CHAPTER 19
“So what’s it like in the North Pole?” I ask as we stand up.
“Cold,” she says. “Snowy. The snow melts for about two months in July and August, but even then it’s still cold enough that you have to wear a jumper. It’s probably not much different to what you’ve seen in the movies. It’s a big village where all the elves live and work in the factories. Mum, Dad, and I live in the middle of the village. One of the elves is my school tutor and he comes over for three hours every morning, and then the afternoon is free. Sometimes I help Mum or Dad, or I pick up the slack if one of the elves is off sick.”
“And you make toys literally all year?”
“Sometimes we make Christmas decorations too. And there’s a whole department dedicated to making the packaging for Mrs Claus’s Cookies. And since we knew we were coming here for December, Dad and I spent November making all the arrangements and I made those sweets I showed you yesterday and all the tinsel and snow for the grotto. November was a busy month this year.”
“And what do you do on Christmas Eve?”
“As soon as the clock strikes midnight in Australia, which is the time zone furthest ahead of ours, Dad and I load the sleigh up and set off. By the time we get back from that side of the world, it’s midnight here and then by the time we’re done here it’s midnight in America so we go there. We get back to the North Pole just as you’re waking up. Then we have the day off. So you see it’s not all magic, some of it is just pure luck with the time zones. I’m Dad’s navigator. I drive the sleigh. He couldn’t fly it without me.”
I nod. To be honest, I can’t believe I’m having a completely serious conversation about how Santa Claus flies around the world on Christmas Eve. There are so many more questions I want to ask, but I still have no idea if I really believe what Blizzard is saying, so I decide that maybe now is not the time to ask them.
We go back outside and get a stack of chairs each, and start walking back to the main part of the mall.
“It’s okay if you don’t believe me,” Blizzard says. “I guess it is a lot to take in. But I do appreciate that you’re willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“I appreciate that you’re going to help me get rid of Seth and I don’t want to let Anti-Claus spoil Christmas for everyone anymore than you do.”
Santa is in his grotto when we get back, and I see the tree he was telling off is now standing proudly in the corner playing a tinny little tune of Santa Claus Lane.
“Daddy, I told Kaity,” Blizzard says when we go inside the grotto.
And I have to admit there’s a zing in the air. Whether I believe Blizzard or not—and judging by Santa’s smile, if it’s a joke he’s in on it too—but it can’t be denied that there is something special about this man. About both of them.
“Oh good,” he smiles at me. “I suspected she knew anyway. You had guessed, right?”
“Well, I hadn’t guessed that, but I guess I knew there was something different.”
“And you’ve not run screaming for the hills which is always a good sign,” he jokes.
“I love Christmas,” I say. “If you’re really Santa Claus then, um, that’s great.”
Santa smiles a big wide grin.
“So what’s the deal with this Anti-Claus guy then?” I ask.
“Ah yes, I heard you met him the other day.”
I nod. “He wasn’t very nice. And he knew stuff that he really shouldn’t have known. Come to think of it, you do too, don’t you? But it doesn’t feel like a bad thing with you.”
“I do have certain… privileges. You have to keep an eye on things to know how to divvy up the naughty and nice list, but I know you’ve had a hard year, and I know that you still have faith that things will turn out all right in the end. Anti-Claus wasn’t so nice, I take it?”
“He just… Said things he shouldn’t have known. And he said my dad was on the naughty list, which doesn’t make sense at all. He gave me the creeps.”
“I can’t give out information about who is on which list, Kaity,” Santa says.
“It’s okay,” I say. “There’s no way it can be true anyway, he was just making stuff up to get to me. What’s the deal with him anyway?”
Santa sighs. “Sadly he’s nothing more than a disgruntled child. He was a very very naughty boy when he was younger. It seemed to get worse over the years, and one year when he was thirteen-years-old, I decided I had no choice but to put him on the naughty list. I don’t like to do that, you understand. I believe that every child deserves a second chance and that every child should have a present to open on Christmas morning no matter what. But this boy was really pushing things and had been on second chances for nigh on six years by then. I had no choice but to leave him with nothing but a lump of coal in his stocking. I hate to do that, but I thought it might be the jolt he needed to break him out of his harmful ways. Unfortunately it had the exact opposite effect and did nothing but make his behaviour worse. The next year, instead of leaving milk and cookies out for me, he left arsenic and poisoned cake lying about. Since then he’s just hated Christmas. He’s been the complete opposite of everything I stand for. A few years ago, we got word that someone had set up an Anti-Claus grotto in a mall down south and was doing his very best to destroy the Christmas spirit. We’ve been trying to track him. It’s taken a couple of years but we finally pinned him down to here. Now we just have to find a way to stop him.”
“So what kind of things does he do? To ruin Christmas, I mean? How does he do it?”
“We don’t know for sure. We just know that he turns up somewhere and becomes that mall’s Santa, and then somehow things go from bad to worse and he disappears on Christmas Eve, leaving lots of people very not happy for the rest of the festive season.”
“And how do we stop him?” I ask.
“Honestly, we don’t know,” Santa says. “I just figure that being here, seeing what he’s doing, keeping and eye on him, maybe we can stop him before he gets any ideas, or maybe we can help to sort out what he’s done.”
“So does he know who you are?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t imagine so,” Santa says.
“But he knows that Santa is real?”
Santa thinks about this for a moment. “He believed in me as a child,” he says eventually. “I would think that he still does. Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he’s just so hell-bent on spoiling Christmas for everyone that it doesn’t matter to him whether I’m real or not and—oh look, Kaity here’s your dad so we must change the subject. You do know that no one must ever know our little secret, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do,” I say quickly, turning and smiling as Dad comes over.
“Well, haven’t you been a busy little bee today,” Dad says. “I’ve hardly seen you at all. Hope she hasn’t been too much bother, Santa.”
“Oh, none at all,” Santa grins at my dad. “In fact, Blizzard was just telling me that Kaity’s going to be an elf for me when I need extra assistance. Only when she’s free of course.”
“Oh how lovely,” Dad says. “Kaity does love Christmas, don’t you, hon?”
“You know I do,” I say, caught between cringing and hiding. I love my dad but he can be really embarrassing sometimes.
“Well, I’m off duty and it’s time to go, so we’ll both have to see you tomorrow. Have a good evening both,” Dad says as we walk away.