Top Elf

by Caleb Huett

  “I don’t meant to argue, but isn’t that, maybe, a bad idea?” Celia asked. “Everyone will be doing last-minute preparations for that night, and—”

  Santa grinned. “Sure, but it’s dramatic, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  He clapped his hands once. “Great. Then it’s settled. I’ll see you then. I’ve got to go talk to my son.”

  The elves at the door hadn’t even tried to shut the main doors yet, so we walked straight outside. Ramp powered ahead of us and kept walking, not even stopping to say good-bye.

  “What’s up with him?” Celia asked.

  I shrugged. “What’s ever up with him?”

  We turned and looked back at Claus Castle. It felt so big up close. Scary big. I grabbed Celia’s hand and squeezed. She squeezed back. We could handle it. We could win this thing. I thought about the stick man: You’ve got my support.

  My phone buzzed. It was a text message from my Mom.

  Have you seen the news?

  I texted back: No???

  You need to come home. NOW.

  My whole family was crowded around the TV when we got back to my house. Maria Duende had a countdown on NPNN to the unveiling of a “breaking news” story about “Ollie Gnome’s Shocking Secret.”

  I was so sick of countdowns.

  “We’re verifying our information currently, but if our source is telling the truth … Ollie Gnome might not be the elf we all thought he was. More on this story after we get a statement from Santa Claus—tonight at seven on the North Pole Nightly News! Available only on the North Pole News Network.”

  “I don’t think I have a shocking secret. Do I?” I asked.

  Celia shook her head. “No way. I’d know if you had a shocking secret.”

  My mom crossed her arms. “That’s what we thought. Ollie’s an open book. Still, Maria wouldn’t make such a big deal out of this if it wasn’t something real. Everybody at the North Pole is going to be watching this tonight.”

  My dad started cleaning the living room, which he always did when he was nervous. “All we can do is wait until then. No use getting all worked up.” He handed Polly a plate to take to the kitchen, and she stopped on the way to give me a hug.

  “I’m sorry you have a shocking secret.”

  “Me too, Polly.”

  “I made a casserole,” my dad said. “It has jelly beans in it! You’ll feel better after eating.”

  But I didn’t feel better after eating. I felt like I was going to throw up. The timer on the TV just kept ticking down to the “BREAKING NEWS” and the “SHOCKING SECRET.”

  “No matter who wins, no matter what happens on Maria’s show, we’re partners. Deal?” Celia stuck her hand up for me to shake.

  I reached my hand out and shook. “Deal.”

  “It’s coming on!” Mom said.

  When Andrea’s face was the first thing to appear, I knew I was in trouble. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying, and her long hair was messy … but a perfect kind of messy. A lock of bright red kept falling in front of her face, but she acted like she was so emotional she didn’t notice.

  It would have been heartbreaking if it wasn’t all a lie.

  “I hate to do this,” she said. “But I’ve thought about it for a while and I know now I have to talk about it: I lost the Next Top Nutcracker challenge, and was kicked out of the Santa Trials, because Ollie Gnome intentionally sabotaged my Santa suit.”

  No way.

  “That’s a serious accusation.” Maria was making the face she made when she had to look serious but knew she was nailing a really good story. “Can you tell us how?”

  “I don’t know exactly how it works. But he gave me this button and said it was ‘for good luck.’ He was lying; the button electrocuted my suit and froze me completely, right when I was in the most danger.”

  This can’t be happening. Seriously? Again?

  “Hard to believe?” Maria Duende’s face was back on-screen, looking Very Serious. “We thought so, too, until we saw for ourselves.”

  Footage started playing from somebody’s phone camera, which clearly showed me leaving my seat and moving closer to the stage. Andrea was throwing her swords around. I pulled out the remote and very clearly looked from it, to her, and back to it. I pushed the button, and her suit immediately seized up. The swords fell all around her.

  It was only a few seconds of footage because everything happened so fast. Maria made sure to slow it down for clarity. And then slow it down even more. And then play it again. And then zoom in on the remote control and mark it with a red circle, connecting that circle with an arrow to another circle surrounding Andrea falling, like a play-by-play.

  “He didn’t know my choreography.” Andrea’s voice played over the video. “He froze my suit knowing I could get hurt by the swords.” She came back on screen, rubbing tears away from her eyes. “Sorry. This is hard to watch again.”

  “It’s alright.” Maria smiled and handed her a handkerchief. “Take your time.”

  “I kept this, to show you.” She pulled the smiley-face button out of her pocket, the smile smudged by a black mark from the electricity discharge.

  “Andrea, would it surprise you to know that he’s used these buttons in the competition before?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me at all. Nothing would, at this point. Who knows what he’s capable of.”

  “Well, we have more footage to show you.”

  Now it was one of Maria’s floating cameras that flew around during the race. It showed me climb the leg of Goldie’s sleigh and pull the smiley button off my shirt. It showed me shove the button into the crack at the top of the leg, and the electric burst that followed. Goldie’s sleigh tumbled to the ground.

  “This is so stupid!” Celia yelled at the TV. “You thought it was just a regular button! And she gave it to you!”

  But they don’t know that, I thought, and curled up tighter on the couch. I tried to remember if any of my conversations with Andrea had been caught on camera, and couldn’t think of any. There were no cameras in the Stable. There was no camera when she gave me the first button. Maria Duende had just stopped recording her when we talked about the second button.

  “Even later in the race,” Andrea continued, “he tried to completely destroy my sleigh after he had already passed me on the track.”

  A video played of me screaming “Jingle Bells” like a maniac while flinging the growing marbles at her sleigh. I looked furious. Scary.

  When the camera cut back to Andrea, she did a cartoonish shiver. “I’m lucky I didn’t get seriously injured.”

  “Very lucky.” Maria nodded. “We’ve given all this information to Santa and Mrs. Claus. They’re with us now, live from Claus Castle. Hello, Santa?”

  “Hello, Maria.” The camera split to show Santa and Mrs. Claus looking tired and sad at a desk together on one half of the screen, and Maria on the other.

  “How are you two feeling?”

  “We—” Santa choked up and rubbed his eyes.

  I immediately started sobbing. My parents came and wrapped their arms around both my shoulders.

  Mrs. Claus rubbed Santa’s back and finished the sentence. “We’re disappointed. Santa and I truly believed this was a good group of kids. We couldn’t imagine such direct sabotage would be occurring in a competition meant to build a better Christmas.”

  They hate me. I ruined everything.

  “Have you reviewed the evidence?”

  “We have.” Mrs. Claus patted Santa, who put his hands down and addressed the camera.

  “Given that this behavior was not directly covered in the rules, Andrea is still out of the competition. Her suit should have been prepared for anything, even electrical failure.”

  Maria nodded. “That seems fair. And Ollie?”

  Santa took a deep breath and let it out with a long sigh. “Mrs. Claus and I consider his behavior completely against the spirit of both this competition and Christmas.” He paused for a
long moment. “This is hard to say, Maria. I was just this morning welcoming him into my home.”

  “I understand, Santa.” Maria glanced down at the floor and shook her head. “This is difficult for all of us.”

  Santa cleared his throat and looked directly at the camera. At me. I could see the strain, the hurt in his eyes. I did that. I made Santa cry.

  My whole family was dead silent, even Polly. Celia glared at the screen like she was going to burn a hole through it. It felt like a hundred years before Santa finally spoke again, and I wished it really was.

  “Ollie Gnome is disqualified.”

  The next few days were like sludge. I felt like I was sick. I couldn’t leave the house without being swarmed by cameras and reporters from NPNN, but I didn’t want to leave the house anyway.

  I don’t know how many days it was. Maybe it was a whole week. Maybe even two weeks. I would eat food when my dad brought it to me, and talk if Mom asked me to talk. Polly would bring books and make me read to her. I couldn’t bear to think about what everyone was saying about me, so I didn’t think at all.

  Until the doorbell rang.

  “Dad!” I yelled from my room. “The doorbell rang!”

  Nobody answered.

  “Mom??”

  Nothing. The doorbell rang again.

  “Polly?????”

  Still nothing. I guessed they’d gone out for lunch without me. When the doorbell rang a third time, I rolled to the floor. I brought the covers down with me, so I was wrapped up like a caterpillar. I inchwormed my way along the floor to the door of my room and nudged it open with my nose.

  The hallway was wider, so I was able to roll in my bundle all the way down it toward the entryway. When I got to the front door, I lifted my legs up and flicked the lock on the door with my toes. Without waiting for me to even try to open it the rest of the way, Celia burst in and stepped over me, carrying a huge covered tray.

  “Get up!” she said, and kept walking to the kitchen.

  “You left the door open,” I mumbled, but didn’t make any move to fix it.

  “Because you have company!”

  “Company?”

  “That’s what I said!”

  I turned to look at the open door, and Buzz was standing in it with two big boxes of sodas in one arm and a box wrapped in colorful Christmas wrapping paper in the other.

  “Oh, hey, Ollie.” Buzz stepped over me and headed to the kitchen as well. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  “What are you doing in my house?” I responded. He didn’t answer, and suddenly Bertrand was in the doorway. I sat up but didn’t unwrap the covers.

  Bertrand was wearing one of his signature bow ties and smiling real big. “Where do I put these?” he asked, and held up a basket of cupcakes with one hand. “Or this?” He held up a very tiny wrapped box in the other.

  “That depends,” I answered, “on what is even going on right now.”

  “We’re in here, Bertrand!” Celia called from the kitchen.

  “Marvelous.” He squeezed around me and kept walking.

  Sally was in the doorway now, pizza boxes in one hand and a book in the other. She didn’t even look up from the book, just walked past me to the kitchen.

  “Hey, wait, what are you—”

  I stood up and started to follow her.

  “Oh, cool. You’re doing, like, a cocoon thing? That’s cool. Cocoons are pretty deep.” Kurt was in the doorway now with a box of donuts and a wrapped cylinder. “The donuts are actually in this one,” he said, shaking the wrapped box. “I thought it would be funny.”

  “It’s totally funny!” I said, because it was. “But, uh, why did you bring donuts?”

  Kurt laughed and walked to the kitchen. In the doorway now was a wrapped box that Gadzooks rose out of, carrying a tray of poached eggs and an even larger wrapped box.

  “How did you fit that box in that box?” I asked. “How did you fit you in that box?”

  “Oh, hush. This day is for celebration!” She looked me up and down. “You’re hardly dressed for the occasion. We’ll have to fix that.” She bumped into me as she walked toward the kitchen.

  I reached to grab the box from the doorway, but the box was gone. I realized my hands weren’t restricted by the blanket, so I looked down. I was wearing a tuxedo. I touched my hair, and it was washed and gelled. I coughed and felt something stuck in my throat. I coughed a few more times, stuck my hand in my mouth, and drew out a feather. Got me again, Gadzooks.

  No one appeared for a few seconds, so I started to close the door. A wrinkly hand stopped it from shutting and pushed it back open.

  “This is how you treat your guests?” Ramp grumbled. “Slam the door in their faces?”

  “Sorry, Ramp. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He wasn’t carrying anything but started pushing past me anyway. “I heard there was a party. Where’s the grub?”

  “A party???” I said it all surprised, even though I had basically figured that out by now. The door shut this time, and I followed Ramp into the kitchen. “For what?”

  Food was now piled all over the counters in the kitchen. The dining room table had a bunch of wrapped boxes piled high on it.

  “Don’t tell me you forgot!” Celia put her hands on her hips and smirked at me.

  “Forgot what?”

  “It’s December 11th! Exactly two weeks before Christmas!” She grabbed her covered tray and walked to the center of the room. Kurt, who had apparently brought his guitar, strummed a chord.

  Everybody sang, “Happy—”

  “Wait one second!” Kurt interrupted. He plucked at a string and tuned it up a little. “Okay, now.” He played the chord again.

  “Happy birthday to you!” Celia lifted the tall cover off of her tray and revealed a cake decorated like a little North Pole.

  “Happy birthday to you!” Little toy elves lit the candles, and little cars drove around the North Pole streets. Claus Castle lit up and sparkled.

  “Happy birthday, dear Ollie …” A little elf—who looked just like me!!—shot a little tiny firework and waved.

  “Happy birthday to you!”

  “The big one-two! Make a wish!” Celia said.

  I leaned over and blew out the candles. I wished for the same thing I always wished for: I wish for this Christmas to be the Best Christmas Ever … even though that seems unlikely. Especially because that seems unlikely.

  Everybody cheered, and I was very embarrassed. “I can’t believe I forgot my birthday!”

  Before anyone could say anything, something heavy slammed into our back door, rattling the whole house. I glanced around at the other guests, and they all seemed surprised, too. Slowly, I crept over to the back door and grabbed the doorknob. I cracked it open.

  “Happy birthday, Ollie! Sorry we’re late!” It was Crasher, scrambling back to standing. Behind her, Snoozer, Truther, Rocker, Slammer, Jammer, and all three members of Treason 4 the Season were gently landing my empty sleigh on the ground in our backyard.

  “We wanted to make sure we brought her!” Crasher motioned with her nose at H.O.R.S.E. while they unhooked from the sleigh.

  “HAPPY BIRTHHORSE!” H.O.R.S.E. whinnied.

  “Jet fuel can’t melt birthdays,” Truther mumbled as the reindeer walked inside.

  “Thanks, I think?”

  Over the next hour, more and more people rang the doorbell. Luther came, and his jacket shone HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JERK. Chef came and brought his own grill to cook reindeer nuggets for everybody. The stick man and his buddies from the castle door all came. Mom, Dad, and Polly eventually came back, too. It was a huge group, and they were all there to see me!

  “The only people who think you did it are the ones who don’t know you,” Buzz told me. “That’s the kind of thing I would do. But not you.”

  “Still, I’m sorry I let you down, Buzz. You gave up to let us win!”

  “I don’t want to be in charge, doofus.” He flicked my nose and
made me laugh. “Don’t get me wrong: I am very strong and smart and cool. But I didn’t want to win.”

  “And now I can’t.”

  “The way I see it”—Sally crunched on a nacho and didn’t look up from her book, titled How to Talk to People at Parties—“you and Celia have always been a team, right? It doesn’t matter who wins.”

  “That’s what I said!” Celia hugged my shoulders and handed me some fruit punch. “We’re partners.”

  “Dad’s not going to change his mind.” Kurt was setting up Treason’s instruments for an impromptu show. “We tried talking to him, but he’s a pretty stubborn dude.”

  “But now Celia has to win.” Bertrand was hanging out with H.O.R.S.E., who we had disconnected from the sleigh and set on the table. “And she can’t win without you.”

  “TWO HORSES ARE BETTER THAN ONE.”

  “We all present presents to participate in your perfect pal practice parties.” Gadzooks waved at the pile of gifts.

  Bertrand laughed. “She means this is all stuff to help you study.”

  Buzz grinned and posed. “Most of us will be busy preparing for Christmas, but we wanted to help. So we all brought something.”

  “I didn’t.” Ramp crunched on some hard candies. “Because I wasn’t actually invited.”

  Sally held up How to Talk to People at Parties. “Do you need to borrow this, Ramp?”

  Ramp’s eyes glinted. “Cheeky!”

  I loved hearing all my friends laugh. It’s gonna be okay, I thought.

  “You brought two presents each for brothers Mozart and Beethoven. When you arrive at their house, however, there’s a new baby we didn’t know about. What do you do?”