by Foley, E. G.
“Me? Certainly, I’d be honored.”
“Good lad!” Santa rose from his desk. “I wouldn’t normally bother a civilian with something like this. It’s just we’re in the final countdown to Christmas, and I find myself a little short on time. But steps must be taken, and quickly, to reverse the effects of that nasty Spiteful Spice our little friend sprinkled all over those poor bakeries.”
“Humbug confessed?” Jake asked in surprise. “Fancy that. We said we wouldn’t tell on him.”
“And that was very generous of you, considering how horrid he was to you all. But no. He didn’t have to tell me what he’d done. I already knew.” With a low chuckle, Santa tapped the side of his nose in the age-old sign of secrecy, then he moved around his desk and headed toward the fireplace.
“Blimey,” Jake murmured, turning in his chair. Santa really did seem to know everything about everybody. “How can I help?”
“One moment and I’ll show you.” With heavy footfalls Santa strode across the room and lifted a large and very pretty snow globe off the mantel.
It looked familiar. Then Jake realized he had seen a matching one in Mrs. Claus’s kitchen. He watched curiously as Santa gave it a shake and made the “snow” inside it fly.
Setting it back on the mantel, which was at eye level with him, Santa pressed the brass button on the front of the snow globe’s painted wooden base. Under the button, the little plaque said: Push To Call. He leaned toward the snow globe and said loudly: “Come in, Lollipop! This is Midnight Flier. Do you read me?”
Mrs. Claus’s face suddenly appeared in the snow globe.
“Right here, dear.” Busy managing her domain, she stepped into view drying her hands on a dish towel. Jake could see parts of her kitchen behind her, and was intrigued to realize the enchanted snow globes were some sort of communication device. “What can I do for you, love?”
“I need that, uh…oh, what’s it called?” He cast about. “The fluffy, white, powdery stuff. In the jar. The doctor what’s-his-name concoction? It’s on the tip of my tongue—”
“The Dr. Starshine’s,” she said, as though reading his mind.
He snapped his fingers. “That’s the one!”
She smiled. “On its way.” Mrs. Claus gestured to an elf to bring it to him at once. Then she turned back to Santa. “Anything else, dear?”
“Better send the young’uns to the parlor, Lolli. Master Jake and I are almost done here.”
“Oh, what did he wish for?” Mrs. Claus asked in suspense.
“Tell you all about it over supper. What are we having, by the way?”
“Your favorite. Roast beef.”
“Hello, Mrs. Claus!” Jake waved to her in the background.
“Hello again, Jake! Oh, sorry! Pudding’s boiling over. Lollipop out!” She reached toward her snow globe and pressed the button, and the image inside the glass ball disappeared.
“Clever device,” Jake remarked.
“Yes, they’re very handy.” Santa had no sooner turned away from the snow globe when there was a knock on the door.
At about knee level.
Blazes, thought Jake. He knew by now that Christmas elves were fast, but even Santa looked surprised at how quickly the elf had arrived from Mrs. Claus’s kitchen on the far end of the Great Igloo. He answered the door, bending down to take the concoction from his little helper.
A moment later, he returned, carrying a red and white striped jar with a silver metal lid. “Here we are. Dr. Starshine’s Delightful Elven Dusting Sugar. It’s very simple to use. Just flip the metal spout up on the lid and shake some of this stuff on anyone or anything Humbug might’ve tainted with the Spiteful Spice.”
“What does it do?”
“Turns them sweet, of course. But you must see to this task as soon as you possibly can. The longer the Spiteful Spice sits, the more it soaks in, the more powerful it becomes, and the nastier the effects.”
“I’ll do it right away, sir, as soon as I get back to London. Though…I don’t know exactly when that might be.”
“Ha! Come with me. We’ll get you home tonight.”
“Really?” Jake’s eyes widened. He jumped up eagerly out of his chair. “How?”
“You’ll see. Let’s go meet your friends in the parlor.”
Santa finished the last gulp of his hot chocolate and headed for the door. Jake trailed after him but hung back, hesitating slightly.
This was his only chance to ask Santa the painful question that had long troubled him. “Can I ask you something, Santa?”
The old man paused halfway to the door and turned around. “Of course. What is it, lad?”
Jake faltered. “I didn’t really like you in the past. Because it seemed like you always forgot about kids like me.”
Sadness wreathed his lined face. “My dear boy.”
Jake swallowed hard. As difficult as this was, he had to ask, for his fellow orphans’ sake. And his own. “Why didn’t you ever come? To the orphanage, I mean. Was it because we were all too bad to be given any presents? Were we on the Naughty list? I mean, I for one probably deserved it, but the little ones, like Petey…”
“No, no, no. Oh, my dear lad.” Santa came toward him with a pained look. “I’m so sorry you felt forgotten, Jake. But the truth is, I did come. I was there. Every year, without fail.”
“What?” Jake stared at him. “I never saw you.”
“You were sleeping. That’s always been my policy, to visit while the children are asleep.”
Well, that’s convenient, he thought skeptically, eyeing the old fellow for signs of deception. “Why is that?” he challenged him.
“Because if people could see me right there in the room, they’d have proof that I’m real and then they wouldn’t have to believe. Believing is what Christmas is all about, Jake,” Santa said.
Santa’s answer reminded Jake of the Snow Maiden’s angry words about her grandfather’s stubborn refusal to prove his existence to the world. “If they want to believe or not, that’s up to them,” she had reported him as saying.
“I would like people to trust in me even if they don’t have any proof. Besides,” Santa continued, gazing at him, “presents are nice, but they’re not the main thing, are they? No. The main thing, the most important part of Christmas, Jake, is the love. And every year, when I stopped in the orphanage, I walked among all you dear, sleeping children, and I always gave you that. Like this.” He held up his hand and a sprinkling of the most delicate gold dust rained down from his white-gloved fingertips.
Jake stared at it in wonder.
“Even if you can’t see me or don’t believe I’m there, the love soaks in—just the opposite of Spiteful Spice—and helps you find the strength to keep on going. The truth is, I can’t always leave presents, even for good children. It’s, just, well, it’s a big world, and sometimes, I need people of goodwill like you to help me in that department. But that doesn’t mean that you and the other orphans were ever forgotten. You always had my love.”
Jake was silent for a moment, not sure what to say to that.
“Well,” he forced out awkwardly, “it’s nice to know at least somebody cared.” Then he smiled. “I do have to admit, though, a present now and then would have been nice.”
“Ah, Jake,” Santa said with a smile. “The greatest Present of all was given to mankind on the very first Christmas, long ago. You think my little trinkets can ever top that?” He shook his head fondly. “No, the toys and treats I bring are only reminders of the true gift of His pure love, and I myself am only a shadow of who the real Giver is.”
Reverently, Jake absorbed this and could only regret his preoccupation with “trinkets,” as Santa had called them. Hadn’t he learned on his recent trip to Wales to see the goldmine he had inherited, that material things were not the answer to all life’s problems?
The old man laid a kindly hand upon his shoulder. “Now then. Are you ready to go home, Jake? I daresay Miss Helena is frantic, trying to find
you and your companions.”
He managed a nod. “We’ve got a Nativity play to put on in our country village. It means the world to Aunt Ramona.”
“I know.” Santa gave him a wink and said, “Follow me.”
They left the office. Santa led him to the parlor in the Clauses’ private living quarters within the Great Igloo.
There, Jake was reunited with his friends.
Dani came running. “Mrs. Claus said Santa has a way to get us home this very night!”
“She wouldn’t tell us how, though,” Isabelle chimed in.
“I’m hoping it’s in the sleigh,” Archie confided.
“Caw.” Red looked worried that he might have to pull it. The Gryphon had come in last, shoving the parlor door closed behind him with his tail. He prowled over to sit on the floor beside Jake.
“Don’t worry, Gryphon, you don’t need the sleigh for this mode of travel,” Santa said. “Jake, I trust you have an unused chimney somewhere in your house?”
“Yes, sir.” He immediately thought of the fireplace in an extra bedchamber on the upper floor of Everton House—the one Gladwin used to come and go as she pleased.
“Excellent.” Santa strolled to the fireplace on the parlor’s back wall.
Jake furrowed his brow as the old man unhooked a candy cane from where it hung on a branched candelabra sitting on the mantel. To their surprise, Santa bent back the straight end of the candy cane, revealing a hidden key within.
He fitted the key into a discreet keyhole in the narrow edge of the mantel. He turned it, and they heard a click; a portion of the fireplace bricks popped forward, like the door to a hidden safe, about one foot square.
“A secret compartment?” Archie murmured.
Santa smiled at him and pushed the brick façade aside. He reached into the compartment, pulling out a sliding shelf.
On it sat a strange brass device that reminded Jake of an oversized pincushion bristling with porcelain buttons on long metal stems. Each button was painted with either a letter or a number.
“Very well,” said Santa, peering over the rim of his spectacles at Jake. “Your address?”
Jake told him. The old man punched the keys, carefully spelling it out.
With that, he glanced around at them. “Righty-ho! Who wants to go first, then? One at a time, step into the fireplace.”
They looked at one other in trepidation.
“Don’t be alarmed, it’s perfectly safe. I call this ingenious bit of sorcery my Chimneyway. You go in through here”—he gestured toward the empty fireplace—“and it spits you out on the other end at whatever address you punch in. You’ll be back in London in the twinkling of an eye.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not in the least, Miss Dani,” Santa assured her, but although they trusted him, it was a strange enough mode of travel to make them all a little nervous.
“Well, I’m the eldest. I’ll go first,” Isabelle said, much to her brother’s relief.
Gentleman that he was, Archie always felt honor-bound to protect the girls, but as a great lover of gadgets, he was keen to see the Chimneyway in action.
Isabelle stepped bravely into the fireplace, crouching down to avoid bumping her head.
“Ready?” Santa asked.
“Ready, Santa.” She waved. “Goodbye!”
“Good luck,” Dani said with a frown.
Then Santa hit the button labeled Go.
A loud whooshing sound of air rushed through the room like wind through a tunnel. Isabelle’s hair blew around her in all directions. She looked up into the chimney with a small gasp, then suddenly disappeared in a puff of golden sparkles.
“Izzy!” Archie started forward in shock.
“Are you next? Go on, hurry!” Santa shouted over the clamor, and waved him on.
Archie stepped uncertainly into the fireplace. Right before their eyes, the boy genius vanished, tool-bag and all, in another poof of golden sparkles.
Jake and Dani exchanged a worried glance.
“Red?” Jake waved his pet toward the hearth.
“Becaw!” The Gryphon bounded to the fireplace and had to squash himself in before he, too, disappeared.
Whoosh!
Jake waved Dani on ahead of him as well, but instead of going directly to the Chimneyway, she ran over to Santa and gave him a hug. This done, she went dutifully to the magic fireplace, and once more—poof!
The carrot-head was gone.
Santa nodded at him with a smile. “Run along, Jake. You’ve still got a busy night ahead. Happy travels.”
“Thanks for everything, Santa. Give my best to Mrs. C!” With the jar of Dusting Sugar tucked firmly under his arm, Jake waved farewell, then bent down and stepped into the fireplace. “Hey! I almost forgot to wish you a merry—whoa!”
The next thing he knew, he was tumbling out of the unused fireplace at Everton House, sprawling in a heap on the rug.
Somehow he was still holding on to the Dusting Sugar and had managed not to break the glass jar.
Jumping feet were all around him. The room was filled with the cheering of his friends, who could not contain their joy at finding themselves back safely in time for Christmas.
Teddy was also making a ruckus, barking as if to scold Dani for leaving him behind. She scooped the little brown terrier up in her arms while Red crowed in boisterous relief.
“What is going on up there?” a voice suddenly shouted.
Miss Helena!
The room went silent as the girls’ pretty, black-haired governess marched in. “Where in the world have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Nobody said a word. Where to begin?
She looked at them in exasperation. “Fine. We’ll talk about it later. For now, is everyone all right?”
“Yes, Miss Helena,” they all said, nodding innocently.
She eyed them with skepticism and let out a huff, then called out the chamber door: “Never mind, Henry, I found them! They’re up here!”
“Well, tell them to hurry! We’re going to miss the train!” the boys’ tutor hollered back from downstairs.
“He’s right, you know. There’s no time to lose.” Miss Helena glanced at the locket watch that hung around her neck. “The train to Gryphondale leaves in half an hour. If we’re not on it, we’re going to miss the Nativity play—and if that happens, Her Ladyship will probably turn us all into hedgehogs. So, I suggest you hurry up!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Sorry, miss,” they said, but she had already stalked off to finish preparations for their jaunt out to the country.
“Close call,” Archie murmured after she had gone.
Jake brushed the soot off his clothes. “You lot take the train with Henry and Helena. I have to go undo the bad magic from Humbug’s Spiteful Spice with this stuff. Santa said it had to be done right away.”
“Cutting it close, coz.”
“I know, but I gave my word. Don’t worry, it won’t take long. I’ll just shake a bit of this Dusting Sugar around those bakeries and on the gingerbread people, then I’ll fly to Gryphondale on Red. Is that all right with you, boy?”
“Caw!” Red bobbed his head. He knew the way to their home village blindfolded.
Jake nodded. “Thanks.”
“You’d better not be late,” Dani warned. “The vicar’s counting on you to be St. Joseph.”
“And I, for one, don’t care to try life as a hedgehog,” Archie drawled.
Jake grinned at the thought. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there. Beard and all.”
“Come on! Time to go! Children, honestly!” Miss Helena insisted from the direction of the entrance hall.
“Red,” Jake murmured to his pet, “we’d better get out of here before Henry and Helena start asking questions.”
“What are we supposed to tell them?” Dani asked.
“Just say I wanted to keep Red company on the way to Gryphondale. It’s Christmas Eve. Poor fellow shouldn’t have to f
ly out to the village all alone. It’s not like we can take him on the train.”
“Good enough,” she replied.
“See you there,” Jake said with a curt nod in farewell.
Then they parted ways.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Gingerbread Wars
Though it was only five thirty in the afternoon, the early darkness of winter concealed the odd sight of a boy flying on a Gryphon over London.
A light snow blew around Jake and Red as they hurtled through the sky. The night was cold, but nothing like the bitter temperatures they had experienced at the North Pole.
Meanwhile, in the streets below, shops were closing early. Clerks and masters alike were eager to go and join in the festivities with family and friends. Jake hoped Bob and Marie’s bakeries were also closed by now, too.
They looked to be, he thought as Red approached.
At Jake’s urging, the Gryphon landed on the flat roof of the narrow brick building that the two bakeries shared.
With the Dusting Sugar securely tucked into his coat, Jake dismounted with a word of thanks to his trusty feathered friend, then crept to the edge of the roof and peered down over the side to see if anyone was coming.
At once, he waved frantically at Red. “Get down!”
The Gryphon flattened himself as a bobby came sauntering down the street. When the helmeted constable passed on the sidewalk below them, Jake’s fingers twitched with the urge to dump some Dusting Sugar on him, but he doubted it was Flanagan.
Nah, he’s got all those kids. He’s sure to be home with them tonight. It’s Christmas Eve. Besides, if he was honest, even Jake could admit that behind that gruff exterior, Constable Flanagan was a good, stout-hearted, honest man.
After the bobby on patrol had passed below, Jake faced the question of how to get inside. No Gladwin to let him in this time; he was going to have to use his old thieving skills.
Just as he started to get up from his crouched position, Marie herself stepped out of her shop below. Keys jangling, she turned around at the front door to lock up for the night.
