Santa's Newest Reindeer (14 page)

successfully lead games or create fun-filled activities. Santa and Mrs. Claus sign and hand out the certificates at the graduation ceremony. There is so much more to this training, but we

haven’t the time to tell you all of it. You should enroll in Elf

School, learn about the fun and games, and earn your official

certificates of completion. Then you’ll officially become gradu-

ates of the Elf School.”

Merry presented Ellie and Will with honorary Elf School

certificates of completion. The scrolled forms were signed by

Santa, Mrs. Claus, Merry, and of course, Mayor Noel. The twins

unraveled the certificates and together read aloud:

In recognition of El ie and Wil Taylor’s interest in and sup-

port of the Elf School’s fun and games; In witness whereof

the signature of the school’s principal and head elf and the

signatures of the school’s benefactors are hereunto affixed at

Santa’s Village, at the North Pole, this 21st day of December.

Signed,

Mr. and Mrs. Claus

Mayor Noel

Merry, the Head Elf

“Thank-you very much. We want to come back and go

through the Elf School! Can we?” pleaded the twins.

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“Let’s be off, time’s wasting,” warned Mayor Noel, pointing

the way out of the school. The twins marveled at how similar

the Elf School’s teacher was to their teachers. Merry was very

knowledgeable in her subject matter. Obviously, she had been

teaching for a long time. She seemed to be very nice but prob-

ably could be strict if she had to be. But most of all, Merry

appeared to enjoy what she was doing. She showed genuine

interest in her work. They liked her and hoped to have her as a

teacher if and when they returned to Santa’s Village.

“I’d like to get my hands on some of their latest electronic

games, especially any that have to do with navigating the uni-

verse,” dreamed Will, moving his arms as if steering an imagi-

nary starship.

“I’d like to be just like Merry and teach elves how to bring

joy to the world using all the neat stuff they’ve got. Maybe

someday I can teach here with Merry,” dreamed Ellie.

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The workshop was aglow in all the Christmas colors. It resem-

bled a building that was bulging at its seams. Through the

windows, the twins observed numerous elves employing their

crafts at multiple workstations. As they entered the workshop,

the visitors placed protective shields over their eyes and stuffed their ears with cotton-like substances to deafen the construction noises.

Hundreds of elves were busy hammering, sawing, and paint-

ing while others poured hot liquid plastic into preformed molds.

Sparks flew from welding rods and grinding tools. The whine

of small sewing machines filled the air. Elves with clipboards

walked through the aisles checking the craftsmanship of each

craftsman’s work. Small I-beam cranes reached down from

the ceiling replenishing work bins with raw materials. It was a

fast-paced enterprise. A conveyer belt stretched the length of

the floor, transporting newly created toys to the quality control/

inspection area.

“Welcome to Santa’s Workshop,” boomed a heavyset elf as

he pushed his stocking cap backward on his head to reveal a

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tall, shiny forehead. “My name is Art, and I am the head elf

in charge of Santa’s Workshop.” The buttons on Art’s brown

shirt pulled tightly across his barrel chest, and his arms pressed tightly against his sleeves. Only the fully loaded tool belt kept his pants from bursting. His thick, muscular legs stretched the

seams of his black leotards, and his knee-high booties bulged

outward with all his size. A pencil was stuck under his cap next

to his left ear. His eyes were deep set, his nose round, and his

small mouth held a toothpick.

“We build toys and games for all the world’s boys and girls.

Plus, I oversee all quality control, research, and development

of new ideas for future toys and games. As you can see, we are

quite busy this time of the year. We have less than seventy-two

hours to load Santa’s sleigh. He gets rather grumpy if things

don’t go smoothly.”

“How many toys do you make each year?” posed Ellie.

“We never reveal the total number. However, I can tell you

that we manufacture enough toys for all the good boys and

girls around the world,” reported Art.

“If you make enough toys for every girl and boy, why do

some children not get presents?” inquired Will.

Art raised his eyebrows and bent forward to look into their

eyes. “Good question. I never thought about it. Got any ideas

for toys or games you want to share with us?” asked the top

toymaker, changing the discussion.

“No doubt about it. I think a remote-controlled transformer

who can mow lawns, shovel snow, and do odd jobs around the

house—like my homework and keeping my room clean—would

be a great invention. Yeah, a multitasking transformer,” submit-

ted Will with a subtle attempt at humor.

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“Dolls are always a favorite of mine. You know, my idea would

be a tall, skinny skating doll dressed in a shiny black–colored

wolf hair outfit with matching earmuffs and fur-lined skates.

The skate laces must be red on one skate and green on the other,

and come with small bells,” offered Ellie, meandering back and

forth as if modeling the outfit.

“I seeee. Well, you two are certainly not at a loss for imagina-

tion and creativity,” retorted Art. Then he pulled out a compact

silver box from inside his shirt pocket, whispered inaudibly into the box, and returned it back into his pocket.

“What are you doing?” quizzed Will.

“Elves are always seeking ideas for new games and toys.

Every elf carries a petite pocket personal recorder like mine at

all times. When a notion blooms, it is best to record the idea

immediately rather than trying to recall it later. An idea’s sweet spot is in its detail, not its generality. I can’t tell you how many games and toys have come to life from such recordings.”

Art retrieved the recorder from his pocket and handed it to

El ie. She passed it to Wil , who turned it upside down. Unable

to open it, he returned it to its owner.

“Just another one of Santa’s secrets?” asked the twins, not

expecting a response.

“Here! Try your hand at this,” the head toymaker said, point-

ing at a workbench. Ellie and Will put on their protective

eyewear, then two of Art’s assistants helped educate them on

how to use the tools necessary to complete their projects. They

sanded, hammered, sawed, and repeated the task over and over

until their projects began to take shape. Other elves encircled

the industrious twins, cheering them on to completion. Mayor

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Noel paced back and forth, constantly looking at the big clock

on the workshop wall. He fretted and stewed.

“How’s that look?” beamed Will, holding up his wooden

sign that read:

Home of

Bill & Pe

Bill & P ggy y

Taylor

T

“Hey. Look at mine,” retorted Ellie, raising her wooden

sign that read:

Home of

ome of

Bill & P

Layne eg

& Tgy

ina

Taylor

Morrison

The elves applauded and whistled in approval.

“Now, these are Christmas presents for your parents and

grandparents. I’m sure they can find a place for them,” offered

Art. The twins nodded in agreement. Art motioned two of his

assistants forward. Each carried a loosely wrapped package.

The first elf handed his bulky package to Ellie. She struggled

to hold it and immediately set it on the floor. She was excited

and beamed with surprise.

“What is it?” She accepted the package, pinching it to see

if she could tell what was inside.

The second elf handed his package to Will, who eagerly

accepted it, shaking it back and forth for a clue as to its contents.

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“I’ll bet this is the robotic idea I gave you just a minute ago,”

guessed Will with an air of certainty.

“Go ahead and open your presents. By the time you get home,

it will be Christmas and just in the nick of time to enjoy,” urged Art, motioning them to hurry up.

The twins tore at the wrappings. As usual, Ellie won. She

always was first in tearing open Christmas packages. Will was

more methodical. He carefully removed the bow, then the rib-

bon, and finally the strips of tape. He methodically unwrapped

his gift, painful y unfolding each corner. He always drove every-

one crazy with his slow, deliberate habit.

Ellie unlatched the wooden box, laying open its contents. She

carefully removed the protective felt from the wooden figures.

She pieced together the two-story house, complete with fur-

niture, three walls, and a roof. Ellie looked at the man and the

woman. Their faces resembled those of her dad and mom. The

boy looked just like Will. The whole family was there—Gramps

and Grams, and Othello, their beloved dog. She arranged the

wooden characters in their appropriate rooms. Rudolph, eight

tiny reindeer, and a bright red sleigh adorned the rooftop. Last, she kissed Santa before setting him in his sleigh.

“It’s just beautiful, and it’s all hand carved. I just love it,

thank-you,” gushed Ellie, bowing to every elf.

Will let out a shriek of excitement. “It’s just what I wanted.

It’s a star navigational guidance tool. And it’s electronic. Only the astronauts at NASA have this tool. They use it to map

their routes. My science teacher told me that he got to practice

with one when he visited NASA in Houston last summer. Boy,

he’s not gonna believe it when I show him this thing. Wow!

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Ellie and I can find our way back here next time by ourselves,”

bragged Will with an air of certainty. The twins were exhausted

from all the excitement, and there was more ahead. They were

having too much fun, and so were the elves.

“We’ll rewrap these gifts, along with your wooden signs and

your certificates of completion from the Elf School, and have

them ready for you when you return home,” stated Art.

The twins removed their protective eyewear, returning it to

its original place on the shelf. They discarded their earplugs in the garbage can.

“It’s time to go,” exhorted the mayor, pushing his way through

the elves toward the front door of the workshop. “We have just

started and have several stops to make!”

Never in a million years—a billion years—would we have ever

dreamed . . .

Again, the twins were talking to each other and neither was

moving their lips!

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“Oh look, Will! That’s where Santa’s reindeer live. Will we get