The Battle for Christmas

by Jeremy Strong

  ‘Need everyfing we can fink of,’ the doll muttered darkly. ‘There’s a war goin’ on out there an’ the rebels are winnin’. Can ’ardly move anywhere wivout bein’ attacked. It’s like they know what we’re gonna do. Like someone’s tellin’ ’em our secrets.’ The commander gave Ellie another searching glance.

  ‘A war? Wow! Cool!’ said Max.

  ‘Is he always like this?’ growled Blondie, and Ellie apologized.

  ‘He’s only six,’ she explained.

  ‘War’s not cool, child,’ bustled Aysha. ‘It’s tough. How do you think I lost my leg?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ murmured Ellie and fell into silence, but Max wanted to know the grim details.

  ‘It was blown off by the Dove,’ growled Blondie.

  ‘What dove?’ Max was curious. He’d never thought doves were dangerous.

  ‘Supposed to be a Dove of Peace,’ snorted Blondie. ‘Hah! Christmas Fairy uses it as a bomber. She’s an evil bit of fruitcake, that one. Aysha was on a mission wiv a couple of penguins an’ the Dove comes down an’ SPLAT! Wipe out – completely splattered. The penguins snuffed it and she lost a leg. Nuffin’ we could do.’

  ‘Urgh!’ went Max.

  ‘It was nasty,’ nodded Aysha.

  ‘But what are you all fighting about?’ asked Ellie, only mildly surprised that she was talking to a plastic doll. She seemed to have grown used to the fact that she’d been shrunk down to the size of a small banana and whisked away to a place she had never dreamed of.

  ‘Escape,’ said Blondie. ‘We’re fightin’ for our freedom, to save Father Christmas and, to put it bluntly, to save bloomin’ Christmas for the ’ole of your bloomin’ world.’

  ‘Wow, coo–’ began Max, as Ellie clamped a hand over his mouth.

  They had left the tanks and were walking across to the small cluster of buildings that Blondie said were their headquarters. Inside there was a lot of talk going on. It stopped as soon as they entered. Everyone turned to stare at the two newcomers. Ellie and Max were once again the centre of attention and found themselves being carefully examined by a curious group of dinosaurs, Marys and Josephs, Father Christmases and all sorts of toys – everyone in fact that hadn’t already met the two children.

  ‘It’s OK,’ explained Blondie. ‘They’re with Aysha an’ me. Christmas Fairy almost got ’em but they talked their way out of it.’ Blondie nodded towards Ellie. ‘She’s the clever one. The other’s just a baby.’

  ‘No, I’m not!’ yelled Max, outraged.

  ‘See what I mean?’ grunted the doll. She turned to Ellie. ‘This is our Operations Room. Got a big battle goin’ on. Fings ’ave been buildin’ up to this for weeks. It’s almost Christmas Day.’

  ‘Tomorrow!’ cheered Max.

  ‘Exactly,’ Aysha continued. ‘Tonight Father Christmas does his rounds. He gets his toys and gifts from this shop and loads his sleigh. For us, it’s our Great Day – the day we escape and are set free into your world. We become the toys of children around the globe. But this year is different. There’s been trouble – a rebellion.’

  ‘The angels?’ asked Ellie, glad that one mystery had been cleared up.

  ‘Said she was clever,’ nodded Blondie, with the briefest of smiles. ‘The angels don’t want to be released. They ’ate Christmas. Loathe it wiv a passion.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Max. ‘Nobody hates Christmas.’

  ‘Think about it, child,’ Aysha went on. ‘What happens to the angels every Christmas? They get stuck on Christmas trees for twelve days and then get put in a dark box to wait for another year. It’s not much fun but that’s their job. At least it is supposed to be their job. Then this year that hag-bag, the Christmas Fairy, decides to put all these smart ideas in their silly heads. She’s a misery she is and about as cheerful as a Christmas turkey.’

  The whole room collapsed into laughter. Aysha eyed them with surprise.

  ‘What did I say? Why is that funny?’ Everyone only laughed louder and Blondie had to wait a couple of minutes before she could take up the story.

  ‘I feel sorry for ’er really, gettin’ stuck on top of the tree in the shop every year, and in that get-up too. It ain’t just yesterday, it’s last century. And ’er make-up! She should do somefing about that eye. Anyways, she’s put this idea into the angels’ ’eads that they can stop Father Christmas from collectin’ us. In fact they want to stop ’im from goin’ on ’is rounds at all.’

  ‘How will they do that?’ asked Ellie. ‘The angels are titchy compared to Father Christmas.’ A silence fell on the room.

  Blondie, grim-faced, looked round at everyone there. ‘We don’t know,’ she said at last. ‘Word is that the angels are workin’ on a Dead Secret Plan but that’s the only info we ’ave. Aysha tried to find out an’ look what ’appened to ’er. Sent in a couple more spies a few days back, a mouse an’ a caterpillar on wheels. Mouse came back wiv ’alf ’er fur missin’. They’d been caught. Caterpillar put up an immense fight but lost most of ’is wheels and ended up on the mincin’ pile. In the confusion Mouse escaped. They were best friends too.’

  ‘Oh,’ murmured Ellie. ‘That is sad.’

  ‘Yeah,’ grunted Blondie. ‘Mouse ’as these awful bald patches now. Wouldn’t put my ’ead out the door wiv patches like that. I’ve tried to cheer ’er up – gave ’er some of my lipstick. It’s not all that new – Merry Cherry it’s called an’ I don’t use it no more, but Mouse wouldn’t know. She’s not very – you know?’

  ‘Into fashion?’ suggested Ellie.

  ‘Exactly, like, she didn’t even notice the new high heels I got last week. Anyhow, fing is, if we don’t know what the Dead Secret Plan is, ’ow can we stop ’em? An’ if we don’t stop ’em we shan’t escape an’ Father Christmas will ’ave no presents to deliver an’ then it’s curtains for Christmas.’

  Max gave his big sister a bewildered glance. ‘Why would anyone want curtains for Christmas?’ he asked.

  Ellie let out a long sigh.

  6 Mince Spies

  ‘We must do something,’ declared Max. His face wore a large, angry frown and his little fists were clenched, ready for action.

  ‘What you gonna do?’ asked Blondie, with enough of a sneer to push Ellie into reminding her that Max was only six.

  ‘And a half,’ Max added quickly. ‘We could take them by surprise. Why don’t we attack them in the middle of the night when they’re asleep and leap on their beds and capture them all and tie them up so they can’t do anything?’

  ‘’Ave you any idea what guards are for?’ Blondie asked scathingly. ‘They ’ave lookouts on duty, twenty-four seven.’

  ‘But we could get the guards first, knock them out and then put them in sacks so they can’t escape.’ Max’s eyes shone with triumph.

  Aysha folded her arms across her chest and gazed down at Max. ‘Little boy, those guards are snowmen. They have powerful brooms and have been trained by ancient Chinese housewives in the martial art of Kleen Sweep. One swipe with a broom and you’re done for.’

  Max felt the glamorous dolls were not being very encouraging. ‘We’re not going to give up, are we, Ellie?’

  Ellie shook her head, moved by Max’s determination. Unfortunately she had no idea what they might be able to achieve. Everything in the Christmas Shop was so different from the world they knew.

  ‘We’ll think of something,’ Max said hotly. ‘Ellie and I will spy on them. We’ll find out what the plan is and anything else useful too.’

  ‘Fine,’ muttered Blondie. ‘By all means go an’ get your arms an’ legs blown off, or torn to bits by angels an’ minced up.’ She stalked off, followed by Aysha, swinging her crutch and dotting the floor as she went. Max and Ellie gazed after them.

  ‘I don’t like them,’ pronounced Max. ‘They just give up.’

  ‘They’ve been fighting this war a lot longer than we have,’ Ellie said. ‘I guess it’s pretty wearing and when you’re tired you get cross and tetchy.’

  ‘Like Mum?’
Max suggested, making Ellie laugh. ‘But we will go and spy on them, won’t we?’

  ‘It’s going to be dangerous.’

  ‘I’m not a baby!’ cried Max.

  ‘Of course not. But we’ve been shrunk. If we were big it would be easy, but we’re titchy. We could easily get hurt.’

  ‘I’m not scared!’ Max declared.

  ‘No, but I am,’ Ellie admitted.

  Max looked hard at his big sister, wondering if she was just pretending. His jaw jutted determinedly. ‘It’ll be OK,’ he announced. ‘And you can hold my hand.’

  Once they had decided to become spies Ellie and Max found themselves being overwhelmed with information. The toys were eager to help and many had advice that they thought would be useful for Max and Ellie to know when they reached enemy territory on the far side of the Empty Room – the big room where they had first landed.

  ‘The angels always attack from the left side,’ one penguin told them.

  ‘Unless they attack from the right,’ said another. ‘I was attacked from the right once.’

  The first penguin immediately faced him. ‘You never have known your left from your right. Hold up your right flipper, go on.’

  The second penguin lifted his right flipper.

  ‘See?’ cried the first penguin triumphantly. ‘That’s your left flipper. Look, this is my left flipper, and you’re holding up a flipper on the same side, so that’s your left one.’

  The second penguin shook his head. ‘No, you’re waving your right flipper at me. I’m holding up my right flipper, so you must be –’

  ‘Come here, both of you,’ ordered Ellie. She made the penguins stand beside each other and hold up their right flippers. She showed them how they were both doing the same thing. The two penguins began giggling and couldn’t stop.

  Dippy delivered his wise advice about different kinds of angels in slow, rumbling tones. ‘The wooden-winged angels have nasty stings but they’re slow. You can knock them out of the sky with your tail.’

  Before Ellie could point out that neither she nor Max had tails the dinosaur gave a short and effective demonstration. He swished his tail high into the air, almost decapitating both the giraffes and sending a very surprised teddy flying right across the room. It came whumping down on a whoopee cushion. SPLRRRRGH! At least it was a soft landing.

  ‘The ones with proper wings are fast,’ Dippy rumbled on. ‘But you can dodge them by zigzagging, I believe. It’s not something I can do, personally speaking. Zigzagging isn’t one of my talents, but smaller creatures can do it.’

  ‘Thank you, Dippy,’ smiled Ellie.

  One of the Three Wise Men, weighed down by his long, wispy beard, tottered up to the children. ‘Lithen carefully,’ he couldn’t help lisping, as tufts of beard got sucked into his mouth and stuck between his teeth as he spoke. ‘Whathever you thoo, thon’t go in thoo the Cupboard Under the Thairth. Thereth a big monthter, a dangerwuth monthter.’

  The two commanders had returned and were listening in. Aysha nodded seriously. ‘Keep away from it. When the cupboard door is shut all is well. But if you open the door the monster comes out and it is truly terrible. It is far more dangerous than the Christmas Fairy and her angels.’

  ‘We’ll keep well clear of that, won’t we, sis?’ declared Max, eyes popping. His imagination had already stuffed the cupboard with a gigantic vampire dragon.

  Ellie nodded, but her thoughts had moved on to another problem – how to avoid being captured. ‘I’ve been thinking. The angels don’t fight each other, do they?’

  There was a loud chorus of surprised ‘no’s.

  ‘Suppose Max and I disguise ourselves as angels? That way we won’t have to sneak about. We can go anywhere we like.’

  Blondie smiled at the others, flashing her perfect white teeth. ‘What did I say? That girl is smart! OK, so she’s come ’ere in ’er jim-jams, wiv no make-up and no ’andbag, but otherwise she is smart.’

  It didn’t take long for the toys to rustle up two pairs of wings. They had been cut out of cardboard and cheerfully decorated by a couple of small penguins with glitter and bits of coloured paper. But there was a still a problem – Max.

  ‘Trouble is, he’s not a girl,’ Blondie said bluntly. ‘All angels are girls.’

  ‘The Angel Gabriel wasn’t a girl,’ Max protested.

  ‘Maybe, but all them angels on Christmas trees are girls, an’ if they’re not girls they certainly look girly because angels ’ave long dresses. You’re in jeans,’ Blondie continued relentlessly. ‘You gotta wear a dress, Max.’

  7 Superhero Max

  ‘I am NOT wearing a dress!’ Max said fiercely. His ears felt as if they were on fire.

  Blondie calmly examined her hair for split ends. ‘Either you wear a dress, or you get torn to shreds by angry angels. Hmm, fink I might change my shampoo.’

  Max turned to Ellie but there was nothing she could do to help. Unfortunately Blondie was right. Ellie tried to comfort her brother. ‘Think how brave you’ll be.’

  ‘It’s not brave to wear a dress,’ growled Max. ‘It’s STUPID!’

  ‘You’ll be saving Christmas for the world,’ Ellie pointed out. ‘You’ll be a hero. Children across the world will think you’re amazing.’

  ‘Children across the world will laugh themselves silly,’ Max predicted.

  ‘Dress or death?’ asked Blondie.

  It was a stark choice. Even Max could see that, and he caved in. ‘Dress,’ he mumbled at last. ‘But it mustn’t have frills or flowers or fiddly bits and everyone has to shut their eyes tight once I’ve got it on so they can’t see how stupid I look.’

  ‘OK,’ smiled Ellie. ‘Let’s see if we can find a dress that fits.’

  They hunted around and to their dismay they couldn’t find one for Max. They were too big, too small or the wrong kind. There were several that suited Ellie, who was soon wearing a long white dress to hide her pyjamas, but Max was a problem. There was no suitable dress for him. He cheered up considerably.

  ‘Bingo!’ Blondie cried. ‘Fink I ’ave just the fing.’ The commander disappeared to her room for a couple of minutes and returned clutching a short white garment.

  ‘It’s my nightie,’ she smirked. Max almost choked on the spot.

  ‘No way! I am NOT wearing a girly nightie! Ellie, please! Tell them! Look at it, Ellie – it’s got feathery fluff stuff all round the bottom. I can’t wear that. I am going to save Christmas for the world. It’s not fair!’

  But there was no alternative. It was the nightie or nothing. Max stamped his feet and said in that case he wasn’t going to be a spy and he didn’t care if Christmas never came again.

  ‘You’re such a fuss-face,’ Blondie told him. ‘We’re fightin’ a war an’ all you can do is worry about wearin’ a nightie. It don’t bother me an’ I wear it every night.’

  ‘But you’re a GIRL!’ Max pointed out. ‘Boys do NOT wear nighties, not even when there’s a war.’

  Ellie gently held Max’s arm and pulled him away to a quiet corner. ‘Max, I know it’s really, really, really hard for you to do this but I need you with me. I can’t do this on my own. None of the others are coming. Only you can help me.’ They looked at each other for a long time, until Max’s eyes began to sting. He rubbed them hard with his fists, walked quickly back to Blondie and grabbed the wretched nightie from her.

  ‘See?’ began the commander. ‘You –’

  ‘Three cheers for Max!’ cried Ellie, quickly drowning out Blondie before she said something that would throw Max back into a strop. Instead, the room erupted with applause, which at least brought a faint smile to Max’s face. He stomped off to a dark corner, angrily removed his jeans and pulled the awful nightie over his head.

  ‘I feel so stupid,’ he mumbled to his sister as he came back out.

  ‘You look like a superhero,’ Ellie told him, suppressing the urge to laugh. ‘And you are a superhero,’ she added.

  ‘An’ you’ve got such cute knees,’ Blond
ie added for good measure as she adjusted his wings. Max glared back at her in silence.

  Aysha checked both of them up and down several times. This was a serious business. It was vital that the enemy camp believed that Max and Ellie were angels. Everyone became quiet. Some of the toys wished the pair luck. They shook hands, paws, flippers and wings.

  Blondie took them to the sliding door. ‘We’ll open it long enough to let you out. After that you’re on your own. Good luck and goodbye.’

  ‘That sounds a bit final,’ Ellie murmured.

  ‘Don’t like goodbyes,’ Blondie said gruffly, still examining them carefully to make sure the angelic details were correct. ‘You’re very brave, the pair of you. Make sure yous come back. Wait a sec, there’s somefing missin’.’ She sucked in her cheeks and studied their faces.

  The blonde commander suddenly nodded. ‘Make-up,’ she declared, opening her silver clutch bag. Max was a deathly white. He stood stunned and speechless. First it was a nightie and now it was eyeliner. It couldn’t get any worse.

  ‘An’ some red on those lovely chubby cheeks,’ smiled Blondie, making a big red circle on each cheek. Max gritted his teeth and counted to ten to stop himself exploding.

  ‘An’ a nice dab of lippy.’ Blondie deftly painted Max’s mouth, while he counted to fifty. ‘Perfect,’ she declared.

  ‘Now you really look angelic,’ Aysha nodded.

  ‘I want to die,’ Max grunted.

  ‘He doesn’t really,’ smiled Ellie, as Blondie began to work on her.

  Max tried to regain his pride by asking if they could take weapons with them. He reckoned a tank would do nicely. At least it would hide the nasty nightie.

  ‘I think the enemy might notice us in a tank,’ laughed Ellie. ‘But Max is right, we should have something.’

  ‘It’ll ’ave to be somefing the real angels might carry,’ said Blondie. ‘Like them long trumpets, but we ain’t got no trumpets.’

  ‘I’ve got my recorder,’ Ellie remembered, tucking it into her belt.