by J L Gillham
It only takes me a moment to backtrack, tie the cord to the foot of the bench hiding the open vent, and unravel it as I continue. At first, I decide to take a left every time I have that option. Maybe if my cord runs out that’ll help. However, half the choices are between a straight or right, so I abandon the left only idea.
“Gross,” I say as I wipe a spiderweb from my face. Then I pan the light around in search of the creator. No luck. I decide to move a little slower to avoid inhaling any more spiderwebs.
My sense of time abandons me. Am I now below the arboretum or some other building connected by these vents? As long as my headlamp or cord don’t run out, I decide to keep going.
My knees ache from crawling on them. If I do this again, I’ll have to invest in some kneepads. At least I’m not claustrophobic. I wouldn’t have made it five feet if I was.
These vents are so small and dark, no one in their right mind would think it was a good idea to slink around in them—no one except me and maybe a bat. At the thought of the winged creature, I pause. I’ve seen a few when venturing into the caves at the western section of the mountains. But I’m sure none would’ve made their way here. At least, that’s what I tell myself so that I keep going.
Eventually, I realize I’m going downhill on a gradual slope. I’ve sung my newest song four times before I level out. I must be underground somewhere.
After ten minutes of crawling straight ahead, I pause at the first junction offering a left and right choice. I decide on left and continue on my way. When the sweat from my forehead drips onto my lips, I decide to call it quits. What do I expect to find anyway? A tunnel that’ll take me right outside the barrier to Winter Wonderland? Doubtful.
I wipe my sleeve across my forehead and stop, giving myself a few seconds of rest before I begin the return journey. That’s when I sneeze. An odd scent tickles my nose. I sniff, trying to recognize it. Instead of being rewarded with recognition, I sneeze again.
With renewed curiosity, I follow the odor, taking a left. A few seconds later I spy a grate against the side wall. Fortunately, there are no screws for me to remove. With a shove, the grate falls to the floor. I cringe as it makes a banging sound.
I crawl out of the vents, and still using my headlamp, I see that I am alone in the room. There is a light switch, but when I flick it nothing happens. The thick layer of dust coating the table and chair let me know I’m this room’s first visitor in years.
There’s a metal cot with a thin mattress. Someone must’ve used this room to sleep in. But why?
In less than three seconds, I’ve attached the string of yarn to a leg of the cot. Now one end starts at the arboretum and the other here, wherever here is. After a quick use of my pocket knife, I place the little bit that’s left of the yarn ball back into a pocket.
I plop my bag onto the cot and walk toward the wall. There are square-shaped cutouts like in the catacombs under Homebase. That’s when an idea occurs to me.
I walk to the door and pull on the handle. To my surprise, it’s locked. I jiggle it harder. All the doors in Homebase have a simple button to push that locks them from the inside. This is one of those kinds of doors where you need a key to lock or unlock it from either side. I can’t be positive, but I’d bet a week’s worth of sugar cookies that on the other side of the door is the catacombs.
And then it dawns on me. This is some sort of cell. That’s why the odd locking system. I whip around, seeing the room in an entirely new light. That would explain the cot and fact that this room has no windows, but there’s no bathroom. And why would there be a need for a cell in Winter Wonderland?
I try one more time. “Hello. Anyone there?” I yell as I bang on the door. Nothing.
Moving toward the cutouts built into the wall, I can see two rows are filled with books all written in the snowflake alphabet. The first book is titled The History of Santa. I flip through the pages, then sneeze as dust wafts into the air. Though I’ve never glimpsed this book before, there are others similar to it in the library. Most books about my familial line all have the same information. I put the book back in its exact place, as if a librarian is standing over my shoulder ready to yell at me for it being shelved incorrectly.
The rest of the books in this row are about science and geography. I’m about to look elsewhere when a thin, yellow booklet catches my eye. The cover must’ve fallen off and been discarded at some point. Unfortunately, the title page is missing as well. Flipping to a random page toward the center, I read a subtitle about the ceremony where Santa is given his magical gifts.
Perfect. I can learn all about what will happen to me in less than two weeks. That way I’ll feel more prepared. Then again, not even knowing details about my future or anything else will ever truly prepare me for something I dread and want nothing to do with.
For a moment, I consider bringing all the books with me, but there are no bags to put them in. My shoulders are already sore from hunching and crawling. Instead, I tuck the booklet between my waist and the utility belt. Maybe I’ll come back and return a few to their rightful place in the library each time I return here. And I know this is one X on my grid I won’t mind coming back to.
As exciting as my discovery is, the longer I spend here, the more I feel like I’m being watched. I decide to take one last look before heading back. The top row has four glass beakers, the kind used in a science kit. They are empty; however, the scent I smelled when I was in the vents definitely came from these. I take a step back and plug my nose. Being so close to the odor that reminds me of burnt hair convinces me it’s time to go.
I’m unsure how to put the grate back on from the inside of the vent, so I decide to leave it on the floor. I take a deep breath as I return to the darkness. The journey back is faster than I imagined, possibly because there is no exploration, just a desire to be out of the vents. As I inch along, I continue to run my fingers along the ball of string, my breadcrumbs leading me home.
Along with learning the snowflake alphabet and doing the Santa Simulations, part of my education also included wayfinding. It’s only now I realize I should’ve been making up a story or song as I moved along the vents toward the room I found. That way I wouldn’t need the string if I come back.
Though I have no sense of time, I imagine it’s been at least 30 minutes of my scurrying through the vents like a mouse. When I see a bright light, I know I’ve made it to the exit. Unceremoniously, I slide out of the opening onto the floor, then continue until no longer underneath the wooden bench.
“And what might you be up to?” Aksel strides toward me with a spray bottle and rags.
I cover my eyes with my hands, not used to the brightness yet. As I think up a lie, Aksel offers an answer for me.
“I know. You heard about how some of the vents have mold growing in them. And you decided to rid them of the unwanted spores all on your own.” He raises an eyebrow.
“Exactly,” I say as I take my hands down. Although blinking rapidly I am almost able to see normally now.
“Great. Since you have decided to take on this quest all by yourself,” he pauses. Then in a quieter voice adds, “and since you wouldn’t want me sharing your exploring the vents with your parents...” He resumes speaking in a normal volume, “you can finish with the vents above the arboretum.”
I smirk. Touché. “Yes, I guess I will be finishing my quest. Alone.”
Aksel grins as he offers me his spray bottle and rags. He points to the vent that’ll lead me to the ductwork above.
I use a ladder then hoist myself up. For some reason, being high up instead of underground makes me more nervous. As I work, I wonder if Aksel or the other elves will resent me for dodging my Santa responsibilities. I’m sure Jolly will feel like his years of preparing my simulations was a waste.
During my time, I find three spores each smelling fouler than the previous one. I scan the last section with my headlamp. Just past the filter that takes up almost the entire size of one piece of sheetrock, I spy the
last of the mold.
“Fiddle-d-fizz,” I say when I come to the filter. On the positive side, light passes through it, so this section isn’t as dark. However, on the negative side, falling through the filter isn’t the way I want to end my time in the vents.
It was all fun and games when I was exploring; however, climbing precariously around this filter will require nothing less than full exertion. Once I’ve cleansed the vents from the last spore, I head to the exit. There isn’t any room to turn around in this tight space. So instead, I crab walk backward.
“Whoa!” I shout as I fall through the filter I forgot about in my haste. Although a bush breaks my fall, every bone in my body hurts.
“I’ve heard of a girl falling for a guy, but you took it to a whole new level,” comes a voice nearby.
I look around. Above me is the hole where the filter used to be. Dust is floating all around. Then I look down and see I’m sitting on Finn’s back.
Before I have a second to hop off, I glance into his face. And then I sneeze. At least this time I turned my head before spraying him again. Then I cover my hand over my mouth and nose right before I sneeze again.
Finally, I crawl off Finn and stand. He sits up and does a shake of his entire body like a wet dog. Aksel strides toward us. He shakes his head but says nothing. Then he drops a broom and dustpan onto the floor beside me.
“I can get this,” I say in the most forceful tone I can manage.
“I don’t mind helping.” Finn stands and walks over to the bent filter that fell from the ceiling. Finn drags it to a wall. Aksel mutters something about fixing the filter later and heads off. I bite my lip, unease blanketing me now that Finn and I are alone.
I busy myself with sweeping. Fortunately, Finn doesn’t make small talk. Instead, he rummages around the soil in the nearby plants, picking up some smaller pieces of the of the filter that broke off. A few minutes later I dump the dust into a trashcan then put the cleaning supplies near the panel. As I walk toward Finn, I begin coming up with excuses of why I need to leave.
“Guess I’ll head back to the game now.” Finn says, then turns and jogs off.
I am about to shout another apology, but I’m sure he’s out of earshot. I watch him as he nears the exit. A moment before leaving, he turns and waves at me. Before I can decide if he can see a scowl from that distance or if I should instead wave back, he’s gone.
With a sigh, I look up at the ceiling with the hole in it. Then to the broken filter against the wall. Maybe I should just forgive Finn. He did help me clean up. And he didn’t complain about my falling onto him today or running into him yesterday. I begin singing quietly as I walk toward the exit. It’s been an entire year since he hurt my feelings. That’s long enough to hold a grudge, right?
I feel the tentacles of resentment around my heart loosening. However, the image of Finn and the other two girls laughing at Finn calling me a flirt fills my mind. With that, the tentacles threaten to slide back into position, now more secure than ever.
I think of how poorly I’ve treated my parents lately and how much they still love me. Maybe Finn regrets his hurtful words and is trying to make up for them. Although I don’t trust him with my heart, I can work toward trusting him as a friend.
I look down at my utility belt but can’t find the booklet I discovered earlier. The little booklet must have fallen out sometime during my journey. “Fiddle-d-fizz!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After reclaiming my coat, I head to the library in Homebase. As I pass by the game in action, I watch Finn go up against Dirk, the other boy from town. Aurora is on the sidelines. Where did Nicky go?
“You can do it, Dirk!” Aurora shouts. When he scores, she runs over and hugs him. Then Finn gives Dirk a high five. I watch as both boys return to their spots. Aurora plasters a permanent goofy grin on her face as she stares at Dirk.
Huh, I could’ve sworn she liked Nicky. Maybe I was wrong. Just then, Nicky rejoins the group. He hands Aurora a hat.
Finn pats Nicky on the back, then jogs over toward me. As Nicky takes Finn’s place, the two boys resume playing one-on-one snowball soccer. I gulp and force myself not to frown.
“Hey, Noelle. Want to join us?” Finn asks.
I stare at him without answering, like my mouth is full of cotton balls. Wishing I’d taken a pit stop to look in the mirror first, I begin running my fingers through my hair to get out the cobwebs.
“Or were you just coming to be my cheerleader?” he teases.
After five seconds of trying to come up with a snarky response, I realize I’ve been holding his gaze the entire time. I look away, not wanting him to misinterpret my mental fog for a desire to spend an eternity gazing at his hot chocolate eyes. “Just taking a break to see who’s winning.” While rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I sneak a peek at Finn out of the corner of my eyes. Fortunately, he’s watching the game. I shove my hands in my pockets and turn my attention back to the sport before me. A few minutes pass as the snowball is kicked back and forth.
“So, how’s it going in the most magical place in the world?” Finn sits on a nearby log.
I pause. Do I make up some excuse about needing to go or take the spot next to him? I glance at the entrance to Homebase then back at Finn. What I should be doing is focusing on my mission and deciding on the next grid to check. What I do is sit down.
“Magically, of course,” I respond in a teasing tone.
We sit in silence for a moment and watch the game before us. Nicky steals the ball from Dirk and scores. I smile thinking about my big find today. Next time I go back I’ll bring a backpack to put the books in.
“I really love it here, but...” His anything but sarcastic tone confuses me.
I turn and face him.
He glances at me and gives me the ghost of a smile. “I love my town, but sometimes I just need to get away. That’s when I make an excuse to come here. However, if I was stuck in either place and unable to leave...” He doesn’t finish his sentence but shakes his head. “Usually, I visit my uncle on his ranch in Oklahoma. He’s growing older and needs more help to get things done around the house. A couple times a year I head there to be his free handyman.”
I bite my lip, trying to imagine Finn in a cowboy hat and boots. There is a moment of silence. Before I can change my mind, I speak. “I would give anything to be able to get out.” The amount of venom in my voice surprises me. But I don’t care. I’ve spoken my truth. “Even if was to just visit your town nearby.” I chuckle, then add, “Or Oklahoma.”
I feel good. Even if it is with someone I am just beginning to trust. I’m grateful Finn doesn’t turn to face me. With a sigh, I continue. “Something more for you to tease me about.”
“I’ll add it to my list.” He lightly rams his shoulder into mine. Then in a quieter tone, he says, “I can’t imagine what you are going through.”
Tears begin pooling in my eyes. I force myself not to blink. Instead, I take a deep breath and stare straight ahead. Maybe letting Finn become a friend wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“I mean with a brother as compassionate, sweet, and selfless as Nicky, why would you ever want to get away from him?” Finn says.
In spite of myself, I can’t help but laugh. And it feels good. “Don’t let him hear you say those things. He’ll make sure you include charming and handsome.”
We sit there a few more minutes. Once the current game ends, Aurora switches from cheerleader to player. She faces off against Dirk. Nicky comes to join us. He sits right between Finn and me.
“Think you and your sister want to swing by for another round tomorrow?” Nicky asks. Just then, Tiny lumbers over toward us. He plops down in front of Nicky who obliges by rubbing behind the polar bear’s ears.
“Sure thing. Oh, wait. I forgot it’s her birthday.” Finn bends over and scoops up a handful of snow. He packs it into a ball, then launches it toward Dirk. The ball misses its mark.
“Her birthday? Do you think she’d lik
e to...” Nicky pauses and looks around. “What about a picnic? I could build a giant igloo. And we could have some snacks.”
“I guess. Honestly, though, she loves anything warm. You could get her a mug or a heated blanket.” Finn glances in my direction. I busy myself rubbing my hands against my arms.
“No, that’s not special enough.” Nicky puffs out his chest. “Then it’s settled,” he finishes without an explanation.
“Are you going to bring a heater to the igloo? Not sure how well that’ll work for you,” Finn teases. To my surprise, Nicky doesn’t seem the least bit annoyed. If I teased my brother, he’d not only torment back, but amp up the level of teasing.
“I’ll take her to the beach, one that’s warm.” Nicky rises and begins pacing. “And, you too of course,” he says to Finn.
I hear him murmuring the names of potential countries with warm beaches this time of year as he plans his destination. Tiny whimpers at Nicky’s sudden lack of attention.
“That would be awesome, but how?” Finn takes up the post of petting Tiny. The polar bear closes his eyes.
“I’ll just borrow the back-up sleigh. We’ll ride in style.” Nicky pumps his fist into the air and pauses his pacing.
“Great! You provide the magical transportation and I’ll provide the food,” Finn responds, without pausing from petting Tiny.
“Okay, the three of us will meet up at eight a.m. to get an early start.” Nicky resumes pacing.
“Don’t you mean four of us?” Finn glances in my direction.
Nicky rolls his eyes when he realizes I am the fourth person Finn is referring to. “She doesn’t want to go.”
“Oh, yes I do!” I put my hands on my hips.
“Even if you wanted to come,” Nicky holds his hands up and shrugs without finishing. I knew what he’d say. That there’s no way I could get out without setting off an alarm.
Nicky’s unaware that I trusted Finn with the big secret about the evil elf and why I never leave Winter Wonderland. I don’t inform my brother.
