“Santa, Santa, come quick!  That Marta Holt is bad-mouthing Christmas again.”

Santa wiped his mouth, placed his red linen napkin on the round table and studied his Head Elf who had interrupted dinner.  All three feet of Claude quivered with indignation and his brown eyes shot fire.  Stress is going to kill him one of these days, the old man thought.  Once this Christmas season ended maybe he should insist the little guy take a vacation.  Someplace nice and sunny, where he could lie on a beach and forget the tension and cold of the North Pole.

“Sorry dear.  Delicious dinner as always,” Santa told his wife as he pushed himself away from the table and followed Claude out into the snowy night.

Outside, Santa took a deep breath and filled his lungs with frigid air as he trailed behind Claude on the icy path leading to the workshop.   He slipped once and had to catch himself on one of the Candycane lamp poles.  This gave him the opportunity to stop and appreciate the beauty of his surroundings.  Lights twinkled from the little village of cottages in which the elves lived.  The workshop was the largest building in the community and its window panes were frosted over, a symptom of the cold outside air meeting the warm inside air on the glass.

Pushing open the door, they were greeted by the hustle and bustle of the activity within the workshop.  Never a quite place, the closer to Christmas time marched, the louder the din generated by the activity of the busy elves became.

Santa shook the snow off his read suit and stomped his black boots to avoid tracking in more than necessary as his ears adjusted to the noise.  ]

Claude took off his brown hat and beat it against the wall to rid it of excess snow.  He drew the bottom of his pointy brown boots over a bristled porcupine brush boot scraper that sat on a rug by the door. 

All the organized mayhem only added to Claude’s tendency to get over excited and become nit-picky on small things Santa observed when the elf stopped one of the workers to check a toy boat before it went to the completed shelf. 

Granted the Head Elf spent a great deal of time updating the ‘naughty and nice’ list on which they tracked children’s behavior to determine who got their wish or the dreaded lump of coal.  That added a great deal of pressure to an already tense elf.  There were times Santa wished Claude would turn the responsibility of the list over to someone else and make life easier for both of them.

“Calm down Claude.”

The elf paced back and forth in front of the giant snow globe used to view behavior in the human world, the bells on his brown shoes jingled with each step.  The tips of his pointed ears were now bright red, a sure stress level indicator.  “You know how crazy Marta makes me Santa, because of how you worry over her.” 

Sighing, Santa waved his hand across the globe and stood back, waiting for the snow to settle.  He recalled the little girl who used to delight in the holidays, but he’d ended that her sixth Christmas because he’d been so concerned about staying on schedule.  Guilt had been a new sensation for him after that holiday season; one he now knew only too well. 

The image cleared and the situation that had Claude upset came into view.  Sure enough, though it was only October, Marta stood in her kitchen complaining to her cat about Christmas.

“You know, Miss Kitty, all Christmas is---is a big merchant greed fest.  I realize I should be happy since I’m Assistant Manager to one of the largest family owned retail chains in the nation, but I hate all the to-do about nothing.  Santa Claus for me went the way of the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy when I was six.  I just don’t understand all the fuss.”  She stopped to sneer at the cat and received a blink in response. 

“Plus, today is the discussion on what we should do in the toy department to attract more of the little monsters than we did last holiday season.”  Marta waved the knife she’d used to spread mayo on her sandwich at the cat.  “You know what—eliminate the whole damn department, that’s what we should do.”

Santa watched as Marta continued to grumble while she packed her lunch and slammed the door to her apartment on the way out. 

Sadness weighed heavy on Santa’s shoulders.  He joined Claude in pacing.  “I feel responsible for her dislike of the holidays.  It’s because I rushed in and dropped off the toys for her parents to put under the tree on her sixth Christmas.  If I hadn’t been in such a hurry she wouldn’t be so traumatized at the thought of the holiday season.”

“Ah, Santa.  You can’t blame yourself.  How were you to know her parents would get drunk and dance around the Christmas tree naked to Santa Baby while putting out the presents?  I mean the sight of her father dressed in a Santa hat and that big red bow on his Willie, well that almost traumatized me.  Imagine what little Marta thought when she saw them.  That man had one huge, ugly Willie, and the way it flapped around in all that hair when it was soft you could understand why the guys in the locker room called him donkey kon—”

“Enough, Claude!  I remember the incident and don’t need you to relive it for me.”  Santa stopped in mid-pace.  “If only I could connect with her in dreams.  She’s put up such a barrier I can’t get through.”

Santa stood in front of the snow globe lost in thought.  The noise level around him escalated as the elves surged forward to greet the arrival of Mrs. Claus with a batch of fresh baked gingerbread cookies.  Santa didn’t take notice as the aroma of his favorite cookie filled the workshop.

“I’ve got it.”  He turned to Claude with a big smile.  “You have to go Denver and get the complete picture of what’s going on with Marta.  I’ll give you a box of dream dust too, and once we know what action needs to be taken you can sprinkle her with the dust so I can access her dreams.”  Santa smiled, pleased with his idea.  “It’ll probably take more than one application since she’s built up such a resistance.”

“No Santa.  You know I hate going out among humans.  They give me the creeps.”  Claude stood with his legs spread to keep his balance as he looked up at his boss.

“Claude, I don’t understand your aversion to humans.  They’re very nice for the most part.”

“Yeah, right.  If you say so.”   Claude inhaled and tried another tactic.

“Plus, I’m too busy to go.  It’s going to be Christmas soon and we’re behind on toy orders, and you know how busy it gets at the last minute.  I have to keep on the elves in the workshop night and day.”  Surely Santa understood that he was needed here.

“You have an assistant to help with that Claude.” 

“Yeah, but Santa, she’s female.”  He knew females didn’t belong in management.

“I’m aware of that.”  Santa nodded.

“And, she’s only been in that position for twenty-five years.”  Surely, he’d see she was too inexperienced to assume such responsibility.

“Things have changed since you became Head Elf two hundred years ago, Claude.  Women have jobs of responsibility these days.  Josie is doing an excellent job.”  Santa smiled.

“Well, she does good with her area and that’s where she needs to stay instead of butting into men’s work.”  No female could do a man’s job from Claude’s viewpoint.

“What do you consider her area, Claude?”  Santa peered over his glasses.

“You know, dolls, kitchen things, dress-up clothes.  Girl stuff.  She doesn’t know anything about soldiers and boy stuff.”  Santa’s stare made him want to squirm.

Santa smiled.  “I think you may be surprised, and I also think it will be good for you to interact with humans again.  It’ll give you a chance for an up-close view of the changes that have taken place in their world which carry over into ours.

“Jumping holly berries, Santa.  No, I really can’t.”

“Claude.”