Elves

In not yet a frantic but in a state of approaching urgency, Fran walked out onto the gift shop's stoop to collect her thoughts one more time. She had only three days to finish her preparation for the holidays and last minute Christmas shopping was not beneath her. Every year she vowed to finish early so she can enjoy the approaching days leading up to Christmas, but this year was not unlike the others. Her bags held lilac tissue paper holding in soaps, knits, handcrafted jewelry and other special trinkets appropriate for stocking stuffers. Her purchases were almost complete, but she still felt unsatisfied. What exactly she was looking for, she did not know. It was more of a feeling than an object of any sort, but she had hoped whatever it was she could find, it would take away this uneasiness.

She placed her packages on the front steps to tightened her scarf and button her coat to shield her neck from the intruding wind. The store's overhead lights and crowed paths had her sweaty beneath her bulky down coat, but now the cold air penetrated, chilling her perspiration and making her shudder. She looked up. It was a grey day. Not a patch of sunlight to be found. The wind blew down Market Street taking loose bags and other debris along with it. Passerby’s tightened their coat collars and braced themselves against the chilling December air.

She looked around briefly to scope the area, hoping this one last stop will fill her with the spirit of Christmas she had been longing for, when her eyes caught a young girl pulling at her mother's coat in an attempt to guide her to a store window. Fran, instantly caught up in this scene, watched the girl point at something inside the window. She could see from across the street it was a showcase of some sort decorated majestically for Christmas. She watched. Both mother and daughter peered. The mother covered her eyes loosely with her hand and knelt slightly, and the young girl with both hands tightly pressed against her forehead to block the street reflection, was against the glass marveling at something inside.

"The Gift Box" was the name of the store and Fran waited a moment for cars to pass before crossing the street to enter through ancient double wooden doors many times painted over until they were the deep purple they are today. Bells jingled over head and the shop owner glanced up over his glasses from behind the counter.

"Hello, welcome to The Gift Box where the heart and mind find peace."

"O, good afternoon," Fran said somewhat startled and somewhat unsure what to say next. "I'll just look around, if that's ok," she finally filled in becoming conscientious of herself.

"Take your time. Names Bud if you need me. Give a holler." Bud returned to his repair desk. Years of hunching over that table the way he was doing just now must have put that permanent hump in his spine, Fran thought to herself.

"Thank you." She walked to the front window and when she looked out, the mother and daughter had gone.

The display was grand. Doll elves meticulously arranged carried gear and packages. They looked antique. Their noses were pointy like their plastic ears, and their cheeks were painted red, the same color of their velvet suits that covered them from their heads all the way down to their turned up toes. A small brass bell was stitched to each tip. Perhaps they had been in someone's home a long time ago. Perhaps some child had played with and admired them every Christmas Eve. The thought warmed her heart and she forgot for a moment about her own melancholy. The plastic faces looked discolored, aged to a yolky yellow. One of the ears of the one handing a string of lights to another had been chipped, revealing a small hollow hole.

The showcase was a vintage theme and on the outskirts; a train circled and whistled every few minutes. It was a low whistle. The kind that if it were real, would come from some place far away echoing through the valley.

Fran peered out onto the street that was now lit up in the encroaching dusk. The deep beveled glass from which she stood on the inside could not help but make her feel like she was a part of this whimsical scene. To her amusement, she gave a hearty wave to the new spectators passing by and giggled to herself when they returned her wave. "They saw me," she laughed to herself.

Noticing how uplifting it felt to be released from her insecurities, she placed her shopping bags down and laid her coat and scarf over them. This newly found childishness coaxed her to daintily touch the fingers of one of the antiques and in a pretend handshake she said politely, "Nice to meet you. Mind if I stay awhile?" It stared back at her with its silly grin.

"M'am, I will be closing soon," the shop owner said now out from behind his counter. "M'am?"

Fran heard him but felt it unnecessary to respond. "My heart and mind have found peace, just like he said they would. I don't want to leave."

A smile was etched on her face. Black stitches replaced her lips in a Raggedy Ann fashion. Her head remained tilted in the friendly manner she used to greet the elf. Was it possible for her to be a doll, a replica of herself? Heart and mind, heart and mind. For the first time, one was not conflicting with the other. She wanted to stay here forever, trapped in a scene bringing joy to daughters pulling on their mothers' coat tails.

The shop owner picked her up from where she stood and moved her miniature body closer to the glass. Night fell in the bustling world outside her globe, but behind the concave window nothing moved but the play train set, but even then, nothing changed.

"There, there," he said tenderly, almost sympathetic. "Heart and mind, heart and mind. You're one of the lucky ones. Not all come to stay."

Unmoving, Fran stared into the faces of the antique elves. There were five of them and now she thought to herself she made six. In the morning, she would be poised greeting the shoppers from the street making them stop to peer in, bringing smiles to their faces. If one was lucky enough, he would come in from the cold in search of something special. He may even ask to stay awhile.

(Count: 1104)