Stepping Up

For

SURVEY

What a Character! : Official WDC Contest  (E) Create a memorable character using the given prompt for huge prizes! #1679316 by Writing.Com Support

Santa lay in the oversized hospital bed that Mrs. Claus had set up in the office just beyond the main elven workshop. He contemplated the green and red striped cast encasing his entire leg from toes to hip. “What am I supposed to do now," he asked Fyndor, his head elf.

“About what?” replied the elf unhelpfully.

“About what?” Santa sputtered. “About Christmas! About delivering all the toys, all the presents. You know…Christmas Eve, sleigh, Ho ho ho?”

“Oh, that. Guess we will just have a head start on next year,” said Fyndor, arranging the pillows behind Santa’s back. “You certainly can’t go anywhere. Won’t kill anyone to go a year without presents. Not like the majority don’t have enough stuff anyway and all the kids want is more video games, and you know your rules better than any, so they’ll get those from the parental units since we don’t make them here.”

“What?? You sound like you are suggesting we just blithely skip Christmas this year.”

Fyndor nodded. “Yep, pretty much.”

“We can’t just skip Christmas!”

“Why not? Half the world doesn’t believe in us, the other half doesn’t get it to begin with! Maybe it’d do them some good if Christmas didn’t happen for a year. Maybe some of them, at least, would appreciate it more next year.”

“We CAN’T skip Christmas,” Santa yelled. “I won’t do it! What about Susie’s doll and that other kid. Shoot I always have trouble with his name, Zeke or Zack. Maybe it’s Max. You know, the tall, gangly kid.”

“It’s Max and he’ll survive. Besides, he’s all grown up now and is in the Army. He’s in Hawaii and he’s getting a ton of stuff from his folks.”

“That is NOT the point! If he’s alone, far from home, it is more important than ever!” Santa struggled to get out of bed.

“Now, now, dear.” Mrs. Claus hurried into the room. “You know what the doctor said, dear. You are absolutely not to get out of this bed. You should have known better than to be roller blading with the elves. Pretending to be a hundredth of your age. Will you never actually grow up?”

Santa harrumphed and shook his head. “It’s just a little break and you know I head fast.” He laid a finger aside his nose and waggled it. “Magic, remember?”

“Not this time and you broke it in four places!”

“Still …” Santa mumbled.

“No point in pouting, dear. You just cannot do it this year.” Next to her, Fyndor nodded sagely.

“But, but… Mikey needs his new bike and Sarah really wants that telescope. She’s been so good this year.”

“I know, I know. But, when you think about it, most of the kids’ wishes are for stuff they want. Not what they need to begin with. Perhaps I can go and deliver the needs and the wants will just have to wait.”

“You know you can’t handle the sleigh. Last time, after my little slip down that chimney in East Southwest North Umbria, you tried to work the magic and half the reindeer tried to go to Topeka and the other half were trying to get to Omaha! And where you did end up was in a snowbank! No. I am the only one who can drive the sleigh!”

“Not this year, Boss. Maybe we can put out a message on Facebook that Santa is hurt and that people will just have to manage without you this year.”

“You might have a thought, Fyndor,” Mrs. Claus said. “We could put the list out there and ask people to each pick a name and find what they want on Amazon or something and have the gift delivered to Jaimie or Cindy or Alexis. The tag could still say it was from Santa.”

“They’d never do it,” Santa groused.

“Well, then, they don’t deserve to get something from you, do they? We have an unending supply of paper. It doesn’t matter if the ‘Naughty List’ is a gazillion miles long. But maybe, just maybe the people in the world would rise to the challenge.”

“I doubt it,” Santa shook his head. “But, under the circumstances, it might be worth a try. Think you could handle that for me, Fyndor?”

“I’ll hop right to it, Santa!” Fyndor looked at Mrs. Claus, winked and hurried out the door.


Fyndor sat at the Toyshop computer and watched the screen scrolling far faster than any normal eyes could have possibly read the entries. It was working! He shook his head. Who would have thought that folks would stop bickering over election results, which color mattered, who was moving to another country and the entire world ending and come together like this? No one was considering deleting people who didn’t agree with them. Adult kids and parents weren’t arguing over who was right or more right or ridiculous or braindead. He was, quite frankly, astounded! Disparate people were working together! The Amazon site had actually crashed six times! People were reaching into their wallets, cracking open piggy banks and making sure each kid was going to get something from ‘Santa!’

“Look at this posting from Danny Z. You remember him, guys. Don’t you? He’s the one involved in that riot.” Several elves nodded. “He’s going above and beyond. He just bought seventeen kids bikes! And look at Connie Pendergrast! She’s sending out hundreds of sweaters! Here’s an author sending out bunches of her kid’s books to children all over the planet … and a knitting club in Suburbia is turning out hats and mittens at a record rate!”

Fyndor hit print and ran into Santa’s room trailing a list of completed purchases and delivered gifts. “Santa! It is really working. People are rising to the occasion and letting the best parts of themselves shine! The Good List has never, ever been longer! The Post Office and The United Parcel Company have had to hire hundreds of thousands of people to handle all the deliveries and unemployment is at an all-time low! People are thinking about other people, not just their kids, but everyone’s kids! Even the children are getting involved! Kids are going through their rooms and toy chests for games and toys they’ve outgrown, cleaning them up and donating them to toy banks that are divvying them up! The folks standing in the cold shaking bells have their kettles over-flowing! Food banks are inundated with foodstuffs! Santa, this is astonishing!”

Santa lay in his bed, absently wishing he could scratch the annoying itch just below his kneecap. “They’ve become infected,” he mused.

“Infected? With what?”

“The true Spirit of Christmas. Not reindeer and silly wishes, but the acts of giving, teamwork and being kind. Look at your lists. People’s hearts are over-flowing with goodwill towards their fellow man! Look deep into the world, Fyndor. Look at all the Christmas lights … have you ever seen them shining so brightly?”

Fyndor shook his head, the tassel on his cap jiggling back and forth, “Not in a long time, Boss…hundreds, nay even thousands of years. Who’d have thought a broken leg could lead to this?”


Far below the blustery weather and snows of the North Pole, people were rushing about, wrapping presents and singing. SINGING! Facebook set an all-time record for the greatest number of purely positive posts in a row. People gushed and smiled and felt really good about themselves. Deliveries were made all over the world by camelback, donkeys, outrigger canoes and alpaca trains. Children were eying gaily wrapped packages by doorways, under trees or awaiting them in wooden shoes. People were sharing burdens, inviting lonely people in for dinners and visiting homeless shelters.

Santa lay in his bed going quietly crazy. He really wanted to be getting ready for his yearly trip. The Doctor shook his head. “It’s almost healed, but I’m afraid I cannot allow you to be up and about all night long, let alone sliding down chimneys.”

“Couldn’t I at least go out and watch from above?” he asked plaintively.

“Perhaps. Give it the two more days and we will see. After all the people have done to make Christmas still happen, you should give them their moment, you know.”

“I suppose,” Santa glared at the Doctor.


Christmas Eve saw Santa limping out to his sleigh. Donner huffed and Blitzen whispered to Comet that as long as Mrs. Claus didn’t find out, that maybe they wouldn’t get into trouble. Santa was just about to give the command to send the reindeer on their way when Mrs. Claus arrived in the stable all dressed for the cold.

“Wait for me, dear. I’m coming with you for the ride. Let’s just see how this all worked out.”

Through the night sky, the couple rode in the sleigh. They saw that every house had at least one present awaiting the morning. They flew over the barracks in Hawaii and saw the pizza-pan -sized chocolate chip cookie under the pine branch decorated with a string of lights and a candy cane. It was awaiting the private spending his first Christmas away from home. They saw the warm shawl and the mince pie for the lonely widow as she slept in a rocker near the fireplace. They saw a foster care home with a great big tree surrounded by gifts and a beautifully wrapped present in a shopping cart near a man sleeping in an alleyway. Everywhere the two flew, they saw evidence that Christmas was happening from big cities to lonely outposts to ghetto hovels. They could hear singing as they crossed the skies above churches and mosques. They saw single lit candles in menorahs and saw folks out caroling.

Mrs. Claus kissed Santa’s cheek. “See, it has all worked out. Perhaps we just never gave people enough credit. Maybe now you could think about retiring,” she ended hopefully.

“Never, my dear. The world still needs Santa Claus. The world still needs to be reminded.”


Back at the North Pole, Fyndor sat on his bed, leaning against his pillow. I think I worked harder this Christmas than I ever have, he thought to himself. I’m exhausted. Just as he started to doze off, he saw a sparkle out of the corner of his eye. Sitting at the edge of his desk, near the tiny little Christmas tree, was a small oddly shaped package wrapped in shimmery green paper and tied up with a big, red bow. He could just make out a tag. It read, “To one of Santa’s elves. From Billy G.” Fyndor smiled and couldn’t wait till morning.


Mrs. Claus helped Santa back into their home at the North Pole. He was limping slowly and relying on the cane in his hand to keep him on his feel. “Time to get you off that leg,” Mrs. Claus said as she settled him into his comfy chair by the window. ”I think you still overdid it some.”

“It was worth it though, dear. I am so proud of the humans. They really surprised me and, I think, themselves. Do you think they will hang on to this Spirit or do you think that tomorrow they will go back to business as usual?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to think that they will keep the magic of Christmas with them from now on, but that might be asking too much of them. They are only human, after all.”

“True, true. That is what makes them so challenging, yet, it also makes them pretty darned special too. What is that on the table?”

“It is a present for you, Santa.”

“From you?”

“No, dear. The tag says to you from, ah,” she grinned. “From you.”

“For me? I’ve never gotten a Christmas present before. I don’t get them, I just give them out.” He smiled broadly.

“First time for everything, my dear. Do you want to open it now?”

“No. I will wait for Christmas morning!


2000 words