Emily Follows the Elf by Ed Kratz

Emily’s in bed one night, brooding about her manager’s warning that Emily’s too aggressive, and thinking if she was a man, she’d be called ambitious, when there’s a puff of smoke, and an elf appears.

“Excuse me,” the elf said. “How would you like to be a fairy godmother?”

She thought about that day at work. Too aggressive indeed.

The intruder kept his eyes on her, like he was interested in her answer. Emily figured, Fairy Godmother. Hey, how bad could it be?

“Yes,” she answered, and the elf smiled, like he was happy with her decision, like she mattered.

So, she became a fairy godmother. She had a month of intense training run by staff in suits. Who would have guessed?

Now she’s got her first assignment.

She tells them she wants to reconnoiter.

“Reconnoiter?” the suits say.

“Reconnoiter,” Emily says, “Read about it.”

The suit frowns, but Emily notices a slight smile on the face of a nearby elf. Maybe they’re tired of the status quo.

So, she does some research, and as she suspected, things aren’t the same. First, the evil stepmother, Estelle, isn’t the stepmother. She’s an aunt who has adopted the orphaned Cindy.

The deal is Cindy’s a rich orphan. A very rich orphan. Cindy gets it all when she turns twenty-one. But if she dies before twenty-one, Estelle and her two daughters, Angel and Harmony, get it all.

You don’t have to be Miss Marple to figure out what is afoot.

Emily says she’s ready. But she has her own plan.

The suits aren’t happy, but again, those elves smile.

Emily nods to the elves and it starts.

Emily pops up invisible in Estelle’s bedroom.

 Estelle and her daughters Angel and Harmony are dressing.

Angel and Harmony. Someone has a sense of irony.

Jewelry is scattered like some Tiffany trunk show. The odor of expensive Dior perfume fills the room.

Did Estelle and her daughters take a bath in it? Money buys everything but taste…

Estelle sits in front of her wardrobe mirror, doing a line of coke. “Get ready, girls. Can’t be late for the ball.”

Cindy tiptoes in. Worn blue jeans, a flannel shirt, and a scared expression that looks frozen on. “Aunt Estelle.”

“Cindy, you know not to come in here. “Estelle wheels back and throws a roundhouse at Cindy.

Cindy ducks, but there’s a moment when her right hand comes up.

Good, you’ve got gumption.

Angel and Harmony jump in, coke driving their angry fists.

Cindy doesn’t have a chance. At least not yet.

Estelle pushes them both away.

Mercy?

” Don’t ruin those manicures.” Estelle turns her attention to Cindy. ” Get out of here before you bleed on our jewels and don’t even think about going to the Governor’s ball.”

Hang in there, young lady. Help is on the way.

“And clean the dining room again. “Harmony says. Cindy runs out and they all laugh.

When she’s gone, Angel says, “You know we’ve got to do it soon.”

“Can we stab her?” Both daughters say at once.

Oh, yes, you’re making this easy. You want to kill this kid? Not the typical story. Not at all.

Still invisible, Emily leaves the happy family and finds Cindy in the dining room. Scattered food covers the floor, along with broken Lalique Crystal.

Break nothing but the best.

Cindy’s on her knees. She looks up. 

“I wish someone would help me, like some fairy godmother or something.”

“Hold that thought,” Emily says.

Cindy jumps, dropping a plate. ” Now I’m hearing things. They’re right. I need them to take care of me.”

“I’ll be back,” Emily whispers.

Cindy screams.

Apparently, a disembodied whispering voice is no less frightening than a loud one.

#

A flash in real time. A few moments in fairy time while Emily prepares.

Then she’s back with a pop and a puff of smoke. She’s not invisible. She’s picked her outfit. No stupid white dress or crown. Close cropped hair, black boots and jump suit.

Another smile from those elves. They’re ancient but looks like they’re moving with the times.

“Mother,” both girls scream.

“What are you doing here?” Estelle screams, too.

Lots of screamers here.

Emily stands firm as Estelle approaches. Estelle has had so much work done. Her face looks like it would crack if she smiled. 

 “Get her. You have your knives.”

Two knives flash out. The sisters look like ninjas, dancing and slipping back and forth and readying for the kill.

“She’s unarmed girls. Get her.”

They move in unison like some bizarre dance team.

Emily’s enjoying the faux Bruce Lee. Then she realizes those knives look sharp.

“Ah yes. A gun,” Emily says, and she waves her hand and a gun appears.

“She has a gun,” Harmony shouts.

“Now, how do I use this?”

Estelle’s the brains. “She doesn’t know how to use it. Get her.”

They rush forward.

Emily says “One to the head. Dead. No mess.” She points it at Angel, and Angel goes down, one to the forehead, instantly dead. No mess.

Estelle and Harmony crouch on the floor beside her, wailing.

What a way to come down from Coke.

” I believe you have a will in that safe over there. Behind the Van Gogh.”

“You won’t get away with this. We’ll track you down and kill you. We’ve done it before,” Estelle screams.

Oh yes. Do make this easy.

“Mom” Harmony shouts. Looks like she got what little brains were in the family.

Estelle opens the safe and gets the will. But give her credit. She knows the score, and she makes a last-ditch rush. Two pops and they’re both gone. One to the head. Instantly dead.

Cindy runs in. She looks around. “I heard,” and she sees the carnage. “No. Aunt Estelle. Angel. Harmony.” She starts crying.

“It’s not so bad. Read this.” Emily hands Cindy the will. “You’re rich.”

Cindy holds it. Looks at it. Her sobbing slows and finally stops. “Wow. It’s all mine. But you can’t get away. And they’ll blame me. “

Emily nods. “Planning. A bright yellow Mercedes coach driven by a mousy guy.” She looks out the window. She claps her hands. “So cool. You’ll be in the clear. Everyone will see me get in it and drive away, and then they’ll never see it or me again.” She floats out the open window.

“A thank you would have been nice,” she calls to a stunned Cindy.

#

The director sits before her ornate teak desk, looking intently at her computer.

Still in her black outfit, Emily marches into the room.

The director motions to a straight-backed chair.

Emily turns it around and sits backwards with her legs spread.

The director grimaces. Emily smiles.

“You behaved inappropriately.”

“Things are different now.”

“We do not change.”

“Maybe you should. Little girls and little boys, too, need more aggressive help now.”

“I do not think so.”

“Maybe I don’t care what you think.”

#

The latest intern wears a plastic tiara on her pile of blond hair, and a white lace chiffon dress that rustles in waves as she sits before the new director, Emily, who is still dressed in her black outfit with her short hair and her boots.

“I’ve always wanted to help children.”

Emily stands up and stomps before the intern. “First off, lose the gown and the tiara. Things are different now.”

“Lose the gown?”

“We’ve made some changes. How are you with a Glock?”

Ed Kratz

Image by Victoria from Pixabay A puff of smoke – this was an image that was heavily edited. Thank you Victoria