A Viral Little Christmas (NYC, March 2020)

Chapter 3

The Madison Family were gathered around their faux fireplace. Tom & Henry were comfortably entwined in a big easy chair, Chris was sprawled on the sofa, and Alice was sitting on the floor, her legs folded under a large coffee table. Spread out on the table was their ongoing game of Dungeons and Dragons, and this time Alice was the Dungeon Master. She rolled the dice and frowned.

"What's wrong?" asked Chris, although he was pretty sure he knew already. Despite her 10 years of age, she was a damned good DM, he grudgingly admitted. But the look she was now wearing showed that the dice roll meant trouble for Schir the Dwarven Barbarian, Mot the Elven Ranger and Heryn the human Paladin. Whenever that happened, he'd noted, she somehow found a way to lead them out of danger without letting them know she was deliberately nudging them in the right directions.

"Nothing I can't figure out," she said quietly. She closed her eyes and went quiet for a moment. Then she smiled. "You're walking down a path that opens onto a valley. Through the trees you see a rope bridge. Who's in the lead?" she asked, looking intently at Tom.

"I'm in the lead," said Henry. "I'm the paladin, and the most capable."

"Are not," Chris protested, "I'm the strongest, so I should be in the lead!" But he knew what Alice was up to and winked at her.

Tom, unnerved by her gaze, finally took the hint. "I'm the Ranger, so pathfinding is my specialty. I guess that makes me the better choice?" he said, a little hesitant. When he saw Alice nodding, he said it more confidently – "I'm in the lead." Chris watched as Alice seemed to relax.

"As you cautiously walk on along the bridge, your Elven danger sense throbs in your forehead. Roll for perception."

Alice guided them through what turned out to be an ambush on both sides of the bridge, which forced them to jump off. They would certainly have perished, had Tom not rolled an amazing 20 for luck, which had them picked up by a passing flock of hippogriffs. Their dads then retired for the evening, leaving them both by themselves, with the understanding that they were to go to bed before 10:00 pm.

She had claimed the easy chair and appeared to be reading the first book in Tamora Pierce's Circle of Magic series, a book Chris had lent her a few days ago. He put away the D&D papers, rule books and dice, closing the lid of the hand-carved chest that Uncle Vanny had given to him last Christmas. "I'm onto you, little sister," he said. "I know you don't like it when the dice roll against us."

She put down the book, saw the truth in what he'd said, and honestly replied, "I don't like it when people get hurt, especially when they don't have to!"

"We have to get hurt sometimes," stated Chris matter-of-factly.

Alice smiled. "Yes, but not when I can help you out, you know?"

"Well, you didn't break any rules, did you?"

"No, I respect the rules. So, I work with them, and around them." She paused, tracing circles on the coffee table with her fingertip. "I'm scared. My homeroom teacher has the virus, and I watched online as they took her away to a hospital."

"You mean Ms. Walters?"

"It was scary, Chris. The news is full of stories about people dying, and not having enough supplies. And why are people suddenly so nuts about toilet paper? Will toilet paper be what everyone wants for Christmas this year? You know – why doesn't Great-Uncle Santa do something? Can't Christmas come early this year?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Chris responded. But truthfully, he thought, he'd been wondering the same thing. "I don't know about that. I think his magic only works at Christmastime."

"Well then," said Alice with a determined look, "Let's ask him." She got up, and walked down the hall to her room, emerging moments later with the snow globe she'd been given at Christmas by Tom. She was carrying it, Chris noted, with great care, and set it down on the coffee table, looking at him with a great, goofy triumphant grin. Chris was certain she'd gone a bit cuckoo.

"It's a snow globe," he said, completely deadpan – with a look he'd learned from Uncle Vanny.

"Look closely," whispered his sister.

"O-kay...there's a small cottage. In the snow. With windows."

"And?" Alice added. "What else?"

It looked like, he thought, any other stupid snow globe he'd ever seen. The snow was glittering, and the chimney was smoking, a candle flickered in the window...wait. The chimney was smoking? Where was the smoke going?" Chris looked even closer, and the smoke, rather than collecting inside the globe, appeared to just float upwards and vanish. "Huh?"

Alice had her hands folded, and looked very pleased. "Think of it as a closed-circuit camera, and not a snow globe. That's Snickerdoodle's home you're looking at."

'Who's Snickerdoodle?"

"She's Tom's Elf assistant. An Elf-App. She's his contact in the North Pole whenever Tom wants to get in touch with Santa."

Chris frowned. "And Tom gave you this snow...I mean, Elf-App, because why?"

"Because he loves me best!" she said jokingly, sticking her tongue out. "No, because it gives me a way to get in touch with him, in case I'm in trouble, or if there's an emergency and I can't reach either him or Dad."

Chris picked it up in his hand, turning it around. A stack of firewood was in the back, and a non-descript pile of fur with ears was asleep at the doorstep. "How does it work?"

"It's a snow globe, dum-dum. How else would it work?"

"You said it was an Elf-App."

"In the form of a snow globe," she said with disdain, "Go on."

He shook it, and nothing happened. The snow didn't stir. Nothing. "Does this snow globe need a password? Oh, right. It's a snow globe. It doesn't need a password."

His sister laughed, and again stuck out her tongue. "It's also an App. Hand it over, big bro. I am the password, if you hadn't already guessed."

She took the object from him and shook it vigorously. It was as if a white sun exploded in their room. A wind whipped around them, bringing a wave of snow in its wake, followed by a loud "OW!" and a "THUD!"

Henry and Tom ran into the living room, Henry in his undies and Tom in his Care Bears pajama bottoms. Tom knelt beside the small, pointy-eared figure sitting in a pile of snow in the middle of their living room, cursing a blue streak that was very much at odds with its child-like appearance. He held the elf's face between his hands, and said, "Doodles! Are you alright?"