where we’d been standing and it was dark. The boy was gone.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Noelle, who looked more than a little annoyed.

  “You need to listen to what I say,” she snapped, rubbing the back of her head and wincing. “If you’re not from this world, then you don’t know how it works.”

  “Why was he so scared?” I asked. “We weren’t going to hurt him.”

  “He’s an escaped slave,” Noelle said solemnly. “He trusts no one.”

  It was as if she had grabbed my beating heart and squeezed. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to say I was sorry again, but I couldn’t speak either. This kid, not much older than I was, had been owned by someone, forced to work, probably separated from his family. I finally managed to whisper, “I’m sorry.”

  “I wouldn’t trust anyone either,” Noelle said.

  I wondered if people were chasing him. No wonder he was scared. “Should we try to find him again?”

  “Let him be for a bit,” Noelle said. “Something must have upset him before we arrived. I’ve been watching him for a while now and when he gets worked up like that, he can’t control the power he has.”

  I glanced at Ray and he looked away. We both knew exactly what the boy was dealing with. How terrible for him not to have someone like Mr. Winters to guide him. “OK,” I said softly.

  “Are you kids hungry?” Noelle asked.

  “Yes!” Ray and I said in unison. I realized the last thing we’d eaten were the cold beans and peanut butter sandwiches in the abandoned subway station.

  “Come on then,” Noelle said. “A friend of mine runs a place nearby and is up on all of the comings and goings. Maybe we can learn more about our powerful young friend. You’re in for a treat. Elijah’s quite the character.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Seneca Village

  “What is this place?” I asked. “Where is it?” We walked through a country town with thirty to forty houses, a church, a school, a general store, and a building with a hanging sign advertising the Red Dragon.

  “Seneca Village,” Noelle said.

  My ears perked up at that name. That’s where the Ancient One said Santa would come to find her and the first Defender. I couldn’t wait to see the Big Guy! “I thought we were in New York City,” I said.

  “Seneca Village is above the city. Negroes settled here and bought the land.” I knew from my history classes that negro was a common term of the day to describe black people. “Some Irish have moved in,
too,” Noelle continued. “Escaping famine in their homeland.” A black and Irish village in New York in the 1850s? Soooooo cool. I had no idea such a place ever existed.

  We entered the Red Dragon, which was filled with patrons eating and drinking and talking loudly around about a dozen small tables. Gas lamps hung on the walls and candles burned on every table, giving the room a warm glow. Whatever was being served smelled amazing, and my stomach gurgled. When we walked in, the room fell silent. I quickly realized why. Noelle and I were the only white people/elves in the entire place. I waved shyly, but everyone just stared. All except for a little girl, maybe four or five, who waved back enthusiastically. She had big round eyes and was so cute she looked like a doll Santa might leave under someone’s tree. But everyone else was stone-faced and I rocked forward and back uncomfortably.

  “Noelle!” a man shouted from behind the bar. He leaped over and ran toward us, a smile stretching from ear to ear. He was enormous, tall and broad-shouldered, muscles rippling on top of other muscles. His bald head shone like a Christmas ball hanging from a tree, and he wore plain gray overalls that looked a little like the uniforms people wore in Uncle Christopher’s world. A dirty white apron was tied around his waist. The man embraced Noelle, lifting the tiny elf right off of her feet. I couldn’t help but laugh, and everyone in the room went back to eating and drinking and talking.

  “Carol, Ray,” Noelle said, “I would like to introduce Elijah, the owner of this fine establishment.”

  Elijah beamed and pulled us into a hug. He nearly squeezed the life out of us, jamming us together so that we wound up cheek to cheek. I pulled away from Ray, both of us red-faced. “Any friend of Noelle’s is a friend of mine,” he said, practically shouting. “Welcome to the Red Dragon!” He nudged us toward an open table. “And Merry Christmas!” A small tree near the bar had been decorated simply with red ribbons, pinecones, and topped with a star made out of sticks.

  Ray mumbled, “Merry Christmas,” glancing nervously at our surroundings.