Santa Daddy, I’m Not the One

4

LANDON

F or two long days, Santa and his elves kept me confined in the guestroom, making me a prisoner in a festive cage that did nothing to quell my anxiety. They treated me well, bringing me all sorts of delicious foods, some of which I’d never eaten before, but it didn’t take away from the fact that I couldn’t set a foot outside the room. The North Pole, as they called it, felt more like an elaborate setup for a Christmas-themed reality show. Every minute that passed, I expected to see a camera crew hiding somewhere, but I’d checked everywhere and hadn’t found any hidden cameras. Since my arrival, I hadn’t stepped out of the room, and my only glimpse of the outside world was through the frosted window. And the endless expanse of snow that stretched as far as the eyes could see didn’t fill me with joy.

After waking up on the second day to find myself still not home, I had to slowly accept that I might not be dreaming at all. Maybe I was dead, and this place was hell. It surely looked like hell to me.

The elves visited several times during the day to ensure I was okay, but Santa didn’t show up once, which was disappointing, given he was the main attraction. They’d brought for me several board games, but I’d stacked them in the corner of the room. I’d refused to let them entertain me, shunning every attempt to brighten my day. I was trying to escape, not becoming too comfortable in my prison.

Snippets of conversations and passing remarks from the elves gave me an inkling of a town nearby—Twinkle Glen. On the third day, I decided to make my grand escape through the window. The white landscape might have seemed daunting, but the four walls were closing in on me. But first, I needed to know more about Twinkle Glen or how to return to my home.

A knock sounded on the door, and Dix poked his head in. He pushed a food cart of more delicious items. The first day, I’d refused to eat, but hunger had gotten the best of me. Starving myself wouldn’t do because I would need all my strength to escape.

“I brought lunch,” Dix said with a smile. Whether it was because he felt sorry for kidnapping me or something else, I had no idea, but he was especially nice to me. “Do you want to eat now?”

“There’s nothing else to do besides eating,” I mumbled. “I swear you all brought me here to punish me by making me eat myself into a coma.”

Dix laughed. “You’re funny.”

I scowled. I wasn’t trying to be. But not even my scowl worked on him anymore. He removed the covers from the dishes as I took my seat.

The cart Dix wheeled in was laden with a spread that was both whimsical and mouthwatering. The aroma of the bowl of steaming soup was rich and inviting, with whiffs of roasted chestnuts and winter spices. Beside it was a platter of sandwiches, but not the kind I was used to. They were miniature, cut into festive shapes like stars and Christmas trees, with various fillings from sweet cranberry and turkey to savory roast beef with a hint of horseradish.

Next to the sandwiches was a colorful salad, the greens interspersed with pomegranate seeds, candied walnuts, and crumbled blue cheese, all drizzled with a light, tangy dressing. For dessert, Dix had brought a small plate of cookies, each a miniature masterpiece of icing and sprinkles, as well as a few slices of rich, dark fruitcake dotted with glistening candied fruits.

Dix poured a cup of hot, spiced apple cider, its steam carrying the scent of cinnamon and cloves, and set it before me. “I hope you like it,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

I grudgingly admitted that it all looked amazing. “It smells good,” I grunted, not wanting to give them too much credit.

Dix seemed pleased. “Santa had his personal chef create your meals. He’ll be glad to know you like it.”

I bit my tongue before I betrayed myself and asked what Santa did all day, since he never visited. The flavors bursting on my tongue were a welcome distraction from my thoughts of the jacked Santa Daddy and the naughty dream I’d had. One where I sat on his lap and whispered into his ear exactly what flavor candy cane I wanted for Christmas.

It wasn’t peppermint.

The soup was a perfect blend of nuttiness and warmth, the sandwiches a delightful mix of savory and sweet. The salad was refreshingly crisp, and the cookies were so delicious I had to stop myself from devouring them all in one go.

“No more.” I pushed away from the table, even as I bit into another cookie. “I don’t want to see food for another week.”

Dix chuckled as he cleared the dishes. “See? I told you it wouldn’t be so bad. You could like it here. I mean, there are humans in the village who chose to stay after coming here with the Yuletide Crossing. I’m guessing you don’t want to play a board game, so I’ll run this back to the kitchen.”

Humans? Did he just say that humans were in the village?

“Actually, I’d love to play a board game,” I said quickly.

He widened his eyes. “You would?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Santa picks out every game, and I hate disappointing him by telling him you haven’t touched them.”

“He picked out the games?”

“Yes.” He ran over to the pile of games and selected a large box. “I have to report to him every day how you’re doing.”

Warmth suffused me, and the heat spread to my cheeks. My stomach flipped.

“Why doesn’t he come himself to see how I’m doing?” I asked. “He’s just pretending that he cares.”

“That’s not it at all. Santa’s busy. We’re behind with the gifts for the children this year.”

He brought the board game over to the table and unboxed it.

“You mean you don’t spend all year making toys?”

“We usually take a couple of months off after Christmas, but the children’s demands grow every year. Plus, Santa’s been feeling a bit off.”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess you can say he’s lonely. It’s been a while since he…” Dix clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”

Instead of pushing him, I pointed at the game. “So tell me about this part of your hospitality package for kidnapped guests.”

Dix’s ears turned a shade pinker. “I… I really didn’t mean to kidnap you. You have to understand. Everyone who has been here is a believer. We didn’t know what to do, and now it’s too late to bring you back.”

I sighed. “It’s already done. So what’s this game called? And how do you play?”

“It’s Mistletoe Mysteries.”

Dix set up the game, explaining the rules with an enthusiasm that was almost infectious. Along with a deck of mystery cards, a set of puzzle pieces, a sand timer, and a Christmas spirit meter, the game had a detailed map of the North Pole and a town called Twinkle Glen.

“This map,” I said casually as we moved our elf pieces around, “is pretty detailed.”

“It should be. Santa made it a replica of the North Pole and the village. Every child gets one at some point in their life.”

“I see.” Except I had never received the game. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I wasn’t a kid anymore. No reason I should still let being left out bother me.

“There’s a village then?” I asked.

“Oh, yes!” Dix beamed. “Every shop, every street you see is exactly like our town.”

Then I’d better commit the map to memory.

Someone from the town should be able to help me get back home. They couldn’t all be kidnappers.

“If you are a little nicer, you can ask Santa’s permission for us to take you.”

“Why would I want to go to the town?”

“It’s so pretty there and happy. Not even the best cities in your world can compare. And if you go to the town, you’ll likely run into the humans who opted to stay with us. They fell in love with the plaza, its cobblestone pathways, and the Enchanted Market. It’s all very festive.”

“Enchanted Market? What’s that about?”

“You’d have to see it for yourself.”

I played a few moves. “If Santa agrees, would I have to walk far to get there?”

“Just a short walk through the Whispering Woods. There’s a path that leads straight to the town square.”

“And people can just walk in and out of Twinkle Glen?”

Dix opened his mouth, paused, then frowned intently at the board as he hesitated. “Well, no. They come here just like you did, and they have the option of leaving and forgetting all about this place after, but they usually don’t.”

“When you leave this place, you forget?”

“Yuppers. Your turn.”

I nodded, pretending to focus on the game while my mind raced. This information was exactly what I needed—my ticket out of this place.

After the game, which I lost, I played another round with Dix but then told him I was tired and wanted to take a nap.

“All right, I’ll let you sleep and drop by later,” he said. “I’ll also ask Santa if I can take you into the town.”

“No, don’t!”

He frowned. “You don’t want to go? You sure were asking a lot of questions.”

“I don’t. It’s too much of a bother, and why would I want to go if I’m going to forget all about it when I leave anyway?”

“I guess.”

He slipped out of the room, closing the door. I knew better than to check if it was locked. They never left it open. My heart beat fast as I waited, listening for the sounds of his footsteps to die down, and then I made my move.

I grabbed the throw off the bed to protect me against the cold outside and pushed the window open. Slipping out was easier than I expected. The drop wasn’t far, and the snow cushioned my landing. In a crouch, I sprinted to the Whispering Woods, expecting to hear someone yell my name, but no one did.

As soon as I reached the cover of the trees, I hugged one to convince myself it was real. I took a minute to catch my breath, then searched for the path Dix had told me about. I almost wept in relief when I found it. Snow crunched under my feet as I walked, but it wasn’t cold. The trees seemed to watch me, their branches swaying as if whispering about my escape, but I pressed on despite the creeping sense of unease.

Twinkle Glen was not as close as Dix had made it out to be, but when I stepped out into the clearing, the view that greeted me was worth the long walk. The town was nothing short of magical, in its center an enormous tree that stretched higher than any buildings, its pines radiating a glowing light.

The Eternal Tree! It was right where it had appeared on the map of Mistletoe Mysteries.

I exhaled in awe, my breath forming a frozen cloud.

It was as if the entire place had been bathed in stars. Sparkling snow dusted the cobblestone pathways Dix had mentioned and the eaves of the houses. Each one was decorated uniquely: some with strands of tinsel and others with garlands of holly and berries.

Brightly lit shops lined the streets, and the enticing aroma of roasted chestnuts and warm gingerbread tickled my nose. Strains of Christmas carols floated through the air, wrapping the scene in an almost tangible layer of warmth and cheer.

As I passed by, elves stared at me. It was clear I was an outsider, a new face in a town where everyone knew each other. I had no idea where to go or who to approach. I didn’t see any humans. Had Dix tricked me?

Pausing before a shop window displaying an array of intricate snowflakes, I took a moment to gather myself. The carols lulled me into a sense of calm. The town was peaceful. It was almost easy to forget about the absurdity of it all.

I continued my aimless exploration and stumbled upon a small crowd gathering in the town square. They huddled around a figure singing a happy carol in a language I’d never heard before. I moved closer. A human woman with garland in her hair sat on a bench. Next to her, a toddler with chubby cheeks and curly blond hair clapped her hands and babbled. She had antlers—real antlers protruding from her head.

What the…I stumbled back, intending to run away from the madness of this place, but the twinkling lights of the tree seemed to beckon me. As if my feet were not my own, I stepped closer and closer until the sweet pine and the incredible radiant warmth emanating from the massive tree enveloped me. I had to crane my neck to see the top.

The Eternal Tree, indeed. It made the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower seem inferior in comparison.

Drawn to its beauty, I brushed my fingers against the soft needles. How was all this possible? The lights were embedded in the pines like artificial trees, but I’d touched it. It was real. Wasn’t it?

To test the theory, I reached out again and tried to pull off some of the pine needles. They didn’t budge. Instead, a small spark of light danced at my fingertips. I gasped and retracted my hand, but an electric current still ran through me. It didn’t hurt. It felt more like a gentle buzz under my skin.

“The tree!” someone wailed, startling me. “The tree’s drying up! The lights are dimming!”

I jerked away, but it was too late. The music had stopped, and footsteps echoed ominously against the cobblestone streets. A crowd had gathered around me and the tree.

“He touched the tree!” An elf pointed an accusatory finger at me.

Panic surged through me as the crowd closed in. Elves and humans—I could spot three now in the crowd—advanced toward me. I had nowhere to run, trapped in the heart of Twinkle Glen, with the accusing eyes of its inhabitants on me.

“What’s happening?” I stammered. “It’s just a tree.”

A collective gasp erupted, followed by a horrified silence settling in like a heavy blanket of snow.

“He doesn’t believe,” someone said. The words traveled through the crowd as they whispered them to each other. “He doesn’t believe.”

“Believe what?” I asked. “You can’t believe the tree is dying because I touched it.”

“You’ve cursed it!” an elf said, his eyes glowing like the radiant tree itself—or at least, how it used to be. A circlet of holly and ivy crowned his frost-white hair, and his robe shimmered in the fading glow, cascading around him like a waterfall. “The Eternal Tree is the heart of Twinkle Glen, and now it’s withering. Do you know what will happen to us?”

“But I didn’t mean to…” My words were lost in the growing clamor, and fear took hold of me. Faces that had been smiling just a minute ago were now twisted in anger.

How was I going to get out of this?