“I am sick of red and white,” Mrs. Constance Claus grumbled. Summer, her snow-white cat, ignored her as the fat cat was washing her fur, a time-consuming job.
Constance noticed the snow falling in thick clumps, and the cheery red lights from the workshop didn’t lessen her bad humour.
Enda, chief elf, hurried by with the inevitable list dangling from his hand. He stopped, pivoted about and stood before Constance. “Speaking of Red and white …we are out of both,” his grin was wide.
Constance used to his sneaky sense of humour and trickery, glanced at the red ink on the white paper and said, “I suppose you mean red ink and white paper.”
“Blast,n I thought I had you fooled, but yep, you are correct. Could you order some, please?”
Constance smiled, nodded, and promised to order red ink and white paper.
That evening, Constance broached the topic of red and white with her husband. He stared morosely at the beetroot salad and poached chicken on his plate.
“I’m not happy” she began.
He frowned. “Neither am I.”
“Why?”
He cleared his throat, indicated his plate with what he hoped was a look of disgust,, ” with this dinner it is very …” He scratched his beard and searched for a suitable word. “Bland, boring, tedious. There is only so much beetroot and white chicken one can take.”
Constance agreed, adding, “Yes, that is how I feel about red and white, but what can I do about it?”
“We can start by making a few changes around here,” Nicky stared at his plate. I would like to turn this into steak and chips or Guinness steak pie.” He wondered if the elves would swap dinners with him.
With a start, he realised Constance was having her version of a meltdown. He watched with interest as she stood, and then, taking both dinner plates, she handed them to Bob, the dog.
Bob, delighted with being remembered on such an auspicious occasion as dinner, accepted both in two generous-sized gulps. He then licked Nicky’s hand and wagged his tail at Constance, his benefactor.
Constance didn’t notice she was busy pulling out the laptop from under a mountain of lists. It opened with a grunt. She ignored its creaky protest and said,”I will start immediately, no time like the present.” She raised an eyebrow, challenging him to disagree, only to discover her usually slow-moving husband was standing before the giant fridge eyeing up today’s treat for the most productive elf – sticky toffee pudding cake.
When he returned to her side minutes later, he presented her with a slice of cake and a tub of her favourite Rocky Road ice cream.
Minutes later, she was smiling. “I spent some money,” Constance declared.
“Good,” he said, raising his eyes from his spoon long enough to ask, “What did we buy?”
“A microwave or two, a steamer and not a red or white purchase was made.” This was the only cryptic remark she made for the rest of the evening.
Nick snoozed with happy thoughts of deep-fried garlic mushrooms, fish in beer batter and doughnuts, a banned treat for the past six months since he won the doughnut-eating contest to raise money for a Save the Reindeer charity.
However, Nick’s dreams did not come true. The next evening, he was staring at chicken salad. He looked from the plate to his wife and back again, and his beard wobbled with sadness.
“It’s a salad.” Constance told him, ” A smiling, happy rainbow salad.”
“Oh great. ” He stabbed the carrots and cucumber and began to chew while dreaming of steaming cheese fondue pots with stacks of potato crisps sitting on the side.
One week later, a delivery was made to the North Pole. This, the elves declared, was not good. They were in a twirling mess because they expected products to leave their store room. Nothing ever came back, ever. The triplets, Slim, Noel and Sam were arguing about whose shoddy work was responsible for such a disaster. Enda’s voice silenced them. “I think this is the first time in history we received a parcel, not to mention a whole truckful of parcels. Happily, none are for us; they are all for Constance.”
Twenty-four elves swiveled about in their seats to watch Constance and Summer crossing the square into the giant storeroom.
Constance looked happy—more than happy—and Slim thought she was about to cry with happiness. “Oh, they came. I am so happy. Please put them in my workroom.”
The curious elves did as she requested, though some tried to linger after the parcels were lined up in her room. Everyone was far too busy for the next two days to wonder about Constance’s mysterious parcels. Christmas was about to happen, and in the North Pole, every elf acted like a superhero elf. As Enda reminded them, “In this highly populated world, we must ensure every child receives something. And we will not fail them. The production line must move faster. Breaks will be shorter. Elves we have only 36 hours more to Christmas Day.”
“Turkey day,” the triplets said and sprang into action. For the next thirty-six hours, they worked around the clock in shifts of twelve hours with a five-hour break to eat and sleep.
It was a close finish, but they managed it.
Their last chore was to squeeze Santa into his sleigh and persuade Bob that he would be more useful as an anchor dog in the back, keeping a protective eye on the goods to be delivered.He didn’t look impressed. He was sitting in the front until a large bone landed in the back of the sleigh, and Bob moved to the rear.
The elves waved their delivery sleigh off and sank into an exhausted heap on the workroom floor. Constance appeared with a generous-sized tray filled with cookies, doughnuts, hot chocolate and reindeer-shaped marshmallows. She didn’t relax until every elf in the North Pole was snoring their hearts out. Then she picked up her phone and dialled her friends.
When Enda walked into the great hall the following morning to inspect the green Christmas tree and its silver and red decorations, he let out a roar, “Vandals.” Before Constance could stop him, he alerted the elves. Thirty seconds later, they stood before the tree, distressed, crying, and in shock. The glitter-filled hall looked like a rainbow-coloured scene from a Disney movie.
Summer had also been given a makeover. She was a delightful shade of blue. She seemed to like it and strutted about waving her tail.
“Why?” Enda bellowed.
There was silence.
Then Constance stepped into the middle of the hall. “Why not?” She held up her hand to silence the outburst of answers. “We have carried on this tradition for over six hundred years. Six hundred years of red and white. I am the custodian of the hall, and I have decided that each year, one elf will be chosen to create a different scene in the hall. We could put on a play.”
The elves were not appeased.
She continued,” We are becoming stunted and stuck in a rut. Let us remember how to have fun. Wander around and see what I have done, and then after breakfast, you may each seek me out and make your complaints.”
Slim stood staring up at her. He adored Constance; she could do no wrong in his book. “I am game to give it a shot; I am not boring or stuck in a rut.” And he marched off, behind the giant multicoloured tree. Seconds later, his laughter filled the hall. ” Catch me if you can find me.” Enda looked high amongst the rafters and smiled to see Slim paragliding above them. “I want a go.”
Soon, the hall was filled with the sounds of elves having fun. Like penguins, a group were sliding down a huge slide to land in a pile of multi-coloured sweets and treats of a chocolate kind. Others were climbing a candy rock wall which filled the lower hallway. Hours later, they were worried because they couldn’t find Sam. The elves were resting on the edge of a giant pool. A gurgling sound from the pool alerted them, and they swung about to find Sam, wearing a diving suit complete with mask and snorkel. “Can you not see what I have found down here, magical marshmallows? ” He held up a giant sparkly marshmallow and lifted his mask to allow him to take a giant bite. “Delish. And there are tons more of them.” As he spoke he flew around the room, this time without the aid of a mechanical device.
Marshmallows kept the fun going for a few hours. Exhausted and sticky, they gathered in the middle of the hall. The same dreadful thought arrived in each of the elves’ heads as their stomachs gurgled.
“Dinner, we didn’t put it in the oven!” Their thundering feet echoed through the building. They met Constance licking her lips as she walked from the kitchen. “No panic. I cooked dinner last night. I need someone to finish setting the table, and we are all ready to go.”
But to her dismay no one moved. “I can’t eat cold Christmas dinner today; it is not the 26th. Cold leftyovers are for the 26th, not for Christmas dinner.”
She smiled at them and said, “You must start trusting me. I am not a fan of cold Christmas dinners, and today’s is piping hot, I promise.”
Minutes later, the air was filled with loud pinging sounds. Constance emerged carrying huge trays of piping hot turkey, ham and huge vats of stuffing and potatoes. “A giant microwave or several if I am honest.”
So it was that Christmas 2024 became a turning point in the elves’ lives, for it wasn’t only children who got to have fun and stay up late. Santa was a little irritated that nobody thought to wait for him, but a few rounds of the obstacle course and many, many marshmallows later, he was smiling as brightly as any star.
Bob was happy no one had considered removing the marshmallows from the pond. His challenge was to eat as many as he could without bursting and getting wet. A little elf dust solved that problem.