Santa's Newest Reindeer (10 page)

A wise man taught me that fear is for cowards
. . . With those words echoing in her head, Ellie grabbed Will by the elbow,

gaining his attention.

“Believe! Believe in what we are going to do! Believe in

each other!”

Without warning, a whirling snow devil lifted them off their

feet, propelling them faster than their legs could run. Regaining their balance, they latched onto each other’s hand and trudged

forward to catch up with the trusted elf.

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Ellie and Will had never seen such a unique celestial chariot.

It was a combination luge, bobsled, and Iditarod trail dog sled

molded in the form of a sleek cutter. Living in Idaho, they

had seen similar sleds being towed through Holly Valley many

times. Holly Valley was the trailhead for those hardy souls who

loved outdoor activities, like cross-country skiing, snowmo-

biling, snowshoeing, skating, and dogsledding. The towering

mountain range west of the Valley was a training site for some

of the United States Olympic winter sport athletes, especially

downhill skiing, jumping, mogul runs, and bobsledding. Several

Olympic stars returned to the Valley after retiring from their

competition days. Rumor had it that a few Hollywood stars

had built secluded homes there as well, but the locals never

talked about it.

The moonlight revealed a shiny, pearl-yellow craft with flam-

ing reddish-orange pinstripes along the sides. The girth was

no more than three feet wide, its length a mere six feet, and

its height, at most, four feet tall. The sleek aerodynamic lines

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ensured a rocket-fast and friction-free ride through the atmo-

sphere. But it appeared to have just enough room for a small

driver and maybe a couple of passengers. It was clearly not

Santa’s personal sleigh, yet it had visible means of power. Just

like Santa’s sleigh, it was powered by reindeer. While Santa’s

sleigh is pulled by Rudolph and eight tiny reindeer, this shiny

pearl-yellow elf vehicle was pulled by one, or at most two,

reindeer.

“Wow, this is neat, but how will we all ride in this machine?”

asked Will, running his fingers along its shark-smooth skin.

“Where’s Jeepers?” asked Ellie as she squinted, searching

for his low profile.

“I’m right over here,” replied the elf as he emerged from the

tree line. A jingling cadence followed his every step. The twins

detected steam-like puffs trailing behind Jeepers. The distinct

sounds of dancing bells uniformly chimed with each belch from

the four-legged animal attached to the sleigh.

“Settle down, Cosmos,” snapped the wee man. He jerked on

the reins, gaining the attention of the antlered head.

“This is Cosmos. He is a reindeer-in-training. He’s very

young and, as you can see, somewhat spirited. This is his first

trip away from his brothers and sisters, just like this is your first trip away from your home—far away from home.”

Ellie and Will gasped, sucking in deep breaths, but the air

didn’t seem to get to their lungs. They stared at Cosmos, and he

stared back. The twins didn’t move a muscle. They had seen all

kinds of reindeer pictures, and there were books full of Rudolph

leading the eight tiny reindeer and Santa’s sleigh at night. But

here, right in their front yard, was a real, live reindeer. It looked

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somewhat like a small horse with extra fur. It had four short

legs, a short stubby tail, and a thick neck. Its face was long with two ears sticking up, one on each side. Two three-inch spikes

jutted upward between its ears. Two large, brown eyes stared

at the twins. Its mouth seemed to always be smiling, exposing

a mouthful of yellowish teeth. Steam poured from its two nos-

trils, and it constantly pawed at the ground with its left hoof.

Ellie and Will were speechless. Cosmos moved toward them,

breaking their spell. He nuzzled them with his nose, begging

for some attention. Will pulled a carrot from his backpack

and extended it, not wanting to get too close. He had heard

that reindeer loved carrots. Just in case, he’d packed a few in

his backpack. Cosmos gladly ate both the carrot and the green

top, nudging Will’s arm with his long furry snout for a second

helping.

Will moved closer to the reindeer. “Can we pet him?”

“What else does he like for treats?” asked Ellie. The twins

cautiously approached Cosmos, making certain their escape

route was clear.

“He likes all kinds of vegetables, but he is partial to sweets,

especially Mrs. Claus’s sugar cookies,” responded Jeepers. He

steered Cosmos forward, then aligned the critter with the craft.

“But, then, who doesn’t like Mrs. Claus’s candy and cookies?”

added the elf, rubbing his rotund belly.

“Is that why Santa likes milk and cookies wherever he goes?”

needled Ellie.

“Now, you might just have something there,” winked Jeep-

ers. He walked around the cutter, inspecting it for any pre-

flight corrections. He tugged more than once on the rigging

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that harnessed Cosmos to the front of the carrier and nodded

affirmatively that all was ship-shape and flight worthy. On one

occasion, he forgot to secure Cosmos to the rigging, snapped

the reins, and Cosmos took flight, leaving Jeepers and the cut-

ter behind. It took many carrots and a lot of coaxing to get

Cosmos to come back.

He turned to the twins and asked, “Are you sure this is what

you really want to do?” He peered into their eyes, seeking a

flinch of doubt. None surfaced.

“Jeepers, I have just one question. What is the nickname of

your machine?” quizzed Will, acting as if he had stumped the

wee driver.

“The other elves christened it
The Ride
,” boasted Jeepers, plucking at his long suspenders. Will had just noticed that one

suspender was red and one green. He poked Ellie and nodded

toward the discovery.

“
The Ride
? Where did that dumb name come from?” inter-

jected Ellie, wrinkling her nose.

“Oh, you’ll see! Get in and fasten your body belts.”

“Body belts,” they gasped. They looked at one another,

shrugged their shoulders, then wiggled and squirmed their

way into the sparse rumble seat, covering themselves with a

supple, down-filled quilt.

“Now I know how sardines feel,” humored Will, reminisc-

ing of the time their dad forced each of them to eat one of the

little fishes.

The twins jerked on each other’s body belts as a final safety

check, then flashed the thumbs-up sign. They friendlily slapped

Jeepers on his back.

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With a grin, Jeepers said, “Just one more thing. I read the

letter you wrote to your parents and grandparents. Nice touch,

but I changed one thing. Santa lives at the North Pole. He does

not live at North Pole, Alaska. Based on your route, you never

would have found Santa Claus.”

The helmsman gathered the reins, whistled, and shouted

the secret command, “Oh what fun!” Cosmos, not accustomed

to the additional weight, recoiled twice before
The Ride
tilted steeply upward. The passengers were pressed tightly against

the backrests as their lungs fought for air. The cutter sliced

through the powdery snow, sending a cloud of snow fog around

the cradled riders. An enormous fireball engulfed them as they

slipped earthly bonds and streamed toward the North Star.

Sparks spewed from both sides and reunited into one giant

sparkler behind the cutter.

Jeepers leaned the craft into a left turn, his body arching

backward, nearly resting on the twins’ laps. Ellie and Will

strained to counter the gravitational forces, hoping for one last glimpse of their home. Their eyes caught sight of four human

figures trudging along the street in front of their house. The

figures looked like long-time neighborhood friends, Ron and

Pat with Keith and Martha. They tried to wave, but the heavy

comforter restricted any movement. The frigid onrushing wind

pushed their screams back into their throats until they gasped

for breath. Ellie and Will hugged each other out of fear and

an attempt to stay warm. Would they ever see Mom and Dad

and their grandparents again? What about their school friends?

Was Santa Claus real, or were they dreaming? Their courage

was truly being tested. Ellie and Will shielded their faces from

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each other so neither their tears nor their muffled sobs could be witnessed. Only a faint vapor trail lingered as Cosmos charged

northward toward the aurora borealis—the northern lights—

dancing across the northern hemisphere.

“Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! Oh what fun!” At least Jeepers and

Cosmos were having fun. Momentary terror preoccupied the

twins.

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“Bill! Bill! Come down here!” shrieked Peg from the bottom

of the stairs.

The blood-curdling scream launched him upright in bed. A

pillow flew across the room, landing against an heirloom pitcher

and bowl, and the homemade patchwork quilt nearly snagged

the twirling ceiling fan on its downward path. Bill leaped out

of bed as his feet barely touched the floor and tripped over a

pair of slippers.

“Honey! Check the kids’ rooms!” cried Peg.

Off balance, Bill ran to the edge of the stairs and nearly

skidded over the edge. The banister stopped him, but Gramps

and Grams trailing behind nearly pushed him through the

railing, like railroad cars that rear-ended each other upon a

sudden slowing. Although they would suffer some bruising,

their personal padding protected them from serious injuries.

Bill extricated himself from the wreckage and charged in and

out of Ellie’s room, then repeated the search of Will’s room.

“They’re not here!” he yelled down to Peg, who was huddling

with Grams and Gramps.

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“Look,” she exclaimed, frantically waving the handwritten

letter. “Read it! Read it! None of us have our glasses.”

Bill practically bounced down the steps and joined them in

a circle. It was a historical moment—the motley crew stand-

ing in the middle of the foyer clad in their pajamas. Flannel

solid, one silky nightgown, prison-striped shirt and pants, and a floor-length bathrobe. Luckily the curtains were closed! All that was missing was loud music and snack food. They looked more

like a sleepover party than grownups. Even an early morning

visitor would have been more embarrassed, for the four fashion

models were oblivious to their surroundings.

Bill held out the letter, extending both arms so his eyes

could focus. His face grimaced as he silently perused the note.

Will did not have the best penmanship. As a matter of fact,

it looked more like a kindergartener’s scribbling than that of

an elementary school student. Will always said someone else

could rewrite his scribbles. There were more important things

for a boy to do than practice penmanship. That was for girls.