Santa's Newest Reindeer (18 page)

their nostrils. They could almost taste it. It looked like an assembly line of bread tins coming out of the oven, and on the other

side, dough-filled pans were ready to enter the oven. Fruit

breads, swirl bread, brown bread, dark bread, white bread, and

multigrain breads were stacked neatly in large shipping tins.

The last stop was the kitchen where all these goodies were

mixed, prepared, baked, cooked, wrapped, and sent on to ship-

ping. The first thing that caught Ellie’s and Will’s senses was

the heat. It was extremely hot in the kitchen. All of the kitchen workers wore protective heat vests and had portable water bot-tles attached to their belts.

“They look like miniature tinfoil robots,” laughed Will to

himself.

“Don’t forget your manners, Will Taylor,” whispered an

embarrassed Ellie, jabbing him in the ribs.

Kitchen elves were scurrying about performing their duties.

Some cut, chopped, and sliced while others kneaded dough,

measured, or mixed ingredients. Some transported goodies out

of the kitchen as others carried boxes and bows into the display

rooms. Their movements were well choreographed so not to

cause any accidents. Cooking stoves without any visible means

of fuel and long preparation tables without legs crowded the

floor. The twins stood in amazement.

“Santa and Mrs. Claus will be offering you some goodies

shortly, so don’t eat too much. Plus, Mrs. Claus will have a ‘care package’ for you to take back home to share with your family,”

interjected the mayor, who was also looking forward to the

meeting with Santa and Mrs. Claus and tasting some goodies

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himself. Perhaps he would get a “care package” to take home

and enjoy with his family!

Mayor Noel motioned them back the way they came in for

one last trip through Mrs. Claus’s Candy Store. They took their

time retracing their steps. Upon reaching the front door, Ellie

and Will turned and took one final deep breath, inhaling the

intoxicating smells that paralyzed their senses.

“Nothing like fresh air to reenergize one,” offered the mayor,

biting on a candy cane that somehow found its way into his

hand. His coat pockets bulged with treats.

“Nothing like the sweet smell of cookies, cakes, and candies

to energize me,” replied Will, glancing once more into the

bakery window and wiping drool from his chin.

“I can see why so many of the elves are somewhat on the

heavy side since they are always working with this kind of food

all the time. I guess I would be jolly too if I worked in this

environment,” chuckled Will.

“Yeah, but I bet you wouldn’t even fit into Santa’s sleigh,

not even your own clothes,” mused Ellie, reaching for another

handful of chocolate-covered peanuts.

“I see it is time to meet with Santa,” noted Noel, pointing

toward the red-shuttered gingerbread chalet situated in the

middle of the village’s town square.

“Thanks for the tour of Mrs. Claus’s Candy Shop and all

the tasty samples. This is the first place we’ll visit when we

come back,” promised Ellie and Will, wiping their lips with

their sleeves in an attempt to remove any sweet remnants that

might have escaped their mouths.

“You are sweetly welcome. I’ll see that your sacks of goodies

are included with your other gifts and stowed carefully for your

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return flight home. I will include a special sack of black licorice for your gramps.” The twins wanted to give Candy a hug, but

remembering the white flour, they settled for handshakes.

The cool, fresh air helped bring Ellie and Will back to a

sense of reality. That is, to remember why they were at Santa’s

Village—to ask for Santa’s help in restoring Christmas and

New Year’s celebrations in Holly Valley. They couldn’t help

but think back on what they had seen the past several hours

and question whether they were just dreaming, or were they

really at the North Pole? They wanted it to be real, but they

also wanted it to be a dream so they could wake up in their

own town, in their own house, in their own beds, and see

their dad and mom and their gramps and grams. Plus, if it

was but a dream, then all of Holly Valley would be celebrating

Christmas and New Year’s.

“Remember what you told the crowd? Something about ‘fear

is for cowards and while we need to respect fear’,” whispered

Will, looking into his sister’s teary eyes.

“We must welcome the challenge to our fears,” Ellie whis-

pered back, hugging her brother around his neck.

“Well! Here at last,” announced Mayor Noel. The trio had

arrived in front of the home of the Clauses.

A moment of doubt settled into the twins’ stomachs. What

if Santa wouldn’t or couldn’t help them? What if . . . too late to turn back now. All he could say was “no,” and then they would

be on their way home.

“I really believe in Santa. I always have. Just ask my parents,”

confessed Ellie to an imaginary listener.

“Me too! Ellie, you know I do too,” echoed Will.

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“Half of your challenge is the belief within yourselves,” reas-

sured Mayor Noel, who had been monitoring their conversa-

tion. “Thus, half of your battle is won.” He stepped in between

them and put his arms around them. The twins’ burden seemed

lighter as the three of them headed up the steps, arm in arm.

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The Taylor family room was overflowing with neighbors, law

enforcement officers, and strangers brought together by one

common cause—to find Ellie and Will and return them home

safely. Peg and Grams busied themselves in the kitchen replen-

ishing the serving plates with donated food and refilling the

beverage cups with hot chocolate or coffee. As a way of dis-

tracting them from worrying too much about Ellie and Will,

they fretted over the minutest of things: Was the coffee strong

enough? Did the meat and cheese platter or the cookie plates

need to be refilled? What did they forget? And they engaged in

small talk—how much snow was going to fall, were the roads

slippery, or did the outside plants get enough cover to protect

them from the winter’s freezing temperatures?

“First of all, we want to thank each and every one of you

who has donated time and effort to search for our children.

While we have not heard from them nor received any positive

sightings, we are following up on a few leads. We are confident

that they are safe and will find their way home very soon,” Bill

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confidently avowed, surveying the assembled posse of neighbors

and friends.

Bill clasped his hands behind his back and further stated,

“We also have another matter to address, and that is to organize

a march on City Hall on Christmas Eve in protest of the city

fathers’ proclamation banning the celebration of Christmas

and New Year’s. While this is not as important as finding El ie

and Will, I know they would want us to push ahead with this

fight. Trust me: If they were here, they would be in the middle

of this scrap.”

He barely finished when a thunderous ovation boomed

throughout the house. It was followed by various epithets and

physical threats directed, by name, at those responsible for

canceling the city’s celebrations.

“We ought go to their homes and pull them out into the

cold,” railed one of the searchers. Several raised their fists in agreement while a few cursed in anger.

“Let’s teach them a lesson they’ll never forget,” threatened

a voice from within the small group.

Bill raised his arms to calm the hostility that was building

within the searchers. He looked around the room, recognizing

many churchgoers, fellow citizens, and several men and women

he had never met.

“I understand your feelings, and I appreciate your passion.

I, too, have a conflict between my heart and head. One tells

me to act one way, and the other tells me to act another way.

However, I think we all agree that we do not better our cause

if we adopt the methods of those we oppose. We play into their

hands and only solidify their cause,” he argued with a strong,

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clear voice. His words were met with muffled agreements and

affirmative head nods, for in their own hearts and minds they

knew that violence was not the answer and that cooler heads

had to prevail.

“Well, Bill, what do we do then? We can’t just sit back and

do nothin’. That plays into their hands as well,” hollered a petite woman from the back of the gathering. She couldn’t have been

more than ninety-five pounds; she barely stood over five feet

tall. Her voice was as fiery as her flame-red hair. Her piercing

eyes darted back and forth, staring into anyone’s face who dared

to look at her. Again, the banter rose calmly within the group,

pausing before Bill addressed the diminutive but forceful lady.

He acknowledged her by nodding and winking at her.

“If you recall when we met at City Hall, I was sorta elected

to form and lead a committee to challenge the proclamation.

I have asked several community business leaders to become

members of the committee. The committee will be mailing a

petition to the state attorney seeking an immediate injunction

halting the enforcement of the proclamation until after January

1. Five have volunteered thus far. If you are interested in join-

ing, you are certainly welcome. The petition has been drafted

and is ready for citizen signatures. We are holding a rally at

Citizen’s Square at six o’clock on Christmas Eve. I need each

of you to sign the petition. Your being here is not good enough.

Obviously, I know who I am going to put in charge of recruit-

ing committee members.” Bill looked at the vocal lady, seeking

her approval. The others looked at her, awaiting her response.

“Oh, all right,” agreed the redhead, pushing her way to the

front of the group amid the cheers and applause of those who

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did not want the job. “Okay, friends, it is time to put your

money where your mouth is and sign this petition. You heard

Bill’s daughter talk about fear and courage. Who’s gonna be

first?” An elderly lady raised her hand and stepped forward.

She signed the petition and gave the pen to the next in line.

“Right now I need to meet with these law enforcement folks

to get an update on Ellie and Will. Thanks again for all your

help on both matters. Ellie and Will are our first priority, and we will find them. Please keep them in your prayers,” pleaded Bill,

accepting high-fives and backslaps from those closest to him.

The crowd thinned as many left the Taylor household, dis-

cussing the point and counterpoint actions taken by the city

fathers. Bill met with law enforcement, leaving Peg, Gramps,

and Grams to clean up the leftovers and tidy the front room.

“I hope the children are okay. I trust we’l receive a cal from

them letting us know where they are, and I have faith they are

in safe hands,” offered Peg, looking upward, not really focusing

on anything. Suddenly she felt tired, and her whole body ached.

She was consumed by the emotions of the day. The energy she

spent worrying about Ellie and Will had drained her. Her heart

felt heavy. Where were her children? Were they okay?

There is always room for hope, trust, and faith . . .

Peg slumped onto the couch, pulling the afghan blanket

over her legs. A deep sigh gushed forth. She was too tired to

cry and too tired to sleep. She was simply overly exhausted.

If there was any one thing that would help Peg through this

crisis, it would be her strong core belief, hope, faith, and trust that her children were safe and sound.

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