Uncle Jake laughed. “Listen kid, you were knee-deep in trouble and you know it. Face it, some of the bad guys have to be handled by adults.”
“Well, I’m a bad guy and you’re an adult. Let’s see how you handle me?” Puck retorted.
“Boys!” Granny shouted. “That’s enough of this nonsense!”
Puck’s face crinkled like he had just smelled a rotten egg. He huffed and shoved his sword back into his belt and then turned toward the exit.
“Where are you going?” Granny Relda asked.
“Away, old lady!” the boy snapped as he thrust the doors open. Before anyone could stop him, Puck was gone. Granny watched after him with worried eyes.
Sheriff Hamstead hobbled over to the group. His overworked belt had broken during the melee and he was having a terrible time keeping his pants up. “Relda, are you and the children OK?”
“Yes, yes, just a little shaken up. Was anyone hurt?”
“Not seriously,” Hamstead answered as he looked around to be sure. “I’ve gotten the mayor, Mr. Seven, and Ms. White to safety and I’m asking everyone to go home.”
“Of course,” Granny Relda said.
“Sheriff Hamstead! How are you doing? It’s been a long time,” Uncle Jake said, hugging the policeman. Sabrina looked over at her sister. Apparently the “hugging thing” that Daphne was always doing ran in the family. Uncle Jake squeezed the man so tightly, Hamstead was unable to stop his pants from slipping down to his ankles, revealing boxer shorts with little pink cupids on them.
“Uh . . . do I know you, mister?” the sheriff said, with his face squished against Jake’s chest.
Uncle Jake stepped back in surprise. “Know me? Of course you know me.”
“Sheriff, this is my son Jacob,” Granny Relda said.
Hamstead quickly pulled up his pants. “Relda, I didn’t know you had another son,” he said.
“Ernest, what are you talking about?” Uncle Jake said. “You don’t remember my brother and me? You caught us cutting school all the time. You took Hank and me down to the jail and locked us in a cell once. You told us that kids who skipped class had to go to prison and break rocks. It scared us half to death. We never cut again.”
The sheriff studied Uncle Jake’s face closely, but it was obvious to anyone that he didn’t recognize the man. “Sorry, son. I have to chase down a lot of truants.”
“But—”
Granny took her son by the sleeve and pulled him toward the exit before he could finish his sentence. “Let us know if you need any help, Sheriff.”
She hustled the family outside and across the parking lot, where they found Mr. van Winkle sound asleep in his cab. Elvis had crawled into the front seat and was also snoring happily with his head resting on the old man’s lap. The sack with the mozzarella-and-pepper sandwich had been torn open and its contents consumed. When Elvis let out a rather loud burp, Sabrina knew it wouldn’t take a detective to figure out who had stolen the cab driver’s lunch.
“You’re not still using cars to get around, are you?” Uncle Jake said. “Why not use a flying carpet or something in the teleportation room? Mirror has all kinds of stuff!”
“I prefer to do some things the old-fashioned way,” Granny said.
Uncle Jake rolled his eyes.
Granny Relda opened the car door and pushed down on the horn.
The cabbie jumped in his seat. “Sweet mother of pearl!” he shouted. “What? Is it over all ready?”
“We’re ready to go.”
Mr. van Winkle rubbed his tired eyes and looked down at Elvis. Then he noticed the remains of his lunch.
“This dog is a menace,” he complained.
The big dog licked his lips with an expression that seemed to say, “Who? Me?”
“Elvis, that’s not very nice,” Granny said. “We’ll stop on the way home and get you something to eat, Mr. van Winkle.”
“And a cup of coffee,” Sabrina grumbled as she climbed into the front seat next to the gassy dog.
By the time Mr. van Winkle pulled the cab into the driveway of the family’s two-story yellow house, everyone was a nervous wreck. Granny shoved a handful of bills into the cabbie’s hands.
“Thanks for the ride,” the old woman said. “And Merry Christmas to you.”
Mr. van Winkle seemed pleased with his tip. “Sure, lady. And remember, the next time you need fast, reliable, and friendly service, call me,” he said as he shoved business cards into everyone’s hands. “But next time the furball stays home.”
Moments later he was gone.
“This place hasn’t changed at all,” Uncle Jake said as he marveled at the little house. “I bet there’s still a dozen Frisbees on the roof.”
“Things don’t change much in Ferryport Landing,” Granny said as she climbed the porch steps to the front door and began to unlock it.
“Wait a minute! I know something that’s different. Why isn’t the house decorated for the holidays?”
The old woman blushed as if she was ashamed.
“When we were kids, this place had so many lights on it you could probably see it from space,” Uncle Jake told the girls. “The electric bill was so thick they had to spiral-bind it.”
“We’ve been a bit busy lately,” Granny Relda explained.
“Well, leave the decorating to me then,” her son said as he reached into his pocket and took out a long, carved wand. “I’ll have this place looking like the North Pole in no time.”
“Jake, I absolutely forbid it,” Granny Relda said, but Uncle Jake ignored her. He held the wand aloft and shouted, “Gimme some Christmas!”
A blinding ray of red-and-green light illuminated the yard. Within the beam Sabrina could see tiny particles moving and rearranging into solid objects that zipped across the lawn and grew in size. Suddenly, two enormous inflatable snowmen appeared in the center of the yard. A row of ten-foot candy canes lined the driveway all the way to the end. Red ribbons encircled the porch banisters and a mechanical Santa Claus in a shiny sleigh landed on top of the house. An odd, robotic “Ho, Ho, Ho!” blasted out of its mouth. Lines of multicolored blinking lights entwined every tree, bush, and shrub. Even poor Elvis found himself wrapped from head to toe in twinkling lights.
Daphne ran to a candy cane, sniffed it, and then gave it a lick. “Uh, hello! This is real!”
Granny rushed to Elvis’s side and did her best to free him from his holiday-inspired bonds while Jake led the girls into the house.
“That takes care of the outside,” he said. He handed the wand to Sabrina.
“Want to give it a try?”
Sabrina eyed the wand carefully. Just holding it sent a charge through her like nothing she had ever felt. This simple stick of wood packed a lot of power and Sabrina could feel it all the way down to her toes.
“What do I do?” she asked.
“Imagine how you want everything to look,” Uncle Jake said as Granny finally entered the house. “And then ask for it.’”
Sabrina closed her eyes, nodded to herself, and then aimed the wand at the living room.
“Sabrina Grimm, I absolutely forbid it!” Granny cried, but she was too late again.
“Gimme some Christmas,” Sabrina said, and the light blasted out of the wand. The rearranging particles twisted and turned into forms that eventually became a beautiful white-needled tree, covered in shiny bulbs and lights, showered in tinsel, strung with popcorn garlands, and topped with a gleaming angel. Mountains of presents were tucked underneath. A choo-choo train raced from room to room on a track and Bing Crosby crooned “White Christmas” from a stereo exactly like the one Sabrina and Daphne’s parents had owned in New York City.
“It’s just like home,” Daphne cried happily.
“Jacob Alexander Grimm!” Granny fumed. She raced over to Sabrina and took the wand out of her hand. The little charge Sabrina had felt from the wand was gone and she immediately wished she could get it back.
“Oh, Mom, don’t be a humbug,” Un
cle Jake said. “It’s the girls’ first Christmas in the house. It should be memorable.”
“I wholeheartedly agree, but I don’t think we need magic to do that,” Granny said as she put the wand back in her son’s hand. “One of the special things about Christmas is that the family decorates the house together.”
“Says you! Why do something in days when you can do it in seconds?”
Granny shook her head as if to say she was disappointed that Uncle Jake didn’t understand.
The morning slipped into afternoon and finally into evening as Uncle Jake told one hair-raising story after another of his many adventures. The girls hung on his every word; even Granny was fascinated with her son’s tales and eventually decided to order pizza for dinner rather than miss another of Jake’s stories while she was cooking.
“So how come we’ve never met you before?” Daphne asked as she helped herself to another slice with pepperoni.
“Well, I haven’t been around in awhile. I’ve been traveling the world and getting into trouble,” Uncle Jake said with a grin. “For a while I lived in Prague with Tom Thumb and then spent some time in India, Russia, Japan, Germany, and even Costa Rica, but lately I’ve been working with the Andersen triplets.”
“Who are they?” Sabrina said.
“You don’t know who the Andersen triplets are?” Uncle Jake said in a way that made Sabrina feel self-conscious.
“Henry chose to keep the children out of the loop when it came to the family business,” Granny Relda said.
“All of it?”
The old woman nodded.
“Where do I start?” Uncle Jake said. “OK, you two are the sisters Grimm because you are descendants of the Brothers Grimm. The Andersen triplets are the descendants of Hans Christian Andersen.”
“So they’re fairy-tale detectives, too?” said Daphne.
“No, not exactly. They don’t investigate mysteries. They hunt and collect magical items,” Uncle Jake said as he retrieved the wand from his pocket. “That’s how I got this bad boy. It’s the Wand of Merlin. I found it at a garage sale in Athens, Ohio. The owner thought it was a back scratcher.”
Granny frowned. “And I suppose that’s how you suddenly just appeared out of thin air.”
Uncle Jake grinned. He stood up, removed a jewel-encrusted belt from around his waist, and placed it on the table. “Nope, I used this.”
“The Nome King’s belt? Where did you get this?” Granny asked.
“That’s not important. What’s important is that I got it, though I think the batteries are dying. I wanted to pop in right next to the troll but this thing put me ten feet above him.”
“Who’s the Nome King?” Daphne said.
“You’ve never heard of the Nome King?”
The girls shook their heads. “Dad didn’t tell us anything. Didn’t we already cover this?” Daphne said.
“Henry forbid them from reading fairy tales, too,” Granny Relda explained.
“He what? That’s crazy. OK, the Nome King is from the Oz books—Ozma of Oz if I’m correct—the third of Baum’s histories. The Nome King was the ruler of an underground kingdom underneath a land called Ev that was across the desert from Oz. I hear it’s all condos and golf courses now. Anyway, Dorothy Gale washed up on the beach there after she fell off a boat.”
“Dorothy is a little accident-prone,” Granny said, rolling her eyes.
“I met her about a year ago. She’s a tornado chaser in Kansas. She’s got nerves of steel. Anyway, Dorothy managed to get the belt away from the little man and it helped her get back to Kansas. It works just like the magic slippers. Imagine yourself somewhere and—bingo-bango!—you’re there!”
“And it runs on batteries?” Sabrina said, not quite sure if her uncle was pulling her leg.
“Yeah, twelve of the big ones and they get drained pretty fast. It costs me almost thirty bucks every time I use this thing—even if it’s just to pop up across the street.”
“You could always walk,” Granny muttered.
“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” Uncle Jake said with a laugh. “Still antimagic?”
“I’m not antimagic. I just think it makes people lazy and is very addictive. Before you know it, all you can think about is magic rings and wands and flying carpets.”
“That reminds me of a funny story. Once Hank and I got the magic carpet out and—”
“Why don’t we use the belt to find Mom and Dad?” Sabrina interrupted.
“Sorry, ’Brina,” Uncle Jake said. “You have to know an exact location. But don’t worry, Jake Grimm is on the case. We’re going to get your parents home in no time. That’s why I came back to town.”
Sabrina grinned from ear to ear.
“It’s getting late and we all need our rest,” Granny said. “We can start back up on this trip down memory lane in the morning.”
“What about Puck?” Daphne said, tossing a slice of pizza into the air for Elvis to catch in his hungry jaws.
“He’ll be back when he’s ready. The boy has slept outside most of his life. He’ll be fine,” the old woman assured them. “Jacob, I’ll get some blankets and a pillow for you. You can sleep on the couch tonight.”
“Why can’t I sleep in my own room?” Uncle Jake complained.
“It’s not your room anymore,” the old woman said. “I gave it to Mirror after you left.”
“You gave my room to the magic mirror?” Jake cried. “He doesn’t need his own room. You could put him in a closet and he wouldn’t care.”
“Come along, lieblings,” the old woman said, ignoring her son’s complaint.
The girls climbed the stairs to bed, stopping in the bathroom to wash their faces and hands, and brush their teeth. Daphne slipped into her favorite pair of footy pajamas, then helped Sabrina put on an old T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. The sisters crawled into bed.
“Can you believe we have an uncle?” Daphne said.
“I can believe just about anything with this family,” Sabrina answered. “I wonder why Dad never told us about him.”
“I guess he was trying to protect us from all of this, but . . .”
“But what?”
Daphne pointed at a photo hanging on the wall. In it, two boys sat on a steep hill overlooking the Hudson River. Sabrina knew one of the boys was her father and had always assumed the other was a childhood friend. Looking at the second boy closely, she saw the now familiar quirky grin. “Well, there’s only this one picture of Uncle Jake in the whole house.”
“So?”
“So that’s not how a mom acts,” Daphne said. “Think about all the pictures Mom took of us. They were all over the apartment. Since we moved here, Granny’s taken at least a million of us. There are pictures of Mom and Dad, Grandpa, and Mr. Canis all over the place. There’s three dozen of Elvis in the living room alone. Why not Uncle Jake?”
“That is a little odd,” Sabrina said.
“And why isn’t there a journal for Uncle Jake on the shelves? It seems like Granny was trying to hide him from us,” Daphne said. “She went to a lot of trouble to make it seem like he was never born.”
A tap on the window woke Sabrina. Unsure if she had imagined it, she lay in bed until she heard it again. Puck! He lost his keys and needs me to let him in the house. She climbed out from under her blankets and went to the window. When she peered out she saw her father and mother standing in the yard below. Sabrina tried to open the window but couldn’t, quickly remembering that Mr. Canis had nailed it shut for their protection shortly after the girls arrived.
“Daphne! Wake up!” Sabrina shouted but the little girl was sound asleep. From past experience, Sabrina knew that sometimes her sister was impossible to wake, so she raced out of the room alone.
Down the stairs she went, two at a time. Without bothering to put on shoes or a coat, she darted out the front door and around to the side of the house.
“Mom! Dad!” she cried, as she turned the corner and ran smack into something
enormous. She fell to the cold ground and looked up. The Jabberwocky was standing over her. On each of its disgusting hands was a puppet, one sewn to resemble a man with blond hair and the other a woman with raven locks, crudely similar to her parents. Sitting on the beast’s shoulders was Little Red Riding Hood.
Sabrina crawled backward across the frozen grass, desperate to get away. The Jabberwocky tossed its puppets aside. Reaching down, it snatched Sabrina off the ground and dragged her close to its thousand gnashing teeth. Red Riding Hood leaned down and smiled as if they were great friends.
“I want to play house,” the little girl said. “And when I want something, I get it.”
That’s when Sabrina woke up.
Her pajamas were soaked with sweat and her head was pounding. She looked around the bedroom to double check that she was indeed awake and fought the urge to cry.
She awkwardly crawled out of bed and tiptoed across the floor, then slipped into the hallway. She crept down the steps and into the living room where her uncle was sleeping on the couch. His overcoat, with its hundreds of pockets, was draped over the back. Sabrina knew that Little Red Riding Hood’s medical file was in one of them. She could wait for her uncle to wake, but time was wasting. She stepped softly to the couch and lifted the long coat. She quickly found the file, but before she could grab it and hurry back upstairs, Uncle Jake’s hand seized her arm.
“You’re good,” he said.
“Let me go,” Sabrina said.
“You missed the creaky beam on the bottom step. I could never get around that. Your grandmother caught your father and me more times than I can count because of that last step,” he said.
Sabrina tried to pull away from his grasp but he held on.
“You could have just asked for it,” he continued. Her uncle reached into his overcoat and removed Red Riding Hood’s rolledup medical file. He released Sabrina’s arm and handed her the file.
“I couldn’t trust you’d give it to me.” Sabrina tried to explain. “Granny keeps telling me all this Red Riding Hood stuff is too dangerous. I figured you’d just say the same.”