Merry Catastrophe

     Groggy with sleep, Cassia opened the front door of Mandress Mansion, letting the chill December air into the expansive entryway to float in a misty haze over the gleaming oak floor. The scene outside looked like a postcard from a bygone era of snow-covered, winter-bare trees and flowing fields surrounding the estate grounds. It was all picture-perfect, if one was partial to winters, and snow, and the country.

     Except for what stood right in the middle of the doorway.

     That part did not compute.

     The non-sleepy part of Cassia’s mind yelled at her to shut the door and save some money on the outragous heating bills, but she could only stand there gaping like a dumb-struck deer at the elf standing on the front stoop. 

     The elf wore a complex and beautiful jerkin in shades of delicate green, the fabric pieces sewn together in irregular shapes, all over matching green leggings and an undershirt of fine cream linen.

It also had blue hair, worn in short spikes and a rather emo swooping side cut.

     Cassia blinked.

     The elf resolved into her friend Genevieve. 

     Genevieve looked like an elf because she wore fake pointy ear pieces, along with the beautiful, but still very strange clothes.

    “What?” Cassia croaked, her voice still not working. She’d been deep in sleep not more than five minutes ago when the awful banging had started up at the front door.

     “Good morning, Cat! Happy picking day! You get the honors this year.”

     “Picking what? Your gravestone?” Cassia asked. She was not a morning person. Not even for Genevieve.

     “Cheer up. I brought hot cinnamon rolls with pecan caramel topping.” Genevieve waved a huge box under Cassia’s nose. It was still warm enough to waft a tantalizing smell. It smelled like the inside of heaven.

     Cassia was also highly bribable. 

     Delicious food was definitely an acceptable bribe. Especially since it was the sugary kind.

     Genevieve gave her a smile and wink. “There is enough for seconds….” she teased.

     “Fine. Come in,” Cassia said, backing up and letting Genevieve pass by. Genevieve paused only long enough to carefully wipe her pointy and curled up shoes on the entry mat before stepping onto the hardwood floors. She didn’t leave a single wet footprint as she walked to the kitchen at the back of the mansion.

     Shuffling after the ridiculous elf, Cassia looked at her own sweatpant pajamas versus the outfit Genevieve wore. Even on a normal day, Genevieve looked amazing. Honestly, she looked amazing even when she also looked weird as all get out. 

     Like today.

     “Why are you wearing that?” Cassia said as they turned left into the vast white mansion kitchen. A kitchen that could have contained her old apartment lock, stock and barrel.

     “What?” Genevieve said in mock innocence, sliding the paper bakery box onto the large marble island in the middle of the kitchen, along with the drink caddy Cassia had just noticed.

     “I have coffee here,” Cassia said.

     “Grumpy today, aren’t we?” Genevieve said. 

     “No,” Cassia said in a most decidedly grumpy tone.

     “Well, your coffee doesn’t have chocolate and cream and some peppermint mixed in, does it?” Genevieve said.

     That sounded terrible. Absolutely dreadful, in fact.

     “Stop scowling, Cat. It’s delicious. It’s also a Forgotten Valley holiday tradition. I insist you try some.”

Genevieve pulled one of the large drinks from the caddy, pulled out the little drink stop from the top of the cup and handed it over to Cassia.

     Making a face, Cassia slowly raised it and took a sip.

     Holy holiday bells on Santa’s sled! It was amazing. Hot and sweet and creamy and—

     “Whoa there, you’re going to make yourself sick,” Genevieve said as she pulled the cup from Cassia’s lips. “Slow down a bit.”

     “Why’d you bring it if you’re just going to take it away?” Cassia asked. She held out a hand and wiggled her fingers for Genevieve to return the cup, but Genevieve just shook her head and put it down by the stove, far from Cassia.

     Fine.

     Pointedly ignoring the cup of manna, Cassia sat at the island and pulled the bakery box towards herself.

     She opened the lid. Four huge pecan caramel rolls the size of her face filled the box. It was beautiful. It was obscene. It was a million calories.

     Cassia didn’t care. She was going to eat them all.

     “You have to share,” Genevieve said. 

Cassia waved away her words, reaching down into the box to grab one of the rolls. Genevieve neatly slid a plate underneath Cassia’s roll as she pulled the box away to grab her own.

     After twenty minutes of contented chewing, Cassia sighed heavily. As if on cue, Miss Mansfield, the resident cat, delicately walked into the kitchen, her furry black tail curled up in a question mark and then stood by her dishes, staring at Cassia with piercing golden eyes. The darkness of her all-black fur stood in stark contrast to the incessant white of the kitchen decor. There was no ignoring Miss Mansfield.

     Taking the hint, Cassia got up and fed her. Miss Mansfield never had to worry about calories, Cassia was sure. The sleek and trim cat always looked perfect.

     “Okay, spill. What is with,” Cassia waved at Genevieve’s outfit, “all that? Are you going to work at the diner like that?”

     “Of course not, I have my diner uniform.”

     Genevieve’s diner uniform was pale blue, and frilly, and right out of the fifties. It was also ridiculous, but somehow Genevieve made it work, even with her combat boots and manga hairstyle. 

     Or maybe Cassia had just become immune to the weirdness that she’d come to expect from anything having to do with her new town of Forgotten Valley, Minnesota.

     Genevieve sat up and clapped her hands, startling Cassia. Genevieve’s sparkling eyes made Cassia’s stomach ache in a weird way that she was starting to associate with adventures, and not always the safest kinds. Anyone else would think Genevieve was just excited about the coming holiday season.          Cassia wasn’t falling for that. 

     Again. 

     Genevieve pushed away her dish and leaned in towards Cassia over the marble countertop. “The holidays are here! My favorite time. Every year I volunteer somewhere and this is this year’s outfit. What do you think?” She gestured from the top of her elf-ears all the way down to what looked like custom-made elf booties.

     Cassia squinted at Genevieve. Honestly, she looked great. “The hair might not work with green,” Cassia finally said. It was all she could think of.

     “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. The blue goes much better with black clothing, but I don’t know what other color to do for my hair. Red and green are so… cliché.”

     Cassia’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re dressed like an elf…”

     “But a cool elf.”

     “Is there any other kind?” Cassia asked.

     Genevieve shot her a look as she gathered their dishes and brought them to the enormous trough of a sink. “I am not one of those tacky ones from the mall.” She straightened her jerkin as she turned back to Cassia. “I was thinking white hair. No, better yet, gray. Or is that too much three years ago?”

     Were they wearing gray hair three years ago?

     Cassia couldn’t remember. All her professors had had gray hair, but she doubted that was a conscious choice. 

     “White would work. You could be twins with Roger. Maybe he could be a big elf, or Santa,” Cassia joked.

     “Nah, he’s not available this year,” Genevieve said in all seriousness. “Big commission or something like that. So it’s your lucky day.” She gave Cassia a huge smile.

     That did not bode well.

      “I don’t understand why I have to be blindfolded.” Cassia protested as Genevieve spun her about. The warm and reassuring cinnamon rolls in her tummy were rapidly turning into a gigantic doughball that wanted to come back up. “Stop spinning me!” 

     Genevieve didn’t stop. 

     Cassia put one arm around her belly and stretched out the other. Her fingers touched a cabinet that frustratingly slipped away. 

     “I will throw up on you,” Cassia said, her voice breaking as she swallowed down the threatening food. 

Genevieve stopped spinning her. “Right, sorry. My brother doesn’t have a problem with it.”

     “I am not your brother,” Cassia said. 

     Poor brother. 

     “Okay, throw the ornament.” 

     “Where?” Cassia asked. She held a prickly red and green Christmas tree ornament. It looked like a glass ball, but luckily was made of plastic, and covered with tons of tiny plastic hooks. At least she thought it was plastic underneath all the glued-on stuff.

     “Straight ahead.”

     Cassia weakly threw the ball. It landed with a strangely muted thud on the homemade fabric target Genevieve had hung from two of the fancy cabinet knobs. Made out of felt, the target had a large round felt pie in the middle, divided into wedged-shaped sections with names sewn in each one. Things like ‘Animal Hoppiness Shelter’, ‘Green’s Home for Orphans’, and ‘The Shelter of the only Slightly Unhoused.’ 

Since she didn’t hear the ball hitting the floor, Cassia must have actually hit one of the wedges.

     Genevieve clapped her hands. “On the first try too! Way to go, Cat.”

     Slipping the blindfold up, Cassia peered at the target. Her ball was stuck firmly on the wedge called ‘Happy Seniors, Inc.’

     “If these seniors are so happy, why do we have to go?” Cassia said petulantly. She stared into the full-length mirror in her bedroom as Genevieve adjusted the elf outfit she’d made for Cassia. 

     It was in various shades of orange and yellow, and stood out like a brilliant sun in the muted tans and browns of the sedate and dignified room.

     There was nothing dignified about the costume. 

     Cassia felt ridiculous. She looked like a cereal mascot. Plus, yellow and orange were really not her colors.

     Not to mention the fake elf ears.

     “Is this cultural appropriation or something?” Cassia said.

     Genevieve immediately stopped straightening Cassia’s leggings over the custom pointy shoes and stared at her in breathless excitement. “Do you know any elves? Tell me what they’re like.”

     Cassia’s mouth fell open.

     “Of course I don’t know any elves!” Cassia finally said.

     Genevieve dropped the excited look and burst into laughter. “You should have seen the look on your face.”

     “No,” Cassia said. She pouted into the mirror. Looking at herself in an elf costume was a horrible sight, but it was better than watching Genevieve laugh at her.

     “Oh, stop being so crabby. This will be fun.”

     Cassia grunted.

     The front doorbell rang, the old-fashioned bells themselves actually ringing out from the kitchen. Then they rang again before the first set of bells had even died out. Whoever was out there was in a hurry.

Cassia and Genevieve stared at each other. 

     “Are you expecting anyone?” Genevieve asked.

     “Are you kidding? I was expecting to be sleeping right now. Who bugs people early on a Saturday morning?”

     Genevieve frowned.

     “Besides you,” Cassia quickly added. “You bring food. You’re forgiven.” The elf costume caught her eye in the mirror as she turned. “Maybe,” Cassia added as she padded off to see who was at the front door.

Genevieve trailed after, replacing her hat that she’d taken off to help Cassia into her own outfit. She set it at a jaunty angle just behind her fake elf ears just as Cassia swung open the door to reveal a burly dark-haired man in his forties wearing a fleece-lined flannel shirt, and a young kid sporting blond spikes, an oversized bomber jacket, and a permanent teenage smirk.

     The kid took one look at Cassia, and then at Genevieve coming up behind her in the hall and threw his head back laughing. The raucous noise echoed throughout the mansion entryway, and back out to the trees in the far distance, sending crows up into the sky.