“Maya!”
Maya’s best friend Lacey came racing down the sidewalk and caught her in a hug.
“Hey, I wasn’t sure you were coming. Taylor is here…” Lacey trailed off, realizing Maya was staring intently into the rose garden in front of the church.
Maya had been dragged to Hospitality Night since she was a baby. In elementary school, she thought it was a major holiday, like Halloween or July 4. As she got older, she realized it was a Laguna thing. For her it was still significant, even if it was just a small town event—Hospitality Night meant it was time to start searching for elves in Laguna Beach.
Oh sure, she knew it was farfetched. She had barely allowed herself to believe it when she had her first elf sighting at age 6, in this very spot. She had seen the elf for a split second—it popped up to peer into the manger, then disappeared behind the nativity scene. She convinced herself it was imaginary.
Then she began to find elves on other nights too. They were everywhere this time of year, if you knew where to look. They roamed the Montage tree lighting, hung out at the Artists Theatre during holiday music concerts, and darted between booths at the Sawdust Winter Fantasy. She wasn’t surprised the adults never saw them—they were too distracted by their chirping cell phones and frantic gift buying.
But last year she turned 12 and the elves disappeared. At 12, it seems a lot of things disappear and other strange and unwanted things appear. She had scoured the town for elves and found nothing, as if her eyes didn’t work the way they did when she was younger. Perhaps puberty could be to blame for that, too.
“Hello? Earth to Maya?” Lacey was used to Maya disappearing in the middle of conversations.
“Sorry,” Maya said quickly, turning her attention back to her friend. “Should we go listen to the band?
They walked toward city hall, weaving their way through the thickening crowds of people awaiting Santa’s arrival on the trolley. Maya kept her eyes low to the ground, scanning carefully, trying not to be obvious.
Now she was 13, which meant her parents had given her permission to roam the streets with friends—her first taste of freedom at Hospitality Night! Of course, they assumed she was looking for boys, not elves. She chuckled, knowing this was the first year her friends were more focused on the opposite sex versus how many sweets they could score from Candy Baron!
Suddenly, there it was. An elf. In plain sight. Right in the middle of the road, trying not to get attacked by a jingle-bell-laden Chihuahua or trampled by the masses.
Lacey jabbed her in the ribcage. Could Lacey see the elf too? Maya looked up with a start.
“Hey,” Nicholas said, looking right at her with a lopsided grin, his sun-bleached hair stuffed under a Santa cap.
She tore her eyes from the elf behind him. “Hey.”
Her heart thumped and she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Then she realized it wasn’t because she’d just seen an elf.
“Want to walk down to the beach with us?” she asked hopefully.
“Sure,” he said.
“Let’s go!” said Lacey.
They turned away from city hall. Maya fell into step with Nicholas with a quick glance behind her. There was no trace of the elf. She wasn’t surprised. As her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, she had a feeling elves might be even harder to find next year.
Sarah Durand lives in Laguna with her husband, three kids, two dogs, one cat and a full fish tank, but no elves to her knowledge.
