The new Santa wasn't too bad.  He had the requisite big belly, which wasn't fake, and the long white beard, which was.  He wore round, wire-framed glasses, and his large, bulbous nose wasn't blotchy and red from drink like the guy they fired yesterday.  This guy generally seemed to enjoy the children.  To Holly, that was the most important quality in a Santa. 

The long queue of waiting children and parents snaked around the central kiosk and half-way down the south wing of the mall.  For the most part, the kids were good.  They were wide-eyed and wiggly, eager for their turn on the big guy's lap.  It was their parents that almost spoiled the day.  Tired moms with two or more kids in tow, single dads who'd never had to do the whole Santa thing before and seemed as out of place as snowflakes on a palm tree, impatient, all of them.  They snapped at their kids to stand still or be quiet, or do any of a number of impossible things at the moment, or risk losing the chance to visit Santa at all.  It made Holly wonder why they bothered.

Coming to see Santa should be a special, magical time for a child!  Not a time to stand still and be quiet!  Didn't their parents know that these precious moments would soon be over, gone forever like Christmas snow?  Barely even a memory.  Holly shook her head.  If she ever had kids… well, that was another thing altogether.  She forced a big, silly smile on her face, and got back to work passing out candy canes to the waiting children, and encouraging them that Santa would see them soon. 

The elf costume was kind of cute.  She wore big green felt shoes with turned-up toes.  Bells adorned the toes and tinkled sweetly whenever she walked.  If she wouldn't feel too stupid, she'd wear the shoes the rest of the year as well!  They were really comfortable, like walking around in bedroom slippers. 

The stockings were dumb.  Green, red, and white horizontal stripes accentuated her short, shapeless legs.  And the mini, green velvet shorts, tiny white satin blouse and green velvet jacket did nothing to hide the fact that she was, indeed, quite short and shapeless all over.  Holly could barely reach five feet tall when she wore high-heels.  And at twenty-two, she wasn't likely to develop a figure anytime soon. 

Her brown, curly hair spilled out of the two tight braids she'd put in that morning so the green and gold elf hat would stay on.   A smattering of freckles dotted her face, making her indignation complete.  It was bad enough that she got carded every time she went to buy a bottle of wine, but she could still get in for under twelve at the movies. If life were a card game, she'd been dealt a losing hand.

“Excuse me,” a mom called, snagging Holly's sleeve.  “But how much longer will this take?”

Holly tried to make her smile genuine.  “As long as it takes, ma'am,” she said politely.  She offered to take the heavy toddler from the tired woman's arms.  The little girl reached out to her happily, tugging on one of her braids with candy cane sticky fingers. 

The mom gave her a hesitant smile.  “Thanks.  I don't remember the twins being as heavy, but I guess my back is just older.”

Twin boys shoved each other, placing their mom in the middle of it.  Holly knelt down, taking one twin by the hand and winking at the other.  “Do you boys know what you want to tell Santa yet?”

“Oh, sure,” the nearer twin blurted.  I want a tae kwon do outfit, and lessons, so I can kick Joey real good!”

“Well, I'm gonna take Judo, and I'll cut you in half with my bare hands,” the other boy shouted.

Holly shook her head, drawing her eyebrows together in a mock scowl.  “Now I know you don't really mean that.  Jacob, remember when you woke up with a nightmare last week?  Who crawled in your bed and held your hand until you went back to sleep?”

Jacob glanced at his feet.  Holly barely gave a second thought to how she'd known about that.  Facts often popped into her head.  It wasn't like she could read thoughts.  She didn't know if Jacob were really sorry for his outburst, or just acting that way.  But she had a crystal clear image of him waking up crying and terrified, his mother shouting down the hall at him to shut up and go back to sleep.  Then his brother crawled into his bed and comforted him.  

“And Joey, remember how Jacob helped you pass your spelling test?”

Joey looked at his feet as well, shuffling around in a mirror image of his brother. 

“You boys really do love each other.  And that special feeling you have inside is what Christmas is all about.  That's what Santa wants you to remember.  Maybe instead of telling him what you want, you should each ask him to bring a special gift for your brother.”

Jacob grinned.  “That's right, 'cause I'd still get to play with it!”

“Yeah!  Thanks!  You got real smart working for Santa.  Can I work for him next year?”

Holly smiled, patting each toe-headed boy.  “Maybe the year after next, okay?”  She stood and passed the toddler back to her mom.

Eventually the twins and their baby sister made it to Santa's lap.  They grinned for a digital photo, then gave Santa quite a list that they had spent the rest of their waiting time collaborating upon.  The hired Santa forced a couple of ho-hos – he didn't quite have the knack for that – and promised he'd see what he could do. 

More children came.  More parents endured the wait.  Night fell – it got dark so early in the winter.  Holly's face was tired from smiling.  Her stomach growled, having had nothing to eat but candy canes for hours.  It amazed her that so many little children were up that late.  She was exhausted.

At long last the Mall closed.  No new customers could come in.  The last few children had their turn with Santa.  The last parent shuffled his sleepy but satisfied child into his car.  Metal screens were drawn down in front of the stores and locked.  The Santa stood and stretched, reaching for his toes a couple of times as his old joints snapped. 

“See you tomorrow,” he called, offering a weary wave.

Holly yawned, wiggling her fingertips in his direction.  Then she trudged off towards the parking lot, where her bicycle was chained to a lamp post.

Holly didn’t drive.  She was short enough that the law required special adaptations to a vehicle before she could operate it.  Her grandmother had driven her everywhere she’d had to be.  She was gone now.  Holly’s parents had died when she was three years old – she barely remembered them.  So now she lived alone.  All alone, except for eleven cats.

Just thinking of her furry roommates brought a smile to her heart.  Holly made a hand signal as she left the parking lot, then summoned up the energy to pedal the short two miles to her duplex on Burdick. 

“Honeys, I’m home,” she called.

One cat curled around her ankle, purring loud enough the neighbors could hear.  She reached down for the seventeen pound ball of orange tabby fluff.  “Did you miss me, Comet?  Or are you only being friendly because the food dish is empty, or the litter boxes are full?”

Comet batted her cheek playfully.  “Meow.”

Holly settled the cat around her shoulders like a fur collar, then picked up a box of kitty kibbles and went through her apartment filling the dishes.  There were two under the stairs – one for water.  Two in the bedroom, one in the bath, and one on the window sill in what should have been the formal dining room, but had been turned into a kitty paradise with carpet covered climbers, pedestals,  pillow-stuffed kitty beds, scratching posts, kitty toys, and a row of litter boxes that she kept company clean.  Then there was the large kitty fountain, a motor-powered water dish that circulated a gallon of water to keep it chilled and fresh, and offered a pleasant, soothing sound. 

Holly loved her cats.  There was one named for each of Santa’s reindeer, including Rudolph.  Then the really fat ones were St. Nick and Mrs. Claus.  She hadn’t bought any of them.  They had all adopted her in the three years she’d lived here.  After taking them to a vet for shots and neutering, she never let them out of the house again, so she made sure the house had everything a spoiled cat could want. 

She sank down into the canvas hammock hanging between two beams in the dining room, and stroked her beloved Comet.  “Who needs children,” she said wistfully, “when I’ve got you guys.  You don’t need to be potty trained.  You don’t have to sit on Santa’s lap every December, and you never shove peas up your nose.”  She closed her eyes and drifted off to the sleep of the weary.

“Sir, please!  Surely there must be someone else – more qualified – to do this for you,” Cane begged.  He tugged on his jerkin and squared his shoulders, as though the extra quarter inch in height would help his case.  He was tall for an elf, but Kris Kringle was bigger all over. 

“Oh, no, Master Cane.  You know how busy we all are this time of year.  I can't possibly spare another elf, but since school is out now until after the New Year, I will manage somehow without my headmaster.  This little half elfling is too old for school, but her misbehavior must be dealt with – severely.”  He gave Cane a meaningful look.  Cane figured he'd better throw a couple of paddles into his bag. 

“If you don't mind my asking,” Cane hedged, resignation settling heavily upon his shoulders at the dreaded task.  “Why have you let this go on for so long?”

Kris scratched at his full white beard, grumbling something under his breath he didn't quite catch.  “Her mother,” Kris finally said with a deep sigh.  “My stars, you aren't old enough to have been around when Noel was just an elfling.  She tried the patience of saints!  The former headmaster had quite given up on her, so disciplining her fell to my shoulders.  I became very fond of her, really.  You see, although she was impetuous and more than a little rebellious, her penitence was always quite sincere.  She was larger than life.  Full of love, full of spirit.  And it hurt – deeply – when she chose to leave all this to live among mortals.  Then barely four years later, she was killed in a vehicular accident.  Her little girl, though half mortal, is just too much like her.”

Just great.  Cane had only recently been promoted to headmaster, and now Kris expected him to handle the offspring of the worst behaved elf in recorded history?  Was his magic snow globe broke?  Had Jack Frost frozen a few too many of the head elf's brain cells?

Kris scowled at him, patting his hands against the thick black belt circling his middle.  “You are the best one for this task, Master Cane.  Or do you need a little more convincing?”

Cane gulped.  Having reached the age of maturity, he was too old for corporal punishment.  Only Kris Kringle had the authority to whip him now.  “Yes, sir,” he stammered.  “I mean, no, sir.  I'll go.  Right away.  I don't   need any – um, uh, I'll be going now, sir!”

Kris smiled, bobbing his head up and down.  “Good boy.  I knew I could count on you.  And what ever you decide – whether to bind her powers, or bring her back here – is fine.  Just fine.  I'm sure you'll make the right decision.”

Cane hurried out of the Kringle's mansion, down Central Lane, and turned up Peppermint Street.  Just behind the sprawling school building of spun sugar was a sweet little gingerbread house that was all his own.  He bolted the heavy chocolate door, and sank onto a gumdrop stool by the fire as his gaze wandered. 

His little table was barely big enough for two, but he never had houseguests.  As headmaster, he was the one in charge of executing punishments on all the young elflings, so they feared him and greeted him with dread in their bellies, while the other adult elves treated him with an air of superiority.  They had more important tasks.  They were Santa's helpers.  They made toys, or decorations, or cared for the reindeer herd, or wrote music, or sang in the choir.  Their lives were filled with joy – as an elf's life was meant to be.  His life was filled with discipline. 

The kitchen was small and efficient, although he'd munched all the frosting trim off the cupboards one night when he'd been too weary to cook a meal.  A curled pretzel ladder led to the loft bedroom snuggled up under the eaves.  He had bumped his head on the slopped roof a few times, but he loved the view from his bed.  The warm glow of red hot embers in the fireplace below, the sparkling stars in a midnight sky seen through the skylight right above the bed.  He did not have any carpets or curtains or tablecloths or frippery.  His mother chided him on his Spartan surroundings, but it suited him.  This journey to the mortal world had better not take too long!

Cane climbed the twisted pretzel and grabbed a few more things to add to his bag.  Then he pulled the drawstring and slung it over his shoulder.  Slapping on a brown felt hat to conceal his ears, he set out for the magic globe and the world of mortals.

The globe was set in the center of the village, surrounded by a wrought iron fence and a powerful protection spell.  To enter the forbidden area would set off alarms, and guarantee the trespasser a severe caning.  Cane had not heard the alarm once in his entire life.  The stories he'd heard of the mortal world made it sound dreary and depressing.  Why would anyone want to go there? 

As he approached the gate, he held his breath and half-hoped that Kris had forgotten to enter his travel orders.  Unfortunately, no alarms blared.  Cane sighed, and approached the exquisite globe.  He checked his travel orders again.  “Show me Kalamazoo, Michigan, U.S.A., 2011,” he said to the globe.

The serene image of decorated evergreens and falling snow faded.  Mists swirled, darkened, parted, and he saw a large metropolis bustling with activity.  How would he ever find one half-elf in such a crowd?  Two hundred forty-five thousand, nine hundred twelve people all scrambling around like too many mice on a wire wheel.  The snow was sloppy and stained.  The traffic smelled.  Neon lights blinked.  It was loud, dirty, and confusing.  Already he missed his home and he hadn’t even left yet.

Cane drew in a deep breath.  Then shouldering his bag, he jumped into the globe.  The glass became fluid, bending as it slowly let him through, like jumping on a Jello mattress.  With a squishing, sucking sound, he popped through, and landed hard on his bottom on a cement pathway. 

“Watch out,” someone bellowed, nearly tripping over him.

“Are you all right, kid?” another asked.

“Damn kids, always under foot,” yet another voice grumbled.

Cane stood and brushed off the slushy snow with what dignity he could muster.  “I am not a child,” he said firmly. 

The pedestrians ignored him, in too much of a hurry to cross the roadway while a sign blinked a picture in white lights of someone walking.  The sign changed to red, then the large vehicles began to pass on the road way.  Cane turned in a circle.  There were stores, restaurants, gas stations, parking lots, and lots and lots of vehicles.  It would be impossible to find this elfling without a little magic, but it was illegal to use magic in public.  He crossed the street the next time the white lights blinked, and followed the cement path until he found a little gully, partially hidden by bushes.  He scurried down the bank and ducked behind some branches. 

He snapped his fingers, then swirled a small cloud of mist.  “Show me Holly North,” he queried, hoping there weren't two people by the same name in this crowded city. 

The mists parted, and revealed a portrait of the most beautiful elf he had ever seen!  Soft brown eyes framed by thick black lashes.  Lovely freckles on an upturned nose.  Mounds of curly brown hair spilling over her shoulders, and luscious – Cane snapped himself out of it before he started to fantasize about those lips.  Suddenly Kris's insistence that Cane had to be the one to collect this errant elf made sense.  Everyone had been after him to take a wife.  His parents, the parents of his students, even Mrs. Clause had given him a well-intentioned lecture about the wonders of wedded bliss.  Well, he would marry if and when he was good and ready, and no amount of match-making could force his hand!  Maybe he would just bind this elfling's powers and leave her here, without even stopping to share greetings!

No, that would be unfair.  She probably didn't have much for powers, being a half-blood, but power-binding was serious business.  It was the only penalty more severe than a caning, and no elf had been so bound in the past four hundred years. 

“Show me how to find Holly North,” he corrected, parting the mists with his palm.

This time a trail appeared.  It led the other way down the cement path, with seven road crossings and one right turn, and ended at a massive building named “Crossroads Mall”.  Cane snapped his fingers as the mist dissipated.  Then he shouldered his bag again and set off. 

He went in through a door labeled “Pennys” and wandered through aisle after aisle bursting with things.  Sweaters, boots, jackets, dresses, perfume, bath salts, televisions, even golf clubs.  Imagine!  Golf clubs in winter!  The shop wasn’t nearly as grand as Kris’s toy shop, but it was infinitely more organized.  As he left Pennys, he entered an indoor walkway that was much pleasanter than the slushy cement ones outside.  There were live trees decorated with hundreds of small white lights, Christmas music playing from loud speakers, and up ahead was a human dressed like Santa surrounded by children.  And there, in the midst of it all, was that lovely half elfling. 

Cane drew nearer, but kept himself hidden from her view so he could observe.  She was dressed in a ridiculous costume he found rather insulting, but it didn’t seem to bother her.  Her energy flowed in vibrant colors – she was actually enjoying herself!  She knelt before a crying tot and spoke a few words, gifting him with a candy cane.  The little one hugged her, and she went on to the next. 

No wonder these humans had such a difficult time controlling their young.  She was rewarding them for bad behavior.  In elf school, whining and fussing was dealt with more efficiently.  After one warning, an elfling was simply spanked.  No more whining.  It was done so swiftly, that generally the teachers did it themselves, and did not have to send the errant one to his office.  Elflings just were happier than little humans, though.  Maybe because their parents were happier.  Cane was the first to admit that he didn’t know much about mortals, but there were hundreds of them inside this mall, and very few of them were smiling.

The child at the front of the line was moving her hands swiftly.  Ah, she was deaf, Cane realized.  Once he’d met a very, very old elf who had lost his hearing.  He’d used hand gestures to communicate, as well.  Holly noticed the deaf girl then, too.  Her eyebrows drew together in a delicate scowl that revealed her concern.  Then, right there in front of him, she did the forbidden!  She used magic, and without the slightest effort to conceal it!  Blue puffs leaped from her fingertips, settling around the Santa’s hands, and instantly he was speaking to the child in sign language.  

Cane was horrified.  With a sweep of his arm he parted time and drew the errant elfling into the space between. 

Holly screamed.  Something happened. Everybody was frozen in place, they weren’t even breathing!  It was so weird.  She pinched herself – that hurt.  She wasn’t dreaming.  “What is this? What’s going on!”

“As if you didn’t know.”  A man stepped out from behind the potted palm.  He wasn’t very tall, and his clothes were foreign looking, but his expression was frightening.  He was furious.  It didn’t take long to figure out he was mad at her about something. 

“This must be some mistake,” she blurted.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Magic!”

“What magic?”

“Public use of magic, that’s what.  It is forbidden!  Every little elfling learns that from the cradle, and it is drilled into every elf before he is allowed to enter the snow globe.  Humans do not understand, and they are far too dangerous when they have a little knowledge.”

He approached her, hands on hips, his brows scowling over a cute little nose.  Blonde curls framed his face, bobbing when he shook his head.  He was adorable – except for the angry part. 

“Look, kid,” she snapped, squaring her shoulders and tipping her chin up.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  But if you don’t go away and leave me alone, I will call security.”

“Kid!  Of all the impudent,” he sputtered, unable to put his anger to words.  He started for her, with long, purposeful strides. 

Holly gasped, fear momentarily immobilizing her. Adrenaline poured through her, making her dizzy.  Then, as if the fires of hell were at her heels, power surged into her legs.  She turned from the furious little man – for she saw now that although he was nearly as short as she was, he also had a five-o’clock shadow along his jaw- and ran for the nearest exit. 

“Help!  Help me!” she cried.

No one moved.  No one had moved for the past several minutes.  It was creapy.  An infant had spit out her pacifier, and the mom was reaching for it.  The pacifier was frozen in mid-air, the hand frozen in time.  Holly screamed again.  She was sick.  She must be sick.  She’d had a massive brain aneurism, and she was dead, and this was her version of hell. 

Then she slammed into something – the crazy man.  One moment she’d been fleeing from him, and the next he was in front of her, blocking her escape.  Before she could fall to the floor, his hands were around her, supporting her, imprisoning her.

“For the crime of public use of magic, you are hearby sentenced to,” he began, his voice shaking with fury.

“Please, let me go,” Holly sobbed.  “Please don’t hurt me!  You really don’t want me, I’m not even pretty.  Just let me go, and pretend you never saw me, please!  Oh, God, help me!”

And then she fainted.