I.D. Johnson's Blog, page 4

The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas Chapter 16

Hello! Here is Chapter 16. Only 4 more chapters to go (I think!) Keep in mind this hasn't been edited yet. Please feel free to leave a comment about your thoughts on the story so far. If you'd like to read from the beginning, please click here.
St. NicholasAs Corey led Serendipity throw the town square, everyone they met greeted him by name, with a cheerful smile, and a welcoming nod to his newest recruit, though most of them had no idea who she was at this juncture. Serendipity would have liked to stop and speak to each of them--every elf, toymaker, child, and some she wasn’t even sure of (perhaps a fairy or gnome?)--as they crossed her path, but Corey insisted they would have time later to chat with the current residence, and he continued to draw her along the snow covered path, her arm still locked securely through his.Approaching the large structure Serendipity had marveled at from the air, she took a deep breath and stopped in her tracks, attempting to take it all in. Corey let go of her arm and stood a few steps in front, waiting for her to recover.  “Is this Santa’s workshop?” she asked, her hands clasped together in front of her face.“Yes, of course,” Corey nodded, gesturing towards the large carved wooden sign that hung across most of the length of the building atop the span of two sets of double doors. It read, in big block print, “Santa’s Workshop.”“Right,” Serendipity nodded, realizing that if she could read, she would have known that.  Her face lost a bit of the glimmer from before, but she still stared in awe. “How amazing!” she whispered, looking up at several stories of glass windows and the brightly dressed elves scurrying about with various toys, different patterns of wrapping paper, and other items essential to making and finishing off Christmas presents.Corey hadn’t considered the fact that Serendipity was not capable of reading the sign until after he had pointed it out to her, a deed that left him shaking his head at his own insensitivity once again.  Rather than attempting an apology, and the possibility of embarrassing her further still, he decided to act as if he had forgotten her illiteracy, with a note to himself to be more aware in the future. After several moments of watching her stare up at the building with a childish gleam in her eye and a wide smile on her face, he finally asked, “Are you ready to go inside then?”“Oh, yes,” Serendipity nodded, tearing her eyes away from the structure at last and smiling into those familiar green ones.  As Corey led her inside, they were instantly greeted by dozens of working elves, each of whom called out, “Merry Christmas!” which Serendipity would have found rather odd considering Christmas was over months ago were she nod standing in Santa’s Workshop at the North Pole. Instead, she answered with a jolly, “Merry Christmas!” in return. She noticed, and found it rather odd, that though Corey always acknowledged the speaker, he only chose to say, “Hello,” or “Good evening,” in response, never “Merry Christmas.” Once they had crossed through what Serendipity could only describe as several work rooms, all with obvious purposes, such as stuffed bear assembly, wooden block carving, or her favorite, doll dressing, they came to a tall red door encased in a gold frame with two circular windows so low to the ground Serendipity would have had to stoop to look through.  “Are these peepholes for the elves?” she asked as Corey opened the door without checking to see if anyone else was coming out.“Yes,” he replied. “Safety first.”Serendipity raised both eyebrows and followed him through, wondering how he knew no one was coming, and found herself standing in a long, dark hallway. Though the gray stone that made up the floor and the walls, even the ceiling, gleamed in the dim light that reached through the windows in the door, the ambiance seemed to have changed.  “Where are we?” she asked quietly.“This is a shortcut to our destination, though this hall is used primarily for the elves to transport finished product to the storage rooms, which are off of this hallway,” he explained, gesturing towards a hall that circled off to their left.  “There are other ways to reach the main offices, but this is the most direct path.”“I see.  And are we in a hurry?” Serendipity asked, stepping more quickly to keep up with him.Corey slowed his pace a bit. “Forgive me. I am almost always in a hurry.”Serendipity bowed her head in acceptance and said quietly, “I should think if anyone were to be in a hurry, it should be me. I am, after all, the one who came here solely to collect my friend and then head home.”“Indeed,” Corey agreed, saying nothing more.  They walked on in silence for a few more moments before the hallway curved and finished at another set of doors, this one exactly the same as the last save there were no peepholes this time.  Corey pushed the door on the right open and held it for Serendipity to pass through, which led her to the bottom of a very tall, very red staircase with a sparkling golden banister rail.“Oh, my,” Serendipity muttered under her breath. Corey offered her his arm again, which she accepted, and placing her right hand on the railing, she began her ascent, wondering if her idle lungs would be up to such a challenge.About halfway up, Corey paused and asked, “Do you need to stop for a rest?”“No, I’m fine,” Serendipity insisted, though she noticed she was beginning to puff a bit.  “How in the world does St. Nicholas climb this staircase so many times a day?” she asked, wondering if he was not as jolly as Mr. Clement C. Moore had made him out to be.Corey laughed. “If you have magic, as St. Nicholas does, there’s no need to climb the stairs.”“Oh, right,” Serendipity nodded.  “So do you generally just magic your way to the top?”“Yes,” Corey replied. “Or use the elevator, which is on the other side of the building.”“What’s that?” Serendipity asked, having never heard that term before. But before he could answer, she realized they had reached the top.  The view of the room they were entering into caused her to jog the last few steps, pulling up her long blue dress and red coat tails as she did so, so as not to trip. “Oh, my!” she gasped again.Though they were not quite inside of the room yet, rather some sort of narrow foyer that led to the expansive room, she could clearly see where they were headed, and she had never in her wildest dreams imagined a place so beautiful.  The floor seemed to be made of twinkling snowflakes, all knit together to make one glorious carpet.  The ceiling was dark blue with what appeared to be millions of twinkling stars of all colors, though mostly in yellows, silvers, and golds, lighting up the room a full two-stories below where they danced in suspense.  There were several glistening white pillars around the outer edges of the room, all of them decorated with the same twinkling lights she had seen outside in the Village.  In the center of the room was a large globe shaped object. As they approached, Serendipity realized it was, indeed, a globe, and if one were to peer inside, different continents, countries, even homes could be called to the surface so that Santa Claus could clearly see what was transpiring with each child and assign him or her to the correct list.  It sat atop a gold base, decorated with spiraling filigree, and while Serendipity longed to touch it, she dare not do so for fear of breaking it. On the other end of the room sat two large thrones, the arms, legs, and backs of which were decorated in spiraling red and white, like candy canes, with gold trim. They sat atop a small dais carpeted in red velvet.As Serendipity stared in awe, Corey beside her with his hands folded in front, a golden door to the left opened, and a rather large, jolly looking man with a long white beard and bald head, save the long white tuffs at the side, dressed in red pants, a flannel green and red shirt with red suspenders, and large black boots, spectacles balanced on the tip of his red nose stepped out, a joyous smile on his face. Jolly Old St. Nicholas!
Serendipity’s mouth fell open, and she threw her hands over her face, speechless.“Serendipity, my dear,” he greeted her as he approached, “it is so lovely to have you here at last.”Feeling the tears stinging the backs of her eyes, Serendipity stepped forward, her hands still covering her mouth. “Is it… you?” she asked. “Is it really you?”He laughed then, and it was everything she had ever expected it to be--jolly and joyous, full of good. He patted his stomach with both hands for a moment before reaching for her and pulling her in for a tight hug. “Of course it’s me, sweet child.  Merry Christmas!”Despite her previous opinion, Serendipity could not help but feel intoxicated with joy at the touch of this saintly legend.  She wrapped her arms around him the best she could, the same way she had squeezed her father oh so many years ago, and felt waves of happiness overcome her enveloped in his sturdy arms.After some time, St. Nicholas lightened his grip, and as she stood, he held her at arm’s length saying, “Let’s have a look at you. What a fine young lady you’ve become!”Serendipity’s hand nervously flew to her hair, and she was quite thankful that Maevis had insisted she tidy herself up before traveling as she couldn’t imagine standing in front of Santa Claus himself looking the part of a paint covered vagabond.  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “It’s so lovely to be here.”St. Nicholas said nothing, only chuckled in delight.  Then, turning to Corey he said, “Mr. Cane, if you would give us a few moments, I shall summon you when Serendipity and I are done chatting.”“Yes, of course,” Corey said, bowing his head in agreement. Though Santa Claus still held her hand in his, Serendipity let go for just a second, turning back to Corey, throwing her arms around him, and saying, “Thank you.”He said nothing, only winked at her, and then, in an instant, he was gone, leaving Serendipity standing back in astonishment. Before she could put words to her surprise, Santa was saying, “Shall we?” and offering her his hand, which she gladly took, and he led her through the golden door from which he had appeared moments ago.Inside was what could only be described as a cozy little cottage. There was a roaring fireplace, the mantel topped with large green garland adorned with pine cones and shiny Christmas bulbs in red and gold.  The sides of the fireplace were flanked with penguin sentinels carved into the rich oak.  Two over-stuffed chairs sat nearby, and a full Christmas tree, decorated with various ornaments of all shapes and sizes, mostly in red and gold, filled the back corner near a window covered with thick red drapes.  “Please have a seat, “Santa Claus said, offering her the seat across from him as he sat down in the larger of the chair.  Removing her coat and laying it on the back of the chair, she sat down in what she could only assume must be Mrs. Claus’s chair, as there were several scraps of fabric and a pin cushion on the end table nearby. The blazing fire was near enough that Serendipity could feel the heat, though despite the proximity, she didn’t feel overly warm.  Before either of them could speak, a sharply dressed elf woman, with long black braids and a red and green dress came out of a door in the back of the room.  She carried a silver tray with two steaming red mugs. “May I offer you some hot cocoa?” she asked, stopping next to Serendipity.“Oh, thank you,” Serendipity replied, taking the nearest mug off of the tray and raising it to her mouth carefully. She had not had hot cocoa since before her father had died, as her mother didn’t allow her any sweets of any kind, and she was delighted to see there were several marshmallows floating atop the thick liquid.  Taking a small sip, she closed her eyes in delight; never had she tasted such a rich, thick, chocolatey beverage. “Oh, my,” she whispered before taking another sip and setting the cup down on a knitted square she could only assume was designed for such purposes. Santa was drinking his cocoa as well, but he chuckled in delight at her expression. “Serendipity, my dear,” he said as he sat his mug on a table near his chair. “I am so very pleased, and honored, that you have decided to come to the North Pole.”“Oh, why thank you,” Serendipity replied, blushing. She couldn’t imagine why St. Nicholas would be honored to have her here. Before she could ask, or even begin to explain that she wasn’t really planning on staying, he continued, and she listened intently.“I know how… disappointed you were several years ago, the last time you asked me for a gift. Had your caretaker, Maevis, write me a letter. And well, as much as I wanted to give you what you had asked for, I simply could not.” Leaning forward in his chair, the first expression of sadness on his face Serendipity had ever noticed, he rubbed his forehead. “Many centuries ago, I was blessed with magical powers unlike any a human has ever been given before. I became a legendary figure. And with that great power came a great responsibility.  As you can imagine, there is a great deal of work that goes into making sure every well-behaved child in the world gets the present he or she asks for.”“I can imagine,” Serendipity replied, staring intently at the being before her.“I need help to do my job, to do it well, and that is where folks like you come in. It’s simple really. A team of elves scours the globe for talented individuals such as yourself, and they spend years determining if those toy makers are worthy of our calling, if he or she will be willing to come here and take on such enormous responsibility, if they believe enough in magic, in me, in Christmas. Of the thousands of artists we consider, only a few will ever be invited. You are very special, Serendipity. And we are so blessed to have you with us.”As she considered his every word, tears began to roll down her cheeks.  “I’m afraid you must have me confused with… someone else.”“Someone else?” St. Nicholas asked. “Serendipity Fizzlestitch, I know everything. I am, more so than any other being on the face of the Earth, the judge of good and evil. Until you stand before God Himself, no one will ever have as clear an indication as to whether or not your heart is clean and pure than I have right now, Serendipity.  And when I tell you, you are worthy of being here, worthy of magic, worthy of happiness, worthy of love, you must believe me.  Yes, you Serendipity Fizzlestitch, you have been chosen.  And I am so thankful to have you here.”“Don’t you know?” she asked, her icy blue eyes staring into his jolly face intently as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Don’t you know what I’ve done?”“Do you mean about the accident child?” Serendipity nodded and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, my precious one, I know about the accident.  Of course I know.  But it was just that--an accident. You were just as much a victim that day as anyone else.”“A victim?” she asked, staring up at him now. “How can you say that? They died--my mother, my sisters--they died because of me, because I switched the canister of rat poison with the flour. Because I thought an ‘r’ was an ‘f,’ because I was careless, and stupid, and illiterate….”St. Nicholas was there beside her now, his arm around her shoulders as he crouched next to her chair. “Serendipity, look at me. What happened that day was a tragedy, but you cannot continue to carry the weight of something that transpired when you were a child for the rest of your life. It will crush your soul--and your soul is worth saving. You are a beautiful person, Serendipity. If you could only see yourself as I see you, you would know. And the longer you stay here amongst us, amongst the magic, you shall see for yourself. I’m sure of it.”Serendipity looked into his shining blue eyes then and her tears began to abate.  While there were so many thoughts swirling around in her mind, the only thing she could think to say was, “Thank you.”St. Nicholas smiled at her before kissing her lightly on the forehead and returning to his seat, a jolly laugh shaking his belly as he did so.Though she wasn’t quite sure what there was to be so jolly about, she thought, perhaps, he was just happy that she was there, and that she was going to stay; only she wasn’t. And she didn’t know exactly how to break it to him. It seemed that Corey must have taken it upon himself to report otherwise. “St. Nicholas,” she said quietly as he sipped his hot cocoa, “I’m not… that is… I’m not sure… I mean to say, I don’t know yet whether or not I should like to stay.”He sat his mug down on the end table, a more serious expression on his face now.  “Is that so?” he asked, folding his hands atop his midsection.“It’s only… I haven’t been away from home… ever, and I shouldn’t know whether or not I am suitable for the job,” she continued, studying her own folded hands in her lap.“Oh, you are,” he said confidently, causing her to look up into his smiling face. “But I understand that making such a decision can be difficult. I invite you to take your time, look around, visit the other toy makers and their shops.  Then, you’ll see. You’ll understand that you will fit in quite well here. And if Maevis should like to visit, of course she may do so at anytime.  There are a number of helpers who are capable of traveling back and forth to England, but I should think Corey would be happy to help you in that regard.  You have changed him, Serendipity, already, in just a short amount of time.”“I have?” she asked in surprise. “How so?”“You have improved his disposition incredibly,” St. Nicholas explained. “I rather like the new Corey much better than the old, sour one.”Serendipity began to laugh. “I have to agree. But I’m not quite sure he’s changed altogether--not yet, anyhow.”St. Nicholas nodded. “Only time will tell, my dear. Only time will tell.”“There is just one more thing I did want to ask you about, sir, if you don’t mind,” Serendipity stated timidly, her eyes downcast once again.“You may ask me anything,” St. Nicholas assured her, leaning forward.Serendipity paused for a moment, not quite sure how to phrase her question. At last, she said, “You know everything, don’t you?”“I am capable of seeing everything,” St. Nicholas corrected her.Serendipity nodded in understanding, remembering the globe she had seen earlier.  With a deep breath, she asked, “Did… did he suffer?”Pulling absently on his whiskers, St. Nicholas replied, “Only briefly, child. He was morose, thinking of you, worrying about what might become of you without him there to protect you. He knew, even then, that things were not equal between your sisters and yourself when it came to your mother’s disposition.  But it was over quickly, sweet girl, I assure you.  Someday, if you should like to have a look, I would allow you to access my great globe and all of the records stored there so that you may do so. But I think that is better suited to a different time.”Nodding her head in agreement, Serendipity wiped away the few tears that slid down her cheeks. While she was relieved to know her father had not been in prolonged pain, the answer also snuffed out the one small spark of hope that, perhaps, her father had somehow survived the shipwreck and was toiling away somewhere in the world, trying to get back to her. Though it had been a brief hope, it had still been alive, until just now.  At last, after so many long years of wondering, she knew for sure; he was gone--but it had been quick and relatively painless. That, at least, was something.“I shall call for Mr. Cane now,” Santa Claus said, as he stood, ushering her towards the doorway. Serendipity scooped up her coat and followed, wondering how he would go about retrieving Corey. However, as the golden door came open, Serendipity saw his familiar face standing near the staircase, waiting for her and couldn’t help but smile. He was smiling at her as well, his real smile, not the fake one, and she heard St. Nicholas chuckle over her shoulder certain that he knew the difference as well.“Thank you ever so much,” Serendipity cried, turning to embrace the kindly spirit once more.“Thank you,” St. Nicholas replied. “It was delightful to see you again, my child.”Puzzled, Serendipity asked, “Again?” And with a wink and a nod, St. Nicholas pressed his finger to the side of his nose and disappeared.Serendipity stood looking at a fine mist, her mouth hanging open as Corey approached her, taking her coat and slipping it onto her thin arms with her hardly noticing as she continued to stare in amazement. “I should never get used to all this coming and going,” she muttered.“Yes, you shall,” Corey assured her. “Now, if you will take my arm, there is someone who cannot wait to see you.”
Serendipity smiled broadly, thinking of her little friend, and taking Corey’s arm, she let him lead her back down the stairs, through the workshop, on her way to see Pozzletot at last.

The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas Chapter 15

I've been posting the chapters of my newest novel as I finish. If you'd like to follow from the beginning, please click here. Also, keep in mind these have not been edited yet. In this chapter, we actually get to see the real Corey--and I think he's kinda likable. I'd love to hear your thoughts! Leave a comment and let me know if you like the story so far.
Chapter FifteenA Charming Carriage RideA knock at the door caught the words in Serendipity’s throat. Perhaps it was a good thing, as she wasn’t exactly sure how to reply to Maevis’s statement.  She didn’t know precisely how many times Corey had knocked, but she pulled herself to her feet, wiped the tears away from her eyes, and crossed to the door, all without saying a word.  She threw off the lock and pulled the door open, blinking against the sun, and saying nothing, she turned to get her coat--her mother’s coat--off of the hook by the door.  Maevis crossed over quickly and helped her put it on, neither of them addressing the man standing in the doorway.At last, as Serendipity turned to face her, Maevis straightened the fur collar around her neck, and said quietly, “Take care, my darling,” and kissed her gently on the cheek.Serendipity nodded her head and said quietly, “I will see you soon,” before looking around her cottage one last time and stepping out onto the porch.The expression of confusion on Corey’s face was telling, and it at least made Maevis remember her manners, if not her charge. “Mr. Cane,” she said, offering him her hand as Serendipity stepped past them off of the porceh, “I’m Maevis Thrinsplit, Serendipity’s caretaker.”“I see,” he stammered, looking from the older woman to the back of the younger one who was now standing a few feet away, her back to him, waiting as patiently as possible for him to come along. “And--that’s Serendipity?” he asked.Maevis chuckled, realizing for the first time that he had not seen her since the scrubbing and brushing. “Oh, yes,” she replied. “She looks a bit different once she’s cleaned up, eh?”Corey could feel his cheeks warming, sure they were turning red as well, something that rarely happened. “Uh, yes,” he replied. “Unrecognizable.”“Take very good care of her, won’t you, Mr. Cane?” Maevis requested, her eyes narrowing in warning.“Of course,” he assured her, patting Maevis on the arm.  “She will be in excellent hands.”Maevis said nothing, only squinted one eye slightly, a look that could only mean Mr. Cane had better keep his promise or suffer her wrath, one way or another.“Look there!” Serendipity shouted just then and bounded across the yard towards the little copse of trees. Beneath them, in the same vicinity where Maevis had found hoof marks was a sparkling silver sleigh complete with two reindeer fastened outfront, standing perfectly still as if they were statues.  “Aren’t they wonderful?” Serendipity asked as she approached them. She offered her hand, as if to show them she meant no harm, and it was only than that they began to move, both giving a simple nod, as if it was the only way they could signal that they should like to be petted.“These are two of our finest reindeer,” Corey explained following behind her at a much more leisurely pace.  Maevis closed the door to Serendipity’s cottage and crossed the yard as well.  “This is Dunder, and this is Blixen.” He gestured at each of them as he gave their names, and each one nodded in introduction.
“They’re stunning,” Serendipity exclaimed as she continued to pet them.  “Are they sisters?”“I’m not sure,” Corey admitted. “I thought they were male…” he glanced down as if he were checking something.“Oh, I don’t think so,” Serendipity replied, “Unless it’s some sort of magic. That is, they fly with full antlers in December, and everyone knows that male reindeer lose their antlers in November. And these reindeer have such enormous antlers. I would say they are just about to lose them in the spring, after they have their babies. Isn’t that right?” The reindeer seemed to agree with her, and Serendipity continued to pet them on their heads, noses, and ears, causing them to lose their statuesque qualities almost immediately and become quite playful.“How in the world do you know that?” Corey asked, wondering  how this fact had been left out of his bank of knowledge for all of these years when he had grown up in the North Pole.  “My father taught me,” Serendipity replied, glancing over her shoulder at Corey. “Of course, it’s possible that Christmas reindeer are different than regular reindeer….” The reindeer tossed their heads about as if to say she was correct in her presumption that all reindeer are the same. “But I’m quite certain these ladies are, in fact, ladies.” Serendipity smiled now, genuinely, perhaps for the first time in many years.And her smile was catching. Corey found himself smiling as well, noticing how she had one dimple on the left side of porcelain-like face and how her eyes were still the same shade of icy blue but they also had small flecks of silver-gray in them.  “You’re quite the animal expert, aren’t you, Ms. Fizzlestitch?” “Please, call me Serendipity,” she replied. “I shouldn’t think of myself as an expert, only someone who really appreciates animals.  That’s why I am looking forward to collecting my sweet Pozzletot as quickly as possible.”“Yes, of course,” Corey replied, remembering himself and the meaning behind his mission.  “Well then, if I may help you into the carriage, we shall be on our way.” He offered his hand to her so that he could help her inside.Before she took his outstretched hand, she turned back to Maevis who was standing a few feet behind them. “Goodbye,” she said quietly, throwing her arms around her friend’s neck.“Goodbye, my sweet,” Maevis whispered. “Give it a go, won’t you?”The familiar words caught Serendipity’s attention, and her eyes widened for just a second. She wasn’t sure if Maevis had chosen those words--her father’s words--on purpose or not, but they struck home with her. She nodded and managed to stutter out, “Please take care of my other mice friends while I am away.”“Yes, of course,” Maevis assured her. “I’ll look after them.”With that, Serendipity took Corey’s gloved hand and pulled herself into the carriage, something she hadn’t done for many years.  With a wave to Maevis, he took his place beside her, picked up the reins in one hand, and then turned to Serendipity and said, “You shall want to hold on tightly.”“To what?” she asked, her forehead puckering in fear.“To anything,” he replied. He gave the reins a quick snap, and the entire sleigh, team, and passengers disappeared into the sky. Maevis found herself standing in an empty yard staring at a copse of trees, tears streaming down her face as she began to realize Serendipity was gone and she had no idea of knowing when she might be back.Serendipity had only a moment to grab ahold of “anything” and so one hand had flown to the handle of the carriage next to her, the other to Corey’s arm.  The sleigh was a small one, possibly built for one large person or two small people, and since she was slight and he was rather regular sized, they fit snuggly.  Nevertheless, once she had her bearings and realized she was not about to topple out, she did not release either of her grips, though her breathing began to steady to a normal rate.“Are you quite all right?” he asked once they had reached cruising altitude.  They were traveling at a speed he could not quite explain to her, should she ask, but he was able to adjust their own interpretation of that speed so that she could now see a bit of her surroundings. It was nearly dusk now, and she was able to make out a few stars, the ocean beneath them, and the occasional island.“I’m fine,” she replied after a long pause. “That was some takeoff.”“Wasn’t it? These are two of our fastest in the stable,” he explained.“How long shall our journey take?” Serendipity asked. She began to realize that her hand was still grasping Corey’s arm, and she released her grip, sliding her hand from beneath his arm and returning it to her lap, though her grip on the railing to her left did not change.“Only twenty minutes or so at this speed,” he said.  “We will have to travel through the dome, which is a strange sensation, but not painful, and then we shall be in the Village.”“The dome?” Serendipity repeated. “And what, precisely, is the dome?”Corey had answered that  questions many times, but usually the person asking the question did not really want an answer; he or she just wanted assurance that they were not about to meet their demise. Serendipity, however, was different. His typical answer may not suffice for her.  He began to explain. “You see, there’s a sort of a magical force field all around the North Pole and the lands directly in the vicinity. This helps to protect St. Nicholas and his workers from intruders or the overly curious.  The dome helps regulate the temperature in the North Pole. It provides us with day and night similar to what you are used to, rather than months of day followed by months of night, and it provides stabilization to the landmass beneath us, which is mostly made up of large floating blocks of ice.”Serendipity listened carefully to his explanation, and at its conclusion, she nodded her head and said, “This dome seems very important.”“It is,” Corey assured her. “It is one of the most important aspects of the North Pole. Without it, we simply could not do what we do.”“Interesting,” Serendipity replied, continuing to ponder his statements.  She felt herself shivering a bit, despite the warm coat Maevis had provided for her, and she pulled it more tightly around her thin shoulders.  Corey must have noticed as he produced a blanket, from where, Serendipity was not quite sure, and he used one hand to help her spread it over her legs as he steered the sleigh with the other.  “Thank you,” she said quietly.  She couldn’t help but notice he was staring at her, which made her feel very uncomfortable.  “Is everything quite all right?” she asked, wondering if one of her hairpins had come undone or if she had somehow managed to get more paint on her face despite Maevis’s careful attempt to prevent such an atrocity from happening.Corey looked away quickly. “Everything is fine,” he assured her.  Glancing back at her, he caught her smoothing back her hair, and letting out a sigh, he said, “It’s just… you look so much different than you did the first time I came to visit you, that’s all.”“Oh, that,” Serendipity muttered, pulling the blanket back around her arm as she tucked it inside.  “Well, Maevis insisted that I have a bath and wash my hair before I step foot outside of my cottage. I suppose she was afraid I might frighten someone, what with my paint stained hands and messy hair.”Corey laughed along with her, remembering clearly what a frazzled state she had been in only a few days ago when he had first met her.  “Yes, you definitely look… cleaner…,” he admitted, choosing not to add that she also smelled much better, but then he added, “but you also look… happier.”Serendipity was surprised; she wasn’t sure what he meant. “Happier?” she repeated. “How do you mean?”Clearing his throat, Corey continued, unsure of whether or not the path he had chosen to take was the right one. “Well, I just mean that… seeing you with the deer earlier, seeing you in the sunshine. You seemed… happy--content. Before, you just seemed… angry.”Pondering his words, Serendipity was silent for several moments.  Finally she said, “Perhaps you just caught be at a bad time. I think I’m usually rather content at home, while I’m making my dolls.”Shrugging, Corey said, “Possibly.  I don’t have much experience to draw from, that’s for certain.  It’s just that… do you ever feel that sometimes you enjoy doing your job--but it doesn't’ make you happy? I mean really, truly happy?”The question was an interesting one, and Serendipity couldn’t help but reflect upon it.  “I suppose,” she finally admitted. “I mean, making dolls is my passion; it’s what I’ve dedicated my life to, and I will never be anything other than a doll maker.  I’m not sure if it will always make me truly happy, but it’s what I shall always do.”“Couldn’t there be more?” Corey asked--the words slipping out before he could stop them.“More? Whatever do you mean?” she asked, staring at him in fascination.“I mean, why can’t you be a doll maker and.” “A doll maker and what?” “Well, that’s the beauty of it,” he replied, relaxing a bit, realizing he did know where he was going with this after all.  “A doll maker and--anything. A doll maker and a friend. A doll maker and a neighbor.  A doll maker and a reindeer expert.” She chuckled, which pushed him to continue. “A doll maker and an explorer. Whatever adventure you’d like to take on--couldn’t you do that and be a doll maker?” Serendipity had never, not once in the last fifteen years since her father had passed, ever considered herself anything other than a doll maker--except for perhaps a doll maker in the making when she was very young.  As she watched stars whiz by around her, Corey’s words began to open a small window in her mind, the window of possibility. But she was frightened by what lie on the other side, frightened by the implications; in order to get there, she’d have to forgive herself for what she had done--and she could not even consider that possibility, not at this juncture anyway. Still, as she determined to avoid an answer and turn the focus back on him instead, the window was open, just a crack, but enough to let a small ray of light began to pour in.  “And what of you, Mr. Cornelius Cane? What is your and?” Corey smiled slyly, the right side of his face turning up more so than the left, and Serendipity realized he was quite charming. “I have several ands,” he assured her. “I am a recruiter, that is true. I am also a collector, as I go back and collect those I recruit.” She chuckled, wondering if he had already classified herself as a successful recruit. “I am a friend, a son, a brother.” That last one came out a bit sharper than Serendipity anticipated, and she wondered to herself if there was some sort of a dispute between Corey and his sibling--or siblings as the case may be. “I am… a lot of things. Perhaps too many things,” he finally admitted with a shrug. “And are you happy?” she asked, her hand returning to his coat sleeve for just a moment, just long enough for him to glance down at her pale thin fingers, before she pulled it away. He hesitated.  It was a difficult question.  “I am happy,” he said, but it sounded forced. Her eyebrow went up, and he continued. “I think one can be very successful at his or her place of employment and truly enjoy what he or she does, which leads to happiness. But I also think it’s possible to be so lost in one’s job that one loses perspective and begins to confuse happiness with accomplishment.” He glanced in her direction and could instantly tell that she already knew what he was not yet willing to admit to himself; he fit in the later category. Was he happy? Of course not. Was he doing what he wanted to do with his life? Well, he had never imagined himself doing anything else.  He changed the subject. “Let me tell you a bit about our facilities,” he began. “Why?” she asked that right eyebrow arched again. “I’ll only be there for a few moments, just long enough to collect Pozzletot.” “True,” Corey replied, swallowing hard. “But it is part of my job to do so, and doing my job makes me quite happy, and you do want me to be happy, don’t you, Serendipity?” There was that charming grin again, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “All right then,” she acquiesced, smiling in return. “I shall humor you.” “Very good,” he said, continuing to smile. “Each of the toymakers comes from afar to join us in the North Pole.  They all have their own lodging, as big or as small as he or she chooses. Those who bring a family with them naturally want more room.” “You may bring your family with you?” Serendipity asked, surprised. “Oh, yes, of course, if you choose to do so, and if your family would like to come.” She nodded, and he continued. “You will also have your own shop in the town square.” “They have--not I will have,” she corrected him. “Right, of course. Not you--as you are not staying.  Forgive me.” She chuckled, and he continued. “The artists have a team of elves that work exclusively with them. The artist designs the toys and can be as involved as he or she wants to be. So, you--or they, whichever you prefer--could choose to continue to make the toys alongside the elves, or leave it up to them.  You would have total freedom over how you choose to run your shop so long as quotas are met--and they always are.”She was still listening, her hand resting on her chin beneath the blanket.  “There are several shops in the Village, as there are in other villages, and anything you might need or want can be procured.  It’s quite lovely--decorated for Christmas year round as you can imagine. There’s also the stable, where I’m sure you would want to spend a great quantity of your free time, that is, if you were going to stay.”“Which I am not,” she reminded him.“Which you are not,” he repeated, his hand absently smoothing the peak of his hair.“It all sounds quite wonderful,” she admitted.  “I’m sure that most people who come here stay.”“Everyone who comes here stays,” he corrected her.“What’s that?” she asked, not sure she heard him correctly.“At least since I’ve been in charge of recruiting,” he clarified. “Not one person has ever chosen to leave.”“Oh,” she said, the surprise evident in her voice.  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Serendipity continued.“Why is that?” Corey asked, looking directly at her now.“Because I should hate to be the one to ruin your perfect record.”“Then don’t be,” he said smiling.For a moment, Serendipity lost herself in his eyes, and she began to wonder what it might be like to stay--to make her dolls in the North Pole, to work for St. Nicholas, to play with the reindeer and enjoy the sunshine, perhaps even to be friends with Corey, who seemed to be much more intriguing than she initially thought. And as she began to ponder the slight possibility of giving it a go, he asked another question.“Do you think your family would like to come?”And the window slammed shut.“I haven’t a family,” she replied, turning away from him.  Corey realized his mistake only a moment too late. Of course he knew she didn’t have a family, knew what had happened to them.  He was so used to asking the question, it slipped out before he could stop himself. She had turned away from him, but he could see she was wiping away tears. He had been so close, almost had her, and then this blunder. He had likely ruined his chances. He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the ice cold glass flask he had received from Ingrid. He had been hopeful he wouldn’t have to use it. Now, however, it seemed inevitable.  They were approaching the edge of the dome, and he knew he only had a few more moments to talk her into staying. Sure, there would be other chances once they landed, but the carriage ride was always where he was most successful at convincing recruits to stay. He needed to think of something to say--something intelligent--and do so quickly. Finally, he said the only phrase that seemed to make any sense at all.  Placing his hand gently on her shoulder, he said quietly, “Serendipity, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t thinking.  I apologize.”It took her several moments to respond.  She had been swiping away at tears, absently wondering how long it would take for them to freeze.  The feel of his hand on her shoulder brought her back out of the abyss.  She turned to face him, and whispered, “Thank you.”He smiled at her, but this smile was different. While still charming, it seemed sincere.  It was as if he truly felt her pain and understood what it must be like to have lived with her consequences everyday for these past eight years.  She took a deep breath and looked away, leaning back in her seat, and Corey removed his hand as she did so, taking the reins in both hands now.  They rode on, both lost in the solace of their own minds.A few minutes later, Serendipity realized the night sky was getting rapidly lighter.  The stars began to fade, and looking below, she could see nothing but fields of ice and snow.“We’re almost to the dome,” Corey explained.  “When we go through, you’ll notice a sort of an odd sensation, like you’re sliding through a thin layer of jam.”That didn’t sound particularly pleasant to Serendipity, but she supposed she could handle it in order to get Pozzletot back.  “All right. Is there anything in particular I need to do?” she asked.“No,” he replied, “Only make sure you keep your whole self inside of the carriage.  The magic knows what belongs and what doesn’t. It recognizes the carriage but not you. So, stay inside of the carriage.”Serendipity nodded and promptly removed her hand from the railing, just in case her fingers would somehow be severed from her body. Corey laughed and wrapped his arm around her as they flew into the outer edge of the dome.  Serendipity closed her eyes tightly as the strange sensation of being covered with a thin layer of slime came over her body. And just as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone, and they had entered back into nighttime.Corey pulled his arm from around her, and she looked him in the eyes, waiting for his assurance that they were safe. He nodded, and she pulled herself to the side of the sleigh, looking intently over the edge as they flew over the outer mountain range. She saw what appeared to be a sparkling palace high atop a mountainous peak. There were waterfalls, icebergs floating down winding rivers, and as they drew closer to the ground, she could see groups of polar bears and penguins playing together in the snow. She gasped in delight and giggled with glee as she watched two baby polar bears play catch with a snowball. “Is this real?” she asked in amazement.“Yes, quite real,” Corey assured her, “with a touch of magic.”“How wonderful!” Serendipity exclaimed. Then, before her eyes rose a towering structure made solidly of wood. It appeared to be a giant snow lodge of some sort with animals carved into the logs--polar bears, penguins, and of course, reindeer.  Through the windows, she could see hundred of elves in brightly colored costumes of red and green working.  The other buildings were smaller but of similar design. Corey circled around so she could see each of them, all adorned with thousand of twinkling lights.  “How do they work?” she asked, pointing to the dazzling display.“Magic,” he replied, “and electricity.”“Elect--what?” she asked having never heard of such a thing.He laughed. “You’ll see. Now come on; it’s time to land.”The reindeer instinctively slowed down as the runway came into view.  The stop was not at all jarring and before she knew it, Serendipity was back on solid ground, or at least what seemed to be solid ground. For all she knew, she was perched atop a floating iceberg. There were two jolly looking, stocky men, one with a long gray beard and the other with a shorter brown one, there to greet them, and Serendipity couldn’t help but giggle with glee as they made their way to the sleigh. One of them waved hello and went directly to the reindeer. The other, the gray bearded gentleman,  stopped next to Corey as if he were awaiting direction.Corey stepped lithely out of the carriage and presented his hand for Serendipity, who was now jumping up and down with excitement. She grabbed a hold of his hand and swung herself out of the carriage, landing in the snow in front of him.  “Hello there!” she called to the elf who was standing nearby.“Ms. Serendipity,” he said, bowing, “it’s quite wonderful to make your acquaintance. We have heard much about you--though not all of it is true,” he added under his breath.If she understood this last part, she did not let on. “I’m delighted to be here,” she squealed, momentarily forgetting her abhoration at the thought only hours ago. Corey did catch the last part of the elf’s comment, however, and he was not amused. “Castleberry,” he said sharply, “please help Hillstent take care of the reindeer. The sleigh is in perfect order and is in no need of repairs at this time.”Serendipity looked at Corey in wonder. Why had he, the second they landed, become that gruff matter-of-fact person she didn’t quite like once again? “Is everything all right?” she asked, looking at him suspiciously.“Fine,” he replied, forcing a smile. “Now come along. We have one stop to make before we can collect Pozzletot and have you on your way.”“A stop?” Serendipity repeated. “But I thought…”“It shall only take a moment,” Corey assured her, offering his arm.Serendipity did not take it, the questioning expression still on her face. Instead, she turned back to Castleberry and said, “It was wonderful to meet you. Thank you ever so much for your help.”He smiled in return, peering at her beneath his thick glasses, and she offered a wave to Hillstent as he unhooked the reindeer and led them towards the barn, returning the gesture as he did so.She followed Corey through the snow, which covered most of her boots with each step. His pace was quicker than she was used to, having only walked to and fro in her own living room most of the last several years, and she struggled to keep up. As they passed the barn, however, she stopped altogether, and it took him several seconds to realize he had lost her. With an audible sigh, he turned back around to see she was captivated by the dozens of large brown eyes that watched her from various pens.  “Can I go in?” she asked that look of wonder causing her eyes to sparkle.“All right then,” Corey finally acquiesced.  She bounded off through the open barn door, and he begrudgingly followed, not sure why he was in such a hurry anyway; the longer she stayed on her own, the more likely she was to stay permanently without any interference on is part. Still, he was in a rush to get this over with. If he was going to have to force her to stay, he’d rather get it done with.Serendipity stopped at each stall to pet the inhabitants on the head, feed them carrots offered to her by an elf she learned was called Snowshoes, and to scratch behind every ear.  She went down one side and was just about to make her way up the other when she covered her mouth with both hands and gasped in excitement. “Look at him!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t he precious?”“This is our newest addition,” Snowshoes explained. “He was born last spring.”“Not even a year old yet!” Serendipity squealed as she stepped forward to pet the youngster on the head. “How sweet!” He began to lick her hands, and she leaned down and let him lick her face. Corey stood behind her, off to the side, a look of disgust on his face, his arms crossed. “What’s your name, sweet boy?” she asked the deer.“He hasn’t got one yet,” Snowshoes explained.  “We’ve tried different ones out on him, but nothing seems just right, you know?”“Yes, I do,” Serendipity replied, nodding her head. “I had the same issue with Pozzletot. Now, you might think that is a strange name, but I tried all sorts of regular names with him before I finally settled on that one. He hated being called Harold or Frederick. But when I began to call him Pozzletot, well, that’s when I knew we would be best of friends.”Snowshoes nodded, stroking his long gray beard as he did so. “That’s kinda like me,” he explained. “My ma didn’t know what to call me either until she realized I had size twelve feet at two months old.”Serendipity glanced down. While he did have rather large feet, she was certain he was joking; surely he was joking.  “Everyone needs a name that fits,” she said still staring lovingly at the eyes of the baby reindeer which continued to kiss her.“Guess your ma named you right,” Snowshoes offered, causing her to pause and look at him questioningly. “I mean, it sure is good fortune that you’re here with us now.”For a brief moment, the weight of his words caused her to stop petting the creature, until he moved his head under her hand and made her realize she needed to continue.  As she did so, she said absently, “Actually, my father named me Serendipity.”“Smart man,” Snowshoes replied.“Yes, I suppose so,” she said, not sure she agreed. And then, turning to the baby, she said, “Oh, I could stay here and pet you all night, darling, but I must go now.” He licked her one more time, causing her to temporarily forget the wayward comment. “Such a sweet boy.” She patted him on the nose one more time and then stepped away. Turning to speak to Snowshoes, to tell him goodbye, she noticed something odd hanging on a hook behind his head. “Whatever is that?” she asked.He glanced up, not sure what she was referring to, and then realizing what she meant, he said, “Oh this?  Well, this little guys is quick as lightening, and it turns out he’s real good at finding things that get lost--like a stray carrot, or a jingle bell that comes off of the reins, or…“A giant elf slipper,” Castleberry offered as he walked by with more food for Dunder and Blixen.“All right, wise guy,” Snowshoes offered. “Anyways, sometimes things get lost in the coal mine, or out in the snowdrifts, so we was trying to come up with a way to attach a light to this guy’s head, so he could see better in them dark places, help us find missing stuff.”“Oh,” Serendipity nodded. “And why is it red?”“The light’s red because it don’t have the same kinda glare as a regular white light.”“I see.  May I?” she asked, gesturing to take it off of the wall.“Sure,” he said, helping her remove the contraption.  It was a simple red light, though how it was powered she wasn’t sure--perhaps by that electricity thing Corey spoke of earlier--and it had two straps. Snowshoe showed her how it fit around the top of the baby reindeer’s head. He stood perfectly still as they put it on him. “Only problem is,” he began as the light slipped down off of the reindeer’s head and over his eyes, “we can’t figure out a way to get it to stay in place without it being too tight.”Serendipity pondered the design for a second. She could see what he was saying. If the strap that went around his head was any tighter, it would hurt him. The one that went under his chin seemed just about right, but that didn’t prevent it from slipping down over his eyes. Then, she had an idea. “What if you… hooked it around here, like so, over his ears, and then rested it on his nose?” she asked, demonstrating the best she could as she spoke.“You mean, light up his nose instead of his forehead?” Snowshoes asked.“Yes, that way, if it slipped at all, it wouldn’t slide over his eyes,” Serendipity continued.“Hey now, that ain’t a bad idea,” Snowshoes replied, studying the design. “That ain’t a bad idea at all!” Castleberry and Hillstent, who had been listening nearby agreed. “Boy, you’re somethin’ else, Ms. Fizzlestitch.”“Please, call me Serendipity,” she smiled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should be off. I’m afraid I’ve made Mr. Cane wait long enough.”“Thanks a lot, Ms…. Serendipity,” Snowshoes called after her. Serendipity turned and waved over her shoulder and then turned her attention to Corey, who seemed to be peering at her rather closely. “What is it?” she asked, holding back a grin.“I’m just making sure you don’t have any reindeer slobber on your face,” he replied, leading her back out into the softly falling snow.Serendipity glanced up in amazement; it had been years since she had walked in a snowfall.  Still snickering at Corey’s remark, she tipped her head back and let the snowflakes land on her tongue, laughing with joy each time she caught one.  Finally, seeing him shake his head at her out of her corner of her eye, she asked, “What? Haven’t you ever caught snowflakes before?”“Perhaps. A long time ago. When I was a child,” he admitted shrugging.“Well, why not now?” she asked. “Oh, Corey, can’t you see the magic all around you? or are you so close to it that it’s blinded you?”The twinkle in her eye caught his attention for a moment, and for just that instance, he almost considered taking her up on her offer. But then, seeing her rub her hands together, another thought crossed his mind, one with less wild abandon.  “I have a different sort of magic,” he replied, “a more practical kind.” With the wave of his hands, he produced a warm pair of mittens in a shade of red that matched her coat almost exactly. “Oh, my,” she gasped. “How ever did you do that?”“Real magic,” he said nonchalantly. As she slipped the mittens on, her hands instantly becoming warm, she asked, “And do you think my sort of magic, the simple kind, to be childish then?”“Not at all,” he replied, shaking his head. “In fact, I think it suits you well.  And I’m happy to see you so joyful.”His choice of words was not lost on her. Smiling, she slipped her arm through his and said, “I’m overjoyed to see you so happy.”He genuinely smiled then, something that was rare despite the amount of times he plastered a grin on his face each day. “Come along, Ms. Fizzlestitch,” he said as he led her down the winding path amidst the twinkling lights, the draped greenery, and the bright red bows. “There’s someone you need to meet.”“Is he magic, too?” she asked, fairly certain who it was.“Oh, yes,” Corey assured her. “He makes my magic look like… child’s play.”As they walked along, arm in arm, Serendipity couldn’t help but think back to a long-haired blonde, frightened child who was desperately in need of some magic, and she wondered if that little girl could find it in her heart to forgive the one she had called upon so many years ago to save her--the one who had been nowhere to be found.

The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas Chapter 14

Read the chapters of my newest novel as I finish them--before the editor!
Please let me know your thoughts. Read the story from the beginning here.

A RevelationMaevis had been kind enough to write her response on her father’s stationary, find an envelope, seal it, and accompany her back to her cottage where she now alternated between standing next to the fireplace, pacing, and sitting agitatedly in the rocking chair, arms crossed as she let go the frequent “humph” or sigh.Once again, Maevis said calmly, “Serendipity, calm down.  He’ll be here soon. He said it could be a couple of hours, and it hasn’t even been one yet.”Serendipity, who was currently sitting in the rocking chair, rocking furiously as her little friends did their best to keep their tales out of harm’s way, replied, “I know that. But, really, what in the world could be taking so long?”“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Maevis stated. She was sitting in the only other chair, the one near Serendipity's paints, and each time the opportunity presented itself, she would inconspicuously place a lid on a wayward jar or gather up a scrap of fabric and toss it into the fire, doing her best to tidy the workspace without being noticed. “I’m sure he probably had similar questions while he waited for you to respond earlier, while you were bathing.”The mention of the word caused Serendipity to pull absently at her hair, which was now pinned up at the back of her head with only a few loose tendrils framing her face.  She crossed her arms again, a scowl on her face, and said nothing in response. She knew Maevis was likely right--it had taken her a very long time to reply--but she was growing more and more impatient as she waited. She needed to retrieve Pozzletot as quickly as possible so that she could return to her work.  Every moment she waited was one less she was spending on her dolls--and Maevis refused to let her paint, sew, or do anything until after she returned for fear she would ruin her outfit or become covered in paint again. Now, there was nothing left to do but wait. She locked her eyes on the fireplace, what had been an ordinary fixture in her home for so long, and began to let her mind drift off to where Pozzletot might be. What was he doing? What was it like to live in the North Pole?   Was he warm enough? Was he getting enough to eat? She heard the clank of glass on glass at her workstation, and without turning her head said, calmly, “Maevis, stop tidying up.”“Why, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” her caretaker replied. However, she turned her body to face the fire now, her hands folded in her lap, having given up now that she had been caught in the act.  After a few moments of excruciating silence, she finally asked, “What does Mr. Cane look like, Serendipity? Is he handsome?”Serendipity rolled her eyes, but then, before answering, she considered the question.  She had never really thought about it before.  It had never seemed worth her time to ponder the attractiveness of Mr. Cane, or any other man, especially since she hadn’t even seen any other man since she was a young girl.  She thought for a moment before she finally said, “No, I don’t think so. I mean, possibly…. I’m really not sure.”Maevis cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows knit together, before she asked, “How do you mean?”“Well,” Serendipity began to explain, “he has sort of a handsome face, I suppose. But his hair is rather odd. It’s sort of pointy. It stands up on top of his head, sort of like this.” She used her hands to attempt to demonstrate the odd shape of Mr. Cane’s hair to her friend, who seemed rather amused and began to laugh.  Then, she added, “His eyes are rather bright green and sparkly, which I suppose is attractive enough, but his smile…. It’s rather disingenuous.  I’m afraid there’s just something about him that I don’t trust.”Maevis stopped laughing and looked at her ward carefully. “Serendipity, do you think it’s safe to go with him?”Realizing that she could potentially lose the opportunity to retrieve her dear friend, she shifted her evaluation. “Oh, yes, I’m sure it’s quite safe. That’s not exactly what I meant,” she began to explain. “I haven’t any reason to be fearful of Mr. Cane--I don’t think he would cause me any harm. I just think he’s… a salesman… out for his own gain and no one else’s. That’s all.”“I see,” Maevis replied, returning her gaze to the fire. “And then, do you think that Pozzletot went willingly or….”“Oh, no, I’m quite certain he was likely kidnapped,” Serendipity replied hastily.  “I’m nearly sure of it. He’s never left the house before--not with you or on his own. Surely he wouldn’t just  hide away in the red velvet pocket of a peculiar man with oddly shaped hair. No, I am of the opinion that Mr. Cane decided to take Pozzletot with him, though I’m not quite certain why.”“To get you to come there, perhaps, to the North Pole?” Maevis offered.“Yes, likely,” Serendipity replied, hooking her finger in the corner of her mouth. “But if he thinks I shall take a look around and decide to stay, he is sadly mistaken. Nothing shall cause me to do that.”Maevis pursed her lips. “And what if you speak to St. Nicholas himself? Could he convince you?”  “Heavens no,” Serendipity replied. “St. Nicholas and I had a falling out years ago, when I asked him for something he did not bring….” Her voice trailed off then, and that forlorn look Maevis knew all too well came across her face like a veil that separated Serendipity from the rest of the world.  “Well,” Maevis sighed after a few moments. “I hope you shall look around and see what it all encompasses.  I think, perhaps, you might be happier….”“No.”“Serendipity, I only think that…”“No, Maevis.  We’ve been through this. I’m not taking the offer, and that is final.”“Fine,” Maevis said with a shrug. “Besides, why is it you’re trying so hard to get rid of me?” Serendipity asked, her hands folded in her lap and her icy blue stare penetrating through Maevis’s distraught expression.“I’m not!” Maevis implored, looking her in the eyes now. “Heavens, child, I have no idea what I’d do without you. But I’d find something, believe me. If it meant you were happy--happier--and well taken care of--that you weren’t out here on your own, slaving away at something you determined you must do when you were nothin’ but a child, I’d find some way to go on. You can count on that, my love.”Serendipity listened carefully but did not blink.  Finally, after several minutes of silence, she asked, “Would you want to come with me?”Maevis wrinkled her forehead in question. “To stay?”Serendipity nodded once sharply before adding, “Not that I’m even considering it.”Letting go of a deep sigh, Maevis replied, “I couldn’t child. Oh, I’d miss you something awful. And I’d want to visit, if that’s allowed. And I’d write you letters and hope that you could find a nice elf to write me back. But, no, I couldn’t go with you.”Cocking her head to one side, almost like a cat, Serendipity asked, “Why not?”Studying her interlaced fingers carefully, Maevis replied, “Well, I have things to do. I have… people who need me… friends… responsibilities.”Serendipity continued to stare at her without blinking.  Maevis shifted in her chair. Silence penetrated the room like a thick fog. Moments passed by slowly. At last, Serendipity said, “Who is he?”Maevis glanced up, meeting her eyes for only a moment before looking back down. “I don’t know what you mean…”“Do I know him? Have I met him before?”Smoothing her perfectly straight dress, Maevis replied slowly, “Yes, you know him.”“How long?”There was another pause for consideration before the response. “Nine, ten years, I suppose.”“Before… then?”“Yes, before,” Maevis confirmed, meeting pale blue eyes at last.  “Your mother didn’t like for us to have relationships--even friendships. I had to hide it from her--from everyone. Still am, I guess, even though there’s really no reason to.”“He’s not married, then?” Serendipity asked, more out of clarification than suspicion.“Goodness, no,” Maevis shot back, her hand straightening the back of her pinned up hair. “What kind of a hussy do you take me for?”“I didn’t think so,” Serendipity replied, “only trying to make sense of… your secret.”“It has been a secret,” Maevis agreed, “and one I wouldn’t have kept from you, if I didn’t think you’d suppose….”“Suppose what?” Serendipity asked, her eyes wide again.“Suppose it had anything to do with… what happened that day,” Maevis clarified.Serendipity’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.  Though she often pushed thoughts of that April day out of her mind, she reflected on it now. Who on Earth…. Then she realized who her friend must mean. “Deputy Shellingpepper?” she asked, her voice high with excitement and surprise.“Yes,” Maevis confirmed, glancing down before answering, “but that has nothing to do with…”“Is that why?” Serendipity asked, standing up so suddenly that the rocking chair shifted behind her and slid back several feet across the floor, sending dozens of little feet scampering for cover. “Is that why he didn’t arrest me?”“No!” Maevis exclaimed, crossing over and facing Serendipity. “No, that had nothing to do with it. I assure you.”“He couldn’t take me to jail for killing my family because of his love for you,” Serendipity continued, puzzle pieces flying together in her head now.“That’s not true,” Maevis implored, her hands resting on Serendipity’s shoulders. “It was not his decision to make, Serendipity.”“All this time, I’ve been trying to convince myself, trying in vain but trying none the less, that it wasn’t really my fault, that I wasn’t a murderess, but I was--I am--and it was only because of you that he didn’t cart me off straightaway and throw me in prison, never to see the light of day again!”“Serendipity!  Serendipity!” Maevis yelled, grabbing both sides of her face with her strong hands. “You did nothing wrong!  Sylvester didn’t take you to jail because you did nothing wrong!” Seeing she was getting nowhere, she finally stated,  “There was a hearing, Serendipity.”“What?” she asked, her wandering, tear-filled eyes refocusing. “What do you mean?”“There was a hearing. Before the judge. A few days after… after the incident.  I had to testify. So did Sylvester, and Dr. Tweedleton, and Ms. Crottlybloom.  We had to testify as to what happened, to the best of our knowledge, and as to whether or not you had acted with any malice. We had all concurred that it was an accident.  Then, Judge Craftingminer asked if we thought you were of sound mind--that you would be able to go on about your life under your own power, with our assistance. We all said yes. At the time, we all thought we would be able to take care of you.  You were such a little thing, so vulnerable, so frail.  Serendipity, Sylvester had nothing to do with the fact that no charges were brought against you. But he is part of the reason why you still have your freedom.”“What do you mean?” Serendipity asked, still processing all that her friend was saying.“He has to come out every few months and do a wellness check. He has to report back to the judge, to let them know you are of sound mind and body,” Maevis explained, finally releasing Serendipity’s face but still looking her in the eye.“But I haven’t seen him since that day.”“I know,” Maevis nodded, “because he doesn’t do it.  He lies. He says that he has seen you and you are perfectly sane.”Serendipity’s puzzled expression continued. “But why…?”“Because I knew,” Maevis went on as she turned away, her back to her young ward now. “I knew that if I actually let him see you, he would know almost immediately that you weren’t… yourself.  And I wouldn’t let him take you away from me.” She glanced back over her shoulder now. “I wouldn’t let him take you and lock you up in an asylum somewhere where you would wither away and never get better. I needed you here, at home, where I could help you.”Serendipity nodded.“Except for I’m not helping you,” she continued, sinking down in the chair. “What?”“You’re only getting worse…”“No, that’s not true,” Serendipity replied, crossing the few steps to the chair and dropping onto her knees before her caretaker. “I’m getting better…. I know I am.”“Oh, Serendipity, my love,” Maevis said, taking her face in her hands again, “I’d so like to believe that, darling.  My little angel.” She pulled Serendipity’s head to her shoulder, smoothing her hair as she did so. Then, as if lost in time, she asked quietly, “Do you remember when you used to climb into my bed late at night, and we’d look out the window and count the stars? Do you remember that?”Pulling back to meet her eyes, Serendipity nodded, the tears streaming down her face now.“Even though you’d been through so much, lost your father, with a mother who never understood you and two spoilt sisters, you were so full of life, so full of glee.  Each night, you’d find a different star and tell me a tale about how you would someday go there. You’d tell me the adventure you would have.”“And how Father would be there as well.”“Yes, you would say that.  That your father would be there as well. And I’d remind you that he’s in heaven with Jesus now, singing with the angels. You always wanted to see him just one more time. Oh, sweet girl,” Maevis exclaimed, wiping tears from her own cheek and from Serendipity’s, “this might be your chance at last, to travel to a star, to have an adventure, to start over.  Your Pa won’t be there, that much I know, but he’d be so proud of you for trying.”“But what of the dolls, of my promise?”“You’ll take them with you, darling. You’ll work on them up there, among the stars,” Maevis explained.Serendipity looked down at the floor, shaking her head. “But this is my home…. I don’t want to go…”“Darlin’,” Maevis said, pulling Serendipity’s chin up to look her in the eye, “whether you go or not, I’m gonna lose you.  I’d rather lose you to a noble cause than have you locked away somewhere where I can never reach you.”Serendipity shuddered. “You mean an asylum?”
“No, my love,” Maevis clarified, her brown eyes sharp with consternation. “I mean locked away in your mind.” [image error]

Chapter 13: The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas

If you're following along, you know I am posting this book chapter by chapter as I finish. You can start from the beginning by clicking here. This is all editor free at this point! Please let me know your thoughts on the story so far. Here's Chapter 13!
Chapter ThirteenA FavorThe Snow Queen’s fortress was high atop Mt. Menzelfrap, still within the protective dome put in place centuries ago when St. Nicholas first moved his operations to this secret location, but what could be several days walk through treacherous territory in inclement weather if one chose to travel by foot. Luckily, Corey had the ability to teleport himself magically and found himself standing outside her castle door only a few moments after ending his discussion with the man in charge.While he could have easily positioned himself within the fortress itself had he chosen to do so, he rarely made the decision to disturb others so abruptly, particularly in a situation where he was in need of some assistance, and so with the bitterly cold wind whipping around, blowing the snow into his face and wreaking havoc on his carefully knotted scarf, Corey knocked on the nine-foot high silver encased ice door and waited for someone to let him inside.In reality only a few moments had passed, and even though Corey was used to the cold, it seemed like an eternity before he finally heard the creaking of ice against ice as the door was pushed open just a sliver and an ethereal voice called out through the song of the wind, “What is the password?”Stammering a bit as his mouth began to lubricate, Corey finally muttered, “Borealis,” and the door swung open, revealing a long winding hallway that appeared to be made of glass, though Corey knew the surface was actually polished ice, and the welcoming gesture of the two-foot tall pixie who hovered just above the door handle, her skin blue, her wings glistening in the light pouring through the translucent door. “Thank you,” he said as he brushed the snow and tiny ice chips from his shoulders and hair.  The fairy said nothing, only began to make her way down the hall, Corey in tow, her long white dress billowing around her as she went, looking a bit like a ghost from his vantage point.  “I don’t believe Ingrid is expecting you, is she?” she asked in her heavenly voice.“No, she’s not,” he replied.  He knew that though he had never seen this particular pixie before, she certainly knew who he was or else she would have asked him to identify himself before she allowed him into the castle.  “However, we do have a bit of business to discuss.”They had reached the entrance to the throne room, and the fairy turned to face him for a moment, saying, “Wait here,” before she fluttered off so rapidly his eyes could hardly focus, and she became nothing but a blur. Once again, Corey found himself standing outside a large, impressive, polished silver door made mostly of ice.  Though it was still quite cold inside of the fortress, it was nothing like standing outside in the bitterly cold wind, and he was quite content to wait a few moments for Queen Ingrid to make her appearance.  He was certain it wouldn’t be too long. After all, they had been friends for many years, and she was always very prompt to answer whenever he came calling.At this juncture, however, he must have caught her at a bad time as it seemed to be taking forever, and Corey began to pace outside of the door. Occasionally, a pixie or sprite would flutter by, and he would get his hopes up that the anguish of waiting would soon be extinguished, but almost twenty minutes--an eternity--passed before he finally heard Ingrid’s familiar feminine, alto voice cry out, “Corey, do come in.”No one opened the door for him, so he pulled it open himself, astonished at how heavy a door made of ice and decorated with silver filigree could be. She was seated on her throne--also made of ice with silver snowflakes adorning the top, hand rests, and legs, dressed in a sparkling pink dress that reflected the lights gleaming off of the ice windows at the top of the two-story room.  She held her scepter in her right hand, the snowflake perched on top identifying her with little room for error, and her crown of snowflakes and ice cycles, which encircled her white hair and rested behind her pointed ears. She was lovely, as always, with cheeks kissed by the wind and eyes the color of sapphires. Her skin was flawless and smooth, like the surface of the floor he crossed as he approached, and he immediately remembered the first time he had laid eyes on her as a small boy and how enamored he had become with this goddess of snow.“Corey, to what pleasure do I owe this visit?” she asked, her melodic voice echoing off of the walls and bouncing around the chamber.Before he replied, he dropped to one knee before her throne and took her hand, the signet ring on her finger glistening as he kissed the snowflake made of and encircled by diamonds.  “Your Majesty,” he began, “you are radiant, as always.”  He pulled himself to his feet as one snow white eyebrow arched higher over her left eye, indicating she was suspicious, but then, it was Corey, and there was usually good reason to be somewhat apprehensive, especially when he arrived suddenly and unannounced.  “How can I help you?” she asked calmly as she drew her hand back to the arm rest. “I haven’t seen you in… months.”“Well, I wanted to give you some privacy. I wouldn’t know personally, but I can only assume that newlyweds do need a bit of time to themselves, don’t they?” he asked, burying his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and leaning back on his heels as he spoke.Ingrid nodded sharply but said nothing, the suspicion in her eyes clearly still present.“How is Jack anyway?” Corey asked, standing firmly on the floor again. “We are just about through his busy season, aren’t we?”Ingrid pursed her lips a bit, as if she were thinking, before she replied, “There’s always some place on Earth in need of frosting, but he is due back any day now for some well deserved rest. I do long for him to return. It does get a little lonely up here, as you can imagine.”“Yes, I know,” Corey nodded.  “I’m sure you be glad to have him back and  the two of you will enjoy some time together, relaxing, frolicking in the snow…”“Corey…”“Doing whatever frozen people like to do.”“Corey, why are you here?” she asked, no longer willing to make small talk with her unannounced visitor who clearly wanted something.Corey smiled at her, well aware that the purpose for his visit was known between both of them.  At long last he said, “I’m calling it in.”Ingrid cleared her throat.  “I thought as much. What do you need?”“Nothing too difficult,” Corey replied, turning on his heels and walking away a bit.  “It’s something quite simple, actually,” he continued, still not facing her, using the tip of his boot to chip away at the ice floor. “In fact, I’m not sure it’s even worth a whole favor.”“You get one favor,” Ingrid reminded him, shifting in her chair.He turned back to face her then, still poking at the whole he had created. “Really, a small favor in exchange for convincing the entire council to change a human into a legendary being just so that he could spend eternity with you?  Does that seem fair to you?”“Corey…”“Because it really doesn’t seem fair to me…”“Corey,” she repeated, more sternly this time. Standing, and placing her scepter in its stand, she crossed the few steps to where he was standing, waving her hand as she did so to repair the damage to her floor.  She stood in front of him now, her face only inches from his. “What do you want?”Clearing his voice and adjusting his tie, he looked away from her for a moment, caught her eyes, and then glanced away again.  “I need a spell, a location spell.”Ingrid’s eyebrows furrowed.  “What do you mean?”Once again, he could not meet her eyes. He stepped away, cleared his voice, and with a heavy sigh explained. “I need to make sure that once my new recruit arrives in the North Pole she won’t be able to leave again.”“Won’t want to or won’t be able to?” Ingrid clarified, crossing her arms in front of her body and grasping one hand in the other.“Won’t be able to,” Corey replied, turning to look at her. “It would be much more difficult to make it so that she didn’t want to, correct?”“Yes.”“I just want you to bind her to the North Pole… so that she can’t leave.”“And what if she wants to go, refuses to stay?”“She won’t be able to.”Ingrid sighed now, placing one hand on her hip and scratching her head with the other.  “I’m not sure I can do that, Corey,” she finally replied just above a whisper.He looked up at her now, his eyes almost as intense as her own. “Can’t or won’t?” he asked, narrowing his gaze.She looked away.  “Certainly, you of all people understand my willingness to manipulate, to do whatever it takes in order to achieve one’s goals. It just… it goes against everything your people are doing here, everything St. Nicholas stands for.”“Oh, please,” Corey huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. “Not you, too.”“Well, it’s true…” “Is it?” he asked, stepping towards her, his arms spread wide now in disgust. “Is that what we are really about? Making everyone in the world happy? Everyone? Or just the nice children? Or maybe it’s just the nice children who believe in Santa Claus? I forget sometimes. It all gets a little muddled together, you see, because, at the end of the day, from my perspective, what we are all really about, in my opinion, is getting the job done.  We can tell ourselves all day long how great it is that children are happy that they have presents, ones most of them probably don’t really deserve, or that parents can look lovingly at the smiles on their little cherubs faces as they sing Christmas carols and eat ham while Susie squeezes a new stuffed bear and Johnny spins a new top--it’s a crock, Ingrid. You know as well as I do, it’s a crock.  No one appreciates what we do anymore… no one.”Ingrid’s eyes narrowed, a mischievous challenge twinkling there, and her cheeks had paled. She stared for a moment before asking, “Then why do you do it?”Corey looked down at the floor at his own wavy reflection.  Even through the distortions of the ice, he could see that he looked tired, aged, morose, agitated.  After a thoughtful pause, he shrugged his shoulders and said simply, “It’s my job.”“How very sad for you,” Ingrid replied, as she looked somberly at the acrimonious expression on her friend’s handsome face.  With a loud guffaw and a smirk, Corey responded quickly with, “I didn’t come here for your pity, Ingrid. I came here because you owe me a favor.  Now, what do you say?  Will you do it?”She turned her back to him and crossed back over to her throne.  He did not follow but waited as she opened the lid to what appeared to be a small table next to where she had been sitting. As she began to pour the contents of various vials into a small flask, he took a step forward, standing just over her shoulder. She was saying something, though he could not make out the words, and as she placed a cork in the top of the tiny flask, she squeezed her eyes closed tightly, her final words causing a spark of blue light to encase the liquid inside the container for just a moment before a ripple of magic emitted from within, sending a wave of light echoing around in all directions. She turned back towards him sharply, looking him straight in the eyes. Holding the flask in both hands, she asked,  “Corey, are you sure want to do this?” “Yes,” he replied assuredly, his hand held out, open, ready to receive the magic potion he had been waiting for.“Very well, then,” she said, handing it over at long last. “But, if you choose to use it, please be aware that it is very strong, and there is very little I will be able to do to reverse its effects. The efforts I have put into making this potion are considerable, and I hope that you will keep that in mind the next time you ask me for a favor.”As he took it in his hand, he responded, “Don’t worry, Ingrid. I know what I’m doing.”“I fear that you don’t,” she cautioned. “Magic is very powerful and it almost always has ramifications, often ones we cannot foresee.”“Believe me, Ingrid, we are doing this woman a favor.  You’ll see. She’ll be happy to leave her old life behind. She just doesn’t know it yet.”Ingrid pursed her lips again, shaking her head slowly.  “My sweet Corey, what have you become?” she asked under her breath so quietly, he could barely make it out.But he did, and squinting his eyes at the woman who used to be more than a friend, he said simply, “I could ask the same of you, Ingrid,” before disappearing in a cloud of mist and glitter.
“Oh, poor ignorant fool,” Ingrid muttered despite the fact that he could no longer hear her. “If you had any idea what you were getting yourself into…. Now, you will owe me. And, regardless of whether or not you go through with your insidious plan, I’m afraid you shall be anything but happy when it’s time to pay the piper.”

The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas: Chapter 12

Here is Chapter 12 for your reading enjoyment. Please keep in mind an editor has not gone over this--at all--yet. In this chapter, Santa Claus makes his first appearance.
Chapter TwelveA ResponseMr. Waddlebug had found a comfy chair in the corner of the room near the fireplace and was dozing, the honking sound of his snoring what one might expect from an old man with a bulbous nose, as Corey sat idly at the desk, absently twirling the feather of a quill in his fingers, waiting on a response from Ms. Fizzlestitch and pondering his own existence. It wasn’t a pleasant experience.He tended to push away the ideas  that often popped into his head--why did he work so hard? What was he trying to prove? What did it matter if one new recruit didn’t show up? All of those questions often dwelling just below the surface until one finds himself in a quiet room, all alone save a snoring elf in the corner, and then it is difficult to push the contemplations aside.But Corey was very talented when it came to the ability to dodge the deeper questions, and he refused now to entertain any of the truly important thoughts that dare rise to the surface of his consciousness, choosing instead to choke the life out of them and push them back down beneath the shoal.  Instead, he began to consider his plan for retaining Ms. Fizzlestitch once she made her way north.  He was fairly certain that this scheme would be successful; after all, the Snow Queen was extremely powerful--and she owed him a favor, a huge favor.  While there was the slight moral question in the back of his mind (still floating around near the shallows of the abyss) as to whether or not what he was about to do was in good form, he was also very talented at subduing questions of this sort of turpitude.  Any ponderance of the ethics behind his calculations was pushed aside as he began to sequence the events into a specific order, one that would make the most sense and be the most beneficial to the only person who really mattered in all of this--himself.And then, there was a clattering at the mail shoot.  A nice, clean white envelope landed quietly on the desk. At first, he thought it must be from some child as the last correspondence Ms. Fizzlestitch had sent was such a mess, but this was most certainly from her--or her caretaker--as his name was written in nice, neat print in bold black letters on the back of the envelope. Something else was different; this time his name was spelled correctly.  He picked it up and turned it over in his hands before studying the seal, a nice red wax with the initials “RVF” in overly ornate calligraphy. “Rudolph Valentine Fizzlestitch,” he remembered aloud as he broke the  seal.  The noise of the envelope coming to life awoke his companion, and Mr. Waddlebug was soon standing at his side as Corey slid a nimble finger into the envelope and extracted a crisp sheet of stationery (with the same initials at the top) which had been folded in half before being tucked away inside the matching sleeve.“Is it from her?” Waddlebug asked impatiently, rubbing his sleepy eyes with a stumpy fist.Corey did not answer, only looked at him sharply, as if to say, “Of course it is, you buffoon,” before he unfolded the letter and began to read.Dear Mr. Cane,I am happy to accompany you to the North Pole for the sole purpose of retrieving my friend, the mouse, Pozzletot.  Upon doing so, I should like to return to my home as quickly as possible.  If you are in agreement with these conditions, please fetch me from my residents as quickly as possible.Yours truly,Ms. Serendipity FizzlestitchImmediately, Corey noticed that none of the words were misspelled, the handwriting was quite neat, and the signature stood out from the rest. Clearly, she had not written the letter herself. But she had signed it. And that was enough. She had consented to come with him to the North Pole. A mischievous laugh began to grow in the back of his throat, and though he tried his best to  fight it off--after all, now was no time for carrying on like a child--he couldn't help but let a chuckle or two escape.  He could hardly believe something so simple as confiscating a dormouse had been the key to bringing the most reluctant toymaker he had ever encountered on such a long--and permanent--journey.“Whatever is so amusing?” Mr. Waddlebug asked, his bushy eyebrows knit together in confusion.“She’s consented!” Corey exclaimed, unable to keep the foolish grin off of his face. “Can you believe it? My ridiculous plan has actually worked!”Mr. Waddlebug was obviously confused. “But… if you knew it was ridiculous, why did you do it?”Corey didn’t bother with an answer. Instead, he drew a quill out of the jar where they were positioned on the desk, pulled out a piece of paper, and dipping his utensil into the ink pot wrote quickly but neatly:Dear Ms. Fizzlestitch,I have received your correspondence and shall be by to retrieve you as quickly as my schedule allows. I shall see you within two hours time. Please dress warmly.Sincerely,Cornelius Cane As the ink he was using was infused with magic, there was no need to wait for it to dry, and Corey took the letter and folded it swiftly in half, preparing to slide it into an envelope as he heard the confused voice of his valet at his elbow ask, “Why ever will it take you so long? You could be there in a few minutes.” Corey paused momentarily, leaning sharply against the table and rolling his eyes, before continuing to stuff and address the envelope--using gold colored ink once again to write Ms. Fizzlestitch’s name--as he replied, “I don’t want her to think I am desperate.”  As he held the envelope over toward the mail shoot, he continued, “Besides, I have a stop to make first.  Go down to the stable and ready my sleigh.” “Yes, sir,” Mr. Waddlebug replied, a slight tone of exasperation in his voice. “Do you want to take the new one? I hear he’s quite fast.” Again, Corey’s face wrinkled in astonishment. “What? No, I’m in no hurry. Besides, that one is just a baby. He doesn’t even have a name yet.” “He’s old enough…” Mr. Waddlebug threw out in his own defense. “Just use Dunder and Blixem--like last time--and all of the times before that, please,” Corey replied sharply. “All right,” Mr. Waddlebug responded as he turned to walk away. “But you know what St. Nicholas said, that you should get your own team if you’re going to be flying back and forth so often….” “Just do it,” Corey cried in exasperation.  Once the letter, and the argumentative elf, were gone, he looked around the room to make sure he had everything he’d come with.  Pulling on his coat, gloves, and a thick scarf, he followed his caretaker out the door at such a distance as to avoid having to speak to him again, his eyes glued on the floor, mumbling, “Get my own reindeer…. This is my job…. St. Nicholas doesn’t care, and if he does then he needs to provide me with…” Just then he froze in his tracks at the appearance of familiar black boots in his line of sight.“Well, hello there, Corey,” a jolly voice cried out, causing Corey to look up and meet two sparkling blue eyes.  “How are you this fine day, my boy?”“Sir, it’s nice to see you,” Corey replied, offering his hand, unsure as to whether or not St. Nicholas had heard his mutterings.  “I’m doing well, thank you. And yourself?”“Couldn’t be better,” he chuckled as he released Corey’s hand, thin and small in comparison to his own.  “I’m very excited to hear that you were able to procure a replacement for the recently deceased Mrs. Meriblossom. She served me well for over two hundred years, God rest her sweet soul.”“Yes, sir, we were all very sad to see her go,” Corey replied, a distraught look plastered on his face, his voice ringing with lamentation. St. Nicholas shook his head slowly from side to side, his great white beard rippling as he did so.  After a moment, he regained his composure and asked, “When will Ms. Fizzlestitch be arriving?”“Shortly,” Corey assured the elf in charge. “I’m on my way to collect her in just a bit, right after I pay a quick visit to an old friend.”“Delightful,” St. Nicholas replied, chuckling in such a way that caused his belly to shake up and down as he did so. “I should like to meet her straightaway. Bring her by post haste, won’t you?”“Yes, of course,” Corey agreed, not quite sure how he would manage to do so. “I’m sure she’s looking forward to meeting you.”St. Nicholas nodded in reply, a twinkle in his eyes.  “Her story is such a melancholy one. I do hope that being up here amongst us, where she can truly make a difference, will bring her some… closure at last.”Corey gave some careful thought to the statement, something he had not really considered until now.  Serendipity did have such a troubled past.  Perhaps he actually was doing her a favor by bringing her here.  Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he replied with the first statement that came to mind. “Do you think, once she arrives, you will be able to help her learn to read?”St. Nicholas’s eyebrows raised in curiosity for a moment before he answered. “You know, Corey, sometimes our biggest weaknesses are tied to our largest strengths. I could potentially use my magic to change Serendipity, to make her able to read, but at what cost? I could alter the very fiber of her being--turn her into someone else. And that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. No, if Serendipity learns to read, it will be through some other means, not through magic, not mine anyway.”Corey was clearly confused.  He had no idea what St. Nicholas was referring to.  How could improving a person’s ignorance take away from who they were or where their talents lie? Still, he was not about to argue with Santa Claus, and so he nodded, giving the sage a winning smile. “Well,” he replied, “I’ll be on my way then. Have a lovely afternoon, sir.”“You, too,” St. Nicholas replied, patting Corey gently on the shoulder of his velvet red suit. “You, too.” As Corey turned to walk away, St. Nicholas called after him, “Oh, and Corey, remember what I said about forcing people to change. We have no idea what harm might befall those whose fortunes we intermingle with our own will.”Corey turned and nodded his understanding before turning and walking briskly toward the nearby exit. He gave little thought to Santa’s parting words as he hustled out the door on his way to see an old friend.“Was that Corey?” Mrs. Claus asked as she joined St. Nicholas in the hall just outside of the mail room. She was fresh from a meeting with the wrapping paper elves and she had been studying several tiny paper cuts on her fingers, catching only the sight of his red coattails as they disappeared out the door.“Yes, it was,” St. Nicholas replied, scratching his chin through his thick beard.“And?” she asked, a knowing lilt in her voice.“And, I am hopeful that he will do the right thing,” St. Nicholas replied.Mrs. Clause crossed her arms across her chest, atop her stout stomach. “Well, I hope so, too, but there’s really not a lot of likelihood for that at this point, is there? He’ll bring that poor girl all the way up here and then she’ll never be able to leave.”“Now, Anywyn, I’m sure whatever magic Corey has up his sleeve, I’ll find a way to overcome it, if need be.  But, perhaps, Ms. Fizzlestitch will decide she wants to stay. You never know…”“I do hope so,” Mrs. Claus replied. “I think she would be ever so happy here. However, I hate to see anyone dragged away from home against her will.”“I know, I know,” St. Nicholas  responded, placing his arm around her shoulders.  “He did raise a good question though.  Do you think you can teach her to read?”Mrs. Claus hesitated, looking up into her loving husband’s eyes. “I’m not sure, Nick,” she finally stated with a sigh. “As a schoolteacher, I taught hundreds of children how to read, some with pretty severe reading disabilities, but this condition that Serendipity has, well, I have never seen anything like it. All of those hours of practice… with her father and Maevis, and still she struggles so…. I’m not sure. But I will try.”“And that’s all we can do,” St. Nicholas replied, kissing his wife lovingly on the head.“And what of Corey?” she asked, pointing at the direction in which he had disappeared with her forehead.“That young man will have to realize that the sole purpose of our organization is to help others,” St. Nicholas answered, squeezing her shoulder as he followed her gaze.“And if he doesn’t?”
There was a considerable pause before her husband replied, “I’m not sure…. I’d hate to lose his services. He’s extremely good at what he does, but if the price is trickery and unhappy souls, I shall be forced to find our young friend a different position altogether.”

My Thoughts on The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas... So Far

As you may know, I am publishing the chapters of my newest work, The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas, as I complete them.  I have never done anything like this before, but I really felt compelled to get this story out there in the raw, to get some feedback, to see how the readers think the story is developing. And so far, I haven't really gotten a lot of feedback--which is fine, although I'd still like some--but  what I have gotten is something else, which is a clearer understanding of exactly how a story begins to write itself. Let me explain....
This book is my entry for National Novel Writing Month, which essentially means I need to write at least 50,000 words of this novel in November. Now, that may sound like a lot, and I guess it is, but I regularly write more words than that in a given three day weekend without distractions. So I am confident in my ability to finish the book in the next few days (before December 1st), but I will also be the first to admit that I sort of put off writing it because I wasn't sure what happened. Of course, I had an idea. I knew who my characters were. I knew their secrets, their strengths and weaknesses. I had a beginning, a middle, and an end--in theory. But anyone who has ever written a book knows that everything beyond the beginning can be quite flexible. And often times the book begins to take on a new direction the more you write. For example, I had no idea that Santa Claus would become an important part of this story--I thought he would be a great way to tie in the whimsical, fantasy, Christmas magic component the entire book centers around, but I didn't know he would be sooo important. Until he made himself important today as I was writing Chapter 12.  Often times, such changes cause the beginning of the story to need to be adapted as well, and I am now fairly certain the published beginning of this book will be slightly different than what you can find on my blog now, but I also believe it will be better.  I love when stories begin to intertwine, when there's more going on than meets the eye. I think Santa brings that element to this book in a unique way.
He knows when you're awake... and when you're writing!
There are already a lot of things going on, however, and I can't help but mention a few of them. For example, we learn pretty quickly that Serendipity can't read very well and that this inability has caused a tragedy in her life, one that she cannot overcome. It isn't until later in the story that we begin to understand why she can't read. And guess who decided he wanted to be the person to begin to shed some light on this problematic area of Serendipity's life? That's right--Santa Claus.
My reason for causing Serendipity to have this particular learning difference has everything to do with my job as a reading specialist, particularly this year when I have been given the opportunity to work with some very unique, extremely special kids whose differences are of the same nature as Serendipity's.  I hope that, through telling her story, we can begin to understand each other a little better and stop being so critical of others who may happen to think differently than we do.
And then there's Cornelius Cane, the hero--or is he the antagonist?--of our story.  Up until today, I didn't really like Corey--at all. I found him quite annoying and pretentious. Today, as I was digging deeper into the layers that make up this heir to the Candy Cane fortune, I realized he's not such a bad guy after all. Sure, he makes some really bad decisions that end up hurting some other people that I really love--like Serendipity--but at the end of the day, I think we all have a little bit of Corey in us. Haven't we all found ourselves a little too concerned with what is best for us, for our own reputation, for own opportunistic sense of self? Aren't there times when we are so close to the magic we forget it exists? I know I've found myself in those situations before.
With about 15,000 words left to go before I meet my goal, I am wondering if this story will be over by then, or if it will choose to be longer, even more intricate than I thought it would be. Who can say? For now, I will continue to head in the direction I am intending to go, and hopefully the story will continue to unfold before me as I do so. Who knows where we will end up, but when we get there, I hope the story accomplishes what I set out to achieve: entertaining the reader with a whimsical, folklores story about magic and Christmas while shedding a new light on a common learning difference.
If you're reading along, please let me know your thoughts! If you'd like to start with chapter one, you can find it here.

Chapter 11: The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas

Here is the long awaited chapter 11! I've been so busy with Thanksgiving, etc., I haven't had as much time to write as I had hoped. But The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas will be finished by this weekend, just in time to win NaNoWriMo!  Please keep in mind that this has not been edited. I'd love to hear your thoughts!
CleanSerendipity had every intention of returning to her cottage and sending another letter to Mr. Cane as quickly as possible. However, once Maevis and Ms. Crottlybloom decided to take on the project of scrubbing years of filth and grime from her--her skin, her hair, her fingernails, between her toes,, everywhere--her return had been quite delayed.  It had taken both of the older women with brushes, combs, and eventually scissors, to work her hair into what could potentially be called “suitable” again. Her flesh was red and sore, not only from the warm water (which had been switched out three times) but also from the intense scrubbing.  Once the torturous bath had been completed, she needed a few moments to collect herself before pulling her abused body out of the tub.  Even the promise that Maevis would help her dress in a gown she had laid aside (it had been Serendipity’s mother’s at one time) and a new pair of boots, did not result in a hasty exit from the cooling water.  No, Serendipity needed a moment alone to recover from the ferocious attack, so she sat in the somewhat muddied water and tried to gather the strength to disembark as the dull gray suds collected around her thin white calves and danced around her elbows.The longer she sat, legs crossed, hugging her knees to her chest, staring intently into the dancing embers of the fire in the hearth, however, the more inclined she was to reflect on the last time she had been within these walls.  She had never given much thought to this particular room, as it was only used occasionally, but it was joined by her parents’ chambers, and she had many fond memories of running in early in the morning and leaping atop her snoozing father, always to her mother’s chagrin.  Her very own room was just above this one, and that had been her place of solace for so many years following her father’s death.  It was the one place she could go to be alone--from time to time--without the constant nagging of her mother or the harsh words from her sisters.  And, of course, there was the kitchen, just down the hall, the location where she had inadvertently changed everything. How many times these last eight years had she asked herself why she hadn’t been more careful?  She knew it was necessary to study the two canisters ever so attentively.  She had asked her mother so many times not to keep the rat poison so close to the baking goods, had even moved it herself several times. It was almost as if her mother were tempting her fate, daring Serendipity to make the most costly error imaginable.  From time to time, another question appeared in her head: had she done it on purpose? No, of course not! Despite the difficulties of living with a mother who had no problem voicing her opinion when it came to Serendipity’s shortcomings and two sisters who berated and belittled her from the time they crawled from their beds in the morning until they finally went to sleep late at night, she had not done it on purpose. It had been a simple mistake. Two similarly colored canisters, both labeled with words she could not read, no one to help her…. She had made a careless mistake--but it was, in fact, a mistake, an accident.And yet as she sat there in the discolored water, her legs crossed in front of her, her thin arms hugging them close to her chest, her sharp chin resting on one knee, she still knew she would never be able to forgive herself.  No matter how many people explained to her that it wasn’t her fault, nothing could take away the images of her family writing around in pain on the floor, the contents of their stomachs emptying rapidly as they both cursed her and prayed to God for mercy.  “Serendipity! What have you done? Foolish child! You’ve killed us all…”“Are you about ready to get dressed?” Maevis had entered so quietly, Serendipity had not even heard her until she was standing right next to the tub, towel in hand, ready to help her out of the low-sitting contraption.Serendipity did not pull her eyes away from the fire, despite the surprise of unexpectedly hearing her friend’s voice.  Maevis waited patiently, accustomed to long thoughtful pauses in the conversations she had with the tiny young thing sitting uncomfortably in a pool of lukewarm water which was still anything but clean even after being changed out so many times.  At last, Serendipity said quietly, “Maevis, I’m not sure I can do this.”“Of course you can,” Maevis disagreed.  “The Serendipity I know can do anything she puts her mind to.”There was a small splash in the tub as Serendipity flung her hand out of the water in protest, turning her head at last to look into Maevis’s eyes. “Who, me? Don’t be ridiculous. When have I ever…“Lots of times,” Maevis interrupted, dropping down to sit next to the tub on the floor despite the small wet spots which had formed from drips and other wayward  droplets of water.  “When you were a little girl, it was all I could do to keep you from climbing up on the windowsill in your bedroom so you could see out across the tops of the trees, especially if you knew your father would be returning soon. You insisted on learning to play the harpsichord when your fingers weren’t long enough to reach the keys properly--even without sheet music…”“I was a silly little girl then…”“You were a little girl, often silly, but very intelligent--and creative. If I or your mum told you no, you’d find a way to do it anyway, whatever it was. And it’s the same today--with the dolls.  Whatever makes you think you can put together all of those dolls, ship ‘em out all over the world, dressed in fancy frocks with stylish hair is beyond me. But you’re doing it.  Because you’ve set your mind to it.”Serendipity shook her head, her damp, white ringlets bouncing around as she did so. “I don’t have a choice, Maevis. It must be done.”“You do have a choice, love,” Maevis corrected her, placing her calloused hand on her arm just above her boney elbow where it rested on the side of the tub.  “You have a choice everyday.  Do you keep trying to do the impossible or give up and sell the lot of the parts and maybe the house, too.”“It’s not that simple,” Serendipity replied, resting her head on her arm near Maevis’s hand. “I promised my father that I would finish what he had started…”“You made that promise after he was gone, darling,” Maevis reminded her. “I’m sure he heard you--sure he sees how hard you work--but you don’t know if that’s what he really wants for you.  I knew your father well, don’t forget that, and I can’t imagine he’d be happy to see the way you’ve worked yourself to nothing but skin and bones, staying up all night, never eating, all in the name of… atonement… for something you never meant to do.”Tears began to slowly wind their way down Serendipity’s cheek, mingling with the lingering drops of water from her bath. Quietly, she asked, “Do you think he knows, then? Knows… what I’ve done?”Maevis, whose eyes were always kind and loving, had an expression even more soft and motherly now than usual as she looked into the face of the child she had cared for ever so many years ago. “Yes, love, I’m sure he knows.” Serendipity sighed, and her bottom lip began to quiver. “And I’m quite certain he knows it was all an accident, that it was not your fault, that yu never meant to hurt anyone.”Serendipity buried her eyes on arm as Maevis began to stroke her hair. She was sobbing now, and Maevis realized she’d neither spoken of the events of that day nor cried about them since the day it had all happened, eight years ago. “There, there, child,” she said quietly.  Let it out.”“I would… trade places… with them…. I’d do anything…”“I know, love, I know,” Maevis assured her.“I thought it said flour.  The script was so ornate… I couldn’t tell…”“I know…”“If Father knew, he’d be so disappointed in me…”“No…”“He always called me his sweet girl…”“You were his little angel. He loved you more than anything.”“But he loved mother, and Charity, and Grace as well…”“Yes, of course.”“And I… I killed them…”“Not intentionally…”Then, Serendipity’s body began to shake as she was completely overwhelmed with grief.  “Oh, Maevis,” she managed to choke out, “why can’t I learn to read?”Maevis continued to stroke her hair, hushing her quietly before saying, “I don’t know, my love. I just don’t know.”“I’ve tried so hard. I just… can’t do it! If only I could…”“Look at me, Serendipity,” Maevis insisted then, gently tugging on her chin. At first, Serendipity continued to try and hide her face, but eventually her gaze met the kind eyes of her caretaker. “I know you’ve tried to learn to read, and something is preventing you from doing so. I’m not sure what it is…. You’re right--it’s the one thing that you just cannot do. But it is the only thing.  You have a friend out there now who needs you, and though he may be small and what some would consider insignificant, he is your friend. And you must help him.  You’ve managed well enough to read the letters Mr. Cane has sent to you, which is a good start, and now you must be off to find Pozzletot and make sure that he is safe and sound.”Serendipity nodded, but there was still fear in her eyes. Finally, after a few moments she said quietly, “What if I can’t do it?”“You can,” Maevis assured her.“Come with me,” Serendipity requested, her eyes wide with hope.“No,” Maevis replied sharply, shaking her head. “This is something you must do on your own.”“But… what if I fail? What if I let another loved one down?”“You won’t.”“But…”“Serendipity,” Maevis said, still staring into those pale blue eyes, “this is your chance to prove to yourself that you can make it in the outside world, that there is no need to shut yourself off from everyone and everything. Go, save Pozzletot, and when you return, if you choose to do so, maybe you will have a better understanding of the people around you, the life you are missing out on. And, if not, you can always go back to the way things were before.”
Serendipity closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath. After a few moments, she began to nod her head.  “Very well,” she said at last.  “Then, let’s get on with it.”

The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas Chapter 10: NaNoWriMo

This is my Christmas fantasy novel for NaNoWriMo! Follow along as I write it! Please keep in mind it has not been edited yet at all.  I'd love to hear your feedback!
Waiting“Well?” Mr. Waddlebug asked, impatiently tapping his foot as he stared at the mail shoot.  Corey stood beside him, quill pen still in hand, his expression much more subdued.  “What is taking so long?
“She’ll respond,” Corey assured him, finally sticking the pen back in the magic ink he had used to write the correspondence to Ms. Fizzlestitch.  The mailroom was really something else. This is where all of the letters to Santa--whether through regular post dispatch or the prefered, up the chimney, method came to be read, considered, and recommended for fulfillment or denial. It is also where Corey came to write his own letters whenever he needed to communicate with a potential recruit.  Their was a smorgasbord of inks to choose from in every color, as well as every thickness of writing apparatus imaginable.  The paper was thick, the envelopes regal, and Corey always felt important whenever he sent dispatch from this room--even when he was communicating with an odd-looking albinoish woman who may be his undoing.The moments continued to tick by and Corey took a seat near the magical mail shoot, its silver shimmering in the light of a thousand twinkling Christmas decorations.  He didn’t even notice the enchantment of the setting anymore. It all seemed commonplace after all of the years he had spent here. As he propped his feet up on the corner of the polished oak desk and laced his fingers behind his head, Mr. Waddlebug sighed in frustration, stompin his pointy shoe.  “Why are you in such a tizzy?” he asked, an air of nonchalance coating his voice. “What difference does it make to you whether or not Ms. Fizzlestitch decides to come and retrieve her furry friend?”Mr. Waddlebug crossed his arms over his substantial belly. “Well, it’s quite simple, really. First of all, I’d like to know precisely what it is you intend to do to persuade Ms. Fizzlestitch to stay here once she arrives. After all, she’s already stated that she does not wish to come.  I am, however, looking forward to meeting her and should hope that I have the opportunity to do so. It isn’t every day that one has the opportunity to interact with one who is so… unique…”“Is that so?” Corey interrupted, noting the oddity of the man he had lived with for the last few decades.“Furthermore,” Waddleug continued, as if his master had not even spoken, “I have grown quite fond of our little visitor--Mousy, as I have come to call him--and if Ms. Fizzlestitch declines to come and retrieve him, then I know he will be mine for all time.Corey picked up a clean quill from off of the table and began to twirl it absently in his lithe fingers. “It’s a mouse, Mr. Waddlebug,” he reminded his companion.  “Whatever would you want with a pet mouse?”
“Plenty,” the elf assured him.  “And this one is quite special. I swear he is trying to speak to me.”Laughing, Corey shook his head dismissively. “You sound almost as off-balance as the young lady we are waiting to hear from.”Mr. Waddlebug’s stare intensified as if he were attempting to burn Corey with only his eyes.  After a moment with no result, he gave up and asked instead, “And what of that? The obvious mental peculiarities of Ms. Fizzlestitch? I know she is of no danger, but won’t she be quite difficult to work with?”“Pish posh,” Corey stated dismissively. “She will be just fine. She may require some cleaning up, some visits from our friendlier elves and fairies, but she’ll come around.  Once she’s spent some time in the North Pole, she’ll likely forget altogether about her transgressions in her former life.”“Forget?” Mr. Waddlbeug echoed, a strong tone of shock in his voice. You can’t be serious?  You know as well as I do one does not simply forget the sort of crimes…”“She did not commit a crime, Waddlebug,” Corey interjected.  “It was an accident…”“Nevertheless,” the elf continued, plucking absently at his long gray beard, “one doesn’t simply forget that one’s mother and two older sisters perished through one’s own careless hands.”Corey sighed and sat the quill down on the writing desk.  “The North Pole has a way of making all things new again,” he reminded his old friend. “Once Serendipity arrives, I’m quite certain she will stay. And when she has been here for a while, she will become a different person. They always do.”“And if she does not wish to stay?” Mr. Waddlebug asked slowly and carefully, his look direct.“Then I shall be inclined to call on certain individuals, perhaps one that owes me a favor, to ensure that Ms. Fizzlestitch decides to stay,” Corey explained in a voice as innocent as he could muster.“Do you mean the Snow Queen?” Mr. Waddlebug asked, gasping.
Corey said nothing, simply returned his gaze to the fireplace.  Though he seemed unworried by Ms. Fizzlestitch’s lack of immediate attention, it did bother him that she was taking so long.  As to Mr. Waddlebug’s question, well, desperate times did call for whatever measure necessary to ensure a victory. And though Cornelius Cane wasn’t sure what losing felt like, as he had never done it before, he was fairly certain he wouldn’t like it. No, Ms. Fizzlestitch would need to be persuaded to stay at the North Pole, whatever the price for that relocation may be.

The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas: Chapter 9 (My NaNoWriMo Novel)

As I complete my novel for NaNoWriMo, I am posting the chapters here, on my blog. These are completely unedited. Please leave a comment to let me know what you think about Serendipity and Cornelius Cane! Here is Chapter 9.

The Scene of the CrimeBy the time she reached the front door, Serendipity was crying. Pozzletot was one of the few beings in the world she could count as a friend, and the thought of him all alone up in the North Pole, in hiding somewhere, afraid for his life, brought a feeling of overwhelming despair. As her feet pounded up the steps, caked in mud by now, she did not even pause to think about what she was doing, where she was going, or what had happened there; she simply needed help--help that only Maevis could provide.As she threw the heavy front door open, calling her friend’s name, rushing in as she did so, she nearly ran into Ms. Crotlybloom who had come to see what all the racket was. The older woman reached out a thin arm to steady her, but then gasped in horror at the sight.  “Serendipity?” she asked, her eyes wide behind her wire spectacles. “Is that you, child?”“Oh, Ms. Crotlybloom!” Serendipity exclaimed, bending over to catch her breath. “Where is Maevis? I need her help. Pozzletot has gone missing. I need her to help me find him.”Ms. Crotlybloom was quite old--in her sixties at least--and had steel gray hair to prove it. She wore it, always, in a tight bun at the back of her head, and even though there had been no mistress of the house for her to serve for going on eight years, she always dressed in a proper black and white uniform of the house servants.  She was short and thin but strong and sharp. Now, her piercing dark eyes studied Serendipity almost as distinctly as her thin hands steadied her.  “Pozzletot? Who on earth is Pozzletot? And what in the world is that putrid smell? Do you have any idea how horrid you appear, child?”Serendipity pulled her arm away, not wanting to hear any more criticism from this woman who had never cared for her either.  “Where is Maevis?” she asked again, stepping around the housekeeper as she did so.Ms. Crotlybloom caught her arm, squeezing sharply. “Maevis has gone to town, and you are tracking mud and filth all over my clean floors.”For the first time, Serendipity surveyed the room. It was completely empty--not a stitch of furniture in the foyer or the great room where she now stood. The curtains were clean, but the rods were sagging, the plaster molding having broken off in several places around the ceiling, and the mantel looked as if it were about to topple over. Despite Ms. Crotlybloom and Maevis’s best efforts in keeping the house clean, it was certainly in disrepair as neither woman was capable of doing the type of work keeping up with a dwelling this size would require.  However, despite the dilapidated appearance of the house, it was clearly important to Ms. Crotlybloom that it stay clean, and glancing down at the otherwise polished floor, Serendipity could see that she was, in fact, trailing mud in all over the place. Her feet were still caked in it, as was the hem of her dress.  She stepped back into the foyer towards the mat in front of the door, which caused Ms. Crotlybloom to let go of her arm, and she shook it a bit, hoping the blood would start flowing into the section that had been squeezed to numbness. “I’m sorry about the floor,” Serendipity said, a note of panic still in her voice. “But it’s very important that I speak to Maevis as soon as possible. She has to help me get Pozzletot back from the North Pole.”“The North Pole?” Ms. Crotlybloom repeated. “Child, have you completely lost your marbles at last?  It’s February.  Why would anyone concern themselves with the North Pole this time of year?”Serendipity had no honest answer for that; why would anyone concern themselves with the North Pole any time of year? Nevertheless, she knew in her heart that is where she would find her friend.  “I don’t have time for this,” she muttered.  “Maevis knows. She’ll understand.  She can read the letters…”“Letters?” Ms. Crotlybloom asked, realizing for the first time that Serendipity held something in her hand.  “Everyone knows you can’t read, Serendipity. If you could, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now, and my sweet lady of the house would still be with us.” The sharpness of the words cut right to Serendipity’s soul, the sting even more painful because of where she now stood, in the very same place where she had killed her mother and sisters. She said nothing, however, only hung her head, taking the tongue lashing she so deserved. “Give these letters to me, and let me read them for myself to see what sort of nonsense you are up to now.”Serendipity looked up sharply and pulled the letters to her chest. “No,” she said sternly. “You shan’t look at them. They are not for you.”“Pish posh,” Ms. Crotlybloom exclaimed, stepping towards her. “They are probably from some fool in town you’ve been fornicating with or a prankster of some sort.”At the accusation, Serendipity’s mouth dropped open. “How dare you?” she asked. “You take that back right now!”“I shall not,” Ms. Crotlybloom insisted, her nose in the air. “Now, give them to me this instance.”“No,” Serendipity resolved.  “I shall wait for Maevis.”“Maevis will not be back for hours,” the older woman explained. “Give me the letters right now!”Just then, Maevis entered through the door leading from the back part of the house, her shawl still up over her head as if she had come in a hurry from outside. “Serendipity?” she asked, rushing over to her ward. “What are you doing here?”Serendipity had never been so relieved to see her friend in her whole life. “Thank goodness!” she declared, fighting back the urge to throw her arms around her.  “It’s Pozzletot. I think he’s at the North Pole. Will you read these?”Over Ms. Crotlybloom’s declaration that this was all a bit of tomfoolery, Maevis took the letters from Serendipity, only glancing down at her muddy feet for a moment.  She looked from one letter to the other before reading them both aloud, one at a time:“Dear Ms. Fizzlestitch,I am afraid something unexpected happened when I left your residence earlier today. It seems one of your mouse friends snuck into my pocket. If you would like for me to return him, please drop me a line.Sincerely,Cornelius Cane”Maevis paused between letters, a curious expression on her face as she glanced up at Serendipity, who had gasped at the mention of Pozzletot stowing away.  She continued:“I am afraid that’s not possible. He is hiding in the wall. You shall have to come and retrieve him.”Again, Serendipity gasped.  “What’s not possible?” Maevis asked, looking for clarification.  “What did you ask him to do?”“To bring him back.”
“How did you ask that?”
“I wrote it on a slip of paper and dropped it into the fireplace,” Serendipity explained, her finger hooked in her mouth.“And that worked?” Maevis inquired. “The letter went up the chimney?”“Yes.”“And how long until his response arrived?’“A minute, two, perhaps.”“Who is this Cornelius Cane?” Ms. Crotlybloom asked, still obviously agitated. “He’s one of St. Nicholas’s associates,” Maevis explained folding the letters in half as she did so.“You can’t actually believe that,” Ms. Crotlybloom exclaimed, her hands on her hips.Maevis wrapped her arms around Serendipity’s shoulders, despite the hazards and filth. “I do,” she replied. “For many reasons none of which do I have the time explain to you. Now, Serendipity,” she said over the huffs of the offended housekeeper, “we need to get you cleaned up so that you can go to the North Pole to get your friend.”Serendipity pulled away. “What? No!” she exclaimed. “Have you gone mad? I can’t possibly…”“You can and you shall,” Maevis insisted. “It’s quite important that you retrieve your mouse before something awful happens to him. Can you imagine how afraid he must be, up there in that cold, unfamiliar place all by himself?”“Well, yes, of course, I can,” Serendipity admitted. “But I told you, I’m not leaving.”“You also told me you’d never step foot in Marwolaeth again either, and yet, here you are,” Maevis pointed out.  Once again, Serendipity began to protest, but taking her squarely by the shoulders, Maevis turned the young woman to face her. “Look, Serendipity, sometimes we must face challenges we cannot imagine in order to what is best for our friends.  Pozzletot is counting on you. You must do whatever it takes to find him.”Looking into Maevis’s eyes, Serendipity realized this was an opportunity to help someone she loved--an opportunity she could not afford to pass up. It didn’t matter what happened to her; she needed to do what was right--for once. “Fine,” she finally acquiesced. “I shall go retrieve my friend, but once he is safely within my grasp, I will come back to Dunsford and resume my doll making--on my own--without St. Nicholas, or Cornelius Cane, or anyone else.”“Very well,” Maevis agreed, smiling. In her mind she secretly hoped that Serendipity would reach the North Pole and decide to stay, As much as it would pain her to never see her charge again, she knew it would be best for all of them if she never returned to Marwolaeth Hall.  “Now, Ms. Crotlybloom, go fill the tub. If our Serendipity is going out into the world, she must do so as presentable as possible.”Both Serendipity and Ms. Crotlybloom began to protest. Maevis looked sharply at Ms. Crotlybloom, who was used to giving orders, not taking them, and she skittered off in a huff.“I haven’t time…” Serendipity insisted.“Serendipity,” Maevis began, her hands on her hips. “there are enough rumors about you in this world. We shan’t have you showing up at the North Pole looking the part of the mad young lady who is a danger to herself and others.  Let’s give the world a glimpse at the real Serendipity Fizzlestitch.” As Serendipity opened her mouth to protest again, she added, “Besides, you smell worse than two reindeers in a pissing contest.  We won’t have Santa Claus losing his lunch over it. Now, off with you, to the tub.”Her head hung low, Serendipity went off to the tub, keeping her eyes on the floor and away from any and all reminders of all of the moments--both good and bad--that had transpired within these walls so many years ago.  

NaNoWriMo The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas: Chapter Eight

If you've been following my blog, you know I'm posting the chapters of my National Novel Writing Month entry, The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas, as I go. This is completely unedited so please keep that in mind. It is unlike anything I have ever written before!  Please let me know your thoughts.  Here's Chapter Eight.
Correspondence When Maevis stopped by later that evening, she found Serendipity fast at work as usual. She was certainly not in a talkative mood either, not that she ever was, but on this particular night, she only made the occasional grunting noise to either agree or disagree with Maevis’s questions. This was particularly true when it came to her inquiries about whether or not there had been any follow up to the letter.  She had asked almost immediately whether or not one of St. Nicholas’s assistants had ever come to speak with her. Serendipity had made an awful noise in the back of her throat, one Maevis took as either a stern “no” or a complete refusal to discuss the matter, and so she had dropped the subject.  After a few more minor attempts at starting a conversation, she finally made an ethereal noise of her own, and crossing her arms sternly said, “Fine then. I guess I shall leave you in peace with your little friends.” Then, noticing that only a few of the mice were actually out and about--and none of them looked quite as familiar as they should, she added, “Where is Pozzletot? Have the two of you had a tiff?”Serendipity paused, paintbrush in the air hovering over the face she was working on.  Her head snapped around to look at Maevis. She glanced at the table, then at the floor, her eyebrows knitting together in curiosity.  She slowly began to shake her head. “He must be… angry at me… again. I haven’t seen him for hours, not since….” She stopped mid-sentence, catching herself before she could say something she would regret.But Maevis was too quick. “Not since what?” she asked, her hand on her hip, eyeing Serendipity carefully.Serendipity glanced at her, attempting to read her face. She could see her friend knew something was up. She decided to play nonchalant. “Nothing. Not since earlier, since I stopped for a bite to eat. That’s all.”Maevis was not convinced. She looked around the room carefully.  Was there anything out of place? Did anything look unusual? No, everything looked fairly normal.  Then, looking over towards the door, something caught her attention. She hurried over for a closer inspection. There on the roughly hune wooden floor was a large footprint, one that was much too large to be her own or Serendipity’s, and it looked as if it belonged to a man’s boot! “Serendipity! You’ve had a visitor!” she exclaimed, whirling around to look at her charge, her shawl spinning about like a cape.“I’ve no such thing,” Serendipity insisted, stabbing her paintbrush into the jar of water and dropping the doll head onto the table a littler more violently than she should have.“Yes, you have!” Maevis insisted, both hands on her hips now as she took the two steps back over towards the table. “There’s a footprint on the floor, and it’s much too large for you or I!” With these words, she pointed in the direction of the muddy footprint, which was almost indiscernible in the dimly lit room--but it was there; she was sure of it.“You’re imagining things,” Serendipity insisted, her nose in the air. “No man has been in my chambers--ever.”“Why do you lie, child?” Maevis asked, her hands flailing wildly in a gesture of frustration. “Was it an elf? One of Santa’s helpers?”“No,” Serendipity huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. “It was just some… man… in a red suit. That’s all. And he was only here for a few moments. He was from the village… I’m sure of it. He wasn’t from the North Pole. And he was just here to poke fun and ridicule me. I let him in for a moment--only a brief moment--because he insisted he needed a drink of water. And then I sent him out again post haste!” Maevis puckered her lips as she often did when she was in deep thought. After a moment, she asked, “You let a man in here?”“Yes.”“Some strange man in a red suit?”“Yes.”“But he did ask you to go to the North Pole with him?”Serendipity nodded.“And you told him no?”“Of course.”Maevis was thinking again.  She began to stroke her chin with her thumb and first finger, her other arm crossed over her waist.  “And when you refused, he simply left?”“Yes.”Maevis shook her head as if she simply did not believe everything she was hearing. But Serendipity did not see her. She had already turned back to her work, hoping that ignoring the questioner would make the questions stop, and she could return to her work in peace.“How did he get here?”“I don’t know.”“How did he get in?”“I told you. I let him in,” she said over her shoulder.“You just opened the door?”“Yes.”“Since when do you open the door to… anyone?”“Since he was banging on my door, and I knew he wasn’t going to just go away. However, I wish you would. Can’t you see how very busy I am?”After a deep sigh,  Maevis replied, “Fine. But what are you going to do if he comes back?”“He won’t be coming back, I assure you,” Serendipity replied, glancing briefly over her shoulder at her friend. “You may let yourself out.”Maevis opened her mouth to ask another question but then closed it abruptly, realizing that Serendipity was done with the conversation before it even began.  She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, picked up the basket she had brought with her off of the table, and turned to the door.  As she pulled it open, she said, “You should have told me.” There was no answer.  “Be careful,” she added as she stepped out, pulling the door to behind her.  As she made her way down off of the rickety front steps, she noticed the same footprints in the mud outside.  How had she missed them before? They distinctly led up to the door and then away. Through a light misty rain, she followed them around to the side of the cottage, over to a small copse of trees. There, she saw distinct hoof prints which seemed to suddenly appear in the mud a few feet from the trees. While there were a few steps leading out of the way of the low hanging branches, they disappeared again only a few yards away as if whatever animals had left them had both appeared and then exited with only a few footfalls.  She was quite astonished at the discovery but knew it would be pointless to go back in and speak to Serendipity about it now.  Perhaps she would mention it in the morning when she returned, if her ward seemed any more inclined to speak. In the meantime, she needed to hurry back to Marwolaeth as there was plenty of work to do and only two sets of hands with which to do it.Once she was sure Maevis had stepped away from the rickety front porch, Serendipity took her advice and crossed over to the door, dropping the lock in place. If Mr. Cane was to return, he would find a doll maker far less inclined to let him in than the one he had met previously.  Without another thought, she returned to the doll she was working on, wondering only briefly what she had done to offend her dear Pozzletot.Much later, perhaps late in the evening (or was it early the next morning?) there was another clatter at the fireplace.  Serendipity turned her weary head to look in the direction of the noise only to discover a second letter dancing in the flames. She couldn’t help but let a small curse word escaped her lips, knowing whatever words this correspondence contained it would not be welcome. Perhaps Mr. Cane would insist on another meeting.  Perhaps he was announcing he would soon return to Dunsford to see her again. Whatever it was, she chose not to address it just then and continued to work on the dress she was sewing.  She fully expected the appearance to draw forth her good friend from his hiding place, and while there had been several other mice squeaking about all day, even this newest commotion did not bring out Pozzletot, which Serendipity found rather odd; he was always so curious about such things.  The other mice seemed alarmed, and she wondered if they were not trying to tell her something. Since she was not fluent in any of their languages--only Pozzletot’s expressive form of communication--she ignored them as well, and turned her full attention to the gown. Reading was too difficult and it was the last thing she wanted to do on a night--or was it morning--such as this.Hours later, when the dress was completed and she could tell by the small sliver of light creeping through the curtains that it was daylight once again, she realized Maevis would likely be returning soon. If she didn’t dispose of the letter before her friend arrived, she would certainly read it and might find out that Mr. Cane had been a bit more persistent than she had initially let on, though once he left he had done so obligingly.   With a great sigh, Serendipity stepped over to the fireplace, and using the poker, she knocked the letter from the flames, bending to retrieve it off of the floor. Her name was written in his familiar handwriting on the outside of the envelope in the same gold ink, and shaking her head in annoyance, she used her spindly finger to rip the envelope open.My Dearest Ms. Fizzlestitch,Again, this part was easy.Ia mafraib somet hinq unexq ecbeb haqqenb when Ileft yourresbenc ear lier to bay. It see ms on off you r mose fri enbs snus kintoe my posket.  If you wolb lik from me to retoon him, ple ase droq me a lin.Sincerely,Cornelius CaneSerendipity was quite puzzled. Very little of the letter made any sense to her at all. She simply could not decipher what Mr. Cane was trying to tell her. It didn’t seem as if he were asking her to return to the North Pole with him again. She read the words again and again, trying different sounds for the vowels, a strategy both her father and Maevis had taught her, but nothing seemed to make any sense.  She crossed over to her table where the lamp sat, lit it, and took a seat in her chair, hoping the stronger light might help her a bit.  Just then, she heard a loud squeaking sound from atop the table, and she turned her attention that direction, hoping it was Pozzletot come to help her. Instead, she found another mouse, Gypsim, and she seemed to be trying her hardest to tell Serendipity something.Frustrated, she sat the letter down on the table and gave Gypsim her full attention.  “What is it, little friend?” she asked.Gypsim scampered over to the letter and began to point at it, as if her information had something to do with the letter.  Serendipity didn’t understand. “The letter?” she asked.Gypsim’s head waggled up and down furiously.  Serendipity continued. “You want me to know something about the letter?”Again, the mouse agreed.“Can you read the letter?” Serendipity asked, wondering if too many late nights had caused her to become delusional.However, Gypsim signaled that this was not the case. No, a mouse could not read human handwriting.  Serendipity was puzzled again. “All right. But it does have something to do with the letter?”This was  confirmed, and so Serendipity made another guess. “Does it have to do with Mr. Cane?”Gypsim jumped up and down and was soon joined on the table by Muffincrumb, Bitsy, and several other members of their mouse community. Serendipity hooked her finger through the corner of her mouth as she did while in deep thought.  “Where is Pozzletot?” she wondered aloud, sure that her friend would be able to help her understand.At the mention of his name, the mice began to squeak furiously, and Serendipity stared down at them, her head cocked to the side in confusion. “Pozzletot?” she asked, hearing them chirp loudly once again. “Does the letter have something to do with Pozzletot’s disappearance?”The mice were all jumping up and down now, gesturing at the letter, squeaking, and a few of them began to run about as if they simply could no longer contain themselves.Serendipity looked at the letter again. “I certainly don’t see his name anywhere,” she muttered. “But then, Mr. Cane wouldn’t know his name, now would he? Even if I mentioned it, he probably wouldn’t remember…. So, what must it say?” She glanced through the words again, and then, finally, on the fourth or fifth try, she realized that word--the one that started with an “m” a few lines in--that word wasn’t “mose” or “moose” or “mo-use” as she had tried on the other occasions--it was “mouse!” Her eyes wide, Serendipity exclaimed, “Did Pozzletot go with that man?”The mice were in a fury now, running about, clapping their wee mouse hands, nodding their tiny mouse heads. Gypsim even appeared to be smiling at her own success at being able to communicate her message to the lady of the cottage at last.Serendipity couldn’t believe it. “My Pozzletot? Why would he…, but it doesn’t make any sense. Was he so angry at me that he decided to leave with that… that… strange man?”The mice were of little use now as none of them truly knew the reason for Pozzletot’s disappearance, and they were so overjoyed with their ability to get their message across, they had moved on to celebration.  On the other hand, Serendipity was not ready to celebrate at all. “Well, I guess he’ll just have to stay at the North Pole!” she exclaimed leaning back sharply in her chair.  With that, the mice stopped in their tracks, staring at her, their little mouths hanging open. “What?” she asked. “If he chose to go to the North Pole, then that shall be his new home.”The mice were clearly protesting now, and Serendipity became a bit suspicious. “Do you think he did not wish to go along with this Mr. Cane then?”Tiny mouse shoulders seemed to shrug as they glanced at each other, not sure what to think with their tiny mouse brains.“Was he kidnapped? Taken against his will?” Serendipity’s voice grew higher with disgust and trepidation.Once again, the mice could not answer, only skitter about, looking at each other and back at Serendipity.“Well, then, that’s another story. I must get him back! I shall write a letter to Mr. Cane demanding that he return him at once!”The mice cheered again, jumping up and down and raising their fists in agreement.Serendipity looked around her small living space but soon realized there was little chance that she would have a piece of paper.  Wasting no time, she simply tore the end off of the sheet she had in her hand, Mr. Cane’s second letter, and plucking a paintbrush from the jar, using sharp black letters and hoping he would be able to read her message, she wrote simply:Breeng him bak.Sincerely,Serendipity FizzlestitchShe recalled Mr. Cane’s advice to simply drop the letter in the fireplace, but she thought this might require a magic envelope. So, she used the black paint to cross out her own name and then wrote, “Mr. Can” on the outside of the envelope, stuffing the scrap back inside once she was sure it was dry.  The seal had been broken so she had to do her best to re-heat it and make it stay fastened as best she could. Then, with her fingers crossed for luck, she dropped the envelope into the fireplace and waited for a response.It did not take long. Only moments later, a third envelope showed up, her name visible even in the dancing flames. She retrieved it with her bare hands, not thinking about the fire or the slight scorch her fingertips suffered as she did so.  Ripping it open, she read:Iam afra ib that is not pose idle.  He is hib in g in the wal. You shayl half to comb re trive him.While Serendipity couldn’t decipher the whole message herself, she did understand one word--”not.”  As in Pozzletot would “not” be coming back.  Panic stricken, she did the only thing she could think of to do.  Snatching up the other letter, she ran out the door, not even bothering to put on any shoes, and ran as fast as she could up the hill toward the place that haunted her dreams, the one place she had sworn she would never return to--Marwolaeth Hall.