The Present

3-2

“I think I’m going to bejewel ‘That is so extra’ on one of my sarees,” Bismaad said to me as we gathered the last of our belongings. “Do you want to come with me to the North Pole Crafting Cottage? Maybe have lunch afterward?”

“Can’t. I have my first meeting with Brandon and Midori.”

“Frost!” I turned to see Griselda approaching us. “Did Bismaad tell you about our accents study group?”

“I was about to,” Bismaad said. She turned to me. “I know you don’t need it this year, but do you want to join our study group in a few hours as we prep for the different countries our Scrooges are in? We bring snacks and run fun improv scenarios.”

“You’ve been here the longest and Scrooged on all seven continents,” Griselda chimed in. “The less experienced ghosts would definitely benefit from your expertise. I hear you do an awesome New Zealand accent.”

“I’m sorry. Thank you for the invitation, but my job priorities come first and I’d rather not waste time on side activities that don’t directly pertain to that. I hope you understand.”

“Oh, okay,” Griselda replied sadly. “I understand.”

Bismaad gave me a hopeful look. “Maybe we can hang out later?”

“Maybe,” I said, inching toward the door. “I really have to run though. Have fun at the Crafting Cottage. Happy hot glue gunning.”

I waved goodbye to the girls and made my way to the CCD library. It was a magnificent round space with pillars separating the spiral walkway and study rooms. The marble majesty reminded me of Napoleon’s tomb. I’d had two Scrooges in Paris in the latter half of last century and that—the building, not the man—had left an impression on me. What a way to be buried. Unlike my own plain gravestone in California . . .

I moved down the walkway. Naturally the library had a much bigger Christmas emphasis than Napoleon’s tomb. Spotlights illuminated Christmas trees in alcoves, each tree decorated with golden ornaments, garlands, bows, and tiny harps. Every inch of wall space was carved with elaborate moldings of wintery scenes. Crystal candelabras wrapped in holly decorated the shared study tables in the main section.

My heeled boots beneath my floor-length indigo dress clicked along the marble floor, creating a soft echo. I approached Study Room 1, the Partridge Room—spotting my teammates through the glass on the door. Inside, Midori sat silently in an erect armchair, staring straight ahead. Brandon lounged with one leg over the armrest of his seat, playing a handheld videogame. A sparkly purple pear with a bite missing rested on the table next to him. It looked like it’d been taken from the glowing candleholder at the center of the table, decorated with pine boughs and purple and green pears. Despite the fact that they looked like they’d been rolled in glitter, evidently they were edible.

Complementing the centerpiece, depictions of partridges and pear trees covered the walls.

“Good afternoon,” I said upon entering. I hesitated at the chair closest to the door, which would place me opposite Midori, then shifted to the spot beside Brandon. I couldn’t deal with her Jedi-level eye contact focused straight at me through the meeting.

“I hope your research on our Scrooge was as productive as mine was,” I continued. I folded my hands on the table. “So tell me, what are your initial reactions to Jay?”

Brandon scowled at his game as it made a series of sad bleeps. He set the device down and drew a disorganized bundle of colorful notecards from his backpack. “Okay, hold on . . .” He started to lay the different colors in piles, but had a little trouble separating some due to a misplaced wad of gum that’d gotten stuck in between them.

“Alrighty,” he said, finishing his sorting. “Out the gate, for my three visits to Jay’s past Christmases that we incorporate into his Scrooging, I’m thinking I’ll do one when he was a kid, one involving that lady Celia he was married to for a while, and the third could be to when he won his first election in college.”

“Taking him to see his childhood is a must,” I agreed. “That’s a best practice for every Scrooging—nothing gets people choked up like seeing themselves at their most innocent. As for Celia, I want to meet her in person before we expand on how to involve her. I don’t think the election thing is the best angle though.”

“Why not?” Brandon frowned. “The guy lost a gazillion elections. Remembering his first win should inspire him with hope. If he’s going down a dark path, reminding him that good ol’ fashioned, honest persistence eventually pays off is an awesome lesson.”

“I don’t argue that,” I said. “However, that’s not the lesson he learned in that election.”

“I read his files,” Brandon protested. “He won. After so many losses, nothing should’ve made him happier.”

“Yes, Brandon, but you’re not seeing the full picture.”

Brandon huffed. “Frost, I’m in charge of the past. This should be my call. Maybe you’re not seeing that picture.” The small boy had gone from cool and confident to, well, frosty.

I sighed internally but didn’t let his testiness affect me past that. I had been new once. This job was a ton to process with a lot at stake. I didn’t blame him for getting defensive in response to his ideas being questioned. When you had the soul of a human being riding on your shoulders, you wanted others to fully believe you knew what you were doing.

That being said, Brandon was at the beginning of his journey and it was important that he learned this job had many different moving parts that required attending. I would shepherd that. He wasn’t my first new recruit I’d been obliged to mentor, so I could be patient with him. It took a great deal more than a snippy nineyear-old to get me riled up. I hadn’t lost my cool with anyone in decades. Even all my past Scrooges—selfish, cruel, shortsighted people that they were—never got under my skin.

I adjusted tone to address Brandon calmly. “I know this is your first year participating in a Scrooging mission, Brandon, but you need to remember that part of the job means seeing all the angles. I can’t visit the past like you can, so that does make you the most powerful of us where that aspect of Jay’s journey is concerned, just as Midori is the most powerful of us where Jay’s future is concerned. But since you have dozens of Decembers to scan through, Specter One provides Ghosts of Christmas Present with film reels of key moments throughout our Scrooge’s life so we can help Ghosts of Christmas Past navigate all those memories. It’s like you are the one with the boat and sailing skill, but Jay’s past is a vast ocean and I have the compass.”

Brandon blinked at me. Anger faded from his face, but confusion and doubt still lurked.

“I think you need to see one of the clips I watched yesterday,” I said. “It will have more of an impact if we view it in person though. Can you take me and Midori back?” He of course could take us back, but asking was much more polite than demanding.

“Okay . . .” Brandon said. “I assume this magical memory was something that happened in December? I can only travel to events that happened around Christmas, so if this involved an epic Fourth of July, that’s not in my wheelhouse.”

A second internal sigh. “I know, Brandon, this isn’t my first rodeo. It’s a moment from mid December thirteen years ago. Based on your comments, I’m guessing you only read about Jay’s first successful election; you didn’t visit that part of his past yet.”

“You’re right. I didn’t . . .” Brandon’s haughty demeanor gave way to embarrassment. “It’s a lot of past to go through, you know?”

“I know,” I said supportively. “Come on. Let’s do this together.” I offered him my hand.

After a second, he huffed. “Just make sure to concentrate hard on the destination. Lose focus for even a second and we could end up anywhere or anywhen.” He gave me and Midori each one of his squishy little boy hands.

Why is he sticky?

Brandon began to glow with evocative blue light that enveloped the three of us. I closed my eyes and thought about a specific scene from the film reel last night—the one I believed may have caused a major ripple in the fabric of Jay’s soul.

Energy seeped through my body. What felt like a bubble of air burst inside me and I gasped, opening my eyes. We now stood on the messy, smelly upstairs landing of a two-story house. Numbered bedroom doors lined the corridor. A few of them held wreaths. A ratty garland had been tied to the banister of the staircase. Mistletoe hung over the front door below.

I let go of Brandon’s hand. He, Midori, and I remained coated in the blue color of the kid’s magic, but we’d become partially translucent.

A rowdy group of college boys with Greek letters painted on their chests raced by and phased through us, chanting “WINTER BREAK! WINTER BREAK!”

There was a door directly across from us. It was barely open a crack, but the murmur of several voices leaked out. That’s when I saw a college-aged Jay climbing the steps behind us, carrying a stack of books. At the top of the stairs he started to head right, but then paused on the landing with us. The voices caught his attention too.

This was my first close-up of our Scrooge. His eyes were tired but alert. His face was unmarked by wrinkles or worry lines.

Jay cautiously drifted closer, coming to hover by the door. I nodded to Midori and Brandon and we phased through the walls into the room Jay eavesdropped on. Within we found four fraternity boys. Two lounged on the bed, one on the floor, another on a beanbag chair.

“So, we’re in agreement then?” asked a guy with spiky blond hair sitting on the beanbag. “We’ll give the presidency to Abed and then Eric can have the Fraternity Relations position.”

“You sure the house won’t ask questions?” asked a skinny boy. “Eric won the presidential vote by a solid number. A lot of guys picked him.”

“They didn’t see the votes so they don’t know that, and they trust the system, so why would they be suspicious?” Spiky Blond responded.

“Okay,” said a deeply tanned boy. “Assuming we lock in that decision, that only leaves the VP slot and the Social Chair job. We need to count those votes.”

“The votes don’t matter at this point,” interjected Spiky Blond. “Jay only ran for the VP slot while Teddy ran for that and Social Chair. Just give Jay VP, make Teddy Social, and we have our newly elected board.”

“What’s going on here?” Jay pushed the door open, confused and upset.

The guys almost jumped out of their skins. One kid even fell off the bed. If Jay hadn’t been so concerned, it may have been comical.

A dark-haired boy in shorts stood up quickly. “Jay, man.” He shut the door behind him. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”