Dan felt the way he used to feel on Christmas morning—wide-eyed, excited, and unsure whether he was dreaming or not. He was about to go for a sleigh ride with Mrs. Claus! “Sometimes the things that are real are more difficult to believe in than those things that are not,” Mrs. Claus provided. “I can tell you’re as excited as a Christmas sweater!” Dan wasn’t used to smiling much lately, but he couldn’t help it. “It’s the Christmas magic!” Mrs. Claus explained.
She was just finishing with strapping the horses onto Santa’s retired sleigh. “We can’t have the reindeer. They are all in Toy Town, so we get the horses,” she explained while patting the side of one of the horses. “Isn’t that right, Sugarplum?” She turned to another horse. “Oh what a sweetheart you are, Chestnut.”
From its looks, you could tell the sleigh had been on many successful Christmas journeys. Its red coat of paint was flaking off, but its gold rounded trim was as brilliant and shiny as ever, curving about like the careful elegant penmanship of an old-world craftsman who believed beauty mattered, even in the cold. The runners were long and hand-forged. Their once-bright steel dulled to a soft, pewter shine, worn smooth by decades of snow packed hard as sugar. Closely, one could still see faint scratches—little stories etched in metal—from frozen rooftops and hurried landings. Despite its beauty, and the lavish praise one could bestow upon it, time truly had taken its toll on the old sleigh, and it was falling apart. It was rough, but Mrs. Claus still had faith that it would take them down to Toy Town. She gave a swift kick to one of the runners with her boot, to force it back in place. “Ready,” she declared. “Hop aboard!” Dan quietly stepped up into the sleigh. The leather seat was patched and re-patched, smelling faintly of saddle soap and peppermint, sagging just a bit in the middle where Santa had sat so many Christmas Eves.
Dan was very quiet, because he was deep in thought. Despite making observations of the sleigh, he couldn’t stop thinking of the “rebel elf” he had just met. He wondered if he’d ever see him again. The half-elf-half-human in some ways reminded Dan of himself–, discontent and longing for more. He also felt they shared a similar feeling of being displaced and not really belonging in their situations. The “rebel elf” felt out of place in the North Pole per his part human nature. Dan felt out of place with his aunt, feeling as though he should be with his mom and dad, and that his life should look more like that of Dakota’s. It just wasn’t the way it should be, at least in his mind.
“This is so exciting!” said Mrs. Claus with much enthusiasm, clapping her hands like the wings of a fluttering butterfly. “I haven’t been to Toy Town in quite a while. I’ve been afraid of being a bother, but now that you are here, I have a wonderful excuse! You just have to see Toy Town! It’s the most marvelous place on Earth! Santa will be so glad that you are here…”
The sleigh ride was absolutely breathtaking. The moon shown out on the sea of snow and ice, and stars bragged their distance. Before, Dan had thought that the North Pole was entirely ice. He was right, ignoring the one exception: Between Santa Claus Lane and Toy Town anything was possible. Even in the year-round winter and arctic temperatures, pine trees created a forest. Mrs. Claus would explain matter-of-factly that it was the result of magic. Amidst these forests lived creatures of all kinds. There were deer, rabbits, wolves, foxes, bears, snow sprites, starlingers, and pinekins, as well as frost hounds, bandersnatchers, snowshades and other monsters of the night.
As the sleigh swiftly glided through the forest, between the silent pine trees, Dan saw deer gracefully prancing on cushions of snow. Over a glistening glass pond, a host of snow sprites painted the sky. Their lights twinkled reflections on the frozen pond. In a clearing, Dan saw a mother polar bear directing her cubs, nudging them kindly, while a starlinger caught a shooting star in a burlap sack. In every view on this North Pole safari, there was life, each creature decorating its own niche. It was surreal, as the mythical had breached reality.
Looking up, Dan saw endless stars and the aurora borealis rip and ribbon across the sky in chilling beauty. He took in a deep breath of the cool pine-rich air and sunk back into the leather seat, amazed. Though there was great excitement, there was also a rich peace Dan felt, and also a sense of adventure taking spark within him. He wanted to jump off the sleigh and just go explore, but he knew it really wasn’t a good idea. He had to finish this trip with Mrs. Claus and did not want to miss out on meeting Santa in Toy Town. Earlier, when this was said, he was unsure this would really pan out, unsure he believed in Santa, but after meeting the elves and seeing the magic of this forest, there was no doubt left that all was real.
“This is one of my favorite places in the whole world,” shared Mrs. Claus. “Back in the day when I used to write poetry, I would come out here all bundled up and rest against any tree and just let nature inspire me.” She proceeded with a few lines of her poetry taken to memory:
Thick white frosting, spread with care,
Left not a single crevice bare
As skillful winds form works of art,
White magic to the scene imparts
A soft and graceful elegance! ”
She continued, “Then sometimes, if I was in the mood, I’d hold a good conversation with a polar bear or let a snow sprite try to teach me to fly.”
“How come you don’t do that anymore?” asked Dan.
“A lady like me could never fly like a snow sprite. No need to be so gracious, Daniel.” Mrs. Claus took one hand off the reins to intentionally place it on her belly laughing in response to her own remark. “Too many Christmas cookies here.” Then she turned to Dan with serious eyes and an immediate change in tone. “Everything is different now.” Her eyes widened. “The forest has gotten far too dangerous.”
“What do you mean?” Dan was slightly spooked by her remark and change of tone.
“There are new creatures in these woods that could cause death within seconds. Maybe one day you’ll learn more about them… but no need to worry you now on Christmas Eve.”
Dan looked at Mrs. Claus, waiting for more. She knew she wasn’t going to say anything more on the topic, so she reached for another. “So, how do you celebrate on Christmas morn?” she asked. Before she gave Dan enough time to gather his own answer, she gave her own response. “Santa, you see, is always late for Christmas, because he is finishing up his route. I know he has a lot to do, and works very hard, but he’s been known to dilly and even dally on Christmas Eve. So while we are waiting on him, the elves in training, and I, we deck the halls and prepare a big celebration with a feast and as much music as we can find. It’s probably one of the greatest things that happens throughout the entire year!” Mrs. Claus paused. “What is it that you do on Christmas?” she asked again.
“Open presents.”
“Open presents? Why, everyone opens presents on Christmas. Isn’t there anything else to your celebration? How do you celebrate?”
“Celebration?” Dan paused to think. “I know how you guys are celebrating all the presents being delivered and that accomplishment, but for me, I don’t have much to celebrate. Presents are nice, but Christmas just isn’t the same without my parents.” Dan’s mind raced back to his thoughts on the school bus the prior morning. “Christmas reminds me of them…” Oh, no, I promised myself not to talk about this. Dan decided to hurry things up and not dig a deeper hole. “… I just have a lot of heavy thoughts at Christmas. I mean, I still love Christmas. I think it’s a great thing, but I just don’t have anything to celebrate right now.”
“I am so sorry to hear that,” Mrs. Claus replied, “but, you, my friend, have a lot to learn.”
“Really? Like what?” a sliver of defensiveness made it into his tone.
Mrs. Claus displayed a gentle smile and emitted a thoughtful hum. “The celebration, you see, is that of Christ Jesus’ birth.”
Just after those words were said Dan’s mind jumped back to his conversations in the day with Linzy and Dakota. They had said similar things. Are they all in cahoots to try and change my view of Christmas? Dan quickly analyzed his conspiracy. Since when are there rebel elves, mythical forest creatures, and a Mrs. Claus talking about Jesus as if she had been talking with Dakota? Dan didn’t realize it, but he figured he must have expressed some sort of doubt, or maybe his silence was enough for Mrs. Claus to address him again. “Daniel, I am most sincere. The real meaning behind Christmas is Jesus’ birth, and that is most worthy of our celebration.”
“I don’t mean to be rude…” Dan replied, with a bit of hesitancy in how to say what he wanted “…but what’s so special about Jesus?” He didn’t like the way that came out. “I mean, I don’t know much about him. I know he was a great person, but I don’t think he’s the super-man some people make him out to be.”
“You’re wrong,” plainly replied Mrs. Claus, “…and Jesus not only was, but also is.”
“I don’t think so. I can’t believe in things that I haven’t seen,” Dan defended.
“That’s not true,” said Mrs. Claus. “Do you not believe in the wind, for you cannot see it, only feel it? Do you not believe in night, for you cannot see it, you just know it to always be there? All you see is the dark sky. What about love? Do you believe in love? Oh, how sad! It also is something you cannot see, just feel.”
“Those are all very different things,” Dan critiqued. He was getting uncomfortable with this conversation. He never liked to talk about God, because it was confusing for him. He felt he should know more than he did, and he wanted to know, but he had no idea of where to begin, so it also brought forth a keen and subtle sense of embarrassment.
While Dan was thinking about how to change the topic of the conversation, Mrs. Claus carried on in a trail of thoughts: “When it comes to God, you can’t really see Him, but you can see Him reflected in His creation all around and in the spirit of love and generosity at Christmas. You’ll feel Him if you open your heart to Him,” explained Mrs. Claus.
“I’ll believe in God when I see Him.” concluded Dan. “Now, can we talk about something else?”
Mrs. Claus was silent for a moment, thinking of how to respond. She found it a shame that Dan didn’t want to stay on the topic. “Sure, we can talk about anything else. What suits your fancy?”
“Tell me more about Toy Town,” Dan suggested.
“Toy Town is where all the toys are made for every good boy and girl. There are factories and warehouses filled with assembly lines and machines, cranes and carts and creativity, and lots of sleds. And most importantly, it’s where Santa spends most of his time along with the majority of the elves. Over the course of the year, with the help of the Christmas magic, billions of toys are produced. Toy Town has to be the second most magnificent place on earth.”
The horses trodding slowed down as the sleigh emerged from the forest. Just a small plain of snow remained before the towering buildings of Toy Town, a metropolis sticking out upon the tundra.
Something so big and grandiose was unexpected. Huge elegant skyscrapers tickled the clouds, looking like they were dreamed up by someone who fell asleep in a warm blanket. The tallest buildings were stacked like giant toy blocks, each level a different cheerful color, softened by frost so all the windows, circle and square, glowed with comfort. Many buildings had sled ramps, where tiny delivery sleighs glided in and out like birds at birdhouses. Other buildings had the metallic cylindrical appearance of silos but were pointed and punched with cozy star-shaped windows, looking like giant tin lanterns. Inside each one were ticking clocks, humming machines, and the most skillful elves busily about their work. Steam curled from chimneys near the rooftops, carrying the smell of hot cocoa, glue and pain, and warm metal. The northern lights danced overhead, the tin towers quietly reflecting their colors, making the whole city look like it was breathing light.
A few buildings even wore hats—pointed roofs with bells, spires, or giant snowballs looking as if shaped by hand, and every skyscraper leaned just a little as if listening.
Then…
“Look!” Mrs Claus hurriedly blurted out and pointed. Dan shifted his attention to the right, where he saw a large boxy building on the side of town up in flames with dark sheets of smoke. “We must go!”
Mrs. Claus took off running in haste, Dan ran at her side. He wanted to be fast, noting the urgency in Mrs. Claus’ voice, but he had to slow himself down to match her pace, taking long slow strides, while she panted and scurried. The closer they drew to the building, the worse things seemed to be. Elves ran about in every direction, with their hands up in the air in a frenzy. The cracking sound of the burning building filled the air. Crowds of distressed elves and reindeer were growing thick. There seemed to be a little pocket in the crowd where elves had stepped aside and a large character in red stood in the middle.
“Oh, honey!” Mrs. Claus called out, in relief to see her husband unharmed, but also in sympathy for the tragedy before them.
In some ways Santa looked just as Dan would have suspected. He was broad shouldered and round, with a thick velvety red coat and hat, and a big black buckle around his waist. His most prominent features were his naturally rosey cheeks and his white beard which spilled down his front like fresh fallen snow. In other ways, Santa was not as imagined, for he was not jolly nor jovial. Instead, on his face he wore frustration and panic. He darted in one direction and then another, his heavy boots stomping into the snow. From his mouth came grumbled murmurs. Santa’s otherwise beautiful outfit, showed the turmoil of the day, with the white fringes of his coat singed by fire, looking like burnt marshmallows, and his hat dishevely hanging on for dear life atop his head.
As Santa paced back and forth in thought about his next decision, Mrs. Claus tried to comfort him with an embrace. Looking over her shoulder, Santa noticed Dan. His eyes immediately lit up.
“Daniel!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands out in welcome, a smile overtaking his face. “We’ve been expecting you. I apologize for such an unpleasant first impression.” Leaving Mrs. Claus, he grasped one of Dan’s hands with two of his. “It is delightful to meet you. Pardon us, for this Christmas season has not been working out just right. We have had our share of problems today.”
Santa looked over to Mrs. Claus. Under his breath he asked, “This is the human from your magic trap, isn’t it?” he inquired.
“Yes,” Mrs. Claus smiled. Santa turned back to Dan.
“Have you ever heard of a magic trap?” He inquired.
“I can’t say I have,” Dan replied.
“When Mrs. Claus gets her hands on Christmas magic, you never know what’s gonna happen. She, and some of the elves back up on Santa Claus Lane, placed a magic trap. I know a trap sounds like a bad thing, but a magic trap is a very good thing. It’s precautionary really, a portal sown in the seams of dimension and space. A magic trap will only catch a human, if it’s destiny, if the situation requires it, if it’s meant to be. You’re meant to be here, Daniel.”
“What about the Toy Shop?” Mrs. Claus cupped her hands over her heart as if holding its broken pieces together. “What a loss,” she said as she watched the buildings burn in flames.
“There’s not much we can do now. It’s too late we’ve determined. It’s going to burn to the ground. A bunch of the elves are already out there with marshmallow sticks making smores. I told them to get away. It’s not safe. It’s going to be tumbling down soon.”
“What happened?” Mrs. Claus inquired.
“Well…” Santa grabbed Mrs. Claus and Dan by the hands and guided them through the crowds of elves. So many elves were trying to ask Santa questions and were crowding around him. He wanted space to breathe and talk to his company. Once outside the crowds, he switched back and forth looking at Daniel and Mrs. Claus squarely in the eyes and explained:
“The trouble started this morning. I was in the Nutcracker Building, working on planning out the flight for tonight, when all of the sudden I heard an explosion not far in the distance. I looked out my office window and there across the street was the Toy Shop Factory bursting into flames. By the time the fire-elves arrived, it was too late. The structural integrity was gone. The toys had already melted on their shelves. It was all over. The elves are saying that the half-elf, Jason Hawthorne, left the Toy Shop unlocked overnight, and so Jack Frost, naturally, let himself in, dosed the place in gasoline, and lit a match.” Santa paused to huff and shake his head. “Who would have thought he’d get into fire? You’d think he would have frozen the place. Then we could have at least thawed the place out,” Santa sighed. “And, that half-elf is driving me insane. Just wait til I have a word with him.”
“Oh, honey.” This time Mrs. Claus’ address was one of disapproval. “We all make mistakes.”
“Well not mistakes that cause us Christmas.” His words seemed to come biting back. He turned around and directed, “Follow me.” He motioned with his hands. Santa quickly led Mrs. Claus and Dan back into the crowds and out onto a city street. There on a corner, by one of the many spiraling striped candy cane lantern poles, laid a sorry looking reindeer with a red nose. A few concerned elves were attending to him.
“It’s Rudolph. He isn’t feeling well. The elves brought him to me,” Santa explained. “He hasn’t been able to fly all day.” He petted the reindeer on the top of his head. “They say he hasn’t been able to get up at all and has been vomiting what looks like boughs of holly.”
“Boughs of holly? How did the reindeer get into that? I was going to deck the halls with those,” explained Mrs. Claus.
“Well, I told all the elves, and even Jason Hawthorne, specifically not to feed the reindeers holly, but apparently he didn’t listen to me.”
“Jason Hawthorne?” Mrs. Claus raised the name like a question.
“He’s the same elf who is responsible for my Toy Shop in flames. The one who also invited the abominable snowman over for breakfast. Yes, Jason Hawthorne.” He said the name as if it was some sort of curse word.
“Oh, I know who you are talking about.” Mrs. Claus sighed, “Oh boy.”
“We all know, and for all the wrong reasons.” Santa gave out another big huff, and looked back down at Rudolph, giving him a comforting pat on the head. “Hang in their Rudolph. I really am counting on you to guide my sleigh tonight.”
The poor animal, though a reindeer, seemed to wear puppy eyes begging for help. His ears dropped down, and his red nose was actually not so bright but dull, looking like he needed a change of batteries. He shivered, as overcome by sickly chills.
“Take Rudolph over to Hollyhoof. See that he is attended to the rest of the day. Get him our best doctor, and whatever he wants. and keep him warm.” Santa instructed.
“Yes, sir.” A small group of elves picked up Rudolph in their arms and carried him away.
Santa, with his head hung low declared, “I need a peppermint hot cocoa. Follow me.” He guided Mrs. Claus and Dan down the street, elves panickingly attended business all around hauling things. Santa ushered his wife and Dan into the Jolly Mug.
Mrs. leaned in to whisper to Dan as they entered the cafe. “This is the ‘dilly-dally’. The Toy Shop is on fire and Rudolph is sick, yet we are stopping for hot chocolate.”
Here there was peace and quiet aside from the subtle grinding sound of coffee beans, cacao nibs, and peppermint sticks; the occasional pouring of hot beverages into cozy mugs; and wooden chairs sliding up to tables. The three of them took a seat in the front window nook around a small table. Santa cupped his hands around his Christmas tree mug, as if that peppermint cocoa was the most valuable thing worth protecting at the moment. He gave it a gentle sip and looked out the frosted windows. Then he continued to explain:
“I don’t know why Jack Frost is still so mad at me that he would burn down the Toy Shop. All I told him was to stop nipping on everyone’s nose. In return, millions of toys are melted.” He paused and took another gentle sip of his cocoa. “I take that back! I do know what Jack Frost’s problem is. He’s jealous. He still is harboring jealousy that I am Father Christmas and he is not. He is jealous I gained control over the North Pole and that all the children turn their Christmas lists into me. He wants the elves to report to him, not me. We don’t do presents for fame, but that’s what he wants. He is self-consumed, and he’s been at the top of the naughty list for a very long time.”
“It is far more than a mere pity. It’s an abomination,” added Mrs. Claus.
“I know, but once you start to harbor jealousy, it’s hard to get rid of it. It’s like a disease. One day I just know it’s going to finish him off.”
“So, what have you done?” asked Mrs. Claus, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Did the elves make all new toys?”
“No, that is impossible. We still don’t have enough toys to deliver tonight, and the Toy Shop is still on fire.”
“So what are we going to do?” Mrs. Claus was concerned.
“Well, we have Daniel now.”
Catching him off guard, Dan inhaled a sip of cocoa down the wrong pipe and coughed to regain his voice and breath. “Me?” He questioned. What could they possibly want with me?
“Do you have any experience with time machines,” Santa asked.
Mrs. Claus butted in with wide eyes in disbelief of what she just heard. “That thing has been broken for years.”
“No, I don’t have any experience with time machines. ” Dan was certain of his response.
“Perfect,” Santa replied, sounding sincere rather than sarcastic.
“But…”
“No buts about it, buddy boy. You fell into the magic trap for a reason. Daniel, you’re here to help us save Christmas.”
Read more about Wild Christmas on my website: www.joshhodge.com/wild-christmas
Chapter 9 Coming Soon!
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