F³ Hat Trick

 

I dropped Cassie off at school, but instead of heading to the office, I went to Nikki’s. The Grind with its grungy, hastily constructed post-Depression facades looked quite at odds with the scattered Christmas decorations. The city only bothered to decorate in Midtown while the Chamber of Commerce sprang for decorations in Fairhaven and Badon Heights. Individual businesses in the Grind did as they pleased. Interestingly, Nikki’s Blackthorn Club sported wreathes and garland on the outside.

That in itself was something, but even going in through her parking garage I found the elevator had similar touches, including white fur trim on the red velvet elevator seat. The festiveness didn’t hold as I wound through the back halls to her apartment, but then a voice from one of the side rooms stopped me before I got there.

“In here, Matthew,” came Nikki’s melodic voice.

I turned into Nikki’s studio. It was suitably messy, disordered with blank canvases and painted ones littering tables and floors. Drop cloths were piled both in neat stacks and ragged lumps all over the place. Nikki wore a painter’s smock and jeans as she pondered the canvas in front of her.

“That trick with the hearing really weirds me out,” I said.

“Perhaps you misattribute it to my senses when it is actually my security cameras.”

“Uh huh. I wish it was that. So what’s got you stumped?”

“And why would you—”

“Furrowed brow, you don’t have your palette, and your hips are cocked. You’re a fist away from doing a standing Rodin’s Thinker.”

“That is a trick that I find even more impressive than my own. I’m afraid that inspiration is a fickle mistress, one that even I cannot easily seduce.”

The canvas wasn’t blank, but it wasn’t easy to tell since most of the canvas was painted white, but I could make out snow covered trees in the background. The foreground, though, held nothing.

“Yeah, I don’t know how to help with that. I just wanted to know if I could coax you into helping me out.”

“With what?”

My voice dropped. “Shopping.”

She looked at me for the first time. “Indeed? I should be happy to . . . is that it?” she pointed to my hat.

“Yup. And you’ll be amazed to see what it can do.”

“Nick imbued it with some of his potent magic? I no longer feel any power emanating from it, nor from you, but such is never anything authoritative. What does it do?”

“Check this out.” I cocked my head to the left, then rapidly flipped it to the right. The puffball on the tip of the hat flipped up and over my head to rest onto my other shoulder. “Impressive, huh?”

Her lips twitched uncontrollably, and then she burst out laughing. “A truly momentous feat, Matthew. Help me change and we’ll begin our epic crusade.”

“It’s just shopping.”

“Not when it’s done with me.”

Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

F³ Wrongness

 

I had reached halfway to my regular fedora on the hat rack next to the garage door when Cassie stopped me.

“Aren’t you forgetting?” she said.

I stopped and shrugged. “Force of habit,” I said. I went back into my bedroom and grabbed the Santa hat from my dresser. I hesitantly put it on, ready for something to happen. Of course, it didn’t.

“Looks good on you,” Cassie smiled.

“It feels wrong.”

“It doesn’t fit?”

“No, it’s a perfect fit, like it was tailor-made for me.”

“Then what?”

“It’s not a fedora. Detectives wear fedoras.”

Cassie rolled her eyes at me as we left the house.

“What? It’s a legitimate complaint.”

 

F³ The Hat

 

“Twas the day after Thanksgiving, the house held no peace

I regretted Black Friday spending, to the delight of my niece;

Cassie danced around the tree, decorating without a care;

While I rummaged through ornament boxes, trying not to swear;

“One of these years,” I promised her there, “I will write it all down.”

Finding my prize, I passed to her, where she set the star on the tree’s crown.

The tree all decorated, and the lights outside glowing;

We settled in to watch Charlie Brown as it started snowing.

When from down the hall there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.

Cautiously down the hall, I wasn’t going to do anything rash,

I peered in my bedroom closet, where I hid my Christmas stash.

High on the shelf a box shuddered and rocked

My wondering eyes did stare, for I was quite shocked.

Down it jumped, losing its lid, a cap inside, a letter tucked in the band.

I sighed and remembered I had agreed to the elf’s demands.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the letter began, “Your dinner was good?”

“Keep the turkey, but send me a slice of pie, if you would?”

I knew from the humor, it must be St. Nick.

I skimmed down a bit, hoping to cut to the quick.

“The season is upon us now; your parole is quite over.

You have a job to do, no time for eating leftovers.

With the cap on your head, Santa’s Helper you’ll be.”

I paused in my reading, sighing loudly, “Why me?”

“Because, Matt, for many years, you’ve been quite nice.

Now you can help the naughty avoid choosing vice.

You can start with someone, who has been very naughty,

Your vampire friend, is she always so haughty?”

“Oh, is that all?” I said with great sass.

I’d forgotten that Nick could be such an —

“Uncle Matt, are you okay?” said Cassie from the door.

“I’m fine, just something I can no longer ignore.

I’ll be out in a minute would you get us some cocoa?”

I went back to the letter, wishing I could veto.

“Unlike the Grinch, whose heart was too small;

He needed only to hear the song’s call.

Not so with the lady, for her heart went dark;

Centuries of anger and strife left their mark.

But in recent years, thanks to you, now a glow

Of the warm girl I remember begins to show.”

Caution! Warning! This is not a game to be played!”

The force of these words made me quite afraid.

“Beware the temptation to tally the score.

For deeds from the heart are never a chore.

For Nice to surpass Naughty is never the goal;

Only that the holiday spirit adds light to the soul.”

There’d be no weighing of souls, no trial;

She would just have to make someone smile

With the holiday joy that all delighted to feel.

The purpose of Christmas was simply to heal.

“Now put on the hat! ’Tis the season to be of good cheer!

For your bonus, I’ll see you before the New Year.”

Out on the porch, Cassie sipped cocoa as the snow fell.

I smiled and hugged her, saying, “All is well.

I’ve a new case, to make this Christmas season merry and bright!”

“Keep it down!” yelled my neighbor, “It’s the middle of the night!”