Top Elf

by Caleb Huett

  There was only one big difference this year:

  Celia and I were backstage.

  Celia was pretty sure this was a HUGE PROBLEM.

  “What if they hate me?” Celia panicked to her best friend, me. “What if this is a really bad idea?”

  “You’re just being paranoid,” I told her, and adjusted the collar on her Big Red Suit. “Think about it like another game. We’re making the best move.”

  “This isn’t a game, Ollie. This is Serious Christmas Business.” Celia flapped her hands in the air and took deep breaths.

  Trumpets sounded out on the balcony, and Celia’s eyes widened. “What if I fall asleep at the computer and switch all the naughty and nice kids?” she asked me. “What if my beard gets stuck in a door? What if I put every nice kid on the naughty list AND my beard gets stuck in a door?”

  I looked at her like her noggin was full of eggnog.

  “You probably won’t grow a beard,” I explained. “I don’t think that comes with the job. You’re just nervous because it’s your first speech.”

  “It’s a good idea.” Krampus crossed his arms and frowned at us supportively. “So quit yer whining.”

  Celia and I turned around and looked at all our other friends, all dressed in their Big Red Suits and just as nervous as we were. Buzz and Gadzooks, Kurt and Sally, Bertrand and Krampus, Andrea and Karl, and—I could have sworn there was someone else. I looked around the room and didn’t see anyone, though. Oh well. Klaus had really disappeared, and no one knew where he was.

  We heard the tail end of Santa Claus’s speech. “And now I’m proud to introduce to all of you my successor in just a few years’ time: Santa Pixie!”

  The doors to the balcony opened, and our friends paraded out in front of us and took their positions along the edge of the balcony. Celia and I squeezed hands for support one last time, then I walked out alone, waving, and took my place next to a center podium with steps in front of it so Celia could see out over the top.

  Celia came out of the doors, and the whole North Pole cheered. Even the elves and Clauses who had supported Klaus before knew her plan was what had saved Christmas, so they joined in, too. It was the loudest cheer I’d ever heard, and trust me, I’d heard a lot of Christmas cheers.

  Celia cleared her throat and adjusted the papers with our planned speech on the podium. She wiped some sweat from her brow and glanced down at me. I smiled up at her, which wasn’t new; she’s always been taller.

  “ ‘Santa’ is a name I never even imagined I would have. None of us did.” She swallowed heavily. I tried to project positive vibes by focusing really hard on good, confident things, like unicorns and dragons.

  “My parents, like probably a lot of yours, told me since I was a baby that I could grow up to be anything I wanted. That wasn’t really true, though, until Santa Claus decided to institute the Santa Trials and give us all an opportunity to become something we thought we weren’t born to do.”

  I saw her mom out in the front of the crowd, crying. Her dad was crying, too, and so were both of my parents. Come on, guys, I thought, and then I realized that I was also crying.

  “Santa Matthew Claus has given us the chance to change Christmas for the better. He told us that it would be a tough job, that sometimes it was too much for one person. We knew we’d have to be everything Kris Kringle was: an inventor, a leader, a lover of toys. Kind to everyone. Never made a bad decision. Never got angry. Never had any trouble. Everything worked out perfectly for him his whole life.” She grinned at the crowd. She was finding her groove. “If that sounds impossible, it should. It was. Kris Kringle made mistakes, just like all of us. Mistakes that we’re still learning from today.”

  I glanced over at Krampus, who was scowling out at the audience next to Bertrand. Bertrand patted him on the back, which he had to reach up really high to do. It was adorable.

  “The group of kids—and one old man—that you see onstage today decided that it is too much for one person. Christmas would be over if it weren’t for everybody here. We’d all be moving out of the North Pole if every single person you see hadn’t stepped up to save the day. Because of that, I have a few announcements to make.”

  This was the fun part. I stood up straighter and saw that everyone else was doing the same.

  “After the events of Christmas Eve, the world has a lot of questions. While I am training to be Santa, Andrea Claus will be preparing to become the leader of my new World Relations team …” Celia narrowed her eyes at her paper. I nudged her. “… with help from Maria Duende.”

  Andrea whipped out a sign that said BREAKING NEWS: SANTA PIXIE IS THE GREATEST! The crowd—even Maria Duende—clapped and cheered.

  “For the same reason, more people from the outside world will be trying to find us and visit the North Pole. This could be an amazing opportunity, but it could also put us in danger. That’s why Buzz Brownie and Karl Kobold will take charge of the Secret Helpers and form our new North Pole Defense team.”

  Buzz stepped forward and flexed with Karl standing on his bicep, posing. Two Secret Helpers he had brought with him crouched on either side and made finger guns to complete the picture. The crowd laughed.

  “As some of you know, Bertrand Claus has finally replicated one of Kris Kringle’s original inventions. Because of his breakthrough, and because of Krampus Claus’s unique knowledge and experience with the Quantum Kringle and Kris Kringle himself, the two of them will now work together to head our Research and Development team.”

  Bertrand twirled his bow tie and little fireworks flew from it and into the air, spelling out LET’S DO SOME SCIENCE!!!! Krampus did some lazy jazz hands.

  “Kurt and Sally will become head of The Workshop; Kurt will help us make a plan to keep older kids and teenagers interested in Christmas, and Sally will have final say before me on all toy-related matters.” Sally waved with a few fingers and then used those same fingers to flip the page in her book. Kurt did a riff on an air guitar but real noise blasted out over the crowd. I was surprised enough that I jumped, which the crowd saw and laughed.

  “Gadzooks will remain in charge of birds and will continue to help us understand the things that science can’t explain.”

  Gadzooks threw her top hat out over the crowd and doves streamed out of it, dropping a piece of candy to everyone in the audience, who didn’t cheer because it was butterscotch and butterscotch is so good that they all ate theirs immediately.

  “We also have … a friend … in charge of finance and espionage, but it seems like he might not have been able to make it today—”

  “I’m here!” The boy in the beige sweater waved from the far end of the balcony. “And I’ve been thinking of calling my job ‘spynance.’ ”

  I still don’t know who he is, I thought, or how he got out here without me noticing him, but that is a very good pun.

  “I really appreciate the opportunity,” he continued. “You guys are really just the best friends I could ask for.”

  “Alright, enough of this,” Krampus grumbled. “Kid, what is your name?”

  The boy in the beige sweater blinked. “Uh, it’s … uh …” He grinned and shrugged. “I guess I’ve forgotten! Whoops!”

  Oh my actual gosh.

  “Finally,” Celia continued, “Ollie Gnome will be my Second Santa, and will be in charge of the council made up of all these people to advise me in the decisions I make going forward.” She grinned at me, and I jumped up and down and waved at the crowd. “He will make sure we always keep the spirit of Christmas in our hearts and minds while we make our decisions.”

  Celia pulled me up the stairs of the podium so we could say the last part together. “We have a wish: We wish for a new Christmas. A better Christmas. I hope all of you will support us in making it come true.”

  Celia and I pulled goggles out of our pockets and popped them on. “Now if you’ll excuse us …”

  Right on cue, Crasher led our team of reindeer in pulling our brand-new, built-for-everyb
ody sleigh up in front of the balcony. Celia and I jumped on together, and then the rest of our friends jumped on with us. Even Santa jumped on.

  Celia clicked some buttons. “How’s the engine, Bertrand?”

  “Engine’s good. Quantum Kringle installed and ready for action.”

  “You ready, Little Nine?”

  Crasher snorted. “Ready as we’ll ever be, Cap’n!”

  “Krampus, you put in the coordinates?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Wait, let me get the camera ready.” I turned on a handheld camera and pointed it down at the crowd as we adjusted and flew over them. We waved, and they waved back. “Okay, it’s ready.”

  “WE’LL BE RIGHT BACK, GUYS!” I yelled.

  “We need some tunes!” Kurt exclaimed. He clicked his music box and put on something exciting, with a good build.

  “You want to do the thing?” Santa asked us.

  Celia and I looked at him. “The thing?”

  “Yeah, you know.” He winked. “The thing.”

  “We can?”

  “You can.”

  Celia and I cleared our throats.

  “ON CRASHER! ON ROCKER! ON SLAMMER AND JAMMER! ON SNOOZER! ON TRUTHER! ON TREASON AND SEASON!”

  “AND STARGAZER!” Stargazer yelled. “I WASN’T GOING TO MISS THIS ONE!”

  Then:

  Thanks to my parents (Jason, Connie, Kim) for their incredible support from the babytimes onward. This book exists because a little kid spent too much time on a computer playing games, and you’re the ones who made that possible. In that, I must also thank my huge network of grandparents and aunts and uncles and greats for encouraging me to speak up and believe that my words were worth hearing.

  Andy Carter: Time flies inside a locker. You have been there for me every second for years and I don’t know what I would have done without you. Words absolutely cannot do it justice. Thank you.

  Connor Ratchford sat on our couch and listened to me read the first chapters of this book as soon as I had finished them because I was too excited to contain it. Thanks for laughing at the jokes, and for growing into an adult with me.

  Some people read parts of this book before it was even good. Thanks to Austin Jenkins for asking the right questions, Nick Splendorr for always having a joke ready when I needed one, and Will Walton for being one of the most amazing listeners I’ve ever met.

  Janet and everybody at Avid Bookshop are owed my life for their support and love. I wake up every day because of you guys.

  Thanks to Justin, Travis, and Griffin McElroy for always having a podcast or video when I needed a laugh, a story, or a lovable monster to lead me out of a dark place. Magic is easy, thanks to y’all.

  More thanks to: Alexandra Martin, Aliza Goldstein, my parents again just in case, Team Lunch, Amber Bradshaw, Peter Reitz, Hendershot’s Coffee, and everybody at Scholastic for their incredible energy and kindness.

  Unending gratitude to my editor, David Levithan, for guiding me through this entire process, and being my hero. You taught me so much, and showed me how much more I have to learn. You listened and understood in ways I never expected. You did more than you ever had to, and I will always be thankful for that.

  Oh, and thanks to Saint Nick for being a pretty cool guy.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Caleb Zane Huett

  Illustrations copyright © 2017 by Doug Holgate

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available

  Cover art © 2017 by Doug Holgate

  Cover design by Mary Claire Cruz

  First edition, October 2017

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-05214-5

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.