Listen to the Trees and Other Curious Tales

The snow was falling steadily and silently.

In frozen patterns of original lace and in the gentlest manner, the frozen yet decorative flakes of snow glided down in an unorganised yet somehow synchronised and beautiful display, to settle upon the top of an already heavy ground covering.

The glistening flakes were everywhere that the eye could see. The dark sky was full of them gliding down inexorably but beautifully to add to the deep layers that had been silently building up for some days.

My name is Eric and I’m one of Santa’s new helpers in my green jacket and matching green trousers. I’m stood right now shivering in the freezing cold of this red sentry box with its little snow covered ridge roof. It’s positioned at the entrance to the big workshop compound there behind me. I’m a bit of a skinny lad I guess, with a very youthful face and you would swear, if you met me, I had just finished senior school last week. Of course I hadn’t, I had finished all my schooling many, many years ago and even before that. The problem, if it was one, is that I just looked like I had just finished school, honestly, but that was because of who I am, or rather what I am; we all just stay looking young forever, really.

I had never been to Santa’s workshops before, spending all my life up to now in a woodland glen that I normally called home. There I forever kept looking young, not just because I was a faerie, but also because I really loved my carefree job helping the other faeries with whatever they were doing. This kept me very young indeed.

It was usually warm in the glen that I had left, sometimes on a summer’s day it was even pleasantly hot. Here it was freezing cold, a cold I had never felt before. To stop my ears from hurting too much, I had pulled my green pointed hat down and jammed it tightly over them.

Outside of the compound I knew that there were miles and miles of open frozen land but nothing could really be seen beyond a few yards in front of me.

Me, nor anyone else for that matter, would be able to see far beyond the beautifully decorative walls of the gently falling whiteness that continued silently drifting this way and that way, through the still cold air.

In this sentry box there was just enough room for me to stand while the front of it was, of course, wide open to the weather. The sentry box was positioned just inside of the impressive gilded wrought iron gates beneath their covering of snow. They were wide open and could not have been closed in a hundred years or even more, I didn’t know.

The only genuine barrier to entry into the workshop compound was a red and green pole that sat across the road, from a hinged post, just inside of the frozen snow laden gates. It rested on top of a similar post on the far side of this entrance road.

It was not actually possible to see the road because of the hardened snow constantly being topped by fresh soft stuff that was being laid everywhere.

If anyone decided to come here on a visit, or whatever, I had been told that “Yes, there would be visitors from time to time,” and if I was satisfied who these visitors were, I was to raise the red and green barrier pole to let then in. All I had to do was lean on the weighted end and it would hinge up so easily, I had been told. But the elf who told me was dashing away to his work as he gave me these few tips, pointing in the direction of the sentry box as he did so. He then also said that he didn’t know anything about being a sentry.

I had thanked him but then stopped to wonder why. I was sure that he had meant well and he did at least point me in the right direction. Looking at this striped pole, I hoped that it would be easy to wipe off the several inches of snow sat on top of it before trying to lift it up.

Nobody had told me how I was to be satisfied that any visitor might be suitable, but I believed that my innate common sense from a life in the woodland glen would guide me, perhaps; maybe a big perhaps.

I had been stood here in his sentry box since early morning, very early morning. It was now nearly afternoon tea-time and nobody had been spotted by me who might want to come in or just stop by for a chat. In fact not a living soul had been seen anywhere; there was nothing but miles upon miles of falling snow. I had stopped straining my eyes for a possible visitor and just resigned myself to keeping inside the shelter of this little sentry box. I had had no need to wipe the snow off the pole or raise it up into the air and was becoming thoroughly miserable in the cold.

This was the entry into Santa’s compound where his workshops, his lodge and lots and lots of big wooden log cabins were located. The elves and the helpers lived in the cabins which were kept as warm as toast from the big fires that never stopped burning.

I had spent last night, my very first night, with some of the very friendly elves in one of their pleasantly warm cabins; I wished I was back there right now. I had come straight away this morning to the sentry box because my name had appeared on a sheet of paper pinned up on the back of the door.

I considered myself to be a reliable character, self confident and capable of always doing the right thing even if I had not been told what that might be.

In this hive of industry everyone had a job preparing for Christmas, many months hence; not for themselves of course, but for all the children who would be receiving presents on Christmas morning. The elves and helpers worked hard, as did Santa Clause, making all the different types of toys, sweets and all sorts of goodies ready for the night of delivery. This would be a very special occasion when all the work would be at an end and the sleds and the reindeers would come out and be packed for their amazing journeys.

“Eric, my dear,” the words were spoken in a very loud whisper into my partly covered ear and caught me by surprise. I jumped straight up into the air in surprise, not quite reaching the top of the sentry box. If I had, I would surely have banged my head.

“Woahhhhhh,” I sort of cried out, despite the cold; my mouth seemed to be still working

When I came down from my enormous jump, there standing next to me was who I guessed might be Mrs. Clause.

“Now don’t be frightened my young man,” she spoke in more than a whisper. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, you know.”

“Are you your normal self now?” she enquired.

“I’ve always been me,” I replied not having any idea what Mrs Clause meant.

“Are you,” I hesitated to ask because I was sure that I knew the answer, but I had to ask, “Mrs. Santa Clause?” 

I was not really guessing, I guessed, based on the notion that there could only be one lady here at the compound, not counting all the lady faeries that there must be. I had no idea if more like me were here, a man faerie.

She was dressed in the same colours as Santa; a heavy red suit with a white fur (not real fur I supposed) trimmed jacket and skirt, a black belt round her ample midriff and black leather boots. But she was not wearing a red hat like Santa, only a smaller version without a point, and she didn’t have a big white beard (of course she didn’t, well I couldn’t see one; oh come on Eric don’t lose the plot). But she did have a red and white scarf thrown round her neck just inside what appeared to be some sort of heavy red shawl draped over her shoulders.

“That’s correct Eric,” she replied. “I’m Mrs. Carol Clause, not Mrs. Santa Clause. Please do not call me Carol, Mrs. Clause will do nicely. I prefer that.

My initials appear at the bottom of lots and lots of letters and I don’t like being called that ‘CC’ either.”

I just stood there, a little dumbfounded not really knowing what was being said to me. This was the wife of Santa Clause who liked to be called Mrs. Clause, not Carol; that would do for me because I liked being respectful.

I was now shivering a lot from the cold and not looking at all happy. Another I noticed was that Mrs. Clause had also started shivering but how, I thought, with all those clothes, wraps, scarves and a nice hat on, could she be cold.

I noted and remembered for the future how Mrs. Clause was dressed. I had something of a ‘thing’ about how people were dressed for some reason or other, that even I didn’t even understand why; it was a thing’ with me.

Mrs Clause was a portly lady, nearly as big as Santa, and she also liked, it seemed, to wear the same bright red colour clothes. I was in the all-green of the faerie glen and I knew that I looked different to the elves in whose cabin I had slept last night. They were all wearing mixtures of red, green and brown; I was just in all green. It had not occurred to me that perhaps I should be also dressed like them instead of my bright green tunic, trousers, shoes and hat.

Her hands had to be warm because she was also wearing big fur lined gloves. And her head and ears must be warm also because the heavy fur lined hat had flaps that came over and covered her ears.

Seeing Mrs Clause dressed like this and yet shivering made me feel even colder in my lightweight uniform. My sudden fright at the unexpected whisper in my ear was not helping matters that much.

“Why are you stood here, Eric?” she asked me calmly and politely.

Now I did think that that was a very strange question.

“Because my name was on the roster pinned up on the back of the door of the lodge,” I explained in a stutter as my teeth began chattering on their own.

Mrs Clause laughed out loud and through this managed to ask me, “Have you ever done sentry duty before? Oh and why are you dressed like that, you must be freezing?”

“No,” I replied to the first part of the question, “this is my first time and my first day here in Santa’s compound.” I liked to give long accurate answers but short and sweet would do right now. “And yes, I am feeling the cold a little,” I finished, shivering so badly that it was obvious it was much worse than that.

“I didn’t have time to find out what I should be doing. I asked one of my new friends in the cabin, who was in a rush to get to the workshops, and he said something about finding the sentry box and pointed me in this direction.”

Mrs. Clause could not help but chuckle.

“Is something funny?” I asked Mrs Clause quite genuinely.

“Just a little,” she replied. “Don’t worry yourself. Come with me into the guard house, oh and raise this barrier first if you will,” she said pointing to the snow covered red and green pole.

I became a little more confused now, more than I was a few minutes ago.

“Are you sure,” I queried. “I thought this was supposed to stop people coming in until they had been checked by me or something like that.”

“I’m sure,” she replied. “I’ve been doing this job for many years; I think I know what’s required by now. That pole must have come down in the strong wind we had a couple of days ago.”

“What,” I asked feeling rather daft but trying hard, “being a sentry?”

“No you silly thing,” she replied laughing out loud again, “I write the rosters and make sure that this guard house is kept comfortable, nice and warm. I also look after the sentries, make sure they know what they are supposed to do, oh and lots of other things but nothing to worry you with.”

“This IS your first time, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes,” I meekly replied, feeling rather stupid and with my teeth chattering a lot more now.

“Thought so. I’m sorry I missed you arriving last night, you were rather late coming here,” she continued. “And I was a little late coming out here to you today, I’m sorry for that also. There’s been a bit of a panic this last week in the factory; we ran out of wheels and all the shifts had to be altered to make something else until we could get some more. Re-writing all the rosters kept me up until after midnight, three days running. Come along now, follow me.”

 She strolled off, to one side of the barrier, in the direction of what I took to be the guard house that she had just mentioned.

Mrs. Clause paused to look back to find me still rooted to the spot; I hadn’t moved an inch, was still a little, no a lot, very, confused. All the information that had just come my way really confused me.

 I had volunteered for what I thought would be a pleasant change from the faerie glen with nothing too hard to bother me. “How wrong I had been”, I thought to myself.

“Well come on then,” she chided me. “Get the barrier up and follow me.”

Almost in a dream I got my feet moving and ran my hand along the barrier pole, brushing all the accumulated snow off to lessen the weight.

“Ohhh that’s cold,” I said out loud while shuddering and pulling my hand back to bury it under my armpit. “My hand’s freezing, my fingers are going numb.”

And so now was my armpit where I had jammed my cold fingers. I pulled them straight back out in some confusion, a very cold confusion.

Mrs. Clause hadn’t moved, remaining where she was, smiling broadly at me as I leaned on the weighted end of the barrier pole with his other not-so-cold left hand. The long red and green striped pole flew up in the air with ease but as it reached the top it stopped quickly with a loud bang and a shudder. A shower of the snow still clinging to it came flying off to land mostly on top of my head.

The pole then started back down until I had the presence of thought to quickly lean my whole body on the weighted end to bring it back up to the straight up & down position. I nearly went into the up and down position as it didn’t stop straight away. I was now really cold and with the shower of fresh snow all over me was feeling increasingly miserable.

“What am I doing here?” I mumbled to myself.

“Come on Eric,” Mrs. Clause with a big grin on her face called over to the shivering wreck that was now me. She had reached the few steps up and onto the veranda at the front of the guard room and was looking impatiently back at me although her smile had not gone away.

Through the deepening snow on the ground, I shuffled in my lightweight pointy shoes to catch up with Mrs. Clause until I stood alongside her on the veranda. Having passed a second green and red pole, like the one I had just raised, I looked at Mrs. Clause, then to the pole for a moment and then back again asking without speaking for instructions.

“No, no Eric. Leave that one where it is, there’s a good chap. Come on in and get yourself warmed up,” she told me, turning away to open the entrance door.

A draught of pleasantly, soul warming air flew out from the inside of the building to greet me. For a fleeting moment I was back in the glen.

I stood still, yet again trying to figure out what was really happening, before managing to ignore the feelings of warm confusion. I stepped forward.

Mrs. Clause just walked straight in after me, her smile unabated.

“Come on, quickly keep going, let me close the door behind us, we don’t want to lose all this warmth, now do we?” she chided me once more, but in a friendly, pleasant sort of way.

The problem is that I was not only new to doing whatever sentries had to do but I had also been in the compound for one night only and everything was still very strange, especially right now.

“I spoke to your Faerie Queen in the glen after your name came out of my computer,” she started to explain to me. “She told me that you were somewhere or other helping out, but would definitely find you and explain as soon as she could. It must have taken a little time to find you.”

Mrs. Clause loved her new computer, a present from Santa last year. It took away the dreadful task of each year having to sort through the tens of thousands of old cards with the details of each elf, faerie, pixie, gnome or other helper, to find out whose turn it might be to do some duty or other. The list of available elves, faeries, etc. had to be sorted to share the work around and also according to the skills of each and how many would be needed that coming year. That must have taken her for ever but us sort did have that much time I guess.

“She found me when I returned to the glen late in the evening,” I replied. “But as soon as I had arrived home, I was instructed to fly here straight away. She didn’t really have much time to tell me very much before I was winging my way here during the night. One of the elves was stood just outside near the old gate waiting for me,” he continued. “and I was taken straight to a big log cabin where I was given a really soft and comfortable bed.”

“Is that why you slept-in this morning?” she asked with another big smile on her face. “Let’s not worry about it,” she told me realising that I was starting to look a little worried.

“My first day, I’ve messed up, and it’s getting worse,” I thought to myself.

“No, no, no,” she replied to my thought. “You mustn’t worry yourself; we all make little mistakes from time to time. You found your way this morning to the same main gate that you came through last night, I assume you came through this gate, and you started your duty straight away; that was very good. Well done Eric,” and she meant it.

“But I hadn’t seen the gate,” I replied, “as I flew in, in the dark. I spotted the lanterns swinging on each cabin and took a calculated guess to land.”

“That was very good, Eric and even better that you found the entrance this morning. I’m impressed.”

I think she actually meant it.

“But I do. I always mean what I say.”

She was reading my mind again and replied with a big knowing grin.

She told me that her new computer was good but not at all perfect because a lot of information was missing from the records on the old cards which she had to sort out; the computer couldn’t do that. A big update had been needed.

I had never been here before and was not properly recorded on the cards. What little information about me there had been on the old card file, she told me that it was anything but accurate. Maybe this was because I was always darting all over the place, barely stopping for a break, not allowing others to catch up with me. My records on me were not up to date, how could Mrs. Clause’ be any different?

I had been given what I thought was probably the worst duty of all, to be a sentry; it had been there on the piece of paper pinned to the back of the log cabin door.

“Who could possibly have done this to me?” I had thought. “Perhaps it was a lesson I’m supposed to learn,” was the last thought that went through my head as I fell asleep last night.

I had hoped that someone would come along to meet me and give me a job in a warm place, like the toy workshops. It guessed that it might be hard work there, but at least I would be warm and anything would be better than this awful job of sentry. But that’s what it had said on the piece of paper, so a sentry it was.

Stepping further inside past the warm smile of Mrs. Clause, she finally closed the door behind us.

It was warm in here, really warm, so warm that I thought I might fall asleep if I stayed too long. I lifted my pointy green hat clear off my ears, which had now turned a bright red. They would soon recover in this lovely heat, of that I was certain.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Clause exclaimed looking towards the big fire, “I thought those logs would last all night but it looks as though they have burnt a bit quicker than I expected.”

I just stood confused, but a little warmer than five minutes ago and that was a massive improvement.

I watched as she reached for a couple of logs from the stack by the fireside. She carefully placed them one at a time on the glowing embers, which didn’t look as though they would keep going much longer. They instantly burst into flame with some crackling and spluttering.

I was surprised once again. I had not seen anything like this in the glen.

Mrs. Clause noticed my surprised expression despite my frozen red cheeks.

“Aha Eric. You see these logs are not your normal logs, they have been, shall we say altered slightly by a good faerie we know, so that they light up straight away.”

“Who was this ‘good faerie’?” I enquired. I did not know of one that could make wood suddenly light up in a fire.

“Are you impressed, Eric?” she asked ignoring my question, still smiling. “You should be, everything is special here, because well,” she paused before breaking into rhyme.

“It’s Santa’s special place for making toys,”

“For all of the good little girls and boys.”

Yet another big smile crossed her face.

“I really am a poet,”

“But really didn’t know it.”

Now she was laughing out loud, just like Santa does.

I couldn’t help myself but I felt a smile start and without warning it just got bigger and I wasn’t even trying.

“There we go,” she said, “you’re feeling better already, now aren’t you?”

“This room will be much warmer shortly,” she continued. If you see the fire starting to die, put another log on, that’s what they are for. And there’s plenty more in the bin outside. Do not worry, if they seem to be going down too fast, they will replace themselves automatically. That’s something I sorted out with the help of a couple of other good faeries. Great isn’t it?”

“Why would I be putting logs on the fire when I’m a sentry? I should be outside in the cold shouldn’t I?” I queried.

“Yes and no,” Mrs. Clause replied. “Yes, you’re on sentry duty, but no, you do not need to stand outside getting colder and colder. If I hadn’t come along when I did, you would have soon been a block of ice and I would have had to spend hours slowly defrosting you,” she chuckled.

“Right now,” she continued, “we need a hot meal inside of you before I tell you more but it looks as though the last sentry managed to scoff it all before finishing last night.”

“How could I possibly be a sentry and be here inside in this lovely, warm room?” I asked again.

“Shortly, shortly,” she replied. “First come along with me,” and she directed me, wandering, or so it seemed, into a side room. “Come on, come on,” she beckoned.

“Now the fire in here,” she explained pointing to another roaring log fire, “never goes out, or should I say it should never go out. It’s for cooking and the only thing that needs your attention is what you have decided to cook.”

“But I can’t cook,” I stuttered. “I really can’t.” I was capable of many things but making wood burn and cooking were two things I couldn’t do. I could make cooking burn but that was not very useful.

“But of course you can. By the time that the next thirty minutes have passed you will find that you really can cook, here in Santa’s compound, if no where else. This place really is special, I assure you.”

Mrs. Clause reached for a cast iron cauldron hanging on a hook by the side of the fire and took it over to a big wooden worktop.

“She seems to have some reserve of strength the way she handled that heavy cauldron,” I thought.

“Not really, young man,” she responded, reading my thoughts yet again. “It’s all to do with who lives here. It’s a bit like the place where you’ve just come from. You can all do all sorts of special things in your glen, can’t you? Things I couldn’t do, probably.”

She was right and obviously didn’t want an answer so carried on.

“This is not only the kitchen,” she started to explain, “but it’s also a pantry; open that door and take a look.” 

She pointed to a big door at the end of this room with a big sign on it that said ‘PANTRY’. I found myself smiling again; I just couldn’t stop myself and I didn’t know why.

 “What we need is the ingredients to make a tasty broth that will keep our visitors warm and well filled up, after they have arrived,” she started to explain. “And, of course the sentry also; that’s you Eric, isn’t it.” She just smiled another big, special smile that meant she didn’t want an answer.

I found myself unable not to smile; something was happening that was very different to the faerie glen and I was being carried along with whatever it was. When Mrs. Clause smiled I couldn’t help myself but had to join in with a smile of my own.

“Bring me some carrots, Swedes, potatoes, onions and a big jug of the stock that is kept in the pantry,” she directed me.

“Er, how many do you want, Mrs. Clause; how many carrots, how many Swedes and so on?” I asked.

“Oh a big handful of each,” she replied, “it doesn’t really matter. And you will find bunches of herbs hanging up on a hook. I could do with some of them also.”

I had to take a few trips into the pantry, bringing back everything she asked for, in several armfuls. She pointed to the end of a wooden worktop and I gathered them together in a big pile.

Taking a big chopping knife off the wall and picking up each vegetable in turn, Mrs Clause proceeded to chop them up at a speed I had never seen before. The carrots ended up in a big pile of circular pieces, the Swedes were chopped into small cubes as were the potatoes, although in much larger cubes The onions were sliced into nice semi-circular strands and of course the herbs into lots and lots of very, very small pieces.

All the diced, chopped, sliced vegetables and herbs were scooped up with a well practised skill by Mrs. Clause and dropped into the cauldron with another example of expertise telling me that she had done this many times before.

Then a jug of stock was carefully added to the pot. I didn’t remember bringing the jug of stock to the table but someone had to have done so because there it was in Mrs. Clause’s hands.

I was amazed to see the pot fill up almost to the top although the stock jug could not possibly have held enough liquid.

“I think we could do with some beef to really bring the stew alive,” said Mrs. Clause.

 “But I thought we didn’t eat meat,” I queried because we didn’t or, at least I didn’t think we did.

“Mmmm, but yes we do,” replied Mrs Clause, “but don’t go telling everyone, because they know already.” She chuckles to herself. “We get some beef for Santa, he really enjoys it when it has been cooked properly, and he is happy to share it around wherever it is needed.”

“If you go back into the larder, you will find a big fridge and a large chunk of beef hanging up inside it. If you bring it to me I will prepare that also,” Mrs. Clause said.

I duly went back into the larder and there it was; a fridge that I had not noticed the last time I walked in there. A big sign stuck to it said “FRIDGE”.

I’m sure that it wasn’t there before; confusion again just as things were starting some sort of sense.

Opening the door to the fridge there it was, the big chunk of beef Mrs. Clause wanted, all wrapped up in a sort of plastic film and hanging by a hook from the top shelf. It was the only thing in the fridge and I was now increasing my confusion; a whole fridge for one piece of meat?. In fact I was now heading back to the confusion I had felt at the start of the day, the rest of day, and thus far with Mrs. Clause.

I took hold of the heavy piece of beef hanging there and paused to wonder what else the day could possibly bring to further confuse me. The fridge door was still open (I was stood there wondering just a little what was going on) and right before my eyes, a new piece of meat identical to the one I had just removed, appeared all by itself hanging from the top shelf.

That was a little too much for me. I almost slammed the door close in my haste to move away to deliver the cold, heavy lump I was holding back to Mrs. Clause.

Handing it over to her, I stood there speechless as she chopped it all up into neat cube shapes in a blurring, almost blink of an eye.

“How on earth do you do that?” he asks. “And how did more meat just appear in the fridge after I took out the piece you wanted?” he continued to ask.

“Ah well Eric,” Mrs. Clause replied. “This is Santa’s compound, is it not, and many, many things are not what you might call normal, certainly not what humans would call normal. And I’m sure you elves think just the same, or you would not be asking me the question, would you?”

“True,” I came back, “I’ve seen nothing like this where I come from.”

“And as for my cooking,” she continued with a bigger grin if that was possible, “I’ve been here a very, very long time and I’ve had lots and lots of practice.”

I shrugged my shoulders in a sort of accepting, agreement.

All the ingredients were now in the pot and over the top Mrs. Clause poured yet another big jug full of stock and somehow, it did not spill over.

I was truly confused now because the jug had already been poured into the pot filling it up and leaving the jug empty. As Mrs. Clause had reached again for the jug, it was clearly full of stock again. The pot which a short while ago had been full to the top was now able to take another jug load.

“Right my lad,” Mrs. Clause turned to me, “you can carry this for me, if you will,” she said indicating the well filled pot. “And put it back onto the big swinging arm by the fire; if you will.”

I took hold of the cauldron handle, picked the now heavy pot with an ease that really surprised me. I tool it over to the big swinging arm, hooked it on and without waiting for an instruction, swung it gently over the fire to catch the heat of the flames and start cooking.

The stew came to the boil almost straight away, then turned itself down to a simmer; the smell was truly delicious.

“How on earth does it cook that fast”, I asked.

“Mmmmm,” Mrs. Clause replied. “We may be on the earth but as I have already said to you, this is Santa’s special place and things are not the same here, now are they?” she asked rhetorically. “This is where magic of all sorts happens, especially when making lots of toys,” she continued. “But there is always a little magic left over for other things, enough for your dinner and supper and this pot of stew.” She chuckled again.

“You haven’t eaten today, have you?” she asked without waiting for a reply. “Well you must have some of this lovely stew for breakfast, but not just yet, it needs a little longer, I promise.”

It looked finished to me even it had only taken a few moments.

“Ah now, we may have forgotten something Eric, can you guess what?” she asked.

I was still a little more dumbfounded at what was happening before my eyes and couldn’t put any thoughts or words together to make a reply.

“I know what,” Mrs. Clause said as she hurried past me into the pantry, returning with six big dumplings on a plate that she dropped carefully, one at a time, into the bubbling stew.

I decided not to bother asking any more ‘how’s’ or ‘why’s’. I had come to the conclusion that I must just go along with whatever happens here.

“You know,” she said turning back to me, “you really should have been at yesterday’s briefing when all would have been explained. But I know the old man was trying to get the production line up to maximum speed and forgot to ask me to send the message to your Fairy Queen, until it was almost too late. Never the mind, you’re here now and that’s all that matters. It was a little bit of good fortune that I came to see what you were up to when I did, or you might have frozen solid out there, like a block of fairy ice. I wonder what faerie ice looks like?” she said, chuckling at her own silly joke.

I managed a smile of sorts with a quiet nod to match. It was all becoming a bit too much.

  “I really must tell you what your duties are here at Santa’s place, but first let us go into the lounge,” Mrs. Clause directed me. “Come, let’s find an easy chair.”

I somehow managed to get my legs working, which were still a little wobbly, and my head was spinning a bit from everything that happened this morning. I followed Mrs. Clause.

There was no problem with finding an easy chair, the room was empty and there were maybe a dozen chairs waiting for someone to sit in them. Mrs. Clause sank into the first one she encountered and motioned me to sit in one alongside her, which I did.

“You are not really guarding the workshops, or really anything else,” Mrs. Clause started her explanation. “Any stranger who manages to find his way here will be most welcome; this is Santa’s place and everyone is welcome here, it doesn’t matter who they are. They will probably be so exhausted that they will need some of your stew to recover themselves. A bowlful for a stranger will not only refresh him, or her,” she stressed the last words. “But also put them into a pleasant sleep for a little while, after which they will be one of nicest people you will have ever met.”

I was sort of impressed and asked, “Do you have many real strangers visiting here?”

“I seem to remember that we had one about twenty years ago,” Mrs. Clause replied, “but he wasn’t looking for us; he was just lost.”

“Your real job as a sentry is to keep an eye open for the incoming sleds that will be bringing in all the orders for lots of toys for the girls and boys and squillions and squillions of sweets.” she chuckled at that silliness of those words she chose. “Everything waiting to go out is all there in the stores. The toys will have been arranged already by the elves and wrapped with the child’s name on. All the sled driver has to do is leave it with the elves in the parking bays and come back an hour or two later. The sleds will have been filled and filled again by the elves of the workshops,” she continued, “ready to leave as soon as the master, the pilot or whatever the driver is called is.”

“The sled will land out there, somewhere outside of the compound even with the snow coming down like this. The drivers will find their own way in through the main gate and will only come as far as this second barrier, waiting for you to open it, if it’s not already open; the one you opened ten minutes ago. All you have to do is sit in the warmth, have some food and drink, oh and I nearly forgot, in that big sideboard, there are lots of bottles of ginger pop; you really must help yourself.”

“And don’t worry about falling asleep because if a sled lands you will find yourself waking up automatically. These chairs are not just chairs; they are very, very special chairs. They are going-to-sleep-in-the-warmth and waking-up-for-visitor chairs; truly.”

“When a sled appears, go out to lift the barrier, if it has come back down, say hello to the driver and invite him into here for a helping of warm food and drink and somewhere to rest. He will take up your invitation after everything has been taken care of. Don’t worry about the reindeer. Once they have been let in they should all know where to go. They also where the loading bays are and of course the stables after they have been unhitched. Don’t forget all the other elves who will take care of anything else, nothing for you to worry about.”

“You will also certainly encounter a few of the new type of sleds that don’t have any reindeers at all pulling them. They seem strange to me, very strange, but I’ve being this job a very long time and I’m a bit old fashioned I guess. This type of sled just flies through the sky with only a ‘pilot’ at something called controls, whatever they are; no reindeers, really weird, very weird.”

“The sled masters and these new “pilots” will all come back here if they have gone to see their reindeers bedded down or their sleds parked in the loading bay and prepared for their return journeys. Some of them still like to supervise the unhitching of the reindeer, a sort of personal thing, I guess. Give all of them as much food as they want, you know where the fresh vegetables are, a few glasses of mulled wine, that’s in the sideboard with the ginger beer. Let them find a bunk to sleep in; the dormitories are through that door at the end with lots and lots of bunks. You will almost certainly find one or two are happy just to fall sleep in these comfy chairs; that’s ok. If the stew needs replenishing, you now know how to make some more and where all the food is kept. Make as much as you need.”

“Right Eric,” Mrs. Clause said, obviously coming to an end of her lengthy explanations, “that’s about it. Come on get some food inside of you, have a drink and sink into that nice soft chair.”

I just stood there, a bit brain numb, while Mrs. Clause wandered into the kitchen, returning with a large bowl of the stew and dumplings for me.

“Come on Eric, sit down and get stuck into this,” she said offering the bowl in my direction.

I managed to make my legs work to the nearest chair, sat down and eagerly took the hot bowl from her, placing it carefully on my lap.

“Don’t worry if you doze off after your food. As soon as a sled comes up to the barrier, I promise you that the chair will sound a loud alarm to wake you up, it really will.”

Mrs. Clause smiled another big smile.

“She knows more than she’s saying,” I thought. “But how could it mean anything other than something pleasant or funny. Mrs. Clause was a very nice lady; well she had to be, being married to Santa.”

The smile on Mrs. Clause’s face was even bigger, if that was possible.

“You know,” she said, “a lot of elves actually ask for this job, but all must take their turn in the duties roster. You are remarkably lucky. The computer had selected your name but Santa had left the pages of my print-out in his workshop. Your name was the only one to appear on the very last page, which he had not seen. I picked it up and checking through the names, found yours had not been ticked off. We do sometimes make mistakes but thankfully not very often.”

“Landing the position of sentry so soon in your career is very unusual. Maybe the computer is not as random as we like to think; maybe someone is really looking out for you.”

Mrs. Clause got to her feet and from respect I jumped up to mine nearly spilling my stew. Managing to place it on a small table in front of me, without falling over my own feet, raised yet another smile from Mrs Clause.

“And if you’re very lucky,” she continued, while moving in the direction of the door to leave, “the old man himself will pay you a visit.”

I was at last starting to smile, not a big one, not yet, but a good one to start with. Maybe it was the small amount of stew I had eaten so far that was having an effect because I really was starting to feel so good inside, or maybe it was the infectious fun and happiness of Mrs. Clause rubbing off on me.

It didn’t matter which, I was almost back to my normal happy self.

“It’s a little bit better than standing in the cold of that sentry box, is it not?” she asked rhetorically. “That’s only to look nice for visitors which we rarely have. One in twenty years,” she chuckled yet again.

I felt my smile getting bigger, spreading right across my face; it was hard to believe how nice it felt. “It has to be the stew,” I thought, “or was it?”

“Enjoy your time here,” Mrs. Clause concluded. “I will see you again in a week or two; bye, bye for now.”

And with that Mrs. Clause turned round to give me a big hug and a warm kiss on my cheek. I was thankful that I had put my stew down especially as my legs were still a little bit wobbly.

“A big hug and kiss from Mrs. Clause; WOW,” I thought.

Mrs. Clause left by the front door, letting in a short blast of very cold air. She stepped out onto the veranda, paused to look at the falling snow which she must have seen so many times before, before going down the steps. I watched from a frosted window as she walked out into the heavy blankets of falling snow towards the workshops until she disappeared from my view.

I was having a hard time now to not smile. My first time working for Santa and had ended up with the best job, how lucky was that. There are always times when what seems like a little bad luck will turn out, instead, for the very best and this is what I now realised. The glen might be a different place when I finally got back.

I knew that it would take a long, long time before I stopped smiling.

~ o ~

Author’s Notes. 

Eric I met quite by accident; REALLY.

During my many trips up and down the country and with still a long way to go to reach home on this one occasion, I pulled into a village pub that I had spotted a sign for. I needed a rest and was hungry.

It was turning dark and I got myself off the busy main road and travelled for a short while along a dark country lane until encountering a lovely old public house with strong black beams projecting from the white plastered panels; very ‘oldie-worldly’. There was a small parking area at one end of the pub and some external seating to its frontage.

Hurrying inside for a cold relaxing drink I was lucky to be able to make an order for food before the kitchen closed.

Sat outside in the cool air on one of those wooden picnic-type tables with benches, the chef brought my food out himself as the last one of his day and with a long cold drink in his other hand. He introduced himself as Eric and asked if he could join me. I agreed, of course; his company would be fine to break the monotony of the lengthy driving and the technical problems that were still circling within the grey stuff between my ears.

Sitting on the bench opposite me, he explained that he sensed that I was someone that at last he could tell his story to. With other ‘mortals’ he had not been able to break into conversation but he ‘knew’ that I was different.

That story is what you have just read. I wrote it from his point of view pretty much as he told it to me; a few extra words here and there have been added to tell his story.

 I was still a little surprised and a bit sceptical about his assertion of being an elf and of working for Santa, so I decided to ask him instead about his cooking and how long he had been a chef in a country pub.

He told me that he had been here for some years now and thoroughly enjoyed being a chef; he had learnt a lot from Mrs. Clause.

I remained bemused but for politeness remained silent and uncritical, letting him continue to tell me what ever he would.

I caught him momentarily glancing past me to something in the dark on the other side of the unlit road and so I turned to look at whatever it was that had caught his attention. There was a collection of glowing fire-flies dancing in among the bushes and their movement also held my attention for a few moments. I turned back towards Eric who, to my surprise, was no longer where he had been seated only a few moments ago.

I let this pass, perhaps that was just his way and besides I was tired and it was late in the day.

Having finished my bite to eat and in need of another cooling drink, I went back inside the pub and walked up to the bar. The manager was serving and when I queried him about Eric, I was told that tonight had been the last night of his contract. His expressed intention has been to return to his home, wherever that may be. He had never disclosed anything of his life or his adventures to anyone else until sitting opposite to me.

"He was a good cook and that was all that had really mattered to me."

I thought of the fire-flies and went back outside with another long cool drink and sat back at the same table but on the other side where Eric had been sat.

Now there were no dancing fireflies no matter how hard I looked. I relaxed and took a cooling sip from my drink when to my surprise the lights of the fireflies suddenly appeared on the other side of the road. They were not dancing around but absolutely stationary and I was transfixed at that until an unexpected feeling of a really loving warmth and sense of happiness that crept over me for just a few moments.

Then the fireflies seemed to fly in a sort of regular circle, something I had never witnessed before, disappearing never to be seen again; not that night in any case.

I could only come to the conclusion that perhaps I had seen the home that Eric was heading to.

~ o ~