A Letter to the Giftmaker - Chapter 25

Edwin followed Mr. Morris back into the grand foyer. His eyes weren't looking up at the majesty hidden in darkness this time, but instead down at his own worn shoes that shuffled across the marble. He rubbed his hands against the cold fabric of his pant legs as a dozen thoughts flitted across his mind like the snowflakes in the blizzard outside.

This was it. All his mistakes—his failure to charge the young mother, his keeping the wishpaper, his stealing of the gold coin, his anger at Harriet, his forcing his friends through a snowstorm—would be punished by the Giftmaker.

Each step left a wet footprint on the marble floor. Surely that was worth punishing as well.

Hopefully Jo and Harriet knew he would take the blame.

Mr. Morris led them deeper into the mansion. Perhaps they were headed not to a workshop or office, as Edwin had originally thought, but to some dungeon. A dark, dank place where rats skittered and–

He shook his head to dislodge those thoughts. No point in panicking. He would simply tell the Giftmaker the truth. In order to become the good, charitable person he wanted to be, he would start with honesty.

Mr. Morris stopped outside of a plain door. Edwin was so distracted by his thoughts he nearly collided with the short man. Jo did run into him, and Edwin's feet slid slightly on the marble.

An exasperated sigh. "You may address him as Giftmaker or Sir. Do not touch anything. And do not question him, for his decision is final." Mr. Morris opened the door.

Edwin wasn't sure what he was expecting. Perhaps the cheery, plump man that he imagined from his childhood, bent over a wooden toy in a workshop full of scattered tools and shavings of wood. Or maybe the more recent vision from the past few minutes of a severe man like Mr. Pittman, arms crossed and that perpetual frown deepening into a full glower.

Instead, an old gentleman sat with his hands folded behind an ornate mahogany desk and looked at them with the kindest eyes. They were a dark brown, like the comforting sweetness of molasses, and seemed to instantly see all of Edwin. The eyes sat above a neatly trimmed mustache of white, which itself draped over a gentle smile.

"Please, sit." The Giftmaker gestured to three chairs laid out on the opposite side of the desk.

The command was so gentle and inviting that Edwin found himself immediately in the chair. Jo and Harriet sat at the same time, clearly also compelled.

The Giftmaker slid three glasses across the top of the neat desk. In each was a steaming, golden drink. The sweet smell of warm apples mixed with the calming hint of cinnamon and bite of ginger. Edwin could feel himself salivating.

"Drink, please." That comforting smile again.

Was it manipulation? Maybe, but Edwin was so cold and the cider smelled so good, he still drank. The warmth spread through him, snaking down his throat to his belly, then radiating out through his veins. He let out a soft sigh.

Jo also drank heartily, but Harriet merely twirled the glass between her fingers. She glanced at Edwin, then at the Giftmaker, before taking a hesitant sip. Her shoulders relaxed as the comfort washed over her, but she still refrained from taking a second sip.

The Giftmaker eyed each of them, and Edwin got that same feeling that those kind eyes were looking into his soul. It wasn't a judgment, just a deep observation. "So, you three have come a long way to see me, it seems."

Edwin nodded. "I had a letter to send, on wishpaper, but it was delayed."

"Tell me your story." He leaned back and gently stroked his mustache.

After a deep breath, Edwin began to tell the story. From being fired, to finding the wishpaper, to running into Harriet at the postbox.

"It's my fault," Harriet interjected. "If I hadn't been pretending to be an apprentice letter carrier, his letter would've been picked up."

The Giftmaker eyed her. "You know that admitting that means you will be blacklisted from working for the postal service."

She nodded slowly. "I know. I want to be a letter carrier, but... but this is a fair punishment."

Edwin swallowed hard. He wanted to defend her, but he remembered not to argue with the Giftmaker. Instead, he continued their story. From the train journey, the evening in the square, to their long journey today all the way to the cliff in the forest.

"That's when I lost my grip on the letter. It flew off into the night." He took a deep breath to finish. "I couldn't let my friends–" Jo looked over with a smile. "–get frostbite. So we came here."

The Giftmaker leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him, as he looked between the three of them. "I cannot answer a letter that isn't here."

"I know," Edwin said. "I don't expect you to." He slouched back, hiding his hands in his pockets.

The Giftmaker straightened up, adjusting his tie. "If there is nothing you need from me–"

"Wait!" Edwin had felt that tiny scrap in his pocket. He pulled it out, the wishpaper shimmering in the light from the office fireplace.

The Giftmaker's eyes lit up. "Ah, you do have something."

Edwin read it again. 'My job back.' This could all be fixed. Things could go back to the way they were, with him at Pittman's grocery, Jo with his stewarding, and Harriet...

He looked over. She was slouched in her chair. Her fingers twirled the half-full glass of cider. Her eyes were dull and darkened beneath the wide brim of her hat.

"Hey." He nudged her shoulder.

"What?" She continued to stare at her glass.

"Deliver this for me, please?" He held out the scrap of paper. "You're the only one I can trust."

She took the scrap. "I'll get to make one delivery at least." She stood slowly and walked around the desk. "Sir, a letter for you."

As the Giftmaker's fingers touched the wishpaper, it began to glow. It filled the room with a gold and silver shimmering light. Edwin squinted against it for a moment, before everything faded away.

"Your wish is granted." The Giftmaker smiled at Harriet.

"Uh, what?" Harriet blinked, confused.

"This letter was not signed, and you gave it to me. Therefore, your wish is granted. You may have your job as a letter carrier."

"I- what?!" She stumbled back a step, her mouth wide open. Her eyes darted over to Edwin. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

He should have felt regret, but instead he chuckled. "This was what I wanted."

Jo stood up and clapped Harriet on the back. She looked between all of them, her eyes wide and her mouth flapping like a landed fish. "I... I..."

"I forgive you Harriet." Edwin felt the words ring true deep within him.

She collapsed in the chair. "Wow..."

The Giftmaker turned to Edwin. "That was an incredible thing you did."

Edwin shook his head. "No, just what friends do. It'll serve her better than me."

"Do you want anything?" The Giftmaker grinned. "You traveled all this way. Even if it's not guaranteed, you could still ask."

A million options ran through Edwin's head. Money, power, fame, food, clothes. Any of those would have been amazing two days ago. He smiled as the answer came easily. "I want to spend Christmas with my friends."

The Giftmaker smiled back. "A wise choice, lad."