3. A hot chocolate dispenser only exists in the newer model of the sleigh.
4. There is a compartment marked FUEL with carrots for the reindeer but no compartment marked FOOD with similar supplies for the passengers.
5. The carrots are not meant to be eaten by anyone who is not a reindeer. Any good ideas suggesting otherwise will earn you dirty looks from your elf companions.
In all my eleven years of existence, I have never been anywhere other than the North Pole. You would think having Santa Claus as your father would mean getting to travel around a lot. But the farthest Avery and I have travelled is to the mountains near our house.
Two years before Xander was born, Dad decided to take the two of us on an overnight trip to one of the caves in the mountains. It had all the elements of a terrible vacation, but now that I think about it, it wasn’t that bad.
Dad refused to take us on his sleigh so we had to trek through piles of fresh snow to get to the mountains. Then we had to make our way up the tricky slope to get to the caves. Avery nearly had a heart attack every time he thought he was holding on to solid rock and then it crumbled in his hands and he’d find out it was just snow. Every fifteen minutes he kept screaming at us to not fall to our deaths.
When we finally got to the cave, both of us went inside, collapsed on the floor and insisted we were dying. It was only when Dad laughed and threatened to dump ice-cold water on us that we made any effort to move.
After we got back full function of our limbs, the three of us tried to build a bonfire. Since Mom wasn’t on that trip, we were allowed to roast frozen sausages and chocolate-covered marshmallows. She had tried giving us a picnic dinner but thankfully we had managed to dissuade her. Maybe it was the biting cold or the bitter wind but however much we tried, we couldn’t get a fire going. Finally we gave up and just lay there, looking at the stars.
I still remember, being that high up in the mountains made the stars in the clear night sky seem much closer than they usually did. And I remember Dad telling us that when he’s out on his sleigh flying so close to the stars that he could almost reach out and touch them, it made him feel like he could do anything.
Five-year-old me found that statement as weird then as eleven-year-old me does now. What was Dad talking about? He’s Santa Claus. He can do anything! I was the one who could do with some of that anything-is-possible spirit right now.
‘Oh, come on!’ I exclaimed as the reindeer shifted gears and headed earthward again.We had been away from home for two hours and this was the fifth time they were making an emergency landing.Twice it had been because they were thirsty, once because the younger reindeer started a fight with the older reindeer and the last time they landed was because they got frightened of a flock of geese.
‘Can’t we fix this?’ I turned to face the elves.
Gilmore watched the reindeer with some concern. Coral seemed bored and turned the other way. Bean still looked annoyingly cheerful.
Gilmore wiggled his way to the front of the sleigh, leaned towards the reindeer and muttered something in a soft whisper. He paused as half the reindeer snorted while the other half whinnied excitedly. He then turned to us and sighed. ‘It’s the retirees. The trainees are out of their minds with excitement because it’s their first trip abroad. They want to fly higher and faster. But the older ones are grumpy because they thought their flying days were behind them. All they want to do is return home and rest their hooves.’
‘Typical!’ Coral cried. ‘When I am in charge, such excuses will not be tolerated.’
‘When you’re in charge?’ Bean spluttered.
Coral turned to glare at the reindeer. ‘You are going to do what we want when we want it! Do you understand?’ The sleigh suddenly tipped to the front causing Coral to knock his head against the back of my seat. I could swear the reindeer did it on purpose.
‘You speak reindeer?’ I gaped at Gilmore. Maybe the old elf wasn’t so useless after all.
‘Well, I was at the top of my How to Train Your Reindeer class,’ he offered. ‘You don’t do that without expanding your linguistic base.’
‘Expanding your ling—’ I shook my head. ‘Just, can you please talk to them and get them to behave?’ I pleaded. ‘Tell them I’ll massage their hooves myself when we get back home.’
The thing is, all I had seen my entire life was snow, maybe a smattering of ice now and then, and blizzards for when things got too monotonous. I admit I was the tiniest bit excited about getting to explore a world other than my frozen wonderland. Of course, if given a choice, I would have picked happier circumstances and more normal companions but a girl’s got to work with what she’s given.
‘So where are we heading first?’ I asked Bean. Since Austen had spoken so highly of her inability-to-get-us-lost skills, I figured she was the best person to ask.
Bean frowned at the sleigh’s dashboard, fiddled with the control panel and muttered distractedly, ‘The North American factory is the closest.’
‘Do the reindeer know the way?’ I asked Gilmore.
Bean turned to look at me, bristling with annoyance. ‘I’ve found the most efficient route to get us to all six factories in the least amount of time,’ she said sounding offended. ‘I keyed in the coordinates into my portable GPS device, which is now attached to the sleigh. That’s how the reindeer know where to go.’
‘Oh,’ was all I could manage before she turned back to the control panel, tripped over one of her long scarves and knocked into Gilmore.
You know how in all the movies and drawings they have elves wearing this stupid red-and-green costume? Those artists had clearly never been to the North Pole.
Take my three elf companions for instance. Bean had on a pair of round glasses, which was pretty strange in itself because I had never seen a bespectacled elf before. But over her dress and stockings, she also had three scarves around her neck, one around her waist and another around her head. Given her tendency to trip over thin air, so many accessories reaching her feet didn’t seem like the wisest of ideas.
Coral wore a tailored black suit with a crimson tie. He was probably trying to look intimidating, but with his mop of wavy golden hair and deep blue eyes, he looked more like a corporate angel.
With his tunic, leggings and waistcoat coupled with his long grey beard tucked into his belt, Gilmore looked most like a traditional elf, which wasn’t surprising given how old he was. The dorky-elf look was probably all the rage back when he was a youngling.
Looking at those three, I felt wholly underdressed but then again, I was wearing pyjamas.
‘What exactly are you trying to do?’ Coral asked Bean coldly as she started to pound the dash in frustration.
‘I can’t get the stupid radio to work!’ she cried. ‘How are we supposed to get in touch with the factories to let them know we’re coming? And how do we communicate with headquarters to report our progress?’
‘Headquarters?’ I asked.
Coral looked at me like my brain was made of cotton candy. ‘The North Pole?’
‘Oh.’ I immediately felt about two inches tall. ‘Right. Well, headquarters can wait for our news until we actually have something to tell them. As for the unexpected factory visits, let’s call that a surprise elfish reunion. So how long before we get to North America?’
‘I think we’re here,’ Gilmore replied in a hushed tone as he stared down at the landscape unfolding below us.
I followed his gaze and drew in my breath.
We were leaving behind towering fir trees and heading towards the coast. As we drew nearer to the shore, I could see mounds of golden sand everywhere. At the far end of the beach, in the midst of several tall palm trees, there was what looked like a larger-than-normal beach shack. From what I could make out, the roof of the structure was made of dried coconut palm leaves woven together. The actual building was made of bamboos and more dried leaves.
But what arrested my eyes was the ocean. Right below us lay a vast stretch of water that was c
obalt blue in some areas and a vibrant green in others. The waves dashed against the rocks that lined the farther shores. The evening sun reflected off the water and made it sparkle. The whole view was like nothing I had ever seen before.
I took a deep breath. I could smell the salt in the air. The breeze ruffled my hair and whipped Bean’s scarves around her head.
‘Where are we?’ I asked in a daze.
‘The Golden State,’ Bean said, grinning. ‘Welcome to California.’
6
How not to land a sleigh:
Step 1: Discover that nobody on the sleigh has the slightest idea of how to get it down.
Step 2: Begin a vigorous fight over who gets to land it anyway.
Step 3: Alarm the reindeer with the erratic and constant tugging of their harnesses in opposite directions.
Step 4: Watch as the on-board reindeer specialist boycotts the proceedings to protest being hit on the head by the on-board aspiring villain.
Step 5: Scream in terror with fellow passengers as the confused reindeer crash-land into the Pacific Ocean.
I had read somewhere that hitting water from a staggering height was as good as hitting a cement floor. Luckily for us, Coral, Bean and Gilmore managed to levitate the sleigh to slow us down just enough to prevent our bones from getting crushed on impact.
We would have been stuck in the middle of the ocean if we hadn’t been spotted by a group of elves who were out for a swim. They helped guide the reindeer to the shore and stashed the sleigh behind a clump of palm trees near a deserted cove. The American elves seemed delighted to see us and were completely fascinated by the reindeer. I guess they didn’t have reindeer in California.
We left them to play with the reindeer while one of the elves escorted us to their factory. All this merriment seemed like a great sign. If these elves had time for beachside picnics and gambolling with strange animals, they clearly hadn’t heard about Dad.
Our journey to the factory was fun for about five minutes.
First, the factory was farther away than we had thought. It was cunningly hidden behind a cliff, presumably so that no beachgoer accidentally stumbled upon it. While this was great news for the ongoing secrecy of Dad’s operations, it was not-so-great news for us.
We had to trudge through a long stretch of the beach, follow a narrow path through the cliffs and stumble across some wild shrubs with needle-sharp leaves, all while we were completely drenched from our unintentional dip in the ocean.
Second, the sand that had looked so beautiful from the sky was quickly replacing Coral on my list of major annoyances. At least back home the snow melts if you get some on your body. The sand, however, was happily becoming best friends with every inch of my skin. It got everywhere.
When we finally got to the factory, I was surprised to see it wasn’t a stand-alone structure. Surrounding the main factory was a wide stretch filled with mini beach shacks, sand caves, tree houses and even tents made of leaves. These ramshackle houses stretched beyond what the eye could see. We had walked into a sprawling elf village.
The elf who had accompanied us led us to the door of the factory and left us outside while he went in to get the chief. Door was a little bit of an exaggeration since all it consisted of was pieces of brightly-coloured cloth fluttering down from the ceiling to the floor. The factory building was the same overgrown beach shack I had spotted from the sky.
An elf parted the curtain and stepped outside. He had a mass of long blonde hair that was tangled into twisted ropes. ‘That poor elf’s hair is all knotted up,’ Bean whispered with concern.
‘Those are called dreadlocks,’ I whispered back. ‘He probably had that done to his hair on purpose.’
‘Yikes!’ Bean murmured. ‘They must be dreadfully uncomfortable. Get it? Get it?’ She giggled. I rolled my eyes.
‘My name is Storm,’ the subject of our whispered conversation broke in.‘Welcome to the most populous elf village in the world.’ He gestured at the peculiar commune. ‘I see we have guests from the North Pole. You must be here to tell us the news.’
Uh-oh. I thought these elves had been blissfully unaware of our problem. I looked around at my companions. For people who were possibly about to offer convincing but utterly false words of comfort to a group of panic-stricken elves, we looked like a sorry bunch. All of us were soaked and sandy. Bean had even managed to get some leaves stuck in her hair and mud splattered on her face. We could have done with another tumble into the ocean. At least we’d be cleaner.
‘Are the rumours true?’ Storm looked around at all of us. ‘Is Santa really missing?’
‘Where did you hear that?’ I laughed nervously. ‘I’m his daughter, Noel. All that happened was this year Dad decided to train his kids to take over the family business. I’m in charge of the factory visits.’
I thought that was a pretty clever cover story, considering that I made it up on the spot. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who was feeling clever.
‘He fell off the sleigh and broke his foot,’ Gilmore squeaked. ‘He’s on bed rest.’
‘His sleigh got a little delayed,’ Bean said confidently. ‘It should be here any minute.’
‘He has been kidnapped,’ Coral declared loudly. ‘These fools are lying to you.’
I sank my face into my hands. Too late I realized we should have got our stories straight in the sleigh.We should have also left Coral behind in the ocean. I was afraid to see how Storm took the news. I snuck a peek at him.
‘Come on,’ he said, hurriedly ushering us into the factory. With a confused glance at my companions, I followed him in.
We were greeted by a huge wave of noise. All I could see were distressed elves running in all directions. For some reason, most of them seemed to be barefoot. It was so loud in there that I couldn’t even hear myself think.
‘Is this how they panic when Dad goes missing?’ I wondered out loud. ‘We have to get them under control! Being this upset is definitely not healthy.’
‘Upset?’ Gilmore sounded appalled. ‘They’re not upset!
They’re . . . they’re having . . . fun.’ He was so shocked that he could hardly get the words out.
‘What?’ I took a closer look.
Loud music was blaring from speakers all over the large factory. Different speakers were playing different songs and the elves themselves were singing along to something else altogether, which added to the general pandemonium.
Wildly-dressed elves were everywhere—some had hair dyed in all the colours of the rainbow; others wore head-to-toe feather outfits; a couple of elves had hats that looked like circus tents and I even spotted one dressed like an emperor penguin. In a quiet corner of the factory, a young elf was playing the guitar, surrounded by a circle of lounging companions. In another corner, a makeshift market had sprung up where toy trains and trucks were being used to display fruits and vegetables. A few of the elves were picking up food from the stalls and taking them over to a counter where another elf seemed to be whipping up drinks and snacks for everyone.
The toy-making machines were being used as game props. A group of elves were racing backwards on a conveyor belt, using it as a treadmill. Another group of elves was playing dodge-the-claw with the claw crane that lifted the toys from the floor below the belt and transported them into the sorting machine. The sorting machine itself had been converted into a slide where the elves jumped into a pool of toys at the bottom. A few elves were trying to gift wrap their co-workers at the wrapping station.
Gilmore was right. The elves weren’t panicking, they were partying.
I turned to look down at Storm for an explanation. He grinned up at me in delight.‘So the rumours are true! Santa Claus is missing! Christmas has been cancelled! We’re free! We’ve been celebrating the good news! Would you like a biscuit?’
7
Reasons why the elves were thrilled by the bad news:
1. ‘Christmas just brainwashes us into thinking that making toys is what we want to do fo
r the rest of our lives.’—Storm
2. ‘Just because the North Pole elves are happy with the whole Santa thing doesn’t mean we have to be.’—Acoustic- guitar-playing elf
3. ‘Tradition and society command that Christmas and everything related to it is what elves are meant to do. What if all I want to do is drink strawberry juice and listen to my friend play the guitar?’—Fruit-vendor elf at the market
4. ‘Our parents thought that making toys for children made them the happiest elves in the world. They have clearly never hula-hooped at a dance party in the middle of the factory floor.’—Anonymous gift-wrapped elf
And I thought the North Pole elves were weird. At least they were normal by elf standards—loved to work, loved Santa, loved Christmas. But here, every single elf I spoke to had no intention of getting back to making toys. Nobody was even mildly upset about Dad’s absence. I couldn’t understand it.
Christmas was supposed to be what all elves lived for. From the toymakers to the reindeer trainers, from the post- elves to the sleigh engineers—every elf I knew genuinely loved what they did. They hated getting sick or going on vacation because it took them away from their work. Even Coral’s evil ambition in life was to replace Dad and work even harder than he did now.
Bean and Coral seemed astonished at this unelfish behaviour but Gilmore was downright horrified ‘I . . . they . . . how . . .’ he stammered.
While I could understand his shock, I had more pressing matters to deal with. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and my stomach was telling me that it was not happy. Storm had disappeared into the crowd while I was talking to the elves so I figured that now was a good time to look for food. I spotted an elf carrying a fruit platter and went after him with Gilmore, Bean and Coral behind me.
‘Look at these elves! Look at this factory!’ Gilmore shook his head in disbelief. ‘I have never seen such despicable behaviour in my entire life. It’s one week to Christmas and not a single elf here seems to care! Santa is missing and instead of going into mourning like decent elves, they’re doing the Macarena in the middle of the factory! Where is their sense of duty? Instead of ordering these rebel elves back to work, all the head elf does is offer us biscuits!’
When Santa Went Missing Page 3
