Page 40 of Scary & Bright
Watching the scenes from Holly’s life, no matter how brief, was touching. I could feel them tugging at my soul and all the parts of me I’d kept hidden. I blinked hard against the threat of tears and took a deep breath before setting the ornament down on my desk and reaching for the velvet bag.
My heart was pounding. I knew how the magic worked; I just hoped it would work for me. I’d never tried to make a specific toy appear, especially not one that came from someone else’s life. It occurred to me once more that it was very possible that this kind of magic was reserved for Santa alone. Determined, I smashed down the thought, sensing that any doubt I had going into this process was going to weigh me and the magic down.
I could feel Mister’s eyes boring into me. Out of my peripherals, I caught him sitting on the desktop, his paws slammed into his mouth almost like a physical reminder to not ask questions and just let me work.
The little velvet bag suddenly felt heavy in my hands as I pulled it into my lap. I stared down into the center of the bag and was met with a darkness that felt blacker than the sunless halves of the year in the Poles. I closed my eyes and focused with all my might on the sight of little Holly in the backseat, clinging to her dalmatian with the sort of vicious toddler joy that caused stuffed animals to fall apart by the seams. The act of finding a toy—the toy—was one I’d never tried before. I’d never had a reason to until now, but it was the only thing I could think of to offer to the girl who had given me more than I could ever hope to repay.
Once I felt confident enough, I kept my eyes shut and stuck my hand into the bag, praying to whatever god that would hear me out that I wouldn’t find it empty. If this didn’t work, I didn’t know what else to try. This particular magic was foreign to me, and I had no other clues how to tap into it.
But I didn’t find the bottom of the bag. My entire body relaxed, my teeth unclenched, and my hand found the immediate comfort of a small, matted plush sitting in the bag.
“Yes!” I yelped, pulling the dalmatian from its velvet prison. “It worked!”
“It worked!” Mister cried as well, leaping to his little feet and throwing his paws in the air in celebration with me.
The stuffed dog was so small in my hands that I felt like I had to be extra careful not to destroy it, and for a brief moment, I understood why Nik was so obsessed with keeping the magic of the Poles in perfect condition. There was no doubting the miraculous nature of what it was capable of—the wild happiness connected to the nostalgic simplicity of being a child. And it was all under his control to ensure that magic sparkle could exist for every child. What a rush! I hadn’t even given Holly the gift yet, and I could feel butterflies beating their wings in my chest.
“Do you know what this is?” I asked Mister with a grin.
“Nope!” Mister responded, matching my expression. “But I think you’re gonna tell me!”
“This is Holly’s toy,” I said, holding the dalmatian against my chest as if it were a real itty-bitty puppy. “Not just any toy, but…”
“Her favorite toy,” Mister finished my sentiment before I had the chance to. He plopped back down on his behind with a squeak and a sigh. “I should have guessed.” His one marble eye looked up at me holding the dog. “And it’s not alive like the rest of us. That means its kid still needs it.”
“Do you think she’ll like it?” I asked, suddenly very aware that I was about to give a ratty old stuffed animal to a grown woman as a romantic gesture. As much as I thought it was a good idea, I couldn’t help but be stricken with the sense that perhaps it was too immature. Or maybe too sentimental? Too much?
“I think she’ll love it, Kramp,” Mister said quietly, holding his hands together as if he were in prayer. “It’s a wonderful gesture, and she would have to have a heart of stone to not appreciate it.”
I bit my lower lip and felt the sting of my one slightly crooked fang digging into the edge of my mouth. While I often ignored Mister’s advice and was skeptical of many of his ideas, he was correct more often than not, and his confidence that Holly would be happy with the gift was enough.
“I should, uh,” I frantically began to look around as I realized I hadn’t thought about the rest of the gift: the presentation. “I should get cleaned up.” I looked down at the dog again, still holding it to my chest. “And I should wrap this guy, somehow.”
“Let me wrap it up for you,” Mister said, walking toward the edge of the desk in my direction. “I’ll make it look nice; I swear.” He put his hands on his hips with a touch of attitude. “I have been told I have an eye for these sorts of things.”
“I suppose you do,” I mused, realizing that the bear genuinely did have more than a hand in castle design and organization. Sure, I manifested everything in the castle, but Mister enjoyed perfecting things. “And I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know much of anything about… wrapping paper and the like.”
“Leave it to me,” he insisted, puffing out his plush chest. “One romantic holiday gift, coming right up.”
Mister reached his arms out, gesturing for me to pass him the dalmatian. I was reluctant to do so, feeling genuinely protective over the dog, but I knew if anyone was going to treat the toy with as much respect as myself, it was definitely Mister Bear. He was a veteran of these sorts of things and had the benefit of first-hand experience of being a toy to understand how important the little dog was.
“Thank you, Mister.” I sighed, glad to have at least one less thing to think about. I rose from the desk chair and turned harsh to either side, trying to crack my back. “If you’re really okay with making the present look like an actual present, I think I might try to sneak off to get a real shower. Maybe give myself a bit of a haircut. Try to make myself look and feel genuinely presentable.”
“I don’t mind a bit, Krampus,” Mister said as he placed the stuffed dog beside him. The dalmatian felt so small in my hands, but seeing it sitting next to the stuffed bear made it look massive. Its flopped-over head came up to Mister’s neck. I almost wanted to ask how he intended to tackle the wrapping project but decided it was best for me to just trust that he genuinely had it under control. He’d never let me down so far—he had no reason to start now.
“But do me one favor?” he said, pressing his voice into a more serious tone.
I had a feeling I knew what he was going to ask, but I humored him. With the big win I’d experienced in successfully acquiring Holly’s toy, I was feeling particularly lighthearted and motivated.
“What’s that, Mister?”
“Try,” he pleaded. “Don’t concede to your brother. Don’t concede to his way of doing things. You have a big heart hidden under the weight of your burden.”
“I’ll do my best,” I assured the bear, unsure even within myself if I meant it or if I was just saying it to be kind.
As I passed the desk on my way out of the study, I patted him on the head and hoped he could feel just how much I appreciated his presence and his help. I hoped he would find time soon to get his new eye sewn on because then I wouldn’t be the only thing in the castle beginning to see things differently.
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