Page 18 of Dancing in Lake Mistletoe

Keller’s staring down at the contraption we’ve built—a rotating platform designed to slowly spin the giant Christmas tree at the center of town. The mechanics are simple enough—a motorized base with bearings that will allow the tree to rotate smoothly—but I’ve had to account for the weight, the weather, and of course, the safety of hundreds of townsfolk wandering around during the annual lighting ceremony.

He and Bran are the artistic ones. So, they’re designing the ornate wooden cover that will encapsulate the contraption. It’ll be a beautiful oak with snowflakes and holly branches carved in its sides.

I even included a speaker system, so soft instrumental carols will play as the tree rotates.

“All right,” I say, wiping my greasy hands on a rag and standing up straight. “Let’s test it.”

Keller steps back as I connect the last few wires to the small control box. It’s nothing fancy, just a prototype to see if the motor can handle the load and the rotation speed is steady.

“You want the honors?” I ask, holding out the remote.

Keller shakes his head. “Nah, this is your baby. You do it.”

I grin. Moments like this—the first test of something I’ve built—always give me a rush. Doesn’t matter if it’s a drone, a tree stand, or a complicated circuit board at work. It’s that anticipation, not knowing if all the hours of planning, designing, and troubleshooting will pay off or blow up in my face.

“Here goes nothing,” I say, pressing the button.

There’s a low hum as the motor kicks on. The platform shudders for a second, then begins to turn—slowly at first, but it’s steady. The bearings hold, and the steel base rotates smoothly in place with no hiccups and no groaning.

Bran lets out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Told you it’d work.”

We watch as the platform makes a full rotation, the hum of the motor barely audible over the soft sound of “Away in a Manger” coming from the speakers. I keep an eye on the speed, making sure it’s not going too fast. We don’t need the tree spinning like a top and going airborne—just an easy, graceful turn.

“Looks like it’s a success,” I say, flipping the switch to stop the rotation.

The platform slows to a halt, resting exactly where it started.

Keller claps me on the back, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Good job, Dutch. Now, the fun begins. Bran’s already started carving the decoration into the wood.”

I turn off the motor, and we walk over to the desk, where the blueprints are located. If it turns out as planned, this thing is going to be a showstopper for years to come.

“Think the town’s gonna like it?” Keller asks.

“Like it? They’re gonna love it. You know how Lake Mistletoe gets about their Christmas tree.”

The town takes its holiday traditions seriously. Every year, the lighting ceremony draws the entire town to the square,plus hundreds of visitors and families from neighboring towns, just to see the tree. It’s been the same routine for decades—the mayor makes a speech, a choir sings carols, and then they flip the switch to light the tree. This year though, the rotating stand will add something extra—something people haven’t seen before.

I look down at the paperwork. “So, what’s the next step?”

“Once Bran is done carving, we’ll give it another good sanding, and then it’ll be stained. We’ll let it cure for forty-eight hours and then give it another coat before we apply the sealant and top coat.”

“Then, we assemble this beast,” I say.

“Yep, that’ll be the hard part,” he says. “That, and breaking it down and hauling it to town square.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll be back a few times to reinforce the motor housing and make sure the wiring’s weatherproof. The last thing we need is for this thing to short out in the middle of the ceremony.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want the tree to stop spinning while the mayor’s giving his speech,” Bran mutters.

“Or worse, have it fall over,” I say, grimacing at the thought. “But don’t worry; I’ll double-check everything.”

Keller grins, clearly amused as he claps me on the back. “You’re a hero, Dutch.”

“Just doing my part for holiday cheer,” I reply with a smirk.

We spend the next hour going over the rest of the setup—making sure the base is secure, testing the motor’s endurance, and fine-tuning the control panel. By the time we’re done, the garage is littered with tools and empty coffee cups.

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