Home for Christmas

by Fei Dante

 

 

When magic student Dana finds a portal in her home, she decides to use it for her thesis, thinking it will be an easy task. Little does she know that this portal is one of a kind, and causes her body to change in unexpected - but appreciated - ways.

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The grandfather clock under the stairs chimed seven times, deep, echoing gongs resonating through the house. It was quite dark outside, and the lampposts on the street threw shards of light through the windows and on her face.

Dana woke up, trying to find her arm in the twist of her own body and the blanket that wrapped her. There it was, fully asleep and ready to tingle as soon as she released it from the clenched fist of the couch and her leg.

She felt groggy, her power nap turned to a full four hours of sleep. September did that, sometimes.

A car drove past her house and its moving headlights illuminated Dana’s living room from side to side. The large – and mostly unused – dining table was covered in notepads, loose sheets of paper, pens, mugs and thick, old-looking volumes of magical physics; it had been two months since she had started writing her thesis and she had to admit to herself that maybe, just maybe, she had bitten off a bit more than she could chew.

The little swirling hole of purple energy the size of a coffee mug that peeped from the wall in her fireplace had proved to be of a stranger nature than the usual portals that people talked about. Usually, you would find a tiny, new portal somewhere in your home and you’d find out it took you two blocks over to your neighbour who watches tv too loudly.

That had happened to her friend Eric.

And when she’d found her own little portal, she had been so excited. The perfect theme for a simple, textbook thesis. Study the portal, its destination, the parameters of transfer, note down the vathoparadigms and chronotype and poof!, she’d have her work done in no time.

Alas, no, there had been no neighbour who had reported a portal and at this point, it was clear that its twin was nowhere near Dana.

Two months of wrapping her head around a mystery too hard to solve without a bit more than minimal effort, but she was too stubborn to look into something else.

“Alright,” she said to herself. “Let’s go.”

She turned the floor lamp that she had moved from the corner to the fireplace, a long extension cord spooled to achieve that. She sat down on the floor, crossing her legs, picking her notes and grabbing the thin, metal chain that was tied to the low table behind her and whose other end was somewhere else in the universe. Dana hoped.

She started pulling the chain, slowly, to avoid breaking it, even though she had cast a resistance spell on it before sending it off. With any luck, the Dee Navigational Probe she had borrowed from her University would show some results.

So far, the only thing she had gained from all of this was a flower. It took weeks of searching to find a match on it. It was a species native - and exclusive - to a northern mountain range several continents away. 

She stopped pulling the chain for a second, lost in thought. Her voice had gotten deeper, a change she had gladly welcomed. It was a thing she had always wanted, she found it ‘sounded more like her’. She also felt that her body had gotten more – angular? Not that she minded. In fact, when she looked at the mirror, it looked nice.

She pulled the chain again and the little white marker on it told her that she was getting close to the probe.

“Oi!” a distant voice yapped.

Dana looked around and found no one. Someone from the street maybe?

“Oi, you, with the thermometer-looking thingy.” It sounded closer now. 

Dana leaned forward, hands on the floor, perching on her elbows. “Who the –”

“You’ve been tossing your little machines and cutting my flowers for a while now. Could you stop?”

“I –” Dana felt her head spin. A destination! She was this close to learning what she needed. “I’m sorry!” she said. “I thought this was in the wild? I was trying to gather data and I hadn’t received any response until now.”

Silence.

Had she lost her correspondent?

“I s’pose,” the voice said, “I’ll accept your apology –”

“Thank you! Than–”

“If you properly introduce yourself.”

Dana pushed herself upright, then leaned back down, excited like a puppy, and knocking down the lamp in the process. She put it back up.

“D- Dana, I’m Dana,” she said, “I’m writing my Master’s on the congenerities between endostructures and apices in portal travel.”

Silence again.

“That uh, I’m sorry, I was overly specific, that means –”

“That you’re studying how portal shapes define their destinations. I get it, I have some knowledge of this field,” she said. “And how’s that going for you?” She seemed amused, but in an interested way.

“Well, you’ll be proud to know I made first contact!” Dana chuckled.

“Congratulations! This must be a thrilling experience,” the voice giggled in return. “I’m Amy, by the way. It’s nice to meet you Dan.”

“Oh, it’s – it’s Dana,” Dana hesitated.

“I’m so sorry! I misheard you and –”

“And my voice is very deep, huh? Yeah, the portal’s been doing this – and some other trickery. I don’t mind to be honest, though” Dana shrugged and then realised Amy could not see her do that.

“Oh,” Amy said, “I uhm – I know how that feels.”

“Oh?” Dana accidentally mimicked, in response.

“It seems that the portal does that. But if I’m being honest, I’m happy it’s happened. Or, well, it’s happening. It’s not like you can pick this kind of thing up at the grocery store, if you know what I mean.” Amy paused for a minute, during which Dana just patiently waited. She felt a knot in her stomach, some part of what the mysterious woman from the portal was saying felt… familiar.

“Anyhow!” she snapped them both back to reality, “I can’t stay much longer, I have chores to tend to. But if you need information on my side, we could meet later?”

Dana straightened herself up and remembered that she was, after all, supposed to gather data and write a thesis. “Yes! Absolutely, that sounds wonderful. When would be ok for you?”

“I’m not sure what time it is over there, let’s say in –” Amy stretched the last word, “In seven hours? I’ll be sure to be done by then.”

“That’s uh, pretty late here. Two am. But I can set an alarm.”

“Jeepers, that’s late! We can do this later, you don’t want to mess up your sleep schedule.”

Dana glanced at the blanket on the couch and the pillows on the floor. “No, that’s ok. Promise.”

“Ok then,” Amy chirped, “It’s a date.”

It was October, the street was carpeted with red and orange leaves, the sky was gloomy and the pitter patter of the rain added music like the electrified air added effect.

At six in the morning, Dana sat on a pillow on the floor, with a mug and a teapot.

“What did you choose this time? It smells delicious.” Amy said. The portal had grown a bit larger and had gone from walnut-sized to CD-sized. 

“It’s called Apple Pie Oolong, it has pecan and, well, apple.” Dana waited for Amy’s hand to cross the portal with an empty mug of her own and poured the tea in it. “Alright, you can go,” she told her.

The hand disappeared and came back a few moments later with a handkerchief wrapped around something. “Here,” she said, cheerfully.

“Thanks!” Dana picked the little bundle and opened it as Amy’s hand went through the purple circle again, leaving ripples in its centre. Five, perfectly round biscuits, still warm and with a delicious scent presented themselves to Dana, making her salivate.

“Holy cow, Amy! These look amazing.”

“They taste amazing too,” Amy giggled. “Thanks,” she added, her voice a bit shy.

The three small pumpkins on the fireplace mantle stared down at Dana, uncarved but intense all the same.

“Say, uhm, Amy –” she felt her voice choke in her throat. “Are you doing something for, uh – Halloween?”

“I was thinking pumpkin pie,” Amy said. “Why?”

“I thought we could, maybe, that we could spend it together? You know, since you’re isolated because of your research and I ehm, I – Well, I would like to spend it with you.”

During their many meetings, they had gotten to know each other better. Amy had told Dana that she was working on an engineering research and had had to move all the way to this remote little corner in the mountains to conduct her experiments. Witches often did end up working by themselves. That, or in little groups of three.

“Wasn’t that what we were going to do anyway?” Amy asked. “You were talking about Halloween so often I just assumed – Oh, I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

“No! No, no, no, absolutely not, you were right, I hadn’t asked you but I wanted to.” Dana stammered and spluttered until she heard Amy laugh softly. “Oi, don’t make fun,” she complained, jokingly.

“You are adorable,” Amy said, still a smile clearly bending her lips.

“Shut up, you.”

“What are you going to dress up as? I’m planning to go as Sybil Leek.”

“I thought Flamel, maybe.”

“Oh, fun. You’ll make a wonderful Nicolas, I’m sure.” Amy sounded excited

Dana tried to reply but found that her voice had left her. After almost a minute of silence, Amy called to her. “Dana? Is everything alright?” When she hear Dana breathe louder, she stuck her arm through the portal once more and tapped the carpet, looking for her.

Dana took her hand and squeezed it.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say. “This is weird, I thought it would be fun to lean into my transition and dress up as a man, but –” she stopped again, words jumbled in her brain.

“But it feels a bit too real, and you’re scared,” Amy suggested softly.

Dana squeezed her hand. “Yes.”

“It’s not weird, sweetie. If someone can understand, it’s me. It was easier on me because I already knew who I was. But maybe you still have to figure that out. And I know it can be confusing, but I will help you. I’ll be here anytime you need.”

“Can I ask something of you?”

“Of course.”

“Could – could you help me find a name?”

Mid November was stormy and turbulent. Matthew was busier than ever and his professor kept on insisting that he expand his research to study the anomaly. He kept on reminding her that it would have taken him two years to study that and that he was happy to leave this job to anyone else, after he was done with his part.

It had been harder to meet with Amy, too. She had been called to the nearby village to deal with an outbreak of Crim Primarosa, nothing dangerous, but very time consuming. The little time she was left with, she had to dedicate to her research.

But she had kept her promise: whenever Matthew had had a question, a doubt, a fear, she would find a way to talk to him, to help him with what he was going through. Sometimes they managed to meet, sometimes they had to leave notes.

Matthew sprinted from the bus stop to the front door of his house; the mere ten or eleven seconds it took him to cross the street were enough to get him completely drenched in the pouring rain. He fumbled in his wet pockets, looking for the keys with slippery fingers.

“Come on, come on,” he grunted.

He was late. Not by much, but lately, twenty minutes were enough to miss each other.

As he got in, he kicked his shoes off without stopping and dropped his jacket on the floor, running to the centre of the living room and sliding into a halt with his socks.

“Amy!”

‘Oh’ he thought. There was a pouch on the floor, by the fireplace. He sat down and opened it.

 

Dear Matthew, I’m sorry I couldn’t be here today. A tree is threatening to fall on my roof because of the strong winds that have been bothering us lately. Blasted thing almost dropped a branch on my head this morning. I miss you and I hope that we can have our date soon. Mr Marigold has promised to teach me how to make a boar and berries stew and I can’t wait to try it out for you. I’m sure with this recipe I’ll beat your soup! (It was delicious, I dreamt about it on Wednesday.) I hope you’re taking care of yourself and I’ll be waiting to hear from you. 

Love, Amy

P.S. I hope you like my present.

 

Matthew held the page to his chest and turned the pouch upside down. It dropped a tiny flask containing a glittery, blue powder and a thin label tied to it said “bath salts”.

Matthew sneezed.

Maybe a warm bath after getting soaked like that was not such a bad idea. He walked upstairs and opened the faucet of his bathtub. He thought about Amy and wondered whether he should worry about the tree and her roof. He told himself there would be no need; she was strong and resourceful, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious to talk to her again and know she was alright.

When the tub was half full, he opened the flask and poured its contents in. The water immediately turned indigo, then it swirled into all shades of blue. The whole bathroom was flooded in sparkles and a sweet scent of violet pervaded the air.

It was such a pretty spell, Amy always knew how to make him feel better.

He got ready to dip.

His body was newer to him, almost everyday. He saw the effects of the portal and felt that somehow, it had known who he was before he did.

It was cold outside, the snow had started falling a week before and now all the roofs in the city were white. Matthew slept on the floor, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. It was morning and a soft, clear light illuminated the room. Letters from Amy, the ones he had not carefully put away yet, lay on the floor around him, next to photographs of her, her garden, the apple pie she had baked.

She looked beautiful, radiant, kind. Her long, wavy, blond hair framed her round face, her cheeks were pink and looked as soft as clouds and her green eyes pierced Matthew in the heart each time he looked at her picture.

Matthew’s chest raised and lowered at a slow rhythm. His long eyelashes twitched every few breaths, when his dreams got more vivid. 

He had fallen asleep after a long night of talking together, sharing dreams and wishes.

He had told her he wanted to spend Christmas together. It was the 24th of December and their plan was to have lunch together, by the fireplace. 

The portal had not changed its size anymore and besides passing each other treats and messages, and holding hands, they had not been able to use it to be closer to each other.

Matthew stirred when Amy’s voice called his name, tenderly.

“G’morning,” he mumbled. He sat up and straightened his festive sweater. 

“Did you sleep well?” Amy asked?

“Wonferfully,” he lied. The floor was not the most comfortable place in the house. “You?”

“Oh, I didn’t sleep,” she said. “I was too close to finishing my research.”

“On Christmas?”

“Wanna see?”

He wobbled on the pillow, preparing to see something come out of the portal. “Yeah, of course!”

“Ok, ready!”

A weird tool peeped in through the purple circle. Matthew squinted but didn’t recognise it. It twirled and beeped, then dove right back where it had come from.

“Was that i–”

Before he could finish speaking, a wave of lilac light flashed through the whole room, the portal whooshed and in a second, it grew to cover the whole wall in the fireplace.

A bushy, blond head appeared, followed by a pair of shoulders, and the rest of her stepped out, crouching to fit her tall figure through the magic circle.

Amy held out her hand to Matthew, who stared up, incredulous, at the girl he’d fallen in love with.

“Merry Christmas,” she said, cheerfully. “Let’s go, lunch is ready.”

She held out her hand to him and he grabbed it, as she led him through, her hair flowing behind her like waves of gold that smelled like violets.

Matthew walked behind her, still stunned. His stomach felt warm, like when a cat lays on you and curls up to nap. As he crossed the swirling pool of magic, he felt electrified, but maybe it was because Amy was squeezing his hand. They slipped out of the portal and into a snowy garden, tall trees covered in ice, a small cottage just a little way away, white smoke puffing out of the chimney. The sky was pink, fading into the softest, lightest blue, and the air sparkled.

Matthew gently pulled Amy’s hand and spun her to look into her eyes.

“Merry Christmas indeed.”