“It’s my boss.”
“What does she want?”
Mattie raised her phone and read the text. “‘We need to talk. We’re getting some interesting comments on your social media posts.’” She flipped her phone over again like she was hiding from the message. “I’m busted. She knows. Somebody must have recognized Santa’s Village from the crime scene photos and ratted me out. Maybe we can repaint all the pieces in a different colour palette to disguise them.”
“I think you’re taking it a bit far. This could be a good thing.”
“When have the words ‘We need to talk’ ever been a precursor to a good conversation?” she asked.
He couldn’t argue with her on that.
When they finally pulled into the Caribou Campground, their bad luck streak broke. The friendly attendant at the front gate assured Dave that his reserved camper spot was still waiting for them. Dave pulled into a spacious drive-through site and was relieved to see that there was more than enough room for the van and the trailer without blocking any lanes.
Mattie bolted for the bathroom block, towel in hand, before he put the van in park. When she returned, she was wearing the first smile he’d seen in three hundred kilometres. Fat drops of water dripped from her nose and from the end of her wet ponytail. She patted her face with the towel. “Great news. First, the showers are clean and have decent water pressure. Second, a woman in the bathroom said there’s a pizza place that will deliver right to the campground. My treat tonight. What do you want? I can order an extra-large Hawaiian, or you can get your own.”
He choked at the thought of pineapple on his pizza. “Pepperoni and sausage with green peppers, please.”
“Great, I’ll order. I can finish setting up the campsite if you want to have a shower,” she offered.
The cool water washed away his headache. By the time he got back, he saw that Mattie had already set his folding chair in the shade of the van. He kicked his feet up, tilted his head, and closed his eyes. Then he pulled a loonie from his pocket and ran it through his fingers, balancing it on the back of his hand and pinching it in place when he displayed empty palms to his imaginary audience. When he heard a gasp, he opened his eyes to see a pair of young twin boys watching him from the next campsite. A quick look past them revealed that the boys’ dad was watching them watch Dave’s magical practice.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
They nodded like bobble-head dolls.
Dave stuck his hand into his pocket and came up with another loonie. “Want to see another trick?” When they nodded again, he rose to his feet and walked over to them. “I’ll bet your dad makes you have a bath every night, right? Does he make you wash behind your ears?”
“I don’t like it,” the twin on the left said.
“Let me see if you need to wash them tonight.” Dave palmed one of the coins and examined the child’s ear. With a smooth movement, he ended up holding a loonie between his thumb and forefinger. “Holy smokes, how did that get there?” He handed the kid the dollar. “Should I check your brother’s ears too?” Dave pulled a loonie from the second child’s ear and sent them both back to their father begging for a bath.
“That’s pretty smooth,” Mattie said from behind him. Her brown ponytail was almost dry already. She had a recyclable bag hanging from one arm and was holding a pair of pizza boxes. His heart overflowed with gratefulness when she passed him a beer. “They delivered this, too.”
“I love Saskatchewan.”
The pizza and beer didn’t last long. Dave turned his chair so both he and Mattie faced west. They watched the sun slowly sink toward the horizon, but it took its own lazy time. They enjoyed a comfortable silence as he handed her a bottle of water. “I think that the last time I was in a campground, I was fifteen years old and on a family vacation. All the cousins got our own campfire. We ended up playing Truth or Dare.” He chuckled. “So many big talkers ended up chugging hideous, off-brand cream sodas instead of choosing Truth.”
“To be fair, teenagers have no fear of asking horribly inappropriate questions to embarrass each other,” Mattie said.
“Do you think we’d do any better now? I’ll go first. Truth or dare: you work for Christmastown. Is Christmas really your favourite holiday?”
He laughed when Mattie choked and spilled water down her top. “Dude! Way to start off easy. Don’t tell my bosses, but no. Christmas is my second-favourite holiday. My favourite is Thanksgiving.”
“Not Hallowe’en?”
“It’s already too cold by the time Hallowe’en rolls around. At Thanksgiving, you still have some of the fall flowers and coloured leaves on the trees. The last of the harvest is coming into the farmers’ markets. And you get a much better selection of pies. Pumpkin, of course, but you can still get apple and maybe a late berry or rhubarb pie. Plus, the corn mazes are still fun and don’t have people with chainsaws jumping out at you.”
When she shivered, Dave realized it wasn’t an idle observation. “Bad date?”
“The worst! He shoved me and ended up tripping me so he could get away. There was no fourth date, let me tell you.”
“Brutal. I would totally allow myself to be dismembered by a chainsaw-wielding maniac to protect my date.”
“I’ll bet you would. My turn,” Mattie announced. “Truth or dare: is being Dave the Magnificent as cool as you’d hoped it would be?”
Dave dropped his empty pizza box on the ground. “I’m tempted to take a dare on this one. I love doing magic. What I didn’t realize is that being Dave the Magnificent is at least fifty percent administration, which I am not enjoying at all. I thought I was working hard lining up five shows in August, but if I want to make a living doing this full time, I need to at least double, if not triple that number. But that will double or triple the amount of time I need to spend making contacts and bookings instead of practicing and learning new tricks. That’s not even including figuring out how to advertise.”
“Does that mean you’ll have to go back to being a mechanic?”
