The werewolves came forward and said “From now onwards, we will follow you like shadow throughout the night”.
“Oh my God!” Jack stammered again. His hands were still trembling uncontrollably, whether from sheer relief or excitement is difficult to tell. He groped for something to instill back his courage. He picked up the pumpkin lantern from his side.
Instantly the dark creatures bowed down to the pumpkin lantern. The ghosts whizzed and glided through the air, raising cries of excitement.
“What is that glowing object, which attracts us just like insects to the flames?” they said “And what is your name young master?”
“Call me Jack!” he replied, swallowing his fear “and this is my pumpkin lantern…I call it Jack-o’-Lantern”.
***
Jack’s ‘pumpkin lantern’ started becoming famous throughout North America and then worldwide like wildfire. The village fortune-teller removed his Mexican ‘sombrero’ hat from his head as a sign of respect, and made a bold prediction “one day, Jack will change the tradition of the entire world”.
The residents of Jack’s Mexican village stopped celebrating the ‘Day of the dead’, their annual event of Ghost worship, and started hanging ‘Jack-o’-lantern’ in front of their homes. They started calling Jack as ‘Jack-o’-Halloween’ and changed the name of their village to ‘Halloween village’ to show their respect to Jack.
True to his ever-adolescent heart, Jack started the tradition of trick-or-treat in his own village, just as a childish prank. The fortune-teller was right again: it soon spread far & wide.
Jack was surprised to meet his childhood best-friend, Barbarossa, one day, quite by accident in the new world. Barbarossa had become an undead human and stopped aging after his twenty-seventh birthday, and had migrated to America. Jack was overjoyed. On Jack’s request, Barbarossa started staying with him. They made a perfect pair, although Barbarossa looked a decade older than Jack and was shorter in height.
* * *
Several decades passed since Jack landed in America. He still looked in his late teens and handsome as ever. Even the natural glaze on his wavy hairs had not faded.
“Eternal youth often comes to someone, who has sold his soul to Devil” Barbarossa explained to Jack one day “Besides, vampires and undead humans often have unnaturally long lifespan-I mean ‘indefinite life span’. They are still prone to accidental death or intentional death, but immune to aging and hence natural death”.
Jack was damn sure he was just an undead human and not a vampire, since he hated the sight and smell of blood. Besides, while combing his hair, he could see his own image in the mirror, which a vampire can’t.
This status quo continued indefinitely until on the thirteenth of a month, on a Friday, when the mirror slipped from Jack’s hand and was shattered into exactly thirteen pieces.
“A terrible omen! It portends disaster!” Barbarossa said “Our peaceful world is going to be shattered very soon”.
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Chapter 5
The Conference
The two ‘Christmas gift-distributors, Mr. Santa Claus of America and ‘comrade’ Ded Moroz of Russia took their reserved seats across the ivory carved round table, while the reserved seat of Father Christmas of England was vacant. They were holding the historic talks at ‘Le Grande’ palace in the sunny, Black Sea resort.
Mr. Santa looked plump and jolly with trimmed white beard. He was wearing red coat and red trousers with white cuffs, black leather belts and boots, and a red pointed fur cap.
Ded Moroz was wearing an aristocratic, blue ‘Czarist’ cap on his head. He was holding a silver staff, which he reclined on the chair. He had excessively long, wavy and thick, white beard, reaching up to his knees and he was dressed in heel-length, blue ‘fur coat’ with gold buttons.
“How distinct both of us look today, wearing our favorite colors!” Mr. Santa opened with a silly comment.
Ded Moroz ignored his remark and said, “You look healthy. Oh, and how is your wife?”
“My wife?” Santa Claus fumbled at this unexpected question “she’s fine”.
“I wish her health” Moroz said, “You have got more in your life than you deserve-a lucky rascal I must say” Ded Moroz offered his compliment with a hearty laughter. “I remember watching both of you dance at the prom; her youth and beauty settin the stage on fire”.
Mr. Santa felt his adrenaline shoot up and giving him a burst of temper. Moroz had an affair with her in the past Ruprecht’s words flashed in his mind Moroz has a deep grudge for losing her hand in marriage another shot of adrenaline pumped into Santa’s bloodstream Moroz wants to make up for the past loss-wants her in his harem. Santa’s thumping heart and his rushing blood had flushed his face red.
Santa Claus pulled the rein on his burst of mad temper. He thought it best to hide his raw feelings and completely ignore Moroz’s pinching and pinpricking remarks. He decided to act ignorant of lied inside Moroz’s heart and focus on this important meet. If Moroz thinks I am completely unaware of his feelings towards my wife, let him stick to his foolish belief. Protesting will make him alert that I have come to know a lot about him. Mr. Santa concluded.
It took several moments for Santa Claus to recompose himself. He forced a smile on his face and decided to face this historic moment.
“First of all, I congratulate you on this historic occasion” Mr. Santa said with a sweetest tone possible “Weihnachtsman has been ousted, and his dream of domination of the ‘Christmas World’ is finally shattered. Now we can divide his German territory among ourselves”.
Ded Moroz rose up from his seat and started rampaging to and fro, making loud thudding noise with his Russian ‘Valenki’ boots. Then he walked towards the table, on which a globe of the world was placed.
He gave the globe a brisk spin and watched it spin rapidly. “Yes, business talks first!” Moroz said, “Regarding division of territory…let’s come directly to the point”.
Ded Moroz paused and then spoke in a louder, clearer and more determined tone “I want exclusive gift distribution rights, over Poland and Romania…and more importantly, I want complete demarcation of Soviet territory and Western Europe, so that there won’t be any encroachment” he grasped the spinning globe with both his hands “and then we can divide the rest of Weihnachtsman’s Germany equally between ourselves”.
Santa Claus was dumbstruck, as if he received a sudden blow without any warning.
Recovering from the initial shock, Mr. Santa said “Is such a demarcation of Soviet territory and Western Europe absolutely essential?”
“Oh hell, Yes!” Ded Moroz replied stubbornly.
“You see…” Mr. Santa stammered “…my intention in calling this conference was to discuss means of peaceful coexistence for both of us-“
“Peaceful coexistence?!” Ded Moroz repeated with a severe frown “Can two tigers coexist peacefully in the same patch of forest? Or can two swords stay happily in the same sheath?”
“Can’t we be friendly?” Santa said.
“Certainly” Ded Moroz shot back “but remember: a strong fence in between makes good neighbors”.
“But nowadays” Santa said “the free market concept-“
“Now listen, dear Santa” Ded Moroz interrupted instantly “I dislike encroachment on our Russian territory. Even at a microscopic level, salesmen and burglars and professionals operate in their well-defined territories. We are talking at a global level. How can you extend your sphere of influence over the entire globe without clashing with the interests of others?” Ded Moroz’s tone conveyed that he was fast losing his temper.
“But it is all about gift distribution” Mr. Santa stammered, “It is about free donations and ‘giving away’. Conflicts is supposed to arise only when the question of ‘taking away’ arises, isn’t it?”
“Hah! Don’t teach me that you are just a generous philanthropist, who goes about distributing gifts without any self-interest. I am in the same busines
s myself and I spend an immense fortune annually, for the same unspoken purpose” Ded Moroz snapped furiously “Doesn’t other ‘gift-distributors’ have the same goals, dreams and great ambitions like you?”
Ded Moroz lowered his tone and said “And besides, may I ask how you accumulated such a vast wealth in the first place, to go on with your show act of distributing gifts?”
Mr. Santa’s face turned pale, and he quickly tried to change the subject “But earlier, the demarcation postponement was almost agreed upon, orally. Poland and Romania which you now demand, were supposed to be regarded as disputed lands”.
“Well, we can draw new boundary lines” Ded Moroz said “After all, the boundaries are not engraved on stone!”
Santa Claus opened his mouth to say something, but failed. He stiffened his voice and said, “At best, all I can do is dropping my own claim, but regard those two as buffer states. It will be a fair compromise, which is in accordance with your idea of a strong fence”.
“But I can’t agree with that status!” Ded Moroz shot back harshly “Poland and Romania are an integral part of Russian territory”.
Ded Moroz poured himself some ‘Russian Vodka’ and finished it off with one gulp. “People in Western Europe have already started believing that Santa Claus is synonymous to their traditional gift distributors like ‘Father Christmas’ and ‘Saint Nicholas’. I strongly object over my identity being replaced by yours”.
A stunning silence followed.
A few moments later, Mr. Santa Claus announced to Ded Moroz in a submissive voice “I shall consider your demand favorably, and of course, very seriously”.
“I hope so!” Ded Moroz announced triumphantly.
“I think that should satisfy you completely, Dear Moroz” Santa said.
Ded Moroz grunted and didn’t reply.
Mr. Santa Claus didn’t appear to be very happy over his own announcement, but didn’t raise any conditions either. He was looking depressed at losing a chunk of territory to his competitor for maintaining peace. He simply turned his face and stared at the golden cage hanging by a long golden chain from the ceiling. He observed the chirping finches and kept quiet.
After these brief conversations, they hotly debated on other pressing matters, like forming a ‘World Association of Christmas Gift-distributors’.
The heated conversations were still going on, when two waiter Elves entered the hall, carrying large golden and silver trays. Both were about three feet high and had long pointed ears and tennis ball sized, protruding eyes. Both were dressed in green uniform with shining service badges above their shirt pockets and pointed fur caps. One of them was very fair skinned, and the other one was pitch black.
They placed the trays on the table. There were cups of ‘Café au Lait’ and ‘Darjeeling tea’, Yorkshire puddings, Madeira cakes, cream-coated mushroom pizzas, salted cashew nuts, Mexican milk cakes, and cold soups.
The light-skinned Elf clapped his hands and uttered “Light!”
Immediately, the lights of the hall became dimmer and Persian candles on silver chandeliers lighted up on its own. The colors of the walls and the themes of the life sized portraits on wall frames started changing. The conference hall started resembling a dining hall.
The duo took a break from their debate joyfully, and grasped their favorite pieces of edibles from the plate. Ded Moroz started munching as if he was in a great hurry (Evidently, the ‘Russian Vodka’ had raised comrade Moroz’s appetite). He was almost gulping off the ‘Okroshka’ from his china bowl.
All of a sudden, the bowl slipped from his hand, fell on the jaded marble floor and was shattered into pieces, spilling the soup.
The Dark Elf looked angrily at the Light Elf and spoke in a commanding tone “Now clear up this mess and mop the floor”.
“How can you command me?” The Light Elf replied, “We both are in the same post. And besides, I have seniority of service”.
The Dark Elf shot back with bloodshot eyes “How dare you argue with me?! You pale skinned, inferior race!” he fumed with anger as he spoke “You ought to have been assigned the job of a cleaner or maybe a sweeper” He demonstrated using an imaginary mop-stick “I wonder who appointed you as a waiter…” He looked at Mr. Santa momentarily, with deep disgust. If you are taking salary, you must offer your service without complaint. Or else, take voluntary retirement, and leave us. We are so sick of you people mixing with us!”
By now, the Light Elf had lost his patience. “Speak not of salary and service to me” his reply gave out his rising temper “you Dark Elves go on mass strikes more frequently in Santa Claus’s workshops”.
Mr. Santa Claus stared at the Dark Elf over his spectacles.
The Dark Elf turned away his face and spoke stubbornly “Our demands are very genuine. And, besides, till completely separate boarding and dining arrangements are made for Light and Dark Elves, we shall continue to go on strike!”
“Oh yeah?!” the light elf shot back “You got to be kidding-“
Mr. Santa gestured the Elves to leave. They complied, but with a deep grudge that their voices were unheard, and their brain-dead master ignored their complaints.
It must have been a great embarrassment for Santa that his servant Elves should quarrel openly and invite Ded Moroz’s suppressed delight. After all, Mr. Santa had taken lots of efforts to organize this conference flawlessly. But, since, now the cat was out of the bag, he decided to discuss matters further.
“I had other matters to discuss with you; dear Moroz” Santa Claus said, “Your propaganda about worker’s rights is spreading unrest among thousands of my worker elves. They are going on strikes, closing down my toy factories, and making lots of impossible demands”.
“I strongly object to this, dear Santa. Their demands are very genuine” Ded Moroz said. He gave a piercing look at Mr. Santa and continued, “They want better pay, less working hours, job security, retirement benefits and so on. It is only this very few things they are demanding. If anything is to be blamed, it is your capitalistic attitude! They whisper on your back ‘Our Santa is growing plump at the expense of our blood and sweat’. Yes that’s what they say”.
Santa Claus quickly hid his embarrassment and tried to defuse the situation “Well, maybe it is the centuries old rivalry between Dark and Light Elves, and has nothing to do with ideological conflict”. He paused for a breath and continued, “It seems we should have another meeting soon. Is my summer residence, in the Korvatunturi Mountain of Lapland, agreeable?”
“No! No! That won’t be possible for me” Ded Moroz responded “I am an old man, and my doctors have advised me, not to undertake long trips. Or else, I would have accepted your proposal and this meeting would have been held in some Mediterranean island instead”.
Ded Moroz poured himself some fruit punch and continued in a complaining tone “You always travel comfortably on your flying reindeer sledge. But my journey on my Troika horse-carriage is quite jerky and tiresome. So I don’t prefer to travel too often, and rather stay in my nice official residence in Veliky Ustyug”.
“Before we part, I have something more to discuss” Santa Claus said “Our ally, ‘Father Christmas’ of England, is unable to be present here due to pressing reasons. However he had asked me to represent him at this meeting. We haven’t yet shared any of our newly gained German territory with him!”
“That’s perfectly okay!” Ded Moroz replied bluntly “Both of us will be left with a larger chunk, if we make two divisions rather than three!”
“But won’t it be unfair to leave out ‘Father Christmas’ empty handed?” Santa Claus said, “After all, he was quiet helpful in ousting Weihnachtsman”.
“You may share some of your territory with your English friend if you wish” Ded Moroz replied playfully in a humorous tone. “But I am not inclined to part with an inch of my territory!” announced in an irate tone.
“Maybe, we can discuss about this in our next meeting” Santa Claus said hopefully.
“What we should rather have on our agenda is ‘Eastern Europe’” Ded Moroz spoke firmly “I must demand a sphere of influence over all children of Eastern Europe”. He finished off his fruit punch and corrected his words with a punch “Actually they are children of Russia”.
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Chapter 6
Devil’s Plans
The minutes of the ‘Santa-Moroz’ conference reached Devil’s global headquarter at Pandemonium within three hours and forty-five minutes.
Devil called a meeting with his chief advisor and secretary, Beelzebub. After some preliminary round of discussions, they came to the point.
“I think we should start exploiting the territorial conflict between Santa Claus and Ded Moroz immediately” Devil suggested.
“Shouldn’t we wait patiently for the opportunity to ripen?”
“Such passive patience suits only a patently bedridden patient!” Devil blurted his favorite tongue twister and growled.
Biting the stub of his black cigar, Devil said, “The door of opportunity is already wide open. By trying to satisfy Ded Moroz’s demands, Mr. Santa Claus has simply flared up his ambitions. Mark my words: Ded Moroz is not only planning to compete with Santa, but dreams of replacing Santa Claus completely from the Christmas arena”.
“What would you like me to do now?” Beelzebub asked.
Devil appeared surprised at this abrupt submissive reaction from his non-budging advisor. Why should his good but partly selfish advisor suddenly turn docile?
“Clapping with one hand isn’t possible; neither is one-sided enmity sustainable for long” Devil said. “Therefore, heavily bribe some close person of Santa Claus to defect to Ded Moroz this time. Instruct him to make no distinction between facts and lies in his confessional disclosure, as long as our purpose is achieved”.
Devil closed his eyes and let out a smoke ring, filling the room with a strong smell of tobacco. “Let that person spill the beans about Mr. Santa’s secret plans and reveal some alarming plots to Ded Moroz. This will surely boost the ‘Santa-Moroz’ rivalry and our own project shall proceed smoothly”.
“Your wish is my command” Beelzebub bowed his head.