Christmas Jack-o'-Lantern

by Subhajit Waugh

  And on top of that, the waiter dark elf that served breakfast at the ‘Black-Sea resort conference’ swore that he had often seen ‘Ded Moroz’ meeting Mrs. Santa secretly at night when Mr. Santa went out for distributing gifts. He disclosed under interrogation that both of them had met secretly the previous night as well. “She must have run away with him,” the elf said, as if his explanation was absolutely essential to crack this impossible puzzle.

  Mr. Santa Claus hung his head in shame and tried helplessly to suppress the whole affair. He cursed his stars for making his old age such a rough journey. People whine about midlife crisis; but his end-life crisis was nothing short of a horrifying roller coaster ride.

  Friends and well-wishers of Mr. Santa Claus tried their best to suppress the news. Mr. Ruprecht, the personal secretary-cum-manager of Santa Claus spread the news that Mr. Santa’s wife had visited her mother on a long duration.

  Of course it was an elaborate lie! Mr. Santa’s mother-in-law was long dead. And what’s more, she and the ‘Santa couple’ hadn’t even spoken for decades till her death. Her face would have been the last thing Mr. Santa might have wished to see. This may not be said with so certainty for Mrs. Santa, but she hadn’t visited her mother even on her deathbed.

  Mr. Ruprecht tried his best to convince people with his lie, and save his master from disgrace. But when he met his close friend Mr. Jingeling, the keeper of the keys to Santa’s workshop, he confided the truth. Ruprecht proudly boasted of his ‘damage control’ technique to save Santa’s reputation. Then Ruprecht shook his head remorsefully and whispered “Oh how shameful! Who expected this from Mrs. Santa; especially at this old age? She made people laugh!”

  Mr. Jingeling shook his head even more vigorously and said, “I too feel like dying of shame!” He gave out a deep and loud sigh like a bull, and strongly denounced this shameful action. But the very next moment, he asked in an excited tone “Since when was this secret love affair going on? Didn’t the fat-headed Santa ever doubt his wife?” Sensing a hot topic for lively gossip, he adjusted the large key ring with all the keys for Santa’s workshop on his wide black belt and occupied his seat firmly. The exciting topic glued him to his seat, or rather, rooted him on the spot.

  ***

  It was finally over. Jack completed six months of rigorous training with flying colors. Jack felt relief and hoped for some well-earned rest. After the graduation ceremony, Krampus called Jack at his office.

  “Congratulations Jack! You have done well” Krampus said with a wicked smile “now you must be dying for the next phase”.

  “For what sir?” Jack said warily, hoping desperately that there won’t be fresh headache.

  “You must have been informed that you have to complete two months of practical training elsewhere, before joining Lord Devil’s service” Krampus said “Any question Jack?”

  “Where shall I be posted?”

  “As part of the ‘foreign study-tour program’ you shall be placed in Iceland, the world capital of the Elves, under the guardianship of ‘Gryla’-the mother of Yule Lads”.

  “Under the ogress ‘Gryla’?” Jack said, recovering from a shock. The picture of ogress ‘Gryla’ happily munching the raw flesh of her own slaughtered husband had flashed in Jack’s mind. Hiding his emotions instantly, Jack continued, “But Sir, I heard that the political situation is very tense there”.

  “Hah! Your service agreement specifically mentioned that you may be placed anywhere for practical training” Krampus said bluntly, “That means your placement may not necessarily be in your native Ireland, but in Iceland as well! And regarding political turmoil...remember Jack…rough sea makes good sailor. And for this specific purpose, we have intentionally selected Iceland”

  “May I request another destination?” Jack said “any other destination”.

  “You think I’ll entertain your request?” Krampus snapped. Without waiting for a reply from Jack, Krampus said, “So, that’s it. That is final”.

  Krampus ticked off Jack’s name in the list, and scribbled something in his goatskin notepad. “Presently, Iceland is ruled jointly by ogres & trolls of ‘Gryla’ and by Lord Devil” Krampus said “Both of them consider it their holy duty to civilize the barbarian elves”.

  How can the cannibalistic, wild ogres civilize the elves, whose civilization is several millennia old? Jack thought that’s a joke-a dirty one.

  Krampus looked sternly at Jack and said, “The elves must be tamed. They must be taught law and order. And your job will be trying to ruthlessly impose Devil’s rule for the prosperity of Elf-land”.

  Law and order will be taught by Devil’s men and the trolls, who know only plundering and killing? Jack thought in disgust.

  Krampus continued, “You’ll have ample opportunity to assess the fragile political scenario, and try some of the diplomacy tricks in Lord Devil’s favor. And you will love your stay at ‘Gryla’s residence’; her hospitality is legendary”.

  Jack shuddered to think of Gryla's hospitality. He felt absolutely nauseating being force-fed this bullshit of lies. He felt hateful and angry with himself for having to keep his mouth tightly shut, and nodding now & then in silent consent.

  “You should not be a mere observer, but try to manipulate and exploit the hostile scenario” Krampus said in a warning tone “the Elves have grown restless and want to attain freedom. But they should get what they deserve" Krampus displayed his middle finger in an offensive manner. "You shall be allowed to make a few public speeches. Tell them that without Devil, there is no hope for Elfland, and all those rumors about the royal scepter-” Krampus paused suddenly.

  Jack felt that Krampus was trying to hide some important dark secret.

  “Your oratory skills and leadership abilities shall be graded based on your convincing power and public impact.” Krampus said “So it’s my advice, and in your best interest to urge the Elves to give up their impractical and fancy idea of an independent state. Convince them to support the triumvirate ruling alliance of ogres and trolls, gnomes and goblins, and Lord Devil”.

  Krampus got up and shook Jack’s hand “Rest assured, Jack. It is really a challenging opportunity”.

  Jack felt offended at Krampus’s hurried manner of saying ‘goodbye’, as if he was trying to get rid of Jack.

  “You shall have insight to some of the inner working of ‘Elf spy network’-one of the best spy networks in the world” Krampus said “Even Lord Devil hasn’t been able to crack their secret ‘orange code’. If you succeed in cracking, then Lord Devil can crush the rebel Elves under his boots. And needless to mention, it will bring glory to my training school and a mighty boost to your own career. Best of luck, Jack! And remember always: ‘rough sea makes a good sailor’”.

  * * *

  The vessel hit the rough sea. A low pressure had formed in the treacherous North Atlantic, near the coast of Iceland, and their ship was heading right into the eye of the cyclone.

  Strong gale turned into a mighty storm and the wooden ship was tossed like a tiny cork in boiling water. For the first time in his long life, Jack saw such huge waves-as high as the mast of the ship! Each gust of wind sprayed icy cold water on the crew.

  The storm raged throughout the day and became even more violent as darkness fell. The captain tried to instill courage among the crew by announcing, “We are reaching the coast. Maybe we are within fifteen or twenty nautical miles”.

  But reaching the coast of Iceland seemed an impossible dream.

  As the ship swayed violently, Jack looked more remorseful than afraid. “Why did I allow Barbarossa to come with me?” he muttered to himself repeatedly.

  The dense fog had made the visibility almost zero. Darkness shrouded the raging ocean like a black cloak.

  A shrill whistle entered Jack’s ears. Moments later, he was hurled headlong on the sofa. The wooden ship had hit a rock, jutting its head above the waves. With a crashing sound, the ship was shattered into pieces.

  Struggling against th
e gigantic waves, Jack somehow managed to remain afloat in the icy chill water. He saw the huge mast of the ship, being tossed about. He gathered all his energy to swim towards the mast.

  But he found to his horror that the mast was drifting away faster. In an instant of lightning flash, Jack saw someone already clinging to the mast, and two other crewmembers clinging to floating wooden debris. But he couldn’t identify the faces.

  Moments later, everything around was again engulfed in total darkness and big drops of torrential rain came lashing against his face.

  Jack realized that his limbs had started to refuse moving anymore. It’s now or never! Jack made a last desperate attempt for the floating mast.

  Jack managed to swim to the floating mast and grasped it. He tied himself to the mast.

  In a lightning flash, he saw Barbarossa and another crewmember, struggling madly towards floating wrecks before losing his consciousness out of exhaustion.

  Back to top

  Chapter 14

  Vagaries of fate

  Many of Santa’s own dissatisfied elf workers got a golden chance. They started spreading the hot news of Mrs. Santa-Moroz affair and her elopement and so on, adding salt and spices. All sorts of rumors, speculations and new theories could be heard with each passing day.

  Rather than dying out over time as Mr. Santa’s well-wishers had hoped, the topic became hotter. Many of the gossiping elves eagerly enquired any passerby or a complete stranger to get the latest update of this must-know development! Needless to mention, the other person also becomes equally anxious to know more. Two plus two makes four. Therefore, despite all suppression efforts by Santa’s trusted men, the news soon spread to all corners of the Christmas world.

  Soon Mr. Santa Claus became a laughing stock in the Christmas world. Even ‘Dominique’, the talking Christmas donkey, laughed and brayed uncontrollably, rolling on the ground and throwing its limbs at the sky. Mr. Santa Claus woke up to the harsh truth that his strategy had failed miserably. He had enough and decided to take action. He sent one of his trusted elves as messenger to Ded Moroz, with a demand to send back Mrs. Santa back immediately.

  The messenger elf returned back, bringing with him not Mr. Santa’s wife, but a human-sized, gnome messenger of Ded Moroz. Then the Santa’s elf left, allowing Mr. Santa to have a private discussion with Moroz’s messenger.

  “Why didn’t Ded Moroz send back my wife?” Mr. Santa demanded angrily.

  “How can he?” Moroz’s messenger replied, “When he doesn’t even know where she is!”

  “I don’t believe that!” Mr. Santa snapped. “I have strong evidence that he has eloped with my wife sinfully”.

  “Of course not!” Moroz’s gnome replied, flapping his long, pointed ears “In fact Ded Moroz was stunned when he heard about this sad event. Moroz said ‘I am too surprised that Mr. Santa can’t even manage his own wife. He may not be able to keep her satisfied at his old age’. Yes that’s exactly what he said”.

  “Shut up!” Mr. Santa shouted. He was mad with anger at what he heard.

  “Mr. Ded Moroz has sent me to express his deep condolence” the gnome messenger said “I have been sent not merely as a messenger, but as his representative as well”.

  “Allow me to offer my personal consolation as well” the gnome continued, without caring about Mr. Santa’s angry face. He lowered his tone and said “Let me give you a valuable, friendly advice, dear Santa”. His tone dropped further to a whisper, and his lips almost touched Mr. Santa’s ear “You can never trust your wife nowadays. The moment you are out of sight, they start deceiving you. She will ditch you at the first opportunity, and run away with someone handsome and younger”.

  Mr. Santa’s anger got rekindled into a roaring flame by those ‘friendly advice’. He felt sure that Moroz had deliberately sent this rascal just to rub pinches of salt and chilly pickles on his wound. Mr. Santa might have shouted with biting scorn “Who is this handsome and young fellow? White bearded Ded Moroz I suppose!” But for some reason known only to him, he kept his mouth tightly shut.

  “You should have kept a sharp eye on her activities, rather than turning a blind eye” the gnome continued “blind faith can really turn you blind”.

  Mr. Santa’s face turned red with shame and anger, just like the color of the nose of his reindeer ‘Rudolph’. “I have never seen my wife with any secret lover” Mr. Santa said. His tone sounded like a desperate attempt to avoid disgrace.

  Moroz’s representative smiled and said, “Do you think she would have met her lover in front of you, to keep you a witness? What a damn fool you are!” Then he took out a betel leaf and put some crushed betel nuts along with some spiced chewing tobacco and put it in his mouth. He chewed it leisurely, closing his eyes and enjoying the aroma. A sweet aroma of the flavored tobacco spread across the room, as saliva drooled out of the gnome’s mouth.

  All of a sudden, the gnome spitted out the tobacco mixed saliva on the marble floor and said “If you can’t control your wife, the society will spit on your face like that”.

  Mr. Santa recoiled with disgust at this absolutely unacceptable behavior. He clenched his fist; stamped his boot on the floor. “I am asking for the last time” Santa Claus shrieked “will Ded Moroz return my wife peacefully or not?”

  “I am awfully sorry” the humanoid gnome said, “you ask for something which is utterly impossible”.

  “Get out!” Mr. Santa screamed “out!”

  As soon as Moroz’s gnome crossed the threshold, Mr. Santa threw his boot at the door. “There! That’s for your rascal master Ded Moroz”. He was shivering with rage. “I’ll never forget this deepest insult, Ded Moroz! Never, as long as I live!” Mr. Santa Claus took a solemn oath.

  ***

  Meanwhile, in Devil’s camp, there was jubilation. Devil offered a handful of gold coins to the dark elf, who swore to Mr. Santa about the secret love affairs of his wife. Then Devil patted Beelzebub’s shoulder and said, “I am proud of you”.

  “And these are the letters which did the trick” Beelzebub displayed the fake love-letters bearing Moroz’s name “I kept copies before having them tucked under Mrs. Santa’s pillow and in her box”.

  “Well done” Devil said and handed him a diamond ring from his own finger.

  * * *

  A week later, Mr. Santa’s wife returned with Mr. Sinterklaas, the cousin of Mr. Santa.

  Mr. Sinterklaas looked worried; fearing his cousin’s suspicion and anger may fall on him. In fact, Mr. Sinterklaas had nothing to do with all these events; it was Mrs. Santa who had paid a surprise visit to his castle in Southern Spain.

  “What a drama you had created here by disappearing without any information!” Mr. Santa burst out at his wife.

  “Is it?” she replied “Now do you understand how I feel when you go out for your nightly pleasures?” she returned back all the anger like a tennis ball right into Mr. Santa’s court.

  “Nightly pleasures?!” Mr. Santa fumed with anger. “For the last time I am telling you; it’s my nightly duties which I perform faithfully”.

  The debate returned back to square one. As the intensity of the quarrel increased, Mr. Sinterklaas felt relieved that things were indeed returning back to normalcy. After all, Mr. Sinterklaas knew the ‘Santa Claus couple’ intimately.

  Mr. Sinterklaas might have been right, if that is how normal husband-wife relation should be. But the relation between Mr. Santa Claus and Ded Moroz was permanently strained by this incident.

  * * *

  Jack felt warm as he opened his eyes. He was lying on the sandy beach under the bright morning sun.

  “Hurray! He has opened his eye,” someone shouted.

  Jack looked around and saw several fishermen. He got up on his feet slowly. He saw his friend Barbarossa sitting near the drying fishing net, and waving gently at him. He saw two of the crew still lying unconscious on the ground.

  “What happened to the other men?” Jack asked the nearest fisherman.

&
nbsp; “Only four of you might have survived. Thank your stars; you have survived such a terrible storm” the fisherman replied, and raised his hands to heaven for a short prayer.

  The other fishermen came close to Jack and asked, “What is your name? Where do you want to go?”

  Jack placed his hand inside his pocket. He realized to his horror that his purse containing Krampus’s letter to Gryla was gone! Devoured by the hungry waves!

  It took several seconds for Jack to recover from the shock. Then he said, “Call me Jack. And that’s my friend Barbarossa. We want to go to the ogress Gryla, among the ravines and caves of the mountains of Iceland”.

  The fisherman stared at each other with horror in their eyes.

  One fisherman broke down, sobbing “Oh my son! My only son!” he wailed “our bread earner!”

  “What’s the matter?” Jack was perplexed “I only said where I wanted to go”.

  The oldest one among them spoke to Jack in a trembling voice “Are you mad?”

  * * *

  After two days of travelling on foot and mountain climbings, Jack, Barbarossa and their guide reached the granite colored track leading up the mountainside.

  “Sorry, I’ll go no further” Jack’s guide said, “You walk along this mountain path, and cross that range. You will reach the valley of trolls and ogres”.

  “Thank you my friend. You are a good guide” Jack said, as he handed two gold coins.

  “I am not taking this money out of greed. I am a mountain guide, not a mountebank” the guide shook his head remorsefully “I am a poor man, with a large family to support. Otherwise I would have never accepted this money to lead you to the mouth of death”.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Jack and Barbarossa were walking through a narrow valley, along a fast flowing stream.

  All of a sudden, raising war cry, a dozen mountain trolls and ogres came rushing down like avalanche along the mountain slope.

  Barbarossa gripped the hilt of his sword in alarm, drawing his sword partly out of the sheath.

  “Don’t!” Jack warned.

  Within moments, the trolls and ogres came directly upon them, encircled them, and snatched their backpacks and weapons. They were eleven in number, and were dressed in fur, and carrying stone maces.