The Sleigh Maker

by Candace Sams

  He sat for a moment as she exited the sleigh.

  When he didn’t immediately do as she ordered, she turned when she got to the cabin door. “Are you waiting for an invitation?”

  He held up his hands in resignation, followed her to the door, and waited for instructions.

  “When we go in, stay as quiet as a man of your size can. If anything happens…I’ll handle it.”

  “What can happen?” he blithely asked.

  “Lots of things, Gavin! If you’d read the union book you’d know what I’m talking about. Since you decided you didn’t need to study it…you’ll just have to follow my lead, won’t you?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “Somebody shoot me.”

  “That can be arranged,” she sweetly offered. “Now…follow me.”

  ****

  Pru reached in her left pocket and pulled out the universal key allowing access to any home or building on Earth. She held it up to show it to Gavin. “Even security alarms are silenced by the use of these keys, so it’s imperative that no Elf ever lose the one that each of us has been issued for life.”

  “I’m aware of the keys, Pru.”

  “I’m just making sure…Gavin!”

  Indeed, Gavin was familiar with most of the job Elves did, though not some minor details. He decided not to make a single move without Pru’s approval. Not because he believed anything really serious could happen, but just so she wouldn’t have conniptions once they got back in the sleigh and were heading for their next stop. He could only just imagine the bitching he’d endure if he screwed up.

  Pru opened up her gift bag and handed the sack to her partner. “Here, put these presents under the tree while I keep watch.”

  Gavin did as she ordered, then stood once the uncomplicated task was finished. After he checked the arrangement of gifts under the tree, he turned to see Pru dumping a plate of cookies into the now empty gift sack he’d just tossed behind him. Her odd gesture with the treats was not one of the details he’d ever heard about. “Why are you taking their cookies?” he asked.

  “They were left for Santa. There’s a note beside the plate, along with a glass of milk.”

  Taking a closer look, he saw the note that’d been scrawled by some loving, childish hand. Gavin wondered how many houses they’d visit where just such a similar offering would be found.

  “I have to take the cookies or the children will be disappointed. It’s rule number 42, subsection (b) of the Elves’ Local #101 code,” she explained. “We’ll feed the milk we find to the reindeer. It’ll keep their spirits up while we work.”

  “The reindeer won’t be sorry but we have hundreds of stops. What’ll you do with all those cookies?”

  “We’ll save them for the New Year’s party at the Pole. All the Elves will bring what goodies they’ve collected on Santa’s behalf.”

  He nodded in understanding. “I wondered where all the sweets came from since no one at the Pole has any time to bake right now.”

  She sighed. “Honestly, Gavin, didn’t you even think to ask about something as obvious as the milk and cookies children leave out for Santa? If you’d read the damned book…” she let her words trail away.

  There she goes again. Nothing he did was right. “What’s next?” he asked, trying to get her to move on without another complaint.

  “Take the glass of milk outside. There’s a bowl behind the front seat. Pour the milk into it and see that each of the team gets a sip. Then bring the glass back inside and put it next to the empty cookie plate. I’ll leave an authorized thank you note from Santa. Be quick about it…we don’t have all night.”

  “Why didn’t you just bring the bowl in with you? Seems it would save time if―”

  “Because,” she interrupted, “some houses don’t have a milk and cookie offering for Santa, and it’s an extra object we don’t need to carry inside. If a family should hear a noise and come into the room where we’re working, we have to get out fast. I don’t want to take any chance of leaving an object of ours behind. Sometimes I have to dump the milk down the sink and just run. It’s a simple thing, Gavin, but Elves have to be very careful. First, we have our reputations to think of and dealing with the milk and cookies in a proper, authorized way is very important. Second, I only have so much magic dust and it has to be used wisely. You know it only works for a few minutes,” she caustically reminded him. “I don’t want to leave a gift bag, the deer’s milk bowl, or anything else behind. Not a glove, not a footprint…nothing. That’s part of what makes Christmas magical. People don’t really know if we’ve been in their homes or not. Besides all that and as I’ve already tried to tell you, it’s part of the union rules. This is the way we operate,” she finished. “Now, will you move your butt? At this rate we’ll still be delivering packages through next August.”

  “Damn,” he muttered angrily, then hurried to do as she asked. After he finished the small chore and put the milk bowl back exactly where he found it, he returned to find her double checking everything.

  “Okay, let’s go,” she whispered.

  They left the same way they entered, and Gavin watched her lock the door using the same magic key she’d used to open it. “Don’t suppose you ever go down a chimney?”

  “Not if I can frickin’ well help it,” she blurted. “That’s Santa’s signature entrance, not mine. Besides, union rules forbid it―as you’d know if you’d read the damned book! Only Santa knows how to do chimney entrances and exits properly. Now, let’s go. We’re already behind.”

  Gavin followed her back to the sleigh, took up his position as driver, and gently snapped the reins. The deer took off and Pru navigated him to the next stop―a group of cabins further south. This time, however, all the lights were off. He shook off a sudden feeling of concern. Pru was making him paranoid.

  “Do as we did before,” she instructed. “I’ll take care of any food left for Santa. You put the presents under the tree as quietly as you can. And don’t break anything.”

  Chapter Seven

  For the next several hours, Gavin did exactly as Pru instructed, but he was getting sick and tired of being treated like an idiot every time he asked a simple question or made a move with which she disagreed. When they got back into the sleigh and she directed him to another location some distance away, he looped the reins over the front sleigh peg and turned to her.

  “Can I ask a question without you biting my damned head off?”

  “Depends.” She responded sarcastically while tugging on the bottom of her gloves to tighten them.

  “I don’t remember you being such a broom-wielding harpy. Is it just me or are you like this with everyone?”

  Silence followed.

  “I see. It’s just my special Christmas gift.” He momentarily clenched his fists before quickly picking up the reins and focusing on the lead deer.

  “Don’t worry, Gavin. You can console yourself with some winged strumpet when we get back to the Pole. I’m sure there are plenty of Snow Fairies willing to jump into bed with you. Several at a time…if memory serves and subsequent rumors are correct.”

  “Your memory isn’t as perfect as you think it is, Miss Berry. Besides, why would you care enough to even listen to rumors?”

  She glared at him. “You’re right. I don’t care about any rumors. I don’t care what you do; it’s none of my business. I’ve got my work.”

  “Oh, don’t I know it! Every job that came along was more important than us,” he bitterly expounded. “But back to those damned rumors…did it ever occur to you that whatever you heard might have been grossly exaggerated or even outright wrong?”

  “Oh puuuhlease! You never denied anything. I’d have thought the son of Jack Frost would fight any such slander…deep, quick, hard and often.”

  He stared at her for a moment then turned away. “You’re right. Since I’ve never done it before, I won’t start denying anything now,” he quietly relented.

  For
a time, Pru stared at him. Gavin kept his gaze straight ahead, but she thought she caught a shard of pain in his expression as well as remorse. But that had to be a trick of the starlight. Gavin didn’t care about their relationship or he’d have never cheated on her.

  Pru put her attention back on her job. “There’s a stop ahead…that old farmhouse over there.”

  He reined in the team and landed outside the farmer’s door as silent as a wisp of smoke. Gavin then took the bag she gave him and went through a routine with which he seemed to be becoming familiar. He was almost finished with putting packages under the tree when he looked over his right shoulder.

  Standing at the base of the stairs was a very small child. “Pru…we have company,” he whispered.

  Pru quickly reached for the magic dust in her pouch. When she had the scant amount necessary to put the child back to sleep, Gavin did the unthinkable. She watched, stupefied, as he walked forward and picked the child up.

  “Hey there, sweetheart? What’s your name?” he softly asked.

  “Punkin,” the little girl happily responded, using the name her family did.

  Gavin turned around with the child carefully cradled in his arms. “Isn’t she cute? She can’t be more than three.”

  Pru put a hand over her chest in an attempt to calm her pounding heart. “Gavin, put her down! You have no right talking with someone’s child. She needs to be back upstairs in bed.”

  “She will be in a minute. You’ll do your magic dust thing, she’ll fall asleep, and I’ll carry her upstairs. Right?”

  “Yes, but you need to put her down. What if she makes a sudden move, you drop her and she gets hurt?” Pru frantically muttered and gazed around the room as if some unseen force might cause that terrible happenstance.

  He frowned at her unreasonable response to his loving act. “For crying out loud, I’ve never dropped a kid in my life! Give it a rest, will you?” He ruffled the little girl’s brown curls and smiled at her. “Have you ever seen an Elf, Punkin?”

  “No. Are you Santa?” Punkin asked.

  “No, baby, I’m not Santa. I’m just one of his helpers. I fly a sleigh with real reindeer,” he gently relayed. “Have you ever seen a real live reindeer?”

  Punkin smiled, shook her head, and hugged him.

  Gavin grabbed up several quilts from the back of the living room sofa and wrapped them around the little girl. “Come on, darling. Let’s go see the reindeer while Santa’s Elf finishes putting some pretty packages under the tree. Okay?”

  Punkin nodded excitedly.

  Shocked and temporarily welded to the spot, Pru could only stare as Gavin took the little girl outside, toward the sleigh. Grabbing what was left of her senses, she quickly put the rest of the packages under the tree, then finally heard Punkin giggling as Gavin brought her back into the house.

  “Are you insane?” she asked as he hugged the little girl, rocked her back and forth, and caused her to laugh yet again. “Gavin, she needs to be in her bed. Right now.”

  “All right, all right. Don’t get your tights in a wad. She just wanted to see the deer.”

  Pru reached into the bag containing her magic dust and saw Gavin adamantly shake his head.

  “No. Don’t do that,” he told her. “Punkin will show me which room is hers and we’ll go right upstairs to bed.” He turned and smiled at the little girl. “Won’t we, baby?”

  Pru could only stand there with her mouth gaping. She simply watched in silence as Gavin walked away with the little girl. A thousand possible mishaps entered her mind. What if the child began to cry and woke the entire household? What if he dropped her while going up the stairs and hurt her because she was squirming when the magic dust might have put her to sleep? What would any sane parent think if they found their baby being carried in the middle of the night by a huge, leather-clad stranger with long dark hair; one who was built like a prize fighter and looked like he could be dangerous?

  “He’s frickin’ crazy!” she whispered over and over.

  It seemed like an eternity, but she finally heard his soft, but heavier footsteps coming down the stairs. She rushed forward. “I have to use this.” She held up her palm full of magic dust and would have charged by Gavin, but he shot out his large, calloused hand and gently, but firmly grabbed her by the arm.

  He shook his head in disapproval. “You don’t need that. Come on let’s just leave. She’s already asleep. If you’re through, we can go.”

  Again Pru stood there staring at him while he grabbed up the empty gift bag, replaced the throw rugs he’d previously wrapped around the little girl and went outside. After finally forcing her booted feet to move, she found him sitting on the front seat of the sleigh waiting for her as if nothing unusual had happened. She climbed into the seat next to him, and Gavin urged the team calmly forward.

  “Are you out of your frickin’ mind?” she asked as outrage unseated her intention to remain calm.

  “Why? Just because I wouldn’t let you throw voodoo dust into that little girl’s eyes?”

  “That ‘voodoo dust’, as you call it, will guarantee we get away and that little girl stays put. At least until we’re gone. Do you realize she’ll now remember everything?”

  “So what? She’s three. Who’s gonna believe ‘er?” Gavin argued. “Besides, why don’t you quit relying on magic dust and leave little kids like her something to dream of?”

  “What are you talking about?” Pru asked in an almost anxiety-ridden state over the incident.

  “What I’m talking about is this…there’re enough cynical people in the world who don’t have faith in anything, Pru. Maybe if you Elves quit taking their holiday memories away, a few kids would be a whole lot happier as they turn into adults.”

  Pru gasped in outrage. “You have no right saying something like that. My people have been doing this for hundreds of years. No child has ever, ever come to harm because of what we do. Not ever!” she adamantly defended. “The union rules specifically deal with situations like the one we just encountered. You should have let me handle it. Children shouldn’t see or remember us.”

  “But one may have a wonderful recollection to cling to for the rest of her life instead of a cold, dreamless night of sleep,” Gavin told her. “You and your damned union have turned Yuletide into a conveyor belt. Like everyone else, you’ve tried to stamp a bar code on the season and it’s killing the very spirit of Christmas,” he vehemently claimed. ”There’s no charm or whimsy in it anymore. It’s dying…in some places it’s already dead. Just like our relationship,” he passionately complained while lifting one shoulder. “But what the hell? Maybe you can fire some of that magic dust at me and remove my memories. It’d be a damned sight less painful…empty nonetheless.” He briefly glanced at her. “That would suit you, wouldn’t it?”

  Pru found herself shaken to the core by the entire incident and his words. She fought back tears as the sleigh flew on.

  Chapter Eight

  As the hours went by, Gavin found it more and more difficult to take Pru’s berating and complaining. It hadn’t taken her long to get her voice back. And when she had, she’d put every bit of wrath she could summon into her comments.

  He couldn’t remember her being so grouchy, but maybe this was her idea of payback. Having had enough for the moment, he was about to tell her off even if he had to park the sleigh in some deserted, snowy woods while he did it. But another house came into view. This one was at the edge of a small town.

  “We’ll be doing the entire block. If I had someone with me who had a lick of common sense, I’d have them take one side of the street while I did the other. However, you obviously need supervising,” she boldly nagged.

  He glanced over the seat where the bags of gifts were stored. “Is there’s a cauldron back there someplace? I’d hate to think the loaders left one of your tools out of your bag…along with the spiders, bats, and freshly cut entrails.”

  She glared at him. “That’s quite amusing. If you want to
help…do it. Otherwise sit there and keep quiet. And if I were you, I wouldn’t bring up the subject of evisceration. It’s giving me ideas.” He mumbled a series of very bawdy curses under his breath, but followed her into the first house.

  Although feuding, Gavin was surprised at the amount of work they got done and how effective Pru’s organizational skills were.

  He had to hand it to her. There was something to be said for at least some of her union’s operating rules. They were in the last house when Gavin stood and heard the one sound no stranger likes to hear in the middle of the night. He slowly turned to face the growling, beady-eyed Rottweiler that seemed bound and determined to fight off any intruder…even if the intruders were visitors sent by the good St. Nick himself.

  “Okay…easy boy. You don’t want to really hurt anybody, do you?” he quietly soothed.

  The dog bared its teeth, put its massive round head down, and growled even louder.

  “What’s the matter, Gavin? Can’t sweet talk him?” Pru gushed from behind him.

  “Where’s your magic dust?” he softly asked.

  “What,” she placed one hand over her chest, “use magic dust and spoil his memories of the season? What about all the whimsy he’ll miss? He’ll be bar coded,” she sarcastically finished.

  “Quit screwing around, Prudence…this animal’s got teeth two inches long, and he has to weigh a hundred pounds.” He swallowed hard as the dog growled more fiercely.

  Pru moved forward to stand beside him. “But Gavin, I wouldn’t want to deprive him of his holiday time with you. That would be awful.”

  “You’re cynicism is wearing pretty damned thin. Now, will you do something? Quick?”

  The growling menace stalked slowly forward, never taking its eyes off Gavin for an instant.

  Pru reached inside her pouch, gripped just a bit of the dust in her palm, then lifted her hand and blew the silvery substance toward the animal.

  As soon as the magic dust drifted over the dog’s head, the animal stopped growling. It sneezed a couple of times and then plopped down and went to sleep.