SEARCH FOR SANTA
Hi, how’re you all doin’? I’m doin’ okay, I guess. I mean, I’m doin’ okay now, but it gotta admit I wasn’t doin’ so hot a few days ago. What? Why? Whaddya mean why? Can’t someone have some issues without everyone suddenly jumping all over him? Just because your life is all hunky dory doesn’t mean you have to start buttin’ in on my business.
Oh, uh, sorry about that. It’s just that things’re goin’ okay now and I don’t wanna jinx it by bringin’ the subject up. But, since we’re talkin’ a little about it now, and nothin’ ain’t happened so far, and it’s Christmas and all, I guess it’d be okay to talk about it just this once. Besides, I gotta admit, I’m dyin’ to tell someone about it.
I mean even now I don’t hardly believe it. It’s kinda like somethin’ outta a dream. Okay, so I’m gonna tell you, but don’t go askin’ if it’s true or did I make it up or nothin’ like that. ‘Cause I’m tellin’ ya, this is the gosh honest truth. Okay, here goes nothin’.
First, I gotta tell you a little bit about myself. The name’s Little Jumbo Twofeet, but you can just call me L.J., which is what everyone else calls me. Oh, now don’t start already. Don’t look at me like that. Little Jumbo is my name. Why’re you laughin’? It’s a perfectly good name for any respectable gnome to have.
What, again with the laughin’? What’s so funny? Oh, you don’t believe I’m a gnome, huh? You think gnomes have high squeaky voices and are shy and timid? Hah, shows how much you know about gnomes. We gnomes have one of the most important jobs you could ever want to have. We help people.
Didn’t know that, huh? I didn’t think so. Lotsa people don’t. Yeah, well here’s somethin’ else ya didn’t know. We also help Santa.
No, we don’t make toys! We ain’t elves. The elves make all the toys, get all the glory, sit on shelves. Yeah I know all about them. Everyone knows all about them. But that’s all they do. Kinda one-dimensional, don’t ya think?
Now, we gnomes are much more important, but we don’t get no publicity like. It’s okay, that’s the way we like it. Ya see, while the elves are busy makin’ toys and bein’ cute, gnomes are busy doin’ everything else.
Whaddya mean, like what? I mean like everything. We take care of Santa’s sleigh, feed the reindeer, polish the tack, and muck out the stalls. Gnomes take care of the grounds around Santa’s magic castle. We plow the driveway and shovel the walk, decorate the trees outside and change the bulbs on Santa’s Christmas displays, and brother, does he have a bunch of displays!
Then, there’s Santa’s magic castle and workshop itself. We make sure everything in Santa’s workshop is workin’ and runnin’ smooth—conveyor belts, workbenches, paint cans, toolkits. We chop wood for the fire for Santa’s fireplace. We cook the meals, wash the dishes, and help Mrs. Claus bake Christmas cookies.
So, like I said, even though the North Pole is one of the happiest places on earth, we’ve still had our share of hardship, just like everybody else. But all them bad times rolled inta one ain’t nothin’ ta compare with what almost happened just a few days ago. It was horrible, and it almost brought Santa, his magic castle, the elves, the gnomes, and the whole kit and caboodle crashin’ down on us. We was that far from hangin’ up an outta business sign. I’m tellin’ ya, it was that close.
It started just a little over a week ago. I was walkin’ down the old mill path, just enjoyin’ a nice winter walk. The mill stream was frozen over, snow was on the ground. It was a real winter wonderland, just like always here at the North Pole. I was just walkin’ along mindin’ my own business, enjoyin’ a little free time, which is real rare this time of year.
So, I’m walkin’ along, when all of a sudden I see some smoke comin’ up from beyond Blitzin’s Ridge—off in the direction of the Ghostly Woods. It wasn’t a homey lookin’ smoke like the white smoke that comes out of a chimney. This smoke was black and dangerous lookin’ and there was a whole lot of it.
Now, you can imagine I got real worried in a hurry. First, smoke is always a bad sign, and second, nothin’ good ever came from the Ghostly Woods. In my granddaddy’s day, when Santa was just startin’ out, there were a lot of bad creatures that was livin’ up here at the North Pole.
Before he could set up shop, Santa had to clear all of them out. He signed an agreement with the gnomes to help. The gnomes beat the creatures back, out of the North Pole and into the Ghostly Woods. They were beaten so bad, that none of them creatures dared show themselves for more than 1,000 years.
What? Huh? Oh, what sorts of creature were they? Oh lots of nasties, I can tell ya. There were bats and wolves, abominable snowmen and trolls. And goblins. Oh, the goblins were the worst. I’d rather meet an abominable snowman than a goblin any day. Luckily, goblins have become few and far between. We don’t hardly ever see any these days. Or at least we didn’t, but I’m gettin’ ahead of myself.
Like I was sayin’, I saw smoke comin’ from the direction of the Ghostly Woods—not a good sign. So I hoofed it over to Santa’s workshop as quick as I could. I had to find the big guy quick, and this time of year, he spends most of his time over at the workshop doin’ quality control, because that’s what ya gotta do when you got elves on the job, sorry to say.
When I got there, though, Santa weren’t nowhere to be found. Nobody’d seen him since he went for a little stroll just before lunch. This was bad. First, Santa had precious little time for a stroll, and second, Santa never, and I mean never, missed a meal. I knew something was terribly wrong.
Quick as anything, I rounded up a few of the lads—Tommy Tingle Crowsfoot, Jingle Jangle Gobsmacker, and Hulu Wahoo Nederlander—for a search party. Quickly, I told ‘em about the smoke I’d seen out Blitzen’s Ridge and they all agreed that somethin’ must be goin’ on in the Wood.
Now you can imagine that we didn’t wanna upset Mrs. Claus by tellin’ her ol’ Santa was missin’. But, we still had to ask her for permission to take the food and tools that we needed for the expedition.
It was here that the elves helped us out. See, elves ain’t much good for anything but makin’ toys. There is one other thing that they’re good at, though, and while it’s usually annoyin’, this time it came in real handy. Of course, I’m talkin’ about makin’ mischief. Elves always like a good joke, especially when it’s at the expense of someone else.
I was able to convince a few of ‘em ta play a joke on a couple of the gnomes that were workin’ in the castle. They poured boilin’ water down the backs of their shirts. Well, that set off a good knockdown, dragout brawl that kept Mrs. Claus busy for the better part of an hour—plenty of time for me and the boys to get what we needed and scram.
Once we were all outfitted okay, we headed on over to the ridge. The smoke was still risin’ as we climbed to the top of the hill and looked out over the Ghostly Woods. It was just like I thought. The smoke was coming from right in the middle of the woods. We knew we had to move quick. There was only a coupla hours of daylight left, and nobody wanted to be stuck in that haunted forest after dark.
It was then that I spotted somethin’ lyin’ in the snow about midway between the ridge and the woods. We all slid and slithered down the backside of the ridge as quick as may be and trotted on over to it. We stood in a circle around it, hardly daring to touch it.
Lying in a circle of churned up snow was a big black boot. Only one person we knew wore a boot like that. I picked it up and checked inside. Size 18 EEE. Sure enough, it was Santa’s boot. Now things was lookin’ black indeed. Santa missin’, one of his boots in the snow, signs of a struggle, and black smoke comin’ from the Ghostly Woods. We didn’t know what was goin’ on, but it sure as heck couldn’t be good.
