The Christmas Crusade [NaNoWriMo 2015]

❄ Chapter Five ❄

          Moose knocked on the store door at ninety miles per hour, her ears freezing. Her town's weather decided that it'd be a perfect time to get close to freezing and start snowing. It didn't, but it was close to, there was a perfect layer of frost everywhere. Does this happen in other towns?

          She tried peeking through the window, but it was too foggy for her to see through the windows or even through her glasses. She cursed and tried to clean her glasses, trying to peek through the window again.

          She knocked a few more times, then the owner came out and squinted, trying to see who was there. Moose tried her best to look nice and presentable, but she knew she would fall short, considering herself and her clothes.

          The owner opened the door and looked down at the teenager in front of him. He made a face that Moose saw on everyone she passed by. She was wearing boots and jeans, regular clothes that people wore. But then came her ugly Christmas sweater with a snowman on it which was only slightly covered by Darcy's hand-me-down pea coat. And the cherry on top was her moose antler beanie.

          Yes. She had a moose antler beanie.

          "Hi, Mr. Holland, I know you open at nine, but can I stay in here for a bit, please? I kind of need an in and out and I know that a bunch of people rush in the second you open."

          Mr. Holland looked at her warily, but then saw her shivering and her breath fog up. He jerked his head inside and she smiled, walking in. She took a deep breath; it still smelled like chocolate, even in the mornings.

         Mr. Holland's store was a seasonal place, only open during the Thanksgiving/Christmas season. Then he'd work his other job at a regular bakery that was open all year.

          She loved the smell of his place, it always smelled like what she imagined the Christmas bakeries she saw in movies and Hallmark commercials to smell like. It was just like those bakeries too, the way everything was placed; she was sure he planned it that way.

          She waited as patiently as she could, sitting on a chair by one of the few tables he had indoors. She pulled off her gloves; she could never wear them, they always made her fingers tingle. She corrected herself, then, because they weren't her gloves, they were Elliot's.

          She shook her head. She was even thinking polite. Not that she wasn't, it's just that she was being overly polite in her head and she didn't like it. Fuck, shit, damn. Okay, she was good.

          She looked at her phone and frowned at the blob of text she received from Babs. At first, she thought something happened when she was changing or that she walked out of the house without shoes or five layers of clothes, but it turned out she had just finished watching the latest episode of 'How to Get Away with Murder' and she had a lot of feelings.

          "Jessica?" Moose looked up at Mr. Holland. She tried to smile.

          "Chessca, actually. But Moose would be a lot better."

          He nodded. "Alright, then, Moose. I'm sorry, I could never get your name right after all these years. I remember you form when you were small, you always loved the snowman cookies," he handed her a bag, "No charge."

          She smiled and took the bag. "Thank you, Mr. Holland, that's super nice of you. My friend Elliot Kringle sent me, he said to just tell you his name and you'd know..."

          Mr. Holland smiled at her, "Oh, that boy, I know what he wants. He loves this place more than any, but a lovely boy, always polite. Sorry, I'm starting to drone on, sound like my wife, not that there's any problem with that, my wife is lovely, I'll go get what you were sent for."

          Moose felt like she was eight again, young enough to still think the place was the North Pole, but old enough to actually know what it was. She loved Christmas back then. She really missed that time.

          Mr. Holland came back with another bag. "Tell Elliot that I said hi. Tell Barbara that as well, she was always a joy to have here."

          Moose nodded and waved, putting on Elliot's gloves and picking up the two bags. She ran along the sidewalk, cursing at the cold, trying to get to their meeting spot. Why would Elliot even need these cookies, they're getting, like, a lifetime supply of gingerbread cookies every day.

          She slowed at the street they were supposed to meet at. She walked slowly, glancing around at the different apartments. She stopped when she reached a garage with a fence. She looked at the number and tilted her head; this was the place.

          "Uh, Babs? Elliot? Is this the place?" She slapped herself. This is what people do in horror movies before they go inside, then die.

          "Moose?" She went rigid and looked around, prepping to run. "Moose? You there?" She stopped and tilted her head again, then relaxed; it was Elliot. He smiled and opened the gate. She handed him his bag and followed him inside.

          Babs was sitting there, talking to someone Moose couldn't see. She turned and waved at her friend before going back to talking again. Moose sighed; always trust Babs to make a friend.

          Elliot pulled up a chair for her and gestured to where the stranger was. "Moose, I'd like to introduce you to Marcus Rockwell."

          The stranger stood up and Moose's eyes widened; it was the kiosk boy. His dyed hair was all messy and his glasses were perched on the top of his head like sunglasses. He squinted at her until he put his glasses back on correctly.

          "Hey," he said, nodding.

          "Hey," she said back, "You're making the race track?"

          He nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, I can't make it, make it, I know some people who will, but I can design it and mark the points on the materials, so yeah. I can make it make it." He ducked his head and smiled a little.

          Moose grinned and patted Elliot's back as she went to his bag on the table. "I like him, he's cool." She turned to Babs and mouthed 'keep him'.

          She looked in Elliot's bag and frowned. Inside were individually wrapped chocolate balls. She looked up and frowned at Elliot. Those were the worst selling treats Mr. Holland made, in fact, he stopped making them years ago.

          Elliot shrugged. "I like 'em and he doesn't mind making them for me every Christmas."

          Moose didn't say anything, just handed him his bag. She pulled off her gloves (his gloves) as well and gave them to him. She walked over to Babs and Marcus, looking over at the sketches he had drawn up for the race track. He was really good at what he did, it was almost scary.

          They spent hours in the garage, going over all the sketches of the race track. Moose wanted to bring up the Polar Express, but she guessed it was one thing at a time. Elliot ate his chocolate balls and Babs shared the gingerbread cookies with Marcus.

          Moose ate her snowman cookies. Mr. Holland gave her a baker's dozen. She was fifteen. She ate the cookies as she worked, trying to remember every year she could when she actually loved Christmas.