Bauble, Bauble, Toil, and Trouble

Despite loving a good ghost story, Noel Cranford was never very superstitious. So, when her grandmother warned her that breaking a bauble while decorating the tree was bad luck, she was quick to brush it off.

Of course, breaking anything expensive and rare was bad luck. Noel had grumbled internally, cleaning up the pieces of her favorite ornament from under the tree.

Before she dropped it, the bauble had perfectly portrayed the four ghosts from A Christmas Carol. To her, it's hand-crafted beauty was unparalleled by any other decoration... Now here she was, sweeping it's remnants into her hand. The silky-green glass was shattered so finely it looked like ghostly starlight, glowing under the blinking tree.

Noel's eyes dampened. Perfect. Just great. She thought, her heart sinking as she wrapped her fingers gently around the last piece. Pulling it out of the tree skirt, she winced when the sharp edge sliced into her pointer finger.

"Oh, now you've done it," Her grandmother clicked her tongue from the rocking chair, knitting with an eccentric smile on her face. "You can kiss your soul goodbye, Noel. You belong to that thing's spirit now."

"Grandma," Noel sighed, fishing out the piece more successfully this time with her other hand. "Not now, okay?"

As she left to toss the pieces away in the garbage, she heard her grandma snicker behind her. The old woman whispered, quite amusedly to herself, "Bauble, bauble, toil and trouble."

A painful bitterness sank in Noel's chest, and she found herself angry. She was frustrated with her grandmother for making jokes, with herself for dropping the one thing most precious to her, and with the universe for reminding her, in such a cruel way, why decorating for Christmas was such a difficult time.

Resentment forced her to the side of the kitchen and made her throw up the lid of the garbage can, "Whatever. It's just a stupid ornament."

But, looking in the black bag, then at the pieces one more time as they sat in her hand, she imagined them lying in the dump and fading day by day under a pile of rubbish. Her finger stung, but the sting of having to say goodbye was much worse.

She couldn't do it.

Instead, she set the pieces down on the kitchen table and grabbed some superglue from the cabinet. Sitting down, she began to sort the pieces back into the picture the best she could. However, as the hours ticked by, and the night darkened the kitchen beyond sight, she didn't find herself any closer to repairing the bauble. She did, however, find herself closer to a mental breakdown.

"This is so stupid. I hate this. I hate Christmas!" Leaning back in the chair, she closed her eyes and groaned. "And I suck at fixing things."

"Tell me about it." A deep voice rejoined her. "You've got me all wrong."

Noel's immediate reaction was to look at her grandmother in the living room. That was the only place a voice could have come from... except her grandmother was asleep in her rocker, head lulled off to the side contentedly.

"Behind you."

She swept around immediately, finding a shadowy figure standing toward the back room. It's shoulder was leaning up against the wall, as if having casually watched her struggle for the last few hours. Noel's blood flowed cold, and she slowly stood up from the table, backing away. The shadow moved closer, exposing it's shining green eyes. Noel knew it was silly, but her gaze darted to the table where the ornament was sitting.

I know that green. She thought, unnerved. Then her eyes returned to the shadow, and the color of its irises were almost identical to that of the decoration. I think I inhaled too much glue.

"How did you get in here?" Her voice shook, and she backed into the part of the kitchen where she kept the knives, "Leave or I'll call the police."

Surfaced from the shadows, the figure was fully revealed to her. Dressed in a suit tailored in dreary blue material, his limbs were long and lean. Noel could see now that his eyes weren't just holly-green but glowing by themselves, as if lit from within. There was a faint green hue to his short dark hair.

Stretching out a ghostly white hand, he pointed to the broken ornament, "You let me in."

She was holding her breath, eyes wide as she realized what he was implying. Her mind raced back to what her grandmother said earlier about losing her soul. When she spoke it was in a gasp, "That's impossible."

"That's the deal. You break it. You buy it." He smiled a crooked smile, "I'm here to collect."

Horror stuck her, and Noel stumbled back further into the cupboards. Her hand rested on the handle of the knife drawer, but she couldn't bring herself to open it. There was something about him, a transparency to his figure when he moved that had her second guessing everything. If she looked closely at him, she could see little shimmering lines cutting through his coat and features. Like a snow globe, there was an iridescent luster that progressed through those little fractures in him. For the second time, Noel wondered if she was hallucinating.

When she didn't budge from the corner of the kitchen the man sighed and took her previous seat at the table. Fidgeting with the shards of glass, and examining her failure of a reconstruction, a frown pulled at the corner of his lips.

"You went through all this trouble." Then that frown was pointed at her in a disapproving, almost offended, way, "For a stupid ornament?"

Yes. She thought sadly, then shook her head, "I must--"

"Please," He interrupted, rolling his eyes exasperatedly, "If you are going to start rambling about how you're crazy or dreaming spare me. This is real. I'm not a dream, and if you are insane, I have nothing to do with that."

"Okay..." Noel replied, chastened and a little insulted by his tone. Hesitantly, she moved to sit on the other side of the table. This was just like A Christmas Carol, a story she had read a thousand times. And if she learned anything from reading ghost stories it was to go along. Resistance only led to more problems, "So, you are...what?"

He simpers, "I figured you of all people would know a spirit when you see one, Noel."

"A ghost?" Noel nods, surprisingly feeling a little relieved that it wasn't a demon or something worse. "Okay. I can work with that."

"Spirit, to be precise."

She takes a deep breath and stares at him from across the kitchen table. The idea was more baffling than she let on, but she didn't want to irritate the one thing that had proclaimed it would collect her soul at some point tonight. So, she decided he should be treated more like a fussy houseguest. She lived with her grandmother; she could handle fussy. What Noel couldn't handle was having her soul snatched from her body by the spirit of a christmas ornament.

A silence descended over them as her thoughts started to spin. Eventually he lifted his arm and checked under his sleeve. She noticed he was wearing a watch and felt her eyes squinting in utter confusion. He noticed and shrugged, "More convenient."

"Are you late for something?" She asked innocently," Because if you have another soul to reap you could just come back for me later."

This cracks a smile, and the spirit chuckles, "Not likely. You're my one and only."

"So then what happens now?" Noel asks, looking around awkwardly. This meeting was starting to feel a little anticlimactic. "Do I just... die?"

Her reaper shrugs, as if he didn't know what he was going to do next, "I guess. If that's what you want." Standing he straightens his coat and holds out his hand to her, "Or you could come with me."

"Where?"

"To fix what broke, of course." He gestures to the ornament laying on the table, drying in a slouching shape due to the glue. "I'm not fond of being homeless, and I certainly am not staying in that after what you did to it."

Standing up, Noel slides her hand into his and a gust of air rips around her body. Before she knows it, she is standing outside a little shop in a town she finds vaguely familiar. In the window is the same exact ornament, gleaming in the window display. A smile blooms across her lips, gazing upon it happily as if seeing the face of an old friend. That is until she feels a presence hovering over her shoulder.

Noel turns her head to peek up at the spirit, who is looking at the orament as well with a parsimonious sort of appreciation. He gazes down at her when he notices her staring and smiles a little. Noel feels the urge to smile back, but then remembers he's here to kill her. So, she throws him a dirty look instead.

This makes the spirit laugh, and he gestures to the door, "After you."

Her hand wraps around the door handle, and a bell jingle as they enter the tiny shop. It was warm inside, and there was a pleasant mix of dust and pine floating in the air. With every step, the threads of nostalgia wrap around her like a warm winter coat. Soft piano music was tinkling from crackling speakers, vintage ceramic christmas decorations were piled in every corner like toys in Santa's workshop, and the glittering lights lining every display evoked a child-like whimsy in her. It was almost as if she had stepped into a memory she had long forgotten.

"Have I been here before?" Noel turned to look at the spirit, making him stop by one of the displays. With the soft light glowing beside him, she could make out more of those little cracks in his face and neck.

He widened his eyes at her, shrugging, but there was an excited air about him. Noel turned back around and continued to weave through the shop. Taking her time, she examined the beauty around her. Afterall, if this shop was going to be the last place she saw before being whisked away to who-knows-where, she wanted to soak it in as much as possible. That was until she heard an impatient huff from behind her, making her roll her eyes.

"Alright, fine. Don't get huffy." She snorted, and went toward the very back of the store, where she could hear talking and rustling.

Approaching the checkout desk, Noel expected to see the attendant waiting to help them... What she saw was something else entirely. Something she had almost forgotten.

A pair of worn work boots, a blue flannel coat dusted with grease and dirt, and the greying hair of an old man. Standing beside him was a little girl with dark hair and brown eyes, wearing a pink puffy coat and sparkly blue mittens. They were watching the attendent wrap each ornament in fresh brown packing paper.

The breath was knocked from Noel's chest. Tears rose at the back of her throat, prickling the corners of her eyes as she watched the little girl take one of the ornaments out of the box and hold it in her hands with such delicacy. Turning to the old man, she smiled, "Look Grandpa! Isn't this one cool!"

Noel knew tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she couldn't move.

The old man smiled tenderly at the little girl and nodded, "That one is my favorite."

"Mine too." The little girl grinned, putting it back in the box carefully, "I love it with my whole soul."

It hit her and, at this innocent comment, Noel turned to look at the spirit. He was already looking at her, a gentle expression gracing the harsh lines of his face. Those green eyes were still glowing, but it wasn't as bright now. Instead, they had softened into a sweet kind of radiance. It made Noel want to wrap him up in a giant hug.

A sentiment he clearly saw, and responded to by narrowing his eyes and faking a shudder, "Don't even think about it."

She chuckled and turned back to watch the old man and the little girl leave the shop. Her heart followed them, knowing exactly what happened after that shopping trip: years of magical Christmases, visits in the summer, birthday parties, graduations, holiday dinners... and eventually a funeral that left an ache in her chest for all the years to follow. Noel smiled, but it shook at the corners as she wiped her tears away.

"Shall we? "The spirit asked, holding out his hand.

Noel nodded and slid her hand into his. Another gust of air and they were back in the kitchen. The ornament was nowhere to be found on the table, and daylight was already breaking through the kitchen window. The two of them stood in the center of the room, staring at each other.

The spirit cleared his throat and pulled the ornament, in pristine condition, from his coat pocket. He gave her a hard, examining look, and said, "Still think it's stupid?"

Shaking her head, she took the ornament from him, smiling, "No."

He smiled a bit, "Still hate christmas?"

She laughed, "No."

"Still love me with all your soul?" The spirit added, a little cheekily.

Noel held the bauble close to her chest, and she couldn't help blushing a bit at the embarrassment of saying it out loud, "Yes."

"Then my work here is done." He nodded, dusting off his hands as if he fixed the ornament himself. Noel supposed, in a way, he did. All the cracks and fissures were gone from his skin, and the color in his clothes and hair were flooded with vibrance.

Straightening his jacket again, the spirit checked his watch and nodded to himself. Then he looked at her with a reluctant sort of fondness. She wasn't fully sure that this hadn't been a dream, and almost said as much. But she didn't want to risk offending him, and in the end, it didn't matter. Everything was right again, and the ornament, and her grandfather's memory, were repaired.

Noel didn't mind his aloofness, she opened her arms for a hug, "One for the road?"

The spirit tried to hide his smile, and rolled his eyes, "Fine. Just... don't drop me again."

She laughed, nodding, "Deal."

With that the spirit dropped his head to the side, looking at the ceiling, and half-heartedly opened his arms, "Get over here."

Noel stepped forward, pulling him in for a hug.... but all she felt was a shiver of cold air and she was left standing alone in the kitchen. Her eyes dropped to the ornament and Noel smiled brightly.

By the time her grandmother woke, Noel was sitting in the chair beside her, reading A Christmas Carol. The old woman startled, "You're still here! I thought for sure it would take you."

Noel flashed her grandmother a mischievous look, "I think you read too many books."

And when the old woman wasn't looking, Noel let her eyes float back toward the ornament, appreciating the face of the fifth ghost, winking at her from the glass.