Selfish Elf Wish (11 page)

“This is their first Christmas in New York,” Timber says.

“Then you should definitely take her to Macy’s,” Laura tells him. She turns to me. “You have to see Santa there at least once.”

Timber studies me for a second, then he says, “You’ve never sat on Santa’s lap, have you?”

“Well, I, uh ...” I try to remember what I know about that Santa guy.

“Of course you haven’t!” Timber says. “There are no malls where you’re from.” He turns back to his mom.

Laura shakes her head. “Oh dear,” she says, as if that’s the saddest thing she’s ever heard.

“My grandfather played Santa once at the Yale Club,” Timber says. “His friend Bunny Woolen was supposed to be his elf. Only Bunny was this short, fat little guy. About this tall.” He holds his hand four feet from the ground.

Laura starts to laugh. “I remember that. It was hilarious. He was this angry, sour little man who chomped on a cigar the whole time.”

Timber laughs along with his mother. “He was nothing like an elf.”

The table suddenly goes quiet. A fork clatters against a plate. My parents stop their conversation with the Sanchezes. Grove looks up from his conversation with Ari’s family. Briar turns slowly from Kenji toward us. Everyone’s eyes are wide, and no one seems to breathe.

“And what, pray tell, are elves like?” Fawna asks. My mouth drops open.

“You know,” Laura says, her laughter fading as she realizes my entire family is staring at her. “Goofy, funny little things with pointy shoes and ...” She trails off.

I brace myself, ready for the worst spells to fly, people to turn into frogs, my grandmother to morph into a screeching hawk. My mother hops up from her seat. I close my eyes and Briar grabs my hand. We hunker down.

“Who’s ready for dessert?” Mom nearly shouts.

Suddenly the table comes back to life. Dishes clack and brattle as my mom, dad, Grove, and my grandmother quickly gather up the dirty plates, glasses, and silverware and disappear into the kitchen in a flash.

“Oh my,” Laura says, blinking. “That was, um, quick.”

Briar and I stop clutching each other. “Whew,” she whispers as I slump back in my seat, feeling as if my limbs are full of jelly.

“So you’ll be in town for Christmas?” Laura asks me. I have to stop myself from making some sarcastic remark about how we’ll be helping Santa.

“We’re going back to Michigan,” Briar says, saving my butt.

“That’s so nice.” Laura gently folds her napkin and places it on the table. “So nice to be with family for the holidays.”

“Depends on the family,” I mutter half to myself.

Timber slaps my back and laughs loudly. “Exactly.”

 

Once dessert is done and the candles have burned down low, my friends and I slip into the living room while the adults stay at the table talking.

“Let me be the first to apologize for how annoying my parents are,” Ari announces when we settle on the couches and chairs. I grab a spot on the love seat next to Timber.

“Your parents?” Mercedes slaps her own forehead. “That’s nothing compared to my parents. All they could talk about was sausage. Sausage! Who talks about sausage?”

“I think my mom has a crush on Zephyr,” Timber says, and everybody stops to stare at him. He laughs uncomfortably. “She’s totally in love with you,” he says to me, and I blush a deeper red than the fabric of my tunic. “I think she wanted to invite you over for Christmas while I’m off skiing with my dad.”

Great
, I think,
his mom is more into me than he is
.

“Well,” says Timber, grabbing my knee, “at least she has good taste.”

Now I have no idea what to think! Does he like that his mom likes me or is that annoying? While I’m trying to puzzle through what it all means and whether or not Timber will ever like me as more than just a friend, the conversation around me takes a hundred twists and turns. By the time I clue back in to what everyone is saying, something has been decided.

“So tomorrow then?” Kenji asks.

“Works for me,” says Timber.

“Sorry, I can’t go with you,” Mercy says.

“I’m out,” says Ari.

“Briar? Zeph?” Timber asks.

I blink at my cousin, but she nods. “Yeah, we’ll meet you at ten o’clock.”

AT TEN O’CLOCK
the next morning, Briar and I are on the train with Kenji and Timber.

“So what’s the surprise?” Briar asks Kenji when we get settled on the F to Manhattan. The train’s not very crowded since it’s Friday after Thanksgiving, so the four of us can sit in a row with Kenji and Timber on the outside and Briar and me together in the middle. Last night while I was spacing out, our friends agreed that Briar and I need to get Christmasized, only we don’t know what that means.

Kenji leans forward to look at Timber. “Should we tell them?”

Timber grins. “Sure, why not? We’ve made them wait long enough.”

“Okay,” says Kenji. “First, you have to take a quiz.” He shakes his hair out of his face. Today the streaks are red and green, and he has a red-and-white-striped scarf tied at the top of his black jacket. “Who lives at the North Pole?”

Briar and I look at each other, confused. “You mean in the Arctic?” I ask. Kenji nods. “Well.” I lean back against the hard orange seat and think as the train rocks. “Other than the animals, there are probably some scientists and some native people. Are you talking about the Inuits?”

“Bzzzz,”
Kenji says. “Wrong!”

Timber snickers. “Okay, here’s another one. If someone wanted to pull a sleigh around the world, what animal would he use?”

Briar thinks about this. “What do you mean ‘a sleigh’? Like a sleigh that goes through snow?”

“Is there another kind of sleigh?” Timber asks.

“Are we still in the Arctic?” I ask.

He nods but he can barely contain the silly smirk on his face.

“Then it’d have to be dogs,” Briar says. “I mean sled dogs, of course.”

“
Bzzzz!
Wrong again!” Kenji says, then he laughs like a little kid with his head thrown back and his mouth open. A few riders look up from their newspapers to stare at us for a moment.

“All right, all right. Try this one,” Timber says. “If you had a workshop and wanted to make toys for all the children in the world, who would you hire to help you?”

“Now you’re being plain weird,” I say, annoyed.

“No come on,” Kenji says. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“How is that a legitimate question? ” I ask. “First off, who’s going to make toys for all the children in the world? And second, what’s that have to do with the dog sleds and the Arctic?” They both blink at me. I think for a moment, then I stop and chuckle. “Oh, I get it. Very funny.”

“What?” Briar asks. “I don’t get it at all.”

“They’re talking about Santa Claus,” I say, thinking back to the reading I did online about how erdlers celebrate Christmas.

Briar thinks about this. “Ohhhh,” she says. “Right, lives at the North Pole, drives a sleigh, makes toys.”

“Now you can answer the question,” says Kenji. “You got the first one right: Santa lives at the North Pole.”

“And what kind of animals pull his sleigh?” Timber asks.

Briar and I look at each other. I think about the pictures I saw of Santa’s sleigh. “Um, elk?” I say, which makes Timber and Kenji snicker.

“No, no. Moose!” Briar says. The guys nearly fall out of their seats laughing at us.

Kenji catches his breath and says, “Reindeer. Santa and his reindeer.”

“Right, reindeer,” we say, nodding.

“And who helps Santa make all the toys?” Timber asks.

Briar and I shrug. I run through my limited knowledge about this erdler holiday. I know Santa wears a red suit because I keep seeing him on billboards and in shop windows everywhere I go. And I guess he likes to drink cola.

“Penguins?” Briar guesses.

“Dude,” Kenji says, shaking his head.

“You should know this,” Timber says to me, but I’m drawing a blank. “Elves,” he finally says.

Slowly, Briar and I turn away from Timber and Kenji. She takes my hand and we stare at each other. If my face is as white as hers and if her eyes are as big as mine, then we must look like two snow owls right now. I wish my magic was strong enough to get inside her mind, but I can’t, so we stare at each other, wondering why they’re bringing up elves. Do they know? Did our family give it away last night? Is that why they’re being so strange today? And the biggest question of all: where are they taking us? I squeeze Briar’s hand. She squeezes back.

“Hey, guys.” Timber taps me on the shoulder. “What’s wrong over there? Don’t you remember the story about my grandfather’s friend Bunny Woolen?”

The color comes back into Briar’s cheeks and my hearts slows down. “Oh right,” I say. “That was a showstopper last night.”

“Yeah, what was up with that?” Timber asks. “Your whole family went dead silent.”

“Guess we were just curious,” I say.

“Yeah,” says Briar. “So tell us everything you know about
elves
?” Now it’s our turn to swallow our laughter.

“I don’t know,” says Timber. “Guess they’re good at making things.”

“Do they hunt?” Briar asks.

Kenji raises an eyebrow. “No. What would they hunt?”

“Reindeer,” Briar says. “To eat.”

Timber and Kenji both look horrified. I have to press my hand over my mouth to keep from snorting.

“Santa’s elves don’t shoot his reindeer!” Timber says with a shiver. “Now you’re getting creepy.”

“And the idea of a fat guy in a red suit who comes into your house while everyone is asleep isn’t creepy?” I ask.

“When you put it that way ...” Kenji says, looking horrified.

“But wait,” I say. “What’s this have to do with the surprise?”

“Remember last night when you said you’d never sat on Santa’s lap?” Timber asks.

“I didn’t say that, you did,” I point out.

“Yeah, but I was right, wasn’t I?” Timber asks.

“I guess so,” I say with a shrug.

“We’re taking you to see the man himself,” Timber says.

“What man?” Briar asks.

“The fat guy in the red suit,” says Kenji.

“I thought you said he lives in the North Pole,” Briar says.

“And he’s made up,” I point out.

“Dang,” says Timber, hanging his head and laughing. “Sometimes hanging out with you is like ...”

“Like what?” I ask, my fist on my hip.

“Easy there.” He pats my leg. “I was going to say like hanging out with foreign exchange students.”

“From Mars,” Kenji adds.

“Hey!” Briar punches him on the arm.

“Seriously,” Kenji says, rubbing his shoulder. “Even a foreign exchange student would know that Santa’s elves don’t kill and eat the reindeer.”

Timber pops up from his seat as the train pulls into a station. “This is our stop,” he says.

“Herald Square?” Briar reads from the sign on the platform as we step out of the train. “This ain’t the North Pole, honey.”

“You don’t have a bow and arrow hiding in your coat somewhere, do you?” Timber asks, patting me down.

“Maybe,” I tease. “Deer meat is awfully tasty.”

He shakes his head as we climb the stairs. “Don’t take down Rudolph, whatever you do. Santa needs him.”

 

Briar and I follow Timber and Kenji out to the crowded midtown sidewalk. Even though I’ve been in New York for a few months now, I can’t get used to seeing erdlers swarm like ants. They come from every direction, moving in droves, looking ahead but not seeing what’s right in front of them. The swarm parts to go around a man standing on the sidewalk in a long black coat, ringing a red bell. They come together again on the other side, swallowing him like a rock in a stream. The people are all shapes, colors, and sizes in puffy coats, scarves, hats, and gloves. Most carry bags. Many have on earphones or talk on cell phones, but few talk to one another. I grip Timber’s sleeve and look over my shoulder to make sure Briar is with us. She clings to Kenji’s arm, like a caterpillar on a leaf during a thunderstorm.

At the street corner, four police officers in blue caps stand in the intersection blowing whistles and waving cars through as people spill off the curbs, eager for their turn to cross.

“What are all these people doing here?” I ask Timber.

He slips his arm around my shoulder and keeps me close against his body. “This is the busiest shopping day of the year,” he says.

“What could they possibly need to buy?”

He looks down at me and cocks his head to one side. “Presents,” he says simply.

The cops’ whistles shriek and we surge forward with the crowd into the street, over a steaming manhole cover, and onto the equally packed sidewalk on the other side.

“Here it is,” Timber says, pointing up.

I raise my head to see a huge brown and beige brick building with hundreds of windows all lined with twinkling lights. On one corner of the building hangs an enormous red banner with a large white star and the word MACY’S on one side and WORLD’S LARGEST DEPARTMENT STORE on the other.

“Oh right!” I say, remembering what his mom said last night. “This is where you can visit Santa Claus.”

He nods. “Every year.”

Kenji and Briar have made it across the street now. Briar gawks at the building, the lights, the people just like I do. “Ready to go in?” Kenji asks. We both nod, although to tell the truth, I’d rather duck back down into the subway to escape everyone pushing by us.

We go in through revolving doors, which I have to admit are pretty fun. I could stay spinning in those doors for at least an hour, but of course, I follow my friends inside. Then I’m glad I did.

The first thing that hits me is the smell. It’s powerfully sweet and a little bit musky, like girls who sweep by me at school. I smell roses, pine trees, vanilla, nutmeg, coffee, and rain.