A Very Mercy Christmas: A Witch Squad Holiday Special (A Witch Squad Cozy Mystery Book 5)

by M. Z. Andrews

  A smile spread across all of our faces. “It’s Jax! Of course, it had to be. We should have known,” I said with a laugh.

  Jax, who had aged the most gracefully out of the three of us we’d already visited, plucked up a child from the line and sat her down on Santa’s lap. She leaned over and looked the child in the eye. “Ok, it’s your turn. Be a big girl and tell Santa what you’d like for Christmas,” Jax said merrily.

  I rolled my eyes and looked at the Jax standing right next to me. “You haven’t changed a bit!” I said with a laugh.

  Jax smiled from ear to ear as she let out the deep breath she’d been holding. “Good! That makes my heart smile.” We watched the older version of Jax scurry about for several minutes before the Jax next to me asked, “Can we go check out Santa’s workshop? I’ve always wanted to see the inside of Santa’s workshop!”

  “Might as well,” I said with a shrug. I led the way past the long line of children, through the black metal gate surrounding the North Pole, past Santa and Jax the elf and into the small wooden box that they’d labeled Santa’s workshop. The outside was decorated seasonably with cutouts of snow adorning the roof; the chunky, old-fashioned Christmas bulbs hung from the pitched roof, and candy canes and gingerbread men decorated the outer walls.

  Inside, Santa’s workshop was quite the different story. The plywood walls were devoid of any decoration or charm – in fact, they hadn’t even been painted. There was a solitary table with two wooden chairs and a small wicker basket filled with the tiny candy canes the Santa gives out to the children after sitting on his lap.

  Jax’s smile disappeared. “This is what Santa’s workshop looks like?” she asked sadly.

  “Jax, it’s a mall Santa. It’s not like it’s the real Santa’s workshop,” Sweets assured her.

  Alba chuckled. “How old are you people? There is no real Santa thus there is no real Santa’s workshop. This is just a break room for the people who are playing Santa and the elves.”

  Jax shrugged. “I didn’t say I thought Santa was real. I just thought the inside would look like the outside and be all cute and stuff.”

  Suddenly, Jax’s alter-ego appeared in the workshop. She had a cell-phone to her ear and was talking to someone. “Hey. Where are you? Pick me up. – I just got off. – Nah, the other elf didn’t get here on time, so I had to cover her shift. – Yeah, I know, dumb kids just keep coming.”

  Jax’s face dropped. “Dumb kids?” she whispered. “I would never say that.”

  Alba laughed. “You just did!”

  She shook her head. “B-b-but, that wasn’t me!”

  “It surely was you. We all saw it.”

  Jax’s older-self grabbed her purse and jacket from the wall and made a beeline for the door.

  Present day Jax made a face. “Come on. We’re following me. Something has to be going on,” she announced and took off out the door after her doppelganger.

  We caught up with her just as she was pulling the fake elf collar from her neck and yanking off her elf’s hat. Her short legs managed to move her very quickly, and in seconds she was outside and digging through her purse. Outside the mall, she leaned against a pillar, pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse, opened the box and pulled one out.

  Jax watched her every move in shock. “I’m a smoker?! I don’t even like the smell of smoke! Why would have I started smoking?”

  As Jax’s older-self lit up her cigarette, a woman and her young daughter were just approaching the mall. The little girl looked up at Jax and pointed. “Look, mommy, it’s an elf!”

  Jax looked down at the little girl with a frown. “Santa went home,” she said gruffly.

  Stunned, the little girl’s bottom lip began to quiver as the mother let out a sigh of frustration. They’d obviously been hurrying to make it on time. The little girl turned and looked up at her mother. “But Mommy! I have to talk to Santa,” she cried, tugging on her mother’s black wool coat. “I have some important things to tell him.”

  The woman looked up at Jax pleadingly. “Maybe you can tell this nice elf what you want for Christmas. I’m sure she’ll be happy to tell Santa for you when she sees him later in the North Pole.”

  Jax rolled her eyes and flicked her cigarette into the snow on the ground, letting out a frustrated huff. “Hurry up. My ride’s on its way.”

  The little girl gave Jax a nervous smile and then turned to her mother. “Stand over there, mommy. You can’t hear this,” the little girl instructed her mother.

  The mother squatted down on her haunches and looked the little girl in the eye. “The elf needs to get to the North Pole soon, honey. You better hurry.”

  The little girl nodded but waited until her mother had moved out of earshot. She scooted closer to Jax and motioned to Jax with her finger. Jax made a face but bent over.

  “I know you’re not a real elf,” the girl admitted in a whisper, throwing a quick glance her mother’s way.

  Jax gave her a half smile. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because real elves don’t smoke cigarettes and a real elf wouldn’t still be at a mall on Christmas Eve. There’s just too much work to be done,” she explained.

  Jax nodded. “Ok. Fine, you got me.”

  “But I was hoping that maybe you’d be able to get a message to the real Santa for me.”

  Jax let out a deep breath. “I’ll do what I can,” she said reluctantly.

  “Ok. Well, my teacher, Mrs. Blake, just had a new baby and her baby has been in the hospital for months because he came out sick. And Mr. Silverton has been our new teacher since she’s been gone, but he yells at us a lot, and no one likes him very much at all. And I was hoping you’d be able to ask Santa if maybe he can make Mrs. Blake’s baby better so that he can go home from the hospital.”

  After listening to the little girl’s story, Jax stood up straight. We could see her debating how to deal with that request. Finally, she leaned over again. “Look, Santa really doesn’t deal with those kinds of requests. But if you tell me what toy you might want, I might be able to tell him that.”

  The little girl shook her head. “I already wrote my list to him. This is different. Mr. McGee, our principal, said it might just take a little Christmas magic to make Mrs. Blake’s baby feel better. And Santa is all about Christmas magic.”

  Jax bent over and curled her index finger to bring the little girl closer. “What grade are you in?”

  “Third.”

  “Ok. I think you’re old enough to learn a few things about Santa and Christmas magic.”

  The little girl nodded with wide eyes like she was going to be let in on a very big secret.

  “There is no Christmas magic. Christmas magic doesn’t exist. I’ve looked for it myself, and I’ve never found it.”

  The girl frowned. “How can you say that? You’re an elf!”

  Jax stood up straighter. “Not a real one.”

  “So? You’re still one of Santa’s workers. You shouldn’t say things like that!” Then the little girl whispered with her hand aside her face, “He might hear you!”

  Jax grimaced. “Yeah. About that. I think there’s something you ought to know about Santa…”

  The girls of the Witch Squad sucked in their breath as we all stared at Jax. “Jax! You didn’t!” Sweets admonished.

  Present-day Jax squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, please say I didn’t, please say I didn’t!”

  Just then a black sports car zipped up to the curb. The older Jax’s eyes lit up. “Oh! My ride’s here. Gotta go.”

  “But you were going to tell me about Santa,” the little girl complained.

  Jax peered over at the little girls’ mother. Our eyes all went to her as well. She hadn’t heard their conversation, so she looked hopefully at Jax.

  Present-day Jax furrowed her eyebrows together and clasped her hands in front of her. “Don’t tell her, Jax. Please don’t tell her,” she begged quietly.

  Jax opened the car door and put one foot inside. “Ne
xt year kid. I’ll tell ya next year.” She climbed into the front seat of the sports car and slammed the door shut, and just like that; she was gone.

  Our collective jaws hung open as the scene unfolded in front of us.

  Jax’s face fell as the little girl went back to her mother sadly. “I lost my childlike wonderment about Christmas?” she asked in a tiny voice.

  “Don’t worry, Jax. You’ll get it back. I promise,” I offered weakly.

  Jax shook her head. “No. I don’t think I will. I think it’s too late for me.”

  As Ronnie pulled up a new storm cloud around us, his voice bellowed through the wind. “It’s never too late!”

  22

  Before we could even ask where we were going, Ronnie had moved us to one of our final two destinations. When the dust settled, we found ourselves in a dark and dreary hallway lined with doors with bars on them.

  “Please tell me my brother isn’t still in jail,” I begged once I saw where we were.

  Ronnie shook his head. “You don’t speak to your brother anymore,” he told me.

  I made a face. “I don’t speak to Reign? But why?”

  He pointed towards a jail cell in the corner.

  I rushed towards it – my heart pounding in my ears. “Reign, please don’t be in there, please don’t be in there,” I chanted. When I saw what was in the room, my heart dropped into my stomach. “Oh, no.”

  The girls rushed to my side. Sweets sucked in her breath as did the rest of the girls.

  “Oh, Mercy!” Sweets cried out sadly.

  There in the cell, I sat alone in the corner. Curled up in a ball with my arms hugging my knees to my chest. I looked haggard and worn. My face looked like a wadded up paper towel, full of deep lines and creases. My body was gaunt – literally a shell of my current self. I felt like the wind got knocked out of me seeing myself in such a way. “Why do I look like that?” I asked whoever was listening. “And why am I here?”

  Ronnie moved towards me. “After you were expelled from the Institute, you had a rough life. You never got back on the right track. Your life of crime spiraled out of control, and you wound up constantly on the wrong side of the law. This is where it landed you. You’ve been here for the last eight months.”

  My eyes widened. “Eight months! This is terrible. Where’s my mother?”

  He sighed. “Linda hasn’t been well. Reign was convicted of Harper and Elena’s murders and with you in and out of jail – she’s in a rather delicate state. The poor woman has been in and out of mental institutions for the last five years.”

  A tiny sound escaped from my throat. “My mother’s in a mental institution and my brother’s in prison? This can’t be happening!”

  Jax and Sweets grabbed hold of me – giving me the strength to continue standing. “Mercy – it’s not real! I know we all keep saying that, but it’s not! You have to remember that,” Sweets reminded me.

  “Yeah, I know it’s not real. It just feels real. I mean, look at me! I look horrible! But I look real! Like I could reach out and touch me!”

  Sweets looked at Ronnie anxiously. “We have one more stop to make. I know it’s my future. Can we get it over with? We’d all like to go home now. We’re tired of seeing these what-if scenarios.”

  Ronnie threw his arms up, bringing the swirling air around our shoulders once again. This time, when the dust settled, we found ourselves in the middle of a cemetery on a dark, cold, and grey Christmas Eve.

  Sweets spun around, looking wildly at the graves. “Oh, God. Tell me I’m not in one of these graves! I’m not dead am I?”

  Ronnie’s finger emerged from his cape as he pointed towards one gravestone at the end of a row. Holding our collective breath, we followed his finger to the last grave. It wasn’t overly big, but it was taller than many of the others around. Our eyes immediately went to the name on the tombstone. My heart dropped as I read it aloud. “Mildred Ann “Sweets” Porter. February 14, 1996 – March 9, 2041.”

  Sweets hand rose to her mouth as it trembled. “Oh, my God. I’m dead?! Why am I dead?!”

  Holly and Alba grabbed Sweets on either side. Jax shook her head nervously. “You’re not dead, Sweets. It’s not 2041!”

  “But I die when I’m only 45? I’m still so young! Why?” she demanded, turning towards Ronnie. “How do I die?”

  “You had a massive heartache. The doctor’s warned you for years. Your poor diet and lack of exercise proved too much for your heart. They said you were lucky you made it as long as you did,” he shared.

  Her eyes widened. “I’m lucky? I’d hardly call dying at 45 lucky!”

  He shrugged.

  “Boy, Ronnie, you’re quite the bearer of bad news,” I growled at him. “Sweets is dead. Reign and I are incarcerated, and my mother is in a mental institution. Jax has lost everything that made her Jax. Holly is a home wrecker, and Alba’s divorced and alone. We’ve really got lives to look forward to, don’t we?”

  The five of us looked up at him angrily.

  “Red’s right. This is Ronnie’s fault!” Alba exclaimed, moving towards him slowly.

  Ronnie took a step backwards. “This isn’t my fault! You’re missing the point!”

  Sweets narrowed her eyes and moved towards him too. “Yeah! It is his fault.”

  He held his hands out as Jax, Holly, and I began moving towards him too. “Wait – wait ladies – this isn’t my fault. I’m only doing what the P.T.B. told me to do. They’re the ones that told me about your future – they’re the ones that told me what would happen if the five of you didn’t finish school together – they’re the ones that …”

  And suddenly a giant gust of wind swept up again. It circled around our shoulders, blowing our hair in all directions. I held my breath so the wind wouldn’t pull my breath out of me and just as suddenly as it came up, it disappeared.

  Slowly, we opened our eyes and looked around. The first thing I saw was the Christmas tree my mother had put up, and Jax had begun to decorate. There was the bar Alba and I had helped refinish and the staircase Holly had come down on in her Mrs. Claus bikini. We were back at Habernackle’s!

  “We’re home!” Jax cried excitedly.

  I looked around. “Ronnie?” I called out.

  Everyone spun around, looking for him too.

  “I think he’s gone,” said Holly.

  I ran to the front door, unlocked it, and pulled it open. Snow was piled up to the top of the door – only a sliver of light from a street lamp made its way in through the crack. “And the snow’s still there!”

  “Does that mean it’s over? Is that whole horrible nightmare over?” Holly asked, looking around the room.

  Alba nodded. “I think so. I think it’s done. Maybe now we can relax,” she said as she fell onto the chair she’d been sitting in before Wilhelmina Porter had shown up. She put a hand on the stew she hadn’t finished, and her eyes widened. “My stew is still warm!”

  I pulled my head back and made a face. “No way!”

  She shook her head. “I swear. It’s still warm.”

  “But we’ve been gone for hours,” Sweets said as she stormed around the table to her bowl of stew. She touched the side of the bowl. “My bowl’s still warm.” She scooped out a big spoonful and lifted it to her lips and took a taste. “I can’t believe it. It’s like we never left!” She sat down at the table.

  The rest of us took our spots around the table, too.

  With her hands cupping her bowl of stew, Jax looked around. “Should we finish eating?”

  No one spoke for a second as we all eyed each other curiously. Finally, Alba broke the silence. “Well. I don’t know about you four, but I’m starving. That whole Christmas ghost thing worked up an appetite.”

  Sweets nodded as she dug in. “I was hungry before we even left!”

  “Can you believe everything that just happened?” Holly asked as she took her first bite of the stew. Her eyes rolled back in her head a little. “Oh! Sweets, this stew is amazeballs!”


  The stew warmed my entire body as it settled in my stomach. “Sweets, Holly’s right. This stew is delicious. Thank you for making us a Christmas Eve dinner. We’re lucky to have you.”

  “Aww,” Sweets said, blushing. “Thanks, girls.”

  As we all went about eating our food, reflecting on the night we’d just had, we were all forced to ask ourselves. What was the takeaway? What was the point of our experience? Why had we just seen the things that we had?

  “Listen,” I began quietly. “I’m really sorry about everything I said before. I don’t want to stop being friends with the four of you.” I swallowed hard. “The four of you coming into my life is probably the best thing that’s happened to me in my life. Before I moved to Aspen Falls, I was a trouble maker. I didn’t fit in anywhere. I didn’t belong and I didn’t know what to do with myself. And now I have a home. And I have friends. And I care about people. I feel like I have a purpose. Honestly, I didn’t need those ghosts to show us all of that. I knew it. I just forgot, momentarily, how important you all are to me.”

  Jax looked at me, with her big blue eyes wide. I could see by her expression that I’d choked her up. She held a hand to her heart as she began to speak. “Mercy! I think that’s got to be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said!” She stood up and walked over to me.

  I wanted to roll my eyes and groan because I knew what she was about to do. Instead, I let it happen. She bent over and threw her arms around my shoulders. “You’re important to me, too!”

  “Thanks, Jax,” I whispered – feeling only slightly uncomfortable with the hug. I was growing in the affection department too. I knew that.

  Finally, Jax let go. She stood up and used her napkin to wipe her nose.

  “My turn,” said Holly, looking at all of us with a smile on her face. “Before I came to Aspen Falls, all of my friends were boys. I didn’t have friends that were girls. I think a lot of girls didn’t like me because – well – because I look like this and sometimes that makes other girls not like you. But I think it was also because I was really only interested in getting the boys’ attention and I never tried to make girlfriends. I didn’t need the ghosts to show me the value in having friends because I already knew the value. I just didn’t appreciate it enough. I want you all to know how much I appreciate your friendship too.”