She picked up one of the empty bottles and sniffed its contents; the bottle had contained almond brandy, now all gone. “Arthur!” she cried in exasperation, “what have you done?!” Still came there no response from Father Christmas. There was nothing for it, Father Christmas would have to be put to bed. A team of elves was summoned; they took arms and legs and pulled with all their might, but Father Christmas did not budge. The Chief Polar Bear was consulted, and he agreed, through various grunts and gestures with his large paws, that given his size, only the polar bears were strong enough to carry Father Christmas to his bed chamber.
So, four polar bears gathered in the kitchen, knocking over pots and pans and plates and glassware as they huddled around the bearded, snoring old man. “Pull!” shouted the Chief Elf, and the bears tugged, and Father Christmas popped out of the armchair, like a cork from a bottle, which given the circumstances, is, I accept, an unfortunate idiom to use. He was carried, one polar bear to each limb, to the bed chamber, where he was laid on the coverlet, still fully dressed. Mother Christmas instructed the polar bears to remove his boots; they did so and departed, processing into the corridor like a short train made up of four snowy white compartments. “Dear Arthur,” Mother Christmas said, as she looked on the slumbering form of her husband, “sleep well. We will think of something so that the children are not disappointed this year.” She turned and left the room, switching off the lamp as she closed the door. Outside, the Chief Elf, and Assistant Under Elf, waited.
The Chief Elf wore an embroidered waistcoat of bright colours, to denote his status, in the pocket of which was a large gold watch on a chain; and an anxious expression, which came and went like a light that blinked slowly on and off. He took out the gold watch and flipped open the cover.
“What will become of us! There isn’t much time,” he said, “Father Christmas was due to depart in a few hours. And there is so much to be done!”
“What remains to be done?” asked Mother Christmas calmly.
“First we have to check that the list of presents is complete, that every good child will receive what he or she has asked for…”
“…while every child that has not been good will not,” added the Assistant Under Elf.
“That’s understood,” said the Chief Elf peevishly.
“I was only explaining for Mother Christmas.”
A bout of finger wagging then broke out between the two elves, who had considered themselves rivals, like a duel fought with stubby little sticks.
“Gentlemen! Gentlemen please!” cried Mother Christmas. “We haven’t the time! What next?” The elves desisted from their altercation.
“Then we have to complete the loading of the sleigh,” said the Chief Elf.
“And confirm the route for this year with air traffic control,” said the Assistant Under Elf.
“And then,” said the Chief Elf, gulping, “find a driver for the sleigh.”
The Chief Elf and the Assistant Under Elf looked mournfully at Mother Christmas; she looked calmly back at them.
“Well,” she said, “we haven’t any time to waste!”
“But…” said the Chief Elf, pulling off his striped cap and clasping it in both hands, “we don’t have a driver Mother Christmas. How are we to deliver the presents to the children?”
Mother Christmas looked from one to the other elf.
“Do either of you know how to drive a sleigh?” she asked. The elves shook their heads vigorously. “I’ll let you into a secret,” she said, and the elves leaned closer to her to hear what she had to say, she paused, “when I was a girl, I taught Father Christmas how to drive a sleigh, on my father’s farm.”
The elves looked flabbergasted, which is to say that they were as astonished as if they had seen one of the polar bears playing a violin, while standing on a rolling barrel, in pursuit of a fish riding a bicycle.
“Do you mean…do you mean to say…that you will teach us how to drive a sleigh?” asked the Chief Elf.
“No!” exclaimed Mother Christmas. “I will drive the sleigh!”
“You, Mother Christmas?”
“Yes, of course! The reindeer know me! Why, I helped Father Christmas select them, and then train them. When I was a girl, I used to drive around my father’s farm, and in winter I drove my father’s sleigh to the local town.”
“That was very brave,” said the Assistant Under Elf.
“That was the way of the country folk. We cannot let the children down; they have looked forward to the visit of Father Christmas for weeks and weeks. I’ve read some of their letters, I know how many have been good, how many deserve to wake up on Christmas Day and discover that the stockings they put out are full of new toys. Now, three things. First, I will go and change into my outdoor clothes, then I will study the route, and finally I need to find an assistant, someone who knows the lists of presents.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said the Chief Elf, “the Assistant Under Elf here has memorised the lists.”
“Good!” said Mother Christmas turning to the Assistant Under Elf. “You are coming with me little elf, go and get your coat!”
Copyright © David Alexander 2023