Spell Check

by Julie Wright

  He checked my king with relative ease not too long into the game. At least he was nice enough to announce it.

  “Block it, Ally!” Robison directed.

  “I am!” I said, moving to block his check with my rook. It occurred to me to just let Jake win, but for whatever reason, I couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t lose on purpose just to save a guy’s ego.

  Jake’s brow furrowed in actual concentration when he realized going easy on me was a mistake. He would have almost been guaranteed to win if he hadn’t been easy on those first moves. He actually even tried explaining to me how to move my pieces as though I wouldn’t have known. He stopped explaining moves when I took his bishop.

  We were near thirty minutes into the game, being serenaded by Dad’s snoring from the other room, and Robison’s suggestions and hints to both players. Robison hated how long each move took me to make, but I wanted to win. He didn’t care who won. He just liked giving advice. And his advice was usually pretty good since he beat me as often as I’d beat him, but it was irritating to have him going back and forth between Jake and me.

  “What is that?” Farmor asked.

  I was about to explain that it was my knight I was moving, but realized she hadn’t been talking about the game. She had tilted her head towards the front of the house, listening intently for something only she heard. We all stopped to listen as well.

  “It’s Dad snoring.” Robison offered after a few seconds.

  I went back to moving my knight when a thunderous rapping came from the front door.

  “Someone’s here!” Robison shouted and ran to get the door.

  The banging intensified. “All right, all right already!” Robison yelled as he pulled the door open. I leaned back in my chair to see who made all that noise.

  On the porch was a tiny man wearing a three-piece suit. Behind him stood an elk.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Note to self:

  Just because a tiny man shows up at your door with an elk in tow doesn’t prove anything about Santa Claus.

  The little man was tiny, as in shorter-than-my-ten-year-old-brother tiny. He looked like a child dressed up to play businessman for the day. His long, dark hair was combed back into a ponytail tied at the nape of his neck. His goatee twitched as though he was grinding his teeth. He had a sort of mini-mafia look to him.

  Farmor had leaned toward the doorway of the dining room to see who was at the door. When her mouth fell open, she hurried to where the tiny man stood waiting. “Björn? Why are you here?” she asked, her voice hushed and trembling.

  “Is that a reindeer?” Robison asked.

  Jake, upon hearing the question, also leaned over to see through the doorway to our front entry hall.

  I immediately got up and followed Farmor to the door. “What’s going on?” I whispered, knowing that whatever it was, it had something to do with magic, which meant it had something to do with me. Jake followed me.

  Was Jake really here in my house when things like this were going on? Couldn’t we have gone to a movie for our first date?

  “He’s an elk,” Björn replied coldly to Robison’s question Robison before turning his attention to Farmor. “We need you back, Katrine.”

  “You know very well why I must be here.”

  Björn’s glance slid to me and back to her. “Her time to join us is close at hand. She won’t be alone for very long.” He said this as though he’d made it perfectly clear why Farmor should leave me.

  “Which is exactly why it should be of no consequence to wait until then—when we can both come together. Leaving her now is a very bad idea. She’s had no time to prepare. Others have had many months.”

  Jake stepped closer to the door. Farmor and Björn both turned their gazes on him.

  He flushed red to his hairline. “S-sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt. I’ve just . . . I don’t think I’ve ever seen an elk before, definitely not one that wasn’t in a zoo.”

  “Is Santa Claus real too?” Robison asked, his voice filled with hope and suspicion all at the same time.

  The elk snorted. Björn rolled his eyes and tapped his little foot impatiently. If the situation wasn’t altogether insane, I would have thought that a teensy man tapping his little foot was cute.

  Robison’s question had merit even if he was entirely too old to believe in Santa. He’d just found out witches were real, and now a man who could pass for an elf stood on our porch with a giant elk. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find that Björn was one of Santa’s elves and that the elk on our porch had a name like Dasher or something.

  “Robison,” Farmor said. “Why don’t you take Allyson’s friend and show him your video games for a minute?”

  “But I want to stay and hear what’s going on.”

  “I will tell what is allowed to be told later. But right now I need to speak to Björn privately.”

  Robison hesitated. “What about Ally? How is it private if she gets to listen?”

  Farmor pursed her lips and tilted her head impatiently.

  “All right. I’m going. C’mon Jake.”

  Jake moved with the same reluctance Robison did, but was too polite to stay and eavesdrop on a conversation that he was obviously being kicked out of. He flashed back a look of confusion at me as he followed Robison down the hall to where my father snored in the living room.

  “I’ll have to put a forgetful charm on that boy before we let him go home,” Farmor said softly.

  “Don’t make him forget the whole night!” The night had ended up a sort of buddy date more than a real date. He acted perfectly sweet and not the least bit romantic. Did I want him to remember that? Would it be better for him to forget altogether, or would that make him go back to ignoring me again?

  Björn tapped his foot again as if calling our attention back where it belonged. “Katrine, I know your position, but the king wants an answer before she takes her vows. He wants no trickery; he wants your word.”

  Farmor glanced at me but hurried to look back at Björn. She moved her gaze past him to the elk and then, finally, to the street behind them, and the neighbors houses beyond that. “Why didn’t you change?” she asked the elk. “Borrowing unnecessary trouble gets you nowhere.” She blew out at the elk, her breath sparkling like glitter.

  The elk’s shape melted and reformed into that of a man. He was tall with messy coarse brown hair. His eyes were too close together and his jaw was long and square. He wasn’t much better to look at than the elk had been.

  Björn shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. “You shouldn’t spell someone without permission.” A hint of warning frosted his tone.

  “And you should respect the rules of entering populated lands.” Farmor shot back her response, not even caring that the teensy man’s face had reddened with anger.

  “I did respect those rules. Am I not appropriately attired?” The sneer on his face shadowed for a moment and, for that moment, he looked like a small, ticked-off bear. I blinked in surprise, but when I looked again, his face was normal.

  She nodded. “Yes, but you were incompetent in choosing a traveling companion.”

  The elk-man snorted again. “I am not bound by your rules. I am under the rule of King Jotun.”

  Farmor took a step out into the cold October air. The elk man took a step back as if alarmed by her approach. She jabbed a finger at him. “And do you believe that King Jotun wants an incident that must be quelled because of your direct defiance of treaties made?”

  The elk man made no reply, but he looked down and pawed at the ground with his feet.

  I was totally lost. What was going on? Who were these people-animals standing on my porch, and why were they here?

  Before I asked, Farmor faced me directly. “I have to go for a short while, älskling. I hope to return before the witching hours. I’ll certainly be here when they come for you tomorrow, so that you won’t be alone. Don’t be afraid.”

  “But where are you going? And when’s the witchin
g hours? What’s going on?” I felt a little anxiety to have her leaving me. How would I get to Sweden to take my vows or whatever without her? When did I need to be there anyway? What would happen if I was late? Would they kill me if I showed up late? So many questions swirled in my head that I felt a little sick and off balanced.

  “I must visit the Troll King, King Jotun. Apparently he requires a babysitter.”

  The elk man and the tiny man bristled at her calling the Troll King out as a baby.

  She held out her hand and called to her belongings. They floated down the stairs towards her. All the little trinkets and books that had been spread over my bed were busy stuffing themselves back into her bag. The cape adjusted itself over her shoulders, and her newly packed bag put itself on her arm. She shifted her shoulders to settle the cape better. “The witching hours are at midnight. Surely you’ve noticed your inability to sleep between midnight and two?”

  “That’s why I can’t sleep? The witching hours? Are you kidding? Is this a joke?”

  Farmor frowned as she checked the clasp on her bag to make sure it was shut properly. “It’s a pity your birthday falls so close to Hallow’s Eve. So much you need to learn before the vows and no time to teach you. We’re forbidden to teach anything before powers come in, and that fool king always pulling me away when you need me most . . .” She looked to be in physical pain as she contemplated all we needed to do before they summoned me for the vows. I felt guilty about insisting on my date. I should have cancelled it and used the time we had together for her to teach me something. But how could I have known she’d be leaving?

  Farmor bundled me into a hug. “I will return as soon as I can. If not by the witching hours tonight, then before they summon you for the vows. I expect you to have listened to the book on magic by then. Study hard.” She turned to the elk man and Björn, and they all melted into the air.

  They were gone, leaving me alone on the porch with very little in the way of answers to any of my questions. And she expected me to listen to an entire book by tomorrow? I was glad I’d had a nap, because I’d be pulling an all-nighter tonight.

  I shivered in the cold and stepped back into the house, closing the door behind me and feeling slightly abandoned. A laugh followed a long and horrible sounding snore-snort, and I remembered that Jake and Robison were in the living room with my dad.

  Farmor had forgotten the forgetful charm, meaning there would be questions that had no answers for Jake too.

  Being a witch wasn’t nearly as much fun as one would first imagine.

  “Hey Ally,” Robison said when I leaned against the doorframe of the living room. They were playing Robison’s newest game. I smiled a little. Jake was definitely nice to look at. So. Totally. Beautiful.

  He shrugged sheepishly at me. “Your brother’s beating me in this almost as bad as you’re beating me at chess.”

  Jake was, of course, being generous. I wasn’t beating him. The game could still go either way. It was nice to see he wasn’t taking it too hard that he hadn’t annihilated me in under eight moves. He might have, if he’d started playing aggressively from the beginning.

  Dad snorted in his sleep and rolled over, reminding me I’d have to thank him later for making me learn to play chess all those years ago.

  “Does everyone in your family sleep like that?” Jake asked.

  “You mean snore?” I asked.

  “No, I mean do they sleep so deeply. We’ve made a lot of noise, and it hasn’t bothered him at all.”

  “It was a really long night.” I repeated from earlier. “And my mom and I don’t snore. Just Sob-Rob and Dad.” I knuckled Robison’s head. I looked at the clock, almost seven.

  “I don’t snore!” Rob insisted. “And you do too. You make that whistling sound through your teeth when you sleep.”

  I ignored that since he was right, and arguing with him might make him reveal worse things about me.

  Jake handed his remote off to Robison. “Hang onto this for me, okay, buddy?” Robison beamed under Jake’s casual use of the word “buddy.”

  So cute.

  Jake motioned me out into the hallway. “So . . . what’s up?” he asked once we’d moved far enough away from the living room door.

  I wished I knew how to do a forgetful charm on my own. “What do you mean?”

  He chewed on the inside of his cheek, a thing I’d never seen him do before. Was that a habit he had? If it was, why hadn’t I noticed it before?

  I tried, and failed, to look innocent. “We’re playing games. Chess and stuff.”

  He gave me a look that said he wasn’t going to put up with me not being straight with him.

  “It’s just been a long day,” I said.

  “You had a long day, you had a long night . . . a midget shows up with an elk at your door, your parents are out cold in a way that’s freakishly creepy, and Lisa called me and said she was sure you cast a spell over the girls who hanged you to make them sick, and that she’d had a dream you turned her into a fern?” He held up his hand. “Which I don’t believe, but . . .” My dad’s snore vibrated the walls. Jake crossed his arms over his chest and waited. When I simply stood there not saying anything, he asked again, “So what’s going on?”

  “I—it’s just that . . . .” I took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. “I like you, Jake,” I said finally.

  Did I say that out loud? I guess I should have been grateful that it wasn’t a confession of outright love. His lip quirked to the side slightly as he leaned in a little. “You like me? That’s your explanation for every crazy thing happening?”

  His closeness nearly made me forget what we were discussing. Please kiss me. Please kiss me. I thought. When he didn’t kiss me, I tried to offer him something that he could make sense of—something normal. “I don’t have any other explanations. It was a long night. My parents are sacked out because when they found out my grandmother was having troubles; they stayed up all night with me. They’re really tired. That isn’t such a weird thing, is it? People get tired when they’re up all night.”

  He looked slightly abashed by such a simple explanation. I was grateful not to have to lie any more about the hospital. Let him draw his own conclusions about what troubles my grandma had, and why my parents stayed up with me.

  “What about your grandma’s friend?” he asked, clearly not willing to just let it go.

  “What about him? He’s an old friend from Sweden.” I looked down at my feet, having to stop myself from pawing at the carpet the same way that the elk had done.

  “Well . . . don’t you think it’s weird he showed up at your door with an elk?”

  I laughed. “Of course I think that’s weird, but when aren’t old people weird—especially when they’re vertically impaired people from foreign countries?”

  He laughed too. “Okay. You’re right. Sorry if I seemed to be slamming you with all these questions. I just . . . you’re just not like other girls I know.”

  How true that statement was. I wasn’t anything like any of the girls I knew either—not anymore. He was leaning down again. My breath caught as I waited and hoped.

  “Aren’t you guys going to the football game?” Robison asked, having abandoned his games to interrupt what might have been the most important moment of my life.

  Jake jumped away from me as though he’d been caught doing something wrong. “Hey buddy. It’s actually a basketball game, but you’re right. We’re going to be late.” Jake looked at me, and I hoped he didn’t see the disappointment in my eyes as he asked, “Can we leave Robison on his own?”

  For a brief moment, I almost told Jake to go along without me, almost told him that I had studying to do, but looking at him with his eyes and his hair—hair that I wanted to brush out of those eyes—prevented me from saying the words that would keep me from his presence. I pushed away from the wall. “He’s not alone. My parents are both home. We’ll lock the doors. He’ll be fine.”

  Robison looked from me to Jake, t
hen back to me before he said, “Can I talk to you in private for a minute?” The request sounded sort of mature, even coming from him.

  “Sure.” I followed him into the chamber of snores with my dad. “You going to be okay while I’m at the game?” I asked when we were alone.

  He groaned. “I’m not a baby.”

  I didn’t remind him of his total paranoia of the dark. Mom and Dad were home. Even while they were sleeping, their presence offered comfort and security. He really would be fine.

  “Just wanted you to know I’m keeping your secret.”

  “Awesome.” I glanced out to where Jake stood by the front door. “Thanks.”

  He didn’t smile. “Whatever. I just want you to know that I think they gave the magic to the dumber one of us. And I expect really great Christmas presents from now on because you got the stuff and I don’t.”

  I smiled and pinched his cheek. “You do know that to get the stuff, you had to be a girl, right? Though you might’ve been kind of a cute little sister.”

  He pushed my hand away and scowled. “I’m just saying . . .”

  “Christmas presents. Check. Don’t worry, Rob. We will have some good times with this stuff.”

  “Promise?”

  “Needles in eyes and everything.”

  I smiled at his smile, but then got serious for a moment. “Lock the door after we leave and don’t let anyone but Farmor in—especially that little guy and his elk. I didn’t like either of them. Got it?”

  “Got it,” he said. He followed me as I walked back to the hallway where Jake waited. He waited some more while I ran to get my purse so I had somewhere more comfortable than my pocket to stash the troll, and my iPod too—maybe there would be time to listen during the game.

  He followed us to the front door where Björn had stood with his elk. Björn hadn’t seemed like someone my grandma approved of in any way. What was the story there? What was going on? I shook off my misgivings and tried to focus on Jake. What did it matter what the mini mafia wanted? Farmor was handling it.