EXCERPT FROM THE CHRISTMAS CAROUSEL

In The Christmas Carousel, eleven-year-old Rusty learns his beloved grandfather has Alzheimer’s. Rusty wants to buy a special gift to thank Grandpa for giving him a magic brass ring that turns each carousel ride into a time-travel adventure. In this excerpt from the book, Rusty and his mother are on their way to the local shopping center.
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Bored, I looked out the car window. Christmas decorations hung over the street and on the storefronts we passed. Green garlands wrapped around the light poles, and wreaths with red bows hung midway up the poles. A car going in the opposite direction had an evergreen tree tied to the roof.
“Mom, are we getting a Christmas tree this year?” I hated to ask, but I really wanted one. I didn’t want to be the only kid who couldn’t have a tree.
“Maybe a small one. They’re so expensive.”
Ever since Dad’s company let him go, the family budget did not let us have many extras. I tried not to ask for much. Today’s shopping trip was for some bargain Mom said we couldn’t miss because of the super low prices.
Inside the mall, stores played Christmas music, and shop windows had snow painted on the glass. Christmas had arrived at Northern Pines Shopping Center.
I lagged behind Mom, dreading the hours of window shopping ahead. The only good part of the trip would be the center court. Last year, a train for kids rang a bell as it traveled up and
down the walkways. The year before, Christmas tree lights blinked in time to music, and pretend snowflakes fell every hour on the hour. One year, a whole village of tiny North Pole houses and Santa’s workshop filled the center court. Maybe they would have ice skating this year.
As we neared the center of the mall, I heard barking, neighing, and braying mingled with Christmas music. The sounds reminded me of the horses calling to me from the Barnwell Park Carousel. Walking faster, I passed Mom and several other shoppers. I broke into a run, and my heart pounded. The animals were calling for me.
“Rusty, slow down!” Mom shouted.
“Hurry, Mom,” I called over my shoulder.
Once I reached the center court, I skidded to a stop, my mouth wide open. Before me stood a carousel—a Christmas carousel—covered with red and green decorations. Bright lights blinked and flashed across the top of the ride. I counted seven animals rising and falling on candy cane–striped poles. A camel went by, then a reindeer chased by a polar bear, followed by a donkey, a dog, a sheep, and finally a single white horse.
As the carousel circled, I watched the kids riding the animals. They laughed and waved to their family each time they passed. I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling for the brass ring. The sheep bleated as it passed, and I pulled the ring from my shirt. Would the magic work on this carousel with these animals? I had only used the magic ring on horses.
Mom tapped my shoulder. “Come on, honey. The store with the sale is down this way.”
“Mom, wait!” I hurried after her. “I want to go on the carousel.”
“Don’t you think you’re too old for that? Those children all look very young.”
“It doesn’t matter. I really want to go, Mom. Please, please, please.”

“We can stop on our way back,” Mom said. “Look how many children are in line.”
I glanced at the long line of parents with toddlers and youngsters. The oldest kid in line looked to be a first- or second grader, but I didn’t care. I had to see if the magic ring would work on this carousel.
“Please, Mom,” I pleaded. “I promise to do the dishes all week.”
She smiled at me and took another look at the line and her watch. “How much does it cost?”
Blazes! I hadn’t thought about that. I lowered my chin to my chest. It wasn’t free like the carousel at Barnwell Park.
“There’s a sign near the entrance,” Mom said in a soft voice. “Let’s see what it says.”
With a bit of hope, I headed to the entrance, and Mom followed. A sign over the entry point said “Santa’s Christmas Carousel.” A small board listed the price.
“Three dollars per ride,” I read aloud. Would Mom say that was too much?
Mom’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot for a kiddie ride.” Then she pointed to another display with a measuring stick. “You need to be smaller than the mark on that stick. Go stand by it.”
I eyed the stick with its limiting mark and slouched. My head was below the mark by the width of a hair, and I breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time, I was glad to be short. “I can ride!”
Mom opened her purse and took out three one-dollar bills. “Promise me you’ll stay in line. If I’m not back when you get off the ride, stay right here. No wandering away.”
“I promise.” I grabbed the dollar bills. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”
I ran to the entrance, paid the fee, and went to the end of the waiting line. The line moved forward slowly, with only seven riders mounting at a time. This carousel was smaller than the one in Barnwell Park. I counted the kids ahead of me. At least two more times before my turn.
A bell rang when all the kids found their spots on the different animals, and the ride began moving. Standing on my toes, I shifted position to see through the crowd. Which animal should I ride?
***
The story of Rusty’s adventures on the various animals he rides continues in The Christmas Carousel. It is available on Amazon and other online sites where books are sold.
The Christmas Carousel is the second book in the Brass Ring Series. The first book is The Magic Carousel, which covers Rusty’s time-travel adventures on horses. The third book is The Haunted Carousel and includes spooky adventures on Halloween carousel figures. The books are written for middle grade readers, typically those from ages eight to twelve, although adults also enjoy them. Give The Christmas Carousel as a gift or read it to celebrate the spirit of Christmas.

K. L. Small is Secretary for the Citrus Writers of Florida. She writes fantasy stories for young readers and the young at heart. Her books include A Dress To Remember: A Fairy Tale and the Brass Ring Series. She lives on a ranch called Carousel Acres with her husband, two horses, four barn cats, and assorted wildlife. For more information about her writing and to register for her monthly newsletter, visit her website at https://kathleenlsmall.com.