Jack the Elf

Jack grumbled, which wasn’t unusual for him. He was the oldest elf in the ‘assembly shop’. Most elves moved on to painting or wrapping, reindeer care or sled maintenance and loading. No one ever stayed in assembly more than two years. It was were every elf began and moved on from. All except Jack, he’d been there well on two hundred and twenty-nine years.

Jack didn’t mind the work; he was left to work on his own mostly. Foreman Jingle had figured out very quickly that was how the aging elf worked best. He didn’t need instruction or constant supervision. Jack came when he woke up, he ate lunch at his workstation, and he left two minutes before the allotted ‘End of Day’ time to avoid the hassle of ‘good byes’. 

He didn’t socialize with any of the other elves, and in turn they avoided him equally. 

Yet Jack assembled more items than any of the younger members, and he had a reputation for flawless work. Santa knew that if a toy was assembled by Jack it was made to last a lifetime.

Foreman Merry Wit was new. He’d replaced Foreman Jingle who’d been promoted to ‘Painting Supervisor’. 

“It says on your time sheet you leave early every day.” Foreman Merry Wit tapped his clipboard with his candy cane shaped pen. “That sets a bad example for the new recruits Jack, and we can’t have that.”

Jack grumbled and took a swig out of his hot cocoa thermos. Hot cocoa, cream, marshmallows, a pinch of cayenne and a shot of special something got him through the day. Jack clenched his teeth as a hiss like sound escaped his tight lips. 

“Foreman Jingle may have tolerated that behavior, but I plan to improve this department and make it the best of the best.” Foreman Merry Wit announced in his high pitch sing song elf voice. At only fifty his flaxen hair had already begun to recede, and his gaunt face, bulging eyes and thin lips were perpetually a reflection of his high anxiety.

Jack stood up from his little red stool, the paint on the seat had worn out long ago and the wood seat was indented to the shape of his plump bottom. Jack winked, took a second sip of his cocoa and turned to face his workstation. He didn’t have the newest tools, the ones he owned had been his grandfather’s fathers. Touching the faded blue handle of his hammer he looked over at the pile of new tools in the ‘fix it’ basket that waited to be sent for repairs or replacement.

“They don’t make them like they used to.” Jack stated as he scratched his salt and pepper beard before beginning work on his latest project, a wooden dollhouse made especially for delivery to a Children’s Hospital in the United States.

“Speaking of your tools, it looks like they are out of regulation as well.” Foreman Merry Wit scratched some notes on his clipboard. “Every elf should receive a new set yearly, per regulation 12 article C.”

“Don’t fix what’s not broke.” Jack growled. “Now if you’ll excuse me Mister Foreman I have work to do.”

“Jack this attitude won’t due at all.” Merry Wit tisk tisked and tapped his candy cane pen.

Jack held back the sincere desire to shove that pen up Merry Wit’s peppermint hole. “Mister Foreman, I come to work. I do my job. In fact, I do it better than anyone here. I don’t ask for nothing but to be left alone. That’s the way its always been done and the way I intend to keep it.” Jack placed his hand on his hips. “If you don’t like it, then I suggest you take it up with the big guy himself.”

Merry Wit stood aghast at Jack’s confidence. “Well, perhaps I will.” He firmly announced spinning around as he prepared to storm out of the room. His elbow banged into the thermos sending it tumbling to the floor and spilling.

“Jingle nads and Frosty's balls look what you did Merry Wit.” Jack jumped from his seat reaching for a rag to clean the mess.

Merry Wit knelt and sniffed the puddle of brown liquid. “Is that Elf Dangle’s moon shine I smell?” Merry Wit smiled cynically. “Jack you know drinking is forbidden on the work floor.”

“Have a heart Merry Twit, this old blood needs a little help sometimes to stay warm.” 

“Tisk Tisk. Seems I will have to make a visit to old St. Nick. I’ll be taking this with me.” Merry Wit scooped up the thermos before Jack could grab it. Tipping his red stocking cap, he hurried out of the workshop.

Jack turned and slammed his hands on the table. They were gnarled and thick veined, years of work took a toll on his joints which had swollen deforming his hands. It was then he noticed the missing hammer. Tears rose in the corners of his angry green eyes. “Damn it Merry Twat.” He shouted just as the young folk hurried through the front door returning from lunch. They stood wide eyed staring at the elf who’d never spoke more than a word before.

Without question two young new hires, Nick and Noel quickly cleaned up the spilled hot chocolate. A female Elf name Clara brought Jack a mug of cocoa fresh from the break room. Jack mouthed ‘Thank you,’ unable to speak through his hurt.

Santa looked down his beard at the elf. His steel blue eyes stared at him unblinking. 

“You’re the Elf that got transferred from accounting correct.” Santa put down his naughty list reaching across the desk for the list of complaints the Elf had brought to his attention. “Merry Something right”

“Merry Wit sir. I’m Foreman Merry Wit.” He announced proudly.

“I see Foreman.” Santa removed his glasses from his nose and put them on top of his head. “And you were briefed on the employees and Mr. Jack before you took the job.”

“Yes Sir, but I find he is intolerable to work with. I’m sure this has something to do with his insubordinate attitude.” Merry Wit pushed the thermos across the table. 

Santa opened the thermos and inhaled deeply. “Ahhhh…..That’s Elf Dangle’s recipe if I’m not mistaken.” He smiled broadly. “Ho Ho Ho!”

“Santa, this is no laughing matter.” Merry Wit replied offended.

“Santa?” Santa’s face went cross.

“Mr. Clause excuse me. It’s just I can’t have him flouting my authority.” Merry Wit almost jumped with agitation.

“Merry Wit, yes I remember you know. Your books weren’t adding up. You weren’t very good with numbers and decimal placement.” Santa tapped the naughty list menacingly.

“Mr. Clause…if you’d hear me out.”

Santa stood up at his desk looking behind the singularly jumpy elf.

“Jack! It’s so good to see you. Come in, Come in.” 

With Jack entered Clara, Nick and Noel.

“Santa.” Jack removed his hat. His face was twisted and upset.

“What is wrong my friend.” Santa walked out from the desk and knelt to Jack’s level.

Jack stood speechless.

“I can’t imagine it’s about your cocoa.” Santa replied.

“No Santa.” Jack tried to open his mouth to explain, but his lips trembled.

“Santa, Jack’s hammer is missing. We all think Foreman Merry Wit took it.” Clara put her hand on old Jack’s shoulder.

Santa’s head turned slowly, his normally happy expression showing great disappointment.

“Santa I….” Merry Wit tried to explain, but before he could Santa snapped his fingers. Christmas magick hummed and buzzed in his apron pocket sending up sparks as the hammer rose out of it.

“Really Merry Wit.” Santa scolded. “Whatever are we going to do with a naughty elf.”

The hammer sparkled in midair. “Thank you, Santa.” Jack replied smiling.

Santa grabbed the hammer as it floated and handed it back to Jack. Jack’s face shone with pure joy.

Santa went back behind his desk, scribbled a note on his naughty list as the elves looked on.

“Jack, I think it’s high time you stepped up to become Foreman. Seems the young ones look up to you a bit.” Santa pointed to Clara and her friends.

They all nodded in agreement and patted his shoulders. 

“If that’s what they want.” Jack said misty eyed.

“And as for you Merry Wit, your going to be raking Reindeer droppings for a long time to come.” Santa stated.

Merry Wit grimaced.

“Good luck Merry Tit.” Jack replied. “Serves you right for stealing.”

“Merry Tit….hohoho, by god Jack that’s funny.” Santa’s belly jiggled as he laughed. “Merry Tit.”