“Yes, my dear, he really is a Santa,” Matilda said, landing on Charlotte’s shoulders with a familiarity that made Ben want to burst with envy. “And of course he also has a reindeer. Sadly, it keeps running away all the time, especially during thunderstorms. And since it is invisible, it’s not that easy to find, you see.” “Oh!” Charlotte nodded.
She doesn’t understand a thing, thought Ben. I hope her mother finishes her shopping soon! But what Mouseface said next made it worse.
“I bet my dog can find that reindeer,” she said. “My dog has a very fine nose.”
What? Was she crazy? Had she come just to make sure Niklas Goodfellow would leave again?
“But that’s a wonderful idea!” Niklas exclaimed. “Would you really look for him?”
Charlotte gave him a shy smile. “I’d love to. I just need something for Mutt to get the reindeer’s scent.”
“The spare harness!” Matilda fluttered to the wardrobe. Ben’s head filled up with the nastiest curses and swearwords. This wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. He had found Niklas Goodfellow! Not this mouse of a girl, and now, if she found the reindeer, Niklas would leave!
“Ben, maybe you could help Charlotte?” Niklas looked at Ben expectantly.
“Oh yes!” Matilda clapped her hands. “We’ll give them loads of marzipan. That silly animal is mad about marzipan!”
Mouseface smiled shyly in Ben’s direction and then stared into her mug.
“Now this really could be our salvation!” Emmanuel sighed from the wardrobe. “Our salvation!”
Ben gave in. “OK,” he grumbled. “I’ll help her.”
The Invisible Reindeer
Charlotte never saw the elves. They were still snoring in their drawer when her mother came to pick her up.
That at least made Ben feel a little better.
“In an hour’s time. At the corner,” Charlotte whispered before she left with her mother.
Ben nodded glumly — and sighed with relief when he was finally alone again with Niklas and the angels.
He helped Matilda and Emmanuel knead more dough and watched Niklas struggle to wake the elves. Then he sewed the tassel back on Niklas Goodfellow’s hat. He was quite good at sewing. His mother had taught him, because he tore off his buttons all the time.
“You don’t like Charlotte, am I right?” Niklas asked as Ben was threading the needle.
Ben pricked his finger in surprise.
“Why not?” Niklas asked. “She has beautiful dreams, you know. Beautiful ones, and terrible ones as well.”
Ben had no idea what that had to do with anything. “She’s a girl,” he muttered, and made a knot in the thread.
“Ah!” Niklas said. “So? Matilda is also a girl.”
“That’s different,” Ben replied.
“Ah!” Niklas repeated. Then he looked thoughtfully out the window.
Ben was ten minutes late getting to the meeting place. On his way out of the caravan he had run into Will — of all people — and had told him a big lie. What else could he do? Tell his best friend that he was meeting Mouseface to catch an invisible reindeer? Unfortunately Ben always stuttered when he lied, and Will knew that, so he was offended as well. How much worse could this day get?
Charlotte was already waiting for him, shifting from one foot to the other to keep warm. Her dog was jumping around her, wrapping its leash around her legs.
“Hi,” said Ben, scratching the dog behind her ears. He would have loved to have a dog, but his parents wouldn’t allow it. “All that hair,” his mother always said, “and they keep licking everyone and everything. No, you can have an aquarium. How about that?” But Ben didn’t want fish. You can’t cuddle a fish.
“Have you got the harness?” Mouseface asked him.
Ben nodded. He pulled the leather straps from his pocket and held them in front of the dog’s nose.
Mutt sniffed at them curiously, but then she stuffed her nose into Ben’s coat pocket. That’s where all the marzipan was.
Charlotte laughed. “Hey, get out of there. That’s not for you!” She pulled the dog back and handed Ben the leash. “Do you want to hold her?”
“Thanks,” Ben mumbled, taking the leash. It was a good feeling.
Charlotte took the reindeer harness and held it under Mutt’s nose once again.
“Go! Seek!” she said.
And that’s what Mutt did. Sniffling and snuffling, her nose always close to the ground, the dog dragged Ben from street to street. Charlotte could hardly keep up with them. “That reindeer really must stink deliciously!” she called.
Ben just nodded. He felt wonderful. He could have run through the streets with Mutt for hours, days, weeks, forever. Even Mouseface’s company didn’t spoil it. Ben had always thought that girls talked all the time, that they poured out words by the bucketload over everyone’s heads. But Charlotte hardly said anything.
Side by side they hurried through the wintry streets, until Mutt suddenly turned into one of the big shopping centers. Then she headed straight toward the town’s largest department store.
“Oh no!” Charlotte stopped. “Don’t tell me the reindeer’s gone in there.”
Ben didn’t like that thought, either, but Mutt was already at the big doors, trying to yank the children inside.
“What are we going to do now?” Charlotte asked. “We can’t take Mutt inside, but how can we find the reindeer in there without her?”
Ben shrugged. “Maybe — maybe Twinklestar’s going to find us? I mean, the marzipan?”
“I don’t know …” Charlotte tied Mutt to a hook next to the entrance and patted her head. “That place is full of marzipan. How’s the reindeer going to smell us?”
They looked at each other helplessly.
“I think we should just go in,” Ben said finally.
They stroked Mutt good-bye and pushed into the crowds.
The store was one big crush. Ben and Charlotte shoved their way past bellies and bosoms, dodging bulging shopping bags and strollers with screaming babies. Exhausted, they finally reached the escalator to the basement level: groceries and sweets. Christmas music hung like syrup in the stuffy air, and there were Santas and angels with glittery hair everywhere. Ben stumbled off the escalator and ran into a huge plastic Christmas tree.
“Can’t you look where you’re going?” a sales assistant barked at him.
Ben shot her a dark look and searched around for Charlotte. He couldn’t spot her anywhere. Well, he thought, not really surprising — small as she is.
Suddenly something wet touched his hand. Wet and cold. He spun around, but there was nothing there. All he could see were crowds of tight-lipped people trying to reach the escalators and busy shoppers digging through the discount bins.
“Charlotte!” Ben stood on his toes and tried to pick her out. Someone pushed him in the back so hard that he nearly fell on his face.
Angrily he spun around, but there was no one there — absolutely no one. In fact, people were giving Ben a wide berth, as if he were surrounded by an invisible fence.
Invisible! Something nibbled at his sleeve and tried to push into his coat pocket.
“Charlotte!” Ben shouted. “Charlotte!” He took a step backward — and saw the huge plastic Christmas tree start swaying dangerously, although he still stood more than a few feet away from it.
“Come here!” Ben whispered. He reached into the empty space in front of him. “Come on.” His fingers touched soft fur and leather. Immediately he grabbed it.
“Ben?” Charlotte appeared from behind a mountain of gingerbread tins. “Have you got it?”
“Quick!” Ben called back. “I can’t hold on.”
The invisible reindeer struggled against Ben’s grip.
Helplessly he stumbled after it, straight toward that blasted plastic tree. The thing started rocking like a real tree in a storm. Then it leaned to one side, and ornaments and tinsel began raining from the branches. People started screaming and the crowd sca
ttered.
The sales assistant stomped toward Ben, fuming.
But he was still holding on, while Twinklestar was nearly pulling him over.
“Climb on his back!” Charlotte shouted. “Quick!”
And suddenly Ben saw her sitting above him in the air, waving him wildly toward her.
But before he could get to her, someone grabbed his arm.
“Got you, you little devil!” the sales assistant screamed. “Look at this tree. That’s going to cost your parents a fortune!”
His parents! With a last desperate effort, Ben pulled himself free and reached for Charlotte’s hand. The next moment he was sitting behind her on the back of the invisible reindeer. The assistant stared up at them, her mouth wide open.
“Ho!” cried Charlotte, and tugged at Twinklestar’s bridle. “Ho! Ho! Ho!” The reindeer leaped into the air, nearly throwing the children off again. Then it reared up and vaulted over the crowd. As light as a feather it pranced through the air, ten feet above the tables and racks. Ben nearly hit his head on a huge neon angel that hung from the ceiling.
The excited voices underneath them had fallen silent. Only the loudspeakers were still blaring out their Christmas music. Men, women, and children gazed silently into the air as Ben and Charlotte floated through the Christmas decorations on the invisible reindeer.
Only when Twinklestar flew up the escalator was the spell finally broken.
“Great trick!” someone shouted.
“Do that again!” a child called.
But Ben and Charlotte had already vanished. Twinklestar had galloped through the door and landed on the pavement before anyone in the store had time to realize what was happening.
“You ride ahead!” Charlotte called, slipping from Twinklestar’s back. “I’ll get Mutt.” Twinklestar leaped forward again.
Ben looked back toward Charlotte and just managed to see her untie the madly barking dog before the reindeer began cantering down the next side street.
“Whoa!” Ben cried, pulling the reins with all his might. “Stop! Stop, I said.”
Much to his surprise, Twinklestar did indeed slow down, and stopped with a snort in front of a big hedge.
Without letting go of the reins, Ben slipped down to the ground. “See what I’ve got!” He pulled the remaining marzipan from his pocket and held it in the air.
That was how he coaxed Twinklestar to the next lamppost. With trembling fingers he tied the invisible reins to it. Done! He looked around nervously. Luckily the reindeer had landed him in a very small side street. There was no one to be seen.
“Boy, oh boy!” Ben moaned. Exhausted, he leaned against the lamppost and closed his eyes.
A few minutes later Charlotte came running down the road with Mutt. “Have you still got it?” she panted.
Ben nodded. “Tied to the lamppost. It’s trying to eat my jacket.”
Charlotte gave him a relieved smile. “We handled that quite well, didn’t we?”
“We did!” said Ben. And they smiled at each other. Proudly. Then they untied Twinklestar and made their way back to the caravan. Back to Niklas Goodfellow.
Santa’s Workshop
Niklas?”
Nobody answered when Ben knocked on the caravan door.
“Maybe he’s gone for a walk,” Charlotte suggested. “Or don’t Santas do that?”
Twinklestar was nibbling at Charlotte’s hair again. She pushed his wet nose away and looked around. Niklas Goodfellow was nowhere to be seen. Only a fat man, loaded with shopping bags, was struggling down the street. Before Charlotte knew what was happening he had bumped straight into Twinklestar’s furry bottom.
“Humph!” he said, and dropped all his bags and packages. He looked around, flabbergasted, but the only suspicious things in sight were the two children.
Charlotte yanked on the reindeer’s harness. “Quick, let’s go inside!” she hissed at Ben. “That man’s already giving us very funny looks.”
It was completely dark inside the caravan when Ben opened the painted door. Only one little candle burned on the table. Next to it stood Niklas’s coffee mug. But there was no sign of the Santa himself. The door of the wardrobe on which the angels usually sat was ajar, and a slim ray of light fell across the worn carpet. Ben cast a worried glance toward the White Door, but it was still firmly locked. “Strange,” he mumbled.
Charlotte climbed into the caravan, yanking at the reindeer’s reins. “That man’s still staring!” she whispered. “Come on, Twinklestar! Please!”
Ben came to her aid. The reindeer resisted, and they heard its hooves slip on the stairs, but then finally it squeezed through the door — and became visible. His fur was as white as milk, his nose covered in marzipan, and his antlers festooned with Christmas decorations from the department store.
“Oh look!” Charlotte breathed. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
“Hmm.” Twinklestar licked Ben’s nose. “But I wonder if he’s allowed inside.”
Charlotte flushed. “I … I thought at least this way he can’t run away again.”
Ben shrugged and looked around.
“There really is no one here at all!” Charlotte said, surprised.
“That’s what I said.” Ben pushed Twinklestar’s hairy bottom out of the way and walked over to the open wardrobe. Strange sounds came from inside: tiny voices, little hammers, and the pattering of small feet.
“Do you hear that?” Charlotte whispered.
Ben nodded and cautiously peered through the crack. The inside of the wardrobe was brightly lit.
“What can you see?” Charlotte asked, but Ben didn’t answer. What he saw would have left anybody speechless. Charlotte peered over his shoulder — and was as dumbfounded as Ben.
The old wardrobe was the entrance to Niklas Goodfellow’s Christmas workshop.
The room behind the wardrobe doors wasn’t large — hardly bigger than the rest of the caravan. But it glittered like a treasure chest. It smelled of glue and beeswax, and there were toys, lots of tiny, amazing toys, piled right up to the red ceiling. The toys were stacked on shelves, in wooden chests, and in baskets. Some hung from the ceiling in big nets while others simply floated through the room on small carpets the size of handkerchiefs. The whole place was lit by candles, hundreds of candles, which illuminated the workbenches of the elves. There were lots more elves, so many more than the ones Ben had seen so far. Most of them were hammering, filing, sawing. Others were standing on the shelves, wrapping the tiny toys in silk paper, or piling up the finished ones to make space for more.
Niklas Goodfellow, in his threadbare Santa coat, was sitting in the middle of all the commotion. He was leaning over a rickety table writing in a small notebook. On a shelf above him, a seven-armed candelabra dripped wax into his hair and Matilda and Emmanuel were sitting on his shoulders.
Who knows how long the two children would have stood there, gazing with hungry eyes at the scene in front of them, if Twinklestar hadn’t licked Ben’s nose again.
Ben sneezed so loudly that the angels fluttered up from Niklas’s shoulders in fright. Niklas spun around and the elves dropped their hammers.
“Oh, it’s just the children!” Matilda exclaimed with relief. The fear immediately vanished from all their faces. The elves continued hammering, and Niklas waved at Ben and Charlotte cheerfully. Matilda fluttered over to them.
“Well, you really made us jump!” she twittered. “Everybody knows that the big Nutcrackers sneeze when they smell a real Santa.”
“The big Nutcrackers?” Charlotte asked.
“Just forget it, my child!” Matilda replied hastily. “Even talking about them brings nothing but bad luck. Come in! Welcome to Santa’s workshop.”
The angel looked around with pride. “Isn’t it all just splendid? I can hardly believe all this was built by these silly little men.”
“Oi!” one of the elves shouted. “Careful what you’re saying now, angel!”
“Real gnomes!” Charlotte whispered. “Re
al, living gnomes!”
“Those are actually Christmas elves,” Ben said. He grabbed Twinklestar’s reins. “Look, Niklas, we brought someone with us.”
Twinklestar struggled, but with their combined strength the children managed to drag him through the wardrobe doors and into the workshop.
“Twinklestar, Twinklestar!” Shaking his head, Niklas put his arm around the reindeer’s neck. “Look at the state of you! Your love of marzipan is going to be the end of you one day — and of us as well. Why can’t you get that into your furry head?”
The reindeer gave Niklas a shove with his nose. Then he snorted and licked his hairy lips.
“Yes, and now you’re trying to get into my good book again!” Niklas said. “But thanks to you we’re up to our necks in trouble. Next time we fly into a storm, just come into the caravan instead of bolting off into the clouds like that.”
“Or we’ll turn you into reindeer salami, that’s a Christmas elf’s promise!” Rufflebeard shouted, slamming his hammer onto the workbench.
“Someone knocked on the White Door today,” Matilda whispered to the children. “Three times!” Her voice trembled.
Ben looked anxiously at Niklas.
“What white door?” Charlotte asked.
But Niklas just put a finger to his lips and gently led the children over to one of the shelves. “Matilda, give Twinklestar some hay, will you?”
“What? As a reward for running away? Really, Niklas!” Matilda scolded. “He’s getting far too fat, anyway. Nearly as round as his previous owner.” But obediently she flew to a big sack and returned with a big bundle of hay. “There!” she said, throwing it in front of Twinklestar. “I wish Niklas had left you with Gruesome Goblynch. The two of you were the perfect match!”
The reindeer snapped at Matilda with his big yellow teeth.
“Did you see that, Niklas?” she shrieked. “Did you see? He’s sneaky, that’s what he is. Is that the proper kind of behavior for Santa’s reindeer? No!”
“Then stop insulting him,” Niklas said. “After all, it’s not his fault he was Gerold’s reindeer once.”
When Santa Fell to Earth Page 4
