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As the Tower gears up for Winter season, one holiday is on everyone’s mind: Christmas.
“Santa.” Gray has said simply enough. “Don’t forget about Santa.” These words had been enough to spur Nightmare into a flurry of activity that ended with him almost caught up on work.
“Was Gray being serious?” Alice asked as she placed a fresh cup of coffee on Julius’ desk. “Is Santa real?”
Julius delicately placed his tools on his desk and upon closing his eyes, he reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. “It seems he has found a new way to motivate the caterpillar.” He glanced at her. “I suppose you are still young enough to care about this.”
Alice pouted. “Look, I know he’s made up in my world, but this is wonderland. There’s a Christmas theme going on around the tower. I’m just asking if there’s really a Santa, or am I going to have a weird encounter with Gray wearing a fake beard in the hallway?”
Julius peered at her sideways. “I’m sure you know how Christmas works. You’re never supposed to see Santa in the first place. So why do you care so much? Just leave it alone. If you must focus on some trivial thing, focus on your coffee making skills.” He lifted the coffee cup to his lips. “Forty-seven points.” He announced.
“Wha-that’s even worse than last time!” Alice squawked. “I was super careful!”
“The coffee beans are more heavily roasted than the ones you are used to.” Julius calmly explained. “They would be perfect for the French press method, which requires a coarser grind than what you used.” He took another swallow and set his coffee to the side.
Alice grumbled about letting Gray do the shopping, but then stopped. “Didn’t you say you considered a score of seventy to be drinkable?”
“Higher.” Julius said, picking up his tools again.
“Okay, but why are you still drinking that?”
Julius paused and ducked his head to peer closely at one of the gears in the clock, his hair masking his face entirely. “I’m not in the habit of wasting coffee even if you’ve ruined it.”
Alice sighed a little. “Fine. Coarser grind next time, got it.” She paused. “Anyways, about Santa?”
“Don’t worry,” Julius said dryly. “I’m sure you’ll get presents later.”
“That’s not the point!”
“Then why worry about it?” Julius never looked up from his work. “Just enjoy the season and don’t think too much about what’s going on.”
***
Later, Alice came upon one of the winter festivities Nightmare bragged often about. It didn’t look official, but children and a few adults were building snowmen. It didn’t take long before Alice had joined in started helping three kids half her age roll up a giant snowman.
“I hope Santa gives me a tea set.” One of the girls confided in Alice.
“Yes?” Alice said. “When do you think Santa will come?”
The children had a superior expression of those who rarely knew something older kids didn’t. “On Christmas!”
“Christmas Eve!” The other girl clarified. “Santa always comes the night before Christmas.”
“Oh, right.” The boy of the group nodded. “You have to be in bed on Christmas Eve, or Santa won’t come.”
“Okay.” Alice said. “And when is Christmas Eve?”
“At night.” The first girl was beginning to eye Alice as if she thought Alice was a bit slow. “And Christmas is during the day.”
Alice had the feeling that she was losing the children’s interest so tried a new tactic. “What do you think Santa looks like?”
The children all beamed. “He has a red coat!” “A bag full of presents!” “An adult!” They chattered happily at Alice.
“Last April Season,” one of the girls confided to Alice, “My friend saw Santa!”
“Huh?” Alice almost stumbled over the snow ball. “Wait, for real?”
“Yes,” The girl said. “She had to run an errand and was out late and saw him.”
“Really?” Alice asked. “Did she talk to him?” She guided the last snow ball to the base of the snowman, urging the children to help.
The girl was giving Alice that all too patient look again. “Of course not! If Santa knew she wasn’t in bed on Christmas Eve, he won’t leave any presents. She had to hide behind a lamppost, so he didn’t see her.”
They had arrived at the base of the snowman, and Alice contemplated getting the head on the very top. Dutifully, the children gathered around Alice and helped her with the arduous task of rolling the final snow ball up the body of the snowman. When they were at the end of their reach and the head was almost there, Alice and the kids gave it a final shove, and for about half a second, the head wobbled into place. Then it slowly began to roll back towards them.
Alice closed her eyes, bracing herself for a cold and snowy disaster when nothing happened. The children started cheering, and Alice cracked her eyes open.
At her side, Ace was positioning the head just so, with an uncharacteristic gentleness that was more reminiscent of Julius. Ace glanced over and smiled boyishly at Alice as the children ran over with accessories for the snowman. And, as if this was a perfectly normal activity for him, Ace began helping the children selecting the perfect scarf.
Not to be outdone, Alice began searching through the assortment of buttons, selecting big black ones for the snowman’s body. She left Ace to sort through the carrots, and helped the children secure the buttons to the snowman.
“Ace,” she said, her voice straining to maintain a light, casual tone. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I’m on a job.” Ace said breezily. “For Julius.”
“Julius?” Alice asked, watching as Ace set the carrot ‘nose’ to the snowman’s head. “Julius asked you to build a snowman?”
Ace laughed at this. “Of course not.” Silly, his gaze implied as he winked at her. “I’m taking a break.”
Reflexively Alice looked at Ace’s waist and noticed the tell-tale bulge. It was a reminder that even in this perfect day, the world still moved along. The sack of clocks was very well hidden, but if Ace moved just so, she could see parts of it peeking through the side of his coat.
Still, Ace had put some effort into not talking about it, so Alice decided to drop the subject for now. She helped the children wrap the scarf just below the snowman’s head and stepped back to admire their combined handiwork. The snowman was picture-book perfect, with a wide goofy smile courtesy of Ace and some well-placed buttons.
Suddenly Alice noticed something. “Oh, looks like a carrot got away from us,” she said, removing the offending vegetable from the bottom of the snowman.
“No, it’s supposed to be there.” Ace said. At Alice’s confused he elaborated. “It’s a snowman, not a snowwoman.”
The children around her giggled as Alice goggled at Ace stupidly. He simply beamed back at her, completely innocent looking.
Alice flung the carrot at Ace, and it beamed off his head. “Ace!” she shouted, ignoring all the looks from the people around her. “Ace! No!”
Ace looked hurt, as if he was the one who was wronged. At least he did for about two seconds before his expression broke into a boyish grin and he let out a light and cheerful laugh.
“Ace!” Alice yelled, and reached forward to grab him, but he just out of her reach. His eyes shining bright, he made beckoned her forward. Alice lunged, and he slipped out from under her fingers, remaining just out of reach.
Alice sprinted towards Ace as it to tackle him, but he laughed and ran away instead. The children scattered from them in all directions, each laughing as well. As Alice chased after him, she saw his red coat flutter in the wind, revealing the bag of clocks.
***
“So, what you’re saying,” Joker said carefully, placing one of his cards face up on the table in front of Alice. “Is that you were playing tag?”
“No!” Alice exclaimed. “Well . . . no . . . maybe . . . but that’s not the point!”
“There was a point?” The mask at Joker’s waist grumbled.
“Ace’s coat is red, right?” At Joker’s nod, Alice continued. “And, well, he’s always carrying his camping gear around? Maybe someone saw him at night, and at just the right angle?”
“Santa Ace,” Joker mulled over the words. “It really doesn’t fit.”
“I’m just saying that one of the kids might have mistaken him for Santa.” Alice tried to clarify. “I know he’s not Santa, Santa isn’t real.” Alice shifted uncomfortably and placed one of her cards face up on the table.
Joker clucked his tongue. “That is such a jaded outlook, why are you so convinced that Santa isn’t real?”
“Sounds like someone always got coal in their stockings.” The mask snarked. “Sour grapes if you ask me.”
“No one asked you!” Alice shouted at the mask before she could compose herself. “Anyways, I was just wondering if I’m on to something. What do you think?”
“What do I think?” Joker looked confused, as if no one had asked him that in a while. “What I think . . . I think you should put out cookies and milk anyways.”
“Huh? You think Ace might wander in and get hungry enough for mystery cookies?”
“No, no,” Joker said, waving his hands. “Forget about Ace. But consider this, what if Santa is real? Wouldn’t it be nice if he was welcomed to your home? Are you not a nice girl?” The last sentence was thrown out like a barbed dart, and Alice shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m not that nice.” Alice mumbled.
“And that is why you always get coal!” The mask at Joker’s waist crowed. “Just think of poor Santa, visiting all those homes in one night, and not even a single cookie for thanks!”
“Joker!” Joker tried to sound apologetic, but Alice could hear the laughter in his voice. “Don’t be so mean, our guest didn’t know any better. It’s not her fault that Santa is starving.”
“Hey!”
Joker’s laughter was like bells chiming. “Think of it this way, isn’t this a good time to reclaim that youthful wonder? Don’t you find Christmas fun? That moment just before you finish unwrapping a present, when it could be anything and everything?”
“Everyone likes presents.” Alice admitted. “But that’s not the point.”
“Is it not?” Joker tilted his head sideways, the bells on his cap jingling. “People spend ages picking out the perfect present, the entire time thinking of the person who will one day receive it. There is no shame in enjoying presents.”
Alice frowned, placing another card on the table. “Presents aren’t the point of Christmas. It’s about family, and togetherness, and charity . . .”
“Nightmare is unable to provide that for you?” Joker asked. “Is it that horrible, living in the Tower?”
“The bagworm?” The mask asked. “Can’t expect anything from him, except for redecorating everything in red splatter.”
“No, Nightmare’s fine.” Alice said. “It’s just . . . like, no one will even tell me when Christmas will come.”
Joker tilted his head to the side in consideration. “I wonder, do all outsiders care so much about linear time? Christmas will come when it comes. And it will come again, and again, and yet again.”
“That’s,” Alice searched for the word, “So not helpful. Like, at all.”
“Hmm?” Joker’s red eye glinted. “You don’t sound so happy with the prospect. Does the season bore you? Does your landlord bore you?”
“He’s fine, it’s all . . .fine.” Alice said. “It’s just that . . . I really want to figure this Santa thing out.”
“Ahh,” Joker leaned back and put down one of his cards without even looking at it. “Is that what you find entertaining? Not presents?” He looked her up and down, with an impersonal air of a tailor taking in her measurements. “Not an even a pretty red scarf?”
Alice grunted, and placed one of her own cards down. “What I want is answers. If someone would tell me about Santa, and if he exists in this world or not, I would be very happy.”
Joker only smiled enigmatically. “Is that what you want? An ending without a journey? Presents without being able to anticipate Santa?”
“Greedy.” Alice wasn’t certain if the mask was admonishing or admiring her.
“That’s not what I was saying.” Alice grumbled. Suddenly she noticed something and placed her last card down. “My win.”
“Oh?” Joker looked confused at the cards. “Oh, you’re right.” He smiled and shrugged. “My loss.”
“Your loss?” The mask screeched. “Maybe if you were paying more attention to the cards, you xxxx!”
Joker gave Alice an apologetic look and a ‘what can you do?’ shrug. “What season did you want?” Joker asked, subtly muffling the mask with his hand.
***
Joker sniffed the air suspiciously when Alice sat down again, a suspicious frown wrinkling his forehead. The pointed tap-tap of cards shuffling paused briefly. “Wait . . . what’s that I smell?”
“Huh?” Alice asked, but Joker ignored her and started peering around her suspiciously, sniffing audibly.
“You . . . have cotton candy?”
“Oh, yeah, I guess.” Alice glanced at the bag she had brought with her. “I was bringing some back from the amusement park.”
“Okay,” Joker said, “New rule. In order to play cards with me, you have to give me some of that candy you’re toting around. C’mon now, fork it over.”
Alice peered closer at Joker. His face was the same, and the clothes were the same but . . . “You’re different today, aren’t you?”
“What?” Joker looked offended. “I’m not different, I’m always Joker. Now, do you want to play cards, or do you want to live in summer forever with all that candy of yours?”
“No,” Alice said. “You’re not the same Joker I met with earlier today. You’re . . .” Alice studied him closely for a moment longer before snapping her fingers. “You’re the mask.”
“Humph.” Joker settled back, apparently dropping the matter of the cotton candy for the moment. “I’m not just a mask.”
“Where is the other Joker?” Alice asked. “Why isn’t he here?”
“Taking a personal day to galivant around the country.” Joker shrugged. “If there’s any justice in the world, your last conversation motivated him to put coal in your stockings.”
“He can do that?”
“Yeah, coal is common enough.”
“No, I mean I’ve never seen him leave the circus.”
“He’s only doing it because the amazingly self-sacrificing me was able to cover for him.” Joker said. “Oh, ‘I’ll be back before you realize I’m gone! It’ll be easy!’ Ass.”
“It sounds like the two of you need to talk some things out.” Alice said. “Good luck with that. Turn the season to Winter, and I’ll get out of your way.”
“Not so fast.” Joker said. “I can’t change the win the card game rule even if I wanted to.” His expression said that it would be a very cold day before that would happen. “So, come on and fork over some of that candy so we can get this show on the road. I don’t have all day.”
“I’m not giving you my candy.” Alice said. “Can you do that? Can you refuse to play a card game with me?”
Joker shifted, so he didn’t quite have to look her in the eyes. “Are you calling me a liar? That fits the other Joker better, and doesn’t endear me to you, princess.” He gestured in the direction Alice had arrived. “If you don’t want to play, leave so I can go back to work. Time doesn’t rest for the wicked.”
“The other Joker said it did.” Alice settled into a more comfortable position. “Tell you what, since my home is gearing up for Christmas and I’m full of the spirit or something, I’ll bring you a souvenir next time.” She made a mental note to bring him some of Gray’s cooking. “I’m not moving until I play your card game.”
Joker peered at her suspiciously before sighing and made a motion as if giving her a concession. “I expect some of those chocolates from that shop near the tower. The ones with the salted caramel filling.”
“You’ve been there?”
Joker snorted. “I’m not imprisoned here or anything. I’ve just been too busy to go there.”
“Busy doing what?” Alice asked.
“Busy doing none of your business.” Joker reached out and flicked his fingers against her forehead. “And I’m doing more of ‘none of your business’ later today, and I’ll be doing a lot of ‘none of your business’ tomorrow, miss nose. Or at least I would if you would ever just play the damn card game.”
“Okay, let’s do it then. Blackjack.”
Joker laid out the cards, and Alice barely looked at them. “Oh, blackjack!”
“Huh?” Joker looked up at her.
“Twenty one. I’ve got a blackjack.”
“What . . . the odds of that . . .” Joker grabbed her cards and looked at them himself. “No, you cheated or something. We’ll do this again.”
“You dealt the cards.” Alice pointed out. “I barely touched them.”
Joker shrugged. “It doesn’t count. Let’s do this again.”
***
“Ten games.” Alice grumbled. “Ten games because that man kept on calling me a cheater. I was there forever!”
“Ahh . . .”
“The entire time, he just kept on calling me a cheater! It’s not my fault the man kept on dealing me twenty-ones.”
“Okay . . .”
“And he kept on adding snide remarks about me eating all the candy myself. I’m not going to balloon up just because I had a few bites of cotton candy!”
“Sure . . .”
“And that’s why I missed the giant Christmas present party where everyone opened their presents from Santa.”
“Yeah. . .”
“You sure you don’t mind sharing this popcorn with me? It was Santa’s gift to you. I didn’t realize that your love of cream soda popcorn was so well known.” Alice threw a couple more pieces in her mouth. It really was amazingly good.
“. . . huh?” Julius looked up, his eyes a little misty as if he was just coming to himself. “Oh, yeah, go ahead.”
“But this proves it, that Santa is real, right?” Everyone had been happy and excited with their presents by the time Alice had escaped Joker and made it to the tower. “But, I don’t get some of the presents. Nightmare had a book on how to tame lions? I know he says that he can use it against Gray, but does it really make sense?”
Julius shrugged a little, the movement limited to his shoulders and not his hands. He was skilled like that. “Sure, why not.”
Alice toyed with her Christmas present too. It was a lovely red scarf with a black diamond pattern. Even though it was starting to get stuffy wearing it in Julius’ comparatively warm workshop, she couldn’t bear to take it off.
“Oh, before I forget,” Julius put down his tools and pulled out something from underneath his desk. It was a box, with a paper wrapping and a rather elaborate bow that had been apparently beyond Santa’s ability with his presents. “This one is from me.”
“Oh?” Alice accepted it and opened it. “A hat?” While they were obviously handmade, they did not match the scarf. “Um . . .thanks. I didn’t get you anything.”
“That’s fine.” Julius pointed at a corner of his desk where a small pile of parts had gathered. “You can go through those and help me with them. Just like you used to.”
“Oh,” Alice laughed a little. “Are you falling behind or something? Sure, I’ll help.” Alice settled down in her old customary place at the end of Julius’ desk like she had ages ago. It was nostalgic, like it had been when they were together in the Country of Hearts. “Hey, Julius?”
“Hmmm . . . “
“Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah.”