Santa's Little Helper

"No, no!" Jacob cursed to himself as he saw the last Captain Mech toy slipped his grasp, carted off to the checkout counter by a luckier parent.  Cursed toy, always out of stock; Christmas is due tomorrow, little Jeremy has been such a good boy this year, and all he asked of Santa this year was that hundred-times-cursed toy robot. Whenever it wasn't other parents it was some brat taking the last one with him. For the last two months he has tried everything, but the times he tried bribing a store's employee into saving one for him, it turned out some other parent has already offered a bigger sum, all online stores have consistently been as out of stock as brick-and-mortar ones, and the time he offered a kid to buy his for triple the price he ended up escorted out by the store's security.

So there he was now, poor Jacob, sitting in a bench on Christmas' eve, as crestfallen as any parent who can mentally picture the face of disappointment on his kid's face. What was he supposed to tell him? That he wasn't good enough? That Santa now evaluates kids on a Curve Grading and he was just an innocent victim of the system? Perhaps Santa, moving at faster-than-light speeds to visit every home on earth in a single night, missed their home by accident while skipping back and forth through the fifth dimension in order to bend time and space to his convenience; There's always the possibility that, while coming back from the fifth dimension through the chimney, the Captain Mech destined for little Jeremy phased out of its wave-particle wavelength in Santa's hand, becoming forever lost.

What if he just moves at sub-light speeds? If that happened, it would be perfectly reasonable that he couldn't get to their home in time because of temporal dilation; poor Santa, the faster his sleigh moves, the more that time slows down for him, so yeah, there's no way he could get to us in time, if at all. For that matter, how come no one has asked Santa for his secret for faster-than-light travel? The fat, selfish prick, holding humanity back while just giving our kids toys to keep us quiet. There's still the problem of how to explain temporal dilation to a six years old child too. Perhaps he should just give Jeremy an apology letter on behalf of Santa saying he got a D.W.I, it must be hard on him being that jolly and red-faced all the time, people tends to get to wrong idea.

The night got colder as the minutes passed, and while Jacob's coat did a decent job of keeping his back and chest warm, his feet were starting to get cold, the kind of cold that make your soles scream… not literally though, as that would make winter nights rather eerie. Who would feel like celebrating Christmas in a month where the night carried constant moans and screams with it? Still, it was getting colder, and Jacob's spirits were low. He was ready to just accept defeat and go to his family for dinner.

… And then Jacob saw him.

Were his eyes playing tricks on him? The short man's appearance was something pulled out of some fairytale: For starters, to merely call the man short would be a serious understatement; he was more like a midget, except without the stocky build of your garden-variety genetic dwarf. His legs were unusually short and skinny, even for his short frame, contrasting with his longer and more muscular arms. The medieval-styled green breeches, sleeveless shirt, and long, pointy red hat he wore didn't make him look any less weird. Finally, add a hunched back, a large, hooked nose, pointed ears and long, unkempt white beard to get the full appearance of a garden gnome, or at least a rather bizarre garden gnome with a crooked air about him.

The gnome-person was watching Jacob too. Not only that, he was waving at him, waving with a toy in his hand… -the- toy, that hundred-times-cursed Captain Mech toy he had been chasing for the last two months.

"Are you a gnome?" said Jacob, having walked in his direction out of curiosity, already standing before the suspected hallucination… the toy, the sinister toy, was mocking him once again, making him chase after it on sight like Pavlov's dog. Jacob couldn't help looking outside the alley every few seconds in case the gnome wasn't real and someone caught him talking to himself. Had he finally lost it?

"Elf" the elf-person said in a flat, raspy voice.

"Aren't elves supposed to look… never mind. How much do you want for that toy? Name your price, I must have it!"

"Help," was the elf-person's answer.

"What kind of help?"

"I'm Santa's helper. Too many kids, too many toys to make, we need more hands. Help us, and your kid gets his toy."

Jacob blinked in disbelief as he listened, leaned slightly towards the elf with his hands on his knees. This was too much. He didn't even drink at the company's party. So Santa is… the fat, selfish prick, he is real, and he really isn't sharing his secret for faster-than-light travel. But that's something he can ask him himself if he plays along.

All that mattered now was little Jeremy, if all it takes is working an additional shift for him to have his Christmas present then he'll be damned if he backed down now… worst case scenario, he fell asleep in the bench, this was all a dream, and by midnight he'll have died of hypothermia, but it's not like he can will himself to wake up anyway, so might as well see how deep the rabbit hole goes.

Back at Jacob's home, little Jeremy played with a toy car near the cozy fireplace, his eyes pacing back and forth between his car and the Christmas tree. The spheres reflected the light from both the fireplace and the tree's electric lights in an almost hypnotic pattern. Jacob's wife, Julie, also noticed this, for a moment wondering whether the Christmas tree is actually hypnotizing her and her child; that'd be a scary thought, with a Christmas tree on every home, or every Christian home at least; that's a lot of people to hypnotize and put under your control. Is Santa perhaps the secret master of the world? What are his designs for all of us? The ringing of the phone took Julie away from her ruminations as she walked to take the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey," said Jacob from the other end of the line. "We've got an emergency at work. I'm not sure how long this will take, but I promise to be home as soon as it's over, okay?"

"Okay" Julie answered with a sigh. Jacob worked for a publicity agency, so Julie was used to late calls like this, fickle clients wanting either last minute changes or express commissions they need done by yesterday were the order of the day with Jacob. "Good luck, I'll be waiting for you."

The call didn't feel right, ever since they got married Jacob has never lied to his wife. Still, it was for the sake of their son, so it was a white lie, or so Jacob thought as he put his cell phone back in his pocket, looking at the elf-person. Besides, what was he supposed to tell her? That he's getting home late because he's helping Santa's little helper bring about Christmas? Might as well say he's having an affair with Gwyneth Paltrow, both are just as plausible and as likely to be taken well by Julie.

"Well I'm ready. Now what? Is your sleigh parked somewhere? Are we flying to the north pole?" The elf answered Jacob's question with what was perhaps the more expressive smile he had ever seen. As a matter of fact, Jacob could count at least twenty ways to call you an idiot just by smiling like that.

"Door, this way" The elf grunted the words as he led the way further into the alley, not stopping until reaching a dead end.

"I don't see a door here." But then, there it was. The elf-person again smiled that expressive smile, so sweetly insulting him six ways into Sunday as he raised an oversized hand, drawing (or perhaps scratching) a door with an oversized fingernail.

Looking at the elf with the genuine naïveté of a child, Jacob's eyes opened wide as the bricks in the wall parted, giving way to a cavernous passage that Jacob was pretty sure wasn't meant to be inside the building the wall belonged to. The elf-person took perhaps a dozen paces into the cave before turning towards Jacob, beckoning him with a hand to step inside. When he did, the entrance closed right behind him. Turning back, Jacob no longer found a brick wall, but the solid rock of the cave. This was a strange place, no more than the elf-person guiding him though, but strange nonetheless.

"What's your name?" Jacob asked, breaking the silence as the elf led him through the long passage. Eventually miscellaneous, metallic sounds started coming from the other end.

"Powrie," the elf answered as the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel became a colossal room with what seemed to be an infinite number of levels, connected by scaffolding and ladders made of sturdy metal. The respective platforms led to an equally vast number of doors, each one marked with a number.

"I'm Jacob. Nice to meet you."

The room was as busy as it was big. Elves moved back and forth on every floor, beautifully wrapped presents in their arms as they walked toward different doors. Other elves came out of the doors empty-handed. Was it via this room that they made their Christmas deliveries? Mighty convenient, but this also meant the number of doors must be infinite, and for all Jacob knew, it was. The large room was so tall that he lost sight of the ceiling in the darkness.

They moved past that room, and Jacob found the next was just as large. He had no idea how many football courts would fit inside, but at least he could see the ceiling on this one. The walls were decorated with an infinite number of monitors, each one marked with a number on top of it and displaying what seemed to be a live feed of different places, not few of which being the living rooms of different houses.

So that's how "he knows when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he knows if you've been bad or good". Jacob couldn't help finding the mere thought of it frightening, a man privy to every secret on earth down to your darkest, foulest deeds, who always knows where you are and what you're up to; always watching, never blinking. Big Brother's watching, and he wears a red suit.

Besides the creepy monitors, the room was full of kilometric assembly lines attended by hundreds of men, all of them wearing clothes from different historical periods. It didn't take long before the elf led Jacob to an empty place in a nearby assembly line, the elf's rough hands indicating a couple of levers. "Pull this, then this."

"Sounds simple enough," he said. And it was. It didn't take more than a couple of seconds for Jacob to get the hang of it.

"Now work," said Powrie as he walked away from sight.

The first thirty minutes were a constant wonder. Contrary to conventional assembly lines, he was constantly receiving different toys. The mechanical arms of his machinery reacted in a different way every time even if he just kept pulling the same levers in the same way: sometimes the arms would have hands or pincers to put together the parts of a wooden horse or bicycle, at others a hand would be replaced by a welder to apply soldering iron at the circuitry of an electronic toy or videogame console, or grow scissors and brush to groom a doll.

What wasn't very good, however, was the company. The people to his left and right were operating their respective positions in the assembly line just like him, but they weren't exactly the conversational type. All of Jacob's attempts at breaking the ice from "Fun, huh?" to "I guess both proponents of 'Santa exists' and 'It's all mom and dad' are right" were received with the same, impassive silence. His two work companions kept their gaze fixated on the assembly line, arms moving as mechanically as the levers they operated.

By the end of the first hour the droning silence was getting uncomfortable, but he found something to distract him, as his wandering gaze eventually found monitor number 5,028,347,893. It was his home. Jacob could see little Jeremy playing with his toy car near the fireplace. Little Jeremy. His pride and joy. A sight that renewed his spirits to keep toiling.

In spite of his work companions' ongoing silence, Jacob wasn't quite giving up on conversation. He still gave occasional one-liners now and then in hopes of eventually breaking the ice. His companion to the left, a middle-aged hindu man in plain white clothes seemed as oblivious to his words as he had seconds before, and the seconds before that.

His companion to the right, however, finally showed some reaction. The man was wearing a very old-fashioned brown suit with a matching vest. His white shirt had the sleeves rolled-up, and his face seemed to twitch for just a moment, making his curly mustache jump.

"Are you alright sir?" Asked Jacob. "I notice you don't look too well. Is there anything I can do for you, sir? Perhaps you should take a rest." The man's face twitched again at Jacob's words, and again. Soon visibly trembling as he kept toiling.

"Run away… Run away while you still can, you must NGHHHHHHHHHHH!" His words were substituted for a red spray that showered Jacob as the elf-person who suddenly appeared on his companion's shoulder ripped open his throat with saw-like teeth. Jacob's face was a mask of the purest shock and horror, muscles tensing wherever droplets of blood impacted his skin, pupils contracting as the man's body fell lifeless on the floor.

"Poooooooooooooooooooooooowrieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"Clean up, aisle four!" Powrie's voice boomed right next to Jacob, as if summoned by magic.

"H-he's dead! He's dead! Why!?"

"Massive bleeding, lack of oxygen to the brain." Powrie looked up to Jacob's face, his raspy voice answering as matter-of-factly as your garden-variety I.T. support technician.

"T-this… this wasn't part of the agreement! I'm out! Let me out!"

At Jacob's plea, the elf's face curled into a sinister grin. His oversized index pointing and wiggling a negative. "I said your kid gets his toy. Never said you were getting out. Now work." A metallic snapping sound at his ankles made Jacob look down, and he suddenly found himself manacled.

"No" Another set of mechanical arms took Jacob's wrists in a vice-like grip, turning him around, putting his hands around the levers, and forcing him back to work as Powrie turned his back and walked away on his short legs, back to whatever he was doing before being summoned.

"No!" Jacob's arms were forcibly moved faster as the assembly line picked up its pace. Toys came and went faster by the second until movement became a blur to his eyes.

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Jacob's horrified scream was ignored as he averted his eyes from the blur of furious movement before his eyes.

…And then, it all stopped.

Jacob's arms hurt like they had been working for days without interruption. For all he knew, he might have. The mechanical arms holding his wrists retreated back inside his operation console as all operations in the workshop came to a standstill.
Still confused, he saw several elves gathered around an assembly line not far from his. The elves moved a worker aside to start dismantling his console. The non-distinct person was a mannequin in their hands, standing perfectly still after they moved him, vacant eyes just staring into infinity.

Several minutes passed as some elves dismantled the console, while others took apart sections of the displacing band, arguing among themselves about the possible cause of the malfunction. More than once their words coming to violence as heated discussions ended with a monkey wrench to the face, kicks in the shins, tugging at beards, and overall open brawls.

That was when Jacob saw him. The fat old man the red suit. He was not peeking from a foreman's office, however, nor appearing on one of the workshop's multiple monitors like the evil mastermind Jacob suspected him to be. In fact, he was standing at a console much like his, not far from the elven brawl, on the assembly line being repaired. His long beard and hair were the same immaculate white as the fur lining in his coat.

The old man waved at Jacob with a hearty smile, then pointed in his direction. Jacob looked around his person to see what the fat man was pointing at. It took him a moment in notice the assembly line itself, where he saw the "toy" his console had put together right before the malfunction happened: a hacksaw.
Jacob's eyes watered at the miracle of kindness, but he wasted no time in taking the hacksaw and using it on the chains that bound his ankles together while the elves were distracted and his hands were still free.

Poor Santa, he's real, and a slave to these monsters forevermore. Several minutes and multiple broken noses later, the elves finally began putting everything back together. At last, one of them raised a thumb in signal for activities to resume. Just then, horns of alarm sounded all over the place.

Jacob could feel his heart pounding like it was going to burst out of his chest as he ran for his life out of the workshop and into the room of doors.

"Five billion, twenty eight million, three hundred forty seven thousand, eight hundred and ninety three… Five billion, twenty eight million, three hundred forty seven thousand, eight hundred and ninety three… Five billion, twenty eight million, three hundred forty seven thousand, eight hundred and ninety three…"

He repeated the same number over and over in his head. It was the number in the monitor, his ticket back home. He knew he would only have this one chance, for if he blew it, only God knew where in the world he'd be popping out. He might not even pop out in his own world for all he knew.

As Jacob went up the endless levels of scaffolding, his ears could pick up an army of small footsteps down below. He dared not look back however, as that would require slowing down, something he wasn't willing to do, not for a second. The muscles in Jacob's legs soon started to burn as the chase dragged on. Only the adrenaline rushing through his body and the imminent fear of being trapped in this nightmarish place forever kept him going.

5,000,000,000… while Jacob didn't bother pondering how he had managed to get that far, he was already close to his limit. The sound of the small footsteps gradually got closer as his body was no longer able to stay ahead of the tireless elves.

5,028,347,800… the elves kept getting closer but Jacob wasn't stopping. A sharp knife flew past his ear, sticking like an arrow in door number 5,028,346,893. With his goal finally within reach, Powrie and his elven cohorts leaped at the panicked human like a pack of hyenas…

Julie watched as the chimney's fire flickered away with the last remnants of wood. It was three in the morning and Jeremy was already asleep… but not for long, not on Christmas.

Just as he had on previous Christmas mornings, she knew the little devil would wake up Jacob and her with screams of joy, showing them Santa's gift for him. Julie was hoping Jeremy won't be too disappointed to find not Captain Mech, but his arch-enemy under the tree along with an apology letter from Santa promising that, if they leave the Christmas tree in place just for just three more nights, his promised toy would be there on the fourth morning after. Just a couple minutes ago she had managed to secure the prize toy on an internet auction, but delivery would still take a couple more days.

"Moooom." A very sleepy Jeremy called for his mom from the middle of the stairs, eyes half closed. "Mooom, you're not supposed to be up when Santa comes."
Julie couldn't help sighing with a smile as she walked towards her son. "And neither should you, now come, let's go to bed."

Julie had just taken the little one's hand when the fireplace exploded in a cloud of grey ash and with a massive thud, as if something heavy had been dropped down the chimney.

"Ow! Hot!" Jacob said as he tumbled away from the searing hot remains of the firewood. He sucked ash into his windpipe and banged his shin against the coffee table as he rolled onto his knees, coughing.

"Honey!?" Julie ran to her ash-covered husband in disbelief, trying to help him to his feet. But Jacob's body decided it was a better idea to just collapse on the floor while he cough his lungs out. "Honey, what happened!? Is that your idea of a joke!?"

"Daddy saw Santa!" Jeremy cried out in joy. To his childish mind, there could be no other explanation. "Did Santa give you my Captain Mech? Did he? Did he?" Jeremy asked as he zipped down the stairs.

If the smile on the little boy's face had been any bigger, he would have swallowed his ears. His eyes twinkled with the light only children possess. If not for the fact he had just escaped an eternity of torment, Jeremy's face would have broken Jacob's heart then and there.

Stupid Powrie, it was safe to assume "Santa" wouldn't visit their home this year. "Jeremy, champ, I…" He suddenly stopped talking as he realized  something bukly  was hidden within the folds of his coat. Reaching inside, his eyes opened wide in amazement as he saw the hundred-times-cursed prize in his hand…

Meanwhile, three time zones away, Yolanda cursed loudly at the laptop screen in her office. "Sniped? Sniped!? I just double-checked that auction five seconds ago! Miss Julie4ever… I don't know who you are, but I hope your house burns this Christmas. "

Yolanda closed her laptop before and she stood up with a huff.

What was she supposed to tell her sweetie? Well, first things first. And what she needed first was a cup of coffee from the machine, then she'd come up with a contingency plan. Maybe she could tell little Andy that Santa got a D.W.I?

The coffee machine felt Yolanda's rage with each button pressed, and it answered in kind, with an empty cup and a bright light on the 'empty' signal.

"Perfect, just perfect" Yolanda thought to herself as she turned around, barely stopping before running into the cup of coffee that now hovered in front of her, held up by a hand rather oversized for the small body to which it belonged. Powrie looked up at the woman with a toothy grin, and showed her the Captain Mech toy in his other hand.

FIN.