Rocky, or the Year of
Santa’s Cold:
A Christmas Story
by M. S. Spencer
Rocky
was napping. He was usually napping. Except when he was in his Snow Master
F-130 racing sleigh with ultra high molecular weight polyethylene runners and top-of-the-line
CD player. Which was way too often according to his dad. Of course, Santa was a
bit Old School when it came to sleighs. Actually, he was a bit old school when
it came to everything. Like the reindeer. “I mean, why can’t Chert be in the
lead? He’s the fastest.”
“His
time will come, son.”
Rocky
mumbled in his sleep. The dream he’d been having—flying through Icebreaker Canyon
sideways at a hundred miles per hour—had evolved into one where he was being
bounced around, scratched and bruised by the rock walls. He woke up with a
start. “Wha–?”
“Rocky, Dad
wants to see you.”
“He
does?”
“Don’t
be so surprised.” Sapphire, Rocky’s sister, pulled at his sleeve. “He’s been
coming down with a cold for the last two days. He needs your help.”
“So?
Where’s Feldspar? He should be talking to him. He’s in charge.”
“Feldy’s
down in Anchorage with Beryl. You know she’s been ordered on bed rest and they
decided to be closer to the hospital.”
Rocky
rubbed his eyes. “Okay. I’ll get my coat.”
They
walked out into the snowy lane. Rocky’s house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac.
Twinkling lights led them down the main road to the Claus mansion. On either
side were shop fronts and taverns decorated as always with holly and pine
boughs. As they passed a sign advertising ribbon candy and licorice, the light
in the store suddenly went out. The ground rumbled beneath them. Rocky looked
down the street and when he turned to Sapphire a plume of smoke rose behind
her. “What just happened?”
Elves
poured out of the buildings on either side of what had been the candy store,
now a hole in the ground. “Mica’s shop is gone.”
“Huh?
Was anyone inside?”
“No. It
was closed, thank Santa.”
The
small crowd stood, gazing down. The ground rumbled again and farther down the
street a long low building hit the dust too. “That’s the men’s dorm!” The elves
galloped down the street. Sure enough, a number of scantily clad elves were
shivering in the middle of an empty lot. Rocky grabbed his sister. “Dad will
know what’s going on.”
They
entered the great hall of the mansion. At one end a fire roared in a great stone
fireplace. Before it, wrapped in a fur cloak, in an overstuffed chair, sat
Santa. He held a handkerchief in one hand and a steaming mug in the other. “Dad.”
Santa
held up a grizzled hand. “Hang on.” He sneezed.
Outside
they heard yells and calls for help. “It’s the kitchen!”
Rocky
knelt before the old man. “Dad? Is this your doing?”
“Yes,
it’s me. Hasn’t happened in, oh, eighty years. If I snee—” He held up a hand
again and sneezed. More cries came from outside. “Sneeze, buildings evaporate.
Strangest thing.”
Sapphire
sat on the arm’s chair. “But what’s happening to the buildings? Are they gone
for good?”
Santa
shook his head. “No, it’s only temporary. Lasts at most a day.”
“What
about the elves?”
“They’re
fine. It doesn’t affect them.” He wiped his nose. “But this cold seems to be
getting worse.” He put a hand on Rocky’s arm. “Rocky, you know Feldspar is with
Beryl. I may have to call on you for the Christmas run.” He peered at the young
man. “Do you think you’re ready?”
Rocky
bounced to his feet. “Are you kidding? I’ve been training for the last five
years.”
Santa
huffed. “If you call daredevil stunts in that power sleigh of yours training.
I want you to go take some practice runs with the big sleigh this afternoon.
Christmas Eve is tomorrow.”
Rocky
bounded out of the house and headed toward the barn. His favorite reindeer,
Chert, greeted him with a nuzzle. “Guess what? I’m taking the run tomorrow, and
you’re going to head up the team!” He surveyed the other animals. “In fact,
there’s going to be a new order. I’ve been watching you guys. You, Galena, you
haven’t been pulling your weight. Or rather, you’ve been pulling too much
weight. You can be ballast along with Gneiss. Then Schist and Shale, you’re
next, and—”
The
building shivered. He waited, expecting to be suddenly exposed, but the barn
stayed put. He peeked outside. The greenhouse was gone, the seedlings in their
pots shriveling as he watched. Elves ran to cover the plants with blankets. He
called, “How long do the disappearances last?”
The elf
named Agate replied, “Usually only a few minutes. Sometimes hours. Kitchen’s
still gone. I sent Amber and Ruby over to the gnomes to get carry-out for
lunch.” He coughed. “Damn creatures put way too much MSG in their food. Half
the elves are sick and the other half are hungry an hour later. We’ll use up
our whole month’s food budget at this rate.”
Rocky
left the barn and spent the afternoon test-driving Santa’s sleigh. He wasn’t
worried about managing the big sled. I can drive anything. His
priorities were how to attach his CD player and if he would be able to tap the
cocoa keg without looking up from the air lane.
The next
day he checked in with his father. The old man was in bed. “How’s the village?”
“We lost
the haberdasher and the shoe store, but the kitchen’s back.”
“That’s
good. Are you ready, Rocky?”
The
young man saluted.
“You
haven’t changed the reindeer order, have you? Chert is not ready to take the
lead.”
“But
Dad!”
“Maybe
next year. Godspeed.”
With
Agate’s help, Rocky oiled and rubbed the harness and groomed the reindeer. He
skipped his customary mid-day quaff of pine sap ale, wanting to keep a clear
head for the task at head. As he slipped the traces on each deer, Chert flashed
a hopeful eye at him. “I don’t care what Dad says, you’re ready.” He put his
friend in the lead, and filled in the other spaces.
At
sunset he donned the Santa suit his father had given him on his twenty-first
birthday. “Still fits!” Agate laughed.
“It
should. It’s only been six months.”
He got
in the sleigh and Agate pulled it out into the main square. Rocky thought he
heard a collective gasp, quickly stifled. A trumpet blared and Agate announced,
“Due to the indisposition of our dear Leader, Rockstone Pebble Claus will do
the honors for us.”
No one
said a word. For the first time Rocky wished he hadn’t been such a prankster in
his childhood. Looking out over the sea of upturned noses and pixie ears, he
despaired of finding one face he hadn’t hit with a pie, or dropped a bucket of
water on. Would any of them help if I needed it? He took a deep breath
and shook the reins. “On Chert, on Clay, on Schist and on Shale, on Onyx and
Ebony, on Gneiss and Galena. To the top of the roof, and dash away to”—he checked
his map—“Siberia!”
As the
sleigh rolled past them, the elves managed a weak cheer. Ruby called, “Go get
‘em Rocky. Don’t forget to—” Her words were lost to the sound of slick runners
sliding across the ice. He flew into the night.
After
the first eleven hours Rocky felt pretty good. He’d hit Asia, Australia, and
India, and finished Europe. He was on his way to South America when a snow
squall hit, spinning him around. The compass stuck, but he pulled out the atlas
that served as backup and they muddled north to Canada. Rocky checked his
watch. “Only western Canada and Alaska to go, then home again, home again,
lickety split.” He licked his lips, tasting the congratulatory ale that his
father would surely award him with. “What do you say, boys. Shall we celebrate
with a few triple loops?” Sure, he’d only done them with his little racer
sleigh—equipped for speed and light as a feather. This old clunker would be a
bear to flip. “If anyone can do it, Chert can. Let’s go for it!”
He headed
the reindeer downwards until he found a convection current. As he had practiced
a million times, he flicked his wrist and guided the team into the updraft. The
sleigh was jerked up. He kept the reins tight and the sleigh slowly,
ponderously, made a complete somersault. “Yay! We did it! Now once more, for
the ribbon, guys.”
This
time he had to descend even closer to the ground to catch a thermal wave. The
sleigh was going a great clip and was uncomfortably close to the earth when
Rocky pulled it up. The reindeer climbed, reached the upper atmosphere, and
took off.
Without
Rocky.
As he
floated down to the ground the thought struck him like a blow to the head. That’s
what Ruby was trying to tell me. Don’t forget to buckle up.
When he woke up, he was lying atop a pile of
brush. It must have broken my fall. He tested his limbs. He couldn’t
move his left arm. Must be broken. It was cold. He squinted up through
the trees. The full moon was low to the horizon, but still shed some light. The
only light. He couldn’t see any sign of habitation. He lay back.
He must
have fallen asleep because he woke to something warm and wooly tickling his
nose. He opened his eyes. A vision gazed down at him, concern on her face. Soft
gray eyes shot with silver, above a delicate nose and a heart-shaped mouth. Long,
filmy, white-blonde hair fell over her shoulders. She touched him again. “Are
you all right?”
She
spoke Elvish, but with an unfamiliar accent.
He sat
up. “I think I broke my arm.”
“Oh,
dear. Let me help you up.” Together they stumbled off the pile. She led him to
a small sleigh, a lantern swinging from its post. Four huskies were harnessed to
it. “I’m Pearl.”
“Rocky.”
“Can I
take you home?”
“Depends.
Where are we?”
“My
forest.”
“Your?”
He scratched his head. “But what country am I in?”
“Country?”
The line
of questioning seemed unproductive, so Rocky merely said, “How about we go to
your place.”
She gave
him a funny look. “There’s no where else to go.” She cracked the reins and the
dogs took off at a trot.
A pale
sun shone through the bare trees. After a while they reached a clearing in
which stood a square log house. Gray smoke puffed out of the chimney. Pearl
unhooked the dogs, then helped Rocky out of the sleigh. She led him into the
cabin. It was warm. She lit lanterns, revealing a cozy room. Several wooden
chairs with goose down pillows sat in the middle. A ladder led to a loft. In
the far corner an el projected out, creating a small kitchen, with a wood stove
and an ice box. A fireplace filled one wall, the embers of a raked fire
glowing. Pearl put a few more logs on and blew on the coals, reviving the fire.
She turned to Rocky. “Let’s take a look at that arm.”
She sat
him down and removed his coat. “Scarlet, huh. Unusual color. What did you dye
it with?”
“Dye
it?”
“You
know, willow bark, alder, cranberry? Cranberry makes a pinky-red—not like this
deep color.”
He
shrugged. “No idea. Opal makes all our clothes. She probably uses whatever they
used for Dad’s coat.”
Pearl
stared at him for a minute, then picked up his arm. He winced. “It must be
broken. What were you doing in the tree?”
“Tree? I
wasn’t in a tree.”
“Then
where did you fall from?”
Now,
Rocky had never been out of the North Pole before, but he knew it was supposed
to remain a secret. However, living in the land of the elves, he also had never
had occasion to lie before. What do I say? “I…uh…fell down a bank. I
walked from there until I collapsed where you found me.”
She
seemed to accept that and bustled around the fire boiling water. They ate some
dried meat and old apples and she made him a bed on the couch.
The next
day she was gone, but returned that evening. This happened for a week.
Meanwhile, Rocky’s arm was improving. One night he made her sit. “You haven’t
told me who you are, and why you live out here all alone.”
She
blinked. “I’ve always lived here.”
“But you
must have come from somewhere.”
She
gazed at him, her misty gray eyes filled with tears. “My father. My father
brought me here when I was a baby.”
Rocky took
her hand. It was delicately formed, but
the palm was work-hardened. “He abandoned you?” He thought of his father.
Despite all the trouble he’d given him, his father would never have left him
alone in the wilderness.
“No, no.
I grew up here. He built this cabin. He taught me how to survive in the forest.
He…he died last year.”
“Aren’t
there neighbors nearby? Relatives? Someone you can live with? Surely you don’t
want to be out here without any company?” The elves of North Pole Village were extremely
social; he couldn’t imagine being alone for more than a few hours.
She
bristled. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. My father taught me
how to build a fire, to hunt, to make my clothes from hides, and to plant a
garden. I have plenty to eat and a warm place to sleep. What else do I need?”
“Companionship?
Friends? Family?”
She
turned her back on him. After a minute, she said, “If you need company, there
is a village over the hill. I can take you part of the way, but they will not
speak to me.”
“Why
not?”
She
whirled. “Look at me! I’m…I’m white. They think I’m a ghost! The natives are
very dark—brown and short. They are frightened of me. They leave me alone in my
forest and I leave them alone.” She sat down and put her head in her hands.
“They hate me.”
Rocky
stroked her glistening hair. “Sometimes fear manifests as hate. You’re just
different. Humans—I’ve been told—aren’t comfortable with things that are
different or out of the ordinary. They don’t hate you.”
“Then
why do they throw rocks at me if I get too near? Why do they order me to stay
away?”
“I don’t
know.” Rocky felt his arm. Almost healed. “I will go there and check them out
myself.”
The next
day Pearl took him to the edge of the forest. In the distance he could see blue
ice and black water. On a flat plain by the ocean lay a cluster of huts. He
left her and trudged across the snow toward it. A group of children were
playing by the last house. “Hey mister! You lost?”
He said no,
just here on a visit.
They led
him into the house. A couple were in the kitchen. They looked very much alike.
Shiny black hair, with chestnut brown skin covered in fine wrinkles, and sharp
black eyes. They welcomed him. “Hello stranger, can we offer you some coffee?”
They
took his coat and he sat down. One of them joked, “Look at that red parka. It’s
just like Santa’s.”
Rocky
froze. Would they suspect? “Santa?”
“You
know. Santa Claus. Delivers toys to the girls and boys on Christmas Eve.” The
woman held a finger to her lips. “Shh. The kids still believe.” She
winked. “So, how did you get here? Did your truck break down?”
He
decided the fewer details the better. He told them he was from far away, that
he’d hurt his arm, and that Pearl had helped him recover.
“Pearl?
Who’s that?”
“The
young woman who lives in the forest.”
Both
pushed back their chairs and jumped up. “The ghost? You saw the ghost?”
“She’s
not a ghost, she’s a girl. And she’s lonely. Why won’t you talk to her?”
The man
growled, “She lives by herself—survives the winter all alone. How could anyone
human do that?”
“Her
father taught her how.”
The
woman crossed herself. “Her father—he wasn’t human either.”
“Not
human? You mean, an animal?” Rocky had begun to perspire in the heat. He pulled
his hat off.
The
others gasped. “You too. You’re like him!” The woman pointed at Rocky’s ears.
“I am?
How?”
“Your
ears. They’re pointed. Like his.”
Pearl’s
father was an elf? From the look on his host’s face, he gathered this
wasn’t a good thing. What’s wrong with elves? Elves didn’t have any
problem with humans; why would these people be afraid of them? Then he
remembered. The Secret. They don’t know we exist. No wonder they’re
frightened. He started to explain, then stopped. I’m not supposed to
tell them. I’d better get out of here. He backed away and out the door. It
opened again and his coat was tossed out in the snow. He trudged back to the
edge of the forest.
To his
surprise Pearl was waiting. “I told you.”
“But I
don’t look like you.”
“It’s
your ears. They’re like Daddy’s. Pointed.”
“That’s
because I’m an elf. I’m guessing so was your dad. But why did he leave the
North Pole?”
She
didn’t know. They went back to the cabin.
A few
months went by. Rocky had no idea how to contact the North Pole, but somehow he
didn’t mind. Life was rather pleasant with Pearl. As spring broke through the
ice, shoots and plants appeared that she made into delicious salads. She taught
him how to trap small animals and stew them. They hiked through the forest
during the day and played checkers before the fire at night. Rocky was happy.
Now and then he thought of his old home, but then he remembered how bored he’d
been. He wanted more responsibility, but Feldspar was the eldest. He would
inherit the job of Santa. He’d always felt at loose ends. Here he felt useful.
Spring
turned to summer and that ran into fall. The leaves turned glorious colors. The
bears were fat and the fish plentiful. One day Rocky was snowshoeing through
the woods when he came upon a reindeer. The animal raised its head. Rocky felt
a surge of homesickness and began to approach. The buck stared at him, a glint
of recognition in its brown eyes, but then it took off, crashing through the
woods. Rocky trudged home.
He was
thoughtful all evening. Pearl left him alone. She rarely asked him what he was
thinking or how he felt. He sensed she was afraid he would get angry and leave.
But I don’t want to leave. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t. I should be
missing my family, my friends. Why am I so content?
He’d shrugged
off the questions before. Now, after seeing the reindeer, images of North Pole Village
kept flashing through his brain. The next day was no better. He came in with a
load of wood and found Pearl weeping. “What’s the matter?”
“You’re
not happy. You’re leaving,” she sniffed.
He
dropped the wood and put his arms around her. He wanted to deny it, but for
some reason he couldn’t. “Maybe it is time.”
She
shook him off and ran outside. He waited for her but she didn’t come back.
Finally, as the sun set, he went in search of her. The woods were very quiet; a
light snow fell. He trudged along, now and then calling softly. He climbed up a
bank, hoping for a better view, and almost ran into a reindeer standing on the
summit. He’s the same fellow I saw two days ago. “Hello.”
The
reindeer didn’t move. It didn’t look at him either. Suddenly from above he
heard snorts and whinnies. Hovering in the air was Santa’s sleigh. Feldspar
leaned over the side. “There you are at last, little brother.”
“Feldspar!”
Rocky was overjoyed. “You found me!”
“Well,
Shale found you. He led us here.” Shale butted Rocky, who patted his nose. “Are
you coming?”
Rocky
stared up at the sleigh. “How?”
A ladder
unfolded and landed next to him. He climbed up and into the sleigh. His brother
threw a blanket over him, turned to the reindeer, and flicked the reins. “We’ll
be home in a jiffy.”
It
wasn’t until the lights of North Pole Village twinkled below that Rocky
remembered Pearl. “Oh my God, she’ll think I’m lost!”
In the
general excitement of his return Rocky didn’t have a chance to talk to his
father. It wasn’t until the next day that the old man summoned him.
“I’ve
been getting bits and pieces of your adventures from the elves, but not a full
accounting. Tell me what happened.”
Rock
felt ashamed. “Oh father, I was an idiot.”
Santa
did not contradict him.
Rocky confessed
about the showboating and falling out of the sleigh. He told him about Pearl
and of the natives who were afraid of them.
Santa
asked him to describe Pearl again. He rubbed his beard. “Alabaster skin, you
say? Pearly gray eyes? Tall? What about her ears?”
“Pointed,
like mine.”
“Did she
talk about her mother?”
“She
never knew her. Her father raised her.”
“How old
would you say she was?”
“About
my age.”
“Hmm.
Come with me.” Santa took Rocky to the Hall of Records. In the section filled
with registers of North Pole Village he pulled the volume from Rocky’s birth year. Flipping the
pages, he stopped at one. “This is it.” He laid the book out for Rocky to see.
“Jasper Gold. Banished from North Pole Village, April 24, 2000.”
“Who is
that?”
“Pearl’s
father. Jasper fell in love with a snow maiden—at that time a serious offense.
He was given the option of leaving the village or giving her up. He chose her.”
“But
why? What’s wrong with a snow maiden?”
“At that
time the snow giants were threatening to expose us to the world. Their king was
a bitter man who felt that his people weren’t properly respected. He claimed
the elves were infringing on his territory. Negotiations for peace were at a
very delicate stage and the snow giants insisted there be no contact between giants
and elves. We risked the very existence of Santa Claus if we defied their embargo.”
“So
Pearl’s father left. And you never heard from him again?”
“No,”
said Santa sadly. “Once we’d signed an agreement with the giants we searched
for him, but he had disappeared into the lower world.”
“Pearl
told me her mother died in childbirth.”
“Ah.”
The bell for dinner rang. “You go along.”
In the
days that followed, Rocky tried to settle in, but he couldn’t stop thinking of
Pearl. He was doodling her name on a roll of wrapping paper when his father’s
heavy hand fell on his shoulder. “Son? Want to talk about it?”
Rocky
didn’t know what to say. “I guess I miss my life down there.”
“And
Pearl?”
“Well,
she was part of it all. Learning how to make things from scratch. How to grow
things. Make things. The peace.”
“How did
you feel about her?”
“Her?”
Rocky was puzzled. He scrunched up his nose, trying to explain. “Sometimes when
she came near my chest would tighten up. I’d have trouble breathing. Sometimes
she’d boss me around and I thought it would make me angry, but it didn’t. It’s
like…like—” He appealed to his father. “Like she cared about me.”
The old
man just smiled.
Rocky
continued. “She was pretty too. When the moon shone on her hair she looked like
an angel. And that time we were walking beside the creek and she slipped and
fell in the mud. She was all covered in goo, so I found this deep pool and—” He
hiccupped. The image of a slim, ivory body shimmering as it rose from the
water, of long, straight blonde hair swirling around Pearl’s head, her warm,
smoky eyes seeking him out, stopped him cold. He turned to his father. “She was
my friend, but Dad? Something feels different.”
Santa
laughed. “There’s a name for it, son. You’ll figure it out.”
But Rocky
didn’t, and fell more and more into a funk. What was the matter with him? The
Christmas season was upon them. North Pole Village was in the usual uproar. He
sought out Chert, his favorite reindeer. “I feel just as restless as I did before
I fell out of the sleigh. Something’s missing, Chert. I’m not even hungry.”
Chert
blew in his ear.
It was a
week before Christmas. Feldspar and Beryl had taken their boy Garnet to
Anchorage to see the pediatrician. Rocky, out exercising Chert, saw their
sleigh floating down by the barn. He loped toward it. Feldspar let Beryl and
the baby out, then turned back to help someone else. Rocky stopped short.
“Pearl!”
She
looked both frightened and elated. All the activity around her made her seem
small and young. Rocky ran to her. He stood before her, drinking her in.
“You’ve come.”
She
nodded at Feldspar. “He said I should.” She peeked at Rocky. “I…I wanted to see
you. I missed you.”
“Oh,
Pearl.” He wrapped her in a bear hug.
Santa
came out of the barn. “Have you figured it out?”
Rocky
released Pearl. “What out?”
“The
feeling, silly boy.” Beryl giggled.
Rocky,
bewildered, looked at Pearl. She pushed him gently. “Love, Rocky. It’s love.”
