Last cookie of the night—store-bought, but still tasty. Washed it down with a sip of milk. After so many stops, one cookie was really all I could bear to eat without it all coming back up. But the night was over. Wearily, I climbed back into the sleigh and didn’t even need to
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“I don’t see what the big deal is.” I twitch the reins. “It’s not like this is my first time herding caribou or something. I mean, the Big Man was acting like I’m completely inept, but I wasn’t the one waltzing on black ice with the missus. Maybe it’s the sloping forehead.
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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.
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Donner. Where’s Donner?
Nicholas shielded his face from the blizzard’s gale, lifted his kerosene lamp, and counted the antlered heads of his reindeer. Dasher. Dancer.
A January gust smacked his red coat. Snow stung rosy cheeks.
Prancer… Vixen. The old man’s teeth gritted. Comet… Cupid… Blitzen…
Donner?
Yukon peaks loomed in silent observance…
“You all right, little one?”
It’s finally my turn. He awaits me on a grand throne of candy-red and white stripes. Even though I can tell it’s only plastic, I feel so small.
But his demeanor is different. Could he, in fact, be the real deal?
“Now, now. Come sit on my lap and tell me
Christmas morning! And there, under the tree… Nothing.
Six-year-old Joey’s hopes deflated. “I wonder why Santa didn’t bring any presents.” He rubbed his eyes and peeked through a crack in the front door. The eastern sky was streaked with orange. Along the fencerow, pink and yellow tulips danced
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“I come bearing grave tidings.” Suraeldor the elf swept into the workshop, clutching a candy cane-striped telescope.
Tiggles set aside a half-built jack-in-the-box and focused on his friend. “Can I guess why? Is it because you stole the big guy’s Kringlescope?”
The tall elf handed the device to Tiggles. “Fear not—I will
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Oh, I can already taste our sweet victory! Just imagine the rush, the bliss! That old nudnik Santa will give us elves what we desire. No, what we deserve. Finally, we’ll have—
“They’re coming!” Pint Ree slides down the snowbank. His elfin ears are red with adrenaline, small hands shaking.
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