“I still think someone drugged my drink when I wasn’t looking,” Joe says.
“Do the zombies try to get in?” Hugo asks.
“Generally no, they’re quite calm zombies. I think the sound of our bells soothes them. They occasionally get a bee in their bonnet about something and start hurling themselves at the glass, but I assure you all it’s completely shatterproof.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” I mutter.
“Where is this glass?” Luke asks. “Can we see it? Because I find it really difficult to believe that you all live inside a snow globe.”
“It’s just a giant glass dome. We thought you might prefer to think of it as a snow globe.”
“As opposed to what? Prison walls?”
“Now, don’t be like that, Mr Wyatt. We’ll show you everything, if you could all stop arguing for five minutes.”
“Does it ever stop snowing?” Hugo asks as he looks up at the sky.
“Not at this time of year. It’s the North Pole,” Tinsel says.
“And we’re inside a snow globe. Duh,” Joe adds.
Everyone is quiet as we follow the elves down the street. Even I have to admit it’s very pretty here. Snow, elves, sparkling lights, even the low sound of bells isn’t bothering me as much as I thought it would.
“Don’t worry, you’ll find your way around in no time. It’s a very small village. And the rest of the elves are always friendly, so don’t be scared to ask anyone for directions.”
“Don’t you have grumpy elves? How come the elves are always friendly?”
“Because they’re happy, Hugo. You might not think so, but Christmas makes people happy and we elves have Christmas cheer all year round.”
I fight the urge to make puking noises.
“That’s where the stables are.” Tinsel points out a little path on our left. “We love the reindeer, but we do have to house them a little bit further away than we’d like because they’re smelly creatures, really.”
“Smellier than you’d think,” Navi jokes. “People hear ‘Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer’ and think how great Rudolph is and how cute his red nose is, but they don’t stop to think about how smelly his stable gets. The others too. I don’t know what we feed Comet and Blitzen, but personally I think we should stop.”
Emily laughs at that.
“And this is the factory where all the toys are made. Things are always busy in there as we have such a big order on such a close deadline. The elves work hard, but they always seem to be in a panic the closer it gets to Christmas. We’ve never failed an order yet and we don’t intend to start now.”
Walking further on, Tinsel points out the post office. They have a whole building and a team of elves dedicated to sorting and sending mail.
“And that building over there is the N and N headquarters.”
“What’s N and N?” Luke asks and receives a look like he’s the stupidest person in the world from Tinsel.
“Naughty and Nice. That’s where they read the case files and divide the list into naughty and nice children,” she tells us.
“And check it twice,” Navi adds.
“What happens to the naughty ones?” I ask.
“Lump of coal in the stocking, obviously. Although to be honest, this Santa is being much harsher this year. We are finding ourselves with more naughty children than ever before.”
“Which makes the whole N and N Intelligence system, which we work so hard to run, completely invalid. We keep trying to have words with him, but this Santa is nothing if not stubborn,” Tinsel says. “And that there is the—”
“Wait,” Luke interrupts. “Twice now you’ve said ‘this Santa’. Is Santa not the same all the time? Does he change?”
“You will learn, dear boy, you will learn,” Navi tells him cryptically.
“The two buildings to our right here, one is the packaging factory because the toys don’t package themselves, you know. The other building is top secret.”
“Can we go in?” Hugo asks.
“Not yet. Once you have been here a while you will be able to watch the training, but it is simply not viable for any of you to participate. It’s a system that requires elves with speed and great talent.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the black-ops.” Despite Tinsel casting him a look, Navi continues, “We may as well tell them, my love, they’re going to find out anyway.”
She huffs and looks away.
“They’re a secret team,” Navi says. “Like ninjas, but better. They spend all year training for just one night—Christmas Eve. They are the black-ops elf team for chimney-related emergencies.”
“What the hell is a chimney-related emergency?” Luke asks.
I can’t help giggling. “Do you mean if Santa gets stuck in a chimney?”
They nod.
“Does he get stuck in a lot of chimneys?” I can’t hide the laughter that comes out at the very thought.
“It depends on how many cookies and glasses of milk he consumes on the run. We elves might have a certain amount of magic, but we can’t speed up his digestion, unfortunately.”
Everyone giggles except for Emily.
“Digestion is no laughing matter,” she says disapprovingly. Then she starts looking around like she’s freaked out. “Did you hear a quack?”
That only serves to make the rest of us laugh even more.
“There are no ducks here,” Tinsel says. “We’re elves—we have no need for ducks.”
“Ducks are everywhere,” Emily says. “You might not always see them, but they are always there.”
And to think she seemed semi-normal for a while there.
“This street leads to the elf housing area. Each elf has a cosy little apartment of their own, which are inside some rather large housing complexes. About a hundred apartments in each one.”
“That place must be huge,” Joe says.
“They’re very small apartments. We’re elves, so we don’t take up as much space as you massive humans do.”
“Don’t you ever get sick of the snow?” Luke asks as we carry on walking.
“Snow is a part of Christmas and we could never get sick of Christmas.”
“But it’s so cold,” says Hugo.
“We’ll look into getting you a warmer coat. We do understand that even with our weather system it can take humans a while to adjust to these conditions.”
“I don’t feel cold at all,” Luke says.
“That’s because you have elf blood running through your veins, dear boy,” Navi tells him.
“I knew you were one of them,” Joe says nastily.
“I’m not one of them,” Luke protests. “I wish I hadn’t said anything now.”
“Elf Boy,” Joe calls him.
I see Luke has balled his hands into fists, probably to stop himself hitting Joe in the face.
Somehow, I don’t think it will be long before those two have a bust-up.
“Being an elf is not an insult,” Tinsel says. “You should be proud, Luke. You have something that very few other humans have.”
“Freak,” Joe mutters.
“Please don’t say that anymore, Joe,” Tinsel says. “Being an elf is not freakish. You are currently surrounded by a village full of elves. You won’t be a happy bunny if they hear you calling them freaks.”
“Ahh, I could take ’em all. They’re so bloody small I could probably take the whole lot of ’em at once.”
“Fighting isn’t allowed at the North Pole,” Tinsel says.
“This is the kitchen,” Navi says as we walk past a gorgeously scented building with warm, woody-smelling smoke coming out of its chimney. “I hope you all like cooking—Mrs Claus needs all the help she can get over the next couple of weeks.”
“Don’t think she’ll need my help. I could burn water,” Joe says.
“Then it’ll be good for you to learn a new skill,” Tinsel replies.
“Where are the bells coming from?” Emily asks.
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“There’s an elf band,” Navi says. “They play on the grandstand in the centre of the village.”
“All day long?”
“Of course. They start at eight in the morning and finish at nine at night.”
“God, that’s mad. Don’t they get cold?”
“They’re elves. They’re employed to play Christmas songs on their bells all day. They only stop playing for their lunch break, at which time they broadcast the Chilly Chunes radio station from the loudspeaker so no one misses out on any music.”
“Don’t you ever get sick of it? I mean, we’ve been walking around for ten minutes and I’ve already heard the same song three times,” Luke says.
“Christmas music is beautiful and the band is very talented, dear boy,” Navi says. “It helps to spread Christmas cheer.”
“Come on, everyone. It’s nearly dinner time, and you still have to meet Santa.”
“Nothing will get you into the festive spirit like a full belly on a cold day,” Navi says. “And a stitch in time is better than a poke in the eye.”
CHAPTER 7
They lead us into a big building, and the first thing that strikes me is that it’s like walking into a school canteen. Or the first storey of hell.
Firstly it’s warm. Secondly it’s noisy. Very, very noisy. There are elves sitting at every table, talking, laughing, and singing. Two elves are playing a piano just inside the main entrance, doing a Bing-Crosby- and-David-Bowie-style duet of “Little Drummer Boy”.
“Follow us. You must meet Santa,” Tinsel says as she and Navi beckon us through the crowd. They lead us to a table, and sitting at the table is Santa Claus.
Really.
Just as you would imagine him, maybe a little younger, even though his white beard looks completely genuine, unlike my dad’s when he’s dressed up as Santa for the store.
“Excuse me, sir,” Tinsel says to him. “I have this year’s reform group with me. Would you like to meet them?”
“If I must,” Santa says. “I didn’t realise it was that time of the year already.”
“Well, it is December, sir.”
“I suppose it is. Fine. Bring them over if you have to.”
“They’re already here, sir.” She steps aside as if he hadn’t already seen us.
“Great. More humans in the North Pole. Just what we need.” Santa stands and curtly shakes our hands one by one while Navidad introduces us.
When he gets to Luke, Navi whispers to him, “This is Luke Wyatt, of Elf Ian Wyatt’s bloodline.”
I don’t know if Navidad understands the point of whispering but we all hear every word.
Santa doesn’t let go of Luke’s hand when he shakes it, instead he takes a step back and looks Luke over distastefully. “Yes, yes, I see it,” he says eventually. “What are you doing here? Didn’t your grandfather teach you anything about Christmas?”
“Yes,” Luke says. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“You must like Christmas. If you don’t like Christmas, then you don’t like me, and everyone likes me. Everyone.”
Luke rolls his eyes at me as he steps aside.
“This is Mistletoe Bell,” Navi says when it’s my turn to shake Santa’s hand. “She’s Derek Bell’s daughter, you remember, the team leader from the Bristol branch of store Santas?”
“Not really,” Santa mutters uninterestedly.
“You spoke to him at last year’s Christmas party.”
“They all look the bloody same to me. All trying to emulate me, and not very successfully, I might add.”
“Oi, my dad is a brilliant Santa.”
“But not as good as the real one,” Santa says. “Never as good as the real one.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. Santa is not at all like he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be happy and jolly. Friendly and welcoming. He’s nothing like that. Santa strikes me as a bit of a bastard, to be honest.
“What a disappointing group this year,” Santa says to Tinsel. “One with elf blood and one with a pretend Santa as a father. Of all the people to be ruining Christmas. What is the world coming to? Don’t these people believe in me anymore?” It doesn’t seem to bother him that we can hear every word.
“In all fairness, they are a little above the general believing-in-Santa age range, sir.”
“Well, get them out of my sight, please. I dislike humans in my North Pole, I don’t wish to eat my dinner with them standing there gawping.”
“Yes, sir,” Tinsel says. “We’ll take them to their own table immediately.”
“Good.” Santa sits down again while grumbling under his breath.
Mrs Claus is sitting next to him and she gives us a smile and a cautious wave as Tinsel and Navidad herd us away. They seat us at an empty table towards the end of the hall.
“Well, Santa seems like a delightful creature,” Luke says. “Not quite the jolly ho-ho-ho type I’d imagined him to be.”
“Don’t pay any attention to him, dear boy,” Navidad says. “He’s just stressed from all the Christmas preparations. It’s the elves you’ll be working with anyway, not Santa.”
“Dinner will be served in five minutes,” Tinsel says abruptly, as if to get us off the topic of conversation.
“What is it?” Hugo asks.
“It’s the Christmas special,” Navidad says. “You’ll love it. Everyone loves the food here.”
“I don’t wish to eat my dinner with you humans gawping,” Joe mimics Santa.
“I can see that getting old pretty fast,” Luke whispers in my ear.
“Please don’t mock the boss, Joe,” Tinsel scolds him.
I personally wonder if Joe is feeling all right since he just met Santa and he didn’t ask him his annoying red cube joke. So far it seems he likes to ask everyone he meets.
I can’t help but look around for a while. There’s constant noise: chattering, laughing, and singing. The elves on the piano have moved on to “Lonely This Christmas”, and a few others are singing along like some kind of elf choir. I wonder how they don’t get sick of Christmas songs. How they don’t get sick of everything Christmas, really. They can’t truly do this all year round, can they?
Another bell rings, and elf waiters flood out of the kitchens and start serving everyone. There are so many elves I don’t even realise they’ve come to our table.
“Dinner is served,” an elf waiter announces as he sets a plate down in front of each of us.
I stare at it. It’s two mince pies and a candy cane. “What’s this?”
“It’s a mince pie, duh,” Joe says, butting in.
“Dinner,” Tinsel says as she tucks in happily.
“It’s two mince pies and a candy cane.”
“And yule log for dessert. Isn’t it great?”
“One of the many awesome things about the North Pole is that we get to eat Christmas food all the time,” Navidad says.
“What if you don’t like Christmas food?” Luke asks.
“Well, you’ve come to the wrong place,” Navi replies with a laugh.
“I believe we also have apple pies available if you’d prefer?” Tinsel offers.
Luke waves his hand in a don’t bother motion.
“Wow, this is like the best mince pie ever!” Hugo says.
“Mrs Claus is a wonderful cook.”
“She made all this? By herself?”
“Of course, Mistletoe. She’s Mrs Claus.” Tinsel says it like that explains everything.
Oh well.
I eat the pies on my plate and suck on the candy cane. I hate both mince pies and candy canes. My mum loves them, so they’re things that are always in ample supply in our house at this time of year.
Next they bring us out a huge chunk of yule log each. It’s chocolatey and creamy, so I eat that happily. Chocolate is something I can always get behind no matter what time of year it is.
“Do you guys eat like this every day?” Luke asks.
“We sure do,” Na
vidad says.
“Do you ever have the big Christmas roast dinner?” Joe asks. “That’s the best bit about Christmas, the roast. I like a nice roast, I do.” He glances at Emily. “Usually duck.”
Emily whacks him on the arm.
“We have a traditional roast on Christmas day,” Tinsel says. “Just because it’s a really special occasion.”
“How can it be a really special occasion if you celebrate it all year round?” Luke asks.
“We don’t celebrate it all year, we prepare for it and enjoy it all year round.”
We’re all silent for a while, listening to the elves singing and chattering. I can’t even comprehend how surreal this all is.
When dinner is over, if you could call two mince pies and a candy cane dinner, Tinsel and Navi start leading us back to our quarters.
Luke falls into step beside me. “Hi.” His green eyes sparkle under the Christmas lights.
“Hi,” I say shyly.
“So this place is messed up, right?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Really strange.”
“I feel like you’re the only normal one here. Is that weird?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Nothing has been exactly normal today.”
“Tell me about it. I wish I could figure out what’s going on.”
“Are you buying everything they’re telling us?” I ask quietly.
He shrugs. “It’s too impossible to believe, and yet I have no other explanation. The fact is I’m in a cold, snowy place, surrounded by elves. You and I both know that shit like this doesn’t exist, but somehow we’re looking at it, you know? I’m not a kid, I haven’t believed in Santa since I was like, four years old, but I just met him. So either this is for real or they’ve put a hell of a lot of time, money, and effort into a very elaborate prank.”
“I’m leaning towards the prank angle,” I admit. “Not that I know who would do it or why they’d want to, but none of this makes sense to me.”
“Me neither, but these elves… they do remind me of my grandfather, and he wasn’t a prank, and neither are my ears, sadly.”
“Your ears are cute,” I say, then blush from head to toe when I realise what I’ve said.
Luke smiles. “Thank you. And for the record, Mistletoe is a pretty name, but I can see why you dislike it.”
North Pole Reform School Page 4
