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Chapter 10~ Bernard the Human
430Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2EPcJJTIZL
When Kit woke up, it was still Christmas Eve Eve. The terrible storm from the night before had passed away, but she knew it was only to get worse later that night. Kit peered outside of their tent into the bright New York morning. A fresh blanket of snow from December 22nd coated the rooftop of the apartment building. The sky was clear and the sun had just begun its steady rise over the horizon. And she, as it seemed, was the first one up.
Quickly dressing herself in some of the warmest gear she could find along with her own packed clothes from the workshop, Kit bound out of the tent and into the clean state of snow all around her. She loved the crunching sound under her boots. She was fascinated at the numbness of her hands after forming a snowball and hurling it right at Bernard’s tent. Except her aim wasn’t that good. And except that what was meant for the side of his tent ended up at the entrance and ended up square in the middle of Bernard’s chest.
He rocked back a bit before catching his balance and examining his battle wound. Kit covered her mouth in shock—half embarrassed, half curious to see what he might do next. Bernard’s eyes drew up to Kit and she suddenly knew she’d made a mistake. He was still half-asleep and clearly not in the mood to be attacked with snow. He bent down, slowly. Kit watched with every muscle held tight in anticipation. In a few seconds, he’d formed a snowball of his own and examined it with amusement. Bernard glanced at Kit, half considering it, but ultimately resisting, dropping the snowball back to the ground. He turned back to his own tent and Kit could feel her heart sinking.
Bernard loved snowball fights. It was his favorite way to let off steam. Kit turned to head back inside when a bell chimed through the air. She didn’t even have enough time to spin back around when a cold burst of snow smacked the back of her hair. Her face lit up in shock and excitement. She scooped low to start forming another snowball but Bernard was a step ahead of her, forming snowballs from magic and bombarding her with them with surprising accuracy. Kit had fallen into a chorus of giggles, shouting over and over again, “You’re cheating! Cut it out, Bernard!”
Nevertheless, she persisted, using Bernard’s tent as her own shield. Suddenly, it was a war zone around them. The peeling shriek of a snow missile sounded above them. Snowflakes acted as Kit’s war paint. She panted in heaving, cold breaths—so thick you could see them clear as day. The enemy was quick, agile, and had every advantage over her. But, Kit was smart. Kit could see through her enemy’s defenses into his major weakness.
With all the speed and diligence she could muster, Kit collected her stash of snowballs and heaved them into a bunch in her arms. The air was still but hung heavy with the anticipation that one of them would make a move. Kit pressed herself against the tent and cried out loud enough for the enemy to hear, “Bernard, my head is spinning! I feel like I’m gonna—” She jumped and stomped to create the sound of her falling. There was silence.
“Kit…?” hissed the enemy. She held her breath. “Kit, are you okay? Kit?” The crunch of his boots sounded his arrival, and as soon as he rounded the corner, she unleashed her weapons. He tried to shield her off, but she was an unstoppable force of cold and fury.
“Stop!” he gleefully cried, “You lied! Stop!” He had fallen into the snow. She had surely gained the upper hand.
“Never!” she squealed. But, her ammunition soon ran low. Bernard found his moment and yanked her down with him. He tried in vain to steal the last snowball from Kit’s grasp, but she writhed too much. They’d both fallen into a fit of laughter and shouts. The snow didn’t seem so cold anymore until they’d both calmed to a point of catching their breath. Kit looked at her victim with triumph and joy. And Bernard gazed back. He looked so happy—happier than she’d seen him in years. It was a good look for him. But, a quietness had passed through them, the same quietness that had drifted between them when first meeting again in the workshop. It was no longer a war zone. They were no longer enemies.
“What’s all the shouting for?” Charlie groaned, shuffling out of the tent and shielding his eyes from the morning light. Kit and Bernard stood up, shaking off the snow and avoiding eye contact. Kit moved to the heater and began thawing her hands.
“Just enjoying the snow,” she chimed, “Good morning.”
“Good morning, kiddo.”
Soon, Grandpa Scott had appeared from his tent, a tall, steaming thermos in hand. “Cocoa, anyone?” And, in no time, each of them was sitting around the heater with a cup of cocoa.
“I’ve checked in with Carol,” Scott began, “Everything is the same there. And no word from Buddy yet.”
Charlie took a long sip of cocoa and drew his hand across his mouth. “What’s the next move then, Dad?”
“Easy,” he replied. He stretched out a hand and pointed a little more to the right past Brooklyn. “I contacted Mother Nature and got the address of her sister’s apartment in Upper Manhattan, but it isn’t within walking distance. We’ll need to take the subway.”
Kit got a quick glance at Bernard’s face and was told all she needed to know about his feelings on that.
“I’m, uh…” Bernard cautiously began, “I’m assuming there isn’t any other way, then.”
Scott gave Bernard a curious but knowing look. “You’re not uncomfortable with that, are you, Head Elf?”
“No!” he yelled, just a little too loudly, “No, just wanna make sure we all have the, um, stamina to make it there. We should find something to eat.” Bernard quickly scurried inside his tent in search of food, but Kit couldn’t quit her smirking.
Not long after, they were all sitting around the heater, enjoying a short breakfast and making preparations for the trip. Kit sat next to Bernard who was barely touching his food.
“You know,” she sang, “There are lots of kids that ride the subway. Kids that might get a little excited seeing one of Santa’s real elves riding the subway with them. Who knows? They might even want to touch your hair.”
Bernard flinched at the very thought and shot a glare in her direction. “Cut it out.”
“I’m just saying,” she continued mischievously, “Maybe a change in wardrobe might soften your profile a bit. Don’t get me wrong. I love the—” she motioned to him with a short glance, “—tunic. But, maybe, just this once, you could try on some jeans.”
Bernard took a sip of his cocoa to calm his nerves. “I don’t wear human clothes, Kit.”
“I know that, but we need to reach Flora Mae as quickly and unsuspiciously as possible. So, please let me fix you up. Just this once.” Kit clutched his hand in hers and squeezed. “Please, Bernard.”
He watched her for a second, all sorts of thoughts running in the back of his mind. For a minute, she thought about pulling away but found herself locked in. Finally, he shut his eyes and sighed, relenting.
“Okay, come out now.”
Kit strained against her own desire to take a peek around the changing shade and see her new creation. But, her hands, squeezed together tight in anticipation, couldn’t hide it much longer. She bounced up and down like a child in a theme park. She’d never before seen Bernard in human clothes.
“It’s far too constricting. And why are the seams in such weird places?”
“Oh, come on out!”
Bernard inched his way from the shade and into Kit’s view. She paused a moment, looking him up and down. She didn’t feel the way she expected. It felt weird. Like some sort of strange dream had come true before her very eyes.
Kit had dressed him in a pair of jeans, a tee-shirt, and a gray cardigan. Just the sort of blameless thing that a guy from her school might wear. But, on Bernard, it felt all wrong. She tried to mask the disappointed look on her face. She circled around him slightly, hiking his discomfort up even more.
“It’s…too laid back for you. No offense, but you aren’t a laid-back guy.”
Bernard cocked his eyebrow. “I feel like I was supposed to take offense to that.” He took a look down at his jeans and sneakers and made a disgusted face.
Kit flew to the closet again to search through all possible human clothes Curtis had supplied them with. It wasn’t much but it all looked New York, fortunately.
“Wait,” Kit squealed, “I think I found something.” She snatched the pieces from the hangers and shoved them into Bernard’s arms. “Try this. And tuck it in.”
With a suspicious glance, Bernard returned behind the shade. Kit took a seat on the nearby chaise lounge. While Grandpa Scott and Charlie were dressing and repackaging their tents, Kit had taken up her own very important task to disguise Bernard as a New Yorker despite his best wishes. But, it was a much harder task than she anticipated. Despite the outfit choices, Bernard didn’t look very modern at all.
“How’s it going?” Kit called.
“I don’t know,” he said, “It feels wrong. But, then again, anything you’d put me in would feel wrong.”
Kit smirked. “Are you making a comment on my styling choices?”
Bernard popped his head out, a witty smirk on his own cheeks. “I think Curtis may be the one to blame in this instance.”
Kit rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, growing impatient. “Are you done yet? It won’t take long for Grandpa Scott and Dad to be done and you wouldn’t want them to stroll in with your ass bare, now would you?”
“Almost done.”
A few moments later, he stepped out. Kit looked at him from across the tent and smiled. Bernard noticed and looked back at himself as if something had suddenly changed. He wore a navy blue button-up with the buttons all out of sorts, dark jeans, a sleek black belt, and the nicest pair of dress shoes Kit could find. She stood and crossed over to him.
“What?” he asked. “If it’s that bad, I should just go in my own clothes. I’ll just listen to kids’ Christmas wishes until we get to Flora Mae.”
“No,” Kit beamed, “You look really great. Better than I expected. But, you need to learn how to button clothes.”
“I can button clothes. Just not the tiny ones like these.”
Kit shook her head and got to work redoing his handiwork. When it was straight, she flattened down his collar and smiled to herself. Pretty good work. She could feel him looking but didn’t sense the need to pull away like she normally would.
“Here,” Kit retreated back to the closest and handed him a black wool coat and simple scarf. “I know you aren’t cold, but it might be helpful to at least look like you can be.”
Bernard gave her a look and shrugged off the coat for now. “You really think this can work?”
She took in the look once more and came to a painful but necessary conclusion. “Not yet.” She took him by the arm and led him over to a desk chair. She pulled the cap from his head to which he briefly protested.
“Sit,” she ordered. Bernard stood there confused for a moment before following her instructions. Kit opened the top drawer of the nearby desk and rummaged through its random contents before resting her hand on what she needed. She retracted a pair of silver scissors.
Bernard’s eyes grew to the size of saucers and he retreated from the chair. Wordlessly, Kit wrestled him back in and even considered if she might need bonds of some sort.
“Kit—no!”
“There’s no way you’ll pass as a sane human if you don’t let me trim your hair just a little.”
“Kit—”
“Trust me! Don’t you trust me?”
Bernard soon stopped struggling and sat in the chair, rigid and on high alert. His eyes couldn’t pull away from the shears on the desk.
“You’re ancient, Bernard. It’s not like your hair won’t grow back. Just consider this as a little glance into human life.”
“But, I don’t like human life.”
Kit frowned and gave him a look. “You can close your eyes for the whole thing. I promise I won’t hurt you. Besides, I cut my dad’s hair all the time.”
Bernard stared back and finally shut his eyes tight so that they might never open again. He tried to think of how Charlie’s hair was cut. It didn’t comfort him. Kit grinned and took up the scissors again.
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