Chapter 5
Kris Kringle looked embarrassingly at the crowd that had gathered around him. Some days it was not worth getting out of bed. Kris just wanted a quiet life. He hated the Frostmas Season at the best of times. Sure it was good for business, but he hated the mass of people in the stores making it impossible to get from one place to another without being buffeted around, Frostmas puddings made his fillings ache, and he especially hated those Frostmas jingles… How was anyone supposed to concentrate with those annoying jingles blaring out from the store speakers…? And now this young girl... dressed in bright gaudy colours, who had wrapped herself around him, making a big fuss and carrying on about somebody called ‘Santa Claws’ (whom sounded rather nasty) and someone called ‘Christmas Eve’.
“I’m sorry Miss, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t heard of any of those people,” Kris pushed Hollie away from him.
“B-bu-but, you’re Santa! Children all over the world are depending on you…”
“I’ve told you, my name is Kris Kringle. I’m the accountant here at Frosty’s. I don’t know Santa. I don’t know Christmas Eve. I don’t know you. And I have no intention of helping any children. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m a very busy man.”
But, before the accountant could walk away…
“Hollie!”
Cupid, Peter and Jack burst through the crowd. Which immediately went into a panic.
“Aggghhhhh, he’s got a bow!” cried one customer about Cupid.
One mother covered her child’s eyes, “And he’s nearly naked!”
An old lady fainted at the sight of Jack.
“Look out,” warned another customer, “There’s a rabbit too!”
The biggest collective scream went up when they saw old Father Time walking toward them with his scythe.
“Somebody call security!”
“Hey toots, whatya doing?” asked Cupid, as the crowd dispersed, “We gotta get out of here.”
“I’ve seen him.”
“Who?” asked Peter.
“Santa Claus.”
Jack looked around, “O’Really? Where?”
“There,” Hollie pointed to where Santa had been standing, “Darn, he’s gone!”
Before the others could point out that they had noticed…
“Freeze!”
A dozen Frosty’s Security Guards burst through the crowd and made their way towards the band of holiday icons.
The guards all wore white uniforms with big white coats. The three coal-black buttons on the front matched their boots, and the top hats that sat upon their heads. Some carried staffs, with stiff broom-heads on one end. Others carried orange truncheons.
“Oh dear,” sighed Father Time.
“I-I-I’m sure we can discuss this rationally,” suggested Peter.
“We ain’t got time to discuss this,” Cupid nocked an arrow, and drew back his arm as he aimed at the nearest guard, “rationally or otherwise.”
Twang
Eight of the guards scattered out of the way. The rest hit the deck. Everyone watched as the arrow went sailing into the crowd, hitting a man in the back.
“Ow!” The man fell down, taking the lady in front of him down too.
“Oops.”
“I thought you had practice hitting people with those things?” snapped Peter.
“Hey, I’m used to a bit more stealth... And targets who don’t run at me with big sticks.”
The man who was hit helped the woman off the ground and gazed into her eyes, “Has anyone told you, you have the most ravishing eyes?”
The woman blushed.
The woman’s husband punched the man.
The guards started getting back up to their feet and advanced upon the group.
“Jack’ll show ye how it’s done!” declared the damned soul, as he lifted his turnip lantern and charged at the guards. The lantern flared brightly as Jack released a hideous wail.
OOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Two of the guards turned and ran in fear. Several more staggered around dazed by the unholy light.
Unfortunately so did Hollie and Peter.
“Nice going, Pumpkin Head! Give us a little warning next time,” scolded Cupid, blinking a few spots from his eyes, “But I gotta admit your little stunt worked. You got most of ‘em,” he fired another arrow at an unaffected guard.
This time it hit the target.
The guard fell to his knees, lifted his hands to the sky and began to wail, “Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!??!!”
Hollie listened on appalled, “That wasn’t a love arrow?”
Cupid indicated his quiver, “Not all these babies are love arrows, toots. That was an anguish arrow… Get down!”
Hollie dropped to the ground as another of cupid’s arrows went whizzing past, striking the guard that had just been about to grab the Christmas elf.
Meanwhile, Jack and Father Time were taking advantage of the guards in a bedazzled state, tripping them up or knocking them down.
Peter was blindly wandering around the melee, arms out-stretched, blinking madly trying to regain his vision, “Hey, I think I’m beginning to get my sight back.”
Peter partially focused upon the blurry image of a charging guard heading towards him, “Oh dear!” Peter leapt out of the way, just as the orange truncheon struck the floor. “Is that a carrot by any chance?” asked Peter as he ducked out of the way of another swing by the guard, “It’s just I’m quite partial to carrots.”
It was third time lucky for the guard, as he stuck Peter, sending the rabbit sprawling. The guard advanced menacingly, tapping his truncheon into his other hand…
WHACK!!!
The guard went cross-eyed and collapsed face-first into the floor.
Peter squinted, trying to make out what happened, “Hollie?”
“Come on,” said Hollie, helping the rabbit to his paws and tucking the Residential White Pages, she had used to clobber the guard with, under her arm, “Let’s get out of here!”
Father Time struck the last of the guards, with the flat of his scythe, “I believe that’s the last of them,” before tripping the guard up with the handle.
“Not quite,” pointed Cupid, “Here come reinforcements! Jack, Kronos, get the other’s out of here, I’ll hold 'em off.”
Father Time and Jack assisted the semi-dazed Peter and Hollie towards the exit of Frosty’s supermarket, as Cupid flew backwards, firing more arrows at the advancing guards.
Outside, the others raced towards the waiting sleigh and reindeer.
Hollie hollered at the reindeer, “Get us out of here!”
“There’s no need to shout you know,” admonished Dasher.
“And a please wouldn’t hurt you know,” complained Dancer.
The band of holiday icons piled into the sleigh.
“Just get us out of here!”
The reindeer started to pull the sleigh, building up speed, slowly lifting off the ground.
“Hey! Wait up!”
“Cupid!” cried Peter, watching the little cherub’s wings beat furiously, trying to keep up with the sleigh. The Frosty’s guards hot on his trail. Peter reached out his paw, “Grab hold!”
Hollie concentrated on the driving. The others looked on helpless, as Cupid reached out towards them… The guards quickly closing in behind him.
“Just a bit closer,” called Peter, stretching out the back of the sleigh as far as he could…
Finally the cherub’s fingers grasped hold of the rabbit’s paw.
One of the guards leapt at the cherub’s feet.
Jack grabbed hold of Peter and yanked his team-mates into the sleigh.
The guard crashed to the ground.
“Right Hollie,” cried Father Time. “Get us out of here!”
And with that, the sleigh flew-off into the night…
******
Kris Kringle’s hands shook as he tried to get the key into the lock of his apartment. He finally managed to let himself in, quickly closing the door behind him. He leaned up against the back of the door for what seemed an eternity, trying to regain his breath and his composure. It didn’t work.
He unsteadily staggered across his one-room apartment, in the dark, over to his fridge. He leaned against the appliance, as he opened the door, wincing at the light. Looking inside all he could find was cookie dough and milk. He pulled out a bottle of milk. He ripped off the silver top and went to take a swig from the bottle.
He stopped himself just as the bottle reached his lips. He put the top back on the bottle and put it back in the fridge. He needed something stronger.
He stumbled over to his desk and opened the bottom draw. He started rummaging through it. He knew it was in there, somewhere… "Ah, found it!" He unscrewed the top off the crème sherry bottle, “Medicinal purposes…” he explained to nobody in particular, before taking a large swig.
Maybe he had been working too hard? Too many Frostmas Jinglers keeping him awake at night, singing those blasted jingles? Maybe he was just going mad? Had he really seen what he had at Frosty’s? Surely not? Kris took another swig of the sherry.
Rat-a-tat-tat
Sherry went flying out of Kris’ mouth. He stared at the door.
Rat-a-tat-tat
He picked up some tissues and began to mop up the spilled sherry from his beard and jacket, “Coming, coming!” He opened the door, “What is it?”
“Hello,” beamed Father Time, “I must confess, I wasn’t expecting to find you here…”
“Aggghhhhhh,” screamed a wide-eyed Kris Kringle, stumbling backwards into his apartment, bumping into his recliner armchair, and falling to the ground, “It’s Death! Come to claim my soul!”
“Oh nonsense. I won’t become the Grimm Reaper for a thousand millennia yet,” Father Time sniffed the stale air, “though something has definitely died in here recently…” He entered Kris’ apartment, clearly appalled at the mess around the room… empty milk bottles, discarded cookie tins.
“We don’t intend to claim ye soul,” explained Jack as he floated through the outside wall, "Well at least Jack doesn't", he gave Kris a little wink.
Kris screamed again, “Agggghhhhh! It’s a ghost!”
“Heh. I suppose that Jack is the ghost o’ Halloweens past…”
Hollie climbed through the single window, “I guess that makes me the elf of Christmas presents…”
“And me the cherub of Valentine’s yet to come,” continued Cupid as he flew in after Hollie.
By this stage Kris wanted another swig of sherry, only to find that the contents of the bottle had spilled all over his floor, “And what’s that supposed to be?” pointing at the rabbit that had just hopped through his front door.
“Just call me Peter, all my friends do,” Peter extended a paw in greeting.
Kris fainted.
