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Under the Pines

D. A. Ratliff

A Detective Elijah Boone Mystery

The tall, majestic Eastern white pine trees stood like sentinels, overlooking the backyard. My grandfather, Poppa, had planted a tree upon the births of his grandchildren—a tree for my cousins Matt and Ronnie, my sister Naomi, and me. How fitting that a dead body lay under the tree bearing my name.

My mother let her Golden Retriever Cleaver out for his morning constitutional, and he had returned with an item. It’s not unusual for him to retrieve something and come home with it. What he found, however, unnerved my mother. She yelled upstairs for me to come down now.

I had been asleep, arriving at two-thirty a.m. after driving thirteen hours from New Orleans. I could do it in eleven with stops, but I brought Hank Guidry, my partner, with me, and it was worse than having a six-year-old kid along. We drove because I was bringing new bikes for the kids’ Christmas presents.

I stumbled downstairs, heard Hank’s door open behind me, and found my mom in the kitchen. She pointed to a bloody knit winter cap on a white garbage bag spread on the table.

“Cleaver brought that in just now.”

I took a closer look. “That’s congealed blood and looks like brain matter.” I glanced at Hank. “Get some shoes and a jacket on. We need to look around.”

I grabbed my dad’s jacket and then checked Cleaver. He had a bit of blood around his mouth. “Does he have a pattern when he goes out?”

“Yes, he likes to run to the far end of the yard and check out the fence line. He wasn’t gone long. He always brings his finds back as soon as he grabs them.”

Hank and I headed toward the fence, neither speaking. I figured he remembered the last time he was here as well as I did. The sheriff arrested me for murder, and Hank had come to clear me. Neither of us wanted to deal with that again.

That point became moot as we approached the four tall pines. At the base of the tree that held the brass plaque with my name and birthdate on it lay the body of a male, about fifty years old, with his head bashed in.

I heard a groan from Hank. “Eli, I’m not coming back here again. I can get dead bodies in New Orleans.”

“Better call the sheriff.”

As befits a small community, the deputies arrive with lights and sirens blazing. One of them, Nance Morgan, the brother-in-law of the man I supposedly killed last summer, took charge and ordered Hank and me to back off, as we were out of our jurisdiction. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out, but we quietly returned to the house.

Sheriff Jim Vickers arrived about twenty minutes later and knocked on the kitchen door. A forensic tech accompanied him.

 “Detective Elijah Boone of the New Orleans police. Not you again.”

“Yep. Me, again, Sheriff.”

He pointed to the hat. “This the hat?”

I heard Hank’s intake of breath. The two men were wary of each other in the summer and unsure of the circumstances now. My mom sensed the tension and intervened.

“Sheriff Vickers, let me get you a cup of coffee. And yes, that’s the hat Cleaver brought from the yard.”

The tech took several photos of the hat, turning it over to photograph the other side, then carefully placed the knitted hat in one evidence bag, slipped the plastic garbage bag, now smeared with blood, into another, wrote the ID number and date on the bags, and sealed and initialed them.

Vickers took a sip of his coffee. “You boys see, we can do all that fancy forensics work here too.”

“Never a doubt, Sheriff. Do you know who the victim is?”

“You tell me. You ever seen him before?”

Ahh… the bait. The sheriff would love to pin this on me. “No sir, I have no idea who this man is. I’ll ask again, do you?”

“If I do, it’s no concern of yours—for the moment. Now, why are you here?”

“Sheriff, it’s the holidays. I came to spend it with my family.”

“And just happened to bring your partner along?”

Again, I heard an intake of breath from Hank and a quick response from my mother. “We invited Hank as his children will be away for the holidays, and I didn’t want him to be alone. He’s family to us.”

Vickers glared at me but changed the subject. “I need to know everyone’s movements since you arrived this morning. Morris leaves for work at six, doesn’t he?” Mom nodded. “I’ll stop by to chat with him on the way back to the station. Now, Jessie, you first.”

Twenty minutes later, Vickers left, and about an hour later, the coroner left with the body. We had instructions to avoid the cordoned-off crime scene until released. So, of course, when the last deputy left, Hank and I immediately headed to the pines.

“You get all the pictures we needed before they got here?”

“Yeah, got them—close-ups of the body, the hat, and the fence.”

“Good, let’s check the scene out, and then we’ll send everything to Cardi to get some info for us.”

We reached the pine trees, and I stood for a minute, letting the sweet, sharp fragrance from the pine needles envelop me. I watched these pines grow from when I was a young boy. Someone had invaded my family’s personal space, and I needed to know who and why.

Hank wandered from tree to tree. “Your grandad planted all of these when each of you was born?”

“Yes. When we turned twelve, he held a ceremony to mount a brass plaque inscribed with our name and birthdate onto the tree. By then, the trees were big enough for the plaques.”

“Lots of traditions in your family, good ones.” He pulled a few pine needles from a branch and sniffed them. “Such a nice smell.”  He then grinned. “I can tell that brain of yours is working overtime. What are you thinking?”

“I think that a dead body on my parents’ property and lying underneath the tree with my name on it is not a coincidence.”

Hank sighed. “Here we go again.”

~~~

By lunchtime, we had an answer from Detective Cardia Fleming that we weren’t expecting. She called Hank, and he put her on speaker.

“Just what are you two involved in? With only facial recognition, no DNA, or fingerprints, we think this man is Edward LaPointe. He’s a two-bit hood out of Baton Rouge with ties to a big drug dealer in NOLA, Peron Martinez. What the Hades is he doing in a small town in South Carolina where you happen to be?”

Hank and I exchanged glances. “Cardi, I don’t know, but whatever brought him here got him killed and dumped in my parents’ backyard. Send us everything you’ve got on LaPointe and Martinez.”

“Eli, I don’t have to remind you that you have no jurisdiction in SC, or do I?”

“You don’t, but I have to make certain this has nothing to do with my family. You know I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Just be careful. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Hank ended the call, and we were about to discuss what to do next when the front door burst open, and my niece and nephew, Danny and Elisa, came flying in. I’m uncertain if they were happier seeing me or seeing “Uncle” Hank. Mimi gave me a big hug.

“Nice to have you home for the holidays, big brother. But wow, you made quite the entrance. Any idea why that man was there?”

“No, no idea yet. Someone might have come up through the woods and dumped the body over the fence.” I looked at Hank as I fabricated a story on the spot. His reaction was a slight wobble of his head.

“I don’t want the kids to know.”

“We need to keep them inside. There is still police tape around the area.”

“Oh no. You haven’t been home in a while. To honor us, the kids have put ribbons on the trees for the last three Christmases. We’re supposed to do that on the twenty-third.”

“Yikes. Okay, I’ll see if I can get the sheriff to take the tape down.”

“Better let Mom or Dad do that. I don’t think the sheriff likes you much.”

I laughed. “Good point. Neither do I.”

Mom came into the room. “Get your coats, boys. We are heading to the Christmas tree lot to get the tree. Grandpa and Dalton are meeting us there.”

LaPointe’s death would have to wait. Christmas trees come first.

~~~

Hank and I wrestled the big eight-foot tree into the house and set it up in the family room addition that had vaulted ceilings. Mimi took the kids home for a bit, but they would all be back for chili and tree trimming later. I promised the kids cookies from Mama Leone, who owned my favorite restaurant in New Orleans. She sent a massive box of Italian Christmas Cookies, a homemade Panettone, and an Italian Christmas Cream cake.

They wouldn’t be back until six, so I called my old friend and attorney, Ted Crawford, and asked him to meet us for coffee at a little shop near his office. He was there when we arrived.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re in trouble?”

“Nice to see you too, Ted. So, you know?”

“That a body ended up on the Boone property on the same day you arrived? Yea, everyone in town has heard.”

“I didn’t do it.”

Hank threw up his hands and grinned. “I swear, Ted, he didn’t do it.”  

Ted laughed. “I know that, but I’ll bet the sheriff isn’t certain.”

“I don’t think he likes me.”

“Uh… no. Heard that after the Davis case, he got reamed out by the county prosecutor and the judge for being so quick to arrest you.”

“My heart bleeds for him.”

“What’s going, Eli?”

“Not sure, Ted, but we need to know what you know about any drug dealers in town.”

“I do know that with all the increased shipping traffic from here to Charleston, Savannah, and Brunswick, rumors have been flying that illicit trafficking in drugs and stolen items is on the increase.”

“Let me tell you what we know, which is not much.”  I proceeded to fill him in on the information that Cardi gave us about the dead man and his connection to drugs in New Orleans.

“You think there’s a connection?”

“Ted, we don’t know. But for a man with ties to NOLA to turn up dead in my parents’ yard, you tell me.”

Ted’s eyes shifted from me to Hank and back. “There is one thing I can say. Things get exciting when you two show up. Just so happens that the annual Chamber of Commerce Christmas Breakfast is tomorrow morning. The D.A. Jace Bonner will be there. I’ll see what I can learn from him without arousing suspicion.”

We left in time to get home for the evening’s festivities. After dinner, Hank helped the kids sort out the holiday lights while Mom and Mimi cleared the dishes. My dad and brother-in-law Dalton approached me, and I knew they had questions. The problem was that I had few answers.

“Eli, what do you think happened? Why did someone use our land to dump a body?”

“Dad, maybe, but….”

Dalton grimaced. “But what?”

I told them what we knew. Dalton, who was the principal at the high school, frowned. “We’re seeing an increase in drugs coming into the school system. Alcohol is always a problem, but painkillers like Vicodin are increasingly becoming an issue. The police drug task force is trying, but they haven’t been able to discover the pipeline or who the supplier is. We lost a student a month ago to a drug overdose. She was sixteen.”

“Eli, you said this man is from Louisiana. Is he connected to any cases you have worked on?”

“Not that we’ve been able to find, Dad. Some of the homicides we have dealt with have certainly had drug connections, but since Hank and I began working in Special Crimes, we haven’t had any contact with the victim.”

My dad shook his head. “Eli, I don’t believe in coincidences, and I know you don’t either. So, you tell me if my family is in danger.”

I had to be honest. “I can’t answer that with high confidence, Dad. I don’t know.”

“Morris, boys.” I looked past my dad to see Mom staring at us. “We are about to start trimming the tree, and then we will have hot chocolate and Mama Leone’s cookies.”

I caught her look as I walked past her to help with the lights. She was worried. I was worried, too.

~~~

Ted called about ten-thirty the following morning, the twenty-first, asking if we would meet him at the coffee shop. He was sitting at a table in the corner, away from the counter. We ordered coffee and joined him.

He frowned and shook his head as we sat. “That bad, Ted?”

“Eli, our sleepy little, small town is not so innocent. I got an earful, but it’s all off the record. I didn’t mention you, but I’m sure Bonner knows we’re friends.”  He gulped coffee before he continued. “According to Bonner, a South American drug cartel has infiltrated the ports, especially at Brunswick, and is moving drugs through a pipeline that comes through here. They suspect freight drivers are involved, but the DEA hasn’t set up a sting yet. They are waiting to get a better idea of who the local is that’s involved.”

Hank frowned. “Any idea about the New Orleans connection? Eli and I don’t know this dead dude or anything about this cartel group.”

“Bonner said rumor has it that the South American group has aligned with a drug kingpin in Louisianna. Not sure if he’s out of New Orleans or Baton Rouge.”

“And the DEA and LEOs have no idea who’s running the show here?”

“None.” Ted glanced around the room. “Could be anyone.”

We left and stood on the sidewalk, saying goodbye, when someone called out my name. “Boone.”  I looked over my shoulder to find Deputy Morgan, accompanied by two other officers, walking toward us.

“Sheriff wants to talk to you two.”

I decided not to go quietly. “We are busy with some family errands, Deputy Morgan. Tell the sheriff we will stop by later.”

Mogan took a step too close to me, but I held my temper. “Sheriff Vickers wants you at the station now. Are you going to make this fun… I mean, difficult for me?” His grin was a tad maniacal.

I smiled my most insincere smile. “Well, I sure wouldn’t want to keep Sheriff Vickers waiting. Lead the way.”

Morgan turned, and we followed with the two deputies behind us. I heard Ted on his phone telling his office he wouldn’t be in for a while, and he came along.

~~~

We waited in the lobby until Vickers arrived. He glared at Ted. “You here as their attorney?” 

“Not yet, Sheriff.”

“Then stay out of my way.” He jerked his head toward a guy in a dress shirt and tie. “Detective Hargrave will be talking to you, Guidry.” He turned toward me. “Follow me.”

We sat in an interrogation room. Vickers bragged they had video and audio equipment just like the city cops. I’d had enough, and we hadn’t started.

“Good for you. Why did you want to chat.”

“The dead man in your yard was from Baton Rouge. Names Eddie LaPointe. What do you know about him?”

“I don’t know anything. Never heard of him.”

“He’s from Baton Rouge.”

“So? Baton Rouge is an hour and a half drive from New Orleans. They have their own cops.”

“I don’t believe you.” He lit into question after question. What did I know about the drug scene in New Orleans and Baton Rouge? Why did we come here? Why now? Why was that dead man in my parent’s yard? He kept up question after question, and I finally interrupted him.

“Sheriff, I have told you, don’t know the dead man, not involved in any cases where he is a suspect or witness. I just came to spend the holidays with my family. Now, can I go?”

Vickers glared at me. “Get out of here, but I’m not done with you.”

Hank and Ted were waiting for me, and we walked to Ted’s office, where we debriefed. We left there with Ted’s admonishment not to speak to the sheriff again without his presence. A dollar from each of us solidified the attorney-client privilege. Now, if we only knew what was going on.

~~~

Traditionally, children in the family made their Christmas pilgrimage to see Santa on December 22. We piled into Dad’s big SUV and headed downtown to the Santa Festival to meet my sister, cousins, and their families.

Main Street, now lined with antique stores, art galleries, and boutiques, sparkled with thousands of white lights and holiday decorations. The building that once housed my dad’s hardware store now held a florist and a doll shop—times certainly changed.

A wave of nostalgia washed over me, not for my childhood but for my son, Eric. The last time I saw him for the holidays was on this same street, watching the Christmas parade. I could feel his small six-year-old hand in mine, his eyes glued to the spectacle. Two months later, I suffered a gunshot wound during a domestic disturbance call. Divorce is never easy, but my wife, scared by the incident, filed for divorce, took my son, and left New Orleans. I never understood people who marry police officers, firefighters, or doctors knowing the hours we keep, and the dangers involved and then leave when they realize the actuality of what we do.

I tapped my mom on the shoulder and told her I was going to walk around a bit. I wandered down the street toward the diner, where there were no crowds. The diner was one of the few businesses remaining from my days growing up here. Ten feet before I reached the diner door, someone grabbed me from behind, and an arm clamped around my throat in a choke hold. I struggled to get free, but within seconds, I passed out.

Consciousness returned, and I lay face down in an alley behind the diner. I started to push myself up, but a hard kick to the ribs slammed me back to the asphalt. Someone knelt beside me, grabbed a handful of my hair, and raised my head.

“Mr. Fancy Detective, you need to keep your nose out of our business. If you want to keep your family safe, do the holiday thing and then get out of town. This is your only warning.”

Before I could respond, someone kicked me in the ribs again. Strong arms pulled me onto my feet and restrained me as a hard blow to my abdomen landed almost immediately. I kicked out as a fist connected the side of my face, and my head jerked back. The bastard landed blow after blow until I passed out.

I woke up with a flashlight in my eyes, and I lashed out, trying to get up. Hank’s voice stopped me. “Eli, it’s okay. Let the paramedic examine you.”

I pushed the paramedic away and grabbed Hank’s arm. “I didn’t see who did this, but they told me to stay out of their business.”

Hank chuckled. “Yeah. Well, that’s not going to happen. Now let the paramedic treat you.”

~~~

The last place I wanted to be was a bed in the Colleton Medical Center ER. The doctor wanted to take X-rays. I said no. My mom said yes, and she won. Fuming, I sat on the side of the bed, waiting for the doctor to release me, when Sheriff Vickers walked in.

“You sure do stir up trouble when you are in town, boy.”

Adrenaline surged through me as I fought the urge to deck him. “I am not a boy in any context you want to use that word. I am Detective Lieutenant Elijah Boone of the New Orleans Police Department, and you would do well to remember that.”

Vickers scoffed. “That ain’t getting you anywhere in my town. What did you do to provoke the men who got the better of you?”

“I gave my statement to the city police. You can read it.”

“You know what, I think you have some bad friends trying to move into my town, and I’m going to stop you. Don’t leave town until I tell you can go.”

He brushed past Hank, who was standing in the doorway. From the look on Hank’s face, I knew he wanted to deck the good sheriff, too.

~~~

Mom hovered over me at breakfast the next day like I was three years old. I was afraid for a moment that she would try to feed me. “Mom, I’m fine. No need to pamper me.”

“You have one fractured rib, several bruised ones, and you took some hard hits to the head. So, I am going to take care of you.”

Hank came into the kitchen, and Mom told him to sit down. He complied, and she set a plate of eggs, bacon, and grits before him. He smiled as she left the room to wrap more presents.

“I could get used to this.”

“Mom can bring you food in jail if Vickers gets his way. What did you find out from Cardi.”

“She met with Jenner from Vice and Mark Maron, an FBI drug task force agent. According to Maron, Peron Martinez is quickly building an empire in New Orleans, and they want him badly. He is known to seek other locations to set up hubs for distribution.”

“Let me guess—Walterboro is one of them.”

“Yep, Charleston, Brunswick, Savannah, and Walterboro.”

“Any surveillance on the action here?”

“They sent a team in a few weeks ago but haven’t set up surveillance yet. Maron said they first talked to the South Carolina Law Enforcement Division and had SLED’s drug division brief the local police. I’d say Martinez has someone leading the effort here.”

“Why kill LaPoint? Just because I was coming home?”

“Maybe so. We know Vickers took a whipping after rushing to arrest you, so maybe he decided to try and connect you to Martinez.”

“We need to find out.”

We headed to the pool hall in town. My old high school buddy owned the place, and they opened at ten in the morning. Mom asked us to return by noon when the kids were all coming for lunch and to tie the ribbons around the white pines.

Pete Carmack seemed happy to see me. He offered us beers on the house, but we settled for coffee. I got right to the point. “Pete, you know someone left a body in my parents’ backyard a few days ago. We’ve found out the dead man might be associated with drugs coming into Walterboro. You get a lot of locals and transients through here. Have you heard anything?”

Pete chewed his bottom lip and glanced around the dark room. “Got a kid in high school. She knew the gal who died from an overdose a few weeks back. Thank goodness, my daughter is a good girl. She doesn’t hang with that crowd.”

He tapped the table, pensive, and I thought he was trying to decide what to do. The man who owns the town pool hall usually has knowledge of both sides of life in a small town. Never pays to be on the wrong side. Pete stopped tapping.

“Eli, you didn’t hear this from me, but word on the street is that cops are involved.”

“Any idea who?

“I don’t know names, just that city and county cops might be on the take. A group of warehouse dudes come in here, and I heard them talking about contraband going through the shipping docks.” He shook his head. “Listen, I have to keep out of all of this. Not good for business, but I don’t want kids dying. I’ll keep my ears open.”

“Thanks, man.” 

Hank and I walked out onto the street. My partner was not a man of many words. He always gets to the point. “We need to stop this, Eli. Kids are dying.”

I slapped him on the back. “That we do.”

We headed back to the house where the family had gathered. Mom served beef stew and cornbread muffins for lunch, and after the ribbon tying, the kids planned on baking cookies. Hank’s excitement about making cookies was a bit unnerving. We walked to the back of the yard to the majestic pine trees.

The kids tied large red plaid bows to the trunks of the four original trees and red and white striped ribbons to the smaller trees planted for each of them. The kids wanted to sing carols, and we all joined in. As we started to return to the house, the air exploded with the sound of gunfire. I was standing near the tree bearing my nameplate when a bullet struck it, sending pine bark scattering through the air. Hank and I spun simultaneously, withdrawing our guns from the holsters on our belts. We fired into the woods as I yelled for Dad to get everyone back to the house.

Hank jumped the fence with me struggling behind, and we ran down an incline toward Marler Road, an old logging road. Before we got there, we heard an engine roaring to life and tires spinning on a rough road.

“They got away.” Hank was out of breath.

“Yeah. Let’s get back.”

My heart pounded harder the closer I got to the yard, then nearly stopped when I saw Mom, Dad, and Dalton kneeling on the ground. I ran as hard as I could and jumped over the fence.

Racing to them, I stopped dead in my tracks, breathing heavily, my ribs burning in pain, but I was more concerned about what I saw. Cleaver lay on his side, his shoulder blood-soaked. Mom was crying, and Dad looked at me, tears in his eyes. “He must have sensed something. He jumped in front of Elisa, knocked her down, and got hit by a bullet.”

Hank knelt beside the dog, putting his hand on Cleaver’s chest. “He’s alive.” Parting the fur where the wound was, he looked at my mom and smiled. “It’s okay, Jessie, just a graze wound, not too deep. We need to get him to the vet.”

Dalton picked Cleaver up and turned toward my mom. “Jessie, go get some towels and meet me at the car. We’ll take him to Doc Morrison.”  He looked at me. “Eli, protect this family.”

“I will.”

As the trio took Cleaver away, Hank yelled out an expletive. “We can’t go to the locals. That could have been them.”

“No, we can’t.” I pulled my phone from my jacket. “Time to call Ted. We need his help.”

~~~

Mimi, my cousins Matt and Ronnie, and their spouses had taken the kids home when Ted arrived an hour or so later. He walked into the house and said nothing until he plopped down on the den couch.

“What the hell, Eli?”

“I wish I knew. Want a drink?” I held up a bottle of bourbon.

“Yes, I’d love a drink. I called my contact at SLED, and he put me in touch with the lead investigator in the drug unit. Captain Marcus Franklin will be here in about an hour. I’ll tell you. He was glad we called them first. How’s the dog?”

“Mom called. Said he’s going to be fine. They should be home soon.”

“Good.” 

I handed Ted a drink and sat across from him. “What do we do now?”

“We wait for SLED to tell us.”

While we waited, Hank called Cardi for any updates. She had none. Dalton dropped Mom, Dad, and a groggy Cleaver and went home. Mom headed for the kitchen, and Dad put Cleaver in his bed under the breakfast nook window. She vowed to make cookies for the grandkids regardless, and Hank and Dad helped.

Four SLED officers arrived, and I called Hank to rejoin us. Captain Franklin immediately began to take our statements, starting with our arrival and finding the body. He was professional and thorough, and I admired him for that.

“Detective Boone, do you have any thoughts on who is involved?”

“I suspect you know more than I do. I have a local source who hears on the street that LEOs are involved and people on the transportation docks, but no names.”

“We hear that too, but no proof for any of them. Detective, do you have a theory as to why anyone would dump a body on this property and that it’s someone from your neck of the woods?”

I didn’t answer him immediately as I had no proof, only suspicions. Casting wrong suspicions never ended well. “Let me say that I have no good information, but I think that someone in this town heard I was coming home for the holidays and got scared. I assume you are aware of the incident last summer?” He nodded. “If I were to speculate, we,” I nodded toward Hank, “ticked off some folks within the Sheriff’s office. They may have wanted to get us out of the way if any of them are involved.”

“My thinking as well. You have not reported the shooting to the sheriff?”

Ted answered. “They did not on my advice. We told the younger family members that the shots were from hunters illegally on the property. Considering the circumstances, we thought it best to keep to that story until we spoke with you.”

Captain Franklin rose. “I think that’s how we will keep it for now. I am assigning unmarked cars to watch the house and the logging road. Keeping your family away from here now might be a good idea.”

“I’m sending my parents to my sister’s tonight. Hank and I are staying here.”

“Good. Contact me if you hear anything.”

~~~

It was nearing eight p.m. when Cardi called. “Might have a break. I got a call from the FBI, and they asked that since you are there, be on the lookout for Peron Martinez. DEA spotted him in Brunswick and reported that they believe he’s on the way to Walterboro to meet with contacts there.”

“Has the FBI contacted SLED here?”

“Not sure.”

“I’ll call our contact now and tell him. Keep me updated.”

“Stay in touch.”

“I will.”

I was about to call Franklin when Pete Carmack called. I could barely hear him over the din of noise in the pool hall. “Eli, Izzy, my bartender overheard one of the truck drivers say, “the big guy” was coming tonight, but first, they were taking care of those two nosy New Orleans cops.”

“Did she know the driver?”

“No, never been in before.”

“Thanks, Pete. I owe you one.”

As I dialed Franklin, I yelled at my partner. He came to the doorway. “Hank, tell Mom and Dad to pack a bag and get Cleaver ready. They need to go to Mimi’s right now.”

A SLED officer followed Mom and Dad to Mimi’s after he carried Cleaver to the car. Meanwhile, Hank and I checked that the windows and doors were locked. We had to be ready.

~~~

Two hours later, Hank and I sat in the den—Hank where he could see the front entry and me where I could see the backdoor—armed with our personal handguns and Dad’s two rifles. SLED officers were watching the house, the road, and the logging lane behind the house.

I hate stakeouts, and patience is not my strong suit. Hank can sit in a parked car for hours, but I get antsy, which perfectly describes my mood. SLED left us radios, and we sat in silence, waiting. We knew whoever attacked us would come again.

The radios cackled, and we both jumped.

“Unit 3: 10-06.”  Standby, we waited.

“Unit 3: 10-10. Vehicle approaching. Turning onto the logging road. Three male occupants. Unit 6 deploy drone on my mark.”

“Unit 6. Unit 3: 10-4 Drone on standby for your mark.”

Hank and I rose, and I turned out the dim lamp. “They are coming from the woods.”

We exited the back door and hunkered down on the screened-in porch. I remained close to the light switch for the backyard flood lights. These guys would not be expecting the spotlights.

We listened to the buzz of the drone as the operator deployed it, carefully keeping it far enough away to muffle the sound but close enough for the infrared camera to detect the assailants’ heat signatures as the trio approached the back fence line.

“Unit 6: Perps climbing fence. Pulling drone.”

The tactical officers surrounding the yard maintained radio silence. Wearing night goggles, they could watch the progression of the men as they approached the house. I could hear Hank’s deep but steady breathing. Proof of why I always wanted him as my partner—stable and fearless, even if dead bodies make him squeamish. We waited in silence for the command to hit the lights.

The commander’s voice sounded. “Lights. Go.”

I threw the switch, and the backyard lit up, revealing three armed men about eighty feet from the porch. Several officers were converging on them when one decided to run. He tried to slip between two SWAT guys, but he ended up face down from the impact of a beanbag gun. One of the perps chose to fight. He raised his weapon, and we raised ours, but a SLED officer was quicker. It was a shot to the shoulder, and the guy was down as well.

The third perp went to his knees as ordered and forced onto his stomach, and his hands cuffed behind him. Paramedics arrived to treat the other two. Captain Franklin arrived, barking instructions to the officer guarding the handcuffed man. “Get him up and pull off that mask.”

The full-face mask came off, and Hank chuckled. “Well, I think ‘kiss my grits’ is appropriate, right? Meet Sheriff Detective Hargraves.” Hargraves glared at Hank and then spat at him.

Franklin ordered his men to take Hargraves away.

~~~

SLED set up command headquarters at the Yemassee Police Department, about twenty miles from Walterboro. Franklin had Hank and me wait in an interrogation room with coffee and doughnuts. Hank chuckled as he grabbed one. “The legacy lives on.”

Franklin entered with a sheaf of papers. “I just got off the phone with my superintendent, and he with yours. SLED has granted you and Detective Guidry temporary active status with this investigation. I want you present as we conduct interviews. I have a detective at the hospital in Charleston interviewing the third man, who we have identified as Ricky Landrum from Beaufort. He works for Turner Transport. Let’s get started.”

Hargrave lawyered up before he got the seat warm, so Franklin brought in the next guy—a young deputy with the sheriff’s office, Johnny Lee Romer. He shuffled in, head down, and sat where told.

Franklin went through the formalities and then asked Romer one question. “Tell me why, Deputy.”

Romer raised his head. “Sheriff ordered me.”

Hank and I exchanged glances as Franklin continued. “Sheriff Vickers ordered you to attack Det. Boone and his family.”

“Yeah, he said, Detective Boone worked for the drug cartel, and he needed to be stopped.”

“Sheriff Vickers said he needed to be stopped?”

“Yeah, but he used the word neutralized, but I don’t think he meant to kill him, just arrest him.”

“Who was the civilian with you and Detective Hargraves?”

“A guy from a transport company who could identify Boone. Said he’d seen him with the drug dealers.”

 “Deputy Romer, are you working with the drug cartel?”

“No.” His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No, I was under orders to bring Boone in.”

Franklin rose, and we stepped out into the hallway. “Crazy as it seems, I think that young man is telling the truth. Vickers might be trying for a cover story.”

Hank frowned. “But they have no proof Eli’s involved.”

“They know I’m from New Orleans, why they killed LaPointe and dropped him on my family’s property. To make a connection. Tenuous but enough to make people wonder.”

The interview room door opened. “Captain, he has something he wants to tell you.”

We entered, and Romer started talking immediately. “Captain, some of us on the force, well, we think the chief is involved with the drug cartel. Deputy Morgan’s been trying to get the goods on him. He wanted me to keep him informed of what they are doing.”

Morgan’s name shocked me. “Deputy Morgan thinks Chief Vickers is involved?”

Romer nodded. “He overheard the chief talking to someone about meeting a man from New Orleans. Morgan thought it was Boone.”

“Did Morgan tell you anything else?”

“He told us that he thinks Detective Hargraves is involved with Vickers. That they are providing safe passage for the drug smugglers.”

“Deputy Romer, we are not formally charging you until we determine what’s happening here. However, we will detain you for now.”

We started to leave, but Romer stopped us. “Morgan is following the chief. He learned Vickers was meeting with some man from New Orleans tonight.”

“Do you know where?”

Romer nodded. “Turner Transport.”

~~~

At one in the morning, Franklin’s assembled task force formed a perimeter around Turner Transport, located on a cul-de-sac in the back section of the industrial park. A SLED tactical team hid along a tree line just off the property. The tactical commander, who had eyes on the front and rear of the vast warehouse and dock, reported several targets surrounding the building—Deputy Morgan and his team. One by one, SLED officers pulled the locals away from the building.

Hank and I were mic’d up but ordered to stand down from involvement in the operation. Franklin muttered something about not wanting to lose cops from outside his command. I wasn’t too excited about him losing me either, but I wanted this over.

We waited with Captain Franklin in the command truck parked out of sight of Turner Transport, silent as we waited for Martinez. Officer Romer, who was cooperating, radioed Vickers, telling him Hargraves had ordered him to report that Hank and I had been neutralized, and the detective was busy cleaning up the scene. The sheriff seemed to buy that.

It was two am when a black Mercedes G-Class approached the warehouse. Hank whistled lowly. “That’s about a quarter of a million bucks worth of car. Gotta be our man.”

Four men exited the car, three with rifles visible. The fourth man was no doubt Peron Martinez. As they walked to the warehouse door, another car pulled up, and Sheriff Vickers and another officer we recognized joined them. The plan was to allow them to enter the building. SLED had portable listening devices in place to hear the conversation inside.

Through our earbuds, though faint, we could hear them greet each other, and Martinez asked someone for an update. When the person explaining the operation finished, Franklin gave the tactical commander the order to go. In five minutes, it was over, as gunfire and the sound of flashbangs faded. Franklin motioned us to follow him, and we rounded the corner to find Turner Transport bathed in spotlights from a hovering helicopter and SLED tactical guarding a line of handcuffed men. There appeared to be two perps and one officer being attended to by paramedics.

Martinez was stoic, his expression blank, his eyes focused forward. He was someone else’s worry. My attention was on the good sheriff. As I approached him, Morgan got to him first.

“You crooked son of a bitch.” He was about to slug Vickers when a linebacker-sized SLED officer intervened. Livid, Morgan jerked his arm away and then spotted me. His reaction surprised me.

“Boone. Sorry, I suspected the sheriff was behind the body at your parents’ place, but I had to play along. I knew he was crooked. Hard enough being a cop without scum like this looking out for himself. I got wind he was coming here after I overheard Hargraves and him talking.”

“I understand, Deputy.”

“And about my brother-in-law, he was no good, but my wife loved her brother. Sometimes…. “

“Sometimes we do what we gotta do. We’re good.”

~~~

It was mid-morning before we got back to the house. Mom and Dad were busy with last-minute prep for the holiday. Cleaver was limping but happy as usual. Mom fed us, and then Hank and I slept until four p.m.

I took the hottest shower possible, then called Cardi to bring her up to speed before I went downstairs. Dad and Hank were returning from the fish market, where they got shrimp for our traditional Christmas Eve Shrimp and Grits dinner.

Dad and I were discussing when the kids would arrive on Christmas morning so we could get the bikes from the shed when Ted stopped by carrying a basket of wine and cheese. We took coffee to the den and caught him up about the previous night.

“The town is buzzing, either shocked or saying I told you he was corrupt. You two might have redeemed yourselves.”

I shook my head. “I think it’s best if Deputy Morgan gets the glory. He is here and needs loyalty from these people.”

Ted nodded. “Yeah, that’s how we should play it.”

“What about the Romer kid?” Hank had a soft spot for the predicament the young deputy was in.

“Ran into Judge Henry at the diner during lunch. He said he’d heard that Morgan vouched for the kid. He said he had sent him undercover, but neither knew that these people would make an attempt on your lives. Moran ordered him to appear loyal to Hargraves to discover what he was up to.” He stood. “I need to pick up Helena. We are going to our daughter’s home in Aiken for Christmas. I’ll be back on the twenty-sixth. Check-in before you leave.”

Ted left with a large tin of cookies and cupcakes. By seven, the family arrived for dinner, and everyone opened one small gift from Mom and Dad. I thought Hank would cry when he realized he had a gift, too. I’m not sure what I’ll do with him on Christmas morning when he finds out they got him a new fishing rod, and I got him a new tackle box.

~~~

Christmas Day was as much fun as I have had in a few years. I couldn’t bike or play basketball with the kids as my ribs were still painful, but Uncle Hank joined in. And he did get a bit misty-eyed when he saw his new fishing gear.

My best present was a total surprise, a call from my son, Eric. Shaken, I walked outside as I answered.

“Dad, just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Eric. Good to hear from you.”

“Yeah, well, only got a minute, but just hope you had a good day.”

“I have. In Walterboro with your grandparents.”

“Tell them hi for me.”

“I will. They’d love to see you, and so would I.”

“Yeah, well, maybe. Gotta go.”

“Call anytime, Eric.”

“Yeah, Dad, you too. Bye.”

Mom was waiting for me when I went back into the house. “Eric?” I nodded. She hugged me, both of us unable to talk. Finally, she pulled away.

“Come on, time for supper before we send these kids home.”

~~~

The next day, Franklin called and asked us to come to the Sheriff’s Office for statements. He, Deputy Morgan, an FBI agent, and D.A. Bonner were there. We gave our statements, and then Franklin gave us an update.

“We transported Peron Martinez and his associates to the Charleston County Detention Center, as there is greater security there. Vickers, Hargraves, three other officers, the owner of Tucker Transport, and some of his employees are in cells here. Agents from the task force in New Orleans will join Agent Roth here. Big fish here, gentlemen. Well done.”

“Captain, do you have an idea of who killed LaPointe and dumped him in my parents’ yard?”

“According to the former sheriff, Hargraves and one of the deputies did that. They wanted to put suspicion on you. They were worried you were coming to town to investigate them.”

“The irony is I knew nothing about this until the body showed up.”

“Vickers is singing like a little birdie. He claims Hargraves threatened his family if he didn’t go along, but this morning, when the bank opened, we got a warrant and discovered a safety deposit box with over one hundred thousand dollars in cash. I find his story a bit hard to believe.”

Bonner nodded. “We can build a good case locally against Vickers and the others. Acting Sheriff Morgan uncovered a lot of evidence as he investigated him. We owe you thanks for helping with this investigation. The death of anyone is tragic, but without you making the connection of LaPointe to the drug investigation, this might not have had the outcome we needed.”

As Hank and I left, Morgan stopped me. “Boone, I appreciate your assistance.”

“You’re welcome.”

The slightest smile crossed his face. “Just remember, this is my town.”

Hank scoffed. “Great town, but you can keep it.”

~~~

We left Walterboro the following morning, heading home. Mom packed us food, including several pieces of fried chicken. The way Hank was eyeing the bag holding the chicken, I knew it wouldn’t last until the Georgia line. Life was back to normal.

Please visit Deborah on Vocal Media:  https://vocal.media/authors/d-a-ratliff And on her blog: https://daratliffauthor.wordpress.com

Images are free use and require no attribution. Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay. 

Welcome to Write the Story! Each month, Writers Unite! will offer a writing prompt for writers to create a story from and share with everyone. WU! wants to help our members and followers to generate more traffic to their platforms.  Please check out the authors’ blogs, websites, and Facebook pages and show them support. We would love to hear your thoughts about the stories and appreciate your support! 

The Pages of Time

Kenneth Lawson

Pinecones mixed with the smoky scent of wood, snapping and cracking in the fireplace, filled the room with the heady aroma of pine. The sun’s glare bounced off the Christmas tree’s ornaments, causing chaotic reflections to bounce over the room. Christmas existed in full force within the room.

I leaned back in my battered leather chair and sipped on my still piping hot coffee, waiting patiently for it to cool enough to drink.

 It had been decades since I first sat in this chair. The old chair was like an old friend who waited for me to come and sit every day. It had grown accustomed to my ways of sitting and melded its cushions to fit my body like a glove. Settling into the chair was much like sliding into a comfortable bed. Everything just felt right.

But nothing was right anymore. Things have changed in the last few years. Even ordinary things felt off somehow. Time had marched on, whether I liked it or not. The coffee cooled down, and the leather squeaked as I shifted. Both were familiar and comforting. The footsteps running down the hall from the past interrupted my deep thoughts on time and my old age.

It sounded more like a herd of elephants plowing through the house. Grandchildren are like that. I set my coffee on the table next to my chair, and the door bounced open, and two wildly happy and excited kids came in. My lap was immediately invaded with squirming bundles of energy. 

“Grandpa!” they screamed in unison as I tried to hold them in one place. My daughter and her husband entered behind the kids.

“Billy, Robbie, get down off Grandpa.” She tried to get them down from my lap.

‘“No. No, they’re okay as long as they sit still.’ I got them settled in my lap, and they calmed down a little.

After a few minutes of idle conversation about the weather and other topics, we got the kids to settle down on the floor before us and opened presents. By then, I was sipping my coffee quietly while the kids waited impatiently as presents were handed out.

An hour later, the room looked like a paper factory had exploded. Wrapping paper and boxes were all over the floor. Attempts were made to contain the mess, but it was a lost cause, with two little kids running around and playing with empty boxes and toys. In contrast, my new vinyl records, fountain pens, and books lay neatly on the table next to me, and my daughter’s and son-in-law’s presents were stacked next to her on the floor.

~~~

I flipped through the pages of my old journals and read my old notes about days gone by decades ago. How scribbled, barely legible lines written years ago could bring back memories was odd. Now, the grandkids are grown, and I’m up to great-grandkids. Granted, they’re little now, but those days would also pass soon.

Christmas was different as I was not as mobile as I once was. I spent most of my time in my favorite old leather chair, now crackled and worn. My oldest grandson arrived early, and I watched as he deftly started a fire in the fireplace. His small children carried pinecones collected from the stately pines on the house’s ground. They giggled as the pinecones caught fire, making popping sounds. I relished their laughing as it echoed the sounds of children from the past.

This would be my last Christmas, according to my doctor. What did he know? He was as old as me, but I feared he was correct. As the morning wore on and my family gathered to celebrate the holiday, I looked forward to the chaos of children and wallpaper.

I wasn’t disappointed. While my gifts of books and music and fountain pens sat neatly stacked on the table as always. Children played with boxes and wrapping paper scattered across the rug. We laughed, we had dinner, and soon they were traveling home.

I reached for my newest fountain pen and wrote down the events of the day and my thoughts for each of them and their lives ahead. I would leave instructions that this journal be wrapped and presented to my youngest great-grandchild, who would be the keeper of the journal.

All I asked was that they scatter the wrapping paper on the floor.

 Please visit Kenneth on his blog: http://kennethlawson.weebly.com
And on Vocal Media https://vocal.media/authors/kenneth-lawson

Images are free use and require no attribution. Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay. 

Welcome to Write the Story! Each month, Writers Unite! will offer a writing prompt for writers to create a story from and share with everyone. WU! wants to help our members and followers to generate more traffic to their platforms.  Please check out the authors’ blogs, websites, and Facebook pages and show them support. We would love to hear your thoughts about the stories and appreciate your support! 

Healing Powers

Lynn Miclea

Terri slowly walked into the woods, feeling the crisp coolness of the breeze against her skin. Tall pine trees surrounded her, and the rich woodsy scent filled the air. She took a deep breath, letting the freshness fill her lungs, and she slowly let it out. As she walked, her body began to relax.

She walked for a while, not paying attention to anything other than simply being present in the forest, surrounded by greenery and life. Feeling her spirits begin to lift, she began to feel lighter and freer. She wasn’t sure why she was drawn to the woods today, but it felt good to be there. A few things had been bugging her lately, and it was good to get away and simply be in nature.

She wished she could fix her difficult relationship with her boyfriend, but she didn’t think that was possible. He had been criticizing her a lot lately, and she had had enough. He would not change — he was who he was. It was time to let that relationship go. Especially since she had not been feeling well for the past month, and she did not want to deal with him on top of that.

If she could have one wish, it would be to heal people. Heal herself from whatever was making her not feel well, heal her best friend from cancer, and heal others she knew who had various illnesses. This whole world needing healing, and she wished she could do something to help. But that didn’t seem possible. At least for today she could enjoy the walk in the woods.

As her jumbled thoughts began to ease, she realized that the relationship with her boyfriend really needed to be over, and it would be a smart decision to officially end it. That decision made, a sense of freedom flowed through her. She was ready to move forward. But do what? She was not yet sure.

A strange noise fluttered through the air, interrupting her thoughts. What was that? Terri turned her head, trying to hear better. Murmurs, whispers, chanting, and beautiful notes, similar to the haunting sounds of an oboe, reached her.

The sounds grew louder as she walked forward. A few minutes later, she suddenly stopped. Twenty feet in front of her, strange, short, greenish creatures sat in a circle, and the sounds, now crystal clear, came from them.

A few moments later, the creatures grew silent and turned to her. Terri gasped and took a step back.

“No, please stay,” one of the creatures said. “We were expecting you.”

Terri’s eyes grew wide with fear. “What?”

“We have an important job for you.”

Terri stared at them. “I don’t understand.”

“We have a special gift for you. A power to give you.”

Her mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”

The creature stepped closer to her. “What has been your one dream you’ve had?” He paused, and when Terri did not answer, he continued. “You wanted to be able to heal people, right?”

Terri nodded, feeling numb and confused. How could he know that? But the creature was right. She always wanted to be able to heal people. It would be wonderful to be able to do that. But that was pure fantasy. It was impossible.

“We will give you that power.”

“What? No. That’s too much power to give me. I can’t …”

“Actually, all humans have that power to some extent, along with the potential for it to develop further, but it’s dormant in most people. It needs to be activated, and some people are more in touch with it than others. But it needs much more powerful activation to do what needs to be done. We will activate it and develop it in you.” His face crinkled in a semi-smile. “You were drawn here to us today for this reason. You have been chosen for this.”

“But … but … how …”

“You will discover how to do it as the situation arises. And as you start, the way of doing it will become clearer.” He raised his hands in the air. “Yes, yes, I can feel it in you. You are ready. Please. Come sit here.” He gestured toward a flat rock. “I will help you.”

Terri swallowed hard and stared at the short, greenish creature. Was this for real? Could she trust them?

“Yes,” he answered her thoughts. “You can trust us. And this is very real. We came here to help all of humanity. It is very much needed, now more than ever. And you are the right person to do this. I am sure of that.” He pointed to the rock again. “Please.”

Although a bit wary, Terri started feeling a little more comfortable, and something felt right about it all. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something made sense. She stepped closer to the flat rock and slowly sat down.

The creature moved closer. “I am Velo-Mur. We will not hurt you.” His right arm reached toward her. “Here. This is for you.”

Terri reached forward and took a small round object from him. Her eyes fell to the smooth, pale, purple crystal in her hand.

“That is amethyst,” Velo-Mur told her. “It will help you. It will support and augment everything you will be doing. Now just relax.”

The other greenish creatures stood up and surrounded the flat rock where she sat. As Terri looked around, the creatures started glowing, and a bright light emanated from them. Velo-Mur stepped closer and raised his hands toward her, as a brilliant light flowed from him, encircling her. The light enveloped her, and warmth radiated through her. Chanting and humming filled the air, and Terri closed her eyes, gently rocking, feeling completely at peace.

Soothing warmth flowed through her, saturating every part of her being. She began nodding off, floating in the comfortable warmth, inundated with light, brilliant colors, and soothing sounds.

She suddenly realized that quite a bit of time had passed, and she opened her eyes. A flood of confusion filled her. She was no longer in the forest. She was home in bed. Quickly sitting up, she looked around and glanced at the clock. It was now morning. Her room was as it had been earlier. Had it all been a dream? No — the clothes she had worn into the woods were lying on her chair, carefully placed there. It made no sense. She had a vague memory of walking back through the woods, but the memory was flimsy and hard to grasp.

Absently, her fingers rubbed a warm object in her hand. She glanced down. The amethyst — it was all real. More of the experience came back and flooded her mind. Multiple emotions rushed through her, and she swallowed hard. She could heal people. A lifelong dream was coming true. A strong sense of determination and focus overtook her. She now had a mission in life. A purpose. Something she believed in. She could help heal people. But she had no idea where or how to start.

But first she had one thing she needed to do. She had to break up with her boyfriend. Determined to do this, she made the phone call before she could change her mind. He did not pick up, and the call went to voice-mail. She left a clear message that it was over, that she did not want to see him again, and to not call her back. Then she hung up, feeling a bit rattled but relieved.

That done, she relaxed and smiled. Things were better already.

Terri sighed. One problem gone, but she still wasn’t feeling that well. It felt like a mild flu that just wasn’t going away. If she wasn’t feeling better soon, she would need to see a doctor.

***

In the afternoon, the doorbell rang, and Terri ran to the door. Glancing through the peephole, she saw her best friend, Alicia. After opening the door and hugging her friend, Terri’s new mission rushed to the forefront of her mind. Maybe this was her first chance to try it.

“Hey Terri,” Alicia said, holding out a book. “I just wanted to return the book I borrowed. It was great — thank you.”

“Alicia,” Terri said, taking the book. “How is the skin cancer on your arm? Is it healing?”

Her friend’s deep sigh was loud and clear. “It’s still there. In fact, it looks a little bigger to me. Look. I’m really worried.” Alicia held out her arm and showed the rough, scaly patch of red skin.

Terri hesitated and then looked into her friend’s eyes. “Can I try something? Please? Let’s sit on the couch for just a few minutes.”

Alicia shrugged. “Sure, okay.” She sat on the beige couch and looked at Terri expectantly.

Terri smiled, a bit unsure of what to do. “I want to try some healing on this. Is that okay with you?”

Alicia nodded right away. “Absolutely. Anything that can possibly help is good with me.” She held out her affected arm.

Terri rubbed the smooth amethyst crystal and placed it between them on the couch. Then she glanced at her friend’s arm and raised her hands. She chanted quietly. “I draw upon my healing powers and send powerful energy to heal this cancer and to heal anything in Alicia that needs healing. So be it.” She closed her eyes and felt a sudden powerful rush of energy through her body and through her hands. She sat there for a few minutes and then opened her eyes. Her own body was glowing and her hands were clearly radiating a brilliant light that enveloped her friend, with an intense focus on the lesion. The light then lessened and a soft glow surrounded both women.

Terri peered at the lesion on her friend’s arm and scrunched her forehead in confusion. “Does that seem smaller to you now?”

Alicia inspected her arm. Her eyes grew wide and she looked up. “It … does. Oh my god. And I have a doctor’s appointment later this week. I’ll see what he says.”

“Yes, and please let me know about it. I’d love to hear what he says.” Terri smiled at her friend. Alicia seemed to be glowing. Pale light was radiating from her. Was it simply an after-effect of the healing? Terri wasn’t sure.

After Alicia left, Terri realized she was not feeling as sick as she had before. Maybe the healing session helped her too. She hoped so. She was tired of feeling sick.

***

Later that week, Alicia called. “Terri, you won’t believe this.”

“What? Did you go to the doctor?”

“Yes. The doctor said the lesion is much smaller and it’s healing. He said it looks like it’s in remission. Whatever you did, it really helped.”

“That is wonderful — I’m so happy for you! And actually, I’m feeling better too. Remember when I told you I was feeling kind-of sick for a few weeks? I’m finally feeling better. I think the healing I did on you helped me too.”

Over the next few weeks, Terri tried healing sessions with multiple people she knew. Each time, she was astonished and amazed at the results. Bruises disappeared. Fever abated. Illnesses went away. Sores closed up and healed. One friend who had a lump in one breast later found that the lump had disappeared. A cousin who had a growth on an ovary later found that the growth was almost completely gone. Terri also noticed that with each healing session, the sensations of the energy flow seemed stronger and felt more intense. She also noticed that the people receiving the energy glowed after each session.

Thinking over the astonishing results she was finding, and feeling a combination of disbelief and amazement, she decided to celebrate and treat herself to her favorite chocolate pastry. She drove to the bakery and parked in the lot across the alley, her mouth watering in anticipation.

As she started crossing the alley to get to the bakery, movement to her left got her attention. A large black van, going much too fast, raced down the alley, heading directly towards her, now seconds away from hitting her. She gasped and froze, bracing for the impact. As she glanced through the windshield of the black van coming toward her, she saw a brief image of the driver staring at her — a strange, scaly, dark gray creature with red glowing eyes.

A powerful energy rushed through her, white light filled the alley, and the black van went airborne, flying over her head, skidded across the street beyond, and crashed into a utility pole.

Shocked and queasy, Terri crossed the street and tried to get a glimpse into the black van. Taking a few more steps closer, she saw the strange creature more clearly. Its scales shimmered, and the red eyes glared at her. Sparks seemed to shine in the creature’s malevolent eyes. A shiver ran down her spine as she watched it. The creature lifted a black metal tube which looked like a type of weapon, and her blood ran cold. As she gasped, a bright light flashed over the area.

She closed her eyes against the glare, and then opened them and looked at the creature again. Its scales now looked dull and the red eyes were dim. The body seemed to crumble and dissolve. A small rift opened up in the air, and the creature was sucked into it. The rift closed.

Terri swallowed hard, stumbled back across the street, and stood at the side of the alley, leaning against one wall. As she tried to catch her breath, a familiar voice filled her head. She was sure it was Velo-Mur. We are watching over you. We will protect you. And you have the power to protect yourself as well. Part of what happened here to protect you was your power, and part of it was us.

“Who was that?” she asked the air around her.

Velo-Mur’s voice answered in her mind. It was an evil entity. There are many of them, and they break through occasionally. When we feel the disruption in the energy field, we are called in to help. That entity is now dissolved and sent back to its realm. We are glad you are safe. Stay vigilant. You are more powerful than you realize.

Terri’s breathing was labored as she tried to make sense of what happened. An evil entity? Another realm? Disruption in energy? She shook her head. Nothing made sense.

Her mouth dry, she no longer wanted the chocolate pastry. She felt like she needed more answers and guidance, and she decided to go back to the woods. Maybe she would find Velo-Mur there, and maybe he could help her make more sense out of what was happening.

After driving to the woods and parking the car, she walked along the familiar trail. She took a deep breath of the fresh pine air, and she felt invigorated as she passed the tall trees. She quickened her steps, her shoes crunching over the freshly fallen leaves and pine needles covering the path. She hoped he was there and that she would get the answers she needed.

After a short distance, humming and chanting got her attention, and she slowed down as she approached the group. In a circle sat the same creatures, with Velo-Mur slowly dancing in the center. He suddenly stopped and turned to her.

His face broke into a wide smile. “You are here. It is good to see you.”

Terri felt her face flush. “I have a few questions …”

“Yes, I’m sure you do. Come. Sit.” He gestured toward the flat rock.

Terri sat on the rock and gazed at the greenish creature before her, his face filled with kindness. “I’m not quite sure what to even ask.”

Velo-Mur nodded. “Yes, you had an unexpected adventure today.”

Terri stared at him. “Yes. Who was that? Why is he here? Is he dangerous? I don’t want this if it’s dangerous.”

Velo-Mur paused a few moments, watching her, before he spoke. “Once you tap into stronger and varied energies and greater powers, you access other realms and dimensions. And that includes contact with evil entities. They do exist, and they occasionally come through. With your powers, you are now able to see them and send them back. You are strong. You can banish them, but it does take practice. I will be in touch and will oversee everything and help you. You are not alone.”

“Does that mean you see me and are with me at all times?”

He pursed his lips. “We are not specifically watching you, but we watch over you. We are tuned in to your energy, and we notice any disruption in the energy field around you, around humans, and around the planet. We know when something is wrong and when we are needed. We can feel it, and we tune in and help.”

“I’m not sure I want all this power or all this danger.”

“There is always both good and evil, and it is important that you do your part and help heal people. That will strengthen and amplify the good energies which will overpower the evil ones. I assure you, the evil entities do not often break through, and we catch them right away.”

“And if you don’t?”

He chuckled. “You can now help too. You are very powerful.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You will understand more and more. Hold onto that crystal. And trust. Believe in yourself. Your powers will continue to get stronger. And you will do much good in this world. Have you healed a few people?” He nodded as he continued. “Yes, I see that you have.”

“Yes. It is both amazing and shocking to me. How can I do that? And then the people seemed to glow. I don’t understand any of this.”

“Yes, everything is going well. This is good. The healing energy saturated their bodies, and those people are continuing to heal and get well, even after the actual healing session. My dear, please understand that you are healing people on multiple levels — physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. You are reaching deep into their mind, psyche, body, and spirit. You are healing their symptoms and also the source of their issues. You have excellent abilities and are able to heal better than we had hoped. This is all very good.” He nodded, seeming very pleased. “And as you heal people, your abilities will continue to develop and become even stronger.”

“But why do the people glow?”

He peered at her and gestured in the air. “The people you heal are glowing because as you heal them, they also develop the ability to heal others. You are awakening this power in them. And without even realizing it, the healing ability will spread exponentially as they heal others. It will eventually spread around the entire world.”

“But … I don’t know what I’m doing …”

“Ah, but you do. It is being awakened in you. And we will be guiding you along the way as well. This is very important for your entire world.”

“But I’m only one person …”

“You are so much more than you think. You have no idea how much you can do and how far this will reach.” Velo-Mur glanced back at the other creatures and then turned back to Terri. “And now I must leave here. We are needed on another planet. There are many worlds that need help, and we must go where we are needed. We wish you well on your journey.”

Terri felt apprehensive. “But I’m not ready. I don’t think what I do is enough.”

“We are grateful that you have stepped up to do this. And yes, what you do is more than enough, and it will continue to increase. You will see. And you will also help with banishing the evil entities from your world. You will understand all of this more and more. Just give it time.”

A bit distressed and uncomfortable, Terri simply nodded.

Velo-Mur smiled. “You will be fine. Don’t worry. We believe in you. And I will keep checking in with you. You’re not alone.” He started to walk away and then turned back to her. “We will envelop your world with a special glowing golden light. It will amplify what you and all the other healers will do. This golden light will be visible in various forms to all who look for it. It will be in sunsets, in rainbows, in flowers, in the leaves on trees, in the waves on the ocean, in dew drops on grass, in the feathers of birds, in the fur on animals.” He smiled and spread his arms out toward the area surrounding them. “This area has already been infused with this golden light. Look — you can see it here in the sparkle of the pine needles on this tree. We will spread it across the world. It will be everywhere, and people can see it if they look for it. It will be a reminder to everyone.”

Velo-Mur turned back to the other creatures. He waved his hands, and a bright glow emanated from him and created a sphere of brilliant light. The other creatures moved within the circle of light, and then they vanished with another flash of golden light.

Terri stared where the creatures had been. Doubts clouded her mind. Was she up for this? The healing seemed to be real, but it all seemed overwhelming and strange. She shook her head and slowly walked back down the path to her car.

As she walked, a loud sizzle filled the air around her, and a spark appeared. A rift seemed to open in the air, and a dark, scaly creature with red glowing eyes peered out. Instantly, a brilliant light flowed from her toward the creature, and the creature immediately shriveled up and was sucked back into the rift, which quickly closed.

Baffled, Terri gaped at the area for a few more moments. It was now quiet and still. She realized she did not panic, and she had somehow known exactly what to do. Some instinct had kicked in. A sense of competence flowed through her and a smile played on her lips.

Feeling more confident, she continued walking down the path. As she reached the parking area, she looked around, and then suddenly found herself back in her own living room.

She took a step back and drew in a quick breath. Tapping her pants pocket, she realized the amethyst crystal was still there. Maybe the time disparity or some type of teleportation was part of her new abilities. She had no idea. She would need to explore that further.

But where was her car? Was it left at the woods? Was it back home? An image of her car, parked in her garage, immediately came to her mind. She quickly rushed to the garage and saw that the car was indeed there. Baffled, she understood she still had a lot to discover and learn.

For now, she realized she had been feeling much better lately. Whatever illness or bug had been in her system, it seemed to be gone. She felt strong and healthy again, and that boosted her confidence.

Terri knew one thing for certain. She would do her part and help heal people as much as she could, wherever she could. It felt good to have direction and a purpose.

And hopefully, one day, she would again meet Velo-Mur and learn even more. He had said he would check in with her, and she looked forward to that.

But for now, she would simply trust and do her best. She glanced out the window and her eyes were drawn to the maple tree in the back yard. It seemed to glow with golden points of light.

Warmth surged through her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

—————————————–

Copyright © 2023 Lynn Miclea. All Rights Reserved.

Please visit Lynn’s blog and follow her at – https://lynnpuff.wordpress.com/
Please also visit Lynn’s website for more information on her books – https://www.lynnmiclea.com/
And please visit her Amazon author page at – https://www.amazon.com/Lynn-Miclea/e/B00SIA8AW4

Images are free use and require no attribution. Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay. 

Welcome to Write the Story! Each month, Writers Unite! will offer a writing prompt for writers to create a story from and share with everyone. WU! wants to help our members and followers to generate more traffic to their platforms.  Please check out the authors’ blogs, websites, and Facebook pages and show them support. We would love to hear your thoughts about the stories and appreciate your support! 

The Happiest Season

Calliope Njo

It had been a good week since I got here. It seemed to be nonstop for Grandma and me because of those cookies we baked. When it was time to divide them, Grandpa and I put up the tree.

It was artificial, but it didn’t matter. They had this big black and silver cat named Oscar. He had his tree on the left side of the fireplace, filled with toys and treats. The human tree was on the right. It wasn’t hard to tell which one was which.

Then, it was time to see the lighting of the town’s Christmas tree. A nice pyramid-shaped, dark teal pine tree covered with snow decorated with red and white poinsettias. It was a point of pride for everybody. A special tree was chosen every year, and it would be taken care of until the time came to chop it down.

We were about to sing the traditional Christmas Tree song, but someone came in on a motorcycle. At first, I thought it was Cheryl. She may be my sister, but that didn’t mean we acted alike either.

When the helmet came off, I realized it wasn’t her, but somebody else. The long bleached hair with black lipstick didn’t bring up any memories. What got my attention was someone handing her a chainsaw and she chopped down the tree. She put them in a pile in the middle of the walkway.

She turned off the chainsaw and held it out for someone to take. “Merry Christmas all you —” I blocked out the last part because I didn’t want to hear it. Not that it did any good. I could swear that the fabled little old lady in China heard it. That blonde started her motorcycle, revved the engine, and rode over the pieces of tree. It wouldn’t take long before the law caught up with her. While it wasn’t against the law to chop down the town tree, it meant something when an officer came to the house with a warning.

Be it fate or the song fit, I don’t know, but someone started singing that song from The Grinch. The one where everybody gathered around the spot where the tree used to stand. I’m not sure it made any difference, but to me it didn’t. That tree was destroyed.

Grandpa hung his head and shook it. He was one of the people appointed to help take care of it. He never said anything, but I bet he was excited when the time came.

Whoever that woman was had a lot of people to answer to, it wasn’t necessary. Even if she didn’t celebrate, it didn’t mean destroying the tree was OK.

The next morning, it was only me and Oscar. Grandma and Grandpa left to pick up everyone. The tree was still up and decorated family style, so it was perfect.

I grabbed a leash and harness and put it on Oscar. He seemed all right with it. As a matter of fact, he tried to pull me to the door. We left the house, and I made sure to lock it when we left.

As a rule, dogs and cats don’t mix. I saw the videos of dogs and cats being the best of buds, but I didn’t want to take any chances and stayed away from that end of the street.

It was only the day after, so that scene with that woman killed the vibe. That little bit of magic in the air disappeared.

Well, Oscar and I toured the block. He went up this tree and that tree. I think he was even chasing after squirrels and that made me laugh.

When we returned to the house, I kissed his head after taking off his leash. “Thank you, Oscar. I needed that, I think.”

He chirped at me before he disappeared somewhere down the hall. He came back a moment or two later with his stick. We played catch until they came home.

“Oh, look,” Cheryl said. “It’s an animal.”

I think the only reason she stopped there was because Grandma and Grandpa stepped in at that time. That was also the reason why I kept my mouth shut and helped Mom and Dad with their bags.

I heard something growl, and that was when I saw Oscar at the ready towards Cheryl. “Oscar,” I said.

He turned around, went up his tree, and swatted the stuffed bird a few times before he relaxed. Cheryl had something going on in her mind. I could tell as she concentrated on Oscar. I didn’t want to tell her to be careful. She needed to learn on her own.

He swatted her face. No bloodlines or scratches. Yet, she screamed bloody murder and cried because he was mean.

I found Oscar in his tree and reached into scratch. “Good boy. Just be careful. I don’t want you to end up in the pound.”

Some people say cats don’t smile, but he did as he purred.

To escape Cheryl, I went into the kitchen to help Mom and Grandma. It was a little early yet, so we had hot cocoa with those big marshmallows and cookies. Grandma only baked cookies once a year, and this was it. I had to get some while I could.

It was a very long and silent time. I think the noisiest thing was that Grandfather clock in the corner.

I shouldn’t be the only one to start a conversation. Cheryl could start one as well. After all, she knew all the important gossip. I followed everybody to the kitchen again to help Grandma. Things were going great.

“Oh good,” Cheryl said. “It’s about time the kitchen slaves started working. I’m going to die of starvation if I’m not fed. It would be all your fault.”

I was about to yell at her when I saw her bump into Grandpa. Oh boy, did he look pissed. Mouth tight and a face as red as those holly berries.

I went back into the kitchen. There had to be something that was missed. They yelled at each other while I checked under each lid and opened the oven several times.

When the yelling stopped, the three of us stuck our heads out to look at what happened. Dad wasn’t in the room, but Grandpa sat back down again in his chair. I sort of thought that maybe Oscar stayed in his tree. He wasn’t a dumb cat.

It seemed to be about a forever later, Dad returned and slammed the door. He stood above Cheryl and looked down at her.

“I don’t have time for this. I had better places to be. I—”

“—That’s enough,” Dad said.

I cleared my throat to help swallow any words that might have come up. “For tonight’s dinner, we are having creamed chicken and vegetable soup with homemade biscuits, salad, and apple pie for dessert.”

I laughed as Dad and Grandpa tried to beat each other to the faucet.

“Boys,” Grandma said. “We do have a bathroom.”

“I’m done,” they said at the same time.

I laughed and sat down at the table. Cheryl stayed in the front room with her legs and arms crossed. She would be the one to wake me up in the middle of the night because she was starving to death. If she didn’t eat real food, she would sue everybody and then die.

“Cheryl,” I said as I stood in the doorway. “Did you want to eat?” I had to try.

“I am going to starve to death because that food is not fit for me to eat. It’ll be your fault.”

I sat back down to eat my food. Mom and I cleared the table. When the dishes were done, I got the garbage. Sure enough, out came Oscar. Not sure why, but he sat right beside me.

Grandma came outside. “Are you OK?”

“Me? I’m used to this. The question is, are you?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been through worse in the critical care ward. She’ll wake up hungry tomorrow. I asked your Grandpa to put a chain around the doors of the refrigerator. She’ll learn her lesson. Come on, the pie’s waiting.” She waved towards the house, and we all came back.

After everybody finished their pie, Grandpa cleared his throat. “Your grandma and I bought tickets to a very special place for everybody. We leave by train at seven-thirty tomorrow morning. The train will take four and a half hours to get there. Snacks and nonalcoholic beverages are available to us for free. No meals. Beds will be available if anyone wants to nap.”

Cheryl yawned. “I’m too busy.”

Grandpa looked at her before he returned his gaze to us. “The last stop will be our final destination. A horse-driven sleigh will pick us up and take us on a twenty to thirty-minute ride. So it should be about lunchtime by the time we get there. Now we did this because your grandma and I are getting older. We would like to remember these special moments until we can’t anymore.”

Cheryl stood in front of Grandpa and poked him in the chest. “The only special place would be the Bahamas. Just give me money. It’s the only place for the most special people to go like me.”

Dad’s jaw got tighter every time Cheryl opened her mouth. Couldn’t she give this a chance? It was Christmas. A time for peace. A time for joy.

Grandpa looked at Cheryl. “That’s enough. The world doesn’t revolve around you. We would like to do something special. So sit there and keep your trap shut, or so help me God, you will have to live with a guilt trip until it’s your turn.”

I didn’t have to see anyone else. I could tell everybody looked at Cheryl at the same time. I smiled in my head when she sank in her chair and crossed her arms.

“I suggest everybody pack tonight,” Grandma said. “If anyone needs anything, chances are I’ve got it. All you need to do is ask. So, at six-thirty tomorrow morning, we leave here. Don’t make your Grandpa have to carry you.”

I couldn’t help it, but I laughed. Mom looked at me as I shrugged and mouthed an apology. She nodded, and both of us laughed.

Sure enough, as soon as everybody started getting ready for bed, Cheryl banged on my door. I ignored her, but she didn’t get the hint until Grandpa. He must’ve done something because the next thing I heard was screaming. The note was too high for it to be Grandpa.

After that, it wasn’t hard getting to sleep. Somewhere in between bathroom trips, Oscar found his way into my room and on top of me. I had no idea a motor could sound so peaceful.

Now, the rest of us found our way into the car without too much of an issue. Everybody that was except Cheryl. I had no idea where Grandpa got his strength or energy from, but he carried her to the car.

“Anything else?” Grandpa asked as he got into her space.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Good. We’ll go now, your majesty. I had soldiers who behaved better than you. I suggest you straighten up, or this trip could get worse very soon.” He closed the door.

I didn’t want to ask that question, afraid he might growl at me.

“Let’s see. We were in a small village on the outskirts of a hill the army swore it needed.”

I sat back and listened. It wasn’t often that Grandpa told stories, so I thought of this as a treat.

He finished when we reached the train station. Mom and I looked at each other and talked about where to be in order to get Cheryl out. That was when Dad and Grandma pushed us aside and pointed to the back.

I had no idea what that meant until I saw them pick up Cheryl and move her out of the car.

“Oh, we’re so sorry your majesty,” Dad said. “We have reached our destination. You royal pain.” He somehow turned her around and put both hands on either side of her face. “This attitude will stop. I will spank you. I don’t care who’s watching. If you want to call the cops, be my guest. Remember to tell Sargent Holstetter he still owes me lunch.”

We got the bags out of the back by then, and they lined up against the bumper. Cheryl grabbed one of mine and stomped her way to the curb.

This was going to be a very long trip. I applauded Grandma and Grandpa for doing this. Things like this couldn’t be cheap. This was going to sound awful, but couldn’t we have left Cheryl behind? On second thought, they loved their house.

I grabbed a bag and walked toward the sidewalk. A black man pushed a big cart and came towards us. “Good morning, folks. My name is Reggie, and I am here to pick up your luggage to stow it on the train. When we reach our destination, your bags will be ready and waiting for you. I hope you enjoy your trip.” He bowed. “Season’s Greetings and a Happy New Year to all.” He backed up, still bowed. He didn’t fall over. I had to try that once.

I followed everybody to the middle car and walked up the ramp. It was down the hall and to the right and the middle door on the right. Somehow they arranged for Cheryl to get her space, but that was in the seated area.

“You have a choice,” Grandpa said. “You can either behave and stay in this room with us, or you can sit down out there if you choose to continue with this behavior. Make up your mind.” He went inside the room and closed the door behind him.

As soon as Cheryl opened her mouth, we followed him and left her out there. She came in after us and slammed the door. She sat down in the far corner by the window.

“Nobody bother me. I need my special sleep since I was so rudely interrupted. When I look awful, it’ll be all your fault.”

To think. I’m five years younger than she is. Yet, she was the one that behaved like she was younger.

The train started moving, and I needed space. I had it. “I’ll be back in a little bit. This train didn’t seem too long, so it shouldn’t take me long to get back. I just need a little room.” I hoped everybody understood.

“You know? That sounds like a good idea.” Grandma, Mom, and Grandpa stood from the bench. That left Dad, but he fell asleep along with Cheryl.

So, all of us left the room and walked up and down the hallway. I grabbed water along the way and drank that. There was a coffee station, and I grabbed coffee for everyone. All of us made it back with a drink in hand.

 We sat down and I spent the time looking out the window. There was a white blanket that covered the ground. Mounds of snow covered the branches. I glanced at everyone, and they fell asleep.

The Christmas cheer with love and hope left when that woman demolished the tree. There was nothing left in me. Cheryl didn’t help either. I couldn’t blame her for everyone, although I could blame her for a portion of it.

They announced we would be coming up to our final destination, Christmas Village. I hoped something would bring me out of this… whatever you wanna call it.

Everybody woke up at the same time and formed a sort of line to the toilet. When everybody finished, Mom stood. “It’s time to go from Mom to Mother. She passed the age that action and consequence would mean anything. I had hoped that if she came along, she would be able to enjoy everything and everyone. Well. That didn’t work. So now I gotta be tough and let her have it. So to speak,” I nodded, grabbed everything I came with, and went to the entrance doors.

The doors weren’t hard to find. All one had to do was follow the arrows. Of course, when we got there, people were in front of us.

A moment or two later, I heard stomping behind me. I looked, and my guess was right. Did she have to ruin everybody else’s time? Good grief.

When the train came to a complete stop, the doors opened. They announced that all bags would be waiting in the baggage room and look for the tags.

Dad and Grandpa said they would take care of it. I waited there with Grandma. I could tell Mom and Cheryl were coming. All I had to do was listen to the yelling.

Dad and Grandpa came out with everybody’s bags. I made a beeline to mine before Cheryl got them. No telling what she would do with them.

Once everybody got their bags, we went outside to wait for transportation. Grandpa went up to the man in the long red coat and showed him or her a paper. It didn’t take long before a horse-drawn sleigh came to pick us up. It was gorgeous.

Shiny, big horses with hairy feet stood still while we climbed up and sat down. “Good morning. I’m Dean. Betsy, Marty, and I will take you to your destination. Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

It was a sort of nice ride. Yeah, it was bumpy, but I rode in a horse-drawn sleigh. I don’t even know how long it took. I was enjoying the scenery too much.

“All right, folks,” Dean said. “We’re here.” He secured the sleigh and climbed down from his seat. He opened up the back where our baggage was while we got off.

Once we were taken care of, he rode away. Another man ran outside through a set of double doors for the bags. Once all of the bags were inside, the door closed. We came inside to a long line. It seemed to take a while to get to the registration desk.

Once we did, it was a beautiful sight. A large log cabin with decorated Christmas trees in every corner. I had no idea how tall they were, They looked at least ten feet tall and about that big around.

After getting the key, we went up to our cabin. I laughed at the name on the door: Vixen. We made it inside, and our bags right after us.

Our bags were lined up by the staircase. The man nodded and left.

“Now that everybody is here,” Grandpa said, “I’d like to wish everybody a warm and cozy Merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy yourself. Go ahead and put your stuff away. Then we’ll go and find something to eat.”

I didn’t need to look at Cheryl. She stood across from me with her arms crossed over her chest and foot tapping. Mom leaned down next to her for a moment and then straightened back up.

“That’s not fair. How come I can’t do what I want to do?” She talked so loud I could’ve sworn an icicle broke. “I had to come along on—”

Mom leaned down. “—All right. If you want to go, go ahead. Keep in mind what I told you earlier.”

“You can’t be serious. That is so totally not fair. You’re supporting what’s her name over there but not me. The best and most smartest and beautifulest daughter that you have.”

I groaned and walked up the stairs to find a room. I couldn’t say shut the fuck up, stupid, because, after all, that’s inappropriate language. The other thing was that it would’ve been a waste of breath.

I saw Grandma in one room talking to Grandpa. Dad stood in front of the window in another. I took the one text to that one, which left Christy with the one on the end.

I put my suitcase in the closet and took the key. With Christy, there was no such thing as too secure.

We walked down to the first building and found the eatery. I looked at the menu and knew I was in trouble. It stunk. Not because the food would be awful, but because they were all my favorites. I decided on the chicken chili.

We put our order in and waited until we got our food. It didn’t take too long to get our food, but one wouldn’t know that by listening to Cheryl. She got louder the more we ignored her. She stopped when we started eating, and nobody said anything to her.

As a treat during the festive time of year, everybody got Christmas pudding if you ordered a meal. Cheryl reached across and stole mine. “What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is mine. I am the best the universe has ever seen because that’s just who I am.”

I reached the end of my patience. “I think I’m going to take this opportunity and walk around a little. I’ll meet everybody in the cabin for dinner.” I stood up and tried to smile.

Once I got outside, I tried to find a quiet space and stood there for a moment. I made sure nobody was around me, and I screamed as loud and as long as I could. I took a deep breath in and out until I felt a little calmer.

I stepped out, and a sign stood in front of me: Christmas tree lot. End-of-season clearance prices are on the label. I followed the signs and walked right onto it. There weren’t a lot of trees left but more than I expected.

“Oh, little human,” a voice said.

I stopped and looked around. Nobody else was there. Only me, even then, why would someone call me little human?

“Little human, if there is a tree you are searching for, simply follow the setting sun, and it will bring to light the tree you would be searching for.”

There it was again. What the….

“Turn around and look straight ahead.”

I gulped and did that. A huge Christmas tree stood in front of me. “Uhm. Yeah?”

It blinked. “There you are. Did you find it yet?”

“No.”

“Search for the setting sun, and you will see, the tree that was lost. Simply look at the top. You will find it.”

“Uh. But.” It became a normal tree again when other people came into view.

Setting sun? Where in the blue blazes would I find the setting sun? What was it that Grandpa said? Up in the east down in the west. OK, which way was west?

I looked at the tops of the trees, and that was when I found it. A perfect replica with pine cones as well. I looked in the tree to search for any creatures, and I didn’t see any. I looked at the tag, and it was doable. The only thing was they charged extra for shipping.

A guy in a thick flannel shirt came around and asked if I needed help. Grandpa had to be feeling awful since the tree massacre. I wouldn’t be able to spend my Christmas money after this, but it didn’t matter. I asked how much it would cost to take it up to the cabin.

He told me that wasn’t considered delivery since it was only up the hill. I made arrangements for that while I hoped things would work out. The only thing left would be the ornaments.

Somebody had to be listening to me because I went into the gift shop to look for greeting cards. There were candy canes and wooden ornaments on sale. Everything was there as if by magic.

With everything in my bag, I went back up the hill. Either people were sleeping or out walking around somewhere. As soon as I put things down, the doorbell rang. I let the man in and told him where to put it. There seemed to be a designated spot in the front room. A sort of circle in the middle.

He set up the watering system and left the house. After that, I hung the decorations. Right after I hung the last reindeer, everybody came in.

We sang O Christmas Tree and a few more songs. To finish it off, I wanted to sing my favorite song, Little Drummer Boy. Cheryl screamed every word and a few more unintelligible words. I was done. I ignored her and kept singing.

The smile on Grandpa’s face would be something I would never forget.

Later that night, there was a note on my closet door. “Give me the receipts for that I had no idea how that came to be a thing in the front room. Merry Christmas, Little Love Bug.”

Please visit Calliope on her blog: https://calliopenjosstories.home.blog/

Images are free use and require no attribution. Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay. 

Welcome to Write the Story! Each month, Writers Unite! will offer a writing prompt for writers to create a story from and share with everyone. WU! wants to help our members and followers to generate more traffic to their platforms.  Please check out the authors’ blogs, websites, and Facebook pages and show them support. We would love to hear your thoughts about the stories and appreciate your support! 

The Little Pine Tree

A Christmas Tree Story

Laura Brady DePace

The little pine tree sat on the edge of the Christmas tree field. It looked down on rows and rows of perfect trees of many types: blue spruce, with pointy, stabby needles; balsam fir with their citrusy scent; white spruce, tall and perfectly shaped; even some pines, not that different from itself. Many of the other trees were much bigger than the little pine tree, but it didn’t mind. Not every house could hold a twenty-foot tree. It knew that somewhere there was a perfect little house where it would be just the right size. A perfect little house just waiting for a perfect little pine tree for Christmas.

Maybe, it thought. Maybe, this will be my year. Maybe this year, a family will pick me! Maybe they’ll see how beautiful I am, how green and fragrant my branches are, how my pinecones sparkle. My pinecones make me special! How many of the trees here can boast pinecones? Not many, I can tell you!

And there are other things that make me special, too! I have a hidden treasure: that tiny bird’s nest that the Pine Warblers made last Spring. They even used some of my pine needles to make it sturdy and soft. How many trees can boast a bird’s nest? That’s good luck! I’m a lucky tree!

Maybe they’ll tie me onto the roof of their car, safe and tight, so I won’t slide off. What an exciting ride that will be! Then, when we get to their house, they will carefully take me off of the roof and bring me inside. They’ll put me in a stand, so I can soar tall and beautiful, and they’ll keep me watered so I’ll stay healthy and green for a long time, all through the holiday season. 

Once I’m set up, they’ll decorate me! Beautiful lights will adorn my limbs, flashing and racing in brilliant, deep colors of blue and red and green and yellow. Then they’ll add the ornaments: gold and silver, red and blue, shining white. And as they hang the ornaments, they’ll talk about them, and tell their stories.

“Remember this one? We got this one on that trip to Yellowstone National Park. We saw bison just like the ones on this ornament! That was exciting!”

“Aww, look at this one! Baby’s First Christmas! You were so cute!”

“This one was one of Grandma’s. My sisters and I fought over who got which one; I lucked out with the hedgehog, he’s the cutest!”

“I made this one. Glued on every single tiny pearl, one by one. I got glitter everywhere, making it sparkle inside the little window! We used to make them every year.”

“You made this one in first grade. Look how cute you were!”

They’ll play Christmas Carols: Jingle Bells, Silent Night, Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, and my favorite, O Christmas Tree. It’s my favorite, because it’s all about me!

They’ll make popcorn, and the smell of the popcorn will mix with my lovely pine perfume, and the whole house will smell wonderful. Maybe they’ll string some popcorn, or some cranberries, to hang on me.

And when they’re all finished decorating me, they’ll stand back and admire me. They’ll say, “This is the most beautiful tree we’ve ever had!”

The little pine tree waited patiently for its chance. It watched, day after day, as families came to walk among the trees. Red-cheeked children, smiling Mamas and Papas, old people holding hands. Each time they approached, the little pine tree got excited, anticipation building within it. It would sway in the breeze, waving its lovely branches, trying to catch someone’s eye. But they walked on by. Each time a family walked away, the little pine tree would droop in disappointment. Couldn’t they see how perfect it was?

Days went by. The crowds of people got smaller. Many of the little pine tree’s companion trees were gone, their absence marked by fresh stumps. And still it waited, waited for a family of its own.

The workers walked through the field, noting the trees that had been bought and taken home.

“Pretty good year,” one said to the other. “Lots of trees sold. We’ll have to plant a bumper crop next year to replace them.”

“Crowds are slowing down,” the other said. “It’s almost Christmas. I don’t think we’re gonna sell a whole lot more. Most people who want a tree have already come.”

Hearing this, the little pine tree drooped despondently. Another year missed! 

Why does no one want me? it wondered. I’m so beautiful! Why can’t they see that?

The day got cold and stormy. Snow began to fall, tiny specks at first, then building into huge, fluffy snowflakes. The snow coated the little pine tree’s branches, a warm blanket of white.

I might as well just go to sleep, it thought. Nothing else to do. Another year gone. Nothing for it but to dream of next year. It sighed, shaking its branches.

A pair of sparrows slipped in between its boughs, snuggling down together, seeking shelter from the storm. The little pine tree welcomed them. It was nice to have company. It was nice to feel appreciated. At least the little birds love me, it thought.

The next morning dawned, cold and sparkling under a new blanket of snow. The little pine tree was frosted with a glistening coat of fresh snow. The sun shone brightly, casting rainbow sparkles from the icy crystals. The little pine tree felt so beautiful, decorated by the snow. Well, it thought, Mother Nature decorated me. She sees how beautiful I am. The little pine tree tried to take comfort from that. But it was still disappointed that no one had chosen it for their Christmas tree. It dozed under the snow.

Suddenly, it felt a tug on one of its branches. 

“What about this one?” a woman asked.

“Maybe,” a man answered. “It’s kind of hard to see, with all the snow.”

Waking up, the little pine tree realized that a family had approached! Mama, Papa, a boy, a girl. And a dog, sniffing busily. The little pine tree stood up taller, shaking its branches free of snow. 

“Oh!” the man laughed. “That’s better! Now I can really see the tree.”

The children circled the tree. They looked up at it from every angle. The boy dropped down into the snow to examine its base.

“It’s so pretty!” the little girl squealed. “And look! It’s got pine cones! It’s already decorated!” She laughed a happy laugh.

The boy peered intently into the interior of the little pine tree. “Hey! There’s a bird’s nest, too!”

“This one!” the little girl shouted. “I want this one! I like the pine cones!”

“Yeah!” the little boy agreed. “It’s perfect! None of the other trees have a bird’s nest!”

Mama and Papa exchanged a look and a smile.

“Perfect!” she pronounced.

“Done!” he stated.

The little pine tree was filled with joy. Finally! It was finally going to be a family’s Christmas tree.

In no time at all, Papa had the little pine tree cut down and tied to the roof of the car. The little pine tree held on tight to its bird’s nest and its pine cones, the things that made it so special.

Soon the little pine tree was standing tall in the family’s living room. It did its best to help Papa string the lights on its branches. Then the decorating began. Just as the little pine tree had imagined.

“Aww! Baby’s First Christmas! Let’s find a place where they can both hang next to each other.”

“Remember this? We got this one when we went to Disneyland.”

“Here’s the one you made in First Grade, Heather. Where do you want to hang it?”

“Didn’t Dylan make one in First Grade, too? Yes, here it is! Hang yours up, Dylan.”

“This was your grandmother’s. Find a nice, high spot for it.”

The decorating went on all evening. Just when they thought they were finished, they would find another special ornament that just had to go on the tree. Finally, they were satisfied.

“I don’t think there’s room for one more ornament,” Mama laughed.

The family stood back, arm in arm, to admire the beautiful Christmas tree.

“It looks great!” Dylan stated.

“It’s the most beautiful tree we’ve ever had!” whispered Heather in awe.

“It sure is,” Mama and Papa agreed.

The little pine tree sighed in contentment, basking in the love and beauty of being – finally – a special family’s perfect Christmas tree.

Please visit Laura on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laura.depace.967

Images are free use and require no attribution. Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay. 

Welcome to Write the Story! Each month, Writers Unite! will offer a writing prompt for writers to create a story from and share with everyone. WU! wants to help our members and followers to generate more traffic to their platforms.  Please check out the authors’ blogs, websites, and Facebook pages and show them support. We would love to hear your thoughts about the stories and appreciate your support! 

The Office Christmas Party

Marian Wood 

The party

This was it, another year and another rubbish party.  Nursing my head as I staggered out of another crowded bar, I could feel every aching bone in my body.   Hearing Lucy shout my name as she is running for a taxi, I wished for a helicopter to land right where I am and transport me to anywhere but here.  Nice peaceful desert Island would be great, anywhere but the noise of the busy London suburbs.

Climbing into the taxi, I watch as Lucy pulls a bottle out of her suspiciously small handbag.  How had my friend suddenly become ‘Mary Poppins?’ If she starts singing in a moment I won’t be surprised.  My head is spinning as she passes me, what looks like Champagne.  Pushing it away I vowed that next year I’m not attending the office Christmas party.  I attend every year and some of the stories and scandals around the office afterwards can be shocking.  I guess that is what happens when you put about fifty men and women on a drunken pub crawl together.  At least by going I witness some of what goes on, though this year I can’t remember much.

Why is it so easy to have just another drink?  Just one more Harriet, just one more.  Next time there wont be one more.  Next time I’m sticking to Coca Cola.  Sitting kneeling at the white porcelain god all night is not fun and tonight will be the last time.

The next morning

Waking up, I know its Saturday.  Somehow, I rolled myself out of bed and started to venture downstairs.  The Christmas tree lights welcome me as I reach the bottom and Rex the dog comes bounding up to me. I could hear the radio playing Christmas music, surely Lucy was still asleep. She had finished the drink last night, and we had staggered into the flat happily giggling together.

As I walked through the kitchen archway I could see that Lucy was no longer happy.  She was sat at the breakfast bar, phone in her hand with tears rolling down her red, now puffy face.  Seeing me she cried harder and then passed me her phone. I could feel myself going cold, Lucy was my friend and now what I was seeing didn’t make sense to me. Yes stay away from the office Christmas party and all of its influences.

Lucy and Tom have been together for about two years and they are happy together, I thought.  Why am I now looking at a photo of me snogging Tom?  I’ve never been attracted to him like that, and why can I not remember?  I walk over to the kettle and flick it on.  I need tea, as I feel my pocket vibrate I expect to see the same photo but I’m more shocked by the incoming message.

James

Working in a busy newsroom there is a lot of office banter.  We are all like family and generally friends.  For months now I’ve wondered about James. Tall and handsome and incredibly clever. I’ve tried to make conversation but he has never been interested.  Todays message made me swear loudly, making Lucy stop sobbing for a few seconds.  I rarely swear but wow, what happened last night?

Grabbing Lucy’s phone, I had another look at the photo.  It then dawned on me what had happened. As I sipped my tea, memories of the night came flooding back.  Lucy’s photo had been photo shopped, this was two pictures cut and made into one. Who though would be so cruel to Lucy? Who wanted to split her and Tom? And who wanted to wreck our friendship.

I could see that Lucy still remembered nothing of last night, so I passed her my phone.

Messages

‘Hey Harri, nice fun night under the pinecones, can I see you? can we talk today?’

Lucy looked at me, stunned, she knew I liked James, and had for a while.

“Harri what is going on? James is messaging you and you kissed Tom.”

“No, someone has photographed me and James and you and Tom, then photo-shopped it to make it look like me and Tom.  Who might want to split you two up?”

“The curse of the drunken Christmas party, there is only one person.”

As Lucy’s phone bleeped we knew it was another photo – this time forwarded from Tom of Lucy kissing James.

“James and Tom talk, don’t they?”

“Yes, why?”

“Let’s all meet up the four of us.  Not great for a first date but this needs discussing and our office photo shopper is in for a shock”.

Another party

New year’s eve and another party, this time I was going to enjoy it and remember the evening. Camera phones were out in force as we set out to create a scandal of Ted the photoshop expert.  It had evolved that he liked Lucy and was jealous of her relationship with Tom.  As Tom proposed that night, Ted could see that his plans had not worked. James happily had his arm around me, maybe 2024 will be a better year.

A few days later, Ted was the talk of the office as photos had appeared of him in his red Rudolf Christmas boxers only. Apparently so drunk at the party that he had paraded around without his trousers. He denied this profusely, but many didn’t believe him.  Dangers of playing cruel tricks at the office Christmas party. Thankfully though Lucy and Tom are fine, me and James are great, and all Ted has suffered was a red face.

Please visit Marian on her blog: https://justmuddlingthroughlife.co.uk

Images are free use and require no attribution. Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay. 

Welcome to Write the Story! Each month, Writers Unite! will offer a writing prompt for writers to create a story from and share with everyone. WU! wants to help our members and followers to generate more traffic to their platforms.  Please check out the authors’ blogs, websites, and Facebook pages and show them support. We would love to hear your thoughts about the stories and appreciate your support! 

SNICKERDOODLE – EMERALD POODLE

AKA

The Great Christmas Cookie Caper

Cheryl Ann Guido

Once upon a time in a not too distant future’s past, a tiny country named Snickerdoodlesberg began their annual celebration of the coming of Christmas. Nestled high in the mountains of Austria, this country had only three hundred and thirty-two residents, soon to be three hundred and thirty-three. But that is another story.

Prior to World War I, Snickerdoodlesberg became their own country when a young man who should have been a prince and who would otherwise have been King upon his father’s death, declared them separated from Austria and made himself King, albeit only in this remote little section of the Alpines. He moved the royal palace to a grand chalet atop the highest mountain and made good on his pledge to continue the old traditions and ways.

Our story begins on the first of the twelve days of Christmas. The air was chilled with a gentle wind. White sparkling snow covered the ground. The native pine trees stood tall, their fragrant pine cones releasing a holiday scent throughout the area. Trimmed in garlands of freshly fallen snow, Snickerdoodlesberg presented a picture post card fairytale haven, untouched by the harsh reality of the world around them.

“Isn’t she magnificent!” It was a statement not a question.

Candy Cane rolled her eyes. “Yeah, she’s really pretty but what I don’t get is why is she dressed like that? She looks like one of them old toilet paper dolls all gussied up for Christmas.

“My dear, our little country celebrates the coming of the Yule Maid on this day every year. It is a tradition we have observed for centuries.”

“Hmm.” Candy cocked her head. She had never heard of any Yule Maid tradition. Then again, this remote little country probably had all sorts of quaint rituals and celebrations that nobody else even knew existed. “I get traditions and all that but why Lana? I mean, she’s a … .” Candy thought better of finishing that sentence the way she intended. “A-a really fun lovin’ girl who loves her … uh … fun.” Candy’s eyes shifted from left to right. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that either.

“Exactly. That is precisely why I chose her. When I saw her picture in the catalogue, I knew right away that she was our Yule Maid. She is absolutely perfect and how can anyone resist that gorgeous smile.”

Candy wrinkled her nose and grunted. What the heck did this old dude think pictures in that escort catalogue were for? Could he really be that naive to believe that all the girls in that book only worked as fashion models?

Her eyes roamed up and down the body of the man next to her. She estimated his age to be somewhere in his early sixties. With a tall trim form that he carried like a born aristocrat, he exuded a charismatic aura almost impossible to resist. Impeccably dressed in a black tuxedo, his white ascot sported a huge emerald tie pin shaped into a poodle set into pure gold in the center of the knot. What a rock! But a poodle? Really?

The fact that his hairline only partially receded without giving way to baldness impressed her. Then again, he was a king and had money, lots of it so hair treatments were not out of the question.

That king thing also seemed weird. Austria had not had a monarchy since World War I or so she had been told. Yet, in this isolated Tirolian country somewhere in the frigid mountain wilderness of nowhere Austria, he presided over the little nation of Snickerdoodlesberg as their resident royal. Since her arrival, she had witnessed town folk kneel, kiss his ring and always address him as “Your Majesty.” So, when is Austria not Austria? When it’s Snickerdoodlesberg. She laughed at her clever joke. Still, even she knew that a country within another country was highly unusual.

A young woman made her way over to Candy and the king. She carried a tray filled with the most delicious smelling cookies.

“Snickerdoodle, Your Majesty?” Her lips opened in a toothy grin.

The king chose a cinnamon encrusted treat. “Yes. Thank you. They smell delicious.”

“Snickerdoodle?” The woman pushed the tray in Candy’s direction.

Candy sighed then wrinkled her nose. “No thanks. I’m watchin’ my weight.”

The king glared at her. Candy bit her lip. Her refusal had insulted him. Apparently, declining to eat offered Snickerdoodles here in Snickerdoodlesberg was unacceptable. “On second thought, don’t mind if I do.” She snatched one from the tray and simply held it in her gloved hand. The king’s icy stare remained and Candy realized what else was required. She took a bite. “Delicious! Thank you.”

The young woman curtsied and moved on. Candy side-glanced at the king and exhaled a sigh of relief as she noted that his pleasant expression had returned. “Really good cookies, Your Kingliness. Really tasty.”

“Of course they are. We are known throughout Austria for our Snickerdoodles.”

Candy faked a smile then turned her head, eyes rolling. Apparently, they took their Snickerdoodles seriously here in Snickerdoodlesberg.

Candy’s gaze shifted back to the sleigh carrying her best friend. Boy, oh boy, Lana really played up this Yule Maid gig. She chuckled as she watched Lana turn from left to right waiving at all the cheering people who lined the route to the chalet. The sleigh came to a stop in front of them and the king extended his hand to help Lana out. Head held high with an ear-to-ear grin pasted on her lips, Lana took his hand and poked out one dainty jewel encrusted six-inch stiletto high heel from beneath her voluminous green skirt. It made contact with the slippery surface and down Lana went, into the snow. Her bottom hit the ground with a dull thud.

The hands of the many observers flew to their cheeks with a collective gasp. Candy snorted unable to control her laughter. Poor Lana had always been the poster child for that old saying ‘you can dress her up but you can’t take her anywhere.’ The king’s eyes momentarily popped but he quickly recovered and helped Lana to her feet. Red cheeked, Lana smiled a sheepish grin and waived. “I’m okay everyone. Don’t worry, I’m not hurt.”

She smoothed out her dress then took the king’s arm. Candy watched her friend ascend the stone steps leading up to the entrance. Feeling a bit left out, she glanced around hoping someone would escort her in as well but no such luck. She exhaled and raised her head high. She looked like a million bucks tonight and she knew it. “I don’t need no damn escort,” she mumbled to herself. She turned and briefly waived to the crowd like a queen. Then, wearing a haughty half-smile, she began the long climb up the stairs to the entrance of the massive villa.

Once inside, Candy’s arrogant demeanor disappeared as she stared wide-eyed at the ornately decorated great hall. The other guests had already been shown to their tables and stood applauding Yule Maid Lana as she took her seat at the head table situated in front of the rest of the party-goers. The king, seated to her right, raised his champagne glass. He gently tapped the expensive crystal to get everyone’s attention.

“For centuries, on this twelfth night of December, the Yule Maid has ushered in the Christmas season. Let us raise our glasses as she begins our joyful celebrations.”

Lana rose to her feet. She held her champagne glass high. Standing in the rear of the room, Candy crossed her fingers behind her back. Lana had a short poem she had been given to recite and Candy hoped her friend would not flub it. She better not. She had driven Candy crazy practicing it over and over ever since they arrived in this strange little country.

“Let sleighbells jingle

While good folk mingle

‘Neath pine cone filled trees

In the cool winter breeze

Without further suspense

Let the celebrations begin … uh … commence”

Candy winced. Poor Lana. She had really tried. When informed she had to recite a poem, she had confided to Candy that she was sure she would mess it up because she never could memorize anything. Well, Candy thought, she did a lot better than I expected.

As Lana took her seat, the king whispered something into her ear. Lana’s eyebrows arched as the color drained from her cheeks and Candy noted that she looked terrified.

 “Your friend looks scared. My father must have told her Krampus will punish her for ruining that poem.”

Candy’s head snapped around. An incredibly handsome young man stood beside her. With perfectly coiffed sandy colored hair and wearing an obviously expensive black tuxedo with tails, the man’s broad grin only added to his boyish good looks. For once, she was speechless. That fact did not go unnoticed by the gentleman. He took Candy’s gloved hand in his. “Forgive me. I am Alexander Havensburg, son of King Johann Havensburg, Prince and heir to the royal throne of nothing.” He laughed then grew serious as he kissed the top of her hand.

Candy froze in shock at the gentile act then remembered her manners and curtsied. “Pleased to meet you, Your Highness.”

He pulled her to her feet. “Now-now, none of that Your Highness business. It is just a load of old-world crap anyway. Call me Alex.”

Candy smiled and nodded. “Alright. So, what is this Krampus thing you mentioned?”

 “Krampus is not a what, he is a who.” He tapped his finger against his cheek. “Well, actually I suppose he is a what given his grotesque appearance.”

 “But, why would the King threaten Lana with him?”

 “Krampus punishes misbehaving children, or so the legend goes. Centuries ago, the belief was that he was an assistant to Saint Nicholas. Saint Nick rewarded good children with delicious treats to eat while Krampus beat the bad children with a rod.”

Candy scrunched up her nose. “How awful.”

 “Indeed. However, his existence was meant to be a way to frighten children into behaving. Back in those days people believed in all sorts of creatures and spirits.”

 “But Lana isn’t a child.”

 “No, but she did mess up that last line so I guess in Father’s eyes, it put her on the naughty list. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it though. He probably only said it to make her uncomfortable.”

 “Oh good. I really didn’t want to have to watch her back for some creepy monster guy out to get her.”

Alex chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose you do. Besides, Krampus hasn’t been seen around here for a very long time.”

Candy squinted. “How long?”

 “Oh, about a year now.” Alex winked and broke into uproarious laughter.

Candy’s lips formed an uncertain smile. “I see.”

 “You have not told me your name.”

“It’s Cand …” Something made her stop. This guy was really gorgeous and such a gentleman. He made her heart skip a beat and that never happened. She needed to show him she had at least some class. “Ace.”

 “Ah Candace. What a lovely name. Do you have an assigned seat, Candace?”

Candy visually searched the room but every table appeared to be fully occupied. “Actually, I’m not sure.”

“Well then, let me escort you to my table. It’s that big one, up there.” He pointed to the banquet table where the king and Lana sat. “Shall we?” He extended his arm.

Lana’s lips opened into a wide grin. Apparently, she had an escort after all. She threaded her arm through his. “You bet your royal backside, Alex.”

Dinner proved to be overwhelming for Candy. She had never been served so many scrumptious dishes. Between the courses of roast duck, tender beef with hollandaise sauce, three kinds of sausages and baked salmon swimming in white wine sauce, all with sides of fresh vegetables and creamy potatoes, she felt like the seams of her gown would burst open at any second. After the meal, rich dark coffee appeared in steaming ornately decorated china cups and saucers.

Every so often, Candy glanced up the table at Lana. Poor Lana did not look as jolly as she had before and Candy worried something might be wrong.

“Snickerdoodle?”

The familiar sound of the young woman’s voice made Candy grimace. She turned and rolled her eyes. “You again?”

The woman smiled sweetly and offered the tray. “Snickerdoodle?”

Candy exhaled. Now that she knew the drill, she grabbed a cookie. “Thank you.”

With the creepy smile still pasted on her lips, the woman turned and offered the tray to the prince. “Snickerdoodle, Your Highness?”

His eyes twinkled in amusement. “Of course.”

The woman curtsied then moved on.

Alex broke the cookie up into pieces, tossed them onto his dirty plate then covered them with a napkin. Candy chuckled.

“You don’t like them either?

“Hate the damn things, actually. I have been smelling cinnamon my entire life. I was forced fed these obnoxious Christmas cookies almost every day as a child. Now that I am an adult, I will not eat them. I will only take a Snickerdoodle politely when offered because I must, then ditch it as soon as nobody is looking. When I am King, I will ban Snickerdoodles forever and my kingdom will no longer smell like a bakery.” He pounded his fist on the table then grinned.

“Alexander the Great Snickerdoodle Slayer, huh?”

“Indeed. I will also issue a proclamation that chocolate chip will replace Snickerdoodles as the National Cookie.”

“How scandalous!” Candy covered her mouth with her hand as her sides shook with silent laughter. She was liking this prince more and more every minute. “Do you mind if my Snickerdoodle joins yours?”

“Not at all, milady. Crumble away.”

Candy lifted the napkin, squeezed the cookie in her hand then dumped the crumbs onto the prince’s plate. Once again, she glanced at Lana who had turned quite pale. She did not look well at all. “Alex, please excuse me. My friend doesn’t look too good. I’m gonna take her back to the hotel.”

Alex rose to his feet. “I’ll come with you. The rest of the night will be boring anyway.”

***

The prince waited on a couch in another part of the suite while Candy tended to her friend. After changing out of the voluminous dress and into a pair of comfortable pajamas, Lana climbed into bed.

“Can I get you anything, Baby? Do you want a cup of tea or a glass of water?”

“No. I just want to sleep. You go have fun with the cute guy. I’ll be fine.”

“Sure thing, Honey.” But Lana did not hear her. She had already fallen fast asleep.

Candy sat down beside Alex in the sitting room. A fire roared in the marble fireplace sending cozy warmth throughout the room. The handsome prince put his arm around her pulling her close. She rested her head on his shoulder. I could really get used to this, she thought. But she knew this wonderful feeling could only be temporary for someone like her.

“Alex, as much as I am enjoying just sittin’ here and cuddling with you, I think I should get some rest myself. Tomorrow is our last day here and I wanna do some sightseeing. Your country really is beautiful.”

“Would you like to go on a sleigh ride tomorrow?” Alex squeezed her shoulders a bit tighter.

“That would be nice. Yes.”

“Splendid! I shall pick you up at noon. We can ride to town and have lunch at Café Von Strudel then ride along the Pine Tree Trail near the edge of the mountain.”

“Café Von Strudel? You’ve got to be kidding me. Are all the businesses in this country named after baked stuff?” Candy snorted through her nose.

Alex shrugged as his head bobbled from side to side. “Hey, I didn’t name it, I just eat there. Just to be clear they do have delicious …”

“Let me guess, strudel?”

“Yup.”

“Alright, noon tomorrow. Is it okay if Lana comes along? I hate to leave her alone.”

“Darling, I was so hoping to have you all to myself but, of course. You are a true friend to that young lady.”

Lana’s dark brown cheeks glowed ruby red. “I’m sorry. It’s just that she’s like a sister to me and she tends to get herself in all sorts of unintentional trouble and …”

“Say no more. A trio we shall be. See you tomorrow.”

***

“Candy, wake up.”  Candy turned over and buried her head under her pillow. “Candy, wake up!” Lana’s tone of voice sounded urgent. Candy grunted and raised up onto her elbows. “What time is it?”

“It’s a little after four.”

“Four am? You crazy, girl?”

“Candy, I’m in trouble.”

“What? How can you be in trouble? I’ve been with you all night.”

“Look.” She opened her hand and there in Lana’s dainty palm, the king’s emerald tie pin sparkled under the light of the bedside lamp.

“Oh damn, Lana. You stole it?”Lana’s eyes opened wide and she shook her head. “No-no! How could you even think that. We’re straight now. No more lifting stuff that doesn’t belong to us. You know that.”

“Well, how did you get it then?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. I went to hang up that awful Christmas tree dress and felt it in a hidden pocket. I didn’t put it there. I didn’t even know it had a hidden pocket.”

“Are you saying someone broke in here last night and planted the tie pin?”“Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m saying.”

Candy swung her legs across the bed and slipped her feet inside her slippers. She grabbed her coat out of the closet. “We gotta get this back to the king. C’mon, we’re goin’ to the chalet.”

“In our pajamas?”

“Yeah, no time to change. Just throw on your coat, his chalet is right down the road. We can walk there in a few minutes.”

Lana’s lips pursed into a pout. “I don’t know, Candy. I have a bad feeling about this.”

It took less than ten minutes to walk to the chalet. Both Lana and Candy were frozen and their feet felt like icicles. However, they did not have much time to lament over their icy state. The chalet glowed with lights shining from every room. Official looking people buzzed about hurrying in and out.

“What’s going on, Candy?”

“How should I know?” She frantically glanced around looking for someone to ask. A hand touched her shoulder. She spun around and stared directly into the baby blue eyes belonging to Prince Alex.

“What are you doing here, Candace?”

Candy crossed her fingers behind her back. “We … were woken up by a couple talking in the hallway. They said something big was going on at the chalet so we came to have a look.”

His eyes lowered taking note that she wore only slippers on her feet. “Have you no boots?”

“We didn’t bring any. We didn’t think we’d need them.” It was a lame excuse and she knew it. She winced inwardly hoping he bought her explanation. She hated playing the dumb chick, but it was the only excuse she could think of.

Alex nodded. “Well darling, something has happened. I have gone from heir to the royal throne of nothing to being King of the Snickerdoodles. My father is dead.”

Candy’s mouth dropped open. She turned toward Lana who turned her own head away from them both and whispered, “shit.”

Candy elbowed Lana then placed her hand on Alex’s arm. “I’m so sorry. How did it happen?”

“Someone killed him.”

Lana took a few steps back, turned her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut. “Double shit.”

Robbery was one thing but murder? This new development did present quite a problem.

“Did they catch the killer?”

“No Candace, they did not. My guess is that killing him was not part of the plan. He probably walked in on the burglary and tried to stop it. The robber then grabbed a poker from the fireplace and beat him over the head.”

“Like Krampus?”

“Why yes. I didn’t make that connection but it is a case of beating by rod, only this beating resulted in death. Anyway, I’m sorry but our date today is off.”

“No problem, honey. I understand completely. Didn’t think we’d be heading into the woods with sleighbells ringing after what happened to your father.”

“Ah well, win some, lose some.”

“Are you okay, Alex? You don’t sound too busted up about your dad being dead and all.”

The prince cleared his throat. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not. My father was a horrible man. I can say that now. He ruled our country with an iron fist and made the citizens pay way too much money in taxes. I’m not sorry to see him gone. I’m just pissed because this all falls into my lap now.”

“Well, you can always do what you said, give Snickerdoodlesberg back to Austria.”

“Yes. Anyway, you must excuse me. I see the Captain of Police over there gesturing for me to join him. I’m sure he has a lot of questions.”

“Okay Alex. No worries.” She gave him a quick hug. “Hang in there, honey.” The prince managed a half smile then walked away.”

“What are we gonna do now, Candy?” Lana’s eyes shone with unshed tears.

“Well, first we go back to the hotel so I can think this out. Where’s the tie pin?”

“I put it on top of the dresser in my room.”

“You what? You didn’t hide it?”

Lana’s mouth opened and closed as her eyes darted back and forth. “Um, no. Why? Wasn’t that okay?”

“No, it was not okay. Anyone can find it there. What if the maid comes in or some other hotel employee?”         

“Shit.”

“Stop saying that! C’mon, lets get back there!”

***

Upon entering their hotel suite, the two women were startled by an intruder. She stood facing them wearing a defiant look. In her left hand, she held the tie pin. In her right, she gripped some kind of knife. Neither Candy nor Lana had ever seen one like it before but both of them knew that it was definitely not a prop.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Snickerdoodle. Whatcha got there, Cookie?” Candy took a step forward. It was not that she felt brave. She simply wanted to see what Miss Snickerdoodle would do.

The intruder pointed the knife in Candy’s direction. “Stay back, you filthy woman. I know what you are.”

Candy cocked her head. “And what does that have to do with any of this?”

Lana pulled Candy back a couple of steps. “Shh. Don’t antagonize her.”

Miss Snickerdoodle’s lips formed a sneer as she snorted. “Yeah, listen to your little friend. Don’t antagonize me.”

The warning did not stop Candy. She needed to know why this weird little cookie girl stole the tie pin then planted it in Lana’s dress. More importantly, she needed to know why she killed the king. “You planted that tie pin in Lana’s dress, didn’t ya? How did you know about that secret pocket?”

Miss Snickerdoodle waived the knife at Candy and Lana forcing them away from the door. “Because I made that pocket. In fact, I made the whole damn dress.”

“But why frame me? What did I ever do to you? I don’t even know you?”

“Because I was supposed to be the Yule Maid until King Havensburg took a trip to Atlantic City and saw you. You stole that away from me, you little tart! The icing on the cake was when he ordered me to give him the dress so you could wear it.”

Nodding her head, Candy crept a bit closer to Miss Snickerdoodle. “Hey, I get it. The dude was awful to you. Instead of letting you be the star of the show, he gave you a supporting role as a cookie server. I heard he was not a very nice man.”

“Not very nice is putting it mildly. When he became King, he turned into an overseer and made all of us his servants. He took our land, declaring it to be his and made us pay enormous taxes on everything. He forced us to bake those horribly sweet cookies. He abused his power and he knew it. He didn’t care.”

“So you killed him.”

“Yes, I killed him. I didn’t mean to but he caught me stealing the tie pin. I was going to sell it, take my family and leave this dreadful country. He tried to stop me. I had no choice. Originally, I had a different plan, I drugged one of the cookies and gave it to your friend. I figured I’d plant the pin and then tell everyone I saw her take it. Then, after I led the police to your room and pulled the pin out of the secret pocket, I’d discretely switch it with a pin of my own, then stumble and drop that pin out the window. While the police searched the bushes, I’d disappear with the real pin. But after I accidentally killed the king, I just wanted to retrieve the emerald and escape this godforsaken country. Ah well, best laid plans and all that.”

Incensed that she had been made a scapegoat, Lana’s blood boiled. She lunged at Miss Snickerdoodle who fell to the floor. The tie pin flew from her hand. Candy scooped it up but Miss Snickerdoodle flipped over and kicked it away. Once again it went flying. This time it was rescued by Lana who sped down the hallway with Miss Snickerdoodle right behind her while Candy brought up the rear.

Lana raced outside and headed down an alley. Seeing a doorway, she opened it then bounded up a flight of steps. The door at the top opened into an automated cookie bakery. Rows of raw cookies were moved by conveyor belts into huge ovens where they became the country’s signature Snickerdoodles.

Something hit Lana in the head. She lost consciousness and slid down onto the floor. As she did, her hand opened and the tie pin fell onto one of the unbaked cookies on a conveyer belt. Miss Snickerdoodle dropped the big wooden spoon she had used to hit Lana and dove toward the belt but she was too late. The cookie had already gone into the oven.

Candy tore the lace trimming off the bottom of her nightgown. She grabbed Miss Snickerdoodle, pulled her hands behind her back and used the lace to tie them together. “Never turn your back on a woman in my profession, honey. We are quite resourceful. I feel sorry for ya but not sorry enough not to turn you in. Let’s go.”

***

Lana pressed a bag of ice to the back of her head while she and Candy watched Miss Snickerdoodle being placed into the back of a police car.

“You are my hero.” Alex beamed as he hugged Candy. “I hope your friend will be alright.”

“It’s not too bad. I’ll live.” Lana managed a weak smile.

“I’m sorry we lost the tie pin.” Candy shook her head. “Somebody is gonna be mighty surprised when they bite into their Snickerdoodle.”

“No worries. It wasn’t a real emerald and the setting was gold plate. My father kept the original in a locked safe. He never wore it because that little dog was worth a fortune.”

Candy smacked the back of Alexs’s head. “You mean we risked our lives tangling with that Snickerdoodle psycho for a piece of junk jewelry?”

“Ouch! Yes, you did. And I do thank you for that. Look on the bright side. You solved my father’s murder.”

“Hmpf. Yeah, we did. Believe it or not, this ain’t our first rodeo.”

“That sounds intriguing.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime, Sugar.” She kissed his cheek. “But not today.”

“You know, you are just the kind of woman I’ve always wanted, Candy.”

“Candy? How did you …”

“Did you really think I didn’t know about my father choosing your friend out of that escort catalog? I played along with your charade because you’re just so damned cute.”

Candy blushed. “Busted.” She rolled her eyes then spit out a laugh.

“Look, all kidding aside, will you marry me? If you do, you’ll become a queen, you know. I’ll even make your friend a princess.”

“Honey, I already am a queen. But yes. I’ll marry you.”

***

And that is how two streetwalkers named Candy and Lana became legitimate royalty. And, of course, they all lived happily ever after.

“Uh, yo! No! I can’t see ya but I sure as hell can hear ya so listen up lady who keeps yakkin’ and never shuts up. This ain’t no fairytale and you ain’t making me into some prim and proper royal prissy miss who drinks tea all day and plans hoity toity royal events. Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Why, I’m the narrator.”

“Yeah, well narrate this …”

“Wait just a minute, Candy. I also wrote this story. You will behave as I’ve written. My story, my rules.”

“Nope.”

“Yup.”

“Not happenin’ Sis. I’m goin’ back to Atlantic City right now. Let’s go, Lana.”

“Okay Candy, but what about Alex? Like that invisible lady said, he wants you bad.”

“I most certainly do, Lana. So, I’ll go with you girls. I love the beach and I didn’t want to be a king anyway, remember?”

(sigh)

“Fine. I’ll rewrite.”

And they all went to Atlantic City together. Alex bought a casino and made lots of money while Candy and Lana continued to entertain the high rollers.

The End.

“Better now, Candy?”

“Much better.”

…

©2023 by Cheryl Ann Guido
All Rights Reserved
Images within story created by Cheryl Ann Guido using Covet Fashion

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