Wish for Santa: Average Angel

by Felicity Green

  “Winnisquam?”

  “Yes!” she exclaimed.

  That wasn’t far from where my grandparents lived, so Sam had been well en route.

  “Hmm. There are a lot of cabins at that lake,” I pondered. “Did he mention anything specific? What else did his mom say?”

  Anna shrugged. “Something about looking out at three islands. He was going to walk around the lake and look for the three islands. That’s all he knew.” She paused. “Well, he did say that she said other stuff, but he didn’t want to repeat it. And he got all red in the face.” Anna looked down to hide a shy smile.

  “Okay. Thank you, Anna. That’s something to go on, at least.”

  She perked up. “So, did I help you?”

  “Yes, you did! Couldn’t have done it without you.” We high-fived, and Anna left my room.

  I sank into the cushions and stared at the ceiling. I finally had some information, but it didn’t quite fit. What was I supposed to do with it? I mean, what demon lived in a cabin on Lake Winnisquam?

  ***

  “I found you a witch,” Sarah said on the telephone the next day while I was on my way to the diner.

  “What? Where?”

  “Here, at my college.” She sounded impatient. “She goes here.”

  “To your college?” It seemed odd to me that a witch would take business classes, but I reconsidered when I thought about all the witch businesses in Salem.

  “Yes. She’s a white witch. Apparently, the real deal. It’s a family thing, and she grew up with it. I heard about her through a friend. Her name is Becca, and she’s a senior.”

  “Oh. Wow.” This news was unexpected. I had as good as given up on the witch idea after the trip to Salem.

  “I arranged for you to meet her this afternoon.”

  “This afternoon? I’m working.”

  “Well, I thought it was urgent. It seemed important the other day. Do you want me to cancel it?” Sarah sounded disappointed.

  I knew what Zack would say about this, but I couldn’t turn down an opportunity that fell in my lap—especially after finding out that Irene Sullivan did really know something about Sam’s father. Whatever she knew was something a witch could possibly help me draw out of her. It was worth a try, at least.

  “No, don’t cancel. Sorry, this just came unexpected. Thanks for setting this up. It’s a great help,” I reassured Sarah.

  Aunt Jeannie wasn’t too pleased when I told her that I had to leave early because I had an appointment in Concord. She’d already had to shift the schedule around because of my work shadowing, which had come up so quickly. I knew I was taking advantage of the fact that she was my aunt and that she couldn’t say no to me. So when she grumbled something, made a phone call to another waitress, then told me it was all right, I gave her a big hug. “Thanks, I really appreciate it,” I whispered. She patted my head and smiled.

  “This better be good,” I mumbled a couple of hours later when I grabbed Allison’s car keys and left her a note. Luckily, she wasn’t there, but I was aware that I was just postponing the argument to later that night.

  There was little traffic at that time of day as I drove to Concord and quickly found the address Sarah had given me.

  Becca St. Clair was nothing like I had imagined. Instead of sporting the goth look I associated with witches—a prejudice that had been cemented by our visit to Salem—she looked like a prom queen. She had long blond hair, glossy lips, and wore a pink cardigan.

  I explained to her what my problem was and what I wanted her to do. To my disappointment, she was not very enthusiastic about doing some magic for me.

  “I don’t really do that,” she said. “I’m a white witch. Asking someone to spill the beans on something they don’t want to talk about is kind of against my moral code.”

  Witches have a moral code?

  “But you could do it?” I asked. “Theoretically?” I told her about the spell kit with the incantation, herbs, and candle we had bought in Salem.

  “Yes, I could. But—”

  “It’s for a good cause, really,” I said, quickly interrupting her. “We would be helping a little boy who wants to find his dad. We would make his Christmas wish come true. Surely, there’s nothing morally despicable about that.”

  She nodded slowly. “I will think about it, sleep on it. I’ll give you a call tomorrow and let you know what I decide, okay?”

  What could I say to that? Maybe I should have been relieved that I wasn’t practically forced to act against Zack’s will, but I just felt as though all avenues that could possibly lead to fulfilling Sam’s wish were closing off.

  I thanked her and said I hoped she would decide to help me. Then I walked back to my car and drove home. I got caught up in the afternoon rush hour, and it took me ages to get back. Not only had I let down Aunt Jeannie, I had also made Allison stinking mad at me for just taking the car.

  That night, I had to work really hard to stay positive and not become despondent. I had learned the hard way that I could not give up on a wish, and I mustered up all the faith I had that I would eventually succeed in fulfilling this one.

  “Something will come up,” I muttered to myself repeatedly as I went to sleep. “Something will come up.”

  15

  The sound of my cell phone ringing incessantly woke me up. Trying to keep at least one eye open, I grabbed it from the nightstand.

  It was still dark, and before I checked the phone’s display, I darted a bleary-eyed glance at my alarm clock.

  Five-thirty.

  I didn’t recognize the number on the display and hesitated. Curiosity won, and I picked up.

  “Hello?”

  “This is Becca,” a cheerful voice answered.

  I sat up and pushed my hair out of my face. “Becca… hi.”

  “You are never gonna guess what happened to me last night,” she said with barely contained excitement. “This has never happened to me before. I always thought this was just make-believe, stories the elders told like fairytales, you know?”

  I didn’t know. But my brain was still fuzzy, and I didn’t get a word in edgewise.

  “And then, there he was. In my bedroom! With the most beautiful white wings. And he was so beautiful too, like they always say.”

  “What? Who?” I managed to interject.

  Becca’s voice turned low and somber as though she was talking in church. “An angel visited me last night, Stella. A real angel.”

  Suddenly, I was wide awake. I sat bolt upright in bed. “What angel?”

  “His name was Zachriel. He came to see me because he wanted to tell me that I could trust you and that I should go ahead with helping you.”

  My mind raced, trying to process this information. Zack had visited Becca. How did he know that I’d been looking for a witch and had contacted her? Well, he knew everything, didn’t he? Or at least with his time-traveling capabilities, he had the potential to. In fact, I didn’t even know the extent of his powers. Maybe he could do other stuff, like watch me while he was invisible or read my mind. The thought of Zack knowing what I was thinking freaked me out. All this schoolgirl crush stuff I had been feeling? Embarrassing!

  Anyway, he somehow knew what I was doing. And it only made sense that he would keep tabs on me and check on my progress, even though he had downright forbidden me from taking on this wish. I was surprised he hadn’t interfered more. But if he had come to see Becca and told her to help me, he must have changed his mind. It seemed weird that he had made a complete turnaround, but maybe he’d thought if he couldn’t stop me, he could at least make sure I had proper help. I had to admit: It felt good that he had gotten involved and expressed his support for me. I hadn’t consciously realized I had been craving that from him.

  Becca interrupted my jumbled thoughts before I could finish deliberating the whole thing. “So we should do this pretty soon. The best would be today, Zachriel said.”

  “Today? Hmm, I’m working.”

  “Well,
can you call in sick or something? Zachriel said it’s important that we do it soon.” Whenever she mentioned his name, she sounded completely in awe. I wasn’t surprised. I probably sounded the same when I talked about him. When I didn’t answer, she followed up, sounding slightly pissed off. “Do you want my help or not?”

  I hurried to placate her. “I do.” If Zack had asked her to help, then she had to be a real witch. Of course, I had to use her. This might have been my only chance to get the truth out of Irene Sullivan. “I really do. Yeah, let’s do it today, okay? Work will be fine.”

  We planned how to talk to Irene and cast the spell and arranged a time and place to meet.

  Then I took a deep breath and called Aunt Jeannie. When I told her I couldn’t come to work that day, she went silent.

  “I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Something important has come up.”

  “I understand that you think it’s important, but you also have to live up to your responsibilities,” my aunt said with a sad voice that made my heart ache. “I really want to cut you some slack, but I feel like you’re taking advantage of me because I’m your aunt.”

  She definitely had a point there.

  “What do you think would happen if I was just your boss?”

  “You would give me a warning, maybe even fire me,” I admitted.

  “Exactly.”

  I couldn’t keep the tears from spilling, and I’m sure my aunt heard it in my voice. “So… is that what you’re doing? Firing me?”

  “No.” She sighed. “But please do me a favor and take this to heart, okay? Maybe you want to take some time off from working at the diner. Take care of whatever it is that you’re currently preoccupied with that’s so important—”

  “No,” I cut in. “No, I don’t want to do that. I want to live up to my responsibilities.” Aunt Jeannie was important to me, and I wanted to keep this job. “In fact, I will come in right after I’ve taken care of this, okay? Try and see if whoever is on for the later shift can swap, okay?”

  She hesitated. “Okay.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “I promise I will be there as soon as I can.”

  Unfortunately, that was a promise I would be unable to keep.

  ***

  Becca and I met up at a café near Irene Sullivan’s apartment. She was very different from the girl I had met yesterday, much more serious and focused. I could imagine her as a witch now, despite her prom-queen looks. That, coupled with the fact that Zack had obviously thought her competent, inspired enough confidence in me that I actually believed we could pull this off.

  Yet again, I had kept Sarah from attending a class because I’d called her to her dorm room for an emergency makeup session. I needed to look the same as I had the other day when I’d visited Sam’s mom. Becca didn’t have the problem of looking too young. She had just pulled her blond hair into a severe bun, put on red lipstick, and rocked a black, figure-hugging pantsuit.

  I had been waiting for her and was halfway through my cappuccino when she arrived, but she didn’t even order anything and got right down to business. I really would have liked to have talked more about Zack’s visit, but instead, I went along with her suggestions for the spell. I’d brought the spell kit we had bought in Salem, but Becca wanted to use her own consecrated candle. After inspecting the rest of the ingredients, she decided to use the herbs.

  “Okay,” she instructed me as we left the cafe and walked the short distance to Irene’s apartment. “You just do your social services visit thing. Keep her distracted so I can work my magic.”

  When Irene opened the door, she looked as rumpled as the last time I’d visited, but this time, I smelled alcohol on her breath. This wasn’t a hangover; this was an early morning booze session. “Yeah?”

  “Mrs. Sullivan, do you remember me? I came by the other day to ask you about Sam and his father. I’m from DHHS Child Protective Services.”

  It looked as though she had instantly sobered. “Oh, yes. I thought…” Her hazy gaze wandered to Becca. “Who is this?” I could detect fear in her voice and didn’t want to spook her for fear she would close the door on us.

  “This is my colleague Rebecca. Remember we talked about possibly ending these visits if we could establish paternity for Sam? Well, it looks like this possibility is right around the corner. We just need to talk to you one last time.”

  She hesitated, but she didn’t really seem to have the energy to fight us. I took a careful step in her direction, and she backed up, opening the door wider. We charged in.

  Mrs. Sullivan’s apartment pretty much looked the same as last time.

  No, worse, I decided when I swept dirty clothes off the couch to clear a spot. Irene collapsed on the armchair again, and I was almost certain that she’d sat right down on a dirty plate. It didn’t seem to bother her.

  Becca moved around the living room, looking at this and that.

  “First, we have a candle as a little Christmas present for you.” I smiled. “It’s something we take to our… um… clients this time of year.”

  “Christmas?” Irene looked confused. “It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, right?”

  “Yes, yes, a little early. But as I said, hopefully, you’ll have seen the last of us.” I flashed a smile again. “Do you mind if my colleague lights the candle? It’s scented and provides such a nice atmosphere.”

  Irene furrowed her brows. “I guess.”

  “Where is Sam? With his father again?”

  “Oh. Um.” She turned around on her armchair to see what Becca was doing behind her back.

  “We had some reports that Sam hasn’t been at school. That’s bad. If that continues, we might have to take action.”

  That caught her attention. Her head whipped back around, and her eyes widened. “What…” She swallowed. “What kind of action? I thought you said…”

  Behind her, Becca had lit the candle, burned some herbs, and murmured an incantation, which may or may not have been the spell from my Salem spell kit.

  I could see Irene’s pupils dilating so that the black centers almost swallowed the blue irises.

  Becca, still silently murmuring, nodded in my direction.

  “So, Irene”—I cleared my throat—“Sam isn’t really with his father, is he?”

  She lifted her head and looked up, but her eyes were unfocused. “No.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. He ran away.”

  I can’t believe it! This seems to be working. I had to keep myself from jumping on the couch and pumping my fist. A triumphant glance in Becca’s direction kept my emotions in check. She didn’t look excited. In fact, she looked completely in the witch zone—reflective gaze and furrowed brows, as if she was concentrating hard.

  I forced myself to concentrate on what I was there for and forget Becca. She had done her job—or was doing it—so I could do mine. It was best to get on with it.

  “He ran away? Why didn’t you report him missing?”

  Irene shrugged. “I thought I’d get into trouble. They would take Sam away. And I won’t get any benefits anymore.”

  My elation slowly but surely turned into anger. She’d said it so matter-of-factly that I wanted to punch her in the face, for Sam.

  Instead, I bit my lip. “Do you know where Sam’s father is?”

  Something in her expression changed, and she shrank back. Then she shook her head. Her lips trembled.

  “Is it not true, Irene, that he has a cabin on Lake Winnisquam?”

  Irene shook her head, almost surprised. “No. I don’t know. But that’s where we met.”

  Disappointment had started to seep in, but with her last sentence, I perked up again. “Oh? Tell me about that.”

  Irene’s face took on an even more far-away expression. “It was the summer after high school graduation. My friend’s parents had this cabin on Lake Winnisquam, opposite the three islands. We had a party there. My parents didn’t know about it, obviously, or I would h
ave gotten into a shitload of trouble. They thought I was at a sleepover. Oh man, did I get into a shitload of trouble nine months later, though!”

  “Was Sam’s father at this party?”

  Irene laughed and shook her head. “He wasn’t some high-school boy. He was…” Her mouth still moved, but nothing came out.

  I looked at Becca. Irene’s pupils were still dilated, but was the magic wearing off? Becca showed no reaction.

  I decided to continue. “He was what, Irene?”

  “Magnificent,” she breathed, her voice barely audible.

  “If you didn’t meet him at the party, where did you meet him? Outside the cabin?”

  She sighed and leaned her head back against the stack of clothes on the side of the armchair. “Some guy—Ron or Don or something—tried to get it on with me. But I wouldn’t put out. I didn’t do stuff like that. I was a good girl.” She laughed bitterly. “A V-I-R-G-I-N,” she spelled, as if it was a swear word. “Anyway, I ran outside and just walked around. It was really late, almost dawn. When the sun came up, I sat on the shore of the lake. Suddenly, he… appeared. A sliver of sun rose brightly on the horizon, where lake and sky met. It blinded me, and I shielded my eyes with my hand. In that light, he appeared. He walked across the lake on the beam of sunlight. Honest, he did,” she repeated, as if she couldn’t quite believe it herself.

  “First, he was a mere silhouette, backlit by the rising sun. Then, I saw that he was light itself. Beautiful. The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He told me that I was chosen, chosen to mate with him, chosen for my virtue and beauty.” Irene closed her eyes. “That was the first and last time someone told me I was chosen, that I was special.”

  “So you did… it?” I coughed. “Right there?”

  She nodded.

  “And did he just disappear afterward? Did you ever see him again?”

  Irene slowly shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, he disappeared. It had been pure joy—like a chariot carrying me to Heaven. I closed my eyes afterward. When I opened them again, he was gone. I didn’t even think… I didn’t think I had done anything bad, until I found out I was pregnant.”