by Ellen Mint
“What? Thirty-five, but that’s…”
“Endgame.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, mother.” Hour thirty-five was when morning would catch up to them and the time bubble burst on its own. It wasn’t an apocalyptic end of the world. “How long do we have?”
Clacking noises broke over the line, but when her mother resumed speaking she didn’t answer Nadire. “You’re going to do a fly-by. I’ve got a parade happening outside in Las Vegas. We break the bubble, you sprint the sleigh over their heads, shout the usual ‘Merry Christmas’ and skip on to Alaska.”
“I know what a flyby is, but…Mom, there’s a lot of gifts in a lot of the world remaining.” God, she’d be skipping all of California.
“Dear, that’s what elves are for. I already have them lined up for infiltration.”
Nadire snickered at herself. “I fully forgot that trick. Though I never told Dad when we’d pull that move.”
“His ego was always easily wounded. I assumed you could take the blow better. Now, get to Las Vegas already. The parade is reaching its nadir soon and it needs a lovely capstone. I’ll have Eval send you the coordinates.”
Emeric leaned closer, his shaggy hair brushing against her cheek. “What exactly are we doing?”
A smile burned on Nadire’s face, “Reminding the world that Santa Claus exists. Yah!” She cracked the whip, skipping past the slumbering houses filling with gifts courtesy of elves that walked between realities.
It didn’t take long to find the parade, the vast sea of red and green tipped her off and the lights pointed at the sky. Their time dilation was so strong it looked like all the people were frozen in place, arms sloshing drinks, heads tipped back in merriment, children mid-hoist onto shoulders. But Nadire knew if she watched long enough, arms would move an inch, legs would shift and the parade would crawl further down the strip.
“All right, Mom. I’m here,” Nadire called, hovering the sleigh directly above a Santa themed float. A bit childish perhaps, but she couldn’t help herself. The plywood and crepe paper version below helped juxtapose a proper flying sleigh, reindeer snorting frozen air as they danced upon nothing but sky.
“Breaking the time bubble in three, two…one!”
Noise snapped into being. The cadence of drums, joyful shouting, and the hocking of food nearly overpowered her mother counting down for the time dilation resumption. For a breath, Nadire stared down at the masses. People—sometimes sinful, sometimes generous, sometimes both at the same time. All of them were living their lives, finding delight in the wonders of the season, and she was able to sit front row to it all.
Gasps parted through the crowd, the joyful cheers silencing like a blackout as heads pivoted above the Santa float to the real sleigh floating just above. Reaching a hand out, Nadire waved her glimmering black glove and shouted, “Merry Christmas!”
No doubt most eyes were on her partner, Emeric in full fur as he too waved to the crowd. Raising her arms, she gave a great show of cracking the reins. The reindeer launched into a half-sprint causing the sleigh to shoot down the street at forty miles-per-hour.
Her mother’s voice spat out of the speakers, “Nadire, the laugh!”
Crap. “Ho, ho, ho!” Nadire shouted, pumping a fist over the crowds of craned-back faces. Giving another whip of the reins, she sped the sleigh up until it became little more than a red streak in the sky to the thousands of people that just witnessed a miracle.
“And…time bubble synched,” Adalet reported. “All right, that should show up on the news soon enough. You’ve got exactly three hours and thirteen minutes to finish Western Canada and Alaska. Get to it.”
“Yes, boss,” Nadire fake saluted to thin air.
She did her best, even as her feet stumbled through the motions and arms ached from having to heft up gifts out of thin air. Each house she’d swipe a few cookies, though Emeric refused to drink any more milk so they’d dumped it down the sink. He’d spin a reminder in the slumbering heads that it wasn’t enough to be nice, one had to be kind. Still, they were struggling, all while her mother kept counting down.
They passed over bustling metropolises, losing an hour even with the magic straining as best it could to assist with duplication. The reindeer stumbled as well, hooves cutting far too low through the clouds while they traveled the backwoods of Canada and up into that last vestige of the US.
“I should have known my mother would leave me Alaska while giving the elves Hawaii,” Nadire grumbled, leaping into the sleigh after finishing with Juneau.
“Sitting by the soothing waves, letting the sun warm my bones…” Emeric sighed as he no doubt pictured a beautiful beach to while days away on. She could almost hear the cry of gulls and the relaxing wash of the surf over their barely clothed bodies.
Both their eyes opened and met at the same time. “When this is over,” Nadire said, swearing to herself she’d finally get that vacation.
He swept up her hand and pressed a hot kiss to it. “There’s no better gift I could ask for.”
“If you two are quite finished daydreaming…” Adalet was quick to remind them they weren’t alone. With a groan, Nadire set off on the last leg of this never-ending tour. All the while she kept an eye on the clock, the three hours drifting to one, then thirty minutes, then finally ten.
“I think that’s it, sweetheart. Pullover somewhere and we’ll bring it out.”
Nadire nodded, aching to tip her head back and close her eyes when a want pierced through her exhausted fog. It burned so brightly, she spun the sleigh around and headed for the furthest tip of the continent. “What are you doing?” Adalet asked.
“I’ve got one more stop,” she said, her eyes brimming with stars and she glanced to Emeric. As they drew closer to a solitary cabin perched amongst the mountains, his quizzical look snapped to instant understanding.
Rather than land, Nadire leapt the last few feet to the ground. The snow rose up to her shins from the plummet, but she had the friendly hand of the Krampus to help her out. “Naddie, the clock’s still ticking. Eight minutes.”
“I know, Mom,” Nadire said. She walked for the front door of the ramshackle cabin as if it was open, her body and Emeric’s passing directly through. Inside was nearly as cold as out, the wood-burning stove on its last ember. The Krampus gazed at the dying fire and snapped his fingers. Flames erupted inside.
Upon the table sat one plate, only one pair of boots rested by the entrance, and there was no room for a tree. Not even a sapling would fit, nearly all the space claimed by the solitary life of a man forgotten by the world. But the owner still took the time to hang a single sock on the wall above the potbelly stove as if he truly believed Father Christmas would arrive.
Reaching not into the sack, but her coat, Nadire’s palm cupped a warm body with fur as white as snow. She pulled the puppy into her arms, its eyes struggling to open as if it’d been in a deep sleep. “Here you go, little one,” she cooed while placing the pup to the ground. It was so young the pointed ears still flopped forward, a thin pink tongue rolling up as it yawned.
“This is your new home,” Nadire said watching the puppy take a deep sniff of its new best friend’s boots. The tail swerved madly, the pup’s body bouncing on all four legs as it began to yap in excitement. “Happy Christmas,” she whispered to the two lonely creatures that made a family.
“One minute, Naddie!” her mother punctured through the gooey haze. Grabbing Emeric’s hand, Nadire stepped forward and windstrode the short distance into the sleigh.
“Fifty-three seconds, fifty-two, fifty-one…”
Before they even sat, Nadire snatched up the reins and ushered the sleigh on. They had to get away from the cozy cabin before breaking the bubble.
“Forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight…”
God, her mother was going to count down every single second. “There,” Emeric called, pointing to a gap in the prickly forest. Nadire clicked her tongue, urging the reindeer to follow his suggestion.
As the sleigh
crested onto a snowy hill surrounded by the march of trees, her mother said, “six, five, four…”
“We’re safe,” Nadire interrupted.
Like releasing a breath held while underwater, all of time resumed its unending march across the world. The silent forest woke, branches rustled in the wind, small animals scurried over the frozen snow.
Nadire leaned back, pride blooming in her stomach. A hand reached out to her and she smiled. They did it. No longer caring about ceremony, she snuggled against Emeric’s chest, her cheek right above the thrum of his soothing heartbeat. He enveloped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her tight to him.
Orange scattered over the horizon, streaks of pinks and yellows caressing the snow. Christmas morning. All across the world children were leaping out of bed to rip open gifts their parents couldn’t explain. The magic was always there, it just needed a little reminder to look for it. Just like hope, kindness, and joy.
“Huh,” Emeric snickered, causing Nadire to glance up at him. His blue eyes gleamed from dawn’s light as he stared out across the world. A grin lifted his lips and he gazed down at her, “I finally get to have a morning with you.”
She smiled at the sentiment and he dipped his lips to hers for a kiss as sweet as sugar plums and sparkling as the stars. Nadire sighed in contentment, her palm curling over his cheek. She wouldn’t let him drift far from her lips, risking another quick kiss as dawn’s light shone over them.
“We should probably head back to the North Pole before we freeze,” Emeric whispered. He’d buried his hands in her coat, Nadire realizing she too was trembling as the glimmer faded with no one around to care about Santa Claus.
Nodding her head against his warm forehead, she moved to slide back. Gripping tighter to the reins, she glanced to him and said, “There’s somewhere I have to stop first.”
He slid his hand over the small of her back and whispered, “I’m right beside you, no matter what.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE CLOCK STRUCK seven as she and Emeric hustled down the hallway. Despite the holiday, people moved through the hospital wards—all of them doing a double take whenever Nadire dashed past. But she didn’t have time to stop, she’d parked on a helicopter pad.
Upon reaching the door, she took in a steadying breath. Fear rattled her heart, her skin prickling at every potential worst outcome. She was tempted to turn and run, to hide in the visitor’s lounge or cafeteria until her mother forced her out. A warm hand curled over the back of hers clinging to the door handle.
It seemed to tell her, ‘You’re not alone’ and ‘The only way through this is forward.’ Gulping, she pushed down on the handle and walked into the room. Drawn curtains dampened the Christmas dawn, leaving only the spark of light from instruments circling the bed and a TV at a whisper over their heads.
Nadire blinked at the change in luminance, struggling to see anyone, when her brother pipped up, “Oh, no. No thank you. We don’t need a Santa Claus right now.”
She spotted Aaron rising out of a chair covered with his coat and scarf. Lifting a hand, Nadire was about to explain in the most childish way possible short of calling him a booger-face, when another voice rasped from the centerpiece of the room.
“Wait,” Nicholas coughed, his drooping eyelids rising. Knowing eyes landed on the woman hidden below the guise of a jolly old elf. “Can’t you see, son?” A smile warmed over his pale lips as he declared, “This is the real Santa Claus.”
“Dad!” Nadire launched forward, shoving past Aaron to wrap her fragile father in her arms. Limp hands patted against her, his weak body struggling to close off the hug.
“So you did it,” he whispered, his heavy head nestled on Nadire’s shoulder. “All in one night.” A sigh rolled up his throat followed by a painful groan and he slumped back to the bed.
“Yep.” Nadire let him fall back, a finger swiping at the tears in her eyes. “I…had a bit of help, too.”
The old man gave a once over to Emeric who’d mercifully lost his Krampus glimmer despite Nadire trapped in it. “So I heard. Your mother.” Nicholas tipped his head to Adalet who pursed her lips.
“How is he?” Nadire gulped at the woman forever in charge.
“Stubborn as a rented mule,” she sighed, shaking her head. Then, a tender hand wrapped with her husband’s, and Adalet said, “The surgery went well, better than they expected. It’ll be a long road to recovery…”
“They took three veins out of my legs,” her father said as if that was the most fascinating conversation piece. “Gonna have a great scar, too. Wanna see?”
“Nick,” a low rumble chuckled from behind them, “there’s no one, including the nurses paid to sponge bathe you, who want to see that.”
Nadire’s head swiveled to find Mirek Hellswarth standing just below the TV screen. While the edge of her eyes caught a dreary weather report, she honed in on the old Krampus rolling his fingers as if an invisible cigarette rested inside. Mirek’s gaze darted up a moment to his son, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval.
“As if you’re one to talk, Mirek. Nurses would scream to the high heavens if they had to shave you,” her father retorted with a surprisingly jovial tone.
Crossing to the bed, Mirek wrung his hand over the metal bars and in a soft voice admitted, “That’s true.”
Silence fell between the two strange families wrapped in a bond of service and faith. While Adalet shifted to give room for Mirek, Nadire and Aaron flanked Emeric almost as if…as if they’d already blended together. A burn inched up her cheeks at the thought, all of the anxiety she’d had wound up into a rubber band ball snapping in half. Her father was alive, stubborn and ornery, but that made her grin more to know his spirit remained.
“…and all of Twitter is atwitter over a surprise performance at the annual Running Of The Santas parade in Las Vegas this Christmas. Here is footage of a sleigh seeming to levitate above the audiences' heads.”
Nadire winced at her pathetic, “Ho Ho Ho” playing out across the world. To her surprise, a pinkie slid against the side of her hand. As she turned her palm, Emeric slipped his fingers in with hers—the pair folding together perfectly.
“…experts believe the projection also included what looks like Bigfoot beside Santa.”
“Bigfoot?” Mirek snarled. “You limp noodled cretins!” He hurled a wad of peppermint candies dug from his pocket at the TV. “Get some culture in your brains before they curdle!”
“Remember when we scared the cassocks off a flock of nuns walking to Vespers that Eve?” Her father chuckled while fishing a single peppermint out of Mirek’s mitts. The wrapper fought against his limp fingers, Adalet sighing but helping him to unwrap it. Nadire doubted he was allowed to each such a thing, but it was hard to control Saint Nicholas.
“Ja ja,” Mirek’s rosy smile turned lascivious as he whistled, “I remember well.”
“There are children present, Hellswarth. Act your age.”
“You first, old man.”
The two old friends turned enemies seemed to have set the clock back, or at least tried to. Maybe the heart attack woke her father to the realization that they weren’t invulnerable. That at any point in time, one of them could fall and life had to be lived. Nicholas rolled his eyes, the candy slobbering in his teeth, and he turned to Nadire. As if it struck him that he’d put his life and his family’s on the line due to stubbornness, his head hung low, guilty eyes darting to anywhere but the daughter he dragged through hell and back.
“Dad?” she whispered, sliding closer.
She could ream him out for hiding his letter to Mirek. For dodging direct questions by the lawyers for why he ever reinstated the Krampus. For refusing to admit that even Santa Claus could crumble when the world turned cold. “How come you never told me about Aaron and the staff?” Nadire asked.
His head snapped up at that, surprise and relief washing over. He didn’t have to explain his fall into depression to the family. But then he took into account
her words and how it stung deep. Traditionalist as he may claim, she always thought her father fair, but for her to be passed over without a second glance after everything she gave.
“Naddie…” He sighed, his arms raising off the bed. Even with bitter tears in her eyes at the shame of not being good enough, Nadire curled up in his fragile hug. “I already lost one child over it,” he whispered in her ear, “it’d kill me to lose another.”
“Then…then you don’t think I can’t…”
“You already did.” Her father smiled, warmth radiating from his repaired heart. “And judging by your mother’s glares I’m guessing I’ll be sitting on the side for the next run.”
Adalet crossed her arms. “To put it mildly.” The glare faded as she stared around at her little family made momentarily whole. “It is Christmas. I should find a feast, no doubt the elves have something prepared.”
“There’s always takeout,” Aaron chimed up, a hand rubbing over his chin.
“You should bring your girls too. Have a proper dinner in a hospital with all the family. Mirek?” Adalet turned to the man who seemed the odd one out. He stopped fussing with an old plant by the window and caught her eye. “I assume you’ll bring the spaetzle.”
“Be my pleasure. Oh, and a plate of vanillekipferl.” He rubbed his hands in anticipation before tipping his head at Aaron. “For the wee ones, of course.”
It was strange to watch her family come together for honest Christmas plans. Most years Nadire and her father slept the day away, no Myra celebrating until it was nearly the twenty-sixth. They almost seemed normal, skipping over the heart attack, the Jewish son of Santa, and the Austrian-German Krampus who was trying to stick a ruten over a cross on the wall.
“What about you, Nadire?” Adalet interrupted. “Wouldn’t be Christmas without Santa?”
“I think I still count,” Nicholas grumbled. “Miss one year and already I’m yesterday’s fish.”
“I’d love to stay, but I have to get the sleigh back to the North,” Nadire jerked her thumb to the door while watching her family’s jaws drop.