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Chapter 14~ The Midnight Getaway
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When Kit Calvin cried, she always did so with the knowledge that soon it would end and that she’d one day never again remember why she was so upset. She was practical about these sorts of things and never let hysteria creep in. So, she laid curled up in the tightest ball she could force herself into, blankets pulled up to her chin and toes clenched. The tears cooled down her enflamed cheeks and gave her a peaceful sense of drowning. And while she knew Columbia University was ahead of her as well as a beautiful new future, Kit still didn’t think she’d ever stop crying for a single second of it. Maybe she was a little hysterical.
It had been like that for a few minutes. A deep longing tired out her heart, but she couldn’t decide between wanting a time machine to erase her entire friendship with Bernard or a heavy bat to bash out the memories. Whatever it was needed to be strong and needed to be permanent. She couldn’t feel that sort of hurt for too long. It would break her.
A soft tapping—maybe a knock—came at the door and Kit nearly howled in frustration. Nothing felt worth getting up and putting on a normal face. But, slowly, moving one vertebra at a time, her feet connected with the rug. And she found she could indeed lift herself up without crumpling to the floor. The tapping came again. Kit ran a tissue under her eyes to soak up any stray tears or mascara smudges. But, when she finally opened her bedroom doors, no one was there.
Of course, she thought, rolling eyes at herself. I’m losing my freaking mind and hearing things. How much worse can we get?
But, the tapping came again, only further away and down the hall. Kit swung her head out into the hall and saw the back of Curtis scurrying away.
“Curtis?” she called. He stopped, slightly startled, and spun around. He was just as ‘Curtis’ as ever. Standing a foot below her, his round face held a constant expression of disbelief, and his nervous hands always clasped onto something. He held a short binder between his hands and stood alert and obedient like a toy soldier. “Curtis, what are you doing?”
After marching back over, he politely coughed a few times into his fist and straightened his yellow checkered vest.386Please respect copyright.PENANAsNWNIBnpnw
“I, well, I wanted to stop by because, as it seems you and Charlie are to leave soon, I thought it would be beneficial to receive your assessment concerning the performance of the tents I prepared for your trip. I’m hoping to release a line of them for next Christmas.”
“Oh.” Kit quieted.
Curtis peered closely at her for a moment before opening his mouth and closing it again. He leaned in a little. “Kit, if I may, have you been crying? Your eyes are very red.”
Kit briskly looked away and dabbed her swollen eyes with the back of her hand.
“I only ask,” he continued, “because I’m finishing a prototype of ‘You Better Not Cry’ eyedrops for nervous children who become afraid of mall Santas and rooftop clatter. Perhaps you’d like to be my first test subject.”
“No.” Kit wiped her face furiously and crossed her arms. “The tents were fine, Curtis. Thank you.”
The two fell silent. Noticing her tone, Curtis awkwardly nodded. “I see. I’ll just leave you to the rest of your night.”
He began walking away, and Kit let him. Part of her was quite bitter towards his untimely interruption, but the other part felt the need to cling onto something other than hurt and wrath.
“Wait,” she stopped him, stepping forward.
Curtis paused and turned back dutifully.
Kit crossed over to him and looked down. “You and Bernard have, um, worked together for a long time, right?”
“He did train me to become Assistant Head Elf. I’d still be stuffing bears and arranging wreaths if not for him.”
“Okay, but,” she took a breath and felt the shakiness in her throat. She fumbled with her hands and kept them down. “Did Bernard ever make you frustrated? Like so frustrated you wanted to, um, to—”
“Tear out every hair on his head and tie it into a rope to strangle him with? Plow him over with every reindeer and let them stomp all over his face? Fling him off the sleigh and watch him descend straight into a frozen lake?”
As if by magic, her nerves released and her shoulders sank. “Yes, that.”
Curtis smirked and glanced back down the hallway. “I wanted to do those things almost every day and, many times, I still do. But, not because I hate Bernard; because I respect him so much. Don’t get me wrong—he is obnoxious and arrogant and controlling and maybe a little unfeeling at times. He pushed me so hard I thought I might physically push him back. But, it was because he expected so much out of me that I became so great at what I do. I get to sit at the left hand of the Big Man himself, and that’s because Bernard saw that in me.”
Kit turned away and bit her lip hard. None of it helped. It only fueled her anger. Who was he to act as her boss and teacher when all she wanted was her friend? Maybe all he wanted was another person to control…
“But,” Curtis said, softly, “he doesn’t seem that way with you.”
Kit turned back to him, her attention newly piqued.
“I’ve always known Bernard to be a cold workaholic. But, ever since the past few years, he’s calmer than he used to be. He takes an interest in our lives and even reads the letters children send us. He stops everything he does when you walk in. And he makes a weird face like someone slapped him and rewarded him at the same time. All he talks about is your writing. He made copies for each of us, you know. I especially liked the part where the best friend saves the puppet children from the forest fire.”
Kit smiled gently and nodded to herself.
“The point is, he expects greatness from us because we need it to belong. He expects it from you because you already have it.”
Kit took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the roaring loud beating in her chest. She never had that many friends to begin with. Now was not the time to start losing them.
As sympathetic as possible, Curtis sighed, “I don’t know what he must’ve said to upset you so, but don’t hold it too much against him. Arguing with Bernard is like arguing with a brick wall. But, whatever it is, let it drive you forward—that’s what I do. And as I’ve seen, he likes to be proven wrong every once in a while.”
Kit bowed her head and smiled, feeling the stuffiness in her chest finally dissipate.
“Thank you,” she replied. She didn’t know if anything more would come out of her but just those two words. Anything more and maybe she’d collapse.
Curtis nodded dutifully and bowed away, turning back only once to say, “And by the way, I did some research on some Legendary Figures in New York. You should check out Flora Mae. Seems she dated Father Time a while ago.”
That was it. Suddenly, every window opened in Kit’s head and a light she’d never seen flooded in. The taped-up clock on Flora Mae’s shelves, her bitter attitude, her disapproval of magic. The book. It all made sense.
‘Ooh’, she heard herself once saying, ‘he also had a brief fling with the May Queen. Does that help any?’
Flora Mae wasn’t grouchy because she was an old shriveled loon. She was grouchy because something obviously changed her while dating Father Time. And not for the better.
Kit slithered towards her door and back into her room, pressing her back against the wall in anticipation of her head exploding. She had no clue what she’d say or what she’d do or how she’d do it. All she knew was that the wall clock read 10:56 and she’d need to be in New York in an hour for this to work.
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Kit Calvin never did a whole lot of sneaking out of the house in her childhood. Partially because she knew the consequences of getting on the Naughty List, partially because she couldn’t figure out how to open the rusted lock on her bedroom window. But, fortunately, she was always up for learning.
She had packed a backpack as quickly as she could and snacked on a few bites of dinner from her room service, forming new bits and pieces of a plan as she went along. She quickly found that devising a getaway plan shared strong similarities to writing a story. Start with a frame—some key points:
- Get to New York
- Convince Flora Mae to help find Father Time
- Find Father Time
- Save world.
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And of course, you had your sub-points:
1. Get to New York
- Find a ride
- Get there before anyone knows you’re gone
2. Convince Flora Mae to help find Father Time
- Talk Flora Mae into letting you inside
- Confront her about her relationship with Father Time
- Somehow get a crotchety old woman to use magic for the first time in centuries to help you locate an ex-boyfriend
3. Find Father Time
- Well…let’s not get ahead of ourselves…
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And Kit would’ve started building a narrative, but she felt sick at the very thought. She snuck across the hallway leading towards the staircases. Thankfully, the workshop was fairly quiet at night. Most of the elves working overnight were in the mailing and filing department, sorting through last-minute Christmas wishes. Kids really should be more punctual about their Santa letter-mailing habits.
She finally found the workshop’s center, a vast open space the size of a football field that revealed Christmas magic in all its glory. In the dark—well—it looked a little creepy. Kit scanned the outer rim for a sign of guards. Elf guards patrolled the most popular areas of the workshop at night and would be Kit’s biggest problem. As endearing as she found it before, the Elven advantage of heightened senses would not be of any help to her at the present moment. The nearby halls were clear, but she knew she’d have to make it all the way downstairs and towards the right-wing stables.
She moved slowly along the walls, keeping a steady creeping towards the candy-cane fire poles located on each side of the second floor. The grand staircase was helpful most times, but Elves had to be quick on their toes, and the poles helped them get from one department to another. Besides, there’d be no risking get spotted across the open staircase. Once she reached the opening, Kit peered down the fifteen-foot drop to the ground floor. Years of gliding down the poles had prepared her for the very moment. She latched herself onto the cool metal pole and swiftly swung down it, tapping her feet down onto the floor. She released a held breath and quickly crawled behind a teddy bear-stuffing counter. Not far away, Kit heard the footsteps and saw the reflections of flashlights in the glass cases in front of her. The colorful teddy bears inside them smiled back at her. Maybe they were cheering her on. Maybe she was going crazy.
Kit crawled up to a crouched position and raised her eyes enough to see the stable doors across the work floor. About three—no, four guards patrolled the area, two standing stationary by the base of the staircase and the other two making rounds across the floor. She could try to hop between counters and space herself evenly enough between the guards so that they might not notice. But, they’d most definitely hear her. No, there was only one option. A distraction.
Poking her head up a little higher, Kit could see a long red hair ponytail beneath the cap of one guard. Holly Fairgrove. Had to be.
Holly Fairgrove, Kit thought, Holly Fairgrove is fairly new to SLED (Security League of Elf Defense) and might be easier to distract than the others.
Digging into the back of her memories, Kit could recall Holly’s affinity for spicy hot chocolate, vintage ad posters, and Beanie Babies. She looked around her for anything remotely vintage. How convenient it would be to have Bernard’s powers right about now. The stuffed animals stared back at her. She understood it now. They weren’t cheering her on; they were mocking her. She opened a drawer attached to the counter and shoved a hand inside, pawing around for something that might work. All she felt was leftover cotton fluff and scrap fabric. This had to be the imperfections. Groping around a little longer, she finally landed on something more solid and fished it out. It was a stuffed animal indeed—a cat, it seemed. But if whoever made that cat found their work to be any good, she’d hate to see the rest. The gnarled, nearly unfinished stuffed animal stared back at her with one eye missing and several spots lacking stitches. But, it was all she had. Maybe the thing would scare Holly at least.
Popping her head back up, Kit saw Holly approaching her corner. And with a swift movement, Kit slid the stuffed cat across the floor and towards Holly. Kit pressed herself back up against the counter and waited. The footsteps soon came to a stop.
“What the..?” Holly whispered to herself, retrieving the stuffed animal. She looked it over, half-frightened and half-intrigued. She paused to examine the work area. Kit sucked in a breath and held every muscle together. A few more footsteps sounded behind Kit. Then, nothing.
“Hey, Jonah!” Holly called, “Check this out. Kinda looks like your cat.” The footsteps disappeared. Kit let her breath slip away.
But, there wasn’t a moment to lose. Kit scrambled to her hands and knees and crawled between the counter spaces, careful not to make any loud or suspicious noises. Every moment seemed to last for years until she finally reached the stable doors. She silently slipped through the doors, thanking God for everything.
“Wow,” she mumbled under her breath, “If sneaking out is so easy, I should’ve been doing that a long time ago.”
And then she turned back to the reindeer stables to meet eyes with a small stable elf.
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