by Caleb Huett
I shook my head. “Sorry.”
“Don’tevenworryaboutit.”
The door to the conference room opened and Santa walked in.
For the first time ever, a room with Santa in it got quieter. Usually people cheer, or he’s having to walk-and-talk for Christmas, or he’s doing inspections of The Workshop, or something, anything, but instead he stood in silence while everyone shifted uncomfortably and stared at him.
This was the first time I’d seen him since the competition had started, and it was with all ten other competitors. Everything felt really real, really fast. We were even dressed like him.
This was very weird.
Klaus broke the silence first. “This is ridiculous. You know that, right? You know this is ridiculous.”
Santa looked very tired. He smiled at Klaus anyway. “Trust me, son. There’s a reason for everything.”
“Really? Please tell me the reason you had us work for weeks on suits just to make us dance like windup toys for the public.”
Sally put a hand on his shoulder. “Klaus, this isn’t the time—”
He swatted her hand away and stared straight at his father. “No, I mean it. Is this some kind of game to you? Do you really hate me this much?”
Santa winced. Sally stepped in front of Klaus. I saw most of the other competitors pretend the floor was suddenly really interesting, but I couldn’t look away.
“Klaus, I’m serious,” Sally said. “This is a conversation for the family.”
“Yeah, fine. You’re right. I shouldn’t have left you out.” He stepped around her and got up in Santa’s face. I had never seen anyone angry with Santa. Not like this. “Sally doesn’t even want to be here, Dad. She feels forced to do this because she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
Santa scratched his beard and looked at Sally, who was staring at the ceiling.
“Is this true?” he asked.
“No, it’s—”
Klaus interrupted her again. “It’s true.”
“You don’t get to say how I feel, Klaus!”
Kurt finally stepped up. “Bro, chill.” He pulled a candy stick out of the pack in his sleeve and offered it to Klaus. “Here.”
Klaus took it and crunched on it loudly and angrily. It didn’t seem to help his mood, but at least he stopped interrupting Sally.
She said, “I just want to make things, Dad. I like toys. I like The Workshop, and the elves.”
Santa stepped closer to her. “But you’d be so good at it.”
Sally’s eyes flipped to the ground, and she sighed like she’d heard that a million times. “Yeah, maybe. But so what?” She finally worked up the courage to look at Santa in the eyes. “I don’t want to do it. Can that be enough?”
Santa tugged at his beard and looked at her with stern eyes. Everybody held their breath. He stepped forward, held his arms out, and pulled her into a huge hug.
Something in his suit beeped, and he pushed her away very quickly and reached inside.
“One second.” His hand rummaged around until something beeped again. “Smoke bombs. Would have ruined the moment.”
Sally laughed and pulled her dad in for another hug. “You already ruined the moment, Dad.”
Celia leaned over to me and whispered, “Should we have put smoke bombs in our suits?”
I whispered, “Shh, shh, I’m watching them hug!!”
She swatted my hands. “Stop biting your fingernails.”
I put my hands in my pockets and tried not to get all teary again.
“Well, what about Kurt?” Klaus had finished his candy stick. “He doesn’t care, either. He’s just doing this to bother me. Literally everything in his suit was built to counteract mine.” I looked at Kurt again. It didn’t even look like he was wearing a suit. Kurt must have been a better designer then I realized.
“Is that true?” Santa asked.
Kurt shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Well, that’s very funny, and I completely support it.”
“WHAT?!” Klaus yelled.
Santa sighed. “I’m kidding, son. I—” He looked around at all of us, then opened his mouth to continue.
Klaus didn’t let him. “Again: Do you hate me? Do you really think I can’t do this?”
Santa’s eyes cut down and to the side, like he was thinking, but also a little sad. “This is as good a time as any, I guess.”
Celia and I looked at each other. Time for what? Does he really not think Klaus can do it?
“Every single one of you would be a great Santa. Even you, Klaus. I think you’re a natural leader, and you work harder than I ever have.”
Klaus threw up his hands. “Then why—”
Santa looked at him like a dad does, and Klaus got quiet.
“I didn’t decide on the Trials because I don’t think you could be Santa, Klaus. I did it because I shouldn’t have been.”
That got everyone’s attention. What?
“I’m not a good Santa. I don’t even like the job. I wish you had felt comfortable telling me sooner, Sally—I would never force this on you. Being Santa is tough work. You know what I love? Sleighs. I love flying, and racing, and working with the reindeer. The night before Christmas is amazing. But the rest of it? The planning, and the meetings, and all the paperwork! So much paperwork!” He took his hat off and wiped some sweat off of his brow. “Mrs. Claus has been doing most of that, honestly. She has a knack for it I’ve never had. And it’s not fair to her, because she has her own things to do.” He stared at the floor for a second, then looked at Klaus right in the eyes. “My name isn’t Santa. It’s just Matt. And it should have stayed Matt.”
Everyone was dead silent. There was nothing to say. Santa took off his little round spectacles for a moment to wipe his eyes.
“So that’s a warning for all of you. Being Santa is tough. There’s a lot more to it than you think. It’s a heavy stocking cap for one head.” He laughed, just a little. “It needs to go to the person most qualified. Maybe that’s you, Klaus, but if it isn’t, and someone else in this room is better for the job, isn’t it best for the North Pole, for Christmas, that they become Santa?”
Klaus didn’t answer. He stared at Santa’s—Matt’s?—feet. Santa walked over and hugged him around his shoulders, but Klaus didn’t move.
Santa cleared his throat and looked at each of us in the eyes one at a time. “Anyway. I came here to tell all of you that every challenge this week is going to push you to your limits. Like my letter said, be prepared for anything. Let’s go, Sally.” He fist-bumped with Kurt, then walked to the door held open for him by the serious-looking elf man. “I’m excited to see what happens. And I’m excited to meet the next Santa, whether they’re Santa Claus, or Santa Gremlin, or Pixie, or Brownie, or Fae, or Gnome.”
I got chills when he said my last name. Celia reached over and squeezed my hand. Sally waved as the door shut behind Santa. The whole room felt like it was full of Jell-O that nobody wanted to move through.
The boy in the beige sweater, whose name I didn’t remember, and who I didn’t know was standing right next to me, said, “I guess even Santa forgot my name, huh? At least we’re friends, Ollie.”
This is a horrible nightmare situation that I will never be able to fix. “Yeah, totally.”
Klaus looked around at all of us. “This doesn’t change anything. I’m still going to win.”
Buzz snorted. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Claus.”
Looking around at the room made me nervous. Everyone was so smart, and tough, and talented. Santa’s voice kept ringing in my ears.
My name is Ollie, I thought. Is it going to stay that way?
The challenges were all held in the Reindeer Games Stadium and Spa Resort. All in our Big Red Suits, the ten of us gathered on the field. Ahead of us were two straight lines of big, featureless gray boxes with chimneys of different sizes and shapes poking out of the tops.
Rudolph was waiting for us when we arrived. Since Celia and I had be
en first in the sleigh race, he made us team captains.
“I’ll take Buzz,” Celia started.
“Uh, Kurt,” I said.
“Gadzooks.”
“Ramp.”
“Frank.”
“Klaus.”
“Andrea.”
“That leaves me!” The boy in the beige sweater walked cheerfully over to my team. “What a good group.”
Klaus rolled his eyes. Kurt rolled his eyes and made a goofy face to make fun of him. Klaus started rolling his eyes again, and Kurt mimicked him again, this time rolling his whole body at the same time as his eyes. Klaus almost rolled his eyes at that, but caught himself and just grumbled.
Rudolph shone his nose as bright as it would go, getting our attention.
“Each of you wannabes will pick one of the chimneys,” Rudolph explained in his robotic drone. “Each chimney has a different challenge, and at the end of the chimney is a room with a tree. Press the button under the tree, and a buzzer will sound, signaling your next teammate to drop down theirs. One of the members of the losing team will be randomly chosen and eliminated from the competition. Understood?”
“Randomly?” Celia scrunched up her face at Rudolph, which was very brave because he was terrifying. “Are you serious? That’s not fair!”
He swiveled his dark eyes at her. “Are you questioning my challenge, Pixie?”
Celia huffed but didn’t say anything else. We all split up and picked our chimneys. Celia and I both chose the last box in our line, with a simple redbrick chimney on the top. The rest of our teammates took their places along the line.
The start buzzer sounded. Buzz and Kurt jumped down their black metal cylinders. There was a loud clanging as they went down, and a huge cloud of soot flew out. A few more seconds of clanging, and then a steady stream of smoke started coming out of the top.
Fire??? I thought. Are they being set on fire?!
Buzz’s box lit up, and the buzzer sounded, sending Gadzooks down her chimney. Ramp was still waiting on Kurt, and I started to get worried as the smoke churned out of the top. Buzz shimmied out of his chimney and fell on top of the gray box, gasping for breath and covered in soot.
Kurt’s buzzer sounded. Phew. Ramp jumped down into his chimney: a wide, clear one. There was a loud splash, and his chimney sealed closed at the top. The entire gray box turned over sideways—like I saw had already happened on Celia’s side—and the clear chimney filled up with water.
Can Ramp even swim? I thought. Apparently, he could swim even better than Gadzooks; their two boxes lit up and buzzed within seconds of each other. Frank and the boy with the beige sweater were next. Each of their boxes had two very long chimneys they had already climbed to the top of.
They both jumped in, and a moment later, the boxes shook, rolled over, and stood up on their chimneys. Using the chimneys as legs, the boxes ran around the field in a way that didn’t seem to follow any particular pattern. They even crashed into each other a few times, fell on their backs like toddlers, then wobbled back up and started running again.
I looked over to Ramp and Gadzooks, who were sliding out of their clear chimneys, followed by a rush of water. They were both soaking wet, and Ramp had a little crab wearing a sea captain’s hat clamped onto his nose.
“Off! Off! Get off, you!” Ramp jumped around and finally knocked the crab off. The crab picked its hat off the ground and scurried back up the cube and into the chimney.
Frank’s cube buzzed and lit up. It flopped over onto the ground and wiggled its chimney legs in a little dance. The other cube ran around it in circles for a few more laps and then buzzed and lit up. It flopped over on the ground and danced, too.
Klaus dropped down into his yellow chimney a few seconds after Andrea. I waited for a few seconds, but there was no sound. There was no movement. Nothing happened for the next five minutes.
Or the next ten minutes.
Or the next two hours. Finally, Andrea’s box buzzed, and she climbed out, quietly. She sat down on the top of the gray box and leaned against the chimney. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Klaus still wasn’t finished, but Celia didn’t go down her chimney yet.
“What are you doing?” Frank yelled at her. “Get in there!”
Celia acted like she didn’t hear him. She winked at me. We stood there for another ten minutes while Celia’s team yelled for her to hurry up. She just yawned.
Finally, Klaus’s buzzer sounded, and he climbed out of the chimney quietly, just like Andrea had. He looked very, very tired. I looked over at Celia, and she held up three fingers. Three … two … one!
We jumped into the chimney.
And didn’t fall. My eyes were still peeking out over the top. Celia shrugged with her eyebrows, and then I saw her head disappear, so I looked down and crouched, too. The chimney became a small tunnel I had to climb through, just barely big enough for my body. I tapped my belt and shrunk my suit so it was more formfitting and pushed myself forward.
Shuffling on my hands and knees was slow but steady. I thought I heard something like chittering in the darkness, but I ignored it and kept moving forward. My hand felt a drop-off in front of me, so I twisted around awkwardly and lowered my feet down. Even with my fingertips just barely gripping the edge, I couldn’t feel the bottom, so I took a deep breath and let go.
I expected to hit the ground right away, but the fall was way farther than I could have planned for. I pressed my belt and focused on an image: cushy shoes and a big cape. I grabbed the corners of the cape and tossed it over my head so it would catch some of the air as I fell and slow me down. My shoes ballooned into big shoes with huge soles full of air, and when I finally hit the ground they took most of the force and deflated.
The chimney took a hard turn sideways again, so I crouched down and crawled some more. I heard the echo of quiet chittering come down the chute. The metal down here felt warmer somehow, so I formed gloves over my hands to protect myself. A few more feet forward, and it felt even hotter—I thickened the gloves into oven mitts and formed knee pads over my legs. Another few shuffles and the heat was unbearable! I had to get off the floor.
I lifted up one hand and focused. The palm of the glove reshaped into a big suction cup, which I tried against the roof. It held! I did the same with my other hand and then my knees. I crawled along the ceiling, holding myself tight to the top so I wouldn’t touch the bottom of the chimney, which was glowing with the heat and making me sweat.
The chimney sharply turned straight back up, which I expected at this point. I pushed all the fabric straight down to my feet, forming longer and longer stilts that raised me up the long chimney chute. I felt the corner at the top, pulled myself over …
And was face-to-face with a squirrel. A very cute, very small squirrel with wide eyes and a bushy tail that was twice as big as its body. It held both little paws out to me and chittered.
“Aw, hey, little friend.” I tried not to make any sudden movements. “I kinda need to keep moving past you.”
The squirrel chittered and pushed its paws out closer to me.
“I don’t have any nuts or anything.”
It cocked its head to one side, then darted forward to sniff at my fingers. I lifted my palms up to show I didn’t have anything. “No. Nuts,” I explained it slower this time. “I’m. Sorry.”
It flipped my left hand over and back, then went to my other hand and flipped it, too. It looked up at my face and I swear I saw its big eyes narrow.
“I’m gonna … go …” I started shuffling past it and tried to lift my arm gently over the squirrel so I could try moving around it. It chittered a little louder and slipped through my arms to get in front of me again. “Excuse me, please!” I started moving again. It crouched low to the ground and flicked its huge tail back and forth. It growled. “Oh geez. Please calm down! I’m sorry!”
I tried to pull myself backward, away from it, but as soon as I moved, it leapt up and latched onto my nose with its te
eth.
“Ow!” I reached up to grab it, but it slipped out of my fingers and bit my ear. I tried to swat it away, but it grabbed the back of my hand and bit my fingers, too. I tried to push myself forward to get away from it, but the squirrel kept circling around my body, scratching and biting. I focused and shifted the suit to cover all my exposed skin, but the squirrel moved fast enough to get inside and started going even crazier trapped under my clothes.
I slammed against the walls of the chimney, trying to get out, yelling for the squirrel to leave me alone.
“Stop, please! STOP! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!”
A lit sign swung down from the ceiling and hit me in the face. I rubbed my nose and looked at it. SHHH! YOU’LL WAKE THE CHILDREN!
“WHAT?!”
Another sign swung down and hit me on the back of the head. I whirled around to look at it. The squirrel kept struggling inside my suit.
I SAID SHH! SANTA NEEDS TO BE QUIET!
“I’m trying, but there’s a—ouch!—squirrel in here trying to kill me!”
A third, smaller sign folded out from the first sign and poked me in the nose. I WARNED YOU!
A low rumbling came from the end of the chimney. The signs folded up out of the way, but before I could worry about what was coming, I had to deal with the squirrel that was currently rolling around near my armpit.
I focused hard on the fabric around that space, and it separated and reformed behind the squirrel, pushing it out. I imagined a hand, grasping the squirrel, and the fabric in my armpit stretched out into five fingers that gently held on to it around its tummy. The squirrel struggled and bit on the hand, but since it was made of fabric, I couldn’t feel it.
Okay, I thought. I’m scratched and beat up, and I’ve got a hand coming out of my armpit, but at least I’ve still got my positive attitude.
The rumbling got louder. A strong gust of wind started blowing, and I came dangerously close to losing my positive attitude. I got knocked back, but before I could fall back down the chute, I panicked and expanded my suit, cramming fabric into all four corners of the chimney with me in the middle. I braced my feet on the floor and pushed forward, fighting against the strong wind. I looked like a big red cube sliding down the hallway (a cube with three hands and an angry squirrel attached to the front).
