The Workshop

Beneath the Northern Mountains, on a plain covered in snow a foot deep, by a frozen solid lake, rests a cabin whose fire keeps the windows glowing. Its stone chimney pumps smoke into the overcast sky that sends a light snowfall to the ground. The night isn’t dark because the white surface of the ground reflects what little light there is back into the sky, making it easy to see. Inside, a tree trimmed in red and gold sits in the corner of the living room. From the mantle stockings hang, one labeled Josie, the other Maggie. By the fireplace is their father’s chair with a table containing a plate of cookies the girls helped their mother make and milk fresh from their goat. The two young girls are tucked tightly into their bed with a wrapped iron at their feet to keep them warm through the night. The two girls exchange whispers and giggles, too excited to sleep, for the next morning will be Christmas and Santa Claus will have come and gone, leaving them new toys, clothes, and delicious treats to enjoy.

From inside the cabin, Josie hears something outside and quiets her sister, asking, “Did you hear that?”

Her little sister freezes and listens closely. “Yeah, it sounds like sleighbells.”

There is a thud, thud, thud, swoosh on the roof. The girls exchange glances of excitement and glee. “That sounds like reindeer on our rooftop. Santa is here, Maggie! Let us go see!”

“No, if we’re not asleep, he won’t leave us anything.”

“We won’t get caught. We’ll hide under the table. With the tablecloth hanging down, he’ll never see us.”

“But he knows when we’re sleeping.”

“That’s just something mom and dad say to get us to go to bed. Besides, we’re not sleeping anyway, are we?”

Quickly and quietly the two girls scurry down the ladder from their sleeping loft, tip toe past their parent’s alcove, and hide themselves under the dining table that separates the living room from the kitchen. Peeking out from under the tablecloth they see soot sprinkling down from the chimney onto the dying fire. Then, with a crash, Santa falls from the chimney onto the fire, scattering ash and ember everywhere. He gets up and dusts himself off, throwing his bag by the tree. He makes his way to the chair and begins eating and drinking.

“I think he likes our cookies,” Maggie whispers.

Josie puts a finger over her lips as Santa pauses and perks his ears. The girls hold their breaths, hoping he doesn’t find them. After a few seconds, however, he goes back to eating and finishes the cookies and milk. Rubbing his belly, he grabs the bag and opens it up. Josie sneezes. Santa turns in the direction of the table with an ungodly shriek, his eyes red, and his face distorted with gray wrinkles like decaying flesh. With one jump he is at the table, lifting the tablecloth, revealing two terrified girls whose high-pitched screams pierce the night. They cry for their parents who do not wake from their slumber. Santa grabs them by their nightgowns. Josie wiggles free and runs for the door as Santa disappears up the chimney with her sister.

Bare footed, Josie runs through the snow with high steps for the barn. She glances over her shoulder and two reindeer jump off the roof and begin to pursue her. She runs into one of their horse’s stalls and hides in the corner behind their mare, Bella. The reindeer enter the barn, sniffing and snorting, making their way to Bella’s stall. One of them begins to play with the stall’s latch with its antler. Josie tightens into a ball. The reindeer manages to unlatch the stall. With the click of the latch, Bella breaks free with little Josie on her back. They take off out of the rear of the barn where four more reindeer come running up on them, two from each side of the barn. Josie guides Bella into the forest. She looks over her shoulder and sees that Bella has a good lead over the reindeer. She sighs with relief and turns, taking a branch to the face, knocking her from the mare. The reindeer approach the unconscious child. One slides an antler under her nightgown and lifts her up, taking her back to Santa. Santa takes the girl and puts her in the sack with her sister.

Hours go by before their sack opens. Josie and Maggie spill onto the floor shivering and crying, clinging to each other for warmth and comfort. They are surrounded by gangly little creatures with twisted, bumpy noses, beady red eyes, and pointy ears. They have long bony fingers, and their toes are the same. They poke at the girls with wicked laughter, making them yelp and cry.

“Ho-ho-ho, you elves know what to do with little kids who don’t go to bed before Santa comes,” Santa says as he climbs out of the sleigh. “Take them to the workshop.”

The workshop isn’t what Josie and Maggie had always imagined. There are no cute little elves eating cookies as they sing songs and put together simple toys. It is a dank, rocky, dungeon with a monstrous furnace used to make parts for the toys. There are machines everywhere for cutting and shaping materials, materials that are mined from deep within the North Pole by the hands of children. The only other thing done by hand is the assembly and packaging. As they are taken to their place on the assembly line, they watch as dirty, malnourished children are driven by elves with whips. One boy falls from exhaustion and the elves tear into him like wild animals, gorging themselves on their pound of flesh. The girls hide their eyes as they walk, slowing down and stumbling off course, earning them each a lash from a whip to get them back in line.

Josie is set up next to her sister on an assembly line that makes toy carriages. Josie puts on the back wheels, hands it to Maggie who puts on the front wheels, and then they hand it to a boy named Arnold who packages it. Arnold has become somewhat of a friend to the girls. He’s a couple years older than Josie and much taller. He says he stayed up one night to prove to his parents that Santa isn’t real. Santa found him sleeping on the couch and dragged him up the chimney by his ankle before shoving him into one of those magical sacks. Arnold tells them he has been there for three Christmases now.

“We need to get out of here, Arnold,” Josie tells him one day. “Maggie is sick and cannot keep up with production. If she so much as slips, she’ll be eaten alive by those despicable elves.”

“Be careful who you say that around. I once thought the same way,” Arnold says, lifting his filthy, tattered shirt, revealing a back covered with lash marks. “Some kids down here have just accepted their fate and will do anything to gain favor with the big guy. Such information can earn you a decent meal and a good night’s sleep.”

“You’re not going to say anything are you?”

“I would never, but it’s hard to start an uprising when you don’t know who to trust.”

“You two there, less talk more work,” a foul looking elf orders with a crack of the whip to Josie’s back. Josie drops to her knees from the pain, but gets up immediately and works twice as fast, crying tears of hopelessness as she does.

Sleeping quarters are small caverns dug out of the dungeon wall just big enough for six people to crowd together on the hard wet surface. They start their day with a small portion of beans, a slice of bread, and a cup of water. Water is served three times a day. Other than that, that is all the nourishment they get in a twenty-four-hour period. Many catch pneumonia sleeping on the cavern floors, one of them being Maggie.

Maggie doesn’t eat one morning, but still shows up to her line on time. She does her best despite a high fever and only being five to keep up with production, but she falls to the ground exhausted anyway. Josie picks her up immediately and tries to do both jobs while holding her sister upright. Production slows and the elves come to see why. When they see what Josie is doing, they pull her aside and give her seven lashes. Then they turn their appetites to Maggie. In pain and bleeding, tears running down her face, Josie throws herself on top of her sister. The elves tear her away, some beating her while the other’s begin sinking their teeth into her little sister. Maggie shrieks with each bite of flesh, pleading for them to stop, begging for help. Josie is left on the ground, bruised and battered; her ribs broken. She crawls for her little sister, but when she sees her intestines being flung into the air, she rolls over and screams like a girl gone insane. Arnold tries to pull Josie to safety, but an elf pounces on her and bites into her neck. Another bites into her arm as another takes a chunk from her side. “No,” Josie cries out.

“No,” she cries out again as she fights. “No,” she wakes up screaming, her father shaking her to wake her up. Her eyes pop open with fright and she sees him with her mother behind him. “Maggie, where’s Maggie?”

“She’s under the table with you. What are you girls doing under there anyways” her father asks.

Josie looks over to where Maggie is sitting. Her eyes are wide, freaked out by her sister’s behavior. Josie calms down some, her heart still racing. “We were wanting to see Santa. We heard him on the roof.”

“Well, did you see him,” her mother asks.

“I thought so, but now I’m not so sure. Maggie, did you see him.”

“No. I fell asleep.”

“Well, come on out, there are presents here for you,” her mother says.

Josie sits down on the hearth and her mother hands her a package. She opens it and it’s a new doll. She and Maggie continue to open gifts, but Josie doesn’t feel the same excitement that she had in years past. Her mother notices and asks what is wrong.

“I don’t know if I want gifts from Santa anymore. I think I’d rather go into town and buy something from Mr. Curtis’s toy shop, or the Landry’s boutique, or even the Craftsman’s General Store. I know how they make their products, and they need the money too. I think I’m more comfortable with doing that now.”