Chapter 8 The Nutcracker The night was magical.
Christmas Eve always was for Clara Stahlbaum.
In her short seven years on Earth, the brown-eyed little beauty loved no holiday better.
The house was filled with merriment and good cheer.
Holly sprigs hung from the curtains, candles burned in every room and freshly cut pine wreaths greeted visitors at the door.
And in the drawing room, well, that had to be left to Clara's imagination.
Her parents were hosting a party in there, and she and her brother were not permitted to go in until after the grown-ups had left for the night.
Can you see anything?
Clara whispered to her brother, Fritz, his nose pressed up to the keyhole of the drawing room door.
Just a lot of people dancing, the younger one said with disappointment.
I don't think they're ever going to leave.
Clara's sigh matched her brother's.
He was two years younger and she suspected that he was having an even harder time waiting for the party to be over.
He was still new to Christmas Eve and wasn't sure what to expect.
He had just heard magical holiday stories from his older sister.
Are you sure there will be gifts for us tonight?
Fritz asked, his eyes wide with excitement.
Oh, yes, Clara answered quickly.
God, Papa Drosselmeyer would never come here on Christmas Eve without presents for us.
Fritz smiled with relief and put his eye back up to the keyhole, hoping the dancing people might have magically disappeared.
Clara watched him stretch his neck to get comfortable.
The little girl sat down at the table and made a list of the presents she hoped to get this Christmas.
They've turned down the lights.
Little Fritz suddenly shouted, finding it hard to believe the time had finally arrived.
I see the tree.
I can see the tree.
Clara gave her brother a slight nudge, allowing her to look through the keyhole.
Fritz was right.
The candles on the tree were lit and the dance floor lights were dimmed.
Clara clapped her hands with joy when she heard her mother's footsteps near the door.
She and Fritz pulled back and waited for the latch to turn.
Oh, Mother, is it really time?
Clara asked, throwing her arms around her mother's waist.
Can we come into the drawing room now?
Little Fritz did not wait for an answer.
He flew past her through the door.
Wait for me, Clara called, praying no one would stop them.
The two children ran past the last few party guests and right to the tree.
Dozens of tiny candles twinkled there like stars.
All the toys underneath the tree and ornaments hanging from its branches glittered like treasure.
Oh, it's beautiful, Fritz whispered.
It must truly have been one of the most wonderful sights of his life.
Even with all the gifts around, he didn't take his eyes off the towering tree.
Clara, on the other She trembled in delight as she eyed the gifts.
She giggled and clapped her hands and buzzed all around the tree, her eyes taking in all that they could.
She finally decided to stop in front of a large box.
There was a wide bow tied on top and a little card that read Clara.
She carefully pulled it away from the tree and gave it a little shake.
Taking no time to guess, Clara tore the wrapping and opened the box.
She's lovely.
Clara exclaimed as she reached in to find a large porcelain doll with features similar to her own.
The straight hair and dark eyes looked as cute on the doll as on Clara.
She's beautiful, Mama.
I shall call her Miss Clare.
By this point, Fritz had pulled his eyes away from the tree and spotted a tiny army of toy soldiers mounted on white horses.
He let out a holler and pounced on the troops like a cat on a mouse.
The men in the room smiled as Fritz played.
He made a shrill sound as he knocked soldiers down from still horses.
Clara continued opening gift after gift until she had opened them all.
She sat on the floor, Miss Clare in one arm and in the other a silk dress with a ribbon on the front.
Her mother and she watched as Fritz opened the last of his gifts a set of new riding pants for when the new mayor came.
Clare didn't know which her brother was more excited about Christmas Eve or a new horse coming to the barn.
After watching him tear through the presents with glee, she was certain it was Christmas.
The evening was perfect.
Clara thought it couldn't possibly get better when Godpapa Drosselmeyer approached them at the tree.
He had brought along his nephew, a shy young boy.
And how have we done here, children?
Godpapa Drosselmeyer asked, kneeling down beside them.
Clara shouted, wrapping her small arms as far around his neck as she could.
She gave him a squeeze and a big kiss, happier than if she had seen Santa Claus himself.
He was a rather large man with a snow-white beard and snow-white hair.
He wore little glasses when he read and always wore a jacket and a tie.
Clara's favorite thing about him was his smile.
It wasn't that it was so unique, but it was always there.
There Godpapa found pleasure in everything.
The children had always liked him, reaching their tiny hands out to him, even as infants.
This time was no different.
Do you have more presents?
Fritz asked, still staring in disbelief at all his new treasures.
Fritz, you don't ask like that, Clara exclaimed, a little embarrassed.
Fritz was such a young boy, though, and he didn't know better.
The gentleman patted the small boy's head and stood up.
He smiled and pretended he had to think about his answer.
Clara could tell this was a sign that he did indeed have something else for them.
He stepped back and stretched far behind the tree, One hard pull, he presented a large, flat box.
It was decorated with a fancy ribbon.
The box was so large that it now took up most of the room in front of the tree.
Open it, Godpapa Drosselmeyer said to the two children.
Clara had never seen a package quite so big.
The only thing she imagined could be bigger was the mare coming to the barn, but that couldn't possibly be put in a box and kept behind the Christmas tree.
Franz was working on removing the lid way before Clara even came close to untying the ribbon.
When the lid was loose enough, the children each grabbed a side and carefully lifted it.
When they looked inside the box, Clara and Fritz both let out squeals of delight was a shiny golden palace with pointed towers and rows of windows.
Godpapa Drosselmeyer then turned a brass key in a keyhole at the bottom, and the beautiful castle suddenly came to life.
Soldier figurines marched out of the palace and paraded in four straight rows.
Delicate women in exquisite hats and men in their best suits strolled past the castle windows.
There was dancing in the miniature courtyard and a jester on the lawn.
Beautiful princess waved from the balcony trying to get the attention of a prince who was talking to the king and queen.
A lovelier scene couldn't have been imagined.
The children sat staring in fascination for several minutes.
It was finally Fritz who broke the silence after seeing the figures complete the routine several times.
I'm going back to my soldiers, Godpapa, the little boy said with a smile.
Thank you for the gift.
I will watch it more later.
Godpapa Drosselmeyer gave the boy a nod and watched him sit down with his army.
Clara was still interested in the palace and didn't mind sitting for a while longer.
She also didn't want to hurt her godpapa's feelings and leave the playland too soon.
As she sat watching the tiny villagers, she noticed something else hiding far beneath the tree.
It was bright red.
She thought of asking Fritz to slide under and get it for her, but then thought better of it.
She didn't want to take him away from his fun.
Clara ducked under the lowest branches, using her fingertips to slide the object toward her.
When she finally got out from under the tree, she saw that she had pulled out a little man made of wood.
He had a strange look to him.
He was almost like a soldier, but he had very short legs and an oversized head.
He was wearing a green cap and a black cape on his back.
He had black leather boots and shiny brass buttons on his coat.
Clara had never seen anything like it.
She picked it up and held it carefully in her hands.
She studied his face, deciding that he had a kind look about him.
His eyes were green.
His delicate red lips seemed strange on such a military man.
There was something different about him that made Clara simply fall in love.
Oh, God, Papa, she whispered.
He is beautiful.
Who is this gift for?
God, Papa Drosselmeyer smiled.
Rather than answer her, he picked up a nut, put it in the wooden soldier's mouth and pulled the wooden cape down.
He watched the little girl's eyes light up when a nut came out, ready for eating.
He was amused by her interest in such an everyday tool.
Clara clapped her hands, never having expected such a trick.
She jumped up and down with delight.
I do believe this little nutcracker belongs to you, Godpapa Drosselmeyer said with pleasure, but I expect you to share it with your brother.
Clara would have traded both Miss Clare and her silk dress for the nutcracker.
Sharing it with Fritz would be no problem.
He didn't even like nuts.
He's ugly, Fritz said when he finally stopped playing with his soldiers long enough to see Clara's new gift.
But Fritz, not wanting to miss his turn at anything, tried to stuff the mouth of the nutcracker with nuts.
Clara's tried to stop him.
You'll break him, she said, trying to grab it from her brother.
Fritz held on tight and clamped the cape down hard.
The nuts tumbled to the floor along with three teeth from the nutcracker's mouth.
The poor soldier's jaw was now crooked and wobbled loosely when Clara took it back.
You've broken him, the little girl cried.
Cradling the nutcracker to her chest, she ran from the room, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Seconds later, Mother entered the drawing room.
She said that the night had been long and that good boys and girls should go to bed.
Clara saw her godpapa and his nephew getting ready to leave.
She ran to the door to hug him goodnight.
She thanked him for the toy palace and, most importantly, for the nutcracker.
Fritz thanked him, too.
Mother almost had convinced Fritz to go straight to his bedroom, but he stopped one last time to play with his soldiers and horses.
As Mother carried the pouting Fritz to bed, Clara sat under the tree and looked at the nutcracker.
While she was thanking God-Papa Drosselmeyer, Fritz must have tried to put the teeth back into the nutcracker's mouth.
They were placed in the right spots but crooked.
Then wrapped with a ribbon from a package, was such a sweet attempt at a repair by her little brother.
She would have to remember to thank him in the morning, but for now she just wanted to hold her nutcracker and wait for Mother under the tree.
Clara held him for only a short time before she began to feel sleepy.
She surely couldn't have shut her eyes for more than a second.
But when she opened them, the nutcracker was in a different state.
He couldn't have moved by himself.
The little girl whispered, moving to where the wooden toy had gone.
Just holding him reminded her of the fun she'd had earlier.
She pulled the nutcracker toward her, gave him a hug, and left the drawing room for her bedroom.
She put Miss Clare into the doll crib by her bedside.
She fit nicely.
Clara gave her a kiss and was just about to jump into her own bed when she heard the grandfather clock in the drawing room begin to chime.
Clara snuck out of her bedroom door and glanced down the hall, expecting to see the wooden owl that was perched on top of the tall, thin clock.
Instead, she saw the strangest sight.
There, sitting on top of the clock, was God-Puppet Drosselmeyer.
His head was sticking out like the owls, and his arms and his brown coat hung down like wings.
He flapped them as if he wanted to fly, but couldn't leave his perch.
Perhaps stranger still was the fact that every object in the room, from the Christmas tree to the smallest of packages under the tree, had grown to an enormous size.
Clara was fascinated.
She opened her mouth to call out to God Puppet Drosselmeyer, but before she could say a word, she saw such an amazing thing.
Oodles of mice in ball gowns and black tuxedos came scampering out of the holes in the walls.
The female mice were holding flower petals, dropping them as they skipped into the room.
The males looked more royal.
They had little canes that they waved around as they danced to music.
All the mice were squeaking so loudly, Clara had to cover her ears.
She tried to shout above them to guard Papa Drosselmeyer, but something from below her startled her.
She looked down at her feet.
Coming out of the floor was the king of all the mice.
He had a silver sword that flashed as he waved it in the air.
Much to Clara's horror, the king had seven horrible heads, each one wearing a tiny crown.
His fourteen little eyes shifted to look around the room, but they all kept coming back to glare at the little girl.
The army of mice began to form lines behind their king.
Thousands of them appeared.
Clara was so frightened that she moved a chair over to the toy cupboard and climbed quickly to the top.
But this did her no good.
The mice began marching right up the side of the cupboard.
Their sights set on Clara.
The young girl squirmed, trying to figure out how to escape.
She tried to look around for a safer place to hide.
She kicked her feet wildly, not knowing what else to do.
As she swung them around, she broke the piece of glass on the front of the cupboard door.
Her mother and father always warned her not to get too close to the cupboard for this reason.
They always asked her to be careful when playing indoors, but this was purely an accident.
At the moment, Clara wished her mother would come in and scold her.
At least mother would be able to help her.
The falling glass was exactly what Clara needed, however.
It sent the mice scampering and squeaking back to the holes and cracks in the wall.
Clara didn't even have time to sigh in relief.
A loud sound like something being pushed over the floor and people shouting startled her.
The toys were gathering together.
Soldiers, puppets, dolls, and candy people, they all ran around the drawing room.
It was a total madhouse.
Then the nutcracker leaped out from Miss Clare's bed and called the toys to attention.
The army quickly formed, rose, and stopped their noise.
Now the mice, also responding to the nutcracker's call, came out from their holes carrying bows and arrows.
They fell into many rows and stood opposite the toys.
They squeaked a chant that frightened Clara.
We are mice.
We are strong.
We can fight you all night long.
There was going to be a battle between the two groups.
The toy army brought out cannons that shot sugar plums and guns that shot nuts, fired their weapons over and over at the mice, but the rows of mice seemed endless.
As soon as one rank fell, a new one would appear.
They shot their arrows one after another, knocking the toys down.
There were so many mice in the room, the toys were being defeated.
Clara watched in horror as the toy army got smaller and smaller.
Three bold mice began to attack the nutcracker.
My poor nutcracker, Clara called.
Her gift, the thing she loved most in the world, was in danger.
She took off her shoe and threw it as hard as she could, aiming for the king of mice.
At that second, the mice disappeared.
Clara didn't know if she hit the king.
Had she managed to make them all go away by throwing her shoe?
All she knew was they were gone.
She heard the distant voice of the Nutcracker say, Clara, you have saved my life.
For that, I will love you forever.
Nutcracker, she asked, looking about the room.
Nutcracker?
It is Prince Nutcracker now, the young man said, stepping out of the darkness.
Clara turned around to see a handsome prince.
He reminded her very much of God-Papa Drosselmeyer's nephew, whom she had met earlier.
I am from the Land of Sweets, a place where the trees are sugar-coated and the houses drip with frosting.
It is every child's dream to go there, the prince said with a smile.
But how?
Clara started again, very confused by the evening she was having.
You helped me defeat the king of mice and his army before he took over the land of sweets, which now makes you the princess of the land.
Come, let me show you.
The gentle prince took her hand.
He led her behind a grove of trees and into a world like no other.
Snowflakes glistened like sugar as they fell softly from the sky.
Clara couldn't resist the joy of catching one on her tongue.
It's lovely here, she whispered while a smile spread across her face.
Every inch of the land was laced with candy as far as she could see.
A path led them through a forest of Christmas trees, heavy with candy canes and peppermint sticks.
To the right, there was a river of chocolate with candy bar benches along the shores.
Peanut butter blossoms and sugar-rolled cherries dotted the hedges.
I see a boat.
Clara clapped with excitement.
She almost forgot she was now a princess.
A glass boat sailed right up to the waiting couple.
It was beautiful.
The boat reflected the colors of every sweet thing around it.
Clara was so dazzled by the colorful boat that she barely noticed the passenger on board.
This is the Sugar Plum Fairy, the prince told Clara.
She looks after the kingdom while I am away.
Clara smiled shyly.
She had never seen anyone so lovely.
The fairy's gown was very long.
It had pearls, lace, and silk that seemed to trail on forever.
Once the fairy stepped off the boat, her gown opened at the bottom and out came a parade of little dancers.
First, there were Spanish dancers who presented the prince and princess with steaming hot cocoa.
An Arabian dancer, whose silks were dark like coffee, moved her arms in wide, majestic circles.
Three Chinese dancers performed a light-hearted number that made Clara laugh.
They did splits in the air and sprinkled loose leaves of tea over the ground.
Then a troop of Russian soldiers stepped to a lively beat.
Some peppermint sticks, gumdrops, taffy, and bonbons followed in a swirling dance.
The sugarplum fairy finished with a graceful duet with her handsome cavalier.
The dances enchanted Clara so much that she almost forgot she was sitting next to her nutcracker prince.
She smiled and thanked him for bringing her to the land of Swedes.
The hours passed like minutes until eventually it was time to return.
Clara stepped into a sleigh that would take her home.
She couldn't believe all that she had seen this Christmas Eve.
The young girl had experienced enough sweet memories to last forever.
With her prince beside her and a bag of gumdrops in her lap, Clara took off into the sky.
Clara, sweetheart, it's time to get up.
It's Christmas morning.
At her mother's words, she opened her eyes.
Clara was in her mother's bed, Miss Clare beside her.
Oh, mother, Clara said, realizing where she was.
I am a princess now.
I've been to the Land of Sweets and there was a terrible fight between the mice and the toys.
I helped.
Her words trailed off.
You must have been dreaming, my dear Clara, her mother said with a smile.
I found you sleeping under the Christmas tree with a nutcracker lying next to you.
My nutcracker, Clara said.
Where is he?
She looked around the room in a panic.
My prince, are you here?
Clara's mother took the nutcracker from her dresser and placed it in Clara's hand.
Here is your funny little man.
God, Papa Drosselmeyer and his nephew came by early this morning and fixed his teeth and jaw.
He's as good as new.
She hugged him, then placed him on the pillow beside her.
It had been a wonderful Christmas.
Even after all the dolls, dresses, and toys Clara received, the nutcracker was her favorite gift.
She could never imagine celebrating a Christmas without him.
As long as she had him, she would always be reminded of her sweet adventure.
Thank you, my prince, she whispered into the nutcracker's ear.
For this, I will love you for ever.
