“Did you just call me a biach?” Scroogey asked furiously.
“Hmm. How do I answer that?” Symone pondered.
“I think it’s safest to just voice the truth,” Camille encouraged.
“You’re right, Cami.” Turning back toward their archenemy, she smiled and simply said, “Yes.”
Appalled by Symone’s response, Scroogey gasped and then placed a hand over her chest before saying, “Well, I never.”
“Honey, you have on more than one occasion been a biach. In fact, I would guess every day of your life,” Symone promptly replied with as much sarcasm in her voice as possible to let the evil witch know she meant business.
“Enough! Scroogey, speak your peace and leave,” Cecelia demanded.
Placing her hands on her hips as a show of defiance, Scroogey eventually gave in once she realized that they were prepared to wait her out. “Fine. Since you have violated multiple rules in the Christmas Book of Shadows and you’ve used your powers for personal gain, I’m here to inform you of your punishment.”
“What are you going to do? Slap us on the hand and send us to our rooms,” Camille asked, obviously not taking their nemesis seriously.
“Hmm. If only it were that simple,” Scroogey replied with an evil grin.
It was obvious from the look on her face and the gleam in her eyes that she had a secret up her sleeve, which made Cecelia nervous. If she was truly a member of the Witches Council, then she could wield an unfathomable amount of power over them. She just wondered if it would be just.
“Oh for Goddess’s sake, just spill it,” Symone demanded. She too was fed up with all the games. They’d do their penance and this nonsense would all be over—hopefully sooner, rather than later because she needed a drink and a brownie. Not necessarily in that order.
“Since I’ve been designated the new Christmas Witch on the Witches Council, I’m giving you two choices out of the kindness of my heart.”
“That’s ironic given she doesn’t have one,” Camille groused.
“Wait! How did you become the new Christmas Witch? Don’t you hate Christmas?” Cecelia asked.
“Um. Not really! Granted, it’s not my favorite time of the year, but I’m not opposed to a teeny-tiny bit of Christmas cheer. I guess. If you must,” Scroogey said with disdain.
“Your name is Scroogey. If that’s not a Christmas Hater, I don’t know what is,” Symone insisted. “You lied to the Witches Council about loving Christmas, didn’t you?”
“No, I did not lie,” she replied with very little conviction. I just didn’t tell the whole truth, but no one needs to know that—ever.
“Mm-hmm,” Symone said with a knowing look.
“Like it or not, I’m the new Christmas Witch, so quit stalling. As I mentioned before, I’m giving you two options out of the goodness of my heart.”
“Which are?” Cecelia asked. She still didn’t trust the spiteful witch no matter how much she professed to love Christmas. The woman was about as anti-Christmas as it comes. How the Witches Council hadn’t seen through the wicked witch’s farce was beyond her, but she was their problem now. Well, she was actually her problem at the moment.
“Your first option is to cease using your magic for Christmas and personal gain. You will not be allowed to see one another for an entire year. If for some reason, you meet before Christmas Eve of next year, all deals are off and you will be reprimanded to the pokey.”
“Fine. It’s done. That’s your big punishment?’ Camille asked.
Through gritted teeth, Scroogey said, “I wasn’t finished. On Christmas Eve of next year, you will be required to shop for your Christmas presents like the humans. If for any reason, you use your magic, the contract will be null and void and you will be sent to the pokey for the next five-to-ten years.”
“What if we are successful?” Symone asked. She was ready, willing, and able to take on Scroogey’s challenge.
“If you’re successful, which, let’s face it, you won’t be. Your past indiscretions will be forgotten and no mark will go on your record.”
“You said there were two options. What’s the second option?” Cecelia asked.
“I’m so glad you asked. The second option gets to the heart of the matter. You agree to be placed in the pokey and serve out your time, which is once again is five-to-ten years,” Scroogey said with a shit eating grin that made Cecelia want to sock her in the face.
“Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Why in the Hades would we ever agree to that?” Camille asked, as she advanced toward the royal pain in her ass. She was going to snap the twit in two and then go eat the rest of the sugar cookies. Fortunately, Cecelia stopped her from making things worse just in the nick of time.
“Look! Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“Why not? It sounds pretty good to me right now,” Symone snapped.
“Everyone, please calm down. We’ll take the first option on one condition. We get to spend the rest of this Christmas Eve together,” Cecelia countered.
“There’s not a snowball’s chance in Hades I’m going to let you do that—ever,” she replied.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“Let me snap her in two now and we’ll all feel better,” Camille begged.
“Tsk. Tsk. You better me nice to me, or I’ll change my mind about your options,” Scroogey warned.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Cecelia said.
“Oh, I would,” she assured them.
“We want to speak with someone else on the Witches Council. If you’re new, then that means you have a mentor. We demand to speak with her now,” Cecelia insisted in a voice that brokered no argument.
“Fine, but it won’t do you any good. The Council is in complete agreement with my punishment options,” Scroogey replied, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
A few moments later, an older, kinder looking witch by the name of Fiona appeared. Cecelia remembered her from Witchery U. She had been reasonable as a professor, she just hoped that hadn’t changed over the years.
“How may I be of service to you, my child?”
“Hello Mistress Fiona. It’s good to see you again,” Cecelia said with a curtsey.
“It’s good to see you as well, my dear. Once again, how may I be of service to you?” she asked.
“We have agreed to the terms of Scroogess’s punishment on one condition. Since we won’t be able to see one another for an entire year, we would like to spend the rest of this Christmas Eve together. We promise not to use our magic, and will adhere to the rules placed before us. Would this be possible?” Cecelia asked. Hope and desperation rolling off her in waves.
“I don’t see why not. I’ll grant your request, as long as you promise to adhere to the rules of your punishment.”
“Thank you Mistress Fiona! We hope you have a Merry Christmas,” Cecelia said, utterly relieved.
“Merry Christmas to you as well, my children.”
It was obvious Scroogey wasn’t happy with Mistress Fiona’s decision by the look on her face, but Cecelia could care less. She had ruined her production of “The Nutcracker”, not to mention her entire Christmas Eve and upcoming year, if she were being honest. It would be difficult not seeing her friends for a whole year. However, she’d make sure they met the terms of the evil witch’s stupid punishment and have a wonderful time doing it just to spite her. Besides, it would serve her right and bring them much joy. That ole saying was definitely true, “Revenge is a dish best served cold,” so she planned to bury Scroogey in a blizzard of Yuletide Joy next Christmas Eve.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Whew! I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m exhausted after all this drama,” Symone whined, as she flopped down on the sofa and tried to relax. Now, if she had a double, chocolate-chip fudge brownie and a cup of hot chocolate, the night would be perfect.
“Drama? That’s an understatement. Did you miss the part about us not being able to see each ot
her for an entire year? What are we going to do about Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day, St. Paddy’s Day, and the biggest of them all, Halloween? How can we not be together on All Hallows Eve? Do you know how many baked goods of Cecelia’s I’m going to miss out on next year? This is just so unfair,” Camille groused, as she desperately looked around for another sugar cookie.
“I’m sorry guys. This is all my fault, but I promise on the Northern Lights that I will make all of this right,” Cecelia said, as she held out a platter loaded down with hot chocolate, marshmallows, sugar cookies, gingerbread cookies, and double, chocolate-chip brownies.
When her friends saw the goodies placed before them, they simply melted. “How did you know?” Symone asked.
“Hey, I pay attention and knew the moment you walked through the door with that sour puss face that you were suffering from brownie withdrawals. It’s the same thing that happens to that one over there when she doesn’t get enough sugar cookies. So, I made extra batches this year and thought it would be perfect as we watched more movies, enjoyed the beauty of the Christmas tree and took in the Christmas Spirit.”
“You’re the one who should be sitting on the Witches Council as the new Christmas Witch. Not Scroogey. She doesn’t know the meaning of the words Christmas Spirit, whereas, you eat, live and breathe it three-hundred and sixty-five days of the year. You really missed your calling there,” Symone stated, matter of fact.
“I agree,” Camille said with a moan, as she bit into another sugar cookie. “Not to mention you make the best cookies I’ve ever tasted, and that’s saying a lot given how long I’ve lived.”
“Thanks, sweets! Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Cecelia said in a choked voice. She really loved her friends. They were the absolute best. Instead of being mad at her, they were complimenting her cooking and encouraging her to go after the Christmas Witch position, which wasn’t a bad idea. It was obvious Scroogey didn’t have the heart or the spirit for the job, which was a shame because there was so much hope and joy she could spread throughout the world to make it a better place.
“Um… CeCe! What about them?” Symone asked, as she bit into her second double, chocolate-chip brownie with delight.
Looking around her living room, she realized the performers were still waiting for instructions. She really hated to send them back, especially given she hadn’t gotten a chance to dance the Sugar Plum Fairy dance. Unfortunately, that was not to be tonight. Maybe next year, she would try again once she took over the position of the Christmas Witch. Yeah, that might work. Plus, it would give her something to look forward to all year long because she was already missing her best friends. Without another thought, she began chanting a spell that would send the dancers home.
I thank the Goddess for this very magical time of the year,
Filled with twirling snowflakes, waltzing flowers, sparkling Sugar Plum Fairies, and Christmas Cheer,
Although, our Nutcracker production was interrupted by a Christmas Witch overflowing with vinegar and blunder,
This magical night was still filled with joy, great friends, and wonder,
But now it’s time to bid farewell,
To an amazing group of performers who made my heart swell,
I promise on the wings of the Northern Lights,
To spread the Spirit of Christmas each and every night,
By the power of the Goddess and the Magic of Old Saint Nick,
So mote it be!
When everyone had disappeared and the room had been restored to its natural beauty, Symone smiled at her best friend and said, “You do realize you just used magic and violated our agreement with Scroogey, right?”
“I do. But in my defense, it was the only way to return things to normal, which was also one of her ridiculous requests. She can’t have her cake and eat it too,” Cecelia replied with a smirk.
“Does she know that?” Camille asked, reaching for one of Symone’s double chocolate-chip, fudge brownies.
“Put. It. Back,” Symone ordered, as she slapped the brownie out of Camille’s hand.
“Hey! That hurt,” Camille exclaimed.
“I meant for it to. You’ve eaten enough sugar tonight to raise the dead. You don’t get to hoard my brownies.”
“Spoil sport! Besides, raising the dead is CeCe’s job, not mine.”
“You know it! Now, what movie are we going to watch?” Symone asked, as she sipped her hot chocolate with whipped cream and a peppermint stick. Cecelia had added a cute marshmallow snowman on the top with a hat made out of a chocolate Hershey bar to entice them even more. Fortunately, she didn’t need any further convincing. In all honesty, she was a goner the minute those delicious smells came wafting from the kitchen.
The idea quickly forming in her head, Cecelia suddenly said, “A Christmas Carol.”
With a raised eyebrow and a questioning look on her face, Camille said, “Uh-oh! I don’t like the look on your face. You’re up to something. I can tell.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cecelia replied, as she popped in the DVD and turned on the television.
“You know exactly what she’s talking about. That gleam in your eye could only mean trouble because you’re up to something, so spill it,” Symone encouraged.
“Well, I thought after we meet our Christmas Eve obligation next year, we’d give Scroogey a taste of her own medicine. You know, help her find her Christmas Spirit—so to speak.”
“How?” Camille and Symone asked, intrigued by the idea and curious as to what their friend had up her sleeve.
“By giving her a dose of her own medicine. Next year’s production will be “A Christmas Carol”. So ladies, start thinking about which Spirit you want to perform. You have an entire year to perfect your role. I’m officially giving you full creative autonomy. I’ll handle the set design. It’s time we take the new Christmas Witch down a peg.”
“I love it! We just need to disguise ourselves so we don’t end up in the pokey,” Camille insisted.
“I agree with Camille. I’ve heard there are some crazy witches roaming around in there,” Symone chimed in.
“Like who?” Cecelia inquired.
“First off, Serena. It’s no secret in Bass Ackwards that she inherited a little Dark Magic and went all Fatal Attraction on Alec and Sophie. Some claimed once she embraced the Dark Side, it turned her beautiful blonde locks an inky black. In addition, her fair features disappeared and was replaced with a Gothic look that didn’t do her justice by any means. She looked like Edward Scissorhands on steroids. They said her need for revenge and the quest for love sent her over the edge. I have no desire to be a cell mate with someone like that on my worst day,” Symone stated in no uncertain terms.
“Okay, so one crazy witch derailed off the tracks and now we’re all afraid of the pokey?” Cecelia asked, still confused.
“You do realize there’s more than one crazy witch in the pokey, right? I heard Zoe and Zara’s sister spent a little time there as well. You know, for abusing her magic. My understanding is that she’s on the straight and narrow now, but I don’t want to push the Fates. So, are you sure you want to test Scroogey’s patience?” Camille asked. She hated to spoil her friend’s fun, but she had to put the consequences out there, which was usually Symone’s job.
“I’m aware of the risks and if you don’t want to help that’s fine, but someone needs to put Scroogey in her place. She either needs to find her Christmas Spirit, or she needs to resign as the Christmas Witch. It’s not right, and I can’t—no won’t—standby and do nothing. She’s tricked the Witches Council and she needs to be punished, just like we were tonight,” Cecelia insisted. “Besides, there’s not a snowball’s chance in Hades we’ll end up like Serena.”
“I don’t know. If tonight wasn’t a perfect example of how Christmas Crazy you’ve become, then I don’t know what is,” Symone said in a soothing voice. She hoped her honesty hadn’t hurt her best friend’s feelings, but it needed to be sai
d. If they were going to do this, all of their cards needed to be on the table.
“Christmas Crazy? I’m not Christmas Crazy,” Cecelia vehemently denied.
“Honey, we just did a live performance of “The Nutcracker” in your living room. Granted, we didn’t get to the Sugar Plum Fairy dance, but that’s beside the point. In addition to your little performance, there’s enough Christmas Spirit in this room to cheer up a depressed Third World country. Now, the baked goods are the bomb-diggity, so you can keep making those all day long. But in all honesty, when you take in this feast of Christmas Joy, you’ve gone a little Christmas Crazy,” Symone explained.
“Fine! I may have gone a little Christmas Crazy this year, but I wasn’t alone. You ladies need to accept your role in my madness because you love Christmas as much as I do.”
“Sweetie, we love shopping and your baking, so it doesn’t take much to convince us to dress up like the Mouse King or The Nutcracker. You know Cami will do anything for a sugar cookie. It’s the fuel that keeps her going year round. As for myself, I’ve never been able to turn down a designer bag, or shoe, or coat. High fashion is my life and I’m proud of it,” Symone said in a dreamy voice. Designer anything for me is the equivalent of Sugar Plum Fairies dancing in children’s heads.”
A Witchin' Winter's Night Page 3
