Page 5 of Naughty Elf: Aster

I did not, but the way he was speaking, they had to be bad…really, really, really bad.

“I’m fired?”

He shook his head. “No. I wish that were all.” He closed the book. “You’re going to need to leave the North Pole.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and everything changed. Suddenly, I was no longer there. Instead, I was sitting on a shelf in what I could only guess was an antique store, unable to move.In front of me was another shelf filled with old tea towels, some cookbooks, and hand mixers from days gone by.

The rumor was true. I-I was a figurine. A stupid little trinket. A knickknack.

Santa’s voice was with me, even though he was not. “You will need to be among the humans in this form. If you find your true mate, you will be as you once were.” He kept on, telling me the rules one by one. I wanted to hold onto each one of them. I really did, but all I could think about was the fact that I was stuck on a shelf, unable to move. For all I knew, no one even came to this place.

If I had thought the rumors of being turned to figures had been true, that Santa would really follow through, I’d have gone to the North Pole library and studied up. Instead, I brushed it away as if it wasn’t possible, and now here I was, trying to hold onto words that slipped away as quickly as they came and then suddenly, Santa’s voice was gone and I was all alone.

I wasn’t sure how long I was there—hours and hours—possibly days. Sugar balls. I didn’t even know what country I was in. There was nothing for me to do other than sit on the dusty shelf and think.

Eventually, the sound of a key in the door followed by the click of a light switch and the overhead lights flickering on told me that I was no longer alone. An older woman walked past, not paying me any mind and mumbling about being late on what she hoped would be a good shopping day. At first, I was shocked she ignored me, but then, I remembered. I wasn’t real…not to a human anyway.

The store opened not long after that. People walked up and down the aisles, chatting about remembering different items. Two of the hand mixers and a recipe box across from me were picked up for purchase.

But as many people as came through, not one person seemed to notice me. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Being doomed to someone’s curio cabinet didn’t sound ideal, but being here where I could get knocked over and broken into a thousand pieces didn’t either.

A little stopped in front of me, leaning closer and closer. “Daddy, Daddy!”

A man came up behind him. I couldn’t see him well, only his hand.

Stupid head not turning. Stupid eyes not moving. Stupid being a statue.

“A shelf on the elf, Daddy. Please?”

The man squatted down in front of me. “Absolutely not. That thing is creepy.” He mumbled something about me probably being haunted and stood up. “Let’s get you a real one at the book store.”

And just like that, I was back to being unnoticed and alone.

Chapter Four

Aster

This sucked. This sucked sugar balls. It sucked cotton candy. It sucked candy canes. It sucked tinsel. It just plain sucked.

I couldn’t believe Santa did this to me. I know it was a law—the law—whatever, and I know he said he had no choice, but also, he just did it—boom. No saying goodbye, no getting my things in order, no making sure people didn’t think I fell off a mountain, no telling me what was going to happen. Nothing. One minute, I was in his office drinking hot cocoa and the next, boom, I was on a shelf.

There had to be a loophole, right? There was always a loophole. Look at his naughty list. Every year it started, volumes and volumes long, and by the end, miraculously, everyone was off the naughty list, with the exception of a few criminals. Why? Because there were loopholes, and he made sure to tap into each and every one of them to help people, young and old alike.

So, why exactly couldn’t he help me? Because he didn’t want to. That was the only logical conclusion. He’d even said he was sorry and, silly me, I believed him. Or maybe I was being unfair to him. I was the one who messed up…maybe I didn’t put the salt in the sugar container, but I was the one who mixed it all together, baked it, and served it without one stitch of quality control. What if it had been something other than salt? What if it had been dangerous?

Crap. I deserved this, as much as I hated it. But a little forgiveness would’ve been nice.

It wasn’t like I was a naughty elf. From the time I was little, I did exactly what I was supposed to. I followed the rules. I followed the path to my career of choice without veering off once. I had my dreams, and I achieved them.

Yes, I made a mistake, a huge mistake, a mistake the size of Santa’s route, but it was not an intentional act. And now, here I was, hours into the night—or maybe morning—just staring out my porcelain eyes at the tea towels across from me, not even sure what was beside me. Having my eyes fixed in one direction was weird, and having only the emergency exit sign as light wasn’t helping any.

I-I wasn’t sure I could handle this. Something had to give. Maybe I’d be lucky, and one of the kids with their sticky fingers would accidentally drop me on the floor. Put an end to my misery.

What kind of a way to think about things was that? This was only a temporary state. Santa said something about finding my mate, and poof, all would be right in the world. Maybe my mate loved antiques, and that’s why I was here. Maybe he’d show up tomorrow, and my world would be filled with glitter and sprinkles and sugar once more.

“Please stop.” It was Ernie. How was he here and where? It felt different than when Santa spoke to me. His voice wasn’t in my head. He was in the room.

“Ernie?” I still couldn’t see him, but the next thing I knew, I was being picked up, staring straight at his nose. Not the visual I’d hoped for.