By Nate Swanson
Santa knew this house. As his sleigh bumped lightly on the slate roof, he noticed a Frisbee nestled in a gutter. I gave that to Suzy last year. Santa bent down, his ample belly bending easily, and tossed the toy into the yard. He liked the girl here, but her brother Bobby was next level.
Frowning in thought, Santa put a hand on the chimney. Bobby was a technical whiz kid, and his Santa detection schemes were some of the best. This year won’t be any easier. Maybe after turning fourteen he’d lost faith in “The Jolly Fat Man,” but Santa hoped not. This kid believed, and that was both a blessing and a danger.
Sighing, Santa grabbed his utility belt and swung it around his ample waist—it held everything the smart anti-burglar would need for an incursion. Saying a quick prayer, he jumped down the chimney.
As he neared the bottom, he used his extra-stick boots to brake himself. Just as he’d expected, Bobby had a GoPro pointed up the chimney right at him. The boy had even painted the camera white to match the nearby birch logs. Santa hung in deep shadow, but that would mask his approach only so far. Santa pulled a small chunk of freeze-dried soot from a pouch and expertly dropped it on the lens.
He unclipped his Flexible Energy Detection Utility Project—FED-UP—and slid the antenna around the bottom of the opening. His best tech elves had given him the tool four years ago; it could spot listening devices, spy cameras, and Wi-Fi signals. It picked up six gadgets and some solid Wi-Fi. Santa grabbed his Disposable Internet Serial Signal Energy Disruptor, set the channel, and stuck it inside the chimney with a four-minute self-destruct timer. He hoped Dad and Mom were asleep for the evening. While this disabled the offending cameras and mics, their internet would also be offline.
“Okay, Bobby,” Santa whispered. He slid down the rest of the way, boots thumping quietly on the ground. “It’s mano a mano now.”
Scanning the living room, he detected some old-school traps, probably set by the younger sister, Suzy—yarn pulled between chairs and tied up with bells, scattered Legos, and cookies that, if taken, would drop a cardboard box on the snacker. Santa deftly stepped through the room, avoiding each snare. After hundreds of years on the job, the motions were child’s play.
Cookies, then the tree, or the other way around? Santa always tried to keep it fresh. Cookies first. He approached the counter, stepping over Lego pieces and more twine. He scrutinized the cookies. A tiny bit of plastic peeked out from under one sugary morsel. Tricky. Taking one of the others, he sighed and popped it into his mouth.
Now for the tree. Santa reversed course and silently stepped over to the white spruce, nicely decorated in midcentury modern style. As he did, he glanced at his escape route.
And froze.
Red laser lines crisscrossed the fireplace opening. How had that happened? Had he missed something, or was it on a timer? He unclipped his tablet and pulled up the house blueprints. The breaker box was in the parent’s closet upstairs.
Santa put the tree between him and the rest of the room, quickly placing the presents. He slid over to the fireplace and filled the stockings, taking extra pleasure in dropping a hunk of coal into Bobby’s sock. Santa was going to step away when he remembered the whole self-esteem thing. So, he returned and put the other items in Bobby’s stocking, leaving the coal in place. Santa heard feet shuffle in the upstairs hallway. Turning, he ducked back behind the tree.
Santa peeked through the spruce branches. A sleepy fourteen-year-old face appeared in the doorway. Bobby’s eyes lit up, and he pumped his fist up and down. Wincing, he looked backward, clearly afraid to wake his parents. As Bobby turned his head, Santa considered his choices: Should he stay hidden or move? He sprinted through the den door and pressed his ample body against the wall.
Bobby wandered right past Santa’s hiding place, bent down to examine the presents under the tree, then walked over to the fireplace. The young menace to Santa’s mystique looked at the stockings, then checked the laser grid. As he was occupied, Santa slid around the wall and tiptoed to the top of the stairs.
The best way to get out is always the simplest. It was so tempting to go for the breaker box and take down a large portion of Bobby’s arsenal. However… Palming one more item from his belt, Santa chose the path of humility. Tiptoeing to Bobby’s bedroom door, he opened it, revealing a clean room. Good boy, Bobby. Maybe you’ll keep your position on the Nice List next year.
Santa silently pulled the window open, slapped the gadget in his palm onto the sash bead, and slid the window shut behind him. Then, pulling himself up on the rooftop, he winked at his reindeer and hopped into his sleigh, yelling, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Santa’s Child Activity Detection System lit up like a Christmas tree as Bobby sprinted up the stairs. He tugged on the window, but the Six-Minute Automatic Release Tape Santa had placed there held firm.
Santa flew out of sight, laughing. “Well played, Bobby. Well played.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Good one !
Love the high-tech and the cat-and-mouse game Santa plays with Bobby! Quite hilarious!
Nate, this was great! Best Christmas story concept I’ve come across in years.
loved it! Hohoho, merry Christmas and happy new year!!
I loved it that you call St. Nick an “anti-burglar”. What a delicious touch to the story!
Nate, this is such a fun story about the traditional trying to catch Santa in the act. I love Bobby’s genius imagination. And, FED-UP was great!