A Witchin' Winter's Night

by Isabel Micheals

  Scroogey was awakened by the sudden, loud banging in her bedroom. Startled by the noise, she watched in horror as a fairy materialized from the flame of her candle. Wiping the morning dew from her eyes, she looked at the figure floating in her bedroom. “Are you the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?”

  "I am," Camille said, as she flew toward Scroogey. To gain her nemesis' attention, she floated directly in front of her face. When she was positive her message had been received, she flew back toward the center of the room. A few minutes later, she ramped up the glow surrounding her body a few megawatts. She needed her adversary to understand that she meant business.

  “For Goddess’s sake, could you take the glow down a notch? What are you trying to do? Blind me?” Scroogey groused.

  “Why? Are you afraid of what would happen if you snuffed out my flame?” the Ghost of Christmas Past asked.

  Sitting straight up in her bed, Scroogey looked at the strange figure in astonishment. “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “I am the Ghost of Christmas Past,” Camille replied.

  “Who’s past?”

  “Your past. Rise and walk with me,” Camille instructed.

  “Bah humbug! It’s the middle of the night and I’m freezing. Have you missed that I need my sleep? Tomorrow is a very important day. It’s when I seek my revenge on those meddling witches,” Scroogey complained. “Besides, I don’t have my broom, so I can’t fly.”

  “Touch my hand and you will be able to fly,” the Ghost of Christmas Past replied.

  “Fine, but I don’t have to like it,” Scroogey groused.

  Camille ignored her rant and continued toward their first destination. The boarding school they attended as children still looked the same. Once they landed outside of the building, the Ghost of Christmas Past asked, “Do you know this place?”

  “Of course I know this place. It’s where I spent all my holidays as a child. Alone.”

  Camille was startled by Scroogey's confession. So much so, she stuttered a bit before giving her next set of instructions. She had no idea Scroogey had spent all her holidays in the cold, dreary building alone when they were kids. What kind of parents didn’t want to spend Christmas with their child?

  “Um… I mean… Excellent! Lead the way,” Camille finally said.

  Scroogey nodded in agreement and led them to the child in the library. The young lady was the splitting image of Scroogey. Only younger. Her beautiful blue dress should have made her eyes sparkle like the sea on a clear day. But instead, they were filled with sadness and loneliness. They both watched as young Scroogey asked the Goddess whether she was doomed to be alone forever. When no answer came, she walked to the chalkboard. Camille watched the young child trace her left hand. When she was done, she entwined her right hand with the drawing on the board. It was the saddest thing Camille had ever seen. Yet, it gave her some insight into Scroogey’s past. It also broke her heart to realize how lonely and starved for love Scroogey had been as a child.

  Camille stayed until the young Scroogess finished her song. It was heart wrenching to hear her sing about being all alone in the world. But, she knew it had to be done if Scroogey was to change her ways. When the song was over, she said, “Come. Let us see another Christmas.” At their next destination, once again the Ghost of Christmas Past asked, “Do you know this place?”

  “Yes. I know this place. It’s the shop where I was an apprentice to Mistress Lizzie,” Scroogey said in an excited voice. She rushed through the front door with a level of excitement Camille had never seen before. “I can’t believe it. Mistress Lizzie is still alive and as beautiful as ever. I always loved her long, curly, blonde hair and the way there was never a strand out of place. She cared about be me. She also understood the meaning of love, charity, generosity, forgiveness, and Christmas.”

  “Scroogess. Come quickly please?” Mistress Lizzie yelled to young Scroogey.

  “Yes, Mistress Lizzie.”

  “It’s quitting time, my dear. For tonight is Christmas Eve and we must celebrate. Show me what I’ve taught you over this last year. Clear the room and set up a feast for our guests,” Mistress Lizzie ordered.

  “It would be my pleasure, Mistress Lizzie.”

  In a matter of minutes, the room had been cleared and in its place stood a table loaded with food. The huge turkey in the center of the table surrounded by scrumptious side dishes was fit for a King. Scroogess had chosen a beautiful china pattern with Christmas trees to set the table. On a smaller table, there were pumpkin, apple, and sweet potato pies. Even the strongest of men wouldn't be able to resist the mouthwatering treats. To the left of the table, she had placed a beautiful eight foot Christmas tree with all the trimmings. There were enough of presents under the tree for the workers and their families. Scroogess stood back and looked at her new surroundings. There was nothing but pride and joy on her face. Pride for a job well done. Joy because it was the Season of Hope and Love. She loved Christmas, even if her parents hated the holiday.

  Scroogess danced and laughed with the rest of the townspeople throughout the night. She had never been happier. She loved her job and was head-over-heels in love with Beau. He had chosen her over all the other women. Life was good. It had been the best Christmas Party Ever. So much so, she was still talking about it on Christmas Day.

  When everyone disappeared, Scroogess immediately became upset. “Spirit. They’re all gone. They’ve vanished,” she whined.

  “Not quite all,” the Ghost of Christmas Past replied, as she pointed toward young Scroogess.

  “It was a great party,” she said to her co-worker.

  “Yes, it was.”

  “And what a great employer, we have. The best employer in the entire world,” young Scroogess announced. When they were done, Scroogess and her co-worker walked out the door.

  “It was a small matter to make these silly folks feel full of gratitude,” the Ghost of Christmas Past said with pride.

  “Small? Bah humbug!” older Scroogey said to the Ghost of Christmas Past. “That party cost Mistress Lizzie a fortune. What was she thinking of wasting money like that?”

  The Ghost of Christmas Past looked at Scroogey and then shook her head in disappointment. “My time grows short. Come.”

  The next scene almost broke Scroogey, as she watched Beau break up with her because of money of all things. Had she truly been so vein back then and thought only about money? Had Beau been right? Had she lost the love of her life over something as petty as money? When and why had things changed so quickly? To be honest, she couldn’t remember. No matter. She was alone now and had to fend for herself. Maybe she was right after all. A girl had to be able to take care of herself, even if it meant losing the love of her life because the world could be cruel.

  “Spirit. Show me no more. For I cannot handle it. Please. Take me back home,” she cried, as she watched Beau bid the younger her—farewell.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ghost of Christmas Present

  When the clock struck one, the loud bells woke Scroogey once again. Startled by the sudden noise, she groaned and then covered her head with a pillow. Unfortunately for her, Symone would not be denied her day of reckoning. So the bells became louder, which caused Scroogey to sit straight up in bed. The terrified look on her face was evident, which made Symone smile.

  Scroogey removed the covers, swung her feet out of the bed, and slid them into her slippers. She followed the loud booming voice that was chanting her name. The louder the noise, the harder her breathing sounded in her ears. It sounded like water rushing down a stream at full force. Knocking everything out of its way.

  “Come in. Come in, Scroogess Ebesneezer. I await you.”

  Hesitantly, she walked toward the loud voice summoning her. In a shaky voice, she responded, “Yes, I’m coming.” It was still surreal that she was being visited by three ghosts. She hadn’t done anything wrong. So she told a few, little white lies. Every witch did it these days. Why had her lies warra
nted such a punishment? Taking in a deep breath, she forced her feet to continue moving toward the annoying voice. She had to remember that soon this night would be over, and everything would be back to the status quo. More importantly, the Witches Council will have forgotten about her minor indiscretions. But first, she had to survive this night, which was becoming more and more questionable. Time was definitely not on her side, as evident with every stroke of the clock.

  Scroogey rubbed her eyes as she continued walking down the long hallway to her living room. When the door opened on its own accord, she rubbed her eyes to clear the cobwebs. When she looked up again, the Ghost of Christmas Past was sitting in her living room by a roaring fire.

  The Ghost of Christmas Past was a hefty gentleman with a beard, who wore a Santa Claus robe. Scroogey noticed that the top part of his robe was open, revealing his very, very, very hairy chest. It made her a little nauseous.

  “Oh for Goddess’s sake! Have you never heard of manscaping?” she murmured under her breath.

  Letting out a heartily laugh, the Ghost of Christmas Present smiled at Scroogey. “What did you say?”

  “Um. Nothing. Didn’t say a word,” Scroogey quickly replied, as she made a motion with her right hand to show she was zipping up her lips.

  Ignoring her reply, the Ghost of Christmas Present continued laughing. “Come in. Come in. Come in little girl,” Symone encouraged. She sat on a throne that would have made the Queen of England envious. Instead of a crown, a Grecian wreath adorned her head. To her left sat a table loaded with food. There were fruits, double chocolate brownies, and an assortment of Christmas cookies.

  Her friends watched from afar in amazement as she immersed herself in the role. Her transformation was stunning and made Cecelia proud. There was no way Scroogey would ever guess they were behind tonight's shenanigans. She hoped when they were done, Scroogey had found her Christmas Spirit. It was imperative that she finally embraced her role as the new Christmas Witch. Cecelia watched the show with fascination. Symone was doing an excellent job of encouraging Scroogey to walk further into the room.

  “Come in. Come in. I am the Spirit of Christmas Present. You have never seen the likes of me before. Have you?”

  “Never,” Scroogey groused, desperate for this night to be over. “I wish this night had been postponed indefinitely. I mean really. It’s not like I killed anyone. I told a few white lies to the Witches’ Council. Why am I the one being punished when Cecelia, Camille, and Symone used their powers for personal gain? Who cares if they met my challenge and passed it with flying colors? It still doesn’t change the fact that they violated the rules in the Christmas Book of Shadows. It specifically states in Chapter Thirteen, paragraph forty-six, verse three. A witch cannot use her powers for personal gain.”

  “So, is your heart still unmoved by Christmas?”

  “Yes. I mean no. I want them to pay for their crimes. Why are they allowed to use Christmas as an excuse. It’s one day out of the year for Goddess’s sake.” Sighing after her rant, Scroogey looked at the Ghost of Christmas Present. In a defeated voice, she said, “Maybe I am beyond hope. You should go and find someone else who truly enjoys Christmas. My parents were right. I’m incapable of loving Christmas, and will always find the bad in life’s challenges, instead of the good. Go! Please! Leave me to despise Christmas in my own way. It’s obvious that I’m unredeemable.”

  Symone was stunned by Scroogey’s sudden confession. So much so, she was almost tempted to reveal her true identity. But in the end, she knew this had to be done in order for Scroogey to embrace her true destiny as the Christmas Witch. Yet, she realized there was more to the misguided witch than meets the eye. On the surface, she always seemed like a know-it-all witch determined to make everyone’s life a living hell. But she was realizing that like most people, Scroogey had been putting up a façade. The real woman was hurt. Alone. In some ways, tormented by her past. It was the reason she couldn’t embrace the present and struggled to accept her future.

  “Scroogey’s parents sound like a real peace of work,” Camille hissed.

  “I couldn’t agree more. What parent in their right mind tells their child that they can't be redeemed?” Cecelia asked.

  “The same kind who would name their child Scroogey, knowing that it would be a bullseye on her back forever. I don’t even know the whole story, but I already want to light a fire under her parents’ asses. Several well-placed bolts of purple lightning would do them some good. It might knock some sense into them,” Camille replied. She was madder than a hornets’ nest that had been stirred up by a group of meddling kids. What Scroogey’s parents had done to her was incomprehensible. She and her sister, Cami, had loving parents who would do anything for them. Well, anything within reason. She was pretty sure that murder was off the table.

  “If you do decide to go that route, I’ve got your back. It’s horrible what Scroogey’s parents have done to her,” Cecelia whispered.

  “Ladies, while I find your compassion for Scroogey touching, it’s time to zip it. We have a job to do here tonight and if you’re chatting, then you’re not listening,” Mistress Fiona scolded.

  “Yes, Mistress Fiona,” both women murmured.

  “Scroogess Ebesneezer. We Spirits of Christmas do not live only one day of the year. We live three-hundred and sixty-five days of the year. The same as the child of Bethlehem. He lives in the hearts of witches, warlocks, and mere mortals every day of the year. For some reason, you have chosen not to seek him in your heart. Why? You will come to seek him in the hearts of witches and warlocks of good will. I promise,” the Ghost of Christmas Present insisted.

  Scroogey was reluctant to take the Ghost of Christmas Present’s hand, but she did. In a matter of minutes, they were floating through the air. She had never realized how beautiful the clouds were until now. It’s like that ole’ saying, you never realize how good something is until you’re in danger of losing it. If she didn’t figure a way out of this mess, she’d never fly among the clouds again.

  When they landed, Scroogey looked at the run down house and then asked, “Whose house is this?”

  “Have you never been here before?” the Ghost of Christmas Present replied in a booming voice.

  “Of course not. Who lives here?” Scroogey asked again.

  “Your former assistant, Cratchette. You know, the kind soul you fired for finally standing her ground.”

  When Scroogey looked in the window, she saw a happy family. Even though their circumstances were dire, Cratchette's family embraced the Spirit of Christmas. They were singing and dancing around the table like they didn’t have a care in the world. It was obvious there wasn’t enough food for all them to eat, but that didn’t seem to matter. A few minutes later, she watched as a little girl with a wooden foot walk up and hug Cratchette. She couldn’t help but wonder who had a wooden foot. Given the miracles of modern medicine and witchcraft, it seemed implausible.

  “A child who can’t afford proper health care. The miser her mother works for believes children like her shouldn’t roam the Earth."

  “What? I never said that,” Scroogey countered.

  “Didn’t you? Think carefully before you answer,” the ghost cautioned.

  Scroogey decided it was in her best interest to change the subject. Or better yet, remain silent. It was obvious the annoying ghost wanted her to see something. What he wanted her to see was still a mystery.

  “Mommy. Mommy. I want you to hear my new song,” Tiny Tina said excitedly.

  Cratchette smiled at her daughter and took a seat. She was slowly slipping away and there wasn't a thing she could do. It broke her heart to imagine a life without her daughter. She had created an entire stage with make believe lights. A fake faux fur was wrapped around her neck, and a wooden spoon acted as her microphone.

  “Okay, mama. Use your imagination,” Tiny Tina instructed. A few minutes later, she began singing her own version of Tina Turner’s Private Dancer.

  I’m your tiny da
ncer, a dancer for money

  I’ll do what I need to for food

  I’m your tiny dancer, a dancer for money

  And any leftovers will do

  I want to make a zillion dollars

  So mommy never has to work for Scroogey again

  Cause she is not a nice person

  I wonder why she is so mean to women

  I’m your tiny dancer, a dancer for money

  I’ll do what I need to for food

  I’m your tiny dancer, a dancer for money

  And any leftovers will do

  When her daughter finished, Cratchette wasn’t sure whether to cry, laugh. She had told the truth about Mistress Scroogess, so she couldn't scold her. It was obvious her daughter had seen more than she’d realized over the last couple of years. Although she had done her best to hide her troubles from Tiny Tina, it seemed as though she had failed miserably. Instead of focusing on the negative, she applauded her daughter’s performance. When Tiny Tina hobbled to her, she gave her daughter a big hug. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Now, I need to finish making dinner."

  "Merry Christmas, mama."

  Scroogey wiped the tears streaming down her face and asked, “What will happen to Tiny Tina if she doesn’t get a leg?”

  “I see a vacant seat at Cratchette’s table before the year is up if things remain the same. Time is running out for Tiny Tina, but that’s none of your concern. Now is it?” the Ghost of Christmas Present replied with as much disdain in his voice as possible. Deep down, Symone hoped and prayed to the Goddess that Scroogey would wake up and smell the coffee. How could she not after witnessing Cratchette’s and Tiny Tina’s dire situation? Unfortunately, only time would tell.

  “I’ve seen enough. Take me home. Now!” Scroogey exclaimed, as tears continued to stream down her face. What have I done? How could I have not known about Cratchette and Tiny Tina’s situation? What has happened to me? she thought.