The Elf
written by: RR Fry
It was cold outside, but the warmth of the day had made a blanket of packing snow that covered the tent and everything around it. There were trees about fifty yards away on all sides.
The tent was large, almost house-like with thick insulated walls and ceiling. Inside the beige tent there was a wood burning stove that had a chimney that went through the wall. There was food in a box just outside the tent door which was sealed to keep it from attracting bears, wolves and coyotes.
Deb, as her friends called her, was fifteen and a brown-haired, brown-eyed beauty by most standards. But she thought herself to be too thin and too short to be seriously attractive. Some of the boys and a few of the girls had taken notice of her. But none of that would matter now.
Deb’s parents, Martha and Tom, were both in their mid-thirties. They met in high school and had been together ever since. They loved camping even in the far north where they were now. And, up until now Deb had enjoyed it too. But something was wrong, Martha and Tom had gone to get supplies more than twenty-four hours ago and they said they would be out for a few hours. They took the truck to get supplies from a village about twenty kilometres away.
Deb had snowshoes but the new fallen snow had covered the tracks of the truck, so she wasn’t sure which way to go. Besides twenty k was a long way to go in snowshoes especially when you don’t know where you’re going.
Deb was ok for now as she had enough food for a few more days and plenty to drink. There was lots of wood for the fire, but she was still scared. As well constructed as the tent was, it was still just a tent. Any bear that wanted could easily get through the wall, but Deb was more afraid of what had happened to her parents. It was not like them to stay away longer than they said they would be.
Deb found an old wind-up radio, but the signal was weak and all she heard was ‘avalanche.’ Somehow, she just knew that her parents were somehow involved but even then, it never occurred to her that they might have been victims of it.
Martha and Tom had seen the avalanche and stopped to help people dig out and get to safety. As they were helping people into the shelter, a second avalanche buried them both. The people that saw it tried to shovel them out but there was too much snow. Deb didn’t know it, but she was on her own now. Her parents had been disowned and ostracized by both sets of grandparents for marrying too young. Deb had never met any of them so as far as she knew, she would be alone if her parents were gone.
She put another log on the fire in the stove and put a kettle on. She found a pouch of hot chocolate, a bag of Fritos and some chocolate chip cookies. It wasn’t exactly a nutritional brunch, but it was tasty.
As she ate there was a knock at the door of the tent. “Hello?” she heard a voice say. She decided to ignore it and look around the tent for a weapon. She found her dad’s shotgun but had no idea where the shells were.
“If you’re looking for the shells for your gun they are under the cans in the little pantry,” the voice at the door said.
“Ok thanks,” Deb said without thinking. “Wait how do you know where the shells are?” She asked the door without opening it.
“Well, if you let me in and don’t shoot me, I will explain,” the voice said.
The voice was pleasant and young sounding, but Deb still wasn’t sure.
“Look I’ll wait until you’ve loaded the gun before I come in. Just don’t shoot me. What I have to tell you is going to sound weird. But if you wait until I’ve told the whole story before you shoot, it will be very nice of you,” the voice on the other side of the door said.
Deb surmised that if he was going to kill her, he probably could have broken in by now. She pushed hard on the wooden door, but it was frozen shut. She pushed and kicked but it wouldn’t budge. “I can’t get the door open,” she said to the voice.
Suddenly he was beside her and said, “Here let me help you.”
Deb jumped out of fear and crashed hard enough to open the door but dislocated her shoulder in the process.
The boy was short, shorter than she was and a bit pudgy. She realized he wasn’t a threat and couldn’t fight him anyway with one arm. He reached out one of his short arms and grabbed her disabled arm with a surprisingly strong force. He said, “this is going to hurt a bit,” and he pulled her shoulder back into place. It hurt a lot, but it stopped hurting quickly. It was only then she noticed the pointy ears.
“Who and what are you?” Deb asked not sure if she was dreaming or she had died in the night, and this was some form of purgatory.
“My name is Hermon but most call me Hermie and as you may have guessed by now, I am an Elf. A Christmas Elf to be precise.” Hermie said it so matter-of-factly that even he might not believe it.
“Ok, if I am not dead, I think I should lie down, if I am not doing that already. I mean I could be sleeping, and this is a cookie and Frito dream,” Deb said dreamily.
“Yeah, if this is a dream could I do this?” He reached out and pinched her on what he hoped was her arm.
“Excuse me?” Deb said angrily. It wasn’t her arm.
“I am so sorry Debbie, I was trying to pinch your arm to prove that you weren’t dreaming,” Hermie said apologetically.
“It’s alright, no harm done,” Deb said almost laughing. “But how do you know my name and how did you materialize on this side of the door?”
“I told you I am a Christmas elf,” Hermie said flatly.
“OK so do you make toys for millions of children and help Santa deliver them?”
“First, we don’t do that much anymore. Occasionally, if there is a special order for something homemade for a special, deserving child that has no other way of getting what they want, we will make something. So, there aren’t millions, more like hundreds. Most of the time it is making sure that a low-income family has something to put under the tree by mysteriously putting their names in with various social agencies. When that fails, we’ll either buy something or make something,” Hermie explained.
“How is it no one knows you exist? I mean if I saw an Elf shopping, I’d probably remember,” Deb asked.
“Would you?” Hermie asked as he transformed to a human male in his early twenties…thin, good-looking and taller.
“Wow, ok I guess that explains that.”
“We use Christmas magic to keep our community hidden and only reveal ourselves to people in desperate situations,” Hermie explained.
“Which is why you are here?” Deb asked not really wanting an answer.
“Yes, I am sorry, but your parents were killed in the avalanche,” Hermie said as Deb started to cry. “You should be very proud of them. They saved a lot of people…sacrificing themselves to save many others.”
“So why are you here?” Deb asked uncertain if she really wanted to know.
“I am here to offer you a choice,” Hermie said.
“Ok?”
“I can leave you here with no memory of my visit or you can come with me back to the North Pole to live with us. We figure if your parents would sacrifice themselves to save strangers then their daughter is probably someone special too. Not to oversell it but there’s plenty to eat, surprisingly warm given the latitude, and it’s filled with kind, generous people and elves who love helping others,” Hermie offered.
“And if I chose to stay?”
“You’ll be found in a few days and split your time between grandparents. It’ll be tough but eventually you’ll heal…”
“…And live happily ever after?” Deb interrupted.
“Not exactly but you’ll live. If you come to the North Pole…it’s not really at the Pole by the way, it’s actually on Ellesmere Island…you’ll find it’s not always easy since we’re not allowed to help everyone, but it is rewarding.”
“I suppose it’s cold there all the time?” Deb asked.
“Not inside the village, it’s around fifteen to twenty degrees Celsius, most of the time, so it’s comfortable. Outside the village it’s often very cold though.”
“Will I have to stay there forever?”
“No, any time you want to leave, your memory of where you were, will be wiped and you’ll be set free. That being said, time passes differently in the village and most of the people you know now will be long gone when or if you decide to leave.”
“So, if I leave with you, I will never see my friends again?”
Hermie thought about sugar coating the answer but, in the end, he just said, “yes that’s right.”
“But what would I do there?” Deb asked knowing it would likely be a lame answer.
“You’ll be a slave to the elves and abused frequently.”
“Really?”
“No. it might take a while, but we will find something you like to do.”
“Please don’t be offended but I think I’d rather take my chances in this world,” Deb said hoping Hermie would understand.
“I am not offended; it’s been your choice all along. You face an uncertain future no matter what you choose. I am sorry I won’t get to see you grow up, but you must do what’s right for you. In a moment I will raise my arm and you will never know it’s me looking in on you from time to time. Only those with Christmas magic can recognise the elves,” Hermie said sadly.
Hermie raised his arm and just said, “Head west” and when Deb awoke, she was in her bed, alone with a warm fire burning in the stove and a warm cup of hot chocolate in her mug by the bed. She gathered as much as she could, loaded the toboggan and found herself walking west toward town although she had no idea why.
Deb followed the trail into the woods. The snow got deeper as she went further toward the small mountains, and she realized what happened to her parents. Right in front of her was a polar bear and behind her was a pack of ten wolves. The bear moved toward her, and the wolves moved in around her as if to protect her. The wolves snarled at the bear, and he left the trail into the snow filled green woods.
Deb thought the wolves were about to tear her apart, but they just walked with her for a while and gradually they all left except one. Deb remembered something as she looked at the last wolf, “Only those with Christmas magic can recognise the elves.” “OK Hermie you can stop looking like a wolf.”
Shocked and confused Hermie changed from a wolf into his elf form. He snapped his fingers, and they suddenly were in the elf community at the north pole…which was neither that far north nor was there a pole.
-30-
