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Chapter 24~ What Followed
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What followed these events came in a dream-like state for Kit Calvin, and many times she had to remind herself that it was real. They took care of Vicky, magically wiping her memory and sending her safely home. And Father Time spared no time returning to New York. Charlie and Scott were furious, of course, but less so after witnessing Kit’s actions. They explained how, eventually, they’d returned to Flora Mae who revealed the whole story and sent them to London after Kit and Bernard. The group left Europe shortly after retrieving Dasher and Prancer, and London began to feel like a very strange but magical dream. Charlie and Kit were returned home to Hannah who wrapped them up in her arms and shared Kit’s hysterical sobs. Kit felt safe, finally. But, more importantly, she felt at home. And as midnight drew near, Kit stayed up in her bed, anxious and terrified. Her eyes were stuck to her digital clock as 11:59 p.m. drew to a close. And as the clock lit up at 12:00 a.m. and the date switched to December 24th, Kit released a long-held breath.
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The Calvins celebrated Christmas the usual way, a giant breakfast of biscuits, eggs, and french toast smothered in maple syrup. “Sleigh Ride” played from the kitchen radio as they gathered around their dining table, laughing and talking. Their tree was empty underneath except for a few stray pieces of wrapping paper and ribbons. Gifts were piled together. And the house felt loved again. Of course, Grandpa Scott, Buddy, and Grandma joined them for Christmas morning, but Scott always ended up cold asleep on the recliner halfway through. Grandma always chalked it up to the night before.
“He never gets his sleep schedule ready beforehand.”
Christmas drew to a close silently and peacefully for most of the world. It had been a great relief for Kit to hear that Father Time rejoined Flora Mae’s side, asking for her forgiveness and her hand. It’d been an even greater relief to hear how she’d thrown her arms around him and never let go again. It seemed perfect for everyone, and maybe now was the time to finally rest. But, Kit still was restless at night, tossing and turning with a force on her chest weighing her down. Oftentimes, she’d look at the spot where her snow globe had once been and wonder. A couple of days after Christmas, Charlie and Hannah revealed that they’d be spending the rest of December through New Year’s in the North Pole once more, knowing it’d be good for Kit to fit a few more family memories in before graduation. To Kit, this felt like a test—perhaps the worst she’d ever known. Each passing hour drew her closer to leaving and facing a very hard truth.
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The North Pole was a very different place after Christmas. It was relaxed and quite empty as most of the elves had packed up for a short vacation to the Bahamas or Florida. Elves had a strange affinity for Disney World. The decorations still hung off every banister and doorway but were now better suited to the approaching New Year. Kit and her mother set their bags down at the front where a few friendly elves helped them with their things.
“Oh, it’s just gorgeous, isn’t it, honey?” her mother gasped, gazing around the gigantic workshop with the wondrous eyes of a child. “I never get used to it.”
“Me neither,” Kit mumbled, the feeling of dread settling into her stomach. But, deep down, she didn’t know what there was to be afraid of. After saving the world, everything else should come easy, right?
Grandpa and Grandma greeted them at the front with hugs and laughter. But, Kit peered around curiously, looking for something but just not sure what.
“You alright, hun?” Grandma said, laying a kind hand on Kit’s shoulder.
Kit turned around, noticing her. “Oh, yeah, of course.” She slipped off her coat and bundled it up in her arms, almost scared that maybe, just maybe, he’d gone too.
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Each of the Calvins went their separate ways once arriving at the North Pole. Grandpa Scott had taken Charlie to go ice-fishing, a hobby they’d recently picked up. Hannah retreated to the Spearmint Spa to release the pent-up stress that had settled into her muscles after the time-crisis disaster. Kit found a cozy spot in the Yule Log Lounge and curled up with her laptop to try and write something, anything. The laptop keys stared back at her mockingly. She’d dug and dug for the past several hours, typing out lines and erasing them out of sudden disgust. She felt she had so much to say but couldn’t find a perfect way to put it. The frustration piled on higher and higher until she almost wanted to hurl her laptop across the room. But, the feelings finally began to make sense. She wasn’t worried or anxious. She was angry. No, she was pissed. None of this was fair. And he wasn’t allowed to just walk away from it all. Shutting her laptop down quickly, Kit came to an austere resolution. She wanted to make him hurt, too.
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Kit’s footsteps sounded like soft taps as she scurried down the long, freshly-polished hallway. She had to be quiet, but not out of fear this time. This time, she prowled the halls in search of her next victim, her next meal. And she had her prey locked on. It hadn’t been hard to steal from Curtis’s office. He was a smart elf, no doubt, but too trusting. Always leaving his office doors unlocked for visitors. Always leaving his keys around unattended. She knew she’d get a stern talk from Grandpa Scott about this come next Christmas, but that was then. This is now.
Kit dressed in her most quiet clothing as not to draw any unwanted noise—her thin holly green sweater, black leggings, and black flats that always made her feel light on her feet. Luckily, she knew these halls like the back of her hand, and, right now, she did not fear a thing.
Kit stopped in front of a large mahogany door decorated in garland and holly berries with gold tinsel along the trim. She looked at it briefly until a sudden burning in her gut gave her all the fuel she needed. She tried the handle. Locked. She knelt down to her knees and retracted two bobby pins from her hair, letting her cinnamon-colored locks fall down and frame her face. She bit down on all the right spots, bending the piece of metal into the shape she needed. Next, she found the small keyhole and slipped in her anchor and her pick. It took a second for her to get the feel of the lock, then expertly pushed each pin into the right spots, listening for the faint click each time. Finally, the lock gave and the handle turned. And in Kit’s mind, she gave a hundred thanks to her Aunt Jackie for teaching her a skill she thought she’d never have to use. The door swung open into Bernard’s own bedroom.
Fired up, Kit slipped inside and checked each space to make sure it was completely empty before closing the door behind her. Kit had been in almost every room in the workshop—including the famed snow globe room—but she’d never dared step foot in Bernard’s own room, until now. His place was decorated very similarly to his office. Deep red drapes with gold trim around the walls and balcony. Floors made of black marble and gold accents with scarlet rugs that looked straight from India. The fireplace was grand and made of hand-cut stone. The mantle was adorned with photos of other elves Kit didn’t know, a few with Grandpa Scott and Curtis, and even some with her. She wondered if any of these elves might be his parents. A desk and dresser and chairs sat on the corner next to the bathroom and closet entrances. Kit crossed over to the mahogany nightstand and turned on the gold mosaic lamp that glowed a soft light in the room. Next, there was the bed, large and elegant. In fact, it looked straight out of the nineteenth century with tall mahogany pillars and burgundy Rocco-style bed hangings. The gold detail shined so brightly that Kit thought it might be real gold sewn in. She tore her eyes away to the French paintings hung on his walls, magnificently detailed portraits and forest scenes. There even hung a few tapestries with languages crafted in that she couldn’t recognize. Treasures of all sorts filled his room, and Kit was certain Bernard’s age had to be really true.
Amidst her curiosity, Kit’s eyes fell on a small glass object atop his desk—the snow globe, his snow globe. It was positioned on top of a small antique platform that raised it up above all the other objects. Kit slowly picked it up, turning it over slowly in her hand. It was there, just as he said, on his desk right next to his chair. That awful feeling of guilt pressed back down upon her, and she had to set the snow globe back down. Pulling herself away, Kit rounded the desk and began pulling out the drawers, searching for anything that might hurt him. Most of the papers were letters, either from friends or human children. Sometimes, she’d find a few performance reviews from his very early days of apprenticeship, but, annoyingly, they were all perfect scores. Kit dug faster, knowing her time was limited and she couldn’t waste a single moment.
She pulled out the very bottom drawer to find only a single box labeled “Kit”. A new fear creeping in, she took out the box, set it on the desk, and pulled up the chair for herself. She lifted the lid to find papers, piles of papers. Kit flipped through them. The manuscripts of her stories. All her stories. She found a few photos of the two of them at birthday and Christmas parties, laughing and giving each other bunny ears. She dug deeper, a fierce desire overtaking her. She found a letter of recommendation he’d written for her future book publishing, all the birthday and Christmas cards she’d sent him through the years, and, at the very bottom, her very first story manuscript covered in notes and praises he’d given her. Kit looked at the front, wrinkled and beginning to shrivel at the ink. He’d kept it. After so many years, he’d kept it.
Kit looked up to see Bernard standing in the middle of the room, a bag in one arm, glaring at her. But, it didn’t matter if he hated her. Kit looked down at the manuscript again and smiled to herself.
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