Nikolas and Company: The Merman and The Moon Forgotten (18 page)

Behind the La-Z-Boy the old man
strangled the hilt of a double-edge sword.

Mikey leaned to his sister, “Santa’s
packing.”

Liz screwed up her face.
“What?”

Kriss brought them back to attention,
“Ull. You know him as winter. I have been charged with the duty of
holding him at bay, insuring Idun can reclaim her rights of
rejuvenation and life.”

“They don’t have winters in Morocco,”
Liz said suspiciously. “You just said Morocco was one of your
stop-offs.”

“No. But weather is not his only tool.
Ull is the force behind poverty, famine, and any other calamity
that might give over to hopelessness. Therein lies his true
power.”

“You don’t do presents then. Just go
around fighting Ull,” Mikey said.

“Of course I do!” Kriss face
brightened, “I only go toe-to-toe with him when it’s absolutely
necessary.”

Kriss let the sword fall to the ground
and pushed himself upright. “My greatest weapon against Ull are the
gifts I bear. If children hold fast to hope, believe the
gift-bearer comes with his toys, Ull is held back. Though, to be
honest. I am beginning to have my doubts,” Kriss’ expression
darkened as fast as it brightened and he fell back to the chair,
“The hearts of children are changing. They’ve become like packrats;
their appetites never quelled.”

“Why keep doing it then?” said
Liz.

Kriss’ face rekindled, “A gift brings
hope. We need the hope of children in the dark times, even those
from Grand Rapids. Without it, Ull wins and a calamity would
descend upon humankind like never before.”

Mikey didn’t quite understand all this
hope stuff, but he did understand how excited he got last summer
when Mom and Dad announced their trip to Disneyworld. He even wrote
a short story called Disney Wars. Mickey had a light saber and
everything.

“So…” Liz slowly moved to the ground,
sitting Indian style. Mikey followed her, “You have elves and
reindeer and the whole nine yards?”

“Yes,” Kriss nod. “But not in the way
you suspect. The elves are not employed at some workshop in the
North Pole. They act as my agents throughout the world. Rudolf is
quite fast as winged reindeers go, but we cannot possibly deliver
billions of gifts to every child. I tend to stay to the poorer,
less developed regions. Remote villages in Siberia and Bolivia and
what not. I send the elves to parents who are able to provide for
their children. They influence your parent’s decisions, reminding
them of what you do and do not enjoy.”

“Um,” said Liz, “there’s like a creepy
elf in our house? Right now?”

“She is invisible to your own eyes,
but yes. That is right,” Kriss looked up the stairs. “To be honest,
she is leaving in the morning. Her time here is done.”

“Why?” Mikey said.

“As your hope in the gift-bearer
diminishes, so do the elves influence. Ever wonder why your
parent’s gifts become less and less relevant every
year?”

“Yeah,” said Liz, “Mine are lamo-city
right about now. I’m asking for money next Christmas.”

“To answer your question Mikey, Ghen,
your elf is leaving because there is not enough here to keep her
going. She stayed as long as she did because you held to hope –
believed the gift-bearer would come. But, when Liz decided it was
time for you to know the truth, your belief in the gift-bearer
withered away. Just an old man in a fat suit.”

“Yeah,” Mikey’s gaze drifted to the
carpet.

“But hope hadn’t died for you Mikey,
not entirely, which tells me a great deal about you. And that is
why I am here child. You have the heart of a
gift-bearer.”

Mikey looked up to Kriss.

“We Kringles hailed from the kingdom
of Denmark. The Vikings swept us up in one of their raids and made
our family slaves of Gudme Hall. My hopes and dreams nearly died
that year until I too, was met by a strange man in the cellar of my
master. He too was Ull’s combatant. He too was dying.”

Mikey and Liz jumped to their feet.
For the first time that night they saw blood edge Kriss’ sleeve and
pool around the end table.

“S-Santa?” Mikey said.

“Yes. I did come for cookies and milk,
that I might taste them one last time before I die. But I came for
a greater reason,” Kriss painfully stood to his feet, clutching the
blade of the sword. Words, preserved and practiced, began spilling
out, “I leave with you the task of gift-bearer Mikey Macready. Take
the sword of the gift-bearer. Fight Ull. Protect the hope of the
world.”

Mikey didn’t even hesitate, he grabbed
the iron blade.

Kriss reached to the pile of presents
and lifted up a leather bag that wasn’t any bigger than a bowling
case.

“Take the bag of the gift-bearer. May
it be a bounty of hope to the hopeless ones.”

“Don’t touch that bag,” Liz flanked
Mikey’s left. “I swear Mikey. If you touch that bag, I – I’m going
to tell Mom and Dad you became Santa Claus. They’ll…like,
mondo-ground you forever.”

Mikey looked back at his sister and
smiled, “They’re adults. They’ll never believe you.”

Mikey slipped the bag around his
shoulder. A warmth crept under the lining of his skin. The world
began to shrink until he was eye-level with Kriss, who simply
smiled back at him.

“Holy - !” Mikey raised his
hands.

“Yes,” said Kriss. You are a man now.”
Suddenly, a flush spread over Kriss and he nearly fell down to the
La-Z-Boy. He reached for the last bit of their Mom’s cookie,
slipped it between bearded lips, and closed his eyes. After a
moment, he looked up to Mikey, “Gledelig Jul.” Then, he turned to
Liz, “Merry Christmas.”

Kriss Kingle breathed his
last.

Mikey looked at his sister. From a
voice he didn’t recognize, spoke, “I’m behind schedule.”

“Wait. You can’t just leave? What
about the dead Santa in our living room??” Liz pointed.

Mikey heard his parents stir. A
bedroom light flickered on. “Like you said Liz. Just tell the cops
he’s one of the extras from that Viking opera. It would make for a
good story anyway.”

Mikey opened the door and felt the
blast of a Michigan snow storm. Flakes of white moved across their
neighborhood like TV static.

“You can’t leave. You’re my brother.
Mikey!” Liz stomped her foot.

On the front lawn was a simple square
box with ornate heads at every point and two steel runners the size
of skiis. And just like Kriss told him, there was a winged reindeer
leashed to the sled. He thought for a moment about how Mom and Dad
would take it. But then, he thought about children having no hope
and the darkness of Ull descending upon the whole Earth.

“Mikey,” Liz started to
cry.

“Don’t do that Liz. Please don’t cry.
Mom and Dad will need you now more than ever. Help them have a good
Christmas.”

“This isn’t fair. You’re always
screwing things up.”

“I promise sis. I’ll make this one of
my stops. I’ll come back every year on Christmas Eve. Wait up for
me, OK?” He almost shut the door, then looked back at Liz whose
face was red with tears.

“Merry Christmas Liz.”