Leo wasn't entirely sure how to take the letter he'd just received. It was addressed to him, in fine, curling script, clearly handwritten, with no return address and, more confusing, no stamp. It wasn't stuffed; it just seemed like a normal Christmas card.
He inspected it as he walked back to his apartment from the mailboxes. From all angles it was a simple letter. Closing his door behind him, he ripped it open, and pulled out the contents.
Instead of a picture of a snow-wrapped field or, perhaps, a cheery manger, the card was blank white, with a silver trim and the letters U-S-E. He opened it. The inside was almost as blank, but there was a box of small text, handwritten incredibly small; Leo had to squint to read it.
"Dear Mr. Larry 'Leo' Anderson," it read. "You have been selected as a local representative of USE, Unlimited Santa Enterprises, for the purposes of ensuring the smooth transition of the Holiday state. You will be tendered a fee of one hundred US dollars daily, until the day of the 26th of December, a total amount of one thousand, six hundred dollars. Given your pre-determined acceptance of this offer, a package will be delivered to you following your completion of this letter."
"Completion of the letter?" Leo asked himself. "The heck does that mean?"
There was a knock at the door, and Leo jumped. He went to it quietly, peering through the crack and seeing nobody. A brown package was on the mat in the building's hall. It bore the same three letters as the card. Leo went into the hall and looked down it, seeing nobody.
Feeling silly and stupid, Leo picked up the package, looking at all of its sides. It was heavy. He brought his ear close to detect any ticking.
Soon he was sitting on his couch with the heavy package on the coffee table. It certainly seemed okay. He picked up his pair of scissors and carefully opened the package's sides. Underneath there was what appeared to be a chest or trunk, small and sturdy. There was no lock or clasp, and it easily opened on silent hinges.
Inside were a number of items Leo didn't have a chance to examine. One of the items, as soon as he caught sight, started beeping and chirping like a cell phone. It was a small plastic rod, and he picked it up. He came to realize it was a headset, and he fit it over his ear. Just as he did so, a picture appeared in the air in front of him, containing a small person wearing red and green. It had pointed ears.
"Hello, Larry. Yes, I'm an elf. You may shut your mouth now. I have in the file that you prefer to be called 'Leo,' is that right?"
Leo, unable to say much, nodded. "Good. My name is Timpani, and I'm your contact."
Leo took the earpiece off and held it away from his head. The picture shifted in his vision, and he saw a squashed and stretched Timpani frown. "Leo, please put the comm unit back on. I need to know that you understand."
After it was back on his ear, she continued. "Thank you. Yes, I am an elf, this is the North Pole, and if you agree to help, you're working for Santa. Please close your mouth, it's unbecoming. Do you follow so far?" Leo nodded again. "Here's the deal. Yes, Santa is magic, but it doesn't exactly work perfectly; nothing does. We need people in heavily-populated areas to help with the planning and assist on Christmas eve. You follow? Good. You're one of three in the area. Bigger areas might need many more, and some don't need any." She sighed and closed her eyes. "What's your first question?"
Leo stuttered at the offer. "How is there something at the North Pole? I mean, there's ice and stuff, but everybody knows there's nothing there."
Timpani nodded. "One, most of our resources are under water. Two, Santa is magic enough to visit every child on Earth in the span of about a day; you don't think we can bribe a few explorers and satellite-handlers to tell everybody there's nothing here?"
"Okay . . . despite the evidence that seems to be in front of me, It seems pretty obvious that Santa isn't real. People buy presents for other people. Santa doesn't really drop down the chimney and leave gifts for everyone, right?"
"Well first, no, not everybody. Just children, those under the age of fourteen. Second, Santa doesn't really leave presents, he leaves something else. You remember Christmas as a kid?" Leo nodded. "Good memories?"
"Of course."
"That's what we do. Santa drops down the chimney -- a challenging quantum feat in itself, don't try to think about it too hard -- and imbues the area with a barely-noticeable piece of magic. Then, a few hours later, kids come down the stairs, our up from the basement, or whatever, and see a magical sight of happiness that they carry with them for the rest of their lives. Christmas, December, becomes a happy time for them just because they remember. That's what Santa delivers, not presents."
"But . . . Santa always has his bag of presents. It's ubiquitous."
"You want to try explaining everything I just told you to some kid? Listen, Santa's in a house, doing his Santa thing, and little Sally and Timmy get up because they need a glass of water, and it's Christmas, and they can't sleep. They see jolly St. Nick kneeling by their tree. You think he doesn't know they're watching?"
"Maybe?" Leo said, feeling left in the dust.
"He knows. He knows who's been naughty and nice, for Pete’s sake, he knows when he's being spied on. So, he turns around, puts a final present down on the pile, throws them a wink, and holds a finger to his lips. All that's left in his wake is an empty glass of milk, drained by dad after the kids went to bed, and an extra present that, what do you know, they can't seem to agree the next morning, which one it was."
Leo blinked, and blinked again.
"Follow so far?"
He nodded, partially-aware the creature on the other end of the video was aware not only that he was lying, but he had also just mentally described her as a creature. "Any other questions?" She asked impatiently.
His mind swam. "Uh . . . Rudolph?"
"Not anymore. Let's continue." She flipped a page on a notebook in front of her. "I told you about the piece of magic that Mr. Claus leaves behind, and that it's to bring about good feelings. Do you know anybody that doesn't get a little happier when Christmas rolls around? You might call them a Grinch or a Scrooge?"
"Yeah," Leo said. "I do know a few people like that."
"It's your job to keep that from happening. When Santa's magic doesn't take, it can lead to some bad results. Parents fighting, kids crying, bad memories. Santa doesn't bring presents; he keeps Christmas a happy time or else. You know the fact that Christmas is the most popular time for suicide?"
"Yeah, I heard that."
"It's not true, because of us. It might be, but you, me, and the Jolly old elf himself keep it from happening."
"So is Santa immortal?" Leo cut in.
"Elves live a lot longer than humans, but not forever. Santa is a title. The current Santa is the fifth since we started. Elves are weaned for promotion in the meantime."
"How do I make sure Santa's magic works?"
"The items included in your kit. The big one is a sensing unit, put simply." She went on as Leo pulled out a long wand, almost like an extended lightsaber. "It glows green in a properly-magicked area, and red in an improperly-magicked one. It's your job to go around and make sure everything's in place after Santa passes by."
"But there are over forty thousand people in this town!" Leo said. "How am I and two other people supposed to do the entire place?"
"You know how, when you were a kid, the night before Christmas seemed to go on forever?"
Leo sat back. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. Time stretch." Timpani looked at something off-screen. "I've gotta go. You'll be able to contact the other agents in your area using the comm unit we're on. Take your time to go through the items included in your kit, make sure you know how to handle all of them and what they're for. We leave local agents to figure out who's going to cover where, otherwise we tend to make topological mistakes that spread them too thin."
"Wait! How do you know I accept?!" Leo asked, somewhat flustered.
The elf leaned in to the camera. "Leo, your girlfriend is visiting her family, you're taking the next two weeks off from work, and you aren't traveling anywhere. You were planning on watching TV and drinking beer this whole time . . . why not do something that really matters instead of just taking up space? Besides, we already know you're going to say yes, that's the only reason we sent you a package."
"But why can't you-" Leo began as the video cut out, leaving a gray space. He was upset about the insinuation he wouldn't have done anything with a large swath of empty time. He wanted to learn a new song on the guitar, and read, and catch up on his sleep.
In the back of his mind, the part adjusted by Santa's magic to love the season, was wagging its finger and shaking its head. It knew he wouldn't take the time to improve himself, or others, but he would, in fact, sit alone, consuming junk food and producing nothing in turn. This little part forced him to reach out and pick up the next item in the kit. It looked like a lighter. He carefully replaced it. He could use the extra money . . . and he'd have one heck of a story.
He slept on it, and woke up with snow pushing against his window. He took another look at the kit.
There was the aforementioned magic sensor, the comm unit and a control, what looked like packages of dehydrated holly and mistletoe, the lighter-esque item, four small silver orbs, packed tightly -- they looked like ornaments but were much heavier -- and an item Leo couldn't understand.
It was like a plank, able to extend extend seven feet long, quite light, and silver like the ornament items. He found, at the bottom of the case, a book of about thirty pages explaining the items in detail. He read it carefully, and when he got to the long plank item, his eyebrows rose. He didn't know if he'd have to use it -- but found himself hoping he both would, and would not.
He picked up the comm unit and fit it over his ear, adjusting it so the screen could be seen. He used the control to try and contact the two other agents in the area.
For a few minutes he sat staring at the gray screen, waiting for anybody to answer, again hoping they wouldn't and would at the same time.
One of them answered. He had expected someone his age, and so was surprised to find a wrinkled Latino with a balding head squinting at the screen. "Hello?" The man said. "This is Martin. Who is this?"
The halves of Leo's mind fought, and the polite half won. "Uh, hi. My name's . . . Larry."
"Hello, Larry. Are you new this year?" Martin asked. He was inspecting the pieces of his kit, looking them over and laying them aside. "It's my second year."
"I just started," Leo replied.
"Trying to figure out which way is up, yeah? Here, let me add Ingrid in to the call. She's been a local agent for ten years. She can explain everything." Martin fiddled with his control. "She might be busy, but perhaps . . . Ah."
Another screen appeared alongside Martin, carrying a blonde woman looking a little older than Leo. She focused on him. "What's this? Paula couldn't take it another year? What's your name?"
"Larry," Leo said. "You've been doing this for a while?"
"That's right. Paula'd been doing it even longer than me, almost thirty years, but I guess she was getting too old. I knew she was thinking about quitting last year, but I didn't really think she'd do it." Ingrid inspected Leo; he leaned back, trying to get away from the gaze. "And you're her replacement. She's been the reason for happiness around here. I hope you're up to the task."
"Aw, give him a break, Ingrid," Martin cut in. "Ingrid started doing this when she was sixteen. She was pegged right away by USE as a long-timer, someone who'll be doing this over and over and be good at it."
"First lesson, new kid: read the booklet from back to front and front to back. Know everything." Ingrid waved her copy in the camera's face. "It'll keep things from going sour on Christmas eve."
"I've already read it," Leo said. "Have you ever used the plank?"
"No," Ingrid said. "I don't want to. That either means I've royally screwed it, or it's something that none of us can fix." She leaned in to the camera. Leo picked out deep creases in her face where she frowned. "I don't like either of those things happening, even on a normal day. When dealing with Christmas, I want to know I can figure it out. Figure anything out."
"Why don't you just tell him to get down and give you thirty?" Martin said, rolling his eyes. "She's crusty, Larry, but she gets the job done; that's what Timpani says at least. You've met Timpani?" Leo nodded. "Okay, good. Don't be afraid to contact her; she'll be able to set you straight." Martin looked at something off camera. "I need to go. I'll leave you with Ingrid . . . try not to blame me too much." The square blinked away, and Ingrid's came to fill the air in front of Leo.
"So. Larry," Ingrid began. She held one of the silvery ornaments in her hand, rotating her wrist, looking at the object from every angle. "I sure hope you can step in Paula's shoes. I don't take lightly to failure, and the fat man doesn't either." She put the ornament down. "I'm gonna contact you on the 23rd, at eight in the evening, and put you to the paint. I'm gonna ask you any question I can think of about the stuff in your kit, and you better get every question right, or I'm going to let Timpani know she made the wrong choice."
The impolite side of Leo finally pushed the polite half away. "Fine. Maybe by then you'll get the plank out of your ass." He cut the video off, feeling a flush of anger, embarrassment, and guilt. He looked at the booklet and opened it to the first page.
Christmas eve was, as it somehow always is, a snowy, quiet night. The quiz Ingrid had given him the night before was a snappy, snitty affair, and one Leo had passed with flying colors, much to Ingrid's anger. Then, after Martin had joined them, they had divided their area into three irregular sections, including houses, apartments, and hotels. Leo had all of his items loaded in a backpack and was bundled in dark clothes, even though Martin had said nobody would give him a second glance.
At six o'clock, he got to his first target, a neighborhood a few miles from his apartment. He regarded the sensing unit, and found it putting off an acceptable green glow. He went on to the next house, and the next, and more, walking and checking, and walking more. He walked for what felt like three hours, but found it was only seven o'clock. A few houses later he found the first mistake.
It wasn't too bad, just a slight irregularity. The sensing wand gave off a sickly dark green, and he knew a quick holly-and-mistletoe would fix it up. He took out a capsule of each and, stepping into the snow-covered yard, dropped them onto the ground. He packed snow around them and watched as it melted, revealing fully-grown sprigs of holly with red berries and mistletoe with white. He stood near the house, under the guise of admiring the tasteless decorations, and gently pushed the two pieces of Christmas toward the house. The floated, as if on a river, and went right through the curtained windows. Inside, he knew they would dissipate, augmenting the magic Santa Claus had left. He checked the sensing wand again and saw it had changed to the healthier green.
Leo moved on, checking each house one by one. He felt himself getting tired. Every once in a while, Ingrid would demand he check in with his progress, and without fail would tell him he wasn't moving fast enough. Martin was more cheerful, clearly enjoying the snow and cold air.
Minutes after signing off from a check-in, Leo checked the wand and found it blinking alarming red. The house in front of him had been missed, or improperly magicked. A few plants wouldn't fix this.
He took out one of the silver orbs, complete with hook, and went up to the house. It seemed empty, but he tried to be silent anyway. Right on the front door was a wreath; he thought it could use a little something. He took off a glove and grasped the ornament's top in his fingers, twisting it a tiny bit. It hummed and vibrated for a moment, and he hung it on the wreath. Retreating, he pulled out the sensor again, and saw the red had dimmed. He sat around for a few minutes, waiting on a nearby bench as if looking for a bus, checking the sensor periodically. It eventually came to rest at a muted green, and he added a bit of holly.
With the house putting off a happy green color through his wand, he moved on. As he worked, Ingrid contacted him and Martin.
"New kid, how many fixes have you had to make?"
"Two. I just finished with an ornament and I had to add plants to a house."
Ingrid, walking down a sidewalk, nodded. "Martin?"
"I've had to use ornaments twice, and done the red and white on a dozen houses now. That's already more than all of last year."
"I've been getting a lot more problems too," Ingrid said. "I've already used three of my ornaments. I've never had to call for more and I don't want to do it this year either. I might borrow from you, new kid, if you don't use all of yours."
"Can you wait that long?"
"I'll be able to remember where I need to use it," Ingrid snapped back.
"Just ask the elves for more," Leo responded.
"I won't do that if I don't have to," she said, and ended the call. Leo immediately called Martin as he checked the next house and was pleased to find its color acceptable.
"Has she always been like that?" He asked the man.
"Like what?"
"Terrible."
"She's driven. She wants to do well. You know she's getting her phd? I can't say I know much about her private life, but last year Paula told me that she's only gotten A's in school. She just wants to do well." Martin tsked. He hit a house with holly and mistletoe and kept walked. "That's seven. I hope the old man isn't losing his touch. A new Santa's first year is always pretty rough, but the current Claus has been going for almost half a century now. How far are you?"
Leo brought up the map stored on his headset. "About ten percent," he said. "I'm feeling pretty bushed, too."
"Well, don't let Ingrid hear you say that," Martin said. "She might never stop chewing you out. Take a break, get a drink, then head back out there. Thanks to Santa, we have plenty of time to cover all that ground."
"Yeah, all right. later," Leo said, and ended the call. He looked up at the row of houses in front of him, rubbed his neck, and started walking.
A few hours later -- by his phone, not by his internal clock -- he had a chance to use the small lighter. He'd reached an apartment building with several stories, and found his wand was blaring red. He'd had to use ornaments twice more, and had used the plants nearly eight times each. Martin and Ingrid were similarly being drained of resources, but so far were making progress.
He stepped into the empty lobby of the building to get away from the cold, and took out the small lighter-like device. He double-checked his wand and then put it away. He flicked the lighter, and a small green light, somewhat like a flame but giving off no smoke and without a flickering motion, snapped to life. It pointed up the stairs and led him to an apartment on the second floor, where it pointed resolutely.
Leo hit a small button on the bottom of the lighter, and the light flowing from it began to crackle, as if hitting pockets of gas. He checked up and down the hallway, then held the lighter closer. The light began to pop and spark, eating up the natural material that counter-acted Santa's magic. In a few moments, the lighter stopped dancing, and began floating lazily like a true flame would. He snapped it off and pocketed it. Hanging one of the ornaments on a wreath near the front entrance and using two each of holly and mistletoe, he checked his wand again and saw it had changed to an acceptable green.
He had no ornaments left, but he could contact the North Pole for more, but it would be a wait. He decided to contact Timpani while moving on to the next area.
"I'm out of ornaments," he told the elf, who looked like she was pulling her third all-nighter in a row. "And running low on the red and whites, too."
"You aren't the only one," Timpani said, snapping her fingers and flagging down a runner. "People all over have been running out."
"Martin wondered if the current Santa isn't working out."
"I doubt it! Just last year he had knock-out numbers! Get more ornaments and pills to 9F-477-c," she said over her shoulder to the runner. He said something Leo didn't catch. "We can't be, we had enough to last us through the end of the decade." He said something else, and she turned back to Leo. "You might have to go without for a few hours, we're running low on extras. But-" She stopped, jerking her head up and tilting it. "Maybe . . . Hold on."
Leo saw her get up from her desk and walk away, briefly catching a glimpse of her small form as she went up the hallway alongside her desk in what appeared to be a hectic office environment.
In a few moments she came back, red-faced. "Sit tight, new kid. Keep going on your route; somebody will be along soon to get you your items. You see anything strange out there?"
"The strangest thing going on out here is me, Timpani," he said. "I keep expecting people to call the cops on me."
"Just go with it. I have something to attend to," she said, stepped off her chair. "Good work so far; keep it up." She ended the call.
Leo didn't know what had gotten things so worked up, but he wasn't at all happy Ingrid's nickname for him had spread to the elf handler. He kept working, running lower on holly and mistletoe, but thankfully didn't require an ornament. He got to an apartment needing a boost, and realized he had only two of the dried capsules each. He used one of each, and found to his dismay the sensor's color barely changed. He stood with his final two capsules and bounced them gently in his palm. The sensor's color was dull green, just under his self-imposed threshold. He started packing them in snow near the apartment building, and contacted Ingrid and Martin.
"I'm all out," he told them. "I don't have anything left to use and I'm only half-way through." He watched the holly and mistletoe drift toward the building and found it was enough to pump up its magic levels.
"So ask for more," Ingrid said. "I proved you knew what to do last night."
"I already did. I asked an hour ago and Timpani said everyone's been running out quicker than normal."
"I'm also running low. I just have the one ornament left," Martin added. "None of the plants. Ingrid?"
"I'm out too," the woman said, after hesitating. "Guess there's not much choice. I'm gonna put a request through to Timpani and get us more. I've never had a night like this. I don't even remember Paula telling me about anything like this. Be back in a sec."
Martin and Leo waited in silence. The next few buildings were bright green; the color was becoming rarer as the night went on. Ingrid returned.
"Something's happened," she told the two of them. "Timpani said their stocks have nearly run out all over the world, but she's gonna try to get basics for us. How are your lighter levels?"
"Fine," Leo said after Martin had responded. "I've only had to use it once."
"Only once?" Ingrid said. Leo didn't understand her surprise. She looked thoughtful on the screen. "Then why are we using our ornaments and plants so often? I've only had to use it twice. The lighters counter-act particles that keep Santa's magic from working properly and it would make sense to use it a lot if we're down on supplies, but we aren't using it a lot."
"That's means it's Santa making mistakes, right?" Leo asked.
Ingrid spiked her camera, shooting him a look he was becoming used to. "Santa doesn't make mistakes, new kid. His magic isn't a conscious thought, it's more like an aura. He has to maintain it, but it's never been like this. It follows a pattern of ups and downs, not random spikes."
Leo waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he said: "So?"
"So, something else is happening. I don't know what."
"What about the Grinch?" Leo asked, jokingly. "Is he up to his Grinchy ways again?"
"Alright new kid, you just started, so I'm going to go easy on you for that," Ingrid said angrily. "You just can't take this seriously, can you? You don't think this is important, but it is. A lot of people depend on us doing our jobs correctly so that they don't have to deal with unhappy kids or strained relationships, so that kids can get up at six in the morning and gaze with barely-contained fury at all the presents under the tree, and so that parents can get up and make coffee and tell them about how they caught a glimpse of Santa when they were kids, which we now know could have very well happened. So please. Don't joke around. About a Dr. Seuss character."
It was only after finishing her speech she realized Leo wasn't listening, instead staring off to the side and over the screen. He was looking up at the top of a hotel, having finally moved into a heavier area of town. "I'm at the Hills Hotel," he said, confident both Ingrid and Martin would be aware of what it was. "And either my sensor isn't working or something's gone badly wrong. I'm pointing it right at the thing and I'm not getting anything."
Martin frowned. "Nothing? Check closely. In bad lighting areas it can be hard to tell."
"Were are you?" Ingrid asked. "The south side of Highway M?"
"Yeah. I just finished with the big group of houses to the south."
"Martin, where are you?" Ingrid asked.
"A few miles east. I don't think I'll be able to help."
"Help?" Leo said. "What do you mean help?"
"Santa wouldn't miss such a big target like that, even if he is having trouble. There are a lot of families that are staying there, and they need a shot of joy more than most other people. You know what it's like traveling." Ingrid paused. "Something's gone wrong with the magic, and I don't think it's Santa. Let me meet you at the Hills and we can figure out what to do then. Hopefully Timpani will come through and get us some supplies before we meet up."
"Got it," Leo said, thumping his sensor against his leg, trying to eke any kind of report out of it he could.
For the next thirty minutes Leo watched the Christmas Eve sky, looking for an elf coming to help, or even the bare outline of a sleigh on its way to the next house. He figured Santa was in Germany or New Zealand by now, and then sat dumb for a few moments, getting himself to recognize the thought he'd just had.
Eventually a tall woman with Ingrid's face walked up to him. Like him she wore a backpack, but it was substantially bigger and had a straw leading to the vicinity of her neck. She nodded to him.
"My sensor isn't getting anything either," she said, dispensing with a greeting. "You're right about this place. Gotten anything from Timpani yet?"
"Nothing. She seemed swamped. Do you have any idea what's going on?"
She shook her head. "No idea. I've never seen it this bad. Though . . ." She paused, thinking, with one mitten rubbing her chin. "Wait a minute." She hit a few buttons on her comm remote. "She'll still be up. I know it."
Leo saw a sliver of face appear in front of Ingrid. "Paula, Ingrid. We have a situation."
"Why? What's happening?" The face asked. It sounded familiar to Leo. He stepped closer, trying to get a look. He found a small nose, big eyes, and black hair streaked with gray.
"Aunt Paula?!"
"Why it's Leo!" His father's sister exclaimed, laughing. "They got you to replace me, did they? Ingrid, this is Leo, my nephew."
"Leo?" Ingrid looked at him. "You said your name is Larry!"
"Leo's a nickname," he told her. "Larry's my given name."
"Well that's very nice, but we have more pressing matters at hand," Ingrid said. "NP is beside itself right now, Paula. We haven't been able to reach Timpani in a while, we've all run out of supplies, and then 'Leo' here got to Hills Hotel and his sensor didn't tell him anything at all."
"Nothing?" Paula asked, taken aback.
"Has this sort of thing ever happened to you?" Ingrid asked.
Paula sat thoughtfully on the other side of the screen. Her eyes flicked from one corner to the other. "You know, I might have. It didn't happen to me -- I just heard about it -- but it does sound familiar. The Krampus."
Ingrid and Leo looked at each other. "What?"
"An Anti-Santa, so to speak. Tries to counteract Santa's good magic. He . . . consumes it." Paula stared past the camera. "I think you know what you should do."
"No," Ingrid said quickly.
"There's no shame in it. This isn't something that you're equipped to deal with."
"What?" Leo asked.
Ingrid sighed. "The plank," she said. "I suppose you're right. Ten years I went without having to use that thing."
"Why don't you ever want to use it?" Leo asked. "I gotta admit, I'm kinda excited!"
She turned on him with clenched fists and a snarl. "Because I don't need help! I don't make mistakes! You want to do it so badly, then you do it!" She abruptly cut the connection to Leo's Aunt and stepped away, arms folded over her heavy coat. Just as quickly, Aunt Paula's face appeared in front of Leo's.
"She's always been like that," she said. "Believes everything should be perfect." Paula shook her head. "It's the right thought for what we do, at least, but not healthy. Everything can go wrong sometimes."
"Even Christmas," Leo muttered as he reached into his backpack and found the plank.
"Yes, even Christmas." Paula nodded. "Go on, do it. You'll need to get up high, though. You might be able to get to the top of the hotel. There has to be a lot of space, too. Be sure to remember your number. You're 9F-477-c, just like me."
"The roof?" Leo said, stretching his head up to gaze at the top of the building. "How am I supposed to do that."
"The fire escape, of course," Paula said. "I'd better go. Try to get Ingrid to come with you. She'll be upset she didn't otherwise, and she'll take it out on you."
"Okay. Thanks." Leo ended the connection, looked at the plank in his hands, and then up at Ingrid, who still stood a distance away. "Are you really sure you want to miss this?"
"I don't care! Just go do it on your own!"
"Listen," Leo said, grinning slightly. "I'm going up the fire escape. It's going to be slippery. If I go up there on my own, it'll be dangerous. I need you to help me." That should do it.
Ingrid stood still with her arms crossed. Leo shrugged and headed for the back of the large, round building. Without looking behind him, he heard Ingrid walking in his footsteps through the snow.
They reached the fire-escape ladder and shook it down. Leo went up first, slowly climbing the stories to the roof. Ingrid went after him, trying to make little noise. After ten minutes they got to the last level and climbed up the final hand-ladder to the flat, circular roof. "This is enough space, right?" Leo asked. Ingrid said it was. "Here we go, then," Leo said, heart beating with the exertion and apprehension. He took the end of his plank in his hands and pulled, extending it until it was at its full seven feet length.
Standing it on its end, he hit a switch on the side. A blue-white light at the top started to blink in the quiet night. Leo glanced at Ingrid out the corner of his eye and tapped a few buttons on his remote.
There was a short period of static, and then a deep voice answered. "Rudolph One; this had better be a real emergency."
"Yes sir. This is 9F-477-c. We've encountered an area where our sensors are finding nothing."
"So the new kid gets to contact the big man his very first year, huh?" The deep voice said. "I need more details."
"We've run out of ornaments and capsules," Leo said. His mind worked hard to keep him from recognizing the absurdity of what was going on. "I'm on the roof of a popular area hotel, and our sensors aren't getting anything."
After a short moment of silence, the other end said: "I never miss hotels. Give me a minute, Leo, and I'll get back to you. Keep the plank up." The call cut out.
"What'd he say?" Ingrid asked, overtaken by her curiosity.
"He said to give him a minute. He knew my nickname."
"Well, he's Santa, isn't he? I'm not surprised."
"Leo, are you there?" Saint Nicholas said over the comm. "I'm coming in, be there in two minutes. You're on the roof?"
"Yes sir."
"Make sure you stand off to the side." The connection cut.
Leo looked at Ingrid. "He's coming here. He also says we should stand back. From what?"
Ingrid was already huddled near the edge of the roof. "Don't argue, just get over here!"
"What? What?" Leo ran to where she crouched. "What's going to happen?"
"Okay you know that Christmas poem? 'On Dasher, on Dancer, et cetera?"
"Yeah . . ."
"He used to do that, but it isn't exactly the same anymore. Reindeer don't react to magic as well as what he's using now."
"What is he using now?" Leo asked, just as a keening began to split the quiet air. He looked west and saw a small shape closing in, blasting clouds out of the way and moving so fast it looked as if it was vibrating. Thirty seconds later Leo identified it as a big red sleigh with two red-hot rocket engines on either side. As it got closer, it seemed to slow, more and more, until eventually the sleigh landed with perfect precision, at a dead stop, in the very center of the roof.
Leo and Ingrid approached, feeling heat dissipate from the engines and cold from the kicked-up snow. Eventually it settled, revealing Santa Claus sitting in the sleigh, decked out in red furs, but with some additions the poem hadn't accounted for. He jumped out.
"Leo. Ingrid," he said, lifting goggles away from his eyes. He had white padded gloves, a red skullcap with a fat white tassel on top, red jacket, and black pants. Instead of traditional black boots he wore engineer boots. "Let's see what we have here." He took out a sensor of his own, bigger and clearly more powerful. just like theirs, no color appeared. He smacked it. "Well well." Under his curly white beard, he smiled. "Got you at last."
He looked at both of them. "He's not getting away this time." He reached into his sleigh and came back with a strange gun. He powered it up. "Stand back kids, Santa's got to kick some ass."
"Well, I have to admit," Leo said. "That's not something I expected to hear tonight." Santa had grabbed hold of the fire escape and dropped out of sight ten minutes ago. "What do you think it is?"
"I can't tell you. In ten years of doing this I have no idea what's going on." She looked unhappy at the prospect.
"Think he'll be okay?" Leo asked.
"He's Santa Claus. He'll be fine." They heard a rumble under them.
She was proved correct. After about twenty minutes, Santa hauled himself up to them, dragging a furry, horned beast, with legs like a goat and upper body like a man. "I got 'im. I finally got 'im!" Santa said, shouldering his rifle.
Leo stood pointing at the beast, lips pursed, as if trying to say the words what is that but was unable to start.
"'S the Krampus, boys and girls." Santa kicked it. "Malevolent beast that tries to counter-act my magic and spread bad feelings on Christmas. Well, he's spread his last."
The Krampus snarled something, and Santa gave it another brutal kick in the stomach. "Get in the sleigh, you beast!" He looked up. "Shouldn't have much more trouble around here anymore."
"Are there more than one of those things?" Leo asked. Santa nodded.
"Enough to give us problems all over the world. But this one's heading back to the North Pole to 'make presents' for all the good girls and boys." Santa grabbed one of the Krampus' horns and dragged it toward the sleigh. "I'm transferring this to a few handlers in a bit. They should be along to load you two up, too." He nodded to both of them. "Thanks for the help." He jumped into the sleigh and began to power up the engines.
He looked over his shoulder at them and saw Leo looking confused. "I may not be what you were expecting, Leo, but I'm still Santa, and this is still Christmas." He snapped reigns, which didn't seem to be connected to anything. "So don't worry, I'll still say it."
The engines roared and he took off, bellowing "MEEEEEERRY CHRISTMAS!" In a deep, booming voice. His sleigh disappeared.
They sat on the edge of the building, watching the sky. Neither of them spoke. Leo was trying to get it all lodged in his head properly.
"So, you met him. Are you happy now?" Ingrid said at last. "I knew it wouldn't be what you were expecting, but there you go. You just met Santa Claus."
"Yeah." Leo thought for a moment. "Is that why you didn't want to meet him? Because you knew it would be different than how you pictured it?"
"Sort of," Ingrid said. "There were a lot of reasons." They sat for a little longer.
"So it was different," Leo said. "But it was still okay, wasn't it?"
Ingrid snorted. "Yeah, I suppose it was."
"Well, that's what's important, right?" Leo looked around him, at the city layered with magic. "Things change all the time. People. Cities, even. We can't stop that, and I suppose what's important is to make sure that we can still enjoy it. We may have had Christmases that were from twenty years ago, and we'd get Legos or barbies, or whatever, but now kids will get an iPod or something like that."
"And if we've done our job, then they'll still look back with happy thoughts."
"Then let's make sure we do our job," Leo said, catching sight of a small sleigh, guided by an elf, speeding toward them.
He inspected it as he walked back to his apartment from the mailboxes. From all angles it was a simple letter. Closing his door behind him, he ripped it open, and pulled out the contents.
Instead of a picture of a snow-wrapped field or, perhaps, a cheery manger, the card was blank white, with a silver trim and the letters U-S-E. He opened it. The inside was almost as blank, but there was a box of small text, handwritten incredibly small; Leo had to squint to read it.
"Dear Mr. Larry 'Leo' Anderson," it read. "You have been selected as a local representative of USE, Unlimited Santa Enterprises, for the purposes of ensuring the smooth transition of the Holiday state. You will be tendered a fee of one hundred US dollars daily, until the day of the 26th of December, a total amount of one thousand, six hundred dollars. Given your pre-determined acceptance of this offer, a package will be delivered to you following your completion of this letter."
"Completion of the letter?" Leo asked himself. "The heck does that mean?"
There was a knock at the door, and Leo jumped. He went to it quietly, peering through the crack and seeing nobody. A brown package was on the mat in the building's hall. It bore the same three letters as the card. Leo went into the hall and looked down it, seeing nobody.
Feeling silly and stupid, Leo picked up the package, looking at all of its sides. It was heavy. He brought his ear close to detect any ticking.
Soon he was sitting on his couch with the heavy package on the coffee table. It certainly seemed okay. He picked up his pair of scissors and carefully opened the package's sides. Underneath there was what appeared to be a chest or trunk, small and sturdy. There was no lock or clasp, and it easily opened on silent hinges.
Inside were a number of items Leo didn't have a chance to examine. One of the items, as soon as he caught sight, started beeping and chirping like a cell phone. It was a small plastic rod, and he picked it up. He came to realize it was a headset, and he fit it over his ear. Just as he did so, a picture appeared in the air in front of him, containing a small person wearing red and green. It had pointed ears.
"Hello, Larry. Yes, I'm an elf. You may shut your mouth now. I have in the file that you prefer to be called 'Leo,' is that right?"
Leo, unable to say much, nodded. "Good. My name is Timpani, and I'm your contact."
Leo took the earpiece off and held it away from his head. The picture shifted in his vision, and he saw a squashed and stretched Timpani frown. "Leo, please put the comm unit back on. I need to know that you understand."
After it was back on his ear, she continued. "Thank you. Yes, I am an elf, this is the North Pole, and if you agree to help, you're working for Santa. Please close your mouth, it's unbecoming. Do you follow so far?" Leo nodded again. "Here's the deal. Yes, Santa is magic, but it doesn't exactly work perfectly; nothing does. We need people in heavily-populated areas to help with the planning and assist on Christmas eve. You follow? Good. You're one of three in the area. Bigger areas might need many more, and some don't need any." She sighed and closed her eyes. "What's your first question?"
Leo stuttered at the offer. "How is there something at the North Pole? I mean, there's ice and stuff, but everybody knows there's nothing there."
Timpani nodded. "One, most of our resources are under water. Two, Santa is magic enough to visit every child on Earth in the span of about a day; you don't think we can bribe a few explorers and satellite-handlers to tell everybody there's nothing here?"
"Okay . . . despite the evidence that seems to be in front of me, It seems pretty obvious that Santa isn't real. People buy presents for other people. Santa doesn't really drop down the chimney and leave gifts for everyone, right?"
"Well first, no, not everybody. Just children, those under the age of fourteen. Second, Santa doesn't really leave presents, he leaves something else. You remember Christmas as a kid?" Leo nodded. "Good memories?"
"Of course."
"That's what we do. Santa drops down the chimney -- a challenging quantum feat in itself, don't try to think about it too hard -- and imbues the area with a barely-noticeable piece of magic. Then, a few hours later, kids come down the stairs, our up from the basement, or whatever, and see a magical sight of happiness that they carry with them for the rest of their lives. Christmas, December, becomes a happy time for them just because they remember. That's what Santa delivers, not presents."
"But . . . Santa always has his bag of presents. It's ubiquitous."
"You want to try explaining everything I just told you to some kid? Listen, Santa's in a house, doing his Santa thing, and little Sally and Timmy get up because they need a glass of water, and it's Christmas, and they can't sleep. They see jolly St. Nick kneeling by their tree. You think he doesn't know they're watching?"
"Maybe?" Leo said, feeling left in the dust.
"He knows. He knows who's been naughty and nice, for Pete’s sake, he knows when he's being spied on. So, he turns around, puts a final present down on the pile, throws them a wink, and holds a finger to his lips. All that's left in his wake is an empty glass of milk, drained by dad after the kids went to bed, and an extra present that, what do you know, they can't seem to agree the next morning, which one it was."
Leo blinked, and blinked again.
"Follow so far?"
He nodded, partially-aware the creature on the other end of the video was aware not only that he was lying, but he had also just mentally described her as a creature. "Any other questions?" She asked impatiently.
His mind swam. "Uh . . . Rudolph?"
"Not anymore. Let's continue." She flipped a page on a notebook in front of her. "I told you about the piece of magic that Mr. Claus leaves behind, and that it's to bring about good feelings. Do you know anybody that doesn't get a little happier when Christmas rolls around? You might call them a Grinch or a Scrooge?"
"Yeah," Leo said. "I do know a few people like that."
"It's your job to keep that from happening. When Santa's magic doesn't take, it can lead to some bad results. Parents fighting, kids crying, bad memories. Santa doesn't bring presents; he keeps Christmas a happy time or else. You know the fact that Christmas is the most popular time for suicide?"
"Yeah, I heard that."
"It's not true, because of us. It might be, but you, me, and the Jolly old elf himself keep it from happening."
"So is Santa immortal?" Leo cut in.
"Elves live a lot longer than humans, but not forever. Santa is a title. The current Santa is the fifth since we started. Elves are weaned for promotion in the meantime."
"How do I make sure Santa's magic works?"
"The items included in your kit. The big one is a sensing unit, put simply." She went on as Leo pulled out a long wand, almost like an extended lightsaber. "It glows green in a properly-magicked area, and red in an improperly-magicked one. It's your job to go around and make sure everything's in place after Santa passes by."
"But there are over forty thousand people in this town!" Leo said. "How am I and two other people supposed to do the entire place?"
"You know how, when you were a kid, the night before Christmas seemed to go on forever?"
Leo sat back. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. Time stretch." Timpani looked at something off-screen. "I've gotta go. You'll be able to contact the other agents in your area using the comm unit we're on. Take your time to go through the items included in your kit, make sure you know how to handle all of them and what they're for. We leave local agents to figure out who's going to cover where, otherwise we tend to make topological mistakes that spread them too thin."
"Wait! How do you know I accept?!" Leo asked, somewhat flustered.
The elf leaned in to the camera. "Leo, your girlfriend is visiting her family, you're taking the next two weeks off from work, and you aren't traveling anywhere. You were planning on watching TV and drinking beer this whole time . . . why not do something that really matters instead of just taking up space? Besides, we already know you're going to say yes, that's the only reason we sent you a package."
"But why can't you-" Leo began as the video cut out, leaving a gray space. He was upset about the insinuation he wouldn't have done anything with a large swath of empty time. He wanted to learn a new song on the guitar, and read, and catch up on his sleep.
In the back of his mind, the part adjusted by Santa's magic to love the season, was wagging its finger and shaking its head. It knew he wouldn't take the time to improve himself, or others, but he would, in fact, sit alone, consuming junk food and producing nothing in turn. This little part forced him to reach out and pick up the next item in the kit. It looked like a lighter. He carefully replaced it. He could use the extra money . . . and he'd have one heck of a story.
He slept on it, and woke up with snow pushing against his window. He took another look at the kit.
There was the aforementioned magic sensor, the comm unit and a control, what looked like packages of dehydrated holly and mistletoe, the lighter-esque item, four small silver orbs, packed tightly -- they looked like ornaments but were much heavier -- and an item Leo couldn't understand.
It was like a plank, able to extend extend seven feet long, quite light, and silver like the ornament items. He found, at the bottom of the case, a book of about thirty pages explaining the items in detail. He read it carefully, and when he got to the long plank item, his eyebrows rose. He didn't know if he'd have to use it -- but found himself hoping he both would, and would not.
He picked up the comm unit and fit it over his ear, adjusting it so the screen could be seen. He used the control to try and contact the two other agents in the area.
For a few minutes he sat staring at the gray screen, waiting for anybody to answer, again hoping they wouldn't and would at the same time.
One of them answered. He had expected someone his age, and so was surprised to find a wrinkled Latino with a balding head squinting at the screen. "Hello?" The man said. "This is Martin. Who is this?"
The halves of Leo's mind fought, and the polite half won. "Uh, hi. My name's . . . Larry."
"Hello, Larry. Are you new this year?" Martin asked. He was inspecting the pieces of his kit, looking them over and laying them aside. "It's my second year."
"I just started," Leo replied.
"Trying to figure out which way is up, yeah? Here, let me add Ingrid in to the call. She's been a local agent for ten years. She can explain everything." Martin fiddled with his control. "She might be busy, but perhaps . . . Ah."
Another screen appeared alongside Martin, carrying a blonde woman looking a little older than Leo. She focused on him. "What's this? Paula couldn't take it another year? What's your name?"
"Larry," Leo said. "You've been doing this for a while?"
"That's right. Paula'd been doing it even longer than me, almost thirty years, but I guess she was getting too old. I knew she was thinking about quitting last year, but I didn't really think she'd do it." Ingrid inspected Leo; he leaned back, trying to get away from the gaze. "And you're her replacement. She's been the reason for happiness around here. I hope you're up to the task."
"Aw, give him a break, Ingrid," Martin cut in. "Ingrid started doing this when she was sixteen. She was pegged right away by USE as a long-timer, someone who'll be doing this over and over and be good at it."
"First lesson, new kid: read the booklet from back to front and front to back. Know everything." Ingrid waved her copy in the camera's face. "It'll keep things from going sour on Christmas eve."
"I've already read it," Leo said. "Have you ever used the plank?"
"No," Ingrid said. "I don't want to. That either means I've royally screwed it, or it's something that none of us can fix." She leaned in to the camera. Leo picked out deep creases in her face where she frowned. "I don't like either of those things happening, even on a normal day. When dealing with Christmas, I want to know I can figure it out. Figure anything out."
"Why don't you just tell him to get down and give you thirty?" Martin said, rolling his eyes. "She's crusty, Larry, but she gets the job done; that's what Timpani says at least. You've met Timpani?" Leo nodded. "Okay, good. Don't be afraid to contact her; she'll be able to set you straight." Martin looked at something off camera. "I need to go. I'll leave you with Ingrid . . . try not to blame me too much." The square blinked away, and Ingrid's came to fill the air in front of Leo.
"So. Larry," Ingrid began. She held one of the silvery ornaments in her hand, rotating her wrist, looking at the object from every angle. "I sure hope you can step in Paula's shoes. I don't take lightly to failure, and the fat man doesn't either." She put the ornament down. "I'm gonna contact you on the 23rd, at eight in the evening, and put you to the paint. I'm gonna ask you any question I can think of about the stuff in your kit, and you better get every question right, or I'm going to let Timpani know she made the wrong choice."
The impolite side of Leo finally pushed the polite half away. "Fine. Maybe by then you'll get the plank out of your ass." He cut the video off, feeling a flush of anger, embarrassment, and guilt. He looked at the booklet and opened it to the first page.
Christmas eve was, as it somehow always is, a snowy, quiet night. The quiz Ingrid had given him the night before was a snappy, snitty affair, and one Leo had passed with flying colors, much to Ingrid's anger. Then, after Martin had joined them, they had divided their area into three irregular sections, including houses, apartments, and hotels. Leo had all of his items loaded in a backpack and was bundled in dark clothes, even though Martin had said nobody would give him a second glance.
At six o'clock, he got to his first target, a neighborhood a few miles from his apartment. He regarded the sensing unit, and found it putting off an acceptable green glow. He went on to the next house, and the next, and more, walking and checking, and walking more. He walked for what felt like three hours, but found it was only seven o'clock. A few houses later he found the first mistake.
It wasn't too bad, just a slight irregularity. The sensing wand gave off a sickly dark green, and he knew a quick holly-and-mistletoe would fix it up. He took out a capsule of each and, stepping into the snow-covered yard, dropped them onto the ground. He packed snow around them and watched as it melted, revealing fully-grown sprigs of holly with red berries and mistletoe with white. He stood near the house, under the guise of admiring the tasteless decorations, and gently pushed the two pieces of Christmas toward the house. The floated, as if on a river, and went right through the curtained windows. Inside, he knew they would dissipate, augmenting the magic Santa Claus had left. He checked the sensing wand again and saw it had changed to the healthier green.
Leo moved on, checking each house one by one. He felt himself getting tired. Every once in a while, Ingrid would demand he check in with his progress, and without fail would tell him he wasn't moving fast enough. Martin was more cheerful, clearly enjoying the snow and cold air.
Minutes after signing off from a check-in, Leo checked the wand and found it blinking alarming red. The house in front of him had been missed, or improperly magicked. A few plants wouldn't fix this.
He took out one of the silver orbs, complete with hook, and went up to the house. It seemed empty, but he tried to be silent anyway. Right on the front door was a wreath; he thought it could use a little something. He took off a glove and grasped the ornament's top in his fingers, twisting it a tiny bit. It hummed and vibrated for a moment, and he hung it on the wreath. Retreating, he pulled out the sensor again, and saw the red had dimmed. He sat around for a few minutes, waiting on a nearby bench as if looking for a bus, checking the sensor periodically. It eventually came to rest at a muted green, and he added a bit of holly.
With the house putting off a happy green color through his wand, he moved on. As he worked, Ingrid contacted him and Martin.
"New kid, how many fixes have you had to make?"
"Two. I just finished with an ornament and I had to add plants to a house."
Ingrid, walking down a sidewalk, nodded. "Martin?"
"I've had to use ornaments twice, and done the red and white on a dozen houses now. That's already more than all of last year."
"I've been getting a lot more problems too," Ingrid said. "I've already used three of my ornaments. I've never had to call for more and I don't want to do it this year either. I might borrow from you, new kid, if you don't use all of yours."
"Can you wait that long?"
"I'll be able to remember where I need to use it," Ingrid snapped back.
"Just ask the elves for more," Leo responded.
"I won't do that if I don't have to," she said, and ended the call. Leo immediately called Martin as he checked the next house and was pleased to find its color acceptable.
"Has she always been like that?" He asked the man.
"Like what?"
"Terrible."
"She's driven. She wants to do well. You know she's getting her phd? I can't say I know much about her private life, but last year Paula told me that she's only gotten A's in school. She just wants to do well." Martin tsked. He hit a house with holly and mistletoe and kept walked. "That's seven. I hope the old man isn't losing his touch. A new Santa's first year is always pretty rough, but the current Claus has been going for almost half a century now. How far are you?"
Leo brought up the map stored on his headset. "About ten percent," he said. "I'm feeling pretty bushed, too."
"Well, don't let Ingrid hear you say that," Martin said. "She might never stop chewing you out. Take a break, get a drink, then head back out there. Thanks to Santa, we have plenty of time to cover all that ground."
"Yeah, all right. later," Leo said, and ended the call. He looked up at the row of houses in front of him, rubbed his neck, and started walking.
A few hours later -- by his phone, not by his internal clock -- he had a chance to use the small lighter. He'd reached an apartment building with several stories, and found his wand was blaring red. He'd had to use ornaments twice more, and had used the plants nearly eight times each. Martin and Ingrid were similarly being drained of resources, but so far were making progress.
He stepped into the empty lobby of the building to get away from the cold, and took out the small lighter-like device. He double-checked his wand and then put it away. He flicked the lighter, and a small green light, somewhat like a flame but giving off no smoke and without a flickering motion, snapped to life. It pointed up the stairs and led him to an apartment on the second floor, where it pointed resolutely.
Leo hit a small button on the bottom of the lighter, and the light flowing from it began to crackle, as if hitting pockets of gas. He checked up and down the hallway, then held the lighter closer. The light began to pop and spark, eating up the natural material that counter-acted Santa's magic. In a few moments, the lighter stopped dancing, and began floating lazily like a true flame would. He snapped it off and pocketed it. Hanging one of the ornaments on a wreath near the front entrance and using two each of holly and mistletoe, he checked his wand again and saw it had changed to an acceptable green.
He had no ornaments left, but he could contact the North Pole for more, but it would be a wait. He decided to contact Timpani while moving on to the next area.
"I'm out of ornaments," he told the elf, who looked like she was pulling her third all-nighter in a row. "And running low on the red and whites, too."
"You aren't the only one," Timpani said, snapping her fingers and flagging down a runner. "People all over have been running out."
"Martin wondered if the current Santa isn't working out."
"I doubt it! Just last year he had knock-out numbers! Get more ornaments and pills to 9F-477-c," she said over her shoulder to the runner. He said something Leo didn't catch. "We can't be, we had enough to last us through the end of the decade." He said something else, and she turned back to Leo. "You might have to go without for a few hours, we're running low on extras. But-" She stopped, jerking her head up and tilting it. "Maybe . . . Hold on."
Leo saw her get up from her desk and walk away, briefly catching a glimpse of her small form as she went up the hallway alongside her desk in what appeared to be a hectic office environment.
In a few moments she came back, red-faced. "Sit tight, new kid. Keep going on your route; somebody will be along soon to get you your items. You see anything strange out there?"
"The strangest thing going on out here is me, Timpani," he said. "I keep expecting people to call the cops on me."
"Just go with it. I have something to attend to," she said, stepped off her chair. "Good work so far; keep it up." She ended the call.
Leo didn't know what had gotten things so worked up, but he wasn't at all happy Ingrid's nickname for him had spread to the elf handler. He kept working, running lower on holly and mistletoe, but thankfully didn't require an ornament. He got to an apartment needing a boost, and realized he had only two of the dried capsules each. He used one of each, and found to his dismay the sensor's color barely changed. He stood with his final two capsules and bounced them gently in his palm. The sensor's color was dull green, just under his self-imposed threshold. He started packing them in snow near the apartment building, and contacted Ingrid and Martin.
"I'm all out," he told them. "I don't have anything left to use and I'm only half-way through." He watched the holly and mistletoe drift toward the building and found it was enough to pump up its magic levels.
"So ask for more," Ingrid said. "I proved you knew what to do last night."
"I already did. I asked an hour ago and Timpani said everyone's been running out quicker than normal."
"I'm also running low. I just have the one ornament left," Martin added. "None of the plants. Ingrid?"
"I'm out too," the woman said, after hesitating. "Guess there's not much choice. I'm gonna put a request through to Timpani and get us more. I've never had a night like this. I don't even remember Paula telling me about anything like this. Be back in a sec."
Martin and Leo waited in silence. The next few buildings were bright green; the color was becoming rarer as the night went on. Ingrid returned.
"Something's happened," she told the two of them. "Timpani said their stocks have nearly run out all over the world, but she's gonna try to get basics for us. How are your lighter levels?"
"Fine," Leo said after Martin had responded. "I've only had to use it once."
"Only once?" Ingrid said. Leo didn't understand her surprise. She looked thoughtful on the screen. "Then why are we using our ornaments and plants so often? I've only had to use it twice. The lighters counter-act particles that keep Santa's magic from working properly and it would make sense to use it a lot if we're down on supplies, but we aren't using it a lot."
"That's means it's Santa making mistakes, right?" Leo asked.
Ingrid spiked her camera, shooting him a look he was becoming used to. "Santa doesn't make mistakes, new kid. His magic isn't a conscious thought, it's more like an aura. He has to maintain it, but it's never been like this. It follows a pattern of ups and downs, not random spikes."
Leo waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he said: "So?"
"So, something else is happening. I don't know what."
"What about the Grinch?" Leo asked, jokingly. "Is he up to his Grinchy ways again?"
"Alright new kid, you just started, so I'm going to go easy on you for that," Ingrid said angrily. "You just can't take this seriously, can you? You don't think this is important, but it is. A lot of people depend on us doing our jobs correctly so that they don't have to deal with unhappy kids or strained relationships, so that kids can get up at six in the morning and gaze with barely-contained fury at all the presents under the tree, and so that parents can get up and make coffee and tell them about how they caught a glimpse of Santa when they were kids, which we now know could have very well happened. So please. Don't joke around. About a Dr. Seuss character."
It was only after finishing her speech she realized Leo wasn't listening, instead staring off to the side and over the screen. He was looking up at the top of a hotel, having finally moved into a heavier area of town. "I'm at the Hills Hotel," he said, confident both Ingrid and Martin would be aware of what it was. "And either my sensor isn't working or something's gone badly wrong. I'm pointing it right at the thing and I'm not getting anything."
Martin frowned. "Nothing? Check closely. In bad lighting areas it can be hard to tell."
"Were are you?" Ingrid asked. "The south side of Highway M?"
"Yeah. I just finished with the big group of houses to the south."
"Martin, where are you?" Ingrid asked.
"A few miles east. I don't think I'll be able to help."
"Help?" Leo said. "What do you mean help?"
"Santa wouldn't miss such a big target like that, even if he is having trouble. There are a lot of families that are staying there, and they need a shot of joy more than most other people. You know what it's like traveling." Ingrid paused. "Something's gone wrong with the magic, and I don't think it's Santa. Let me meet you at the Hills and we can figure out what to do then. Hopefully Timpani will come through and get us some supplies before we meet up."
"Got it," Leo said, thumping his sensor against his leg, trying to eke any kind of report out of it he could.
For the next thirty minutes Leo watched the Christmas Eve sky, looking for an elf coming to help, or even the bare outline of a sleigh on its way to the next house. He figured Santa was in Germany or New Zealand by now, and then sat dumb for a few moments, getting himself to recognize the thought he'd just had.
Eventually a tall woman with Ingrid's face walked up to him. Like him she wore a backpack, but it was substantially bigger and had a straw leading to the vicinity of her neck. She nodded to him.
"My sensor isn't getting anything either," she said, dispensing with a greeting. "You're right about this place. Gotten anything from Timpani yet?"
"Nothing. She seemed swamped. Do you have any idea what's going on?"
She shook her head. "No idea. I've never seen it this bad. Though . . ." She paused, thinking, with one mitten rubbing her chin. "Wait a minute." She hit a few buttons on her comm remote. "She'll still be up. I know it."
Leo saw a sliver of face appear in front of Ingrid. "Paula, Ingrid. We have a situation."
"Why? What's happening?" The face asked. It sounded familiar to Leo. He stepped closer, trying to get a look. He found a small nose, big eyes, and black hair streaked with gray.
"Aunt Paula?!"
"Why it's Leo!" His father's sister exclaimed, laughing. "They got you to replace me, did they? Ingrid, this is Leo, my nephew."
"Leo?" Ingrid looked at him. "You said your name is Larry!"
"Leo's a nickname," he told her. "Larry's my given name."
"Well that's very nice, but we have more pressing matters at hand," Ingrid said. "NP is beside itself right now, Paula. We haven't been able to reach Timpani in a while, we've all run out of supplies, and then 'Leo' here got to Hills Hotel and his sensor didn't tell him anything at all."
"Nothing?" Paula asked, taken aback.
"Has this sort of thing ever happened to you?" Ingrid asked.
Paula sat thoughtfully on the other side of the screen. Her eyes flicked from one corner to the other. "You know, I might have. It didn't happen to me -- I just heard about it -- but it does sound familiar. The Krampus."
Ingrid and Leo looked at each other. "What?"
"An Anti-Santa, so to speak. Tries to counteract Santa's good magic. He . . . consumes it." Paula stared past the camera. "I think you know what you should do."
"No," Ingrid said quickly.
"There's no shame in it. This isn't something that you're equipped to deal with."
"What?" Leo asked.
Ingrid sighed. "The plank," she said. "I suppose you're right. Ten years I went without having to use that thing."
"Why don't you ever want to use it?" Leo asked. "I gotta admit, I'm kinda excited!"
She turned on him with clenched fists and a snarl. "Because I don't need help! I don't make mistakes! You want to do it so badly, then you do it!" She abruptly cut the connection to Leo's Aunt and stepped away, arms folded over her heavy coat. Just as quickly, Aunt Paula's face appeared in front of Leo's.
"She's always been like that," she said. "Believes everything should be perfect." Paula shook her head. "It's the right thought for what we do, at least, but not healthy. Everything can go wrong sometimes."
"Even Christmas," Leo muttered as he reached into his backpack and found the plank.
"Yes, even Christmas." Paula nodded. "Go on, do it. You'll need to get up high, though. You might be able to get to the top of the hotel. There has to be a lot of space, too. Be sure to remember your number. You're 9F-477-c, just like me."
"The roof?" Leo said, stretching his head up to gaze at the top of the building. "How am I supposed to do that."
"The fire escape, of course," Paula said. "I'd better go. Try to get Ingrid to come with you. She'll be upset she didn't otherwise, and she'll take it out on you."
"Okay. Thanks." Leo ended the connection, looked at the plank in his hands, and then up at Ingrid, who still stood a distance away. "Are you really sure you want to miss this?"
"I don't care! Just go do it on your own!"
"Listen," Leo said, grinning slightly. "I'm going up the fire escape. It's going to be slippery. If I go up there on my own, it'll be dangerous. I need you to help me." That should do it.
Ingrid stood still with her arms crossed. Leo shrugged and headed for the back of the large, round building. Without looking behind him, he heard Ingrid walking in his footsteps through the snow.
They reached the fire-escape ladder and shook it down. Leo went up first, slowly climbing the stories to the roof. Ingrid went after him, trying to make little noise. After ten minutes they got to the last level and climbed up the final hand-ladder to the flat, circular roof. "This is enough space, right?" Leo asked. Ingrid said it was. "Here we go, then," Leo said, heart beating with the exertion and apprehension. He took the end of his plank in his hands and pulled, extending it until it was at its full seven feet length.
Standing it on its end, he hit a switch on the side. A blue-white light at the top started to blink in the quiet night. Leo glanced at Ingrid out the corner of his eye and tapped a few buttons on his remote.
There was a short period of static, and then a deep voice answered. "Rudolph One; this had better be a real emergency."
"Yes sir. This is 9F-477-c. We've encountered an area where our sensors are finding nothing."
"So the new kid gets to contact the big man his very first year, huh?" The deep voice said. "I need more details."
"We've run out of ornaments and capsules," Leo said. His mind worked hard to keep him from recognizing the absurdity of what was going on. "I'm on the roof of a popular area hotel, and our sensors aren't getting anything."
After a short moment of silence, the other end said: "I never miss hotels. Give me a minute, Leo, and I'll get back to you. Keep the plank up." The call cut out.
"What'd he say?" Ingrid asked, overtaken by her curiosity.
"He said to give him a minute. He knew my nickname."
"Well, he's Santa, isn't he? I'm not surprised."
"Leo, are you there?" Saint Nicholas said over the comm. "I'm coming in, be there in two minutes. You're on the roof?"
"Yes sir."
"Make sure you stand off to the side." The connection cut.
Leo looked at Ingrid. "He's coming here. He also says we should stand back. From what?"
Ingrid was already huddled near the edge of the roof. "Don't argue, just get over here!"
"What? What?" Leo ran to where she crouched. "What's going to happen?"
"Okay you know that Christmas poem? 'On Dasher, on Dancer, et cetera?"
"Yeah . . ."
"He used to do that, but it isn't exactly the same anymore. Reindeer don't react to magic as well as what he's using now."
"What is he using now?" Leo asked, just as a keening began to split the quiet air. He looked west and saw a small shape closing in, blasting clouds out of the way and moving so fast it looked as if it was vibrating. Thirty seconds later Leo identified it as a big red sleigh with two red-hot rocket engines on either side. As it got closer, it seemed to slow, more and more, until eventually the sleigh landed with perfect precision, at a dead stop, in the very center of the roof.
Leo and Ingrid approached, feeling heat dissipate from the engines and cold from the kicked-up snow. Eventually it settled, revealing Santa Claus sitting in the sleigh, decked out in red furs, but with some additions the poem hadn't accounted for. He jumped out.
"Leo. Ingrid," he said, lifting goggles away from his eyes. He had white padded gloves, a red skullcap with a fat white tassel on top, red jacket, and black pants. Instead of traditional black boots he wore engineer boots. "Let's see what we have here." He took out a sensor of his own, bigger and clearly more powerful. just like theirs, no color appeared. He smacked it. "Well well." Under his curly white beard, he smiled. "Got you at last."
He looked at both of them. "He's not getting away this time." He reached into his sleigh and came back with a strange gun. He powered it up. "Stand back kids, Santa's got to kick some ass."
"Well, I have to admit," Leo said. "That's not something I expected to hear tonight." Santa had grabbed hold of the fire escape and dropped out of sight ten minutes ago. "What do you think it is?"
"I can't tell you. In ten years of doing this I have no idea what's going on." She looked unhappy at the prospect.
"Think he'll be okay?" Leo asked.
"He's Santa Claus. He'll be fine." They heard a rumble under them.
She was proved correct. After about twenty minutes, Santa hauled himself up to them, dragging a furry, horned beast, with legs like a goat and upper body like a man. "I got 'im. I finally got 'im!" Santa said, shouldering his rifle.
Leo stood pointing at the beast, lips pursed, as if trying to say the words what is that but was unable to start.
"'S the Krampus, boys and girls." Santa kicked it. "Malevolent beast that tries to counter-act my magic and spread bad feelings on Christmas. Well, he's spread his last."
The Krampus snarled something, and Santa gave it another brutal kick in the stomach. "Get in the sleigh, you beast!" He looked up. "Shouldn't have much more trouble around here anymore."
"Are there more than one of those things?" Leo asked. Santa nodded.
"Enough to give us problems all over the world. But this one's heading back to the North Pole to 'make presents' for all the good girls and boys." Santa grabbed one of the Krampus' horns and dragged it toward the sleigh. "I'm transferring this to a few handlers in a bit. They should be along to load you two up, too." He nodded to both of them. "Thanks for the help." He jumped into the sleigh and began to power up the engines.
He looked over his shoulder at them and saw Leo looking confused. "I may not be what you were expecting, Leo, but I'm still Santa, and this is still Christmas." He snapped reigns, which didn't seem to be connected to anything. "So don't worry, I'll still say it."
The engines roared and he took off, bellowing "MEEEEEERRY CHRISTMAS!" In a deep, booming voice. His sleigh disappeared.
They sat on the edge of the building, watching the sky. Neither of them spoke. Leo was trying to get it all lodged in his head properly.
"So, you met him. Are you happy now?" Ingrid said at last. "I knew it wouldn't be what you were expecting, but there you go. You just met Santa Claus."
"Yeah." Leo thought for a moment. "Is that why you didn't want to meet him? Because you knew it would be different than how you pictured it?"
"Sort of," Ingrid said. "There were a lot of reasons." They sat for a little longer.
"So it was different," Leo said. "But it was still okay, wasn't it?"
Ingrid snorted. "Yeah, I suppose it was."
"Well, that's what's important, right?" Leo looked around him, at the city layered with magic. "Things change all the time. People. Cities, even. We can't stop that, and I suppose what's important is to make sure that we can still enjoy it. We may have had Christmases that were from twenty years ago, and we'd get Legos or barbies, or whatever, but now kids will get an iPod or something like that."
"And if we've done our job, then they'll still look back with happy thoughts."
"Then let's make sure we do our job," Leo said, catching sight of a small sleigh, guided by an elf, speeding toward them.