Elf Unshelved

   My twisted legs are jammed up into my face, my right arm stuck behind my head, and my hat has been covering half my face for what feels like forever. Darkness surrounds me, with no way of knowing when I’ll get out of here. Will it be today? Tomorrow? The glimmer of hope that it could be any day now is the only thing I have to look forward to. I look to my right and see an equally mangled body, pressed precariously against the side of the box we’re trapped in. 

     “How are you doing over there?” I ask. 

     “I’m fine, really. Just thinking about what day it might be, and what day we might be released!” she answers in her sing-song chirpy voice. 

     “I think it’s going to be soon,” I say, as reassuringly as possible, yet not quite knowing if I believe it myself. The days seem endless, and the nights so dark and empty. I’ve nothing to do but wait, and think, and plan…

     Just then, a sound echoes through the room outside our prison. This could be it. This could really be the day! 

     “Come out, come out, wherever you are, my little friends!” a familiar voice calls out. 

     Its her! It’s the mom! She’s come for us at last! I thought back to last year when she wandered the basement for hours not remembering where we were. I mean, is it really that hard to remember where you put things from just a year ago? Luckily, she finally found us. Makes me nervous now that one of these Christmases she will forget completely. She’s not getting any younger. 

     Suddenly, the box lifts quickly into the air. We are shuffled from our positions, and able to stretch at last! 

     Light bursts into our eyes as the mom opens the two brown flaps enclosing us. “It’s time! It’s time!” I say to Sparkle. 

     The mom lifts me out, turning me slowly in her hand. “Why hello, Happy! Did you have a nice rest? I hope so. You’ll be busy for the next month! Now, where’s Sparkle?” she says, putting me down gently on the table. She reaches in and takes Sparkle in her hand next. Sparkle’s pink elf outfit has gathered a bit of dust. The tiny gold bell seen to her pointed hat rings out gently.

“There you are, lovely lady!” the mom says with a smile.

     “Ok guys, it’s showtime!” she says with excitement and carries us upstairs from the basement. It’s the first night, so we will be bringing the kids Advent Calendars as usual. The kind with the doors that open and chocolate awaits each day. They really look forward to that.

     The mom places us on the piano, the advent calendars displayed in front. Images of Santa, reindeer, a snowman, and a snowy winter scene cover the calendar fronts. I can just make out the perforated doors with numbers that the children will open each day. 

     Sparkle is in her glory. She loves the excitement, the looks on four bright faces each day as they search the house to find us. The cheers and laughter when they finally do. 

     Sighing, I remain frozen in my spot. It’s against the rules to move when they can see us. A violation will mean an immediate return to the North Pole, no questions asked. That would be for later, under the ruling of the High Elf. I’ve been careful all these years, and I’m not about to violate the Movement Rule now. I’ve heard of elves that aren’t as careful, and their fates. No longer permitted to live with a human family, they must spend their remaining days in the North Pole Mailroom. They sort and separate letters to Santa, and are tasked with answering them on behalf of the Big Guy when the letter is especially endearing. They aren’t even allowed to help make toys again. A bit excessive in my opinion, but rules are rules.

     Ah, she’s gone. Finally. The lights are now out, and I can move freely! I jump down from the high piano to the floor, soundlessly. Or so I thought. Morris, their old cat, wanders in when he hears me. 

     “Hey, Morris. How’s it going?” I ask as I walk by the orange tabby. He yawns, uninterested, then jumps to the couch to snuggle in the flannel buffalo check blanket laying in the corner. 

     I head for the kitchen, Sparkle still perched on the piano. She’ll stay there. She’s obedient and simple. Not one to cause mischief or trouble. I laugh thinking of her face over the years as I repeatedly wreak havoc around this place. 

     “Happy! You can’t do that!” she’d yell. 

     “Just watch me, sweetheart!” I’d laugh. 

     I had been plotting since last Christmas a whole laundry list of things I’d do once the mom released us again. Tonight would be the first on my list. I called it “Pantry Pandemonium!” I couldn’t help but laugh as I slid open the white pantry door, and gazed at all the shelves of food. I inched my way up to the first shelf, the cereal and breakfast items. Walking in a straight line, I kicked each box down to the floor. Raisin Bran rained down, followed by a flurry of Frosted Flakes. A full cylindrical container of oatmeal crashed with a thud. I jumped down into the mess and began skating around the scattered pieces. I spread them all over the floor of the pantry and even out into the tile of the kitchen. I debated the second shelf, but was quite proud of what I’d created with the first shelf so moved on to the refrigerator. 

     Tugging on the door, I felt a rush of cold sweep over my face. Looking around at what to work with, I decided to grab some food coloring from the pantry and make the milk more fun. A lovely Christmas green would be perfect. 

     After Grinching the milk, I scurried up to the carton of eggs on the second shelf. I tossed a few onto the floor, then drew faces on the rest. 

     I checked the clock on the stove. Not much time left tonight. I’d need to get back in position before the kids woke up. I turned to gaze upon my masterpiece. Not bad for the first night. And plenty more to go. I smiled. 

     But then, a feeling of emptiness overtook me. I’ve felt it before. I thought it would pass, tried pulling more epic pranks, but it keeps coming back. This mischief was getting rather boring. The thrills weren’t what they used to be. Making messes, drawing faces, year after year. I needed more. 

     I glanced over at the knife block, sitting innocently near the stove. A series of seven blades, each one sharper than the next. I wondered what I could do with one of those. I wondered if…

      “Happy? Are you out there? You better hurry back! They’ll be waking up soon!” Sparkle nervously called out from atop the piano. 

     I looked again at the knives, and let darkness coat my thoughts like icing on a sugar cookie. I climbed back into position, much to Sparkle’s relief. Tomorrow was another night. I slowly turned my head toward the kitchen. Seven blades…each one sharper than the next…

~*~

The next morning, as expected, the children rush downstairs. They immediately find us, since the mom always leaves us on the piano the first night. Would a little creativity really hurt her? 

Would it hurt her…what would hurt her? I pondered this as I watched Michael tear open the first door on his calendar and impatiently swallow his chocolate. I looked at the mom, and imagined her tumbling head first down the stairs. I pictured her grimacing and grabbing her arm as she tried to slowly get up. A wave of electricity shot through me, like plugging in a Christmas tree for the first time. I was going to do it. Tonight. The smile painted on my face seemed to grow wider as I planned how I would do it. 

~*~

Time passed painfully slow as I waited for the mom to put the children to bed, and move us to a new spot. Miss Creativity plopped us into the Christmas tree with a note and several new ornaments she bought “from us.” With a yawn and a smile, she crept up the stairs to bed. 

It was go time. 

I grabbed the branch next to me and swung down to the next, further and further til I reached the bottom. I looked back up at Sparkle. She was admiring the glow of the soft Christmas lights, not paying attention to me st all. 

“Oh, Happy, isn’t it beautiful?” she sighed, lost in a Christmas trance. 

I ran straight for the play room. I knew Joey had a stash of marbles tucked away behind the Matchbox raceway. I grabbed the canvas bag, closed it tightly with the drawstring, and headed for the stairs. The mom was always the first up every morning, making her way downstairs to start breakfast. I would scatter the marbles all over the top stairs, and sit back as she tumbled her way down. It was just too easy.

As I spread the marbles around the steps, I couldn’t help but laugh. Now THIS was mischief! THIS was what I’d been missing! 

I ran back to the tree and climbed back to position. Sparkle was still lost in her daydreams, the white lights reflecting from her cheeks. Now, I’d wait. And I had the perfect view perched in the tree like a bird of prey, waiting for the kill. 

     Waiting for the kill…I thought about this all night. I was still turning it over in my mind when the mom appeared on the stairs. Any minute now, she’d be splayed legs up at the bottom! It was all coming together! I watched and waited. She took a step down and…

No! She bent over and started collecting all the marbles! Honestly, woman! Do you have a sixth sense about these things? 

“Joey, I told you always put your marbles away!” she muttered under her breath. Placing all the marbles into her robe pockets, she went to the kitchen to make breakfast. 

“Santa’s silver sleigh!” I shouted, shaking my fist and punching a branch.

“Happy! Stop! They’ll see you!” Sparkle said in a panic. 

I needed something more devious than marbles. I looked at the mom walking around the kitchen. She grabbed an apple from the fruit basket, and a knife from the block. It gleamed as she began to slice. Slice. Slice through the snowy flesh of the apple. And I knew what I would do. I knew what was more devious, more thrilling. I knew what would finally bring me the satisfaction I longed for. I turned my eyes to Sparkle. Did she know what I was thinking? No. She lived in her own little shiny world, she didn’t need more like I did. I set to plotting. I would do it tonight. 

~*~

This time, the mom played perfectly into my plan. She actually set us in the kitchen, sitting on the island in a bowl of candy canes. Once she set the coffeemaker for the morning, she switched off the light and went to bed. 

I grabbed a candy cane, set it hanging on the side of the bowl, and slid down. Morris came into the kitchen and began drinking from his water bowl on the side of the island. A nice soft landing presented itself, so I took advantage. 

“Mew!” Morris said with a startle. He shook me off his back and went back to his water dish. I went to the drawers by the knife block, and climbed gingerly to the top. Swinging my body, I was able to get atop the counter. I grabbed one of the small, sharp, glistening blades and replayed my plan in my head. 

     First, I’d make my way upstairs. I’d sneak into the mom’s room, and it wouldn’t take long to slice the white flesh as deftly as she sliced the apple today. I’d leave the knife, get downstairs to the candy cane bowl, and nobody would suspect a thing. I shivered. It was electrifying. I tingled at the thought of her blood dripping, shiny red drops of blood glistening like a red glass ornaments on a tree. My mouth watered with anticipation. 

Suddenly, the kitchen light went on. 

“Sleigh bells!” I shouted. I was caught! I wasn’t in the bowl and the mom was walking into the kitchen. I stood there with the knife, not moving. Maybe she wouldn’t see. She was actually reading something and not looking at me. I still had time! I could get to the bowl before she sees! 

     I dropped the knife slowly, and just as I was about to run for it, I saw Sparkle give me a sad look from across the kitchen. Poor Sparkle! What would she do without me if I got caught?

     The mom went to the island, blocking my way. She looked in the bowl, and back at the note she was reading. Then, she turned and saw me. Moved. I was done now. 

     “Come on, Happy. Back to the bowl,” she said, half asleep, as she placed me in the candy canes next to Sparkle. She set the note beside the bowl. She had a quizzical look on her face, but shrugged and turned to go back to bed. 

   As the light went off, I saw the telltale sparks of the North Pole Portal appear across from us. Two Guard Elves appeared in the portal and marched through. 

“Alright Happy. Time to go. You know the rules,” one said as they took my arms in theirs. 

As we walked by the note the mom had been reading, I couldn’t help but look down. As I read the words on the page, scrawled in pink, I looked back at Sparkle. Maybe Sparkle wasn’t so simple after all. 

“Goodbye, Happy. It’s for the best,” she said as she climbed out of the bowl. She took the note in her hands, and in an instant the words “Go to the kitchen. Go now” turned to a cloud of red and green glitter floating up to the ceiling. 

“But…how?” I managed to ask.

“You underestimate my magic. And how quickly I can move around while you slip away, lost in your schemes. I know what you were planning,” she said.

The mom wouldn’t even remember it come morning. She’d think one of the kids took me and lost me, as they lose all their toys. The children would think I had important North Pole business keeping me from returning. And Sparkle. Well, it seems Sparkle would continue enjoying the magic of Christmas. 

The End